We have never been able to get our arms around the Pollard case, never been able to get the whole story of what happened a generation ago or figure out why there is such intense governmental opposition to his being released after serving so many years. There are bits and pieces of information and much rumor, but not a full picture. We can speculate and yet we cannot confirm that our hunches are on the mark.
Maybe or probably, from the outset of this long affair Jonathan Pollard has been saddled with loads of bad karma, of not being able to catch even a small break. What he did was wrong and criminal and it is not right or helpful to his cause to claim otherwise. There are different gradations of criminality. Where does Pollard fit in? From the outset, U.S. officials have said that what he did was far worse than the information that is on the public record, claiming that for security reasons they cannot give critical details. A quarter of a century later, this is an argument that is hard to swallow, particularly when we consider information that has become public regarding espionage by the Soviet Union during the Cold War.
Journalists, including Seymour Hersh in the New Yorker, and a respected investigative reporter who undertook the assignment for this newspaper (something that I helped to arrange), have written that Pollard’s wrongful activity was extremely serious and damaging.
However, even putting aside our sentiments about Israel and how they affect our reaction to this case, hard questions remain. Was a life sentence warranted, especially when we consider the outcome of clearly far more damaging breaches of U.S. security involving Pakistan, China and the Soviet Union? The legal process was flawed, ranging from the incompetence if not negligence of Pollard’s first lawyers and the blatant deceptions of Joseph diGenova who prosecuted the case to the fierce insistence of the CIA that the keys to Pollard’s cell be thrown away. Add to this the cruel bias of the sentencing judge, the wrongful prosecution of Pollard’s former wife and the way the federal appellate court that included Ruth Bader Ginsberg handled the challenge to the draconian sentence. As I said, Jonathan Pollard has bad karma.
Now there is the case of Ben-Ami Kadish who is accused of being linked to Pollard and of engaging in espionage about the same time that Pollard was, as well as working with the same New York based Israeli official. This new affair is already puzzling and, I think, out of focus, the prospect being that we will not be able to get our arms around this affair either and will rely on leaks, rumors and charges that may or may not be true. What Kadish did occurred a generation ago and there apparently is no comparable espionage case in all of U.S. history of a prosecution so many years after the alleged wrongdoing. It is of interest that although, in the words of the New York Times, Kadish “could face life in prison or possibly the death penalty,” he was released on relatively low bail and, as of this writing, he has not been indicted.
There is no question that Israel must not recruit persons to spy on this country and it is no answer or justification that the U.S. may be withholding information that is vital to Israel’s security. Nor is it an answer that there is a likelihood that the U.S. has engaged Israelis to spy on their country, although that may not be the case, as pursuant to a U.S.-Israel agreement Israel must provide American officials detailed information regarding weapons development and deployment and intelligence and security activity. Under the rules of the game, there is no level playing field between the superpower that often provides it with diplomatic and other critical assistance and the Jewish State.
It has been reported that after fessing up to the FBI, Kadish received a phone call from his Israeli contact of years gone by instructing him to lie to American authorities. If true, this tidbit is hard to take and provides additional proof that not all Israeli officials are smart.
Our media – meaning Jewish publications – have speculated that apart from a dislike of Israel in certain Washington circles, the new case is intended to quash any push for clemency for Pollard in the final months of the Bush administration and also to make the legal path harder for Steven Rosen and Keith Weissman, the two former AIPAC staff members who are being persecuted – oops, prosecuted – on what I believe to be trumped up espionage charges. I do not doubt that prosecutors do bad things far more often than most of us are willing to acknowledge in order to achieve what they regard as just results, yet I doubt that these explanations are valid.
We will likely learn more about the alleged Pollard-Kadish connection. When we do, I believe that there will be surprises. The claim of substantial overlap between the two cases raises the question of why FBI counterintelligence personnel did not get to Kadish much earlier. It is intriguing that while he has not been a Federal prosecutor for many years, on the day that Kadish was charged deGenova was able to discuss with reporters details of the new case. This suggests that he has been in the loop.
There may be additional questions as to whether Israel lived fully up to its Pollard-related commitment to provide the U.S. with full disclosure of any similar espionage activity. If what we have been told so far about Kadish is on target, the future looks bleaker than ever for Jonathan Pollard.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Rabbi Nachman Mandel, ע״ה
The writer of these lines has written previously about Rabbi Nachman Mandel, his first grade rebbi at RJJ on Henry Street sixty-five years ago. My twin brother Allen and I were nine years old when we entered his class, fourth graders for secular studies who were now together with children three or four years younger than we were. That circumstance and our coming to RJJ in November, two months into the school year, did not constitute a formula for easy adjustment. In fact, the adjustment was difficult and extended.
But while it wasn’t easy, we benefitted enormously from the love of Rabbi Mandel, a gentle and caring teacher who had a major impact on our lives and, although he remained at RJJ for a relatively short period, many students benefitted from the experience of being in his class. Rabbi Mandel taught first grade elsewhere and, at some point, relocated to Los Angeles where he continued to teach. All told, he was a first grade teacher for seventy years. When he passed away immediately after Pesach, thousands mourned the loss of a remarkable Torah Jew.
About fifty years after we were in his classroom, Allen and I were in Los Angeles for Shabbos, davening in the shul where he davened. He grabbed a hold of us and took us out of the sanctuary so that he could give each of us a kiss. I said to him, “Rebbi, I have a problem.” He asked “What is it,” to which I responded “the grades that you gave me.” He said simply “Mir ken dos m’saken zein” – it can be fixed.
That was his philosophy of chinuch, his philosophy of life, his approach to children. Children must not be discarded. They can be fixed. We should all learn from the example of this elevated man, this wonderful Jew.
But while it wasn’t easy, we benefitted enormously from the love of Rabbi Mandel, a gentle and caring teacher who had a major impact on our lives and, although he remained at RJJ for a relatively short period, many students benefitted from the experience of being in his class. Rabbi Mandel taught first grade elsewhere and, at some point, relocated to Los Angeles where he continued to teach. All told, he was a first grade teacher for seventy years. When he passed away immediately after Pesach, thousands mourned the loss of a remarkable Torah Jew.
About fifty years after we were in his classroom, Allen and I were in Los Angeles for Shabbos, davening in the shul where he davened. He grabbed a hold of us and took us out of the sanctuary so that he could give each of us a kiss. I said to him, “Rebbi, I have a problem.” He asked “What is it,” to which I responded “the grades that you gave me.” He said simply “Mir ken dos m’saken zein” – it can be fixed.
That was his philosophy of chinuch, his philosophy of life, his approach to children. Children must not be discarded. They can be fixed. We should all learn from the example of this elevated man, this wonderful Jew.
Monday, May 05, 2008
RJJ Newsletter - May 2008
In the 1970’s, the distinguished Harvard social scientist, James Q. Wilson and others, advanced a theory about urban decay and crime prevention that is referred to as “Broken Windows,” the idea being that the neglect of minor signs of decay in a neighborhood – such things as broken windows – will result in more serious decline, the likely consequence being the moving away of more stable families and increased criminal activity. At a practical level, their argument was that to fight or reduce crime, it is necessary to confront the small problems, the seemingly minor urban pathologies.
This theory has been widely discussed and examined and along with other theoretical developments and policy changes, it resulted in major modifications in the way police resources are deployed and, it is said, in the reduction of crime in nearly all of urban America, although doubtlessly there have been other contributory factors.
While the application of “Broken Windows” to police work was a novelty, the underlying concept is familiar, it being that neglect breeds additional neglect and, most likely, more serious neglect. In our religious teachings we have the thought, aveira gorreres aveira, that the toleration of sin results in further transgression. When small problems or wrongs are ignored, they serve as building blocks for greater wrongs and ultimately there is a culture of tolerance of wrongdoing, so that we scarcely see that which is wrong. This is what is meant by the term avar v’shana, that the repetition and familiarity of wrongdoing leads to the attitude that what is wrong is acceptable, if not also appropriate.
It isn’t practical or even necessary to expect perfection in human affairs. People aren’t perfect, as we acknowledge in our prayers during the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services. We are limited in our capabilities and understanding and so enveloped in self-interest to sufficiently appreciate at times what is happening in the world in which we live. We are also limited in the resources that are needed to bring about improvement, even when we recognize that improvement is needed. We may not have the physical or emotional strength to bring about change or we may not have the time to do things that we know need to be done. Inevitably, we settle at times for less than the best, whether in personal matters or in all kinds of associations.
There is, however, a critical difference between recognizing that we fall short and the attitude that falling short is acceptable.
Whatever limitations we bring to our primary responsibilities, they are inescapably present in our communal activity, particularly in those activities that are voluntary. The attitude is that we can be remiss in that which is voluntary because, after all, we are not being paid.
This is wrong, if only because it results in the tolerance of neglect. Sadly, in too much of our communal life the attitude is don’t do today what can be put off until tomorrow and, worse yet, don’t do it at all because who cares. There is a culture of neglect that is harmful and has bad consequences and this is especially evident in our schools where what is at stake is the education of children, their development as Jews and into healthy adulthood. When the needs of a student are neglected, that is a situation of broken windows. When contributions are not properly acknowledged, that is also a broken window. Another is when there is inadequate maintenance. In my experience, on the administrative side of yeshivas and day schools, there are too many broken windows.
I have been told over the years that I am too harsh, too determined to impose my intensive standard on others. Perhaps, although I wonder why a more lax standard is more appropriate than one that insists on addressing problems and issues in a timely fashion.
What is at stake is more than minor and certainly not abstract. Elsewhere in this Newsletter I point to some notable achievements at our schools. Over a great number of years I have argued in different settings that yeshivas and day schools in the aggregate do a terrific job when we consider the pressures they face, financial shortfalls, the stringencies of a dual curriculum and the need to serve multiple constituencies. I often marvel over the dedication and achievements of the faculty, people who invariably are low paid. But what our schools accomplish is undermined, at least at the level of perception, when the first things that people see are the broken windows and the warts and flaws.
We must inculcate in our schools the attitude that neglect is wrong, even though perfection cannot be achieved. That is the standard that we actually use in our religious life. We do not say that we can transgress today and will be observant tomorrow. We know that aveira gorreres aveira.
This theory has been widely discussed and examined and along with other theoretical developments and policy changes, it resulted in major modifications in the way police resources are deployed and, it is said, in the reduction of crime in nearly all of urban America, although doubtlessly there have been other contributory factors.
While the application of “Broken Windows” to police work was a novelty, the underlying concept is familiar, it being that neglect breeds additional neglect and, most likely, more serious neglect. In our religious teachings we have the thought, aveira gorreres aveira, that the toleration of sin results in further transgression. When small problems or wrongs are ignored, they serve as building blocks for greater wrongs and ultimately there is a culture of tolerance of wrongdoing, so that we scarcely see that which is wrong. This is what is meant by the term avar v’shana, that the repetition and familiarity of wrongdoing leads to the attitude that what is wrong is acceptable, if not also appropriate.
It isn’t practical or even necessary to expect perfection in human affairs. People aren’t perfect, as we acknowledge in our prayers during the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services. We are limited in our capabilities and understanding and so enveloped in self-interest to sufficiently appreciate at times what is happening in the world in which we live. We are also limited in the resources that are needed to bring about improvement, even when we recognize that improvement is needed. We may not have the physical or emotional strength to bring about change or we may not have the time to do things that we know need to be done. Inevitably, we settle at times for less than the best, whether in personal matters or in all kinds of associations.
There is, however, a critical difference between recognizing that we fall short and the attitude that falling short is acceptable.
Whatever limitations we bring to our primary responsibilities, they are inescapably present in our communal activity, particularly in those activities that are voluntary. The attitude is that we can be remiss in that which is voluntary because, after all, we are not being paid.
This is wrong, if only because it results in the tolerance of neglect. Sadly, in too much of our communal life the attitude is don’t do today what can be put off until tomorrow and, worse yet, don’t do it at all because who cares. There is a culture of neglect that is harmful and has bad consequences and this is especially evident in our schools where what is at stake is the education of children, their development as Jews and into healthy adulthood. When the needs of a student are neglected, that is a situation of broken windows. When contributions are not properly acknowledged, that is also a broken window. Another is when there is inadequate maintenance. In my experience, on the administrative side of yeshivas and day schools, there are too many broken windows.
I have been told over the years that I am too harsh, too determined to impose my intensive standard on others. Perhaps, although I wonder why a more lax standard is more appropriate than one that insists on addressing problems and issues in a timely fashion.
What is at stake is more than minor and certainly not abstract. Elsewhere in this Newsletter I point to some notable achievements at our schools. Over a great number of years I have argued in different settings that yeshivas and day schools in the aggregate do a terrific job when we consider the pressures they face, financial shortfalls, the stringencies of a dual curriculum and the need to serve multiple constituencies. I often marvel over the dedication and achievements of the faculty, people who invariably are low paid. But what our schools accomplish is undermined, at least at the level of perception, when the first things that people see are the broken windows and the warts and flaws.
We must inculcate in our schools the attitude that neglect is wrong, even though perfection cannot be achieved. That is the standard that we actually use in our religious life. We do not say that we can transgress today and will be observant tomorrow. We know that aveira gorreres aveira.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Praying and Swaying on the Plane
The removal of an Orthodox Jew from a United Airlines flight because he ignored instructions to be seated while davening Shmoneh Esreh (the Amidah or standing prayer) before the plane took off raises the linked and yet somewhat separate questions of what accommodations to their distinct practices religious persons may request or expect from others and, secondly, the extent to which other persons or entities are obligated to accommodate these practices.
From newspaper accounts, neither party to the incident was crowned in glory. The passenger was doubtlessly sincere and yet it is doubtful that it was necessary for him to daven at that moment. Why not earlier? I believe that in view of clearly stated halachic or religious legal teachings regarding exigencies during prayer, he could have acceded to the request to be seated.
The fact that he could have acted differently doesn’t necessarily get United off the hook. I have witnessed gratuitous insensitivity on airlines toward religious Jews by flight personnel. Although the passenger had no right to expect accommodation, would it have been difficult for the airline to accommodate? Was the plane that close to take-off?
The issue of prayer on a plane is not mere curiosity about the exotic behavior of people who are different. Religious Jews, as well as members of some other religious groups, are required to pray during set time periods and this inevitably means that on long flights they must calculate when they can fulfill this obligation. At times, this is a tough challenge for we Orthodox who may be praying and swaying while the plane is swaying.
Most often, flight personnel are tolerant, even if they aren’t always pleased. On ordinary flights which typically have few or no Orthodox, there isn’t much of an issue. El Al is a different story, as I trust most readers know. There is the added determination of certain Orthodox to daven with a minyan, for it results in critical liturgical advantages. The favorite gathering place for the group is adjacent to the lavatories where there is standing space, an unappetizing arrangement because other passengers have difficult access, the roar of the engines restricts the ability to hear the prayer leader, the likely proximity to persons who are dressed immodestly and the prospect of unpleasant odors. Yet, these circumstances do not deter the minyaneers.
My firm practice is to daven alone, at my seat or nearby if space is available and there are many Orthodox who do likewise.
Air travel is but a tiny slice of the accommodation conundrum. Deeply religious folks, such as Orthodox Jews and Muslims, are apt to have truckloads of requirements that do not accord with the way things are conducted in the larger society. As the outside world becomes more permissive, religious obligations may generate additional zones of desired accommodation. The list includes dress and other forms of religious appearance, hospital and burial requirements, food issues and workplace arrangements.
For all of the American ethos of tolerance, a desideratum exalted by secular Jews, there is much reluctance to accommodate religious persons, even when to do so entails little sweat. Animus toward religion trumps principle. I have for four decades worked for workplace protection of Sabbath observers against discrimination, a crusade that has received little support from secular Jews and, in recent years, from Orthodox organizations that see more fruitful public relations benefits through other activity.
The reluctance to accommodate religious Jewish sensibilities even when others are not inconvenienced was on display years ago in the celebrated Yale dormitory case when this university that is infused with tolerance refused to accommodate several Orthodox undergraduates who refused to avail themselves of the coeducational dormitory facilities that students must pay for. This shameful episode should be contrasted with Harvard’s recent decision to alter the schedule for its swimming facilities to accommodate Muslim women who out of modesty do not want to be in the same pool with male students. That entailed a direct inconvenience to other students, raising the question of whether liberal institutions are more keen to the sensibilities of Islamic students than to those sincerely articulated by religious Jews.
Another illustration is provided by Noah Feldman, greatly gifted and hypocritical, who went to court to oppose an Erev in Tenafly that would have inconvenienced no one and now is a staunch advocate of Shariah or Islamic religious law.
Although I advocate accommodation, I believe that there are limits, they being when inconvenience to others is significant and also when accommodation means that other people will have to act in accordance with our religious practices. There is a vast difference between not being able to use a coeducational pool – so you don’t swim! – and losing a job because of the inability to work on Shabbos. Alas, the former generates greater support from secularists.
More than a decade ago, I parted company with much of the Orthodox establishment on the so-called Get Law that requires persons married in a religious ceremony to arrange for a Get or religious divorce before their marriage can be undone in a civil proceeding. I felt that we must not require others to embrace our religious practices. My further point was that the Get Law, earnestly promoted as an antidote to the Agunah problem, would be a feeble instrumentality against recalcitrant religious spouses. Time has proven me right.
From newspaper accounts, neither party to the incident was crowned in glory. The passenger was doubtlessly sincere and yet it is doubtful that it was necessary for him to daven at that moment. Why not earlier? I believe that in view of clearly stated halachic or religious legal teachings regarding exigencies during prayer, he could have acceded to the request to be seated.
The fact that he could have acted differently doesn’t necessarily get United off the hook. I have witnessed gratuitous insensitivity on airlines toward religious Jews by flight personnel. Although the passenger had no right to expect accommodation, would it have been difficult for the airline to accommodate? Was the plane that close to take-off?
The issue of prayer on a plane is not mere curiosity about the exotic behavior of people who are different. Religious Jews, as well as members of some other religious groups, are required to pray during set time periods and this inevitably means that on long flights they must calculate when they can fulfill this obligation. At times, this is a tough challenge for we Orthodox who may be praying and swaying while the plane is swaying.
Most often, flight personnel are tolerant, even if they aren’t always pleased. On ordinary flights which typically have few or no Orthodox, there isn’t much of an issue. El Al is a different story, as I trust most readers know. There is the added determination of certain Orthodox to daven with a minyan, for it results in critical liturgical advantages. The favorite gathering place for the group is adjacent to the lavatories where there is standing space, an unappetizing arrangement because other passengers have difficult access, the roar of the engines restricts the ability to hear the prayer leader, the likely proximity to persons who are dressed immodestly and the prospect of unpleasant odors. Yet, these circumstances do not deter the minyaneers.
My firm practice is to daven alone, at my seat or nearby if space is available and there are many Orthodox who do likewise.
Air travel is but a tiny slice of the accommodation conundrum. Deeply religious folks, such as Orthodox Jews and Muslims, are apt to have truckloads of requirements that do not accord with the way things are conducted in the larger society. As the outside world becomes more permissive, religious obligations may generate additional zones of desired accommodation. The list includes dress and other forms of religious appearance, hospital and burial requirements, food issues and workplace arrangements.
For all of the American ethos of tolerance, a desideratum exalted by secular Jews, there is much reluctance to accommodate religious persons, even when to do so entails little sweat. Animus toward religion trumps principle. I have for four decades worked for workplace protection of Sabbath observers against discrimination, a crusade that has received little support from secular Jews and, in recent years, from Orthodox organizations that see more fruitful public relations benefits through other activity.
The reluctance to accommodate religious Jewish sensibilities even when others are not inconvenienced was on display years ago in the celebrated Yale dormitory case when this university that is infused with tolerance refused to accommodate several Orthodox undergraduates who refused to avail themselves of the coeducational dormitory facilities that students must pay for. This shameful episode should be contrasted with Harvard’s recent decision to alter the schedule for its swimming facilities to accommodate Muslim women who out of modesty do not want to be in the same pool with male students. That entailed a direct inconvenience to other students, raising the question of whether liberal institutions are more keen to the sensibilities of Islamic students than to those sincerely articulated by religious Jews.
Another illustration is provided by Noah Feldman, greatly gifted and hypocritical, who went to court to oppose an Erev in Tenafly that would have inconvenienced no one and now is a staunch advocate of Shariah or Islamic religious law.
Although I advocate accommodation, I believe that there are limits, they being when inconvenience to others is significant and also when accommodation means that other people will have to act in accordance with our religious practices. There is a vast difference between not being able to use a coeducational pool – so you don’t swim! – and losing a job because of the inability to work on Shabbos. Alas, the former generates greater support from secularists.
More than a decade ago, I parted company with much of the Orthodox establishment on the so-called Get Law that requires persons married in a religious ceremony to arrange for a Get or religious divorce before their marriage can be undone in a civil proceeding. I felt that we must not require others to embrace our religious practices. My further point was that the Get Law, earnestly promoted as an antidote to the Agunah problem, would be a feeble instrumentality against recalcitrant religious spouses. Time has proven me right.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Something Is Terribly Wrong
As our community has grown stronger and more self-confident and amassed numerous impressive achievements, we have embraced ever-more restrictive approaches that were not part of our mindset a generation ago when we were far weaker but were led by Torah giants of transcendent stature.
There is now a culture of exclusion and prohibition in the yeshiva world, a dynamic that feeds on itself and therefore accelerates. Recently, there was the extraordinary ban on a concert scheduled in a Madison Square Garden auditorium. The prohibition was effective and the concert was cancelled. Painful scars remain.
Certainly if the event was deemed inappropriate in any way, a prohibition was in order – although its sponsorship by a respected Israeli charity and the fact that it had already been scheduled and planned at great cost should have been factors taken into account. What is striking about this episode – even frightening – is the violence of the language utilized in the ban, the impression being that in addition to prohibiting that which may have been inappropriate, the intent was to destroy.
The language utilized in this issur, or prohibition, that was signed by many prominent yeshiva deans and rabbis ought to be contrasted with the prohibition declared a half century ago by eleven great Torah leaders, the foremost being Rav Aharon Kotler, zt”l, against participation in the Synagogue Council of America and other rabbinical and congregational bodies together with Reform and Conservative clergy.
This was probably the seminal event in the contemporary development of American Orthodoxy. And yet, for all of the enormous significance of that prohibition, the statement announcing it did not come close in vehemence to the language employed in the prohibition of a relatively minor event and a particular singer who, apart from being a truly religious Jew, has done much chesed through his personal visits to critically ill children in our community.
Our leadership needs to reflect on this episode and also what it means to lead. They should pay attention to a recent article by Jonathan Rosenblum, a much-respected writer who lives in Israel. The article’s title is “Bans are not Chinuch” and it echoes what I wrote several years ago under the heading “Lead Us by Teaching, Not by Prohibitions.”
I have often underscored that in the more than twenty years of his leadership of the Torah community in this country, the Great Rosh Yeshiva of Lakewood rarely issued or joined in prohibitions, the Synagogue Council of America issue being the great exception. Rosenblum quotes Rav Yitzchak Hutner, zt”l, the eminent rosh yeshiva of Chaim Berlin, as saying, “One does not educate with issurim.”
There is, I think, a collateral issue arising from the process that results in certain prohibitions. When the subject is of a general or Klal Yisrael scope, Torah leaders invariably take the initiative and carefully ponder what to say and how to proceed.
When what is being banned is far more limited, however, there is a good chance the initiative comes from an individual who solicits support for his position, going from one rosh yeshiva or rav to another conveying the claim that something wrong is being done and needs to be prohibited. This often occurs over the phone and often without the reflection and consultation that should accompany prospective bans. The assumption is that the person who wants something prohibited is trustworthy. The process strikes me as a form of rechilus – carrying tales – or outright lashon hora. Is this appropriate?
I am pessimistic that the forces within our community that impel the flow of harsh statements and prohibitions will be tempered any time soon or that the attitudes that foster exclusionary and too often cruel policies regarding yeshiva admission and retention will be altered. We are increasingly trapped in a culture of prohibition and exclusion and this means we are increasingly at war against our own. Only when our roshei yeshiva who are our leaders and certainly merit our respect speak out against harsh policies – and come to understand that refusing to sign prohibitory statements may be a greater manifestation of authority and leadership – will the darkness be lifted.
It is not possible to know how many we are losing because of our harshness, how many we are losing because we are too ready to demonize and cast out. Parents, schools and Torah leaders are contributory factors when they fail to sufficiently appreciate that there are good children who cannot study for long hours or who are not ideal in their behavior, children who need to feel they are loved and respected for who they are and who are not cast out, either literally or through painful words. Because this truth is not sufficiently appreciated, our words and actions contribute to a limited extent to the number of dropouts from Yiddishkeit.
Furthermore, prohibitions and the harshness of some of our pronouncements and actions make it more difficult for us to retain or reach out to our youth who are at risk. We could retain more at-risk children and reclaim some who have moved beyond being at risk if we would show more kindness, more patience.
This is probably the most troubling aspect of what is happening within our community. There is spreading discontent over the culture of issur.
In all my years of klal activity I have never seen similar pain or heard such words of criticism as are now being expressed in yeshiva-world families among whom obedience has been the hallmark. I have heard nasty words about Torah leaders from outside of our four cubits and I have been the target of nastiness and hostility because of my advocacy of the primacy of the Torah world and its leaders. Never has there been such anguish and even discontent within our own ranks.
I cannot adequately express the pain I feel now over this brief essay. This world has been my spiritual home and much more. It is what I have given much of my life to. I am crying inside as I write these lines. Something is terribly wrong. The culture of issur is wrong. The alienation of too many of our young is wrong.
There is now a culture of exclusion and prohibition in the yeshiva world, a dynamic that feeds on itself and therefore accelerates. Recently, there was the extraordinary ban on a concert scheduled in a Madison Square Garden auditorium. The prohibition was effective and the concert was cancelled. Painful scars remain.
Certainly if the event was deemed inappropriate in any way, a prohibition was in order – although its sponsorship by a respected Israeli charity and the fact that it had already been scheduled and planned at great cost should have been factors taken into account. What is striking about this episode – even frightening – is the violence of the language utilized in the ban, the impression being that in addition to prohibiting that which may have been inappropriate, the intent was to destroy.
The language utilized in this issur, or prohibition, that was signed by many prominent yeshiva deans and rabbis ought to be contrasted with the prohibition declared a half century ago by eleven great Torah leaders, the foremost being Rav Aharon Kotler, zt”l, against participation in the Synagogue Council of America and other rabbinical and congregational bodies together with Reform and Conservative clergy.
This was probably the seminal event in the contemporary development of American Orthodoxy. And yet, for all of the enormous significance of that prohibition, the statement announcing it did not come close in vehemence to the language employed in the prohibition of a relatively minor event and a particular singer who, apart from being a truly religious Jew, has done much chesed through his personal visits to critically ill children in our community.
Our leadership needs to reflect on this episode and also what it means to lead. They should pay attention to a recent article by Jonathan Rosenblum, a much-respected writer who lives in Israel. The article’s title is “Bans are not Chinuch” and it echoes what I wrote several years ago under the heading “Lead Us by Teaching, Not by Prohibitions.”
I have often underscored that in the more than twenty years of his leadership of the Torah community in this country, the Great Rosh Yeshiva of Lakewood rarely issued or joined in prohibitions, the Synagogue Council of America issue being the great exception. Rosenblum quotes Rav Yitzchak Hutner, zt”l, the eminent rosh yeshiva of Chaim Berlin, as saying, “One does not educate with issurim.”
There is, I think, a collateral issue arising from the process that results in certain prohibitions. When the subject is of a general or Klal Yisrael scope, Torah leaders invariably take the initiative and carefully ponder what to say and how to proceed.
When what is being banned is far more limited, however, there is a good chance the initiative comes from an individual who solicits support for his position, going from one rosh yeshiva or rav to another conveying the claim that something wrong is being done and needs to be prohibited. This often occurs over the phone and often without the reflection and consultation that should accompany prospective bans. The assumption is that the person who wants something prohibited is trustworthy. The process strikes me as a form of rechilus – carrying tales – or outright lashon hora. Is this appropriate?
I am pessimistic that the forces within our community that impel the flow of harsh statements and prohibitions will be tempered any time soon or that the attitudes that foster exclusionary and too often cruel policies regarding yeshiva admission and retention will be altered. We are increasingly trapped in a culture of prohibition and exclusion and this means we are increasingly at war against our own. Only when our roshei yeshiva who are our leaders and certainly merit our respect speak out against harsh policies – and come to understand that refusing to sign prohibitory statements may be a greater manifestation of authority and leadership – will the darkness be lifted.
It is not possible to know how many we are losing because of our harshness, how many we are losing because we are too ready to demonize and cast out. Parents, schools and Torah leaders are contributory factors when they fail to sufficiently appreciate that there are good children who cannot study for long hours or who are not ideal in their behavior, children who need to feel they are loved and respected for who they are and who are not cast out, either literally or through painful words. Because this truth is not sufficiently appreciated, our words and actions contribute to a limited extent to the number of dropouts from Yiddishkeit.
Furthermore, prohibitions and the harshness of some of our pronouncements and actions make it more difficult for us to retain or reach out to our youth who are at risk. We could retain more at-risk children and reclaim some who have moved beyond being at risk if we would show more kindness, more patience.
This is probably the most troubling aspect of what is happening within our community. There is spreading discontent over the culture of issur.
In all my years of klal activity I have never seen similar pain or heard such words of criticism as are now being expressed in yeshiva-world families among whom obedience has been the hallmark. I have heard nasty words about Torah leaders from outside of our four cubits and I have been the target of nastiness and hostility because of my advocacy of the primacy of the Torah world and its leaders. Never has there been such anguish and even discontent within our own ranks.
I cannot adequately express the pain I feel now over this brief essay. This world has been my spiritual home and much more. It is what I have given much of my life to. I am crying inside as I write these lines. Something is terribly wrong. The culture of issur is wrong. The alienation of too many of our young is wrong.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Another School is Closing
Another Solomon Schechter school is closing, this time a small day school in Suffolk County that has valiantly struggled to survive. It has now yielded to enrollment and financial realities. I helped the school several years ago and am saddened by the decision to close its doors when the school year ends. Good people are offering assistance to students who transfer to the Nassau County Solomon Schechter, a much larger school. Likely, most of the students will not be in a Jewish day school in September and some of them will be lost to Judaism as a consequence.
Apparently, all that is left in day school education for all of Suffolk is a small Chabad school, which is astonishing given the number of Jews living in the county. What does this tell us about Jewish life, the Conservative movement and the day school world?
I believe that at least another six of the remaining Solomon Schechters in the U.S. are on the endangered list and that more than a few of the schools that appear to be secure have lost a significant number of students. There is a declining number of Conservative parents willing to select a Jewish day school for their children, in part because of high tuition but at least as importantly because of a decline in Judaic commitment. We are witness to the steady deterioration of the movement and notably to the meltdown of its crucial traditional wing.
It’s anyone’s guess how Arnold Eisen, Chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, fits into this development since he has scarcely been heard from, except for his early and successful effort to secure approval of Gay clergy, which, in turn, has resulted in the acceptance of other practices previously rejected by the Conservatives. For all of his talent and commitment, Dr. Eisen has demonstrated so far no apparent concern about the plight of Conservative day schools. This is a mistake.
He has his hands full at the Seminary and that is why from the Conservative perspective, it would have been preferable to separate the movement’s leadership position from JTS’s leadership. It is a no-brainer that the arrangement the Conservatives have followed basically since the movement’s birth is no longer functional. This is one area, however, where tradition is maintained, albeit a foolish tradition.
In a half-year, I expect to conduct another census of day schools, five years after the previous research. There will be an overall increase in enrollment, thanks overwhelmingly to high fertility in the chassidic and yeshiva-world sectors of Orthodoxy. What the data will show regarding other segments of the day school world is likely to be another story. My expectation is that Modern and Centrist Orthodox schools may not show much of an increase, if only because of the accelerated pace of aliyah, with young families leaving to Israel in record numbers, some to escape high and ever-increasing tuition charges.
Orthodox-sponsored schools that have an outreach function and serve marginally observant and/or immigrant families are obviously in poor shape. It is certain that their enrolment which showed a significant decline between 1998 and 2003 will show a further decline in next year’s census. The commitment and enthusiasm that generated Orthodox involvement in these schools – never at the level that was needed – have faded. Sadly, these crucial institutions are limping along and fewer parents are selecting them for their children.
For nearly twenty years, there has been mounting and incontrovertible evidence that more than any other Judaic activity day school education makes a major difference in determining Judaic outcomes. The data notwithstanding, our community remains cool to day schools and little has been done, except in a small number of middle size localities, to encourage additional families to choose these schools for their children. Those who have neglected day schools are increasingly championing charter schools, a dubious ”Jewish” educational mode. Charters inherently are extremely limited instrumentalities for promoting Jewish continuity. I fear that their major impact will be to draw additional students away from day schools, the result being that more Jewish schools will be added to the endangered list.
Further darkening the day school picture is the benign neglect of too many Orthodox leaders, including yeshiva deans, toward basic Jewish education. There is much talk about the tuition crisis and its consequences, but there is no connecting of the dots, no effort to remedy a problem that worsens each year. Much the same is true about the approach to outreach schools. It is as if talk is an acceptable surrogate for action. What salutary developments occur result from the generosity of individual philanthropists, some of whom are not Orthodox.
For more years than I can recall, I have pleaded for yeshiva deans and Torah leaders to proclaim that it is a religious obligation to support basic Torah education (K-12), something that they are willing to do for Israeli schools but not in the territory that is their core responsibility.
In the New York and New Jersey area where more than two-thirds of day schoolers live, there is no longer a viable remedy for the tuition crisis. The numbers are too daunting. It is still possible to strengthen schools that serve marginally observant families, but there is no effort on the horizon to do so. This is telling.
What is also frightening is the possible impact of the severe economic downturn on those schools that are hanging in there by not much more than a thread. They live a penurious existence in the best of times. How will they survive? A similar question arises regarding more than a few non-Orthodox day schools. The reality is that, in the main, their parents are less committed to full-time Jewish education. Will the economy erode the willingness of some parents to commit their resources to expensive day school education?
Apparently, all that is left in day school education for all of Suffolk is a small Chabad school, which is astonishing given the number of Jews living in the county. What does this tell us about Jewish life, the Conservative movement and the day school world?
I believe that at least another six of the remaining Solomon Schechters in the U.S. are on the endangered list and that more than a few of the schools that appear to be secure have lost a significant number of students. There is a declining number of Conservative parents willing to select a Jewish day school for their children, in part because of high tuition but at least as importantly because of a decline in Judaic commitment. We are witness to the steady deterioration of the movement and notably to the meltdown of its crucial traditional wing.
It’s anyone’s guess how Arnold Eisen, Chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, fits into this development since he has scarcely been heard from, except for his early and successful effort to secure approval of Gay clergy, which, in turn, has resulted in the acceptance of other practices previously rejected by the Conservatives. For all of his talent and commitment, Dr. Eisen has demonstrated so far no apparent concern about the plight of Conservative day schools. This is a mistake.
He has his hands full at the Seminary and that is why from the Conservative perspective, it would have been preferable to separate the movement’s leadership position from JTS’s leadership. It is a no-brainer that the arrangement the Conservatives have followed basically since the movement’s birth is no longer functional. This is one area, however, where tradition is maintained, albeit a foolish tradition.
In a half-year, I expect to conduct another census of day schools, five years after the previous research. There will be an overall increase in enrollment, thanks overwhelmingly to high fertility in the chassidic and yeshiva-world sectors of Orthodoxy. What the data will show regarding other segments of the day school world is likely to be another story. My expectation is that Modern and Centrist Orthodox schools may not show much of an increase, if only because of the accelerated pace of aliyah, with young families leaving to Israel in record numbers, some to escape high and ever-increasing tuition charges.
Orthodox-sponsored schools that have an outreach function and serve marginally observant and/or immigrant families are obviously in poor shape. It is certain that their enrolment which showed a significant decline between 1998 and 2003 will show a further decline in next year’s census. The commitment and enthusiasm that generated Orthodox involvement in these schools – never at the level that was needed – have faded. Sadly, these crucial institutions are limping along and fewer parents are selecting them for their children.
For nearly twenty years, there has been mounting and incontrovertible evidence that more than any other Judaic activity day school education makes a major difference in determining Judaic outcomes. The data notwithstanding, our community remains cool to day schools and little has been done, except in a small number of middle size localities, to encourage additional families to choose these schools for their children. Those who have neglected day schools are increasingly championing charter schools, a dubious ”Jewish” educational mode. Charters inherently are extremely limited instrumentalities for promoting Jewish continuity. I fear that their major impact will be to draw additional students away from day schools, the result being that more Jewish schools will be added to the endangered list.
Further darkening the day school picture is the benign neglect of too many Orthodox leaders, including yeshiva deans, toward basic Jewish education. There is much talk about the tuition crisis and its consequences, but there is no connecting of the dots, no effort to remedy a problem that worsens each year. Much the same is true about the approach to outreach schools. It is as if talk is an acceptable surrogate for action. What salutary developments occur result from the generosity of individual philanthropists, some of whom are not Orthodox.
For more years than I can recall, I have pleaded for yeshiva deans and Torah leaders to proclaim that it is a religious obligation to support basic Torah education (K-12), something that they are willing to do for Israeli schools but not in the territory that is their core responsibility.
In the New York and New Jersey area where more than two-thirds of day schoolers live, there is no longer a viable remedy for the tuition crisis. The numbers are too daunting. It is still possible to strengthen schools that serve marginally observant families, but there is no effort on the horizon to do so. This is telling.
What is also frightening is the possible impact of the severe economic downturn on those schools that are hanging in there by not much more than a thread. They live a penurious existence in the best of times. How will they survive? A similar question arises regarding more than a few non-Orthodox day schools. The reality is that, in the main, their parents are less committed to full-time Jewish education. Will the economy erode the willingness of some parents to commit their resources to expensive day school education?
Friday, March 21, 2008
More Jewish Numbers
It is a good bet that there won’t be a 2010 National Jewish Population Survey along the lines of the previous decennial NJPS studies that generated much attention and argument. It is as good a bet that our fixation with numbers games will not abate anytime soon. Demography is now in the Jewish blood. What did NJPS in is its extraordinary high cost and methodological impediments that have sharply reduced the appetite for another big-time project. In place of NJPS, we will get surrogate demography, attempts to cobble together bits and pieces of research and data from a number of sources to produce what will be identified as a reliable picture of American Jewish life. Along with the numbers, we will get more controversy.
We now have an additional and significant contribution to the quantitative study of American Jewry, this from outside of the flock, as it comes from the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, the sponsor of the U.S. Religious Landscape Survey. I believe that this is the most extensive and ambitious privately funded study of religion in America. More than 35,000 participants were interviewed by phone, including a cohort that was reached by cell phone. A first report on religious affiliation was released several weeks ago; there will be two additional reports in the coming months, one dealing with religious practices and beliefs and the other with social and political views.
I am curious to know how much Pew has spent on the project, whether it was above or below the high cost for the obviously much narrower scope of NJPS 2000-01, an undertaking that broke the budget and serves as an enduring case study of the ineptitude of the American Jewish bureaucracy. Whatever the cost, hooray for Pew. Inevitably and appropriately, there will be critics and there are methodological issues that merit examination.
We are told in an appendix to the Pew report that “statistical results” were “weighted to correct known demographic discrepancies.” This is always a curious matter because the implication is that statistics are being manipulated to conform with what researchers believe to be the truth before they undertake the research. Another question mark is the employment of random digital dialing to reach participants. The reported response rate was 24%, a statistic that Pew claims is adequate. I wonder about this and also wonder whether, in fact, the response rate was lower.
Yet, what emerges is of enormous value, particularly because the central thesis is that religious affiliation in the U.S. is “very diversified” and “extremely fluid,” with persons switching their affiliation at an unprecedented rate, moving from one religious group to another or abandoning affiliation altogether. In a word, religious identity is going the way of social class, geographic location, employment and other social indicators where there is a great deal of movement.
The pattern discerned by Pew confirms the point that I have made repeatedly over the past twenty years that American Jewish affiliation is increasingly a membership arrangement, with people free to join or leave. This has been true for white ethnic groups for a very long while and it is increasingly true of religious groups.
By relying on self-reporting by respondents of their religious identity rather than on more complex and difficult to pin down aspects of religiosity, Pew avoided the pitfalls that have plagued American Jewish demography, such issues as intermarriage, non-Jews living in Jewish households and whether or how to count persons born Jewish who say they are no longer Jewish or have no affiliation. Our research has resulted in serial arguments about core Jews and semantics. Pew adheres to a simplified sociological approach. A Catholic is someone who says he/she is Catholic and a Jew is someone who says he/she is Jewish.
One problem with Pew’s Jewish statistics is that there were only 682 self-reporting Jews in the survey, which is about 15% of the number who were interviewed in the last NJPS. Accordingly, the margin of error is quite high. Still, Pew’s estimate of 3.8 million Jewish adults (age 18+) is close to the NJPS figure of 4.1 million. It is possible that in the intervening six or seven years there has been a further decline in the number of adult Jews resulting from 1) the aging of our population, 2) low fertility and 3) the ongoing disaffiliation from Judaism.
According to Pew, 10% of Jewish adults are Orthodox, a statistic that is somewhat higher than what emerges from other studies. In view of exceedingly high Orthodox fertility, it is likely that if all age groups are calculated, Orthodoxy now constitutes in excess of 12% of all American Jews.
The greatest controversy so far regarding the Pew data concerns the finding that 15% of those now self-identifying as Jewish are converts. This is an astonishingly high figure as it is more than unlikely that 600,000 adults who report themselves as Jewish are converts and the statistic is far above what NJPS and others have reported. A possible explanation is that Pew’s approach to conversion differs from that employed by NJPS and Jewish demographers. Whereas we regard conversion as occurring after some religious process and ritual, Pew’s reliance on self-reporting probably means that any person not born Jewish – let’s say someone in a Jewish household who now identifies as Jewish – is counted as such, irrespective of whether there was a formal religious procedure.
Pew points to a continuing process of Jewish population attrition, an assessment that will be challenged by the increasingly dominant group of demographers who claim population gains because of intermarriage and even other developments away from traditional Judaism. According to Pew, 51% of American Jews are 50 or older. The implications of this need not be spelled out. Also, 72% of Jewish adults say that there are no children under the age of 18 living at home.
The handwriting is on the wall.
We now have an additional and significant contribution to the quantitative study of American Jewry, this from outside of the flock, as it comes from the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, the sponsor of the U.S. Religious Landscape Survey. I believe that this is the most extensive and ambitious privately funded study of religion in America. More than 35,000 participants were interviewed by phone, including a cohort that was reached by cell phone. A first report on religious affiliation was released several weeks ago; there will be two additional reports in the coming months, one dealing with religious practices and beliefs and the other with social and political views.
I am curious to know how much Pew has spent on the project, whether it was above or below the high cost for the obviously much narrower scope of NJPS 2000-01, an undertaking that broke the budget and serves as an enduring case study of the ineptitude of the American Jewish bureaucracy. Whatever the cost, hooray for Pew. Inevitably and appropriately, there will be critics and there are methodological issues that merit examination.
We are told in an appendix to the Pew report that “statistical results” were “weighted to correct known demographic discrepancies.” This is always a curious matter because the implication is that statistics are being manipulated to conform with what researchers believe to be the truth before they undertake the research. Another question mark is the employment of random digital dialing to reach participants. The reported response rate was 24%, a statistic that Pew claims is adequate. I wonder about this and also wonder whether, in fact, the response rate was lower.
Yet, what emerges is of enormous value, particularly because the central thesis is that religious affiliation in the U.S. is “very diversified” and “extremely fluid,” with persons switching their affiliation at an unprecedented rate, moving from one religious group to another or abandoning affiliation altogether. In a word, religious identity is going the way of social class, geographic location, employment and other social indicators where there is a great deal of movement.
The pattern discerned by Pew confirms the point that I have made repeatedly over the past twenty years that American Jewish affiliation is increasingly a membership arrangement, with people free to join or leave. This has been true for white ethnic groups for a very long while and it is increasingly true of religious groups.
By relying on self-reporting by respondents of their religious identity rather than on more complex and difficult to pin down aspects of religiosity, Pew avoided the pitfalls that have plagued American Jewish demography, such issues as intermarriage, non-Jews living in Jewish households and whether or how to count persons born Jewish who say they are no longer Jewish or have no affiliation. Our research has resulted in serial arguments about core Jews and semantics. Pew adheres to a simplified sociological approach. A Catholic is someone who says he/she is Catholic and a Jew is someone who says he/she is Jewish.
One problem with Pew’s Jewish statistics is that there were only 682 self-reporting Jews in the survey, which is about 15% of the number who were interviewed in the last NJPS. Accordingly, the margin of error is quite high. Still, Pew’s estimate of 3.8 million Jewish adults (age 18+) is close to the NJPS figure of 4.1 million. It is possible that in the intervening six or seven years there has been a further decline in the number of adult Jews resulting from 1) the aging of our population, 2) low fertility and 3) the ongoing disaffiliation from Judaism.
According to Pew, 10% of Jewish adults are Orthodox, a statistic that is somewhat higher than what emerges from other studies. In view of exceedingly high Orthodox fertility, it is likely that if all age groups are calculated, Orthodoxy now constitutes in excess of 12% of all American Jews.
The greatest controversy so far regarding the Pew data concerns the finding that 15% of those now self-identifying as Jewish are converts. This is an astonishingly high figure as it is more than unlikely that 600,000 adults who report themselves as Jewish are converts and the statistic is far above what NJPS and others have reported. A possible explanation is that Pew’s approach to conversion differs from that employed by NJPS and Jewish demographers. Whereas we regard conversion as occurring after some religious process and ritual, Pew’s reliance on self-reporting probably means that any person not born Jewish – let’s say someone in a Jewish household who now identifies as Jewish – is counted as such, irrespective of whether there was a formal religious procedure.
Pew points to a continuing process of Jewish population attrition, an assessment that will be challenged by the increasingly dominant group of demographers who claim population gains because of intermarriage and even other developments away from traditional Judaism. According to Pew, 51% of American Jews are 50 or older. The implications of this need not be spelled out. Also, 72% of Jewish adults say that there are no children under the age of 18 living at home.
The handwriting is on the wall.
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