Isolationism vs. Socialization - Part II
RAV KOOKS LETTERS
By Rav Tamir Granot
Shiur #26b:
Isolationism vs. Socialization (continued)
Let us briefly review the contradictory elements in
Rav Kook's teachings in the social realm and in the cultural-educational realm.
Social
Realm
On the one hand, Rav Kook emphasizes the obligation
to love every person, and certainly every fellow Jew even sinners. On the
other hand, he speaks in favor of secluding the individual who seeks to attain
piety from the masses, with their mundane aspirations.[1]
In one place, he writes that thoughts about holiness
must include an element of social betterment; otherwise, they are deficient.
Elsewhere, he justifies the price that is paid for isolationism at the expense
of society and the sense of belonging to it.[2] The idea of the unity of Knesset Yisrael and its various
parts occupies a central place in his thought.[3] Nevertheless, he speaks of the need for separation between the
various sectors of society.[4]
Cultural
realm
Rav Kook often speaks about the kernel of truth in
every view and about the manifestations of goodness and Divine will in every
ideal phenomenon in the world. He also writes about the contribution of
philosophy and sciences to our understanding of ourselves.
Nevertheless, when it comes to an educational
program, we find no pedagogic curriculum that includes the study of secular
disciplines. There is no doubt that Rav Kook's ideas were revolutionary in their
time, but the curriculum which he planned for a yeshiva, for example, included
only study of different branches of Judaism. Alexandrov's suggestion of
establishing a beit midrash for rabbis that would also include secular
culture and philosophy was likewise rejected.[5] Rav Kook was familiar with the "Torah Im Derekh Eretz"
school, but despite all his talk about it, he did not permit the teaching of
secular subjects in cheders.
This point must be viewed in a broader context. Rav
Kook functioned as the Rabbi of the "old yishuv" the ancient, pietist
Jewish community in Jerusalem, and later as the Chief Rabbi of Palestine. The
model of absolute separatism was maintained by the old yishuv, and
especially by its more extremist elements. Clearly, in contrast with the Eda
Charedit, Rav Kook's approach was quite different. We shall address a few
words to the motives behind the isolationism of the charedi society and
then return to the stance adopted by Rav Kook.[6]
The ideology of isolationism and separatism is a most central element in
charedi life in general, and amongst the Eda Charedit in
particular. Part of the conflict that developed among the leadership of the old
yishuv concerning whether or not to accept Rav Kook as the rabbi of the
Ashkenazi community in Jerusalem after World War I arose from the fact that the
leaders of the Eda feared that he would undermine the ideology of
isolation that erected a wall between the charedi community and the
outside world. The leaders viewed this seclusion as vital to the preservation of
the religious way of life and education, as they perceived them.
Studies conducted among radically conservative
religious communities that exist
alongside a modern and liberal society (such as the Amish sect in the US) have
indicated common characteristics in their perceptions of isolation and have
developed parameters for measuring the extent and depth of the isolation that is
maintained.[7]
In general, we discern two main types of isolationism or seclusion:
·
Ecological isolationism
·
Sociometric isolationism
Ecological isolationism is expressed in two main areas:
-
Separate housing, in separate areas
-
Non-participation in organizations and institutions which would usually
bring the inhabitants of that town or country together in a spirit of
cooperation as a result of common interests, needs, or sense of common fate.
Ecological isolationism is easy to measure because it is
expressed in measurable facts. For instance, it is clear that there is a
distinct phenomenon of ghettoization among charedi communities in Israel,
which began with the old yishuv in Jerusalem. As the charedi
community grows and spreads, it is increasingly concentrated in ghettos. In
addition, the position of the Eda Charedit leadership (Rabbis
Zonnenfeld and Diskin, and later also Blau and Rabinowitz) was that all forms of
organizational cooperation with bodies that were outside of the Eda and
which did not accept its values must be avoided. Thus, for example, the
leadership of the Eda avoided cooperating with the institutions of the
Jewish settlement (the Zionist pioneers), and later the National Council (Va'ad
Leumi), and later still with the Jerusalem municipality and the State of
Israel in general. The blanket non-enlistment in the IDF to this day arises
first and foremost from the ideology of isolationism, and only afterwards from
issues related to Torah study or the conditions necessary for observing
mitzvot properly.
Yehuda Liebes noted an interesting connection between
the rhetoric and ideology of the Eda Charedit and the writings of the
Qumran sect, which reflect a similar model of social and ideological conduct.[8] I believe that an understanding of the concept behind sects may
shed light on the phenomenon of isolationism in the charedi community.
In every society, there are different sectors with
various properties pertaining to social and/or economic status, culture,
religion, internal language, and even leadership. The historical and
sociological question is at what point a certain group within society is
transformed from a regular group into a sect. A sect is a sort of social enclave
that exists within the general national environment, possessing clear boundaries
despite its fundamental belonging to the greater civic group (territorially,
administratively, ethnically, etc.). What, then, defines a group as a sect? We
may ask further: which historical or social situation catalyzes the development
and growth of such enclaves within the greater society?[9]
In order to address this question, let us consider
the processes that led to the flourishing of the sects during the Second Temple
Period. This historical instance serves as an excellent example of the phenomena
we are discussing. The sects at the time of the Second Temple did indeed
maintain themselves, for the most part, as enclaves within the general society.
Let us briefly review them and their characteristics:
During the Second Temple Period, starting from the
time of the Hasmonean rule, there were four main sect-enclaves: the Pharisees,
the Sadducees, the Qumran sect, and the Essenes (some scholars count the latter
two as the same group). All of these groups stand out as having special codes of
affiliation, serving to define their members. Some of these codes related to
halakhic issues, such as marriage bans, a status of ritual purity required for
the consumption of food, etc. In other words, there were particular usually
stringent halakhic norms that represented a sort of test for membership in the
group, and thus also served to define it.
These sects sometimes also had unique social
features. Thus, for example, the Qumran sect and the Essenes appear to have
lived with no structure of a family unit; some scholars claim that they were
men-only groups. On the socio-economic level, too, there was a fixed arrangement
of joint property. The members of the sect also had defined and limited areas of
occupation.
The Pharisees and Sadducees did not create ecological
seclusion; they lived among the general population. The Essenes and the Qumran
members, in contrast, viewed distance from the "bourgeois" center and the
political administration as a vital component in the molding of the sect.
Another aspect of the definition of sects is their
attitude towards the general society and the administration, as expressed in
their writings and, more broadly, in their ideology. The perception of the
administration as an evil regime for example, among the Qumran members is
one of the defining factors serving to create the enclave that severs itself
from the institutional system. Likewise, the Pharisees separated themselves from
the competing sect the Sadducees.
Attention should be paid to the fact that the sects
were generally not large. To the extent that the internal norms are more severe
and radical, the sect will be smaller. According to different estimates, the 4
sects discussed above did not number more than 20,000 members a relatively
small number in relation to the general population. Most of the population was
unaffiliated, and generally identified with the center and with the regime, for
ideological and/or pragmatic reasons. However, there were wider circles of
identification that included even some people who were located socially
outside of the enclave, but supported its thinking, admired its leaders, etc.
The existence of such external circles is noticeable especially around the
moderate enclaves, such as the Pharisees and Sadducees.
Why, then, did these sects flourish specifically
during the Second Temple Period, and especially under Hasmonean rule (2nd
century B.C.E. until the Destruction)? I propose two explanations which I
believe to be of central importance, and which might contribute to our
understanding of sectarian processes in our own times:
a.
All the sects were conservative in relation to the
dominant line in society. Despite all the differences between them, the
Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes were all enclaves of pronounced traditional
religious observance, while the surrounding society adopted, in varying degrees,
new cultural modes, especially Hellenist influences. Judaism itself existed as
an enclave in relation to the surrounding culture. The framework of the Jewish
enclave was defined by the laws of kashrut, ritual purity and impurity, marriage
bans, etc. The gradual adoption of Hellenistic culture therefore represented an
erosion of the status and power of the national enclave.
Hence, the sects were a response to the loss of traditional
continuity and, along with it, the particular identity of the masses and their
leadership the enclave ceased to exist as such. The feeling among some parts
of the nation was that this was a massive drift and deterioration in the
religious and moral realm, with such enormous power (an objective fact, in view
of the dominance of the Hellenistic culture) that there was no hope of
influencing it from within. The obvious conclusion was that the only way to
preserve identity was by creating an enclave within society, which, owing to its
elitist character and small size, and because of the mechanisms of education and
the strong barriers, could replace the mediocre, corrupt environment.
b.
To this we must add the specific expectations that
the nation had of the Hasmonean leadership in particular and of this period in
general. The Hasmonean revolution was a response to a process of acute loss of
identity and spiritual corruption, as they themselves viewed it. The Hasmonean
leadership aroused messianic expectations, owing to the visibly religious
character of the new leadership, the purification of the Temple, and also the
religious and national renewal. Unquestionably, those who viewed the Jewish
religion as the center of the nation's existence pinned great hopes on this new
leadership. However, they were disappointed; at almost the very moment that the
Hasmonean kingdom reached its apogee, it began to adopt Hellenistic modes of
administration and culture. The disillusion at the failure of the visions of
redemption to materialize was bitter. This was disillusion at the central
government and led naturally enough to lack of faith in the establishment. The
sects, as noted, were an attempt to find an alternative to the central
government which had disappointed the people, while nurturing hopes that the
messianic visions could be realized in relation to an enclave that lived an
ideal religious life and was therefore worthy of redemption.
This view is especially apparent among the Qumran members, who
regarded themselves as "people of the light" and viewed the possibility of
redemption as applying only to themselves. Among the Pharisees and, seemingly
also the Sadducees, this view assumed a more moderate tone. In order to
understand why, we must draw a distinction between two fundamental forms of
enclave:
-
A secluded ("introvert") enclave which removes itself altogether from
society, such as the Qumran sect and the Essenes.
-
An activist (or "reformist"[10]) enclave, which establishes a separate framework for itself,
but does so with the hope of influencing the central culture and the
establishment and changing them. The activist enclave, with its constructivist
position, usually does not negate the legitimacy of the establishment, and may
even cooperate with it, despite moral and cultural differences. The expectation
is that redemption will come as a result of the influence of the enclave on
society as a whole.
Let us now go back and examine Rav Kook's ideology
and its continuation among his students and Religious Zionists. According to the
various parameters defining a sectarian view, can we say that Rav Kook supported
a sect-like mode of life or not?
At first glance, it would seem clear that Rav Kook's
position was quite different. I am not familiar with any expression emanating
from him in favor of ecological seclusion, and his choice of dwelling in Yaffo
and afterwards in Jerusalem (outside the boundaries of the charedi
neighborhood) support this.[11] From the organizational point of view, Rav Kook was fervently
in favor of cooperation with the secular, Zionist institutions, and in a certain
sense even regarded cooperation between different streams with opposing
ideologies as a positive phenomenon.[12] Admittedly, he founded the Degel Yerushalayim movement outside
of the Zionist movement, but it seems that it was not an inclination towards
seclusion that was at work here, but rather an attempt to create a super-party
body with objectives that were different from those of the organized Zionist
movement. His connections with all parts of the public, on the most practical
level, were diverse and not only because of his position. One might say that
he viewed his role as a springboard to creating bonds whose significance was
public, rather than personal. Mention should also be made of his vehement
opposition to the idea of the separation of communities, which arose towards the
end of his life, when some people proposed importing the concept from Europe.[13]
We may say, in general, that the history of Religious
Zionism, in sociological terms, has generally reflected a continuation of this
position of Rav Kook. Religious Zionism, with its different branches, has always
supported political partnership in national as well as municipal leadership,
service in the IDF (although for a shorter period, but not out of a desire for
separatism), and life amongst secular society. The establishment of residential
enterprises such as Ha-Kibbutz Ha-Dati (the Religious Kibbutz Movement) does
not, in and of itself, testify to a trend toward separatism; the Religious
Kibbutz Movement certainly maintains no such ideology. And homogenous
communities with strong ideological foundations, such as some of the settlements
in Judea and Samaria, have counterparts reflecting different ideological
positions (communities based on socialism, secularism, etc.).[14]
The second yardstick for separatism is, as noted, the
sociometric measurement. By this we refer, first and foremost, to the
aspirations and feelings that a certain community has towards another, an
assessment of it. In order words, we are talking to a considerable degree about
the quality of relations prevailing between the different communities, as
expressed on the emotional level for example, in the names or labels that one
community attaches to another, etc. Another realm which arises largely from this
is the cultural realm that is, the negative assessment or perception of a
community is usually related to its culture and values being viewed as inferior
or negative. The sociological result of such an assessment is that action is
taken to diminish its cultural influence, and even to negate it completely if
possible. In charedi society, and particularly amongst the Eda
Charedit, Zionists in general, and secular Zionists in particular, are
perceived as criminals. The fact that a secular Israeli Jew is not a committed,
observant believer is not and cannot be viewed as a problem of belief and
opinion alone. A Shabbat-desecrator is a criminal; his moral personality is
inferior. Where there is rejection of religion, the entire culture associated
with it, whether as part of either its cause or its effect, is shunned along
with that rejection.
The Eda Charedit maintains a
categorical rejection of modern culture, in its moral and essential sense. The
charedi world does at times employ the tools of this culture
technology, medicine, transport, etc. but only where their value is perceived
as being purely instrumental. This seclusion from culture leads to educational
frameworks which leave no room for the study of subjects or the instruction of
people related to general, secular culture. It minimizes media consumption and
gives rise to prohibitions on purchasing cultural products such as books, works
of art, etc. The externalization of differentness is achieved through uniformity
of dress, based on the deliberate desire to create clear identification signs
and a separation between the secluded charedi community and the street.
Anachronistic dress serves this purpose particularly well, since it indicates at
the same time the community's conservative character and its bond with the dated
qua dated.[15]
Attention should be paid to the fact that all the
parameters discussed thus far are viewed by the Halakha with indifference.
Places of residence, sociometric assessment, dress, and organizational
membership are neither supported nor opposed by halakhic rulings, in the narrow
sense. The issue is maintained on the social level. Theoretically, there is no
contradiction between meticulous halakhic observance on the individual or
communal level and an integrative social ideology. On the practical level,
however, the charedi leadership believes that they are incompatible.
According to the concepts we have discussed above,
there is no doubt that charedi society maintains itself as a sect in
relation to general society. The extremist factions may be defined as a secluded
enclave, and the resemblance to the processes during the Second Temple Period is
unmistakable. The breaching of the walls of the Jewish enclave during the 19th
century and the Jewish identification with secular culture led to the creation
of a small enclave the charedi community which continues the path of
the larger enclave that disappeared into modern life, in some instances adopting
positions even more radical than the standards of that new culture.
On this level, too, Rav Kook's views appear to be
altogether different. One of the most audacious and controversial elements of
his thought was the recognition that heresy was not necessarily the result of
criminality and moral inferiority; sometimes, it was an expression of the
highest demands and aspirations of the soul, which could find no satisfaction in
the standard halakhic framework. Rav Kook, as we know, admired the idealism of
the secular pioneers in Israel, viewing it as one of the clearest signs of
redemption. Without elaborating on this point, it is clear that we would expect
this position in principle to influence his social ideology. Rav Kook, too,
perceived the processes of the breaching of the enclave as a crisis, but a
constructive one, part of a dialectical process leading towards development and
elevation. On the cultural level, too, it must be said that Rav Kook valued the
truths he discerned in the developing western culture and in the spiritual world
of the pioneers. Specifically, there were many values espoused by the people of
the new yishuv and their spiritual leadership that were dear to him,
including socialism, freedom, the call for creativity, nationalism, etc. We are
also familiar with Rav Kook's positive vision for the Hebrew University and for
the Betzalel School of Arts.
All of these elements should logically have produced
an ideology of "Torah with Derekh Eretz," cultural involvement, a broad
education, and a call for integration but this was not the case.[16] Culturally and educationally, pragmatically, Rav Kook supported
seclusion and the maintenance of an enclave with thick boundaries.
Let us consider the conclusions of our analysis thus
far:
The contrast in Rav Kook's thought between the trend
to separatism and the trend to integration and socialization appears to be a
contrast between philosophy and practice. On the ideal level, Rav Kook's
teachings contain none of the principles which are usually the basis for
separatism and seclusion. On the practical level at least in the realm of
education and educational relations there is separation in practice. Why did
Rav Kook himself not propose the model of a yeshiva high school, such that when
this new model of institution arose, it was perceived as a second-rate option?[17]
Why did Rav Kook never dream up the idea of an
academic yeshiva, something along the lines of Yeshiva University? After all,
many of the problems that he foresaw in his deliberations concerning Hebrew
University or the Betzalel School and which were indeed realized in these two
institutions would never have come about in an institution under yeshiva
auspices, if initiatives related to secular culture could have been nurtured, in
a deliberate manner, from within the religious world.
Furthermore, in an excerpt which explicitly and
deliberately addresses the problem of separatism, Rav Kook rules that the
separatist approach is in fact the correct approach, and the "generalization"
his term for the attempt at social integration between sectors with completely
different languages and spiritual aspirations would inflict both spiritual and
social harm:
This is
the inheritance of God in all matters of holiness separation for the sake of
unification, the opposite of crude generalization, which speaks nobly about
uniting everything into one package, and thus loses all spiritual glory and
majesty. In the end, the darkening of life dims the light of clear thought, and
the crude, unique love of every creation becomes stronger and poisonous, to the
point that everything separates and the entire world moves like a drunk weighed
down by sin. The other side begins with unification and ends with separation;
the side of holiness starts with separation and ends with unification. (Orot
Ha-kodesh II, p. 439)
Rav Kook illustrates his view with the analogy of the separation between
Israel and the other nations and between kohanim and rest of Am
Yisrael, as well as the distinction between "chaverim" fellow
members of the pietist community and the ignorant masses. The last example is
of special importance, because in contrast to the first two, it is not the
result of a Divine decree or a given metaphysical difference. It is a social and
historical policy decision, within clearly defined circumstances, aimed at
creating a social barrier between two Jewish sectors, while the difference
between them was much smaller than the chasm separating the secular and
religious sectors in our times. Spiritual aspirations, progress and elevation in
Torah, and/or the desire for a life of purity characterized the lives of the "chaverim,"
causing them to put up a rigid barrier to the extent of not providing social
assistance to secular ignoramuses who were not part of their community:
The chaverim,
special individuals, in separating from the ignorant (amei ha-aretz),
thereby protect their lofty aspirations, which are far greater than all ordinary
values, and they become the bearers of qualities and concepts that when they
are spread are a source of blessing for the public. Their solidification in
life leads to the very foundation of life, which finds it value in them and
proceeds towards its eternal and temporary purpose. (Ibid.)
The immediate significance of this is its support for the creation of
separate communities with thick boundaries between them and other communities.[18]
While Rav
Kook asserts that this separation is ultimately for the sake of connecting, it
is not clear how this is to happen. He provides no program for example, to
have young people secluded for thirty years and then go out to establish kollels
in development towns. This also does not seem to be his intention.
I believe that in the cultural/educational sphere as well as in the
social sphere, we may summarize as follows: The contrast inherent in the
writings of Rav Kook is not the result of contradictory metaphysical statements
or contradictory moral perceptions. His opinion as to the positive elements that
are to be found in the general culture are clear. His view in favor of the
secular pioneers and in favor of national activity and the array of issues that
it involves are likewise clear. In the organizational realm, he certainly
supports a trend towards integration and opposes seclusion. Concerning the
question of residence, I have no clear proof, and it is possible that Rav Kook
did not enjoy the array of possibilities that are familiar to us today. The
contrast, then, is located in the encounter between his metaphysics and the
practical ideology which he maintains. In other words, the self-evident
implications of his philosophical positions are absent; in their place, we find
support for social separation, educational institutions devoted solely to Torah
education, and the creation of a barrier to keep out external culture. On the
personal level, it is clear that Rav Kook's dress likewise identified him as
charedi but here, too, we have no way of knowing whether this was a matter
of principle or a personal choice arising from his position and the tradition he
was used to.
Among Rav Kook's students and followers, too, we see a trend towards
separatism and even a strengthening of this trend. We may point to certain
groups among Religious Zionists, especially among the students of Merkaz Ha-Rav
yeshiva and its outgrowths and the settlements that define themselves as "Torani,"
as miniature enclaves. Their nationalist ideology in no way mitigates this. Of
course, the Religious Zionist enclaves are not isolationist. They are activist
communities meaning, they seek to bring about change in the central leadership
and culture. This is also the reason for their cooperation on the practical
level, as was the custom among the Pharisees and Sadducees. Nevertheless, most
of the conditions of an enclave exist. There is cultural separation such as,
for example, particular media (Arutz 7, Makor Rishon, etc., and
non-consumption of general media); limitations on cultural consumption
(semi-censored literature and art); meticulous attention to special dress codes
(to my mind, the stringent standards concerning head-coverings, long skirts, and
other items of clothing, and the battle to enforce them, comes as part of the
quest for signs of separation, rather than necessarily the reflection of a
purely halakhic ideology.) Settlement, especially in homogenous communities,
completes this process through physical distancing from the general population's
centers and the creation of "ecological" separation.
One of the most distinct symbols of the enclave is the sometimes
unconscious creation of an internal code of speech, which is unintelligible
outside of the enclave. It would seem that in this sphere, too, we might say
that an internal language exists among the students of Rav Kook and his school,
to the point where an outsider would not understand, for example, a shiur
on Jewish belief at any of the yeshivot that are outgrowths of Yeshivat
Merkaz Ha-rav.
This perspective allows us a better understanding of several processes
which have taken place in Religious Zionism in recent years. The source of these
processes, and the kernel of the struggles that have come about, relate to the
idea (which, of course, has its distinct charedi parallel) that "our
people" must exist as an enclave, and that the enclave must be fortified.[19]
The same contrast that we have demonstrated on the social level also
exists on the personal level. On one hand, Rav Kook talks about the inclusion of
the individual in the soul, or life-force, of the nation, and the organic
relationship and fundamental bond between the individual and the community. On
the other hand, he shows support for asceticism and personal seclusion,
expresses empathy with feelings of spiritual foreignness to the atmosphere of
society at large, and on the practical level recommends meditation for the
purposes of spiritual development. Almost nowhere in all of this does he create
the model for a process: first isolation, then action on behalf of society. He
seems to be referring to a permanent situation of inner quest for spiritual
elevation. Thus, while Rav Kook's metaphysics is all about unity, his practical
recommendation is asceticism and individualism.
If all of the above is correct, then what we detect here is a phenomenon
that also exists in other areas of Rav Kook's teachings. An excellent example of
a similar state of affairs to the one described above is to be found in the
realm of Halakha. Halakhic philosophy is one of the central areas to which Rav
Kook addressed himself. His vision concerning Halakha is wide-ranging.
Essentially, he formulated the difference between the "Torah (teaching) of
Eretz Yisrael" and the "teaching outside of the land." As he explains it,
both the in-depth study and the halakhic rulings up until his time were
characterized by an exilic form of thought and action. Rav Kook called for a
synthesis of Halakha with other areas of religious study, such as Aggada,
kabbalah, and the textual study of Tanakh. He spoke about the inner,
quasi-prophetic inspiration which should imbue the ruling of Halakha in Eretz
Yisrael. He depicts the Oral Law as the manifestation of the collective soul
of Knesset Yisrael, which by definition reveals God's will in the world,
in accordance with the Written Law. He analyzed further the gradual and
historical nature of the revelation of God's will in reality. Despite all of
this, the body of his own halakhic rulings and scholarly writings remains
conventional and conservative, with little innovation. Many have struggled with
this contrast in his oeuvre.[20]
Some
reached the conclusion that a dialectic is involved;[21] others
sought to explain it in terms of outside circumstances and pressures and the
desire to preserve his status. Still others protest: What Rav Kook proposed is
enough. One single person cannot bring such a vast array of new ideas into the
world and also put them directly into practice!
I believe that none of these responses touches on the root of the chasm
in Rav Kook's teachings. The root is to be found in the same place where we find
the difference between his unifying philosophy and his sometimes secluding,
separationist practice.
I believe that the contrast between Rav Kook's thought (his philosophy
or metaphysics) and his practical ideology must be addressed as a whole. The
analysis in and of itself also has explanatory power, and allows for a
classification of his different statements. It seems that Rav Kook does explain
himself from the theoretical point of view. In other words, even if he does not
specifically address the gap that exists between a certain educational program
or halakhic ruling and his moral, spiritual positions, I believe that he does
explain quite thoroughly the relations between theory as such, and practice,
along with every practical position.
The issue that should be viewed as the gateway to understanding all of
these questions is the "kodesh." Rav Kook's discussion of the concept of
holiness includes the theoretical program with which and from within which we
may also address the problems that we have raised.[22]
(To be
continued)
Translated by Kaeren Fish
[1]
See Orot Ha-kodesh III, 317-329;
concerning the sense of foreignness see ibid. 267-274.
[2] See Orot Ha-kodesh III, 179-180; ibid. 270-271
[3] See, for example, the article on political parties "Ma'amar Ha-miflagot" in Orot, as well as Orot 68, and elsewhere.
[4] For example, Orot Ha-kodesh IV, 498; II, 395; see also below.
[5]
See Iggerot I, 41 onwards.
[6]
See Menachem Friedman, Chevra ve-Dat
(Yad Ben Zvi: Jerusalem, 5738). Friedman's other works likewise provide
important background to our subject. Chevra ve-Dat deals with the molding
of charedi society during Rav Kook's time, and is therefore of particular
relevance. Our review here is largely based on Friedman's studies and analysis
of processes.
[7]
Meir Prestman and Michael Chen,
Megamot 34:4, 563-581.
[8]
Yehuda Liebes, Mechkarei Yerushalayim
be-Machshevet Yisrael 3 (5742), 137-152.
[9]
See Albert Baumgarten, Ha-Kitatiyut bi-Yemei
Bayit Sheni (Jerusalem, 2001), esp. chapters 2-6, 10. Thorough analyses are
to be found in the works of Mary Douglas, "Atonement in Leviticus," J.S.K.R.
1 (1993-1994), 109-130. See further references in Baumgarten, p. 118.
[10]
As Baumbarten refers to this; see above,
n. 9.
[11]
Admittedly, at that time the range of
possibilities open to him was very limited.
[12]
See "Ma'amar Ha-miflagot," Orot.
[13]
As attested by R. Neria. It should be
noted that other gedolim from Eastern Europe and in Israel were also not
in favor of the idea; see, for example, the letter by R. Chaim Ozer, published
in R. Neria's collection, and the sources he cites there.
[14]
Admittedly, the phenomenon of settlement
in Judea and Samaria does also reflect some elements of an isolationist
ideology, if other factors are also taken into account. We shall discuss this
further in the final shiur of this series. See also the article in
Megamot.
[15]
For more on this point, see the analysis
of the concept of the enclave in general in Emmanuel Sivan, "Tarbut
Ha-muvla'at," Alpayim 4 (5752): 45-98.
[16]
See the letter of Shlomo Zalman Pines at
the end of Part III of Rav Kook's Letters, in the Appendices, where he warns Rav
Kook that German Jewish Orthodoxy was going to establish schools according to
its vision (Torah with Derekh Eretz), and that he assumes that Rav Kook
agrees that the soul (of the school) should remain as in the Talmudei Torah
and yeshivot in Eastern Europe, with only the "body" being western in its
structure.
[17]
See the interview with R. Moshe Tzvi
Neria cited by Yoske Achituv in his article in De'ot, Journal of
Ne'emanei Torah Va-Avoda 2-3 (5758-5759).
[18]
I borrow the term "thick boundaries" from
academic research on personality types. What it means is the prevention of any
trickling of "otherness" from the outside into the personality. A "thin
boundary" maintains personal identity while allowing the passage inward of
ideas, possibilities, etc. See: Ha-acher Ba-chevra U-vetochenu, Menachem
Ben Sasson and Chayim Deutch (eds.) (Jerusalem, 2002), especially the article by
Prof. Shmuel Ehrlich, which serves as the book's introduction.
[19]
For further reading concerning the
ideological and social processes characterizing Religious Zionism, and
especially the followers of Rav Kook, including on issues relating to this
article, readers are directed to the following works by Dov Schwartz: Emuna
Al Parashat Derakhim (Am Oved, 5756); Etgar u-Mashber be-Chug ha-Rav Kook
(Sifriyat Ofakim, 5761); Ha-tzionut ha-Datit Bein Higayon li-Meshichiyut
(Sifriyat Ofakim, 1999), up to p. 137.
[20]
Natan Rottenstreich, Iyyunim be-Machshava
ha-Yehudit ba-Zman ha-Zeh (Jerusalem 1978); Eliezer Schweid, Chashiva
me-Chadash (Jerusalem, 1991), the chapter on Rav Kook; Schweid, Nevi'im
le-Amam u-le-Enoshut (Jerusalem, 1991), the chapter on Rav Kook. These are
just a few examples.
[21]
Avinoam Rosenak, "Ha-Halakha
ha-Nevu'it ve-ha-Metzi'ut bi-Pesikato shel ha-Rav Kook," Tarbitz 69:4
(5760), 591-618; Rosenak, "Halakha, Aggada u-Nevu'ah be-Eretz Yisrael le-Or
Torat Achdut ha-Hafachim shel ha-Rav Kook," Me'ah Shenot Tzionut Datit
1 (5763), 261-285; Rosenak, "Chinukh u-Meta-Halakha be-Mishnat ha-Rav Kook,"
Da'at 46 (5761), 99-123. Rosenak proposes that this phenomenon in the
realm of Halakha be explained through the principle of "achdut ha-hafachim"
(unity of opposites) that is, that opposite poles are perceived simultaneously
as being true and as finding expression; Halakha is one such pole. I shall not
elaborate here, since this is not the central thesis of the present article. See
also Michael Tzvi Nehorai, "He'arot le-Darko shel ha- Rav Kook bi-Pesika,"
Tarbitz 59:3-4 (5750), 481-505; Chaggai Ben-Artzi, "Darko shel ha-Rav
Kook ke-Idiolog u-ke-Posek Halakha," in Masa El ha-Halakha (2003),
177-195.
[22]
Tzvi Yaron, in his book Mishnato
ha-Iyynit shel ha-Rav Kook (Jerusalem, 5734), 131-166, discusses the problem
of asceticism and socialization, but does not develop the idea in the same
direction that we have taken here.
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