Every evening during a break in the 8:00 news, the army radio station (Galai Tzahal) usually devotes a minute to exploring an “Israeli” concept. However, most of the concepts, such as who was the Gaon of Vilna, are not Israeli but part of Jewish religious history. I would imagine that for most of the listeners there is no contradiction, while I am always surprised that no civil rights organization has brought the issue—the total identification of Jewish with Israel on an Army radio station (and one of the most listened to stations in Israel)—to the Israeli Supreme Court.
When did this confusion begin? At one time, the Army elite (of which Galai Tzahal was a part), which was secular, would not have permitted this mix-up of religious and national values. Religion and religious history belonged to the Chief Rabbi in the Army and it was given its due in kosher kitchens and observance of Shabbat in the army. But that all seems long ago—and my constant surprise and even indignation at the army’s implicit support of equating Israeli with Jewish probably just indicates my age and which Israeli Jewish sector to which I belong.
It should be noted—as an aside—that not only Jews serve in the Army. The Druze are loyal members of the services, and an increasing number of Arabs are joining because of the financial benefits that service offers (better mortgage rates, for example).
When I first came to
When I came to Israel, it was accepted Zionist history that the institutions of the State of Israel were established by the second and third aliyot—the second built the kibbutzim, the unions, the workers’ Bank (Bank Hapoalim—today the richest bank in Israel!), and the third, the moshavim, while continuing to expand the infrastructure the second had built. There was a great deal of truth to this, but the history ignored large sections of the population, which also existed in these periods and continued to expand afterward. The leading members of these two aliyot were often socialist and anti-religion. The Jew in their eyes was a national and not a religious designation; and during a period of the 20’s and 30’s, they called themselves, “Hebrews,” like Hebrews returning to their land.
Nurit’s grandfather Itzhak was, perhaps, typical of the Third Aliyah. He was raised a Gur (Ger in Yiddish) Hassid, but at the age of 13, realizing that he did not believe in the revelation on Mt. Sinai, he abandoned religion for socialism and pioneering. It may be hard for us to understand this conversion because as Western Jews, our sense of being Jewish is utterly different from his. He was not Polish and Jewish, nor was he knowledgeable about non-Jewish culture. To a great extent, it did not exist for him. Once he rejected
The members of the second and third aliyot might not have understood the question, what is Jewish? since it was so obvious, so intrinsic to their own self-definition. They freely used religious symbols (the color of the flag is taken from the prayer-shawl for example) and religious language (you “redeemed” the land when you made it part of the Zionist enterprise) without any religious intentions. The kibbutz and moshav movements were the only institutions that deliberately tried to offer coherent secular interpretations of Jewish holidays; that is, to be consistent throughout when throwing out religion as an unnecessary part of Jewish identity. But, in general, secular Zionism eviscerated Jewish history and its symbols of their religious references and only left the national. It was like cutting the Jewish tradition—“Shma Yisrael,” Moses’ pronouncement on descending
After the creation of
Nostalgia has no explicit content. Nostalgia can be sentimental, populist, and, as it often rises when little substance joins people together, it becomes a nebulous, unaccountable, not subject to criticism bond. Nostalgia in
After the Six Days War, the number of religious Jews also grew—both those Jews who were drawn to the “redeeming” of ancient Israel and the promise of Messianic redemption and the natural exponential growth of the ultra-religious, the haredim. With the increasing prosperity of the country, more American (and French) religious Jews came because one could live comfortable, American lives in a religious context without feeling like a minority. The country that was famous for demanding sacrifices no longer sustained that image.
In addition, the 70’s introduced the Russian immigration, which came in several waves. The first wave, which ended around 1980, included idealistic Russians who saw themselves as integrating within Israeli society. Afterward, came the majority of the Russians (many hardly Jewish), who jumped on economic opportunity and often disdained Israeli culture (Middle-Eastern) and despised Arabs. The Russians had no experience with democracy and little understanding and occasionally little tolerance for it—and certainly no respect for a truly pluralistic society, where each ethnic group is equal. They were like their ultra-orthodox counterparts—bigoted, racist, with no respect for the history of Israel/Palestine and with few democratic restraints in their political attitudes.[1]
So today, Israel has a large Jewish population with little investment or understanding of democracy and sleight knowledge of the country’s democratic-socialist past. In addition, the Likud is traditionally anti-Arab; in its political campaigns often vulgarly so. Moreover, for a large number of Orthodox, Russians, and Likudniks, Arab claims to equality as Israeli citizens is a privilege that the Jewish majority has the right to deny. For the Orthodox, the right of Jews to this land is unambiguous; they don’t argue with their God. The Left, those who wished for peace and integration within the Middle East, were successfully quieted by the Second Intifada, which more than anything destroyed their prospects in Israel, which threatens to descend into a more and more polarized and less and less democratic country.
