26 August 2013

Quick note

Not too much substance to this post, just some questions. As I noted in my first post, my intention in starting this blog was to keep in touch with my friends and family around the world during my time in Israel. I don't think that my views on various topics are so profound that it is important for me to put out my opinions for public consumption, so a monologue entirely misses the objective. Obviously, you needn't force yourselves to comment if you don't have much to say about a topic, but I would appreciate some feedback. What would make it easier for you to participate in dialogue? Should I write shorter posts on narrower topics? Would another medium be preferable? Should I be asking specific questions instead of making statements and asking for responses generally? Would other topics be more interesting?

So as not to be entirely preachy and boring, I'll throw in some more details about life here.
I have just been reassigned to the third gemara level, starting tomorrow morning. At this rate, I will be at the highest level offered well before chanukah, although I expect that things will slow down.
The bein hazmanim breaks are of extremely variable length. When I came to visit last summer, a zman was just ending, which meant there would be no classes Sunday and only a half day on Monday. By contrast, after this Elul zman, we have off from Yom Kippur until Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan -- about three weeks. Hopefully, that will be a good time to track down the distant family that I would like to meet.
Shabbat is somewhat confusing, emotionally. As far as I can tell, it doesn't seem noticeably more spiritual than a good shabbat at home, but the crash afterward is much worse. I often get moody and withdrawn in the aftermath of shabbat or yom tov, but twice in a row now, around eleven o'clock motzei shabbat, I have had a sense of isolation, particularly from God, that is almost physically painful and too strong to allow concentration on study. I suppose I should use this for teshuva, but I don't really know how. I suppose two does not quite a pattern make, and I didn't notice it so much the first week here.
This week, shabbat was hosted by the rabbi of the highest gemara shiur, a Brisker who had a fun question and answer session where he seemed to enjoy doing his best to shock any liberal sensibilities in the group. Asserting, for instance, that dina d'malkhutah dina does not apply in Israel, and that we should minimize friendship with girls because they interfere with spiritual growth, and implying that all non-gemara classes should be canceled to make time for more gemara. Even he was stymied, however, when one enterprising bochur asked, "What do we talk to our wives about? Sure, I can see fifteen minutes or so, but then what? We can hardly learn gemara with them!"
We just had our first joint event with Midreshet Rachel; unsurprisingly, it was an engagement party. And there was a mechitza across the entire room all night.

Shalom,
-Ethan

23 August 2013

Women in Judaism

As previously mentioned, I will do my best to tackle the titular topic. I'm going to stay away from issues of tum'ah and taharah, because I am almost entirely ignorant with regard to such matters; I apologize to those who find them to be essential to the matter. Hopefully there will still be enough material to respond to.

Men and women are different. Physically, this is uncontroversially true. Emotionally, there is more debate and the extent is not clear, but statistically significant differences have been consistently observed from infancy onward. Intellectually, there is even more controversy. Generally, one of my main hashkafic tools has been to try to learn by analogy from what is clear to what is less so, and so I am comfortable with the idea that there are differences at every level. That is not to say that one is superior to the other; indeed, I strongly reject such a position. However, each has particular strengths and weaknesses that compliment each other and it is thus reasonable to have different roles and expectations for each. I will argue that the traditional roles in Judaism are, when properly implemented, of equal value, power, and dignity.

As a general framework for the relation between the two roles, again I turn to analogy from what is obvious to what is not. The clearest instance of complementary roles that creatively achieve what neither could alone is conception and childbirth. From this we learn that men's roles naturally tend toward potential and women's toward actualization. 

How does this play out? Men have a greater role in the halakhic process -- formulating, interpreting, and transmitting the laws that govern every aspect of life. Women, as far as I can tell, are traditionally seen as having a greater role in determining how and to what extent those laws are put into practice. There is a mushal about a righteous couple who had no children and decided to divorce and try their luck with new partners, so that at least one of them could enjoy children. The woman married a wicked man, and the man became righteous. The man married a wicked woman, and he became wicked. Along similar lines, the redemption from Egypt is attributed to the virtue of the women, who thus preserved the people, while the sins that led to the destruction of the first Beit Hamikdash are attributed to the luxury and frivolity of the women. The women's power in determining the spiritual environment of the home is also generally given as the basis for Judaism being passed on matrilineally, which gives them as much responsibility and agency as men in transmission, or rather more so. If men fail at their task, and the halakhic mesorah is lost, while women instill a proper spiritual and moral grounding, then we end up with a bunch of decent people who are not religious Jews. If men succeed, and women fail, we end up with a bunch of people with poor character who ignore this pristine tradition and aren't religious Jews anyway. There are innumerable passages in the rabbinic literature that plainly acknowledge that behind every great man, there is a great woman. The biblical narrative is replete with strong female role models.

On to current events:

Women as rabbis: The rabbinic role is multifaceted. As far as the role as judge is concerned, it is halakhically problematic for women. I think that that can be justified by the reasoning in the previous section; if women were given that formal, public power in the area of potential in addition to their informal, private in the area of actualization, society would become unbalanced. If that were countered by somehow granting men greater control in those areas, we would lose the benefits of complementarity. As far as the roles of pastor and teacher are concerned, women are filling them and have filled them since time immemorial. There are many observant women who are deeply learned and strong supports for their community, and that contribution is incredibly important and valuable. The professionalization of these roles among men is a surprisingly recent development, and while it may have been a necessary response to changing circumstances, I think that there has been a lot of loss as a result. There is great value in preserving what we can of a face-to-face society, where trust and respect are based on personal knowledge, reputation, and relationships rather than degrees and paid positions. Having already made such concessions to the forces of impersonal modernity for men, is it also necessary to do so for women? I don't know the answer. There are definitely reasons to do so, but I worry for what will be lost as a result.

Tzniut and the article in the New Republic: Tzniut is obligatory on both men and women, although the forms that it takes are different. Although it is often talked about in highly sexualized terms, weak men's uncontrollable lusts and all that, my understanding of it is that sexuality is only a small part of it. Rather, it teaches mindfulness of the fact that one's clothing and general demeanor form an expressive language in themselves. Just as we should be careful not to curse or scream or insult verbally, so we should be somewhat genteel in our dress and bearing. We should try to avoid extremes of gaudiness and conspicuous consumption, poor hygiene and maintenance, sexualization and objectification, cultural insensitivity, etc etc. What exactly that entails is socially contingent to a large degree, and things that seem insignificant to an outsider can convey a strong message in one group's "language". Verbally and physically attacking women is inexcusable and contrary to Jewish law, custom, and values. I know of no serious rabbinic opinion that would allow it, even in the Haredi world. True, public condemnation is lacking, but there are a number of possible explanations for that. Perhaps the rabbis worry that the behavior would continue regardless, and their authority would be undermined. Perhaps they don't want to expose internal communal conflict to wider scrutiny. Perhaps they simply do not care what people outside their community think of them, and thus see no reason to make an effort to mitigate the chillul Hashem. Perhaps they feel that making common cause with secular people, or even seeming to, would do harm to their community. I don't know.

Finally, no discussion of women in Judaism would be complete without reference to eshet chayil, the culmination of sefer mishlei read every week at Shabbat dinner: 
An accomplished woman, who can find? Her value is far beyond pearls.
Her husband's heart relies on her and he shall lack no fortune.
She does him good and not evil, all the days of her life.
She seeks wool and flax, and works with her hands willingly.
She is like the merchant ships, she brings her bread from afar.
She arises while it is still night, and gives food to her household and a portion to her maidservants.
She plans for a field, and buys it. With the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
She girds her loins in strength, and makes her arms strong.
She knows that her merchandise is good. Her candle does not go out at night.
She sets her hands to the distaff, and holds the spindle in her hands.
She extends her hands to the poor, and reaches out her hand to the needy.
She fears not for her household because of snow, because her whole household is warmly dressed.
She makes covers for herself, her clothing is fine linen and purple.
Her husband is known at the gates, when he sits among the elders of the land.
She makes a cloak and sells it, and she delivers aprons to the merchant.
Strength and honor are her clothing, she smiles at the future.
She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the lesson of kindness is on her tongue.
She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise and praise her, her husband lauds her.
Many women have done worthily, but you surpass them all.
Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears God shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.
This describes the ideal woman. It sounds like a lot of work, mostly in service to others. Then again, the ideal Jewish man also works hard, mostly in service to others. She is smart, resourceful, learned, eloquent, active, charitable, skillfully engaged in commerce and industry, and deeply appreciated by her family. The traditional women's sphere is not narrow and stifling, nor is it passive and unimportant. We ask women to be equal partners with men, not by doing what men do, but by complementing their contributions. To the extent that there is a sense of inequality or an undervaluation of the role of women, I think much of the blame should go to the excessive emphasis on shul, which falls more into the men's domain, at the expense of understanding Judaism as a comprehensive way of life. This mental restriction of religion to communal prayer services has numerous other perfidious effects.

That basically sums up my understanding and opinions on the subject. Hopefully I have not horribly misrepresented the traditional stance. Of course, it may be lovely in theory, but is it put into practice? Not always, and we always work to improve in many ways. Judaism is a challenging and difficult path. Still, there is a reason that Jewish families are stereo-typically matriarchal. Even where men are given the legal authority, they are strongly encouraged to defer to their wives on a wide range of matters, from Abraham regarding Hagar and Yishmael until the present day.

Shabbat Shalom!
-Ethan

19 August 2013

Commenting problems

I understand that there has been some difficulty commenting. I changed the settings to allow anonymous comments; maybe that will work better for those who had trouble. Do any of my more technically literate friends have further advice for those whose comments were sadly eaten by the digital abyss?

If problems persist, feel free to email me a copy of the comment, and I will post it in your name.

15 August 2013

Arab Israeli conflict

After a close and exciting race, the voting has come down to a tie, so I give priority to the first vote. Perhaps women in Judaism comes next, unless another topic gets two votes before that time.

But first, a few notes on life in yeshiva after a full week. First of all, it is really hard to get used to transitioning straight from birkat cohanim to tachanun. Tefillin during birkat cohanim is also a little disorienting at first, but nothing like that sudden demand for total attitude realignment. Secondly, I may be "flipping out" a little bit. I decided to fast Mondays and Thursdays so I could skip meals and learn more. I don't think it is anything to worry about, my sense of self, moral intuition, and critical thinking don't seem to be in any danger, but I'll keep an eye on it. Finally, the community feels just a little... incomplete, I suppose; I attribute this to a confluence of three factors: 
-It is extremely transitory. This is an issue in college, where everyone is in and out in a few years. Kal v'chomer here, where six months makes you veritably an elder statesman. 
-There are no women. Some separation may be good, because men and women are different, but too much feels a bit off, because the differences are complementary. Hard to say exactly what the effect is, just a different timbre or flavor.
-The vast majority of the students are recent ba'alei teshuva. Again, hard to point out precise changes, but it feels different. I think that there is a certain self-consciousness to it, maybe unsettled identities or what-have-you. I don't know to what extent I give off this vibe, but I imagine that it fades quickly when immersed in a more organic community.
Now, these things are not necessarily bad, but it certainly takes some getting used to. Other than those few issues, I am having a great time. It is amazing to be removed from so many distractions and temptations that somehow manage to keep me from doing valuable things that I enjoy when I am at home. Even struggling through a mishna with a dictionary is really quite pleasurable. Davening is way more intense than I am used to. I lead today for the first time since coming here, at maariv. I was moved up to the next level for gemara, now learning under Rabbi Elie Silverburg. Much better fit.

Now, onto the main topic.
Full disclaimer, I am somewhat biased towards Israel's interest, which may have determined my feelings toward Gaza and the various rights of return involved. That said, I do value the well-fare of the Palestinians, and I think that in most cases our interests align. 
I am against a two state solution. I do not think that it is a viable path to lasting peace, when both sides are deeply committed to the entire land. Suppose an agreement were reached. We would then almost certainly see a flow of weapons and Palestinians from the diaspora into the West Bank. Given that a significant portion of the populace would not support the agreement, and still see Israel as occupying the rest of the country, some sort of violence is likely. 
Then there are two possibilities: either the government there will support the agreement, or it will not. If the PA retains control, and continues to support peace, then this is basically a similar situation to the current one, except Israel has greater threats from the West Bank and less freedom or position to act on them. Israel thus remains stuck in its moral quandary of involvement, quickly loses its initial windfall of international good will as the inevitable messiness results, and its security is dramatically worse. One might say that the Israelis could just ignore being attacked and wait for the PA to deal with it. I don't think that that is likely. The Palestinians don't get the full dignity of independence, because their sovereignty is regularly violated by Israel, and their economic benefits are severely limited. Not seeing much benefit from the agreement, and still desiring control of the territory left to the other side, popular support for the agreement is likely to decline on both sides, creating a vicious cycle that intensifies the problem. If the PA loses control or repudiates the peace agreement, then the West Bank becomes Gaza writ large. Then there are two possibilities: either Israel reoccupies or it does not. If it does, then at great cost it has managed to undo every potential benefit from peace and be left worse off than before. If it does not, and treats it as it has treated Gaza since Hamas took over, then its security position becomes almost entirely untenable. The Palestinians would, presumably, not fare very well in this scenario either. 
Stable peace thus relies on supermajority popular support and a strong PA, even after a large influx from the camps, who are generally more radical and would have legitimate grounds to reject an agreement that they had no representation in (or do we suppose that the refugees would be denied right of return even to the Palestinian state?). Given popular sentiment in Egypt and Jordan after years of peace, it seems too optimistic to suppose that even two generations would suffice to normalize the peace in the public imagination, so we would need the strength of the PA to continue stably for at least that long. The probability seems vanishingly small.
Some have argued for foreign guarantees of security as a solution to these problems. I think that this would be disastrous. There is a significant possibility that the guarantors would back out, leaving Israel in the lurch, but even if they did not, a western occupying force would give credence to claims that Israel is a colonial state imposing western power on the autochthonous people, rather than another group of indigenes pressing a just claim to their own land. Thus Israel surrenders its moral claim to existence for transient material support.
Further, even if a two state solution had long term viability, I would be hesitant, as a Jew, to support the renunciation of the region that formed the core of biblical Israel and contains many of our holiest sites.
Now, the status quo is also unacceptable. It is unjust and denies the legitimate demands of the Palestinians. It leaves Israel isolated and in a state of constant war, with attendant moral and security risks to society as a whole.

Therefore, I support annexation of the West Bank. I have seen a number of pundits suggest that the PA threaten to dissolve itself if negotiations fail this time, as a trump card to put pressure on Israel. I wish they would; that would give this plan all sorts of legitimacy. Still, it is unlikely. The leadership is too corrupt to even consider it. Even so, I think unilateral annexation is better than nothing. This would provide both Jews and Arabs with full access to the entire land and full dignity of equal citizenship. For those who are concerned with the security implications for Israel, consider that of all the Arabs in the Middle East, those who are least hostile to Israel are those who live there, or so I have heard. Given a stake in the state, they have less interest in getting rid of it. Without Gaza or refugees, there would be at least a generation for things to settle before an Arab majority becomes a possibility, and even then it is far from certain. Recent trends have shown a steep decline in Palestinian fertility and steady rise in Jewish fertility, even among the secular. Would the name of the state, the flag, the national anthem, and other symbols need to change? I don't think that it is entirely necessary. National symbols are fairly synthetic, and I understand that current non-Jewish residents of Israel largely identify with the current set. My brother spent some time in an immigrant neighborhood in Tel Aviv, and his description of the extent to which they identified with originally Jewish symbols was surprising. The chief rabbinate already has Muslim and Christian counterparts. I think that the army should retain its current policy of accepting Arab volunteers but not drafting them. There are other integration issues that would need to be addressed, but I don't think that any is insurmountable.
This plan does leave Gaza as an independent city state; not much change there, but it may be easier to isolate the problem without a broader conflict. It also does not in itself address the plight of the refugees. They need to be resettled elsewhere, as they should have been long ago. There are many other countries that have claimed to be interested in Arab-Israeli peace and the well-being of the refugees. Let some of them be part of the solution. Reasonable compensation should be on the table, especially if those countries whose Jews were driven out are willing to compensate for the property lost at that time. Reminds me of that story where the Egyptians sued the Jews for the borrowed wealth that was never returned, and were granted their case on condition that they pay backwages for centuries of slavery. 
This plan also leads to a chance that the Jewish right of return may not be open forever. It would be hard to justify allowing it for Jews and not for Arabs and still claim full equality and dignity. That is a hard price to accept, but I think that peace is worth it and this is the best chance at peace. As long as immigration is still possible for those who are committed enough to accept a normal naturalization process. 

That's where I stand, for now. Questions or comments? 

Shalom,
-Ethan

09 August 2013

I am in Israel...

...even if I have barely been outside to see it.
Chodesh tov! I hope you all had a lovely start to Elul. I am now settled, my jet-lag largely past, albeit at the cost of maariv last night. There is a good group of guys here, although I have not been struck by any strong desire to be friends with anyone in particular. However, such feelings have had only modest correlation with actual friendships formed in the past, so I don't make much of it. I was placed into the lowest level, but classes are enjoyable even so. I do need the vocabulary. Still, I have hope of swift advancement.
My classes:
Gemara with Rabbi Eliezer Kwass, a mild-mannered YU/Har Etzion alumnus. Starting with the third perek in Rosh Hashanah, talking about sanctification of the new moons. As one would expect at this level, it goes slowly. We have barely finished translating the first mishna, with very little discussion of the questions that it raises. 
Mishna and Hashkafa with Rabbi Aryeh Goldshmiedt, a sectless Chassid (I had no idea there was such a thing). He so far seems willing to allow me to derail the class, so we may not get to the mishna much. We have been discussing Rav Kook's views on teshuva. Also had a nice debate over the following question: when we say that we are motivated to observe mitzvot because God tells us to, is the relationship more comparable to that between spouses or that between student and teacher?
Hebrew with Rabbi Abraham Fischer. Looks good, as it should be. Language skills definitely feel like my most pressing concern right now.
Halakha with Rabbi Yitzchak Lerner, a gregarious fellow who takes a brass tacks approach to Judaism. One interesting tid-bit: the Mishna Brurah forbids cutting one's nails in order. 
Once a week shiur with Rosh HaYeshiva, Rabbi Yitzchak Hirshfeld. Very interesting. Took a Rambam that seemed to flat out contradict a mishna, and almost but didn't quite resolve it through a later rishon. Also on the third perek of Rosh Hashanah.

Anyway, I need to wake up absurdly early for Shacharit, so I am off to bed. For my next post, a vote:
I can expand on any of those topics, if the short version piqued some interest.
I can do something similar to this, see if new topics of greater interest come up in the next few days.
I can write up my family history, to the best of my knowledge.
In honor of the new talks, I can give over my views on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
I am also open to suggestions.
So, what do the people want to see?

Shabbat Shalom,
-Ethan

05 August 2013

Leaving tomorrow

Good day,

As some of you may know, I am to spend the next year studying at Yeshivat Darchei Noam in Beit HaKerem, Jerusalem, Israel. As such, I am starting this blog with intent to update once or twice a week and thereby remain connected to you, dear reader. As monologue-ing into the digital aether doe not suit that purpose, please leave comments here or email me at ethan.cohen1618@gmail.com, according to your inclination. If you prefer a more traditional medium, I assume that any mail you send to the yeshiva with my name on it will find its way to me. Their address is 5 Beit Hakerem St, Jerusalem 96343 or at P.O.Box 3151, Jerusalem 96343.

I know that was all very bland and utilitarian. Don't give up! Future posts should have more content.

Until I write again,
Shalom,
-Ethan Cohen