by Dror Eydar
Hat tip: Dr. Shmuel Gazit
As a nation, we have always loved arguing with one another. Even in the book of Genesis, Abraham argued with God, and he was not the only one to question authority. How can anyone say that our modern disagreements are a "threat to democracy"?
Jacob wrestling with the angel, by Gustave Dore
Every
time the public discourse heats up and the opposing sides start making
accusations, whatever the issue, the self-appointed wise men always crop
up, say the problem is reminiscent of "dark times in Europe," and go on
and on about the issue being a "threat to democracy" and "incitement."
The truth is that anyone familiar with the
Hovevei Zion movement (established in response to the anti-Jewish
pogroms in the Russian Empire) and the First Aliyah and Second Aliyah –
well before World War I – can easily cite heated disagreements between
rival factions that were just as bitter, if not more so, than today's.
Since when does disagreement among Jews mean a threat to democracy?
There is a lot to be learned from a
nation's culture of debate and disagreement. Just look at a people's
canonic stories – the stories that are told year after year and
reverberate, in different iterations, in the art of every generation. It
is lazy to judge a nation solely on the declarations of a certain
moment. It is best to delve deep into a nation's symbols and characters,
its poems and stories, its entire identity – its full historical
personality. This is not too different from a psychological review of an
individual – in order to truly understand someone, one must delve deep
into the person's biography as well as their subconscious.
Israel recently celebrated Hebrew Book
Week. Countless texts are written and sold, but here and there, I also
heard references to The Book – the one that gave the Jews the name
"People of the Book": the Bible. The Bible is a cultural and spiritual
power station that has fueled all types of Hebrew writing since its
inception, like a nuclear power plant that lights up millions of homes.
We often throw the term "thousands of
years" around without meaning. But in this instance, it has actually
been for thousands of years that we have been telling ourselves these
ancient stories. I'm not talking only about the legal lessons or the
customs and lifestyle choices that we have derived from this book, or
the trove of treasured texts that have come out of it – more than any
other nation – I am talking about the stories themselves. Those who tell
them and retell them time after time infuse them into their bloodstream
and pass them on to their offspring.
So what kind of culture of debate can we find in these ancient stories? Totalitarian? The 1930s in Europe?
Just last week, we read for the millionth
time the weekly portion that tells the story of Korach and his faction
and their failed attempt to overthrow Moses and call the leadership of
Moses' brother Aaron into question. The story has been studied and
interpreted ad nauseam, and just like every other well-known story, it
has been read through to its tragic end. It is important to stop for a
moment at the beginning of the story, and note that the Bible is telling
us that even Moses – the ultimate leader, legislator, prophet and a
host of other lofty titles – did not enjoy a consensus of support among
his people.
"Why then do you set yourselves above the
Lord's assembly?" Korach accuses Moses and Aaron (Numbers 16:3). The
repetition of the story is not meant only to demonstrate the damage that
can be caused by a dispute that is not purely for the sake of honoring
God, as our sages would say. It posits the dispute itself within our
culture as an ongoing event. We are a people who love to debate with one
another, and we have been since the dawn of our existence.
The first king, Saul, was anointed king by
the prophet Samuel in the name of God. "Has not the Lord anointed you
ruler over his inheritance?" (1 Samuel 10:1).
But that was not enough. Samuel gathered
the people to Gilgal and held a ceremony where a tribe was selected by
lottery, then a clan, then a family, and only then was Saul selected to
be king. Even then, not everyone accepted King Saul's authority. He had
to prove himself in security and defense before he was seen as a
legitimate leader.
Unlike the kings of Europe, for example,
the kings of Judea and Israel were never absolute rulers. Despite the
pomp and circumstance, the kings of Israel were citizens, nothing more.
Their political decisions were always open for debate.
The fact that arguing with kings of flesh
and blood was encouraged is dwarfed by one of the most fantastic stories
ever told, found in our nation's oldest text: the book of Genesis. In
this book, our nation's father, Abraham, argues with God himself over
the decision to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. And he doesn't just argue,
he admonishes God: "And Abraham drew near, and said: 'Wilt Thou indeed
sweep away the righteous with the wicked?" (Genesis 18:23) and "Shall
not the judge of all the earth do justly?" (Genesis 18:25). Abraham
reprimands God.
By every benchmark, this is an incredible
story: A mere man questions the divine wisdom of God's decision and
makes moral demands in an effort to sway God's decree.
The prophet Jeremiah also invites God to a
debate: "Lord, You always give me justice when I bring a case before
You. So let me bring You this complaint: Why are the wicked so
prosperous? Why are evil people so happy?" (Jeremiah 18:1).
And he is not the last to do this. If we
view God as susceptible to disagreement, leaders of flesh and blood are
surely vulnerable too. From this, we derive the notion that leadership
is not absolute and is always open for debate. Our leaders are always at
risk of having their decisions questioned.
Compare this outlook with the perception of
Allah among Muslims. In Islam, there is no scenario where one disputes
Allah or argues with him. God has absolute authority, and holds absolute
sway over his creations. Islam means absolute submission to Allah. In
accordance with this outlook, a Muslim father has absolute authority
over his wife and children. In Muslim tribal culture, the leader is an
absolute ruler, or at least appears so in the eyes of his subjects.
I often think about the name Israel, which
was given to Jacob when he wrestled with the angel in the book of
Genesis – an amalgamation of the Hebrew words for wrestle and God: "Then
the man said, 'Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because
you have struggled with God and with men, and you have prevailed'"
(Genesis 32:29). So Jacob wrestled with the angel that night, and with
Laban (the father of his wives) earlier, and prevailed. But names,
particularly in the Bible, have a special meaning that extends beyond a
specific event. It is a reflection of a person's true self. A label he
carries forever.
We have been called Israel ever since. That
is our business card. And what does it say about us? It represents our
constant contention with God, our questioning of His authority, His
word, His ideas. It is as if the Bible attests, at the very beginning of
our existence as a people, that we would never accept authority as a
given. We would always question it and argue, not only with men but also
with God. And a people that argues with God would never submit to
totalitarian rule by a man.
So even if it wasn't called "democracy"
when we became a people, the democratic culture has always been an
inseparable part of our identity and our history as a society and as a
nation.
We inherited this culture of debate from
our forefathers, and we advanced it. Open any page in the Talmud and we
can see this. If the original text had been seen as religiously
absolute, we would have accepted it as indisputable. But the Talmud is
the polar opposite of that sort of perception. In it, every assumption
is questioned and almost every opinion that is presented is met with a
counter-argument. And even if the text itself didn't include an
argument, it was certainly the basis for argument in the generations
that followed.
The examples above are just the tip of the
iceberg in an overwhelming cultural phenomenon. Keep them in mind when
you hear the various doomsday prophets warning us of the destructive
"processes" and comparing us to the worst of nations. Maybe they are not
aware of the examples in this column, but it is also possible that they
do not actually care about democracy and just want to silence the
public discussion on a certain issue.
As we can see, however, the discussion has never been silenced.
Source: http://www.israelhayom.com/2018/06/22/what-threat-to-democracy/
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