Hazzan Dr. Matthew Austerklein is the Cantor of Congregation Anshai Torah in Plano, Texas. A 2011 graduate of the H.L Miller Cantorial School, he recently defended his doctoral dissertation in Jewish Studies (magna cum laude) at Halle-Wittenberg University, entitled “The Professionalization of the Ashkenazic Cantor in East-Central Europe, 1500-1750.” Hazzan Dr. Austerklein has served on the faculty for several cantorial programs and has lectured on Jewish music for over forty synagogues, universities, seminaries, and Jewish institutions. He writes weekly at Beyond the Music (mattausterklein.substack.com), where he has published over 150 essays on Jewish music, arts, and culture.

Tom Baker is the Henry R. Silverman Professor of Law at the University of Pennsylvania Carey Law School. He is also the former president of the Lower Merion Synagogue, the largest Orthodox congregation in Pennsylvania.

Lynda Barness is CEO, LB Literary Projects, with varying roles of author, editor, researcher, and project manager. She and Rabbi Lance Sussman have been writing partners since 2022.

Yisroel Benporat, PhD serves as the Senior Associate for Faculty Engagement in New York at the Academic Engagement Network.

Jessica S. Cooperman, PhD is Doris and Simon Konover Chair in Judaic Studies and Director of the Center for Judaic Studies and Contemporary Jewish Life at the University of Connecticut.

Elliot Dorff, PhD serves as the rector and Sol and Anne Dorff Distinguished Service Professor of Philosophy at American Jewish University. His most recent book is Ethics at the Center: Jewish Theory and Practice for Living a Moral Life (Jewish Publication Society/University of Nebraska Press, 2024).

Zev Eleff, PhD is president of Gratz College and professor of American Jewish history. He is the author or editor of 15 books in the field of American Judaism.

Adam S. Ferziger, PhD is Professor in the Israel & Golda Koschitzky Department of Jewish History & Contemporary Jewry and Rabbi S.R. Hirsch Chair for Research of the Torah with Derekh Erez Movement at Bar-Ilan University. His book, Beyond Sectarianism: The Realignment of American Orthodox Judaism (Wayne State University Press, 2015), received a National Jewish Book Award. His most recent monograph, Agents of Change: American Jews and the Transformation of Israeli Judaism (New York University Press, 2025), was chosen by the Association for Israel Studies (AIS) as co-winner of the Shapiro Prize for Best Book in Israel Studies.

Jeffrey S. Gurock, PhD is the Libby M. Klaperman Professor of Jewish History at Yeshiva University.

Rabbi Nicole Guzik, AMFT, is Co-Senior Rabbi, Sinai Temple, Los Angeles, California.

Michael Hoberman, PhD is Professor of English Studies at Fitchburg State University and an adjunct professor of history at Yeshiva University. His most recent book is Imagining Early American Jews (Oxford University Press, 2025). The John Muir Trail’s Jewish Founder: The Uplifted World of Theodore Solomons is to be published by the University of California Press.

Eli Lederhendler, PhD is Professor Emeritus and Stephen S. Wise Chair in American Jewish History and Institutions in the Department of Jewish History and Contemporary Jewry at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.

Rabbi Juan Mejia was born in Bogota, Colombia to a Catholic family. After discovering the Jewish roots of his family and the beauty of Judaism, he converted to Judaism. He holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Philosophy from the Universidad Nacional de Colombia (2001) and a Master’s Degree in Jewish Culture from the Hebrew University (2004). Ordained by the Jewish Theological Seminary in 2009, Rabbi Mejia has been creating free web-based, accessible Jewish content in Spanish and reaching out to individuals and communities interested in living a Jewish life. His free, translated and transliterated siddurim (Kol Tuv Sefarad—Sephardi, Minchat Refael—Ashkenazi) are used in scores of synagogues and chavurot around the world (www.toraparatodos.com). His YouTube channel (@toraparatodos) reaches over 18,000 people across the Spanish-speaking world. He lives in Oklahoma City with his wife, Rabbi Abby Jacobson.

Deborah Dash Moore, PhD is the Jonathan Freedman Distinguished University Professor of History and Judaic Studies at the University of Michigan. She is Editor in Chief of the Posen Library of Jewish Culture and Civilization. Her most recent book is Walkers in the City: Jewish Street Photographers of Midcentury New York (Three Hills, an imprint of Cornell University Press, 2023).

Rabbi Joseph H. Prouser is the Editor-in-Chief of Masorti: The New Journal of Conservative Judaism.

Rabbi Jonah Rank is President & Rosh Yeshivah of Hebrew Seminary: A Rabbinical School for Deaf & Hearing.

Jonathan Rosenbaum, PhD is President Emeritus and Professor Emeritus of Jewish Studies, Gratz College; Associate, University of Pennsylvania, 2025-2027; and Associate Editor, Masorti: The New Journal of Conservative Judaism.

Jonathan D. Sarna, PhD is University Professor and Joseph H. & Belle R. Braun Professor of American Jewish History Emeritus at Brandeis University. He is also Chief Historian of the Weitzman National Museum of American Jewish History, Philadelphia, PA; Chair of the Academic Advisory & Editorial Board of the American Jewish Archives, Cincinnati, OH; and Past President of the Association for Jewish Studies.

Earl Schwartz is retired from the Hamline University religion department, where he also directed the social justice studies program. He is the author of Moral Development: A Practical Guide for Jewish Teachers (Alternatives in Religious Education, Inc., 1983) and Arc of the Covenant: Jewish Educational Success on the Upper Mississippi (Lexington Books, 2019), and co-author with Rabbi Barry Cytron of When Life is in the Balance (United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, 1986) and Who Renews Creation (United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, 1993).

Shuly Rubin Schwartz, PhD is Chancellor Emerita and Irving Lehrman Research Professor of American Jewish History at the Jewish Theological Seminary.

Rabbi Erez Sherman is the Senior Rabbi, Sinai Temple, Los Angeles, California. He directs the Flesh Family Sinai Temple Israel Center and founded the Sinai Temple Israel Center Rabbinical School Fellowship.

Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, PhD is Senior Rabbi Emeritus, Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel, Elkins Park, Pennsylvania, and the former chair of Judaic Studies, Binghamton University, State University of New York. Rabbi Sussman and Lynda Barness have been writing partners since 2022.

Rabbi Mike Uram became the ninth Chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary on July 1, 2026.

Jonah Rank

Democracy in the Spotlight at the 1943 Rabbinical Assembly Convention

At the Forty-Third Annual Convention of the Rabbinical Assembly (June 21–24, 1943), reverberations of the Holocaust and World War II all but quietly set a disconcerting tone for the 181 rabbis who had registered to attend this gathering at the Henry Hudson Hotel in New York City.¹ Some highlights of the gathering reflected a Rabbinical Assembly painted with an evergreen orientation toward growth, learning, and good will. At the opening session, a resolution authorized the Prayer Book Commission to prepare a Sabbath and Festival Prayer Book based on the work of Rabbi Dr. Morris Silverman (1894–1972).² Attendees were treated on the second day to a discussion by Rabbi Dr. Mordecai M. Kaplan on “How Man Comes to Know God;”³ on the third day, a “joint banquet” with Reform colleagues from the Central Conference of American Rabbis;⁴ and, on the last day, congratulations offered to Rabbi Dr. Louis Ginzberg on his 70th birthday.⁵

Yet the echoes of antisemitic atrocities across Europe and the Land of Israel rang through the convention. Rabbi Abraham M. Heller (ca. 1899–1975) delivered “a report on the Relief Fund,”⁶ an initiative not recorded in the minutes at either of the preceding years’ conventions. Likewise, Rabbi Eugene Kohn (1887–1977) reported on behalf “of the Palestine Committee,”⁷ a committee never named in the minutes of any prior Rabbinical Assembly convention. According to Rabbi Dr. Joshua Trachtenberg (1904–1959), “the delegates reaffirmed the right of the Jewish people to Palestine as its national home” and endorsed “safeguarding the personal and group rights of Arab citizens,” inhabiting a “Jewish commonwealth [that] would… become a member nation of [a] Federal Union… under the… United Nations.”⁸

The rumblings of war were, in fact, not wholly new. On June 29, 1942, when the Rabbinical Assembly had convened at the Jewish Theological Seminary,⁹ the Assembly’s President, Rabbi Leon Lang (ca. 1899–1956) affirmed in “The President’s Message” just how deeply World War II had transformed the Rabbinical Assembly, citing “[t]he outrageous infamy of Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor,” which “thrust the American people into a total war, for which they were only partially prepared,” in “an inevitable struggle for the survival of civilization.” Lang further recalled the Assembly’s response in having “formulated a special prayer for our country and for a speedy triumph of justice and truth, a prayer to be used at public worship in all our synagogues” and “in February, 1942… call[ing] an Extraordinary Conference of the entire Assembly to consider plans for expediting the procurement of Jewish Chaplains for our armed forces, from among our colleagues.” Toward this end, Lang reported that the Assembly’s

Social Justice Committee… prepared a very careful statement… dealing with peace and post-war aims… [that], together with similar declarations of the Federal Council of Churches, the Catholic Welfare Council and the Synagogue Council may well form… a united… voice of all religious groups of America.¹⁰

With the exception of that “very careful statement”¹¹ from the Social Justice Committee, the content of the 1942 convention mostly turned its attention away from the war efforts. Nonetheless, Lang employed his address to the assembled as a platform for elucidating the cosmic and theological urgency of this “total war,” calling it “a life and death struggle between irreconcilable systems of values touching the entire gamut of human experience and aspiration.” Invoking Deuteronomy 17:7’s call for removing evil, Lang framed the war as “the old struggle between paganism and faith in the true God that now plagues human progress, in a new and more destructive form than ever before in the history of man”—as “for Christianity and Judaism to survive, which means nothing less than for civilization to survive, this neo-paganism must be completely destroyed.” In this vein, Lang labeled totalitarians and Nazis as “the neo-pagans of our time” seeking to “annihilate… [t]his invigorating sense of the dignity and worth of life, by which alone man discovers purpose in life, springs from the wells of faith in the God of the Universe.” Lang argued that, “[when] the sovereignty of God is acknowledged, the preservation and enhancement of human life as a supreme value becomes the central motif of… religious and moral ideas and ideals… [at] the very core of… Judaism.” Therefore, Lang therefore concluded, “Judaism… must… combat these falsehoods and their modern social implications with no less zeal than did Israel’s prophets and sages when they faced the more primitive forms of paganism.”¹²

The day after Lang had offered his call for rabbinic engagement in the war efforts, Rabbi Kohn presented “Seeking Peace in Time of War,”¹³ proffered as “A Statement by the Rabbinical Assembly of America of its Peace Objectives in the Present Crisis”¹⁴ and presumably on behalf of “the Social Justice Committee” of the Rabbinical Assembly.¹⁵ Rabbi Kohn called for “the speedy restoration of peace[,]… our effort to realize… brotherhood for men[,]… [which] can never be attained without the defeat of those powers that glorify in warfare and openly avow their right to conquer and dominate other peoples.”¹⁶ Kohn proffered a lofty vision for the path to peace: simultaneously avoiding any sense of “national self-righteousness” while overcoming “tyranny… [through] victory… [as] a military victory is not, by itself adequate to secure peace.”¹⁷ Further, contrasting the nobility of pride in American democracy against the nationalism that animated the Nazi party and which Kohn equated with “a form of idolatry” (i.e., “a reversion to the worship of a tribal or local deity”)—Kohn sternly warned that “[a] conception of nationhood which implies absolute national sovereignty is incongruous with the belief in the sovereignty of God.”¹⁸

In this same statement, Kohn cautioned against scapegoats within nationalism, “the abuse of the weak… by the strong, where racial differences exist between them,” especially through “myths of the superiority of certain races.”¹⁹ Kohn therefore denounced “the application of the racial myth against us” or “as an excuse for the exploitation of the colored race by the white.”²⁰ Dampening the passions of an American jingoism, Kohn thus advised, “it ill behooves us to adopt a holier-than-thou attitude toward our Allies” when “American justice has been strained by the long-standing sins we have committed against the Negro.” On behalf of the Assembly, Kohn called upon the American “government to remove the last vestiges of discrimination against the Negro… so can we… appear before the Divine Tribunal with clean hands.”²¹ Straddling a voice representative of himself alone, his committee, and the Rabbinical Assembly as a whole—Kohn explicitly criticized American culture for propagating “the myth of racial superiority to justify the colonial rule by the Western powers of the Black, Brown, and Yellow populations of Africa and Asia, the myth that these constitute ‘the White man’s burden.’”²²

Kohn thus demanded “that the peace settlement which is to follow a victory of the United Nations shall accord to the colored peoples of Asia and Africa equality of status with the white nations of the world.”²³ Aspiring toward a more perfect political future, Kohn used this same platform to advocate for “a Post-war World” with an “international authority” of “a world federation of Democratic Nations”—“a body to whom the constituent nations delegate an adequate portion of their sovereignty.”²⁴ Such a world would readily affirm “the right of all Jews who so desire to migrate to Palestine and, when they constitute a majority of the population, to establish there a Jewish commonwealth,” which would “be enrolled as a member nation of the Federal Union [of Democratic Nations].”²⁵

Kohn not only took hold of his platform at this gathering in 1942 to declare that the Rabbinical Assembly would aspire for “world peace”²⁶ but also, through “repudiating the abuses of nationalism that have provoked the present conflict, a just and cooperative international order that shall reflect the sovereignty of God.”²⁷ For Kohn, the potential toxicity of nationalism could be treated by a sacred form of democracy realized by democratic “nations that are committed to the recognition of human rights”²⁸ and are thus able “to order the world after the Kingdom of God.”²⁹

These sketches of a Conservative Jewish moral political philosophy outlined by Kohn and Lang set the stage for Rabbi Morris Adler (1906–1966), who, upon the second day of the 1943 Rabbinical Assembly, delivered a record-breaking lecture—the longest lecture to have been delivered in Hebrew at a Rabbinical Assembly convention until that point. In his “יסודות הדימוקרטיה במסורת ישראל” [sic]—the title to which we have translated as “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition”—Adler posits that democratic ideals naturally evolve from fundamentally Jewish beliefs. Having been ordained eight years prior to this speech, Adler had relatively quickly risen to the ranks of Conservative Jewish intellectual and denominational leadership. His rabbinate was one grounded in a broad and deep knowledge of Jewish texts and contemporary scholarship in philosophy and history, balanced with a love for the Jewish people, all aimed at what he perceived would be the betterment of society as a whole through the uplifting of the finest values of a pluralistic democratic civilization.

This article provides a translation of Adler’s Hebrew lecture at the 1943 convention and contextualizes the content of Adler’s teachings with brief glimpses at Adler’s biography and teachings—all pieces of the mosaic of Adler’s career.

Adler’s Biography in Brief

Born in Slutsk, Belarus, in 1906, Morris Adler immigrated to the United States in 1913. With Morris’ father, Rabbi Joseph Adler—a rosh yeshivah and occasional pulpit rabbi in Brooklyn and Manhattan’s East Side, a teacher of Talmud at Mesifta Torah Vodaath, and founder of the Mesifta Tiferes Yerushalayim, whereat he installed Rabbi Moses Feinstein as rosh yeshivah—Morris was exposed to traditional Jewish texts and life from a very young age.³⁰ The senior Rabbi Adler understood that his child, a public school student, was balancing assimilation into America with adherence to Jewish tradition, and—though Morris’ Judaism would come to look different from Joseph’s—the Talmud teacher most wanted Morris to have an appreciation for Judaism.³¹ When Morris met Goldie Kadish—his future wife—in 1924 in the library of the Hebrew Teachers’ Institute, Goldie encountered “a very shy young man… a real bookworm.”³² While Goldie studied at Hunter College, Morris was studying at both City College of New York as well as the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary.³³ Adler graduated from City College in 1929 with a BS degree concentrating on psychology, philosophy, and English.³⁴ After working for a year in an Orthodox congregation in Missouri, where Adler concluded that, despite his own traditionalism in his practices, Orthodoxy was not an intellectually honest expression of Judaism that could cohere with his philosophical ideals or the America of which he dreamed.³⁵ Beginning his studies at the Jewish Theological Seminary in 1931, Adler gravitated toward Rabbi Mordecai M. Kaplan (1881–1983)—despite the fact that Adler believed, contra Kaplan, in a traditional concept of God and that the Jews remain God’s chosen people.³⁶ Adler, ordained in 1935, was recognized for his homiletical talents upon graduation and was asked if he might stay on to teach at the seminary, but Adler moved to Buffalo, New York, where he served Temple Emanu-El for three years.³⁷ In 1938, Adler and his family moved to Detroit, where he began as an assistant rabbi at Congregation Shaarey Zedek, serving alongside the Senior Rabbi Abraham M. Hershman.³⁸ It was at Congregation Shaarey Zedek that Adler, a few years later, become the senior rabbi and lived out the rest of his rabbinic career.

At Shaarey Zedek, Adler was appreciated for his thoughtful approach to how a congregation such as itself would succeed in transitioning away from Orthodoxy and expressing (a nascent form of) Conservative Judaism.³⁹ Adler’s charismatic personality earned him renown among his many debate partners: Orthodox leaders (even amidst his sitting as the only Conservative rabbi on Detroit’s Orthodox rabbinic council), Zionists, Reform Jews, Christian leaders seeking interfaith partners, academics, and anyone else seeking an exploration of the socio-political problems to which Adler felt Judaism offered timely wisdom.⁴⁰ Adler studied in 1943 to become a chaplain and was assigned an army hospital it Utica, New York, prior to being assigned to the Philippines and Japan.⁴¹ Adler, overwhelmingly beloved at Congregation Shaarey Zedek (including reportedly among the preschoolers of the congregation),⁴² was elected in 1954 to be the congregation’s rabbi for life. The following year, Adler did—at last—teach as Visiting Professor of Homiletics for a semester at the Jewish Theological Seminary.⁴³ In 1955, the Adlers enjoyed a sabbatical life in Jerusalem before returning to Detroit.⁴⁴ Goldie and Morris again lived another half year in Jerusalem one decade after their first sojourn in the holy city.⁴⁵ On February 12, 1966, a young man named Richard Wishnetsky—a budding albeit troubled scholar whom Adler had been counseling—arose near the end of Adler’s sermon and, upon completion of the sermon, demanded everyone but the rabbi leave the bimah; Wishnetsky shot Adler and then himself. The gunman died four days later, and Adler passed on March 11, 1966.⁴⁶ Estimates range from 5,000 to 20,000 in counting those in attendance at the funeral of Rabbi Morris Adler.⁴⁷

Adler as Leader Beyond and Within Conservative Judaism

Committed to the larger progress of a democratic society, Adler had been active in the broader Detroit community as well as the national Jewish world, serving on boards, committees, panels, or commissions of the Citizens Committee for Equal Opportunity, the Clergy Panel for the American Motors Corporation’s consultation on moral and ethical matters, the Commission on Ethics in State Affairs in Michigan, the Community Health Association, the Cultural Commission for the state of Michigan, the Detroit Round Table of Christians and Jews, the Fair Election Practices Commission, the Jewish Community Council, the Jewish Welfare Federation, the Michigan governor’s committees on higher education and on problems of the aging, the National Academy for Jewish Studies, the Rabbinical Council for the United Jewish Appeal, the United Hebrew Schools, Wayne State University’s Department of Near Eastern Languages, and the Zionist Organization of Detroit.⁴⁸ In 1957, the United Auto Workers elected Adler to serve as chairman of its new Public Review Board, placing Adler—a sought-after speaker in interfaith and civic settings—as a public face to the processes of reviewing disputes between employers and employees.

Within Conservative Jewish institutions, Adler had been deeply beloved and quickly recruited to positions of leadership and authority. Rabbi Dr. Louis Finkelstein (1895–1991), Chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America (1940–1972) attested:

[Adler] had no greater admirers than his former teachers at The [sic] Jewish Theological Seminary of America, and the members of its Faculty who joined it after his graduation. The American Academy for Jewish Research paid him the unique tribute of a memorial meeting in his honor, at which an address was delivered by intimate friend, Professor Saul Lieberman, the dean of Jewish scholarship in our time. When he first entered the Rabbinical School of the Seminary, the late Professors Louis Ginzberg and Alexander Marx, as well as Professor Mordecai M. Kaplan… welcomed him not only as a student, but as a student-colleague, a status he retained throughout his life…

To his colleagues in the Rabbinical Assembly, he was an inspiration and a source of constant encouragement. His ties of personal friendship with… Seminary… teachers and administrators […] did not prevent him from offering frank, constructive criticism of their work. On the other hand, his criticism went hand in hand with great efforts to help the Seminary accomplish its purposes at the high level of achievement which was his own standard of acceptability for an endeavor in which he engaged.⁴⁹

The Rabbinical Assembly quickly accepted Adler as a member of several different committees and initiatives within the membership organization. In 1940, Adler both eulogized Rabbi Harry Z. Gordon⁵⁰ and offered a lecture on “The Relationship of the Rabbi to National Organizations.”⁵¹ In 1941, Adler served as a member of the Convention Committee.⁵² In 1943, Adler delivered the Morris D. Levine Memorial Lecture (reprinted below) and by 1947 had become a member of the Rabbinical Assembly’s Standing Committee on Hebrew Culture.⁵³ In 1948, Adler remained a member of the Hebrew Culture Committee,⁵⁴ whose chairman, Rabbi Israel Kazis (1911–2001), reported at the convention on only two activities: that the Committee had “endeavored to stimulate greater interest among the members of the Rabbinical Assembly in Hebrew Culture” and had therefore “operat[ed] the Hebrew Book Club… to encourage the purchase of Hebrew books;” and that “the Committee ha[d] cooperated with the Histadrut Ivrit in the observance of Hebrew Month.”⁵⁵ With the State of Israel having declared its independence on May 14—only two days prior to the convention (May 16–19)—it is likely that members of the Committee were wrestling with the enduring purpose of the Committee, which no longer existed by the 1949 convention.⁵⁶

In 1949, Adler attained what would be his position of greatest influence in the governance—or at least guidance—of institutional Conservative Judaism. Not only did he begin a two-year term on the Rabbinical Assembly’s Executive Council,⁵⁷ but he had also become the Chair of the Jewish Law Committee,⁵⁸ a committee to which he had never belonged before. In his “Report of Committee on Jewish Law and Standards” at the convention (offered Wednesday, June 22, 1949), Adler notes that, at the previous year’s convention, “a resolution was adopted after long and heated discussion, making the reorganization of the Committee on Law mandatory upon the officers and Executive Council.”⁵⁹ It was the task of Adler—a relatively young rabbi who was intimately familiar with the depths of religious traditionalism and progressivism—to heal a divide between the traditionalists and the liberals of the Rabbinical Assembly.⁶⁰

Adler, in his 1949 “Report” on behalf of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards, advanced a mission for this legal body aiming to define and to refine this emergent form of American Judaism. The Committee would “deny the inflexibility of Jewish law” and “assert that Jewish law has… expanded and… not lost its capacity to respond to changing circumstances.”⁶¹ Whereas many new leaders gravitate toward their newfound capacity to claim authority by attaching themselves to bold stances in the face of controversy, Adler sought to exhibit his ability as a leader in determining that neither an entirely conservative (with a lower-case c) nor a wholly reformist (with a lower-case r) project was needed for improving the state of Jewish observance among Conservative Jews. Rather, employing his homiletic talents, it was through dialectic speeches like this “Report” where Adler demonstrated his sympathy with both conservatives and reformists encamped within a single denominational tent.

The “elephant in the room” took the shape of a lively debate surrounding the new technological and geographic realities of Jews who relied on electricity, driving, or other arguably forbidden activities on Shabbat. Inasmuch as the committee’s role was not as much to comfort the Rabbinical Assembly as it was to guide the Rabbinical Assembly, an outside observer might wonder if Adler had, after two years, found chairing the committee too frustrating in such a tense period when Conservative rabbis feared for the longevity of their movement should it express religious guidance to be deemed either too lenient or too traditional. Yet, in 1949, Adler appeared optimistic for the intentional activities of the newly reformed committee and argued that the committee recognized both the necessities and the limitations of modifying Jewish law.⁶² Further, with high hopes, Adler announced—alluding to the questions of electricity and driving on Shabbat—that Rabbi Jacob Agus (1911–1986) from the committee would create “a valuable proposal… for greater Sabbath appreciation and observance,” for “change may… create the opportunity for better Jewish living, [but] it cannot create the fact.^”63

The result erupted a year later. Agus co-authored with Rabbis Adler and Theodore Friedman (1908–1992) “A Responsum on the Sabbath,”⁶⁴ a preamble to three complementary sections: “A Responsum on the Sabbath, Section A: A Modern Approach to Living Halachah” by Rabbi Robert Gordis (1908–1992);⁶⁵ “Section B: The Sabbath Halachah—Travel and the Use of Electricity” by Rabbi Dr. Ben Zion Bokser (1907–1984);⁶⁶ and “The Use of Electricity on the Sabbath” by Rabbi Arthur H. Neulander (1896–1988).⁶⁷ This quadripartite responsum, when presented at the Rabbinical Assembly convention of 1950, invited a “Discussion,” which, in its printed form, records just how controversial the leniencies were that the committee granted in certain practices pertaining to driving to a synagogue or using electricity on Shabbat.⁶⁸ Furthermore, in the history of Conservative Judaism, it has been rare for any responsum to be reconsidered as many times as has been “A Responsum on the Sabbath.” At the time of this writing, the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards or at least one author of the responsum has, in one way or another, published at least twelve follow-ups to this responsum to clarify or to limit its original arguments.⁶⁹ Although Adler was a skilled harmonizer and scholar, the sole responsum published under his name exacerbated disharmony within the movement. Although several of Adler’s co-authors would go on to chair the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards,⁷⁰ Adler—who, incidentally, was uncomfortable driving to synagogue⁷¹—departed from the committee before the 1951 convention, by which point Adler’s term on the Executive Council had expired. Adler would not return to a Rabbinical Assembly convention again until the year after Adler had merited, during the spring semester of 1955, to teach at JTS. In 1956, Adler would again utilize his homiletic and philosophic prowess before the Rabbinical Assembly as he presented “Public Education and Religion,” a lecture followed by discussion.⁷² Adler reappeared in 1957 to offer a “Testimonial to Rabbi Max Arzt”⁷³ and again in 1959 to eulogize Abraham Hershman.⁷⁴ In 1966, the Rabbinical Assembly commemorated Adler as Rabbi Eli Aaron Bohnen (1909–1992), Adler’s successor at Temple Emanu-El in Buffalo, eulogized his predecessor as a rabbi who loved the Jewish people and one who “did not regard the layman as… the enemy.”⁷⁵ In Finkelstein’s recollection, Adler “regarded preaching and oratory as minor aspects of the pulpit ministry” while “[h]is interest was primarily in instruction, in pastoral work, particularly with youth, and in the defense of the disadvantaged.”⁷⁶

As erudite as Adler’s scholarship may have been, it was the sense of humanity that poured through Adler’s rabbinate that made him an obvious and compelling leader.⁷⁷

Adler on Democracy and America

Inasmuch as Adler dedicated hundreds of pages’ worth of writing to the subject of democracy—in its broad senses that animated his understanding of the purpose and promise of the American dream—far more than can fit the pages of this article deserves to be said in appreciation of Adler’s conception of democracy. Adler references multiple times in the lecture below the “cosmic value” of every human life as a fundamental belief native to democracy. In his writings generally, Adler presents the equality and grandeur of all human life as if it were equally a covenant from God to the Jewish people and a promise from the founding fathers of the United States of America to the nation’s future inhabitants. Adler’s 1947 book Great Passages from the Torah—which, in being peppered with “discussion questions,” wears the costume of an educational guide to the Torah but largely presents Adler’s own occasional tangential commentary to the Torah. Adler’s commentary and discussion prompts on Genesis 1:26–27 quickly become an excursus on American democracy and the norms of a civil society. Adler speaks of humanity’s “cosmic dignity” and “divine quality” for having been “formed in the image of God,” who grants humanity “inalienable rights.” To this end, Adler writes that “[n]o man may… be regarded as sub-human” and that “[b]‍efore God all men are equal.”⁷⁸

In an undated address from the 1940s cited from the National Conference of Christians and Jews’ “Why We Fight; Minister, Priest, Rabbi Discuss Values at Stake,” Adler delineates several purposes for American troops to go to war. Aside from an aim to establish an international body of law,⁷⁹ Adler enumerates: (1) a fight “for the rights of individuals… to uphold the story in Genesis[,]” in light of “man [being] created in the divine image… [and] endowed with cosmic dignity;” (2) a fight “for the rights of peoples;” and (3) a fight “for total freedom,” which must be “universal,” for “[t]he interrelated character of the world makes it impossible to have the world half-slave and half-free.”⁸⁰

That trait of “cosmic dignity,” invoked both in Great Passages from the Torah and in “Why We Fight,” appears also in “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition,” which may have been penned before the above quotations. One who reads “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition” will recognize that the phrase “inalienable rights” sits among the few instances when Adler says a phrase in English during his Hebrew lecture—as if “inalienable rights” is an untranslatable idea, or something that loses its meaning when attempted to be articulated in a foreign tongue. For Adler, the “inalienable rights” bestowed upon Americans were sacred, appearing frequently in his teachings. Thus, on one morning in October 1956, in a federal court, addressing 105 newly sworn-in American citizens—recalling when Rabbi Joseph Adler, upon becoming a citizen, chanted Hallel, and blessed his family⁸¹—the Rabbi Morris Adler offered a blessing to these new citizens. In this charge, he urged them to “resist with true American courage every encroachment upon the liberty of men, and… oppose every movement… to weaken or destroy our inalienable rights as children of God and as citizens of America.” Further, he proclaimed that they understand that the United States constitutes “the servant of humanity and the steward of liberty for all men.”⁸²

For Adler, the pursuit and contemplation of liberty as one of these inalienable rights amounted to a religious activity sanctioned, if not urged, by the liturgy of the Passover Seder. “Religion,” he argued, “extended man’s liberty,” and “[m]an’s political freedom became more assured when… the rights and dignity of man… were given political rights.” Recalling “the American tradition suggested by the term ‘inalienable rights,’” Adler called upon the Jewish people to “explor[e] both… life and the meanings of liberty… imbedded in it,” so as to embody the Haggadah’s ideal of “‘he who persists in the investigation and recital of man’s liberation is praiseworthy.’”⁸³

For American society to succeed—and for the Jewish pursuit of freedom to be made manifest—Adler emphasized that humanity must evolve. Such development was natural to the Jew, for, in Adler’s words, “[t]he Jew was the first to recognize that man is not only a creature of nature, but… also a product of history.” Jews know that “man… is not only the product of natural impulses… but is also born into history.” The notion that the civilized human encounters precedent separates humanity from the rest of the animal kingdom. As Adler put it:

Every tiger is born a first tiger. There is no difference between the tiger born yesterday and the tiger born five thousand years ago; they are both equipped with the same instinctual urges… The tiger born today is as savage as the tiger born ten thousand years earlier. But this is not true of the human being. He is born into a world which has been developed and shaped by the architects of past generations. He receives, almost at birth (our children are bright), a language, a culture, an environment, a home, a family, a human understanding and affection and sympathy that have required untold centuries for their development and blossoming…⁸⁴

Adler frequently touted this idea that humanity would evolve from a primeval uncivilized collective of organic matter to a progressively enlightened society. As made evident in Adler’s writings (especially in the final paragraphs of “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition”), Adler was a pluralist who hesitated to speak ill of any category of human. The religious injunction to blot out the name of Amalek from history (as per Deuteronomy 25:19) demanded, in Adler’s understanding, not the destruction of a people but the rejection of the archetypical human being who withholds society’s progress. On March 13 (Shabbat Zakhor) of 1954, Adler called upon his congregants to demand an end to the actions of those who obstruct the development of human civilization; after all, “Amalek… symbolizes the antagonist of civilization” and “is the arch foe of progress and freedom.” Amalek, in Adler’s words, “represents… primeval, disruptive forces that must be overcome if humanity is to advance.”⁸⁵

For Adler, the brilliance of the Jewish tradition shined through its narratives’ and laws’ commitment to a society constantly building upon the progress of its predecessors. This pattern, heralded by Moses, ignited a moral revolution in Adler’s eyes. Moses contained “a great and unyielding spirit of independence,” having overcome the “prejudices and… beliefs” of the Egyptian royal family. For Adler, Moses’ iconoclasm enabled him to “cut off the shackles of conformity,” proving that “progress starts with deviation” and “[h]uman advancement depends on rebellion against any… formula that impedes progress.⁸⁶

Non-conformity, argued Adler in his 1958 book The World of the Talmud, enabled the Talmud to become the sui generis cultural achievement it was. The Talmud’s sages, “spokesmen [who] were rooted deeply in the history and tradition of their group,” had “conformed to none of the hero-patterns [of] the Western world.” Rather, they “were teachers… of… an ethico-religio-cultural tradition… concerned with the meaning of life, the dignity of man, the … social good and the inner life of the individual.”⁸⁷

Adler’s ideal of a Judaism that reshapes the civilization around it for the betterment of humanity was both symbolized and concretized by the friendship Adler struck up with Walter Philip Reuther (1907–1970), president of the United Auto Workers (1946–1970) and the Congress of Industrial Organizations (1952–1955). The partnership between these two men resulted in regular—and sincerely friendly—correspondences between the most powerful leader in American unionizing and one of the most esteemed orators of the Jewish tradition, as if progressivism and Judaism themselves had become friends. In a letter thanking Adler (whom he regularly addressed as “my dear Morris”)⁸⁸ for sending Reuther a copy of The World of the Talmud,⁸⁹ Reuther expressed further gratitude for Adler for being a kind friend in a politically volatile world.⁹⁰ Reuther (whom Adler addressed as “My Dear Walter”)⁹¹ remained in touch with Adler even when Morris and Goldie had moved to Jerusalem for a stay of several months.⁹² After having already received an honorary doctorate from Wayne State University in 1960,⁹³ Adler was to be honored again with a Doctor of Divinity Degree from the Jewish Theological Seminary on December 19, 1965.⁹⁴ When Reuther could not attend the ceremony, Adler responded that the honorary degree was of relatively small import since Adler came to “regard FRIEND as the noblest and most significant titles” and expressed his joy and pride in his friendship with Reuther.⁹⁵

Adler believed in the UAW as a force that restored human dignity and, in a letter dated December 17, 1965 and written to Reuther, Adler emphasized this point accordingly, referencing the life of “a gentleman of 80” whose funeral Adler had officiated the day before. The deceased had been employed by Ford for 39 years and “witnessed the changes that had come with… the UAW.” Adler narrated that the man had “formerly… been a serf, exposed to the insults of a foreman and… discrimination [by] his superiors” and had subsequently “become an individual, endowed with dignity.”⁹⁶

Only moments before Morris Adler was shot, he had concluded a sermon to celebrate the birthday of Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865), the first American of whom the patriotic Joseph Adler had ever learned.⁹⁷ In this sermon, Adler preached a hagiography of Lincoln—as if Lincoln’s life were a lesson in patriotism and humanism itself—and described in great detail the “saintliness” of the former president who, prior to his assassination 101 years earlier, had “left us… our enduring legacy.”⁹⁸ For Adler, the Lincoln Memorial monument is “a cathedral, and the thoughts and sentiments that flood your mind and your heart are religious thoughts, and the sentiments are reverent.”⁹⁹ In Adler’s mind, Lincoln united patriotism and prophecy, adhering to “God’s will” while being “unafraid to criticize his own nation.” Lincoln’s criticism came with love for America, Adler thought. In Adler’s words:

Patriotism does not mean blindness to our country’s faults. If this were so, the Prophets were the worst of patriots, for they saw the faults of their people… The great patriot sees faults, and because of his love for his country, he sees them with unusual clarity…¹⁰⁰

For Adler, Lincoln was a rare but core locutor of American religion. Although Lincoln’s religion was not purely a religion of his ancestors, it was a religion learned from experience, for the betterment of society, and with a hope for the future. The eulogizing and beatification of Abraham Lincoln from the pulpit of Rabbi Morris Adler exemplified the Judaization of the American story and the Americanization of the Jewish tradition—the convergence of democracy and the Jewish tradition.

Adler in Hebrew

Adler, as the footnotes to his lecture below alone elucidate, was well-read in modern Hebrew, and Adler would occasionally correspond in Hebrew in private. In private correspondences in English made available to this author, Adler tended to write in a jovial and often humorous tone.¹⁰¹ When writing in Hebrew, however, Adler’s private letters would occasionally creep into more biting criticism. It is in this spirit that, in an undated letter sent while he was working at Shaarey Zedek, Adler complained to his friend (“לידידי,” literally “to my friend”), one “מר יצחק הכהן כ״ץ” (‘Mr. Isaac HaKohen Katz’) that, while he appreciated much of the content of the Jewish Historical Society of Michigan’s journal’s most recent issue, he found certain aspects unworthy of inclusion in such a journal, for the content had not engaged “בדברי הימים” (“with timely matters”). He advised:

אם אין די חומר טוב להדפיס חוברת פעם אחת לשנה ולא לתת חותם האגודה על ידיעות שאינן מרחיבות ומעשירות ידיעתנו והבנתנו על העבר.

If there is not sufficient content, it is fine to print the journal once a year and not to put a stamp of the society’s approval on “news” that does not expand or enrich our knowledge and understanding of the past.¹⁰²

With greater fluctuation in tone, Adler occasionally heatedly corresponded with his slightly older friend Rabbi Nissan Waxman (1904–1982)—whom Adler likely met at Yeshiva University, where Waxman was ordained in 1926.¹⁰³ Waxman served the Jewish community of Lakewood, New Jersey for 12 years. Waxman is remembered for having “sparked the establishment of the Beth Medrash Govoah and prevailed upon the Gaon Horav Aaron Kotler to assume its helm” and, when living in Brooklyn, having been appointed as Executive Director of the Federated Council of Israel Institutions shortly before April 1961.¹⁰⁴ Waxman’s work on behalf of the Jewish people and for Zionism undoubtedly aligned with Adler’s passions, but the vast gap between Adler’s Conservative Judaism and Waxman’s very traditional orientation undoubtedly led to tensions in their relationship. Adler, for his part, occasionally published in English in the abstract on arguing about fundamental beliefs with an anonymized amicable Orthodox interlocutor.¹⁰⁵ Nonetheless Waxman’s and Adler’s dynamic relationship is preserved in Hebrew letters from one to the other from as early as June 12, 1931, and as late as December 20, 1963. The relationship was indeed occasionally cordial; in one undated letter to “וכסמן,” Adler thanks Waxman for sending him a copy of Waxman’s new book,¹⁰⁶ and—in another letter early in Adler’s career—the two tried to meet in Mount Clemens, Michigan, but Adler’s professional responsibilities got in the way.¹⁰⁷ In that same letter, Adler describes Waxman as “חריף” (meaning either “spicy” or “learned”) and says “תרתי משמע” (“this is a double entendre”), for Adler had received from Waxman a message described as “החריפה והשנינה” (“spicy and biting”). In turn, Adler jabbed, “אכן שמח אנכי שמעולם לא למדתני ׳מוסר׳” (“I am happy that you never taught me musar [i.e., Jewish ethical character development]”).¹⁰⁸ The letters Waxman sent to Adler remain at this time unavailable (if they still exist). Yet, in one undated short message sent to Waxman by Adler at Shaarey Zedek, Adler’s words offer an aggravated excerpt from what was then Waxman’s most recent letter to his friend:

הייתי מאוד רוצה לדבר איתך ארוכות וקצרות על המימרא בכרטיסך
“Though at times I feel like giving you hell”

I am very interested in speaking with you at length and briefly on your having said in your last card, “Though at times I feel like giving you hell.”¹⁰⁹

Though Adler mostly wrote and spoke in English and occasionally in Hebrew, he was also conversant in Yiddish, corresponding occasionally in the language. Adler wrote letters in Yiddish to Waxman¹¹⁰ as well as to the Labor Zionist leader Morris Schaver (1893–1961)—for Adler, a fellow “ר׳ משה” (“Reb Moshe”).¹¹¹ Although he rarely used his Yiddish in public, Adler did compose one article for the 1951 memorial book Lita,¹¹² and the Yiddish and Ashkenazic pronunciation of his Hebrew is evident in the transcriptions that Adler’s cousin Rabbi Jacob Chinitz made from discreetly taped audio recordings of Adler’s sermons.¹¹³

Prior to Adler’s lecture, the Rabbinical Assembly conventions had featured fewer than a dozen presentations in Hebrew—including Rabbi Elias Charry’s “Opening Prayer” and in memoriam speeches recalling the lives of Dr. Julius Kaplan (1885–1939) and Rabbi Morris Levine. The Rabbinical Assembly conventions had featured Hebrew lectures by the former director of the Rabbinical Assembly and halakhic scholar Rabbi Louis Epstein (1887–1949); an eventual recipient of the Israel prize, the Palestinian scholar of Jewish law Paltiel Dickstein (1885–1969); the professor of medieval Jewish philosophy Rabbi Dr. Herman Hailperin (1899–1973); the Hebrew revivalist and professor at the Jewish Theological Seminary Zvi Scharfstein (1884–1972); professor of Jewish philosophy Israel Efros (1891–1981); scholar of rabbinic literature Rabbi Dr. Max Kadushin (1895–1980); Professor of Hebrew Literature at the Jewish Theological Seminary Dr. Hillel Bavli (1893–1961); and the translator and predecessor to Adler at Shaarey Zedek, Rabbi Abraham M. Hershman.¹¹⁴ In fact, though Dickstein spoke in Hebrew when addressing the Assembly in its first convention in 1927, it took 12 years for the Assembly ever to receive an address entirely in Hebrew—and this revival of Hebrew would be Hershman’s words of comfort after the loss of the Hebraist Levine, to whom Adler would dedicate “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition.”

The Construction of Adler’s “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition”

In a style reminiscent of medieval, early modern rabbinic, and maskilic literature, Adler employs shorthand phrases found in classical rabbinic literature and seamlessly weaves into the material of his lecture stitches of rabbinic aphorisms—some better known than others—often without offering citation or any warning that a quote is about to begin or has ended. In this respect, Adler ties and unites his own oration into the larger body of rabbinic discourse that permeates several millennia of Jewish religious texts.

For Adler, quoting the sages of classic rabbinic literature was rarely sufficient for his homiletic standards. He was likely to quote great philosophers, poets, and politicians—from justices to presidents. Finkelstein suggests Adler “had total recall, never forgetting anything he read,” from Jewish law and lore to “ancient and modern world literature” and anything in between—all communicated with Adler’s “rare eloquence.”¹¹⁵

In “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition,” Adler reveals a bibliography that stretches across the expanse of Jewish sacred writings, all the way from the Hebrew Bible through modern Jewish thinkers, such as Rabbis Drs. Solomon Goldman (1893–1953) and Max Kadushin. Into this mix Adler adds President John Adams, Justice Louis Brandeis, the English biologist Thomas Huxley, the Catholic theologian Jacques Maritain, the German mathematician Oswald Spengler,¹¹⁶ and others. Demonstrating his ability to keep on top of emergent intellectual trends, Adler frequently cites works published less than 10 years prior to his delivery of this lecture.

A Note on Our Translation

Our translation (in Appendix B), while attempting to remain loyal to the beauty in Adler’s Hebrew writing, occasionally assigns a colloquial interpretation to a Hebrew idiom that does not translate well into English. Likewise, the written version of Adler’s Hebrew speech (appearing in Appendix A)¹¹⁷ includes punctuation markings that do not match the content of his speech; this translation aims to correct such errors gently. For ease of reading, I have not always followed Adler’s separation of paragraphs or punctuation—and except to explain omitted words or phrases that would ease the reader not yet familiar with the Hebrew and Aramaic shorthand that Adler inserts into his otherwise largely pre-State modern Hebrew lecture—I have not added to, removed, or reordered any of Adler’s arguments or ideas in the published text.

Given that there appear to be several run-on sentences and citations that appear incorrect, the Hebrew text seemingly either reflects a draft with errors, a transcription with errors, or—less likely given the reputation that Adler built on his ability to lecture without a script¹¹⁸—sentences that simply were poorly constructed. For Hebrew clauses that appear not to make sense, I have tried my best to alter only minimally Adler’s words to present a coherent and flowing message.

Likewise, this article does not intend to provide a textual critical inquiry into the transcript of Adler’s text printed in the Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly; therefore, errors in the original text are rarely highlighted here and are instead generally smoothed over in the translation. The Hebrew text is provided to allow the reader to encounter Adler’s words as printed (though not necessarily as orated, in case the text either has errors or was in any way abandoned or altered when Adler did deliver this lecture). The English translation is intended to be accessible and useful, especially for rabbis and other teachers who might wish to explore, or even to preach from, Adler’s understanding on the intersection of Judaism and democracy. In this lecture, Adler does not merely present and summarize democratic ideals asserted by others before him and place these ancient rabbinic teachings on a modern stage. Adler adds to these words his own original thoughts that a reader today may deem quoteworthy, especially amidst the pithier, terser assertions Adler articulates.

Although small differences may occasionally appear between Adler’s quotation of Hebrew texts and their most common expressions, the differences (such as word order, an accidentally missing word of limited significance, or the change or absence of a prefixal conjunction) are minimal enough so as not to warrant a review of such minutiae. It should be noted further that the printed version of Adler’s lecture does not cite all of Adler’s sources; the footnotes to this translation intend to recover as many as possible.

A reader unfamiliar with Adler’s other compositions might question the lengthiness of the words in this lecture’s preamble; however, when Adler did not offer an explicit “opener” in his sermons and articles (i.e., a clear illustration serving as an example to demonstrate his point), Adler was wont to preface much of his writings with abstract musings regarding the moral concepts he would weigh in his discourse.

For readers who might compare the original Hebrew text against our translation, a few notes on particular terms are in order.

As in many Hebrew writings preceding the rise of the State of Israel, Adler’s usage of the proper noun ישראל (“Israel”) is often synonymous with “יהדות” (“Judaism”). Inasmuch as the latter term appears not to have appeared until perhaps the twelfth century,¹¹⁹ among writers emulating classical Hebrew, the term ישראל has long been a preferred Hebrew name for Judaism. Furthermore, Adler was himself affiliated with Reconstructionists—as made evident in his frequent contributions to The Reconstructionist. In 1943, Kaplanians like Adler naturally felt much—if not total—overlap between the connotation of Jewish peoplehood (e.g., tribalism, history, and heritage) in the term Israel and the sense of Jewish religion (e.g., rituals and beliefs) connoted by the term Judaism. (The reader of the original Hebrew in this article will note that Adler does in fact call Judaism by the name “יהדות.”)¹²⁰

Several times in this lecture, Adler interchangeably uses the phrases “השקפת עולם” and “תפיסת־עולם,” translated here as either “worldview” or “world outlook.”¹²¹ In the discourse to which Adler was exposed in his studies, this phrase carries the grander philosophical meaning embedded in the German term Weltanschauung, an important framing for mid-twentieth-century Conservative Jewish intellectuals in their insistence that Judaism should be compelling to its adherents and those studying the religion.¹²²

Adler, in his own English oration, did often speak of “man” in reference to the paradigm of humanity—much as was fashionable in the most popular translations of the Hebrew Bible’s rendering of “אדם” (adam, meaning “man,” “human,” “humanity,” or “Adam”) or in other popular English translations of core Jewish works. Adler also often spoke, consciously or not, in gender-neutral terms (“one,” “human,” “humanity,” etc.).¹²³ This translation often employs gender-neutral language to translate Adler’s Hebrew words but, like Adler, does resort to referring to “man” and “his” wellbeing, etc.

All errors herein are my own.

Appendix A: Full Hebrew Text of “The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition”

¹²⁴ יסודות הדימוקרטיה במסורת ישראל

מאת משה חיים אדלר

ציון לזכר מורנו פרופ׳ משה הלוי ז״ל

דורנו נתפס ונתערבל במלחמה כבדה וטראגית. המלחמה היא כל־מקיפה, טוטאלית כפי הביטוי השגור בפינו היום. אלה המעמיקים לראות מבינים שהמלחמה הזאת היא פרי משבר רוחני עמוק בחיי הרוח של המערב. דורנו הנהו עד לא רק להתנפלות מבחוץ ולהתאבקות גופנית בלבד, אלא הוא עומד לפני התפוררות והתנונות רוחנית מבפנים. מלחמה אינה יוצרת את המצבר השורר, מלחמה רק מגלה אותו, תהליך של רקבון ופשרנות מוסרית של שנים בא לגלוי דרמטי בשעת־הרס זו. אם ״מחוץ תשכל חרב״ זהו מפני ש״מחדרים אימה״. היסטוריון אחד אמר שרומה נפלה לא בידי הברברים מבחוץ כי אם על ידי הברברים מבפנים. ברברים קמים בתוך חברה משום שיש בה יסוד של ברבריות, משום שכוחות פרימיטיביים חבויים בקרבה. השונא בימינו מתאמץ לערער עד היסוד את העיקרוניים הרוחניים והמוסריים שבשמם דברו, חלמו ופעלו גדולי־הרוח, מפּני שבשטחים רחבים בחיינו כחשנו וכפרנו למעשה באידיאלים הרמים אלה. הכוחות המניעים והמכריעים בחברה נבעו לעתים קרובות מגישה בלתי־מוסרית ואנטי־רוחנית לחיים ולאדם. כשלון הרוח מבפנים היה כה חזק עד שמצא ביטויו בהתפרצות חיצונית ממשית. אם רואים אנו בעינינו מרידה מאורגנת במשטר הדימוקראטי, הפּוליטי, ובאותם היסודות שעליהם קיים משטר זה ושלהגשמתם הוא מוקדש — יש למצוא את הסיבה בזה שהדימוקראטיה למרות נצחונותיה והתקדמותה במשך המאה הקודמת, לא כבשה את הלב, לא השפיעה השפעה שלמה על התרבות המערבית ולא חדרה לתוך שטחי חיים רבים וחשובים.

[עמ׳ 208] שאילת הדימוקראטיה, נפתוליה בעבר וסיכוייה ותקוותיה להבא, עומדים על הפרק. כל זמן שהאידיאלים הדימוקראטיים היו מקובלים בפי העם למחצה לשליש ולרביע, השתמש בהם העם לא רק כמטרות שאליהן יש לכוון את צעדיהם אלא גם כקנה־מדה קבוע שעל ידו היה אפשר להעריך את המציאות, את ליקוייה ומגרעותיה. הודות לזה קמו מזמן לזמן אנשים עדיני־רוח וערי־לב, ויסדו מסביבם תנועות מתקדמות כדי למתח בקורת על המשטר ולהצביע בגידתו באידיאלים ועל חטאיו. בימינו אלה יצא האויב במלחמה לא רק נגד ממשלות בעלי־הברית כי אם נגד האידיאלים ומושגים של חופש, צדק חברתי, שויון — אידיאלים שנולדו מתוך חבלי לידה והתפתחות היסטורית במשך מאות בשנים.

לעם ישראל יש קשר כמעט ביאולוגי עם העיקרונים שהשונא אומר לשרש ולעקור מן הלב ומן החיים. חיינו בתור מיעוט במערב, תלויים במדה גדולה בהכרת ובהגשמת יסודות היושר והדין וזכויות־האדם. חז״ל הכרו שבזמן ש״פּורענות באה לעולם אין מרגיש בה תחילה אלא יעקב״ אם הערכים המוסריים האלה יאבדו אז עומדת לפנינו פורענות אחת ארוכה, ממושכה — ומי יוכל אז לנבא עתידו של עם ישראל, עם מפוזר, נטול־אונים ואכול־ליאות וחולי. אבל יש עוד טעם מכריע המראה על העובדה שהדימוקראטיה נוגעת בנו נגיעה מיוחדת — והיא שמקורם של רוב היסודות המוסריים האלה, שעליהם נשענת וקיימת הדימוקראטיה נמצא במסורתנו אנו — הורתם ולידתם ברוח ישראל. מתרבות ישראל ירשה וקבלה האנושיות את העיקרונים שהיו לאבן־הפינה של החברה הפרוגרסיבית. הדימוקראטיה בתור שיטת חיים חברתיים מיוסדה על הנחות מוסריות שהובעו ראשונה על ידי נביאי והוגי ישראל. פרופ׳ עצמן בספרו ״מעיני החרות״, "Fountainheads of Freedom", מדגיש כי יש למצוא מקור הדימוקראטיה באמונה שהאלהים כרת ברית את האדם. האמונה הזאת היא היא שהלהיבה לבות לוחמי־החופש וממנה שאבו כוחות עצומים להגן על החרות נגד המלכים והעריצים. וביחוד — הוא ממשיך מצאו ראשי התנועות שהגינו על שויון פוליטי וסוציאלי באנגליה ובאמריקה מקור למסירותם ואמונתם, בדברי מיכה והושע.

השונא הרגיש בקשר האמיץ הזה בין היהודי והאידיאלים שמרד בהם. אין זה מקרה גרידא שהוא יורה את חציו לא רק ביהודים כי אם גם [עמ׳ 209] ביהדות במובנה הכי מקיף. רצונו עז למחק את השפעתה על מהלך החיים במערב. יודע השונא, באותה האינטואציה שלא תמיד הוליכה אותו שולל — שמתוך היהדות נובעים אותם הערכים שבהם הוא נלחם, ושכל זמן שהיהדות קיימת באיזו צורה שהיא, אפילו בצורת הנצרות, לא ישכחו לגמרי רעיונות אלה. רק אם יעקרו הרעיונות תוכל ממשלת הזדון להתפשט בעולם ורק אז תצליח לכסות בחשכה את כל האנושיות.

בשעת סער והרס זו בזמן שצלתא מרובה מחמתא עת שמשטר ישן גוסס וגוע, וסדר חדש טרם נולד—בתקופת בין־השמשות בדברי ימי עולם—כשהגורל מצוה שהחברה תתקדם ותעלה למדרגה מוסרית יותר גבוהה או תאבד מן העולם—יש צורך חיוני ממש לפרש וללבן אותם המושגים שבשבילם אנו נלחמם, ולרדת ליסודם הכי עמוק ולגלות את מקורם ונקודתם הכי מרכזית באמריקה שגורה המימרא American Way of Life, ״אורח חיים אמריקאי״, ובאופן מפשט כהה ומערפל מבינים אנו את כוונתה. השעה מוכשרה לביטוי עיקרי הדימוקראטיה. הדימוקראטיה כאמור, אינה רק משטר פוליטי אלא גם השקפת־עולם, שיטה מקיפה שיסודותיה נמצאים בדת ובפילוסופיה. מבירור היסודות בעקביות נסיק את המסקנות לסדר את חיינו הפוליטיים, החברתיים והכלכליים. מצד אחד הוקלה עלינו קצת עבודת הבירור וההסברה כי שונאנו דוגל בהשקפת־חיים שתוכל לשמש כנגוד שלם וגמור לשיטתו אָנו. אולם אחריות הבירור השלם מוטלת על נושאי־נס הדת והפילוסופיה, והעבודה החשובה הזאת לא תיגמר בדור אחד או שנים כדי להכניס לתוך שיטה מקיפה מסיומה כל הרעיונות, הערכים והמסקנות הכרוכים באורח חיים הדימוקראטי.

כדאי כעת להעיר על עיקרים אחדים בתורת הדימוקראטיה ולמצוא שרשם במסורת ישראל. שני קשיים לפנינו. את האחד כבר הזכרנו. השיטה הדימוקראטית טרם אורגנה וסודרה כל צרכה. והשני הוא שמסורת ישראל גם היא אינה שיטה מאורגנת, בנויה בסדר אדריכלי. חוקר אחד אמר ביחס לנביאים "They reacted to the thrill rather than to the theory of a universe".

עסוקים היו ביותר בחיים גופם ולא ביצירת שיטות. הם נגשו לעולם ולחיים גישה אינטואיטיבית עמוקה. והאמת הזאת ניתנת להאמר על [עמ׳ 210] מסורתנו בכלל. ולכן אפשר לאמור ביחס לתורתנו מה שאי־אפשר לאמור לשיטה פילוסופית מסודרת ״אין מוקדם ומאוחר״. יוצרי היהדות, הוגיה חוזיה, לוחמיה ולומדיה—היו ליוצרי—חברה, ובוני־עם ולא למסדרי־שיטות. ממעל לראשם ומסביבם נשבו כל רוחות עולמם. בגופם ובנפשם הרגישו כל כוחות־החיים, זעזועם, דחיפתם ולבטיהם. הם לא התבודדו מעולם ולא הצטמצמו במחשבה בלבד. מתוך היהדות השתקפו חיי העם בשלמותם, ולא רק מחשבת העם, ולכן חסרים לה סדר וארגון. ביהדות יש למצוא את כל הגוונים ואת כל הניגודים שהחיים השוטפים גופם מצטיינים בהם. ״הפך בה והפך בה דכלא בה״—אפשר לאמר על היהדות ועל החיים כאחד. ביהדות אפשר למצוא מדרגות התפתחות שונות. חטיבה אחת היא מסורתנו שנולדה וקמה מתוך מאורעות, הרפתקאות ונסיונות חיים של אומה אחת שעל בניה הוטל גורל אחד. על סדן ההיסטוריה שלה חוצבו השקפותיה. כפי שהראה ד״ר קדושין בספרו ״Organic Thinking״, ביהדות שוררת אחדות אורגנית אפינית המאחה את כל פרטיה וחלקיה ליצירה שלמה עקבית אחת. סדר גיאומטרי חיצוני אין. עקביות יסודית פנימית יש ויש. וד״ר קדושין מוכיח שאין הכרה דתית דומה להכרה הגיונית פילוסופית, המגיעה להכרת בורא עולם מתוך חשבון רציונלי. היהודי פּתח בהכרת בורא, והיווני המעולה סיים בהכרת בורא. היווני הגיע לאמת זו רק אחרי חקירה ודרישה הגיונית ומדעית, שעל ידה הובררה לו טעות רבוי האלילים ובוקי סריקי הכרוכים בהם. היהודי כמעט בצעדו הראשון על במת ההיסטוריה נגש לחיים מזויין באמונה ובהסתכלות אינטואַטיבית, והאמונה הזאת הטילה עליו את האחריות לתקן עולם במלכות שדי. היווני התעלה עד כדי הכרה הגיונית באחדות הבורא אבל ההכרה הזאת לא שמשה לו מעולם מעין שממנו שאב את הרצון וההכרח לשנות ולתקן את חיי החברה. נשארה לו הכרה גרידא. ד״ר גלדמן בספרו ״היהודי והיקום״ מביע את הרעיון כי הגישה האינואטיבית אפנית ליהדות ושבספרות היהדות הקלאסית שלנו, בתנ״ך, בספרים החיצונים, בתלמוד ובמדרש—אין למצוא מושכלים ראשונים, סיללגיזם, והנחות מיטפיזיות. ההגיון בא למלא אחרי האינטואציא. ברור הוא שאין לבקש שיטה מסודרת ע״פ ההגיון במסורה. אבל בכל זאת יש למצוא השקפת־חיים עקבית, וחומר לשיטה מיטפיזית ופילוסופית יש למצוא הנחות עיקריות מובעות או בתלי־מובעות שהנן בהסכם גמור עם מהלך המחשבה של היהדות.

[עמ׳ 211] לראשונה, חושב אני שצריך להגדיר את הדימוקראטיה, כפי שהיא משתקפת מתוך החיים החברתיים והפוליטיים באמריקה—המדינה הקלסית לדימוקראטיה וכפי שהיא מובעה בכתבי הוגיה וסופריה. לא לנתח את השיטה הדימוקראטית לפרטיה באים אלא להבליט בדרך כלל עיקריה.

ראשית—הדימוקראטיה מאמינה בשוין המין האנושי. אע״פ שיש להכיר שינויים עמוקים בין אדם לרעהו, הן בכשרון שבו חונן מהטבע והירושה, הן ברוח, הן בידיעה—אולם לגבי הממשלה כל אזרחיה שווים. מתוך השקפה אידיאלית אין הממשלה מעונינת בהבדלים שבין אחד לשני לא מצד התפתחותו ולא מצד עמדתו האיקונומית. אין קובעים מדרגות באזרחיות. אין אזרח בארץ שערכו בהצבעה יותר מאחד, ואין אזרח שהנהו פחות מאחד. כל ההבדלים בטלים לגבי השויון היסודי המאחד כולם. בחיי הציבור של ישראל יש למצוא הדגשה זו בדין ״העשיר לא ירבה והדל לא ימעיט״ מפני שיש שטח מרכזי בחיים שההבדל בין העשיר והדל אינו בר־ערך.

שנית—הדימוקראטיה מצטיינת באמון בכשרונותיו וערכו של האדם הפרטי, הפשוט, אדם זה שלא תרם ושמעולם לא יתרום תרומה חשובה לתרבות ולהיסטוריה, ושלא יצא לו מוניטין בעולם—אדם זה מוכשר להתקדם ולהשתלם. אין הדימוקראטיה נמנית בין אלה השיטות השוללות את אפשריותיו וחשיבותו של היחיד, ושדנים אותו לעבדות ולאפסיות סוציאלית. הדימוקראטיה קיימת על האמונה שלאדם הפּשוט יש הכשרון ליצור את גורלו הפוליטי. ערך האדם היחיד עומד למעלה מנכסים והתקדמותו החמרית והרוחנית מהווה את התכלית המרכזית של המשטר.

שלישית—הדימוקראטיה מדגישה את הזולתיות ואת רגש האחריות הסוציאלית. כאמור, מגמת הדימוקראטיה היא לברא את התנאים הנוחים להתפתחות האדם ואשרו, ומגמה זו אפשר להשיג רק בתנאי אם בקרב לב בני־הארץ יהיה נטוע רגש הכרה לזולת. הממשלה הדימוקראטית שואפת להרחיב את שטח החופש ולצמצם את שטח הכפיה. רצונו להעביר ולבטל את עול הברזל של אונס ושעבוד ולמלא את מקומו בעול הזהב של משמעת פנימית. השיטה הדימוקראטית מכירה כי השינויים הבאים בחיי־החברה רק ע״י חוקים, כפיה ולחץ חיצוני, בני־חלוף המה ואין סופם להתקיים. יש צורך לברא בכל יחיד השתלמות פּנימית על ידי התפּתחות רגש אהדה לזולת, [עמ׳ 212] על ידי זה יבראו ויתעוררו בקרבו אותם הכוחות והשאיפות שיבואו להתקדמות חברתית. לפי דעת השופט ברנדייס, אחת המטרות העיקריות של משטר דימוקראטי הוא להכניס לתוך חיי כל אזרח השקפה ואחריות סוציאלית גבוהה.

רביעית—יש בדימוקראטיה משום חסימת הרצון. אמת הדבר כי הרוב מכריע ומחליט, אבל גם הרוב ביודעים או בלא יודעים מקבל עליו הגבלות קבועות. כי אם הרוב לא יקבל עליו ברצון את ההגבלות יכול הוא להיות לגבי המיעוט כמושל בכפה, עריץ ורודן. לעתים קרובות רגילים אנו להגדיר את הדימוקראטיה כמשטר שבו הרוב מכריע. אולם רק חצי־האמת נמצא בהגדרה זו. כי אם הרוב ישתמש בכוחו להכריע, לשלול את זכויותיו של המיעוט, לשעבדו ולהחניקו תהיה לנו ממשלת הרוב אבל לא דימוקראטיה. אז תקום לפנינו אליגורכיה רחבה המכילה את רוב העם, אבל אליגורכיה ולא יותר. לכן מחויב הוא הרוב לקבל על עצמו הצטמצות הכוחות כדי שלא לגזל מן המיעוט, ואפילו אם המיעוט יהיה יחיד, את הרשות לבטא ולהפיץ את דעותיו הוא, כל זמן שדעות אלו אינן מסכנות את קיום הסדר ואינן מחלישות זכויות הזולת.

ועוד מין החמרה יש בדימוקראטיה. הממשלה מצמצמת את כוחותיה. אחד הרעיונות שעליו מדובר בימינו הוא limited sovereignty, שכל מדינה ומדינה תשים גבול וחוק לממשלתה. ביחד לאזרחיה אין לממשלה הדימוקראטית שליטה בלתי מוגבלת. מודה היא בזכויותיו של היחיד שהן קנין־עולם לו ושאין לממשלה הרשות לבטלן. כוח עליון חנן את האדם בזכויות אלה ואין לממשלה זכות ליטול אותן ממנו. (בהצהרת־החרות, כתוב בפירוש ״מאמינים אנו שדברים אלו אינם צריכים ראיה, שכל בני־אדם נוצרו בצלם אחד והוענקו מבוראם בזכויות קבועות שניתנו לו לקנין עולם, והן—חיים, חירות וחפוש אושר... ובכל עת שהממשלה תבא להניח מכשולים בעד השגת המטרה, הרשות בידי בני־העם לבטל את הממשלה ולהקים ממשלה חדשה אשר תוסד על העיקרים האלה. הרשות בידם לכונן את הממשלה ולחזקה כדי שיוכלו להגיע על ידה אל מדרגת־מה של בטחון ואושר.״)

ולכן אין הדימוקראטיה משטר של פרנסים ומנהיגים כי אם משטר של חוקים ומשפטים. כוחם ורשותם של ראשי הממשלה קבועים ומוגבלים.

[עמ׳ 213] המשטר הדימוקראטי אינו מוצק וקפוא. יש בו גמישות וכשרון להתפתחות ולשינוי, שצריך כמובן לבא ברצון הרוב ותחת השפעת מהלך החיים והשינויים המתחדשים בחברה.

הדימוקראטיה היא במובן עמוק שיטה אופטימיסטית, אסירת־תקוה ובטחון ובעלת־אמון בחיים ובעתיד.

ההנחות היסודיות שעליהן קיימת הדימוקראטיה בתור השקפת־עולם ואורח־חיים אינן ניתנות להוכחה לא ע״י המדע ולא ע״י הפילוסופיה הרצינלית. אי־אפשר להוכיח ולשכנע כי לכל אדם יש ערך עליון וחשיבות מיוחדה, או ששויון בני־האדם היא אידיאל כדאי ואמיתי, או שהחופש הוא זכותו של כל איש. אין בכוח הפסיכולוגיה או ההיסטוריה להוכיח הנחות אלה. הן תוצאות גישה דתית־רוחנית ואי־אפשר לעורר מסירות עמוקה לקדשי הדימקראטיה בלי גישה דתית.

מהו איפוא הגשר בין שיטת הדימוקראטיה כפי שהיא משתקפת במחשבה הפוליטית בימינו ובין מסורתנו. [sic] האמונה הישראלית מעמידה כעיקר חשוב ויסודי—ובמדה ידועה הנהו העיקר המרכזי הכי־חשוב בה—את האפי המוסרי של החיים. המלה ״חיים״ בספרותנו אינה מושב נוטראלי, שאול מהביאולוגיה, רק שם דבר או תופעה. המלה חיים היא מוגש עמוס מובנים והדים מוסריים. המלה מסמנת את ההנהגה ואת היחסים המתאימים לאפיו המוסרי של היקום. ״רשעים בחייהם קרואים מתים״ כי חייהם משוללי־מוסר ולכן נטולי־ערך הם. ״יראת ה׳ מקור חיים״ ״מי האיש החפץ חיים״—שואל נעים זמירות ישראל, ותשובתו אינה מכוונת לא לבריאות ולא לארך ימים במובנם הרגיל.

״על שלשה דברים העולם קיים, על האמת ועל הדין ועל השלום״ לא ירדת לעמקם של החיים עד שצללת מתחת לשכבת הפוליטיקה, והכלכלה והגעת לנקודה מרכזית זו—העמוד התוך של החיים—האופי המוסרי שלהם. כשרצה היוצר לברא את העולם ״היה הקב״ה מביט בתורה ובורא את העולם״ (ב״ר פ״א). אם יש דטרמיניזם כל שהוא במהלך ההיסטוריה, הלא הוא דטרמניזם מוסרי. החוקים שעל פיהם חקק הבורא את השמים ואת הארץ, [עמ׳ 214] את הירח ואת השמש ואת הים—אינם יותר איתנים וקבועים, יותר מוצקים מהחוקים המוסריים שעל פּיהם חקק הבורא את האדם ואת סדר העולם. מגמת החיים הן קדושה צדק ושלום. באותה מדרגה שהחברה או היחיד מכניסים לתוך חייהם ומגשימים את העיקרונים האלה—האותה מדרגה מצליחים הם. (העיקרונים הללו משמשים קנה־מדה להצלחה ביקום מוסרי.) ובה במדה שהיחיד או החברה מורדים בסדר עולם ומעמקים את רצון הבורא, בה במדה הם בוגדים בחיים—וסוף־סוף יהיו למשוללי־אושר והצלחה. רק שתי דרכים משתרעות לפני הפרט או הכלל והן קבלת־עול או פריקת־עול. התורה מכנה את שתי הדרכים האלה חיים ומות, או ברכה וקללה. ״ראה אנכי נותן לפניכם היום ברכה וקללה” (דברים יא: כו) “ראה נתתי לפניך את החיים ואת הטוב, ואת הטוב, ואת המות ואת הרע״ (דברים ל: טו) (גם בלשון יחיד ובלשון רבים נאמרו דברים אלה, כי תכלית החיים של הכלל אינה נבדלת באיכותה מזו של הפרט.) לאידיאלים של צדק ושלום יש שרש במציאות, בסדר וטבע העולם. יש להם אחיזה בקרקע המציאות ולכן השקפת עולם של היהדות היא כמו השקפתה של הדימוקראטיה בעצם השקפה אופטימיסטית עמוקה. ״למה נברא העולם בבי״ת ולא באל״ף מפני שהבי״ת לשון ברכה והאל״ף לשון ארור (ירושלמי חגיגה פ״ב ה״א).

הדימוקראטיה שואבת את כוחה המוסרי מהשקפה זאת. מסקנותיה לחיים הפוליטיים והכלכליים נובעים מהנחה עיקרית זאת. מגמותיה החברתיות של הדימוקראיה קשורות ושלובות בהשקפת עולם זו. שונא הדימוקראטיה בימינו הרגיש כי עליו למרד בהשקפה מוסרית זו, אם רוצה הוא להצדיק את פעולותיו ואת הריסותיו. לכן רוצה הוא להשחית את הזרם שהכניס ישראל לתוך חיי התרבות במערב. (טריטשקה אחד ההוגים שהניח יסוד לפשיזם אמר ״Alle Rechtpflege ist eine politische Tätigkeit״, זכויות העם קבועות וחרוצות אך ורק ע״י דרישות הפוליטיקה. ושפנגלר שממימיו שותים מנהיגי הפשיזם בא לידי מסקנה "Der Kamp ist die Urtatsache des Lebens, ist das Leben selbst". שמקור החיים הוא המלחמה. מלחמה וחיים חד הם.

מתוך השקפה זאת, המדינה נעשתה למקור כל זכויות האדם, שאין גדול הימנו. במקום מוסר יש פוליטיקה. במקום אלהים יש ממשלה. המסורה שלנו והדימוקראטיה מעריכות את החיים כתופעה מוסרית. האידיאלים הנשגבים הם לנו ראי המציאות שבו משתקף היקום המוסרי.

[עמ׳ 215] בתפיסת־עולם של היהדות תופס האדם מקום מרכזי, מקום ראשי. יצירת האדם היא גלת הכתרת של הבריאה, ולכן ״אדם אחד שקול כנגד כל מעשי בראשית״ (אבות דר״נ ל״א) נבדל האדם משאר היצור הבדל עמוק ואיכותי, כי הוא נברא בצלם. ״חביב אדם שנברא בצלם חבה יתרה נודעת לו שנברא בצלם שנאמר כי בצלם אלהים עשה את האדם״ (אבות ג). ר׳ יהושע בן לוי מציר את חשיבות הקוסמית של האדם במלים אלה ״בשעה שאדם הולך בדרך איקוניא של מלאכים לפניו ומכריזין ואומרין תנו מקום לאיקונין של הקב״ה. חותמו של הקב״ה חרות על החומר האנושי הגשמי. אסור לשום כוח, ממשלה או כנסיה להשתמש ביציר אלהים כעמצעי לאיזו תכלית שהיא. הצלם שבו נברא מעניק לאדם את תכונתו וסגותוליו המיוחדות לו. האדם הוא בריאה מוסרית־גופנית, וכשהוא מורד בחלק המוסרי שבו אז ע״פ הבטוי התלמודי הוא ״ממעט הדמות״. לאדם פרטי יש ערך קוסמי. ״לפיכך נברא אדם יחידי ללמדך שכל המאבד נפש אחת מבני אדם מעלה עליו הכתוב כאלו איבד עולם מלא״ (סנהדרין ל״ז). ההרמוניה של היקום לקויה כשמחסרים ממנה קול יחיד. אדם משתנה מחברו והשינוי הזה מעשיר ברבוי־המונים והצלילים את חיי־החברה. ולפיכך נברא האדם יחיד להגיד גדולתו של הקב״ה שאדם טובע כמה מטהעות בחותם אחד, כלן דומין זה לזה ומלך מלכי המלכים הקב״ה טבע כל אדם בחותמו של אדם הראשון ואין אחד מהם דומה לחברו״ (סנה׳ ל״ח) כפי שראינו הדימוקראטיה מגינה על המיעוט כעל היחיד ורואה את רבוי־הדעות ורב גונית החברתית בתוכה כיתרון ולא כהפסד. המסורה שלנו אינה מוצאת את האדם שלם בתכונתו. יש שהיא מחליטה ״יצר מחשבות לבו רק רע כל היום״ (ברא׳ ו), ויודעת כי האדם כמו כל מה שנברא בששת ימי בראשית צריך תקון (ב״ר י״א).

הדת הישראלית מדגישה כי לכל אדם יש מקום מיוחד לו ביקום. ״הקטן והגדול שוין לפני הקב״ה״ (שמו״ר פ״מ סוף). על הפסוק ״אתם נצבים... ראשיכם זקניכם... טפכם... וגרך[״] (דברים כ״ט: ט–י) אומרים חז״ל אע״פ שמניתי לכם ראשים, זקנים ושוטרים כלכם שוין לפני שנאמר כל איש ישראל (תנחומא). והנביא יואל מנבא ״והיה אחרי כן אשפוך את רוחי על כל בשר ונבאו בניכם ובנותיכם, זקניכם חלומות יחלמון, בחוריכם חזיונות יראו. וגם על העבדים ועל השפחות בימים ההמה אשפּוך את רוחי״ (יואל ג: א–ב) ה׳ הוא ״שומע תפלה עדיך כל בשר יבאו״ (תהלים ס״ה), בשר ודם, אומר המדרש, אם בא עני לומר דבר לפניו, אינו שומע הימנו, אם בא עשיר לומר דבר מיד הוא שומע ומקבלו. אבל הקב״ה אינו כן. אלא הכל שוין [עמ׳ 216] לפניו, הנשים והעבדים והעניים והעשירים. תדע לך שהרי משה רבן של כל הנביאים כתיב בו מה שכתוב בעני, במשה כתיב תפלה למשה איש האלהים (תהלים צ׳) ובעני כתיב תפלה לעני כי יעטוף ולפני ה׳ כי ישפוך שיחו (תהלים ק״ב) זו תפלה וזו תפלה (שמו״ר פ׳ כ״א).

מתחת לכל ההבדלים המפרידים בין אדם לאדם, הבדלים תרבותיים, סוציאליים, כלכליים—עמוק מכולם הוא הצד המשותף כי כל אדם נברא בצלם. אי־אפשר לשער יסוד יותר עמוק מזה לשיטה המדברת בשם חופש וזכויות־האדם. כפי שכבר הזכרנו יודעת המסורה לספר גם על קין ודור מבול, ועל כוחות ההרס הפרימיטיביים שעוד מושלים בקרב האדם. אבל האמונה הישראלית אינה מטפלת אך ורק באדם כמו שהוא, במצבו ובמדרגתו הנוכחית, אלא גם באדם כמו שצריך ויכול להיות מדה זו משותפת וגם לדימוקראטיה.

המסקנה ההכרחית מהשקפה זאת היא כי החברה מחויבת להבטיח לכל אדם מקום בתוכה לפי חשיבותו הקוסמית. במלה אחת, החברה הכנה והנאמנה צריכה להעניק לאדם הפרטי יתרון וערך חברתי כפי ערכו הקוסמי. מרכז הדימוקראטיה הוא היחיד שלשמו, לטובתו ולהתפתחותו קיימת החברה. מתחת לשיטה הדימוקראטית מתוח המצע התיאולוגי הזה. כשהצהרת־החרות מדברת על ”Inalienable Rights“, זכויות קבועות בתכונת ואופי האדם, ואומרת שאין לממשלה הרשות להגביל אותן, הנה בהכרח בנוי המושג הזה על הנחה תיאולוגית או מיטיפיסית, המגדירה את טבע האדם ומקומו ביקום. (החוק העברי בהטילו עונשין על מי שחטא אינו בא רק להגן על הניזק ועל הנגזל—אלא בא לשם תקון נפשו של המזיק והגזלן). יש להרחיב את הדין ולקיים לפנים משורת הדין אם אפשר על ידי זה לקרב את החוטא ולהשפיע עליו שישוב מדרכו. אם מישהו גנב קורה ובנה אותה לתוך ביתו, אל נקפּיד שישיב הגנב דוקא אותה הקורה אשר גנב אלא הרשות ניתנה לו לשלם דמי הקורה. חז״ל אמרו במימרא חריפה ובוקעת ״לא חרבה ירושלים אלא על שדנו בה דין תורה״. ובגמרא מפורש שהעמידו דיניהם על דין תורה ולא קיימו לפנים משורת הדין (ב״מ ל׳). רב הטיל על אחד לקיים לפנים משורת הדין, והלז שאל ״דינא הכי?״ אמר רב ״אין, למען תלך בדרך טובים״ (משלי ב׳) (ב״מ פ״ג) גם ברשע ובחוטא נמצא צלם אלהים אף כי נחלש ונדעך. אין לבקש מיתת הרשעים דכתיב יתמו חטאים מן הארץ מן הארץ, חוטאים לא כתיב—אלא צריך לבקש רחמים שיחזרו בתשובה.״ אסור לו לאדם שיתפלל על הרשעים שיסתלקו מן העולם (מדה״ג וירא). אין הקב״ה שמח [עמ׳ 217] במפלתם של רשעים. ביציאת מצרים השתיק הקב״ה את שירת הנצחון של מלאכי השרת ״מעשי ידי טובעים בים ואתם אומרים שירה לפני״ (סנהדרין ל״ט). בפסח אין אתה מוצא שכתב בו אפילו שמחה אחת אע״פ שבחג אתה מוצא שלש שמחות, למה? בשביל שמתו בה המצריים (ילקוט שמעוני אמור). לכל אישיות יש ערך רב הקבוע בסדר העולם. אפילו עבד כנעני ניתן לעבודה ולא ניתן לאדון כדי שזה האחרון יביישו ויכלימו (נדה מ״ז). וביחס לעבד עברי הלא ידוע ״כל הקונה עבד עברי כקונה אדון לעצמו״ (קדושין כ׳) כתוב ״כי טוב לו עמך״ (דברים ט״ו) עמך במאכל ועמך במשתה שלא תהיה אתה אוכל פת נקיה והוא אוכל פת קיבר, אתה שותה יין ישן, והוא שותה יין חדש, אתה ישן על גבי מכים והוא ישן על גבי התבן (קדושין כ׳). גם לנכרי וגם לעובד פסילים היו זכויות בחוק ובמעמד לפני בית־הדין העברי (Herzog—“Main Institutions of Jewish Law,” I, 41).

היחס העדין לאדם הפרטי מחייב לא עמדה של ״יקוב הדין את ההר״ אלא ״מה הוא רחום אף אתה רחום״. העולם נברא ע״י שתוף מדת הדין ומדת הרחמים. והמדרש מזכירנו כי בתורה, בנביאים ובכתובים כשהקב״ה מזכיר את המשפּט סומך לו את החסד מכאן ואת הצדקה מכאן. (מדה״ג פ׳ וירא). הדימוקראטיה קבלה מן הדת את הרעיון הזה על חשיבותו של האדם, של כל אדם. ומפני שהאדם הוא יציר ה׳ אי אפשר לו לפתח ולשכלל את רוחו כי אם ע״י החפש והחרות. המושג הדת של חרות אינו משחרר את האדם מכל עול. עול מצוות מוטל עליו ורק כשמת נעשה חפשי מן המצוות. מגמת החברה היא לפרוק את עול הברזל והשעבוד כדי שהאדם יהיה חפשי לקבל עליו את עול מלכות שמים. כמו שהדימוקראטיה שואפת הדת לפתח עול מבפנים במקום עול מבחוץ. הפילוסוף הרמן כהן חשב כי המושג של מלכות שמים מכיל בקרבו כל היסודות המוסריים שהחברה זקוקה להם. החברה צריכה איפוא לתת ליחיד את האפשרות להתפתח. אחד התנאים להתפתחותו של אדם הוא חברת בני אדם זולתו. מוריטיין בספרו ”Scholasticism and Politics“ מושך קו בין עצמיות ואישיות (individuality and personality) כל בן אדם הנהו עצמאי. מדת העצמיות הזאת מסמנת אותו ומבדילה אותו מאחרים. אולם היחיד הזה נעשה לאישיות רק דרך יחסים והשפעות חברתיים. אישיות הוא מושג סוציאלי. בלי אלהים וחברה אי־אפשר לשום בן־אדם להגיע למדרגת אישיות. מגמת החברה אינה אנדיבידואליזם שסופה אנרכיה ולא קוללקטיביזם שסופו שויון מיכני, מחניק—כי אם משטר שע״י יחסים חברתיים יוכל היחיד לבא לידי מדרגת אישיות סוציאלית.

[עמ׳ 218] גם בזה הולכת הדימוקראטיה בעקבות מסורתנו. מסורתנו מציבה חוק וגבול מסוים ומוצק לשלטון השררה, ואסור למושל לעבור גבול קבוע זה. מימרא קלאסית בתורה שבעל פּה של אמריקה ׳היא׳ שהמשטר הדימוקראטי הוא system of laws, not men—כלומר, החוק ולא השליט הוא הכוח המכריע בחברה. אין צורך להרבות בהוכחות שהיהדות מעמידה את הצדק ואת הדין במרכז החיים ולא את אישיות המושל. כמובן, שלפי השגותינו המודרניות לא היה משטר דימוקראטי פּוליטי בחיי ישראל. הנטיה החשובה הזאת שהממשלה צריכה להכנע לפני החוק אפינית היא ליהדות. מתוך השקפה אחת היתה הממשלה בישראל מונורכיה, אע״פ שאי־אפשר לעבור בשתיקה על הדברים החריפים שהפליט שמואל הנביא. כשבאו בני הדור לפני שמואל בבקשה שיקים עליהם מלך, התקומם כנגדם בכל תקפו ובדבריו הביא לבטוי נמרץ, נטיה ומסורה שהיתה נטועה בחביון־הרוח של ישראל. ״ואתם תהיו לו לעבדים וזעקתם ביום ההוא מלפני מלככם אשר בחרתם לכם״ (שמואל א, ח). המונרכיה הישראלית נבדלה הבדל איכותי משאר מלכויות ימי קדם. יוסף פלוויוס הדגיש חלוק זה ונוכח שאי־אפשר למצות את טיבה המיוחד של מלכות ישראל במלה הרגילה ״מונרכיה״ ונאלץ להמציא ולחדש מלה אחרת. בספרו ״נגד אפיון״ כנה הוא את ממשלת ישראל הקדומה ״תיאוקרטיה״ והוא כותב ״יש עמים שמסרו אל השלטון למלכם והנהו דן יחידי, ויש ששמו במעמד או בכת בטחונם ומסרו להם את השלטון של אליכארכיה... ויש עמים ששמו את ההמון למושל. אבל המחוקק שלנו לא נמשך אחרי שיטות וסדרים אלה, ויסד לנו משטר, שאם תרשו לנו להשתמש בכנוי דחוק, אפשר לקרא לו ״תיאוקרטיה״... המלך לא היה דן יחידי. ממעל לו היה החוק. כאשר חפץ העם להמליך עליהם את גדעון אמר להם ״לא אמשל אני בכם ולא ימשל בני בכם, ה׳ ימשל בכם״ (שופטים ח׳ כ״ג) המסורה שמה גבול לזכות המלך. ״מפני מה נענש אבנר מפני שהיה לו למחות בשאול ולא מיחה״ (סנהדרין כ׳). חז״ל הדגישו את ההבדל בין מערכת המלכות בישראל ובין עמים אחרים. הם אמרו ״זקנים שבדור כהוגן שאלו שנאמר תנה לנו מלך לשפטנו״ (שמואל א׳ ח ו) אבל עמי הארץ שבהם קלקלו שנאמר ״והיינו גם אנחנו ככל הגוים ושפטנו מלכנו ויצא לפנינו״ (סנהדרין כ׳).

בהתפתחות חיי החברה אפשר למצא באופן בולט מלחמה בלתי־פוסקת בין אנרכיה ובין תיאוקראטיה—כי אין דרך שלישית. תיאוקראטיה במובנה הכי רחב היא משטר הנכנע לחוק. דימוקראטיה היא ע״פּ השקפה זו תיאוקרטיה. וויליאם פּן אמר ״אנושיות מוכרחה לבחור או את עול ה׳ או את עול העריצים. דרך אחרת אין.״

[עמ׳ 219] המסורה הזאת שהמלך גם הוא משועבד לחוק היתה חיה ורווחת בישראל. ביחוד משתקפת המסורה הזאת מתוך דברי ומעשי הנביאים. הנביא קם ודבר בשם המסורה הזאת, ולכן לא ירא לדבר דברים נמרצים וחוצבים בשעה שהמלך סר מהדרך ועווה את הדין. נתן הוכיח את דוד. כשמאן נבות למכור או לתת את כרמו לאחאב שאלה איזבל באירוניה ״אתה עתה תעשה מלוכה על ישראל״? האם דבר שכזה יכול להכשיל מלך? האם אפשר שהמלך יעשה עול, הלא מעשיו הם הם הקובעים את הצדק. לאיזבל המלכה, בת מלך הצידונים היה מושג אחר לגמרי. אבל אפילו היא הנכרית, ידעה שמסורה עתיקה תקיפה קיימת בישראל ולכן נאלצה להשתמש בערמומיות ובדרך עקיפין לגזל את הכרם, והמסורה הזאת דברה מגרונו של אליהו כשהתריס כנגד אחאב ״הרצחת וגם ירשת? (מלכים א, כא). והמסורה התקיפה הזאת מוצאת בטוי בדברים החריפים של מיכה הנביא המכוונים כלפי מנהיגי העם ״שמעו נא ראשי יעקב וקציני בית־ישראל, הלוא לכם לדעת את המשפּט, שנאי־טוב אוהבי־רעה, גזלי עורם מעליהם, ושארם מעל עצמותם, ואשר אכלו שאר עמי ועורם מעליהם הפשיטו, ואת עצמותיהם פּצחו, ופרשו כאשר בסיר, וכבשר בתוך קלחת״ (מיכה ג: א–ג). האם אפשר לשער בטוי חותך או קטרוג יותר חריף מזה. הנביא מדמה את הקצינים העריצים לאוכלי אדם וממשלתם לקניבליות פוליטית וסוציאלית. דברים חוצבים כנגד אלה המשתמשים בשררה לטובתם ולהנאתם הם אפשר למצא במקומות רבים בספרי הנביאים. בצדק אמר הוקסלי שבמשך הדורות היה התנ״ך ״למגנא קרטא״ של העניים והמדוכאים, וממנו שאבו את האמונה למרד נגד העריץ.

מלכות ישראל היתה היחידה בימי קדם שהרבה במצוות ״לא תעשה״ בשביל המלך. ״רק לא ירבה לו סוסים... ולא ירבה לו נשים ולא יסור לבבו, וכסף וזהב לא ירבה לו מאד... וכתב לו את משנה התורה הזאת על ספר מלפני הכהנים הלוים והיתה עמו וקרא בו כל ימי חייו, למען ילמד ליראה את ה׳ אלהיו, לשמור את כל דברי התורה הזאת ואת החוקים האלה לעשותם, לבלתי רום לבבו מאחיו ולבלתי סור מן המצוה ימין ושמאל...״ (דברים י״ז).

מורד במלכות אחת דינו להמית. בכל זאת מי שמבטל גזרת המלך כי עסוק הוא במצוה, אפילו במצוה קלה פטור, כי דברי הרב ודברי העבד, ודברי הרב קודמין. והרמב״ן פוסק ״מצוה על המלך לכבד לומדי התורה וכשיכנסו לפניו סנהדרין וחכמי ישראל יעמוד לפניהם ויושיבם בצדו... לא ינהג גסות לב בישראל יותר מדאי ויהיה חונן ומרחם לקטנים וגדולים [עמ׳ 220] ויצא ויבא בחפציהם ובטובתם, ויחוס על כבוד קטן שבקטנים וכשמדבר אל הקהל בלשון רבים ידבר רכות... לעולם יתנהג בענוה, המלך אָסור לשתות דרך שכרות אלא יהיה עוסק בתורה ובצרכי ישראל ביום ובלילה״.

ברור הוא איפוא שכוחו של המלך לא היה מוחלט, אבסולוטי. ככהן גם הוא במדה ידועה כשלוחא דרחמנא. אין בן אדם דן יחידי בישראל. וחכם אחד לא נרתע מלהביע את המלה העזה שאף הקב״ה אינו דן יחידי אלא נושא ונותן עם צבא השמים (ירושלמי סנה׳ א׳).

העמוד התוך של החברה איננו איש או כת אנשים כי אם הדין והצדק. ושלשת הדברים שעליהם קיים העולם, האמת, הדין והשלום אינם אלא דבר אחד, נעשה הדין, נעשה אמת, נעשה שלום (ירושלמי תענית ד׳). מי שמטה את הדין מזעזע את העולם שהוא אחת מרגליו (דברים רבה ה׳). ולהיפך כל דיין הדן דין אמת לאמתו מעלה עליו הכתוב כאלו נעשה שותף להקב״ה במעשי בראשית (שבת י׳). אין הקב״ה משרה שכינתו על ישראל עד שיכלו שופטים ושוטרים רעים מישראל (שבת קל״ט) למנהיג לא נתנה שררה כי אם עבדות (הוריות י׳) הדין צריך לראות את עצמו כאלו חרב מונחת לו בין ירכותיו, וגהינם פתוחה לו מתחתיו (סנה׳ ז) דין שאינו הגון שהעמידו עליהם ישראל כאלו נטעו אשרה בישראל (סנה׳ ז׳). יהושפט מלך יהודה צוה את השופטים שהעמיד ״ראו מה אתם עושים כי לא לאדם תשפּטו כי לה׳ ועמכם בדבר משפּט״ (ד״ה ב, יט: ו).

הדימוקראטיה מדגיש לא רק אחדות־הבורא כי אם גם אחדות האנושיות. יוצר אחד ברא את כל המין האנושי ולא רק חלק ממנו, ואדם הראשון מכל העולם כלו הוצבר עפרו (סנה׳ ל״ח). בספרות ישראל לא נמצא רמז כל שהוא שיש למין חלק מן האנושיות ולהעמידו למטה ממדרגת־אדם. גזע האדם חד הוא. עם ישראל האמין כידוע כי ההשגחה הקציבה לישראל מקום מיוחד ומרכזי בדברי ימי עולם והטילה עליו אחריות נעלה. אולם רעיון הבחירה לא שלל משאר העמים את זכויותיהם ולא כחש במוצאם האחד. גם באומות העולם קמו נביאים וצדיקים. ״כהניך ילבשו צדק—אלו צדיקי אומות העולם שהם כהנים להקב״ה (ילקוט תהלים רמז רצ״ח) ועל הפסוק ״דודי ירד לגנו״ אומרים חז״ל, שהקב״ה ירד לעולמו לראות ולרעות אומות [עמ׳ 221] העולם וללקט שושנים, את הצדיקים שבהם (ירושלמי, ברכות). ספרים כמו רות ויונה מוכיחים שאין שערי התשובה והישועה ננעלים בפני העמים. אין תורת הגזע ביהדות. ״כל הכופר בעבודת אלילים נקרא יהודי״ (מגילה י״ג).

יחוסה של התורה לגר מוכיח כי ישראל ידע להשקיף מחוץ לגבולי־ארצו ועמו ולהושיט יד לכל בני אדם. הרמן כהן מדגיש כמה חשוב חוק המגין על זכויות הגר בהתפּתחות המוסר. לגר ולנכרי יש זכויות לא משום שהוא בן עם מיוחד או יצא מגזע מיוחד אלא משום שהוא בן למין האנושי. בתורת הגר יש למצא רעיון אחדות האנושיות.

דעת אלקים, מלך מלכי המלכים, המקום, שעל כל התבל שפוכה ממשלתו לא נתנה לרעיון הלאומיות והעצמיות החברתית והפוליטית להצטמצם. המסגרת של היהדות היתה רחבה, טוטאלית. ״ה׳ אוהב צדיקים״ (תהלים קמו) למה הקב״ה אוהב צדיקים? שאינם נחלה ואינם משפחה. אתה מוצא הכהנים בית־אב הם, הלווים בית־אב הם, שנא׳ בית־אהרן ברכו את ה׳, בית־הלוי ברכו את ה׳ (תהלים קל״ה) אם מבקש אדם להיות כהן אינו יכול, להיות לוי אינו יכול, למה? שלא היה אביו לא כהן ולא לוי, אבל אם מבקש אדם להיות צדיק אפילו גוי יכול שאינו בית־אב, לכך הוא אמור יראי ה׳ ברכו את ה׳ (תהלים קמ״ה) בית יראי ה׳ לא נאמר אלא יראי ה׳, אינו בית־אב אלא מעצמם נתנדבו ואהבו להקב״ה לפיכך הקב״ה אוהבם״ (במ״ר פ״ח). בדברי ימי ישראל לא היה יום כיום שבו נתנה התורה. אבל יש יום גדול ממנה ״גדולה ירידת גשמים ממתן תורה שמתן תורה שמחה לישראל וירידת גשמים לכל העמים ולכל בהמה, חיה ועוף (תנחומא) מאמר מענין זה מראה לא רק שהיתה לישראל השקפה אוניברסלית אלא גם הבנה חודרת בערך הכוחות החמריים בחיי־החברה.

לא להגן על היהדות כוונתנו כאן, אלא לגלות קצת את הבסיס של המשטר הדימוקראטי בהשקפת־עולם של היהדות. רוח עמנו הבינה וקבלה את יסודות העמוקים של הדימוקראטיה לפני מאות בשנים. באופן רשמי פוליטי, טרם הכניסו את עם ישראל בין ממשלות בעלי־הברית. אבל אין למישהו הרשות לבטל או אפילו להקטין את החלק החשוב שעם ישראל תופש במלחמת־הרוח בימינו. כשיהודי מתקרב אל שרשי תרבותו הוא מתקרב לאותם האידיאלים שעל קיומם אָנו נלחמים בהווה כדי להבטיח את העתיד. בבטחון זה חי עם ישראל, רצוץ, שבור ומפוזר, הוא עמנו היום, אבל אמונתו לא תתן להכנע או להתיאש—כי בעיני רוחו הוא רואה את הקו המאחד את העבר שלו עם העתיד של האנושיות כולה.

Appendix B

The Foundations of Democracy in the Jewish Tradition

Morris Adler¹²⁵

In dedication to the memory of our teacher Professor Moshe HaLevy—may his memory be for a blessing¹²⁶

Our generation is caught and confounded amidst a heavy and tragic war. The war is a comprehensive “total war,” as the saying goes nowadays. Upon delving deep to see, we understand that this war is the fruit of a deep spiritual crisis in the history of the western spirit. Even before we faced physical struggle externally, our generation internally withstood spiritual collapse and degeneration. War does not create a governing collective; war merely reveals it. A process of corruption and ethical concession over the years approaches a dramatic revelation in this hour of destruction. If “the sword shall deal death from the outside,”¹²⁷ this is because “terror from within the chambers”¹²⁸ of our own shall also come. An historian once said that Rome did not fall at the hands of barbarians on the outside but from barbarians from within.¹²⁹ Barbarians arise within a society because it already contains some barbaric element; primitive forces hide within it. The enemy in our days is emboldened to arouse to the core the spiritual and ethical principles in the names of which people of magnanimous spirit have spoken, dreamed, and acted—because, in broad dimensions of our own lives, we have grown weak and substituted these lofty ideals with practicality. The forces that move and force a society have gone expressed frequently from an unethical and anti-spiritual perspective toward life and humanity. The failure of the spirit from within us had been so strong that it found itself expressed in a material, palpable disruption. If we see with our own eyes an organized rebellion against the democratic political state and those foundations upon which the state stands and the materialization of which the state is dedicated—we may uncover the reason that democracy, despite its victories and progress during the previous century, has not captured the heart, has not wielded a veritable influence on western culture, and has not penetrated many important realms of life.

[208] The question of democracy’s past entanglements and future prospects and aspirations stands at a crossroads. Every time when democratic ideals were accepted by some half, third, or quarter of a nation, the nation utilized these not just for the goals toward which one might direct one’s steps but also as an established metric by which it was possible to evaluate the flaws and pitfalls of the nation’s reality. Thanks to this, from time to time there arose men of gifted spirit and of awakened hearts; they founded progressive movements around themselves in order to extend critiques of the government and to point out its sins and its betrayals of its ideals. In these days, the enemy has emerged for war not only against the governments of the Allies but also against the ideals and ideas of freedom, social justice, and equality—ideals that were born in pain amidst historic developments taking place over the course of hundreds of years.

The nation Israel¹³⁰ is nearly biologically tied to the principles that the enemy claims they will uproot and deprive from the heart and from life. Yet our diminished form of life in the west relies in large measure on the recognition and concretization of the foundations of morality, law, and human rights. Our sages of blessed memory recognized that in the time when “retribution comes to the world, the first to feel it are the children of Jacob.”¹³¹ If these ethical values disappear, then one long continuous retribution stands before us—and who would then prophesy the fate of the nation Israel, a scattered nation, powerless, consumed by exhaustion and malady?

Yet there is still persuasive reason to shed light on the fact that democracy touches us in a special way. The source of the majority of these ethical foundations, upon which democracy rests and persists, are found within our own tradition—their gestation and their birth originating within the spirit of Israel. Humanity inherited and adopted from Jewish culture the principles that became the cornerstone of progressive society. Democracy, in its form as an aspect of social living, is based on ethical assumptions expressed by the prophets and spokespeople of Israel. Professor Edman, in his book Fountainheads of Freedom, emphasizes that one can find the source of democracy in the belief that God made a covenant with humanity.¹³² This belief is that which has impassioned the hearts of freedom fighters, and vast forces have drawn upon this belief in order to defend freedom against kings and tyrants. This extends, in particular, to the leaders of movements who defended political and social equality in England and America; they found a source for their tradition and their faith in the words of Micah and Hosea.¹³³

The enemy has sensed a strong link between the Jew and the ideals against which he revolted. It is no mere coincidence that he shoots his arrows not only at Jews but also [209] at Judaism in the most comprehensive sense. He is intense in his will to erase the influence of Judaism on the ways of western living. With that same intuition that has not always misguided him, the enemy knows that Judaism expresses those values against which he has fought, and that, as long as Judaism exists in any form—even in the form of Christianity¹³⁴—these ideas will never be forgotten. Only if these ideas were to be uprooted could this evil regime spread throughout the world, and only then would it succeed in eclipsing humanity in darkness.

In this hour of upheaval and destruction, in this moment when the shadow exceeds the sunlight, in an era when the old regime is dying and lowing and a new order has yet to be born, in an interstitial period in matters of world chronology, when fate demands that society will advance and rise to a higher ethical rung or perish from the world—there is a real vital need to explain and to clarify those ideas for which we are fighting, to delve into their deepest foundation, to expose that their source and centermost point in America is commonly called the “American Way of Life,” the meaning of which we might understand only in the dimmest and most clouded light. This moment is ripe for expressing the foundations of democracy. Democracy, as it has been said, is not just a political entity but also a worldview, a comprehensive system with foundations found in religion and philosophy. By carefully tracing these foundations, we will arrive at the outcomes that order our political, social, and economic lives. On the one hand, this elucidatory and explanatory work has been made easier because our enemy waves prominently above us a perspective that could serve as the exact opposite of our own approach. However, the responsibility for a complete analysis rests upon those who uphold the banner of religion and philosophy, and this important work will not be completed within one or two generations by haphazardly inserting something or another into a comprehensive system from a mere summary of the ideas, values, and outcomes encompassing the democratic way of life.

At this time, it is appropriate to remark on several principles in the theory of democracy and to discover their root in the Jewish tradition. There are, however, two challenges before us. We have already mentioned the first. The democratic system has not yet been organized and ordered as necessary. Secondly, the Jewish tradition is not an organized system, built with architectural order. One researcher said with regard to the prophets, “They reacted to the thrill rather than to the theory of a universe.”

They were occupied mostly with life itself and not in the creation of systems. They came to the world and life itself with a deeply intuitive approach. This truth may be said regarding [210] our tradition in general. And it is therefore possible to say with regards to our Torah—something that is impossible to say about a philosophic system—“nothing comes prior or afterwards.”¹³⁵ The artisans of Judaism—its spokespeople, its visionaries, its warriors, and its students—became the artisans of society, the builders of a nation, and not the organizers of systems. Above them and around them blew the winds of their world. In their body and in the spirit, they felt all the forces of life—their rattles, their thrusts, and their passions. They neither isolated themselves from the world nor retreated themselves to solitary thought. From within Judaism, the whole life of the nation became manifest—not just the thought of the nation—and therefore Judaism came to lack order and organization. Within Judaism it is possible to find all of the varieties and all of the contradictions by which the flow of life itself is marked. “Turn it, and flip it, for all is inside it” can be said regarding Judaism and life alike.¹³⁶ In Judaism it is possible to find different stages of development. Simultaneously, it is our tradition that was born and remained standing through the incidentals, adventures, and life experiences of one nation upon whose children a single fate has been cast; its worldviews have been carved from the trunk of history. Just as Dr. Kadushin showed in his book Organic Thinking,¹³⁷ within Judaism, there governs a particular organic unity that in the end fuses all of its aspects and parts into one single whole creation. It has no external geometric shape. In terms of a fundamental internal consistency—it has one, and it doesn’t have one. Dr. Kadushin argues that there is no religious cognition equivalent to logical philosophical cognition, which strives for recognition of the Creator of the world through a rational calculus. The Jew began from recognition of a Creator, and the Greek ended with recognition of the Creator. The Greek arrived at this truth only after rational and scientific research and inquiry—by which the error of the proliferation of false idols and the “empty vessels” enveloped within them became clear to him. The Jew, nearly upon his first step upon the stage of history, approaches life armed with faith and intuitive enlightenment. This faith has cast upon him the responsibility “to repair the world in the Kingdom of Shaddai.”¹³⁸ The Greek has been uplifted so as to be able to recognize rationally the oneness of the Creator, but he never used this recognition as a spring from which he would draw the will or the necessity to change and to repair the life of a society. All that is left for him is that recognition. Dr. Goldman, in his book The Jew and the Universe,¹³⁹ expresses the idea that the intuitive approach to Judaism is particular to Judaism and that in our classic Jewish literature—the Hebrew Bible, the Apocrypha, the Talmud, and midrash—it is not possible to find axioms, syllogisms, or metaphysical postulates. Logic comes to complement intuition. It is clearly unviable to demand of the Jewish tradition an organized logical system. However, despite this, it is possible to find a consistent perspective on life, and it is possible to find material for a metaphysical philosophical system: explicit or implicit foundational postulates that are absolutely consonant with the process of Jewish thought.¹⁴⁰

[211] To begin with, I think that one needs to define democracy as it is made manifest within social and political life in America—the classic state of democracy—and as it is expressed in the writings of its philosophers and authors. We have not come to analyze the democratic system detail-by-detail but to emphasize in general its principles.

First, democracy believes in the equality of the human species. Even though one might recognize deep differences between one human and another—by measure of the talent with which one has been graced by nature or by heritage, or spirit, or knowledge—nevertheless, when it comes to a government, all of its citizens are equal. In accord with this idealistic perspective, the government is not interested in the differences between one person or another evolutionarily or economically. We do not set tiers of citizenship. There is no citizen in the land whose electoral value is greater than 1, and there is no citizen for whom this is lesser than 1.¹⁴¹ All differences are annulled for the sake of the fundamental equality that unites all people. In the communal life of Israel, we can find this emphasis in the law that “the rich shall not pay more, and the poor shall not pay less” (when registering the Israelites in the wilderness)¹⁴²—for here is a central aspect of life: the difference between the rich and the poor is of no worth whatsoever.

Second, democracy is marked by the refinement of the talents and value of the common private individual. Any person who has never contributed and never will contribute a meaningful gift to culture and history and who may never earn renown is a person nonetheless with the capacity to advance and to improve. Democracy is not counted among the systems that negate the potentialities and importance of the individual, sentencing the individual to slavery and to social worthlessness. Democracy stands by the belief that even the most simple-minded individual has the talent to design their own political fate. The value of the individual person stands above all property, and a person’s advancement materially and spiritually alters the central mission of the government.

Third, democracy emphasizes neighborliness and the feeling of social responsibility. As has been said, the democratic trend creates conditions that foster a person’s advancement and happiness. One can understand this tendency only on the condition that a feeling of empathy for the neighbor is planted amidst the heart of the land’s people. The democratic government aims to expand the realm of freedom and to contract the realm of oppression. It wishes to cast aside and to annul the bronze yoke of duress and servitude and to substitute it with the golden yoke of internal discipline. The democratic system recognizes that the differences that come in societal life only by way of laws, oppression, and external pressure are unstable, “and they are not destined to endure.”¹⁴³ There is a need to create within every individual personal fulfillment through the development of sympathy for the neighbor; [212] through this, the powers and aspirations that lead to societal advancement will be formed and aroused in the midst of the private individual. According to Justice Brandeis, one of the foundational purposes of the democratic government is to bring into the lives of all citizens a high-minded outlook and social responsibility.¹⁴⁴

Fourth, democracy has some restraint on its own willpower. The truth of the matter is that the majority determines and decides law, but also the majority—whether knowingly or unknowingly—accepts upon itself fixed limitations. Should the majority not willingly accept upon itself these limitations, it may become an iron-fisted governor, a tyrant, a dictator. We have often and habitually defined democracy as a government in which the majority rules. However, only a half-truth can be found in this definition. Unless the majority will employ its power to subdue—to negate the rights of the minority, to enslave it, and to throttle it—we would have majority rule but not a democracy. Then there would arise before us a vast oligarchy comprising a majority of the nation—but an oligarchy and nothing more. Therefore, it is incumbent that the majority accept upon itself a reduction of powers in order not to deprive the minority—even a minority of just one individual—the freedom to express and to disseminate their own opinions, so long as these opinions do not endanger the existence of the order and do not erode the rights of the neighbor.

There is yet another stricture within democracy. The government reduces its powers. One of the ideas of which much is spoken today is “limited sovereignty”—that each and every state should establish a boundary and a law code binding on the government. Together with its citizens, the democratic government does not have the right to unlimited sovereignty. It acknowledges the rights of the individual, which are an eternal gift to the individual and which the government has no right to annul. A supernal power gifted humanity these rights, and no government has the right to remove them from the individual. It is explicitly written in the Declaration of Independence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal,¹⁴⁵ that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these¹⁴⁶ are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness… —That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

And therefore, democracy is not a government of aristocrats and bosses but a government of law and order. The power and the domain of governmental heads are fixed and bound.

[213] The democratic government is not solid and frozen. It has flexibility and a knack for evolution and change, which obviously needs to come with the willpower of the majority and under the influence of the course of life and the new changing circumstances of a society.

Democracy is obviously a deeply optimistic system, a conviction of hope and security, designed for the living and for the future.

The foundational postulates upon which democracy stands as a kind of world outlook or way of life cannot be proven by science or rational philosophy. It is impossible to prove or to convince that every human has a supernal value and unique significance, or that the equality of humanity is a worthwhile and true ideal, or that every person has the right to liberty. Neither psychology nor history has the ability to prove these postulates. They are results of a religious, spiritual approach, and it is impossible to awaken a deep commitment to the sacred instruments of democracy without a religious vantage point.

What then is the bridge between the democratic system, as it is manifest in the political thought of our days, and our tradition? The Jewish faith lifts up as an important and fundamental principal—and in a known measure, it is the central and most important among them—the ethical aspect of life. The term “life” in our literature is not a neutral position borrowed from biology or just the name of some item or phenomenon. The term “life” is presented to us packed with multiple meanings and reverberations of moral concerns. The word signifies leadership and relationships matching the ethical character of the universe. “The wicked in their lifetime are called dead,”¹⁴⁷ for their lives are devoid of morality, and they are therefore bereft of value. “The fear of the Lord is the source of life.”¹⁴⁸ “Who is the person who desires life?” asks the singer of the songs of Israel, and his answer does not refer to health or to length of days in the usual sense.¹⁴⁹

“Upon three things does the world stand: upon truth, upon justice, and upon peace.”¹⁵⁰ You have not descended to the depths of life until you have dived beneath the stratum of politics and economics and have arrived at this central point—the central pillar of life—its ethical character. When the Creator first wished to create the universe, “the Holy Blessed One was looking at the Torah and created the world.”¹⁵¹ If there is any determinism in the course of history at all, is it not an ethical determinism? Are not the laws with which the Creator engraved the heavens and the earth, [214] the moon and the sun and the sea sturdy and set—even more solid than the law of ethics that guided the Creator when engraving humanity and world history? The aim of life is indeed holiness, justice, and peace. At that exact plane where a society or an individual brings to life and concretizes these principles is the very place where they succeed. These principles serve as a measuring stick for success in a moral universe. Conversely, against the metric whereby an individual or a society rebels against the world order and represses the will of the Creator—it is in that metric that these people commit treason against life, and they, in the end, will become enemies to personal fulfillment and success. Only two paths emerge before the individual or the collective, and they are the acceptance of this yoke or the disavowal of this yoke. The Torah calls these two paths “life” and “death,” or “blessing” and “curse.” “Behold, I am placing before you today a blessing and a curse.”¹⁵² “Behold, I have placed before you life and goodness, and death and evil.”¹⁵³ These matters were stated both in singular language and plural language in the Hebrew because the purpose of the collective’s living is not distinct in character from that of the individual. The ideals of justice and peace have a root in reality, in the order and nature of the world. They have a hold grounded in reality, and therefore the worldview of Judaism is like the vantage point of democracy through a deeply optimistic lens. Why was the world created with the Hebrew letter Bet and not Alef? Because Bet comes at the beginning of the Hebrew term barukh (blessed), and Alef comes at the beginning of the Hebrew term arur (cursed).¹⁵⁴

Democracy draws its ethical force from this vantage point. Its effects on political and economic life emerge from this foundational principle. A democratic society’s tendencies are linked and intertwined with this world outlook. The enemy of democracy in our days has felt that it is incumbent upon him to subvert this moral outlook should he wish to justify his actions and destructions. Ergo, the enemy wishes to corrupt the way of life that Israel has brought to the life of western culture. Treitschke, one of the thinkers who laid the foundations of fascism said, “Alle Rechtspflege ist eine politische Tätigkeit” (“All legal proceedings are a political activity”). The rights of a nation are fixed and carved only by political machinations.¹⁵⁵ And Spengler, from whose fountains fascistic leaders have drunk, arrived at the conclusion that “der Kampf ist die Urtatsache des Lebens, ist das Leben selbst” (“struggle is a fact of life; it is life itself”), that the source of life is strife—that strife and life are one and the same.¹⁵⁶

From this perspective, a state becomes the source of all human rights, for nothing is greater than it. In place of ethics, there are politics. In place of God, there is government. Our tradition and democracy value life as an ethical phenomenon. For us, these lofty ideals are a mirror to the reality in which the moral universe is made visible.

[215] In the worldview of Judaism, humanity assumes center stage, the foremost position. The formation of humankind is the headline of creation, and therefore, “A single human is deemed equal to all acts of creation.”¹⁵⁷ Humankind is qualitatively and profoundly distinguished from the rest of God’s creations, for humanity was created in God’s image.¹⁵⁸ “Humanity is beloved, for it was created in the image of God. This great affection is known to humankind for having been created in God’s image, as it is said ‘that God created humanity in God’s image.’”¹⁵⁹ Rabbi Yehoshu’a ben Levi depicts the cosmic importance of humanity in these words:

Whenever and wherever a human walks, a procession of angels march ahead of him and proclaim, “Make way for the icon of the Holy Blessed One!”¹⁶⁰

The signet of the Holy Blessed One is carved into the physical form of the human being. No power, government, or church may exploit this divine creation for any purpose. The divine image in which humanity was created gifts humanity with unique traits and talents. Humanity is an ethical-physical creation, and, when one subverts the ethical dimension within one’s self, then—as per the Talmudic expression—one “reduces the divine likeness.”¹⁶¹ Even the private individual holds cosmic value. “For this reason, Adam was created alone: in order to teach that Scripture regards anyone who destroys a single human soul is akin to one who has destroyed the whole world.”¹⁶² The harmony of the universe is incomplete when we deprive from it a single voice. Each person differs from their neighbor, and this difference enriches the plurality of communities and tones of a living society. “And therefore, Adam was created alone in order to speak of the greatness of the Holy Blessed One, for a human may press many coins with a single mint—each alike to one another—but the Holy Blessed Sovereign above pressed every human with the signet of the first human, and not one human is identical to another.”¹⁶³ Just as we have seen, democracy protects the minority and the individual alike and views the multiplicity of opinions and the societal diversity within it as a gain and not a loss. Our tradition does not conclude that a person is inherently perfect. Rather, the tradition determines that “all that is devised by the thoughts of a person’s heart is evil throughout time,”¹⁶⁴ and our tradition knows that humanity, just like everything created in the six days of creation, requires fine-tuning.¹⁶⁵

The Jewish religion emphasizes that every person has a special place in the universe. “The young and the old are equal before the Holy Blessed One.”¹⁶⁶ From the verse “You are standing… your leaders, your elders… your youth… and the resident aliens among you,”¹⁶⁷ our sages of blessed memory taught that God said, “Even though I have appointed for you leaders, elders, and officers; you are all equal before Me, for, in the text, it is said, ‘every person among Israel.’”¹⁶⁸ And the prophet Joel prophesied in God’s name: “Afterwards, I shall pour My spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and daughters shall be prophets. Your elders shall dream dreams. Your youths shall see visions. I shall even pour My spirit upon the slaves and maidservants in those days.”¹⁶⁹ The Lord is the one whom we address as “Hearer of prayer unto You, to whom all flesh comes.”¹⁷⁰ The midrash teaches:

When a poor person comes to say something to a man of flesh and blood, he does not listen, but, when a wealthy person comes to say something, immediately he listens and accepts him. But the Holy Blessed One is not like this. Rather, all are equal [216] before God—women, slaves, the poor, the wealthy. Know for yourself that what is written regarding Moses, teacher to all of the prophets, is written regarding the poor. Of Moses it is written, “A prayer of Moses, a man of God,”¹⁷¹ and, of the poor person, it is written, “A prayer of the poor as he starves before the Lord and pours out his words;”¹⁷² the former merits “A prayer,” and the latter merits “A prayer.”¹⁷³

Beneath all the differences that separate one human from another—cultural differences, social differences, economic differences—deep beneath them all is the common denominator that every human was created in the divine image. It is impossible to determine a foundation any deeper than this in a system that speaks in the name of liberty and human rights. Just as we have already mentioned, our tradition knows how to tell also of Cain and the generation of the flood and of primitive forces of destruction that still govern in the midst of humanity. Yet the Jewish faith does not deal with humanity only as it is, in its present stage and status, but also humanity as it ought to be and can be. Democracy too shares this trait.

The necessary outcome of this outlook is that society is obligated to secure within it a place for every person in accord with their cosmic importance. In brief, an honest and faithful society needs to grant the private individual privileges and societal value proportional to his cosmic value. The center of democracy is the individual for whose reputation, greatness, and progress society stands. Beneath the democratic system lies this theological substratum. When the Declaration of Independence speaks of “inalienable rights”¹⁷⁴—permanent rights within the nature and particularity of humankind—and states that the government does not have the right to limit them, this idea is certainly built on the theological or metaphysical assumption that defines the nature of humanity and its place in the cosmos.

Jewish law, in overturning punishments due to one who has transgressed, has come not merely to defend the harmed or the robbed but also has come to refine the soul of the harmer and the robber. It is appropriate to broaden the law and to fulfill “that which exceeds the letter of the law”¹⁷⁵ in this fashion of welcoming in the transgressor in influencing him to turn away from his path.¹⁷⁶ If an individual has stolen some beam and built it into their own home, we should not demand that the thief return that exact beam he stole; rather, he is permitted to compensate the costs of the stolen beam to the offended party.¹⁷⁷ Our sages stated very sharply, “Jerusalem was destroyed only on account of their having adjudicated according to the Torah alone.”¹⁷⁸ In the Talmud, it is made explicit that they established their laws according to the Torah and did not uphold a standard “exceeding the letter of the law.”¹⁷⁹ Rav once assigned someone to exceed the letter of the law, and that sage asked his master, “But is this the law?” Rav replied, “Yes! It is written: ‘So that you shall walk a path of good people.’”¹⁸⁰ Even within the wicked and the sinner the divine image is to be found, even if it has grown weak or withered. We do not seek the death of the wicked, for it is written, “Sins shall be obliterated from the earth.”¹⁸¹ “Sinners” is not inscribed in the verse! Rather we must seek the mercy necessary for them to repent.¹⁸² It is forbidden for one person to pray for wicked people to perish from the earth.¹⁸³ The Holy Blessed One does not rejoice [217] in the fall of the wicked. Amidst the exodus from Egypt, the Holy Blessed One, silencing the song of victory sung by the angelic hosts, chastised them, “The works of My hands are sinking in the sea, yet you are singing a song to Me!”¹⁸⁴ Regarding Passover, you cannot find in the Torah even one mention of joy, in contrast to Sukkot, which merits three mentions of joy.¹⁸⁵ Why is this? “On account of Passover being when the Egyptians died.”¹⁸⁶

Every individual holds a grand value fixed by the order of the universe. Even though a Canaanite slave was assigned to servitude, he was not allowed to a master who might shame or insult him.¹⁸⁷ And with regard to the Hebrew slave, is it not known that “anyone who has acquired a Hebrew slave is akin to one who has acquired a personal master?”¹⁸⁸ It is written, “because it is good for him to be with you.”¹⁸⁹ It is written in the Talmud:

He should be with you in food, and he should be with you in drink—such that you should not be eating clean bread while he eats deathly bread or that you drink fine wine and he drinks pre-aged wine or that you sleep on cushions while he sleeps on straw.¹⁹⁰

Both the foreigner and the worshiper of idols held legal rights and status in the early Jewish court.¹⁹¹

The delicate relationship with the private individual necessitates not a position advocating “Let the law erode the mountain from which it came!”¹⁹² Rather, we teach: “Just as the Holy Blessed One is merciful, you too shall be merciful.”¹⁹³ The world was created amidst the union of God’s adjudicatory character with God’s merciful character. The midrash reminds us that—throughout the Torah, Prophets, and Writings—when God mentions a law, lovingkindness holds God up from one side and justice holds God up from the other.¹⁹⁴ Democracy inherited from religion this conception of the importance of humanity—of every human. Because humanity is God’s creation, it is impossible to begin to develop or to refine it without freedom and liberty. The religious idea of freedom does not release humanity from responsibility. The yoke of God’s commandments is cast upon humankind, and only upon death is one free from these commands. Society’s aim is to remove the bronze yoke of subjugation so that a person may be free to accept upon one’s self the yoke of the heavenly Sovereignty.

Like democracy, religion aims for the individual to develop a sense of obligation from within, rather than from an external force. The philosopher Hermann Cohen had thought that the idea of the heavenly Sovereignty includes within it all of the ethical foundations that society requires. Society therefore needs to provide the opportunity for the individual to develop. One of the conditions for the development of humanity is a society of people, neighbors to the individual. Maritain, in his book Scholasticism and Politics, traces a line between individuality and personality, such that every human is independent.¹⁹⁵ This trait of individuality marks the individual and distinguishes him from others. However, this individual becomes a personality only through social relations and influences. Personality is a social concept. Without God and society, it is impossible to position a person such that they could approach any degree of personality. The trajectory of society is—not an individualism destined for anarchy or a collectivism that is destined for a suffocatingly mechanical egalitarianism—but a government whereby an individual, through social relationships, can acquire a sociable personality.

[218] In this regard, democracy follows the footsteps of our tradition. Our tradition upholds a specific, rigid system of laws and limits for a sitting government, and it is prohibited for a ruler to cross that fixed boundary. The classic saying in the “oral Torah of America” is that a democratic government is a “system of laws, not men”¹⁹⁶—which is to say that the law and not the legislator is the governing power in society. There is no need to provide excessive prooftexts to demonstrate that Judaism establishes justice and law as the center of life and not the persona of the ruler. Obviously, according to our modern conceptions, the biography of the Jewish people was never one with a democratic political government. This important orientation, however—that the government must submit before the law—is particular to Judaism. From one perspective, the government in ancient Israel was a monarchy, even though it is impossible to skip silently over the acrid words of the prophet Samuel. When the people of his generation came before Samuel with the request that he install a king over them, he protested against them with all of his might and, through his words, brought forth in powerful expression this orientation and tradition that had been implanted in the hidden corners of the Israelite spirit: “You will become his slaves! On that day, you will cry before your king whom you have chosen!”¹⁹⁷ The Israelite monarchy was definitively and qualitatively distinct from the kingdoms of antiquity. Josephus Flavius emphasized this distinction. It is demonstrably impossible to use the common word “monarchy” to express the unique quality that defined the Kingdom of Israel, and one is forced to invent or to rejuvenate some other word. In his book Against Apion, Josephus called the ancient Israelite government a “theocracy.” He wrote:

There are nations who transferred their governance to their king, this being a single judge. And there are those who assigned the securest position or class and delivered to them the governance of an oligarchy. And there are nations that assigned the populus to be the government. But our lawmaker was not attracted by these systems and methodologies and established for us a government that—if you permit us to use a forceful term—is possible to call a “theocracy.”¹⁹⁸

The king was not a sole judge. Above him was the law. When the nation desired to coronate Gideon, he said to them, “I will not rule over you, and my son will not rule over you. The Lord will rule over you.”¹⁹⁹

The tradition places limits on the privileges of the king. “Why was Abner punished? Because he should have protested Saul, but he did not.”²⁰⁰ Our sages of blessed memory emphasized the difference between sovereignty among the Jews and that among other nations. They taught:

The elders demanded rightfully, as it is said, “Give us a king to adjudicate over us,”²⁰¹ but the commoners in their midst ruined it, for it is said that they declared, “Then we ourselves shall be like all of the nations; our king will judge for us and process before us!”²⁰²

One can find in the evolving life of a society, in a pronounced form, a never-ending struggle between anarchy and theocracy—for there is no third pole. Theocracy, in its broadest sense, is a government subsumed as the law. Democracy, according to this view, is a theocracy. William Penn said, “Humanity is forced to choose the yoke of God or the yoke of tyrants; there is no other way.”²⁰³

[219] This tradition, that the king would be subject to the law, was alive and well in Israel. In particular, this tradition can be seen amidst the words and actions of the prophets. The prophet arose and spoke in the name of this tradition and was therefore unafraid to speak harsh, incisive words whenever the king turned away and distorted the law. Nathan reproved David. When Naboth refused to sell or to give away his vineyard to Ahab, Jezebel asked ironically, “Is now the time for you to perform ‘kingship’ over Israel?”²⁰⁴ Should such a matter trip up a king? Is it possible for a king to do wrong? Are not his actions those that are supposed to instill justice? Queen Jezebel, daughter of the Sidonian king, had an utterly different conception. Still, even though she had been a foreigner, she knew a powerful ancient tradition stood in Israel; she was compelled to deal cunningly and to steal the vineyard backhandedly. This tradition spoke forth through the larynx of Elijah when he charged Ahab, “Have you murdered and thus ‘inherited?’”²⁰⁵

This powerful tradition finds expression in the prophet Micah’s biting words directed at the leaders of the nation:

Listen, you leaders of Jacob and chiefs of the House of Israel! Is it not upon you to know the law? Haters of the good! Lovers of evil! Men who steal skin off the backs of others and flesh from their bones! You who have eaten the flesh of my nation and flayed their skin from upon them and shattered bones and sliced it all into a pot, like meat in a cauldron!²⁰⁶

Is it possible to find any expression more cutting or more scolding than this? The prophet likens the tyrannical chiefs to eaters of humanity and their governance to political and societal cannibalism! It is possible to find incisive words against those who serve in office for their own benefit or pleasure in many places in the Books of the Prophets. Huxley correctly noted that, over the course of several generations, the Hebrew Bible became a Magna Carta for the poor and the downtrodden, from which they drew their faith to resist tyranny.²⁰⁷

The kingdom of Israel was the only one in antiquity to abound in “don’t do” commandments restricting the king:

Rather, the king shall not have too many horses…. and shall not have too many wives and shall not let his heart go astray, and he shall not have far too much silver or gold… but he shall write for himself a copy of this Torah in a scroll, in the presence of the Levitical priests, and it shall be with him, and he shall read it all the days of his life so that he may learn to fear the Lord his God, to protect all of the words of this Torah and to fulfill these laws, without letting his heart get haughty and without turning away from any commandment to the right or to the left.²⁰⁸

Anyone who defies a kingdom is sentenced to death. Despite this, anyone who annuls the decree of the Sovereign because they are occupied with one mitzvah—even a minor mitzvah—is exempt,²⁰⁹ for, when faced with “the words of the master and the words of the servant, the words of the master take precedence.”²¹⁰ Maimonides²¹¹ rules:

It is a mitzvah for the king to honor those who study Torah, and, when the Sanhedrin or sages of Israel enter his presence, he should arise before them and seat them to his side…²¹² He should not conduct himself among the Jewish people with too haughty a heart. He should be gracious and compassionate to minors and adults alike, [220] going and coming with his possessions in all their grandeur. He should be sensitive to honor the dignity of even the youngest of the youth, and, when he speaks to the congregation in the plural, he should speak delicately…²¹³ He should always act humbly. The king may not drink to the point of drunkenness. Rather, he should occupy himself with the Torah and with the necessary affairs of the Jews day and night.²¹⁴

It is clear therefore that the power of the king was not unconditional and absolute. Like a priest, he was in a certain measure known as an emissary of the Merciful One.²¹⁵ No human may adjudicate solo among the Jewish people.²¹⁶ One sage was not too shaken to state so boldly that even the Holy Blessed One does not judge alone but negotiates with the heavenly hosts.²¹⁷

The central pillar of society is not one person or class of persons but the law and justice. The three matters upon which the world stands—truth, justice, and peace—are but one entity. When justice is fulfilled, truth is fulfilled, and peace is fulfilled.²¹⁸ One who bends the law disturbs the earth, for this is one of its legs.²¹⁹ Conversely, Scripture considers any judge who adjudicates the law to accord with the truest of truths to be a partner with the Holy Blessed One in the act of creation.²²⁰ The Holy Blessed One cannot rest the divine Presence upon Israel until wicked judges and officers have been done away with from the midst of the Jewish people.²²¹ A leader is granted not authority but servitude.²²² A judge must see one’s self as if a sword rests between their thighs and the underworld is open beneath them.²²³ When the people Israel appoint an unqualified judge, it is as if they have planted an idolatrous tree in the Jewish community.²²⁴ Therefore, King Jehoshaphat of Judah commanded the judges whom he installed, “See, what you are doing; it is not for humanity’s sake that you judge, but for the Lord who is with you in your pronouncement of law.”²²⁵

Democracy emphasizes not just the oneness of the Creator but also the oneness of humanity. One Creator formed the entire human species and not just a fraction of it. The dust comprising the entirety of the first human was gathered from the entirety of the world.²²⁶ In Jewish literature, there is never to be found any suggestion that anyone of this species is equal to only a fraction of humanity²²⁷ or that it would be appropriate to position that individual beneath the rung of humanity. The human race is one. The people Israel believed, as we know, that divine providence allotted to the Jewish people a special and central place in the history of the world and cast upon it a lofty sense of responsibility. However, the idea of the Jewish people’s chosenness has never negated the rights of other nations nor denied their ‘Oneness’ origin. Even among the remnant nations of the world, prophets and righteous people have arisen. “‘Your priests shall wear justice.’²²⁸ This refers to the righteous people among the world’s remnant nations, for they are priests to the Holy Blessed One.”²²⁹ Regarding the verse, “My beloved has descended into his garden,” our sages of blessed memory teach that the Holy Blessed One descended into the world to see and to shepherd the remnant nations [221] of the world and to pluck roses, the righteous among them.²³⁰ Books like Ruth and Jonah prove that the gates of repentance do not lock these nations out.²³¹ There is no racial doctrine in Judaism. “Anyone who rejects idol worship is called a ‘Jew.’”²³²

The relationship of the Torah to the foreigner demonstrates that the Jewish people knew to look beyond the borders of its land and its people and to extend a hand to all humans. Hermann Cohen emphasizes how critical it is for moral development when the law protects the rights of the foreigner. The foreigner and the outsider have rights not because they are members of a special nation or emerged from an elite race but because they are a member of the human species. We can find in the law of the foreigner the idea of the oneness of humanity.

Knowledge of the ubiquitous God—the Sovereign supreme over sovereigns ruling over other sovereigns—whose rulership precipitates across the whole planet has not been given so that nationalism and societal and political individuality would shrink away. Judaism’s framework has always been broad—comprehensive.

“The Lord loves the righteous.”²³³ Why does the Holy Blessed One love the righteous? For they share no single inheritance and are not a singular family. You would find that priests are of one patriarchal house, and Levites are of one patriarchal house—just as it says, “The house of Aaron, bless the Lord! The house of Levi, bless the Lord!”²³⁴ If someone seeks to become a kohen, they are unable; or if they seek to become a levi, they are unable. Why? Their father had not been a kohen or a levi! But if someone seeks to become a righteous person—even if they are a gentile—they can, for this is not about the patriarchal house! Therefore it is said, “Those who fear the Lord, bless the Lord!”²³⁵ The text does not state “the house of those who fear the Lord” but merely “those who fear the Lord.” It is not the patriarchal house but they themselves who have volunteered and come to love the Holy Blessed One; therefore, the Holy Blessed One loves them.²³⁶

In the history of the Jewish people there was no day like the day when the Torah was given, yet there is a day greater than it. “The downpour of rain is greater than the giving of the Torah, for the giving of the Torah was for the Jewish people alone, but the downpour of rain is for all nations and all domestic beasts, wild animals, and fowl.”²³⁷ This intriguing teaching demonstrates that the Jewish people had not only a universalist outlook but a deep understanding of the value of the material forces in societal life.

Our intention here is not to defend Judaism but to reveal a bit of the basis for democratic governance in Judaism’s worldview. Centuries ago, our nation’s spirit understood and accepted the deep foundations of democracy—long before the Allies welcomed the Jewish people in their midst. But nobody has the right to annul or to diminish the critical part that the Jewish people hold in the spiritual battle of our era. When a Jew seeks the roots of their culture, they become intimate with these ideals that we are presently fighting to uphold, in order to insure our future. With this certainty, the Jewish people live shattered, broken, and scattered. This may be our nation today, but our faith will not be given to submission or to despair, for the eyes of our people’s spirit see the line that unites our past with the future of the whole of humanity.

Rabbi Jonah Rank is President & Rosh Yeshivah of Hebrew Seminary: A Rabbinical School for Deaf & Hearing in Chicago, Illinois.

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1. ¹ On the number of registrants, see Rabbi Arthur H. Neulander, ed., Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly of America (henceforth, PRA), vol. VIII (Antin Press, 1944), 165; for the location, see 163. This volume covers the years 1941–1944.

2. ² PRA VIII, 163.

3. ³ PRA VIII, 164.

4. ⁴ PRA VIII, 165.

5. ⁵ PRA VIII, 165.

6. ⁶ PRA VIII, 163. Although this record indicates that this report is “on file in the archives of the Rabbinical Assembly,” it should be noted that, as of May 2, 2025, no such report has yet been found amidst the archives of the Rabbinical Assembly. My gratitude to the staff of the Rabbinical Assembly for their reviewing these archives.

7. ⁷ PRA VIII, 163.

8. ⁸ Joshua L. Trachtenberg, “Religious Activities,” in The American Jewish Year Book, vol. 44 (September 12, 1942–September 29, 1943/5703), 95–110, especially 105–106.

9. ⁹ See PRA VIII, 53.

10. ¹⁰ PRA VIII, 56–57.

11. ¹¹ PRA VIII, 57; and, in full, 120–128.

12. ¹² PRA VIII, 58–59.

13. ¹³ PRA VIII, 53.

14. ¹⁴ PRA VIII, 120.

15. ¹⁵ PRA VIII, 53.

16. ¹⁶ PRA VIII, 53.

17. ¹⁷ PRA VIII, 120–121.

18. ¹⁸ PRA VIII, 121.

19. ¹⁹ PRA VIII, 122.

20. ²⁰ PRA VIII, 122–123.

21. ²¹ PRA VIII, 123–124.

22. ²² PRA VIII, 124.

23. ²³ PRA VIII, 124.

24. ²⁴ PRA VIII, 126.

25. ²⁵ PRA VIII, 127. Kohn applied a similar argument regarding “the Arabs of Palestine,” who, he said, “should… have the same option that Jews have… either living in one of their own national states, of which the Arabs have several, or… enjoying full personal and group rights in the Jewish National Home in Palestine or wherever else they may choose...”

26. ²⁶ PRA VIII, 127.

27. ²⁷ PRA VIII, 128.

28. ²⁸ PRA VIII, 126.

29. ²⁹ PRA VIII, 127. Note that Rabbi Kohn’s phrase “to order the world after the Kingdom of God” appears to be his English translation of the duty listed in the Aleynu prayer, “לתקן עולם במלכות ש-די” (letakken olam bemalkhut Shaddai).

30. ³⁰ See Jacob Chinitz’s introduction in Morris Adler, The Voice Still Speaks: Message of the Torah for Contemporary Man, Jacob Chinitz, ed. (Bloch, 1969), xiii–xiv.

31. ³¹ Goldie Adler recalls that Joseph Adler once explained that he never wanted to stop his son from playing ball on Shabbat because he “never wanted [Morris] to have the feeling that religion was always in your way of… recreation.” Thomas Vincent LoCicero, Murder in the Synagogue (Prentice-Hall, 1970), 52.

32. ³² LoCicero, Murder in the Synagogue, 52.

33. ³³ LoCicero, 53.

34. ³⁴ LoCicero, 54.

35. ³⁵ LoCicero, 55–56. LoCicero shares that when a congregant had challenged Adler to convince her to keep a kosher home, he replied, “[I]f I have to convince you, then you shouldn’t do it. Only if you do it because you want to do it will it be good for you.” LoCicero, 69.

36. ³⁶ LoCicero, 56–57.

37. ³⁷ LoCicero, 57–58.

38. ³⁸ LoCicero, 60.

39. ³⁹ LoCicero, 60–61.

40. ⁴⁰ LoCicero, 61–62.

41. ⁴¹ LoCicero, 62–63.

42. ⁴² LoCicero, 64; and Eli A. Bohnen, “Rabbi Morris Adler ז״ל,” in PRA, vol. XXX (1966), 82–85, esp. 84.

43. ⁴³ LoCicero, 64–65. In her interviews with those who heard Adler preach, Nancy Savage found that no interviewees identified Adler’s speech as being “seldom ‘too fast’ or ‘too slow’ and that he “used voice like an actor.” Nancy Savage, “The Preaching Career of Rabbi Morris Adler With Special Attention to Selected Sermons, 1958–1966,” PhD dissertation (Wayne State University, 1971), 94.

44. ⁴⁴ LoCicero, 65.

45. ⁴⁵ Louis Finkelstein, “Foreword,” in Adler, The Voice Still Speaks, ix–x. Finkelstein also writes, “Perhaps the happiest time of his life, at least during the years that I knew him, was that which he spent in the Holy Land,” x.

46. ⁴⁶ The details of this shooting are covered thoroughly in LoCicero, 346.

47. ⁴⁷ Adler, The Voice Still Speaks, xv.

48. ⁴⁸ LoCicero, 66.

49. ⁴⁹ Finkelstein, “Foreword,” ix and x.

50. ⁵⁰ Adler, “In Memoriam—Rabbi Harry Z. Gordon,” PRA, vol. 7 (1940), 321–323.

51. ⁵¹ Adler, “In Memoriam—Rabbi Harry Z. Gordon,” PRA, vol. 7 (1940), 89–104.

52. ⁵² PRA VIII (1941–1944), viii.

53. ⁵³ PRA XI (1947), 19. In 1947, the Committee’s work included “encourag[ing] the purchase of Hebrew books by members of the Rabbinical Assembly;” producing “The Alon… a Hebrew information bulletin… contain[ing] reviews of Hebrew books, periodicals and news… in the Hebrew culture world” (51); “ensuring that material [presumably in the Hebrew language] be submitted” to the journal Conservative Judaism; “publish[ing] a Hebrew Annual [sic];” promoting “observance of the Shavua Ivri;” and “plan[ning] for Hebrew Art Programs for use in… Congregations… cooperation with the Hebrew Arts Committee of New York” (52).

54. ⁵⁴ PRA XII (1948), 17.

55. ⁵⁵ PRA XII, 35.

56. ⁵⁶ At the 1948 convention, when Rabbi Dr. Simon Greenberg (1901–1993)—who was scheduled to be announced as the new acting president of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America—offered a timely address about “יהודי אמריקה ומדינת ישראל” (titled in English “American Jewry and the New Jewish State”) (PRA XII, 13), Greenberg began by noting that he had intended to deliver this address in English but was inspired by recent events to switch over to Hebrew (229). On the announcement of his presidency, see Jewish Telegraphic Agency, “Dr. Simon Greenberg Named Acting President of Jewish Theological Seminary for 1948-49,” https://www.jta.org/archive/dr-simon-greenberg-named-acting-president-of-jewish-theological-seminary-for-1948-49. It should be noted that at the 1949 and 1950 Rabbinical Assembly conventions, no lectures were delivered in Hebrew.

57. ⁵⁷ PRA XIII, 15.

58. ⁵⁸ PRA XIII, 18.

59. ⁵⁹ PRA XIII, 46.

60. ⁶⁰ At the 1948 convention, Morris Adler was among those who responded to the Jewish legalist sketches of Rabbi Isaac Klein (1905–1979), who opened up his “Toward a Philosophy of Conservative Judaism,” for broader discussion. See PRA XII, 129–134, for Klein’s presentation, and 148–152 and 183–184 for Adler’s responses. During this discussion, Adler articulated his commitment to a Conservative rabbi’s education, tradition, and clientele. “Though I believe in… abrupt change, I do it with a great deal of pain,” he said. “I am cutting into tissue, living tissue which represents the life of my father.” Adler recognized that the seminary’s critical approach to rabbinic texts emphasized “that many influences penetrated into those spheres in which the Halakah [sic] was formed, [such] that it was not a self-created organism.” Inasmuch as “economic conditions… [and] all kinds of fashions and modes of behavior… were always a very important factor in the development of the Halakah,” the “new conditions” of modernity would demand “the idea of developing Judaism” (PRA XII, 149–151).

    As the “Discussion” responding to Klein proceeded, Rabbi Louis M. Epstein (1887–1949) proposed reforms for what was then called the Committee on Jewish Law (PRA XII, 167–174). Most of these resolutions were adopted, as was most of the resolution proposed by Rabbi Albert I. Gordon (1903–1968). The latter stated that the Rabbinical Assembly needed to clarify the “aims, goals, and purposes of the Conservative Movement,” that “the Committee on Jewish Law” include “varying points of view of the membership of the Rabbinical Assembly [to] be properly presented and recorded,” and that the “Committee… circulate any and all decisions, both majority and minority opinions, among the members of the Rabbinical Assembly” (PRA XII, 175–176). Epstein noted that the “Committee lacked… effectiveness” due to the immensity of the work and the time constraints on its membership and that, whereas the members of the Rabbinical Assembly “probably represents a dozen shades of theological opinion and religious conviction… [t]he Committee is… expected to meet every one of these diversified beliefs and demands… and… to meet half-way the demands of Jewish law and tradition...” (PRA XII, 167–168). In Epstein’s accepted proposals, the Committee would be diverse and representative of the span of the Rabbinical Assembly’s members, Committee members would be required “to attend at least four meetings a year, each for a duration of at least one full day, and shall accept one assignment, at least, for a thorough study and written report on a problem in Jewish law under consideration by the Committee” (PRA XII, 171). It was further decided that “[d]ecisions rendered by the Committee unanimously shall be binding on all the members of the Rabbinical Assembly” (PRA XII, 171–172).

    Epstein, who had led the charge of the major reforms to the Committee, could have been a logical next chair of the Committee, but he had passed away shortly before the 1949 convention (See PRA, vol. XIII [1949], 46). PRA does not clarify why Gordon was not installed as the next Chair of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards; however, inasmuch as 1949 is the year when Gordon completed his doctorate, the burden of the committee might have been too much for him at the time. The minutes alone cannot clarify, conversely, why specifically Adler—and not Klein or any other respondent to Klein—was assigned this position. As aforementioned though, Adler believed in advancing a practical philosophy for Conservative Judaism—blending traditional yearning and rituals with progressive learning and action—and was likely an attractive pick for chairing this impactful committee.

61. ⁶¹ PRA XII, 49.

62. ⁶² PRA XII, 56.

63. ⁶³ PRA XII, 56.

64. ⁶⁴ PRA XII, 112–137.

65. ⁶⁵ PRA XII, 138–155.

66. ⁶⁶ PRA XII, 156–164.

67. ⁶⁷ PRA XII, 165–171.

68. ⁶⁸ See PRA XIV (1950), 172–188.

69. ⁶⁹ See also—as reprinted in David Golinkin, ed., Proceedings of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards of the Conservative Movement 1927–1970: Volume Three: Responsa (Rabbinical Assembly and the Institute of Applied Halakhah, 1997)—Theodore Friedman, “Reevaluation of the Responsum on the Sabbath,” originally appearing in Rabbi Jerome Epstein, ed., The Sabbath (United Synagogue, 1969), 60–61/in Golinkin, 1186–1187; and Committee on Jewish Law and Standards, “Travel on the Sabbath: A Statement Adopted by the CJLS,” originally published in Conservative Judaism 14, vol. 3 (Spring 1960), 50/in Golinkin, 1188; and in accordance with the cataloguing system on the Rabbinical Assembly’s webpage for the responsa of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards as related to the Orach Chayyim section of the Shulchan Arukh (as accessed at https://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/jewish-law/committee-jewish-law-and-standards/wrh-hyym-orah-hayyim on March 19, 2026): Daniel Nevins, “The Use of Electrical and Electronic Devices on Shabbat,” OH 305:18.2012a; Elliot N. Dorff, “The Use of Electrical and Electronic Devices on Shabbat: A Concurring Opinion,” OH 305:18.2012b; Avram Reisner, “The Use of Electrical and Electronic Devices on Shabbat: A Dissenting Opinion,” OH 305:18.2012c; Elie Kaplan Spitz, “The Use of Electrical and Electronic Devices on Shabbat: A Dissenting Opinion,” OH 305:18.2012d; David J. Fine, Barry J. Leff, Marcus Mordecai Schwartz, and Chaim Weiner, “Mai Beinayhu? Driving Electric Cars on Shabbat,” OH 305:18.2023a; Marcus Mordecai Schwartz and Chaim Weiner, “A New Responsum on the Sabbath,” OH 305:18.2023b; Avram Israel Reisner, “Concurrence to ‘A New Responsum on the Sabbath,’” OH 305:18.2023h; David J. Fine, Barry J. Leff, “Electric Cars on Shabbat: A Renewed Responsum on the Sabbath,” OH 305:18.2023c; Elliot Dorff, joined by Emily Barton, “Concurring Opinion for the Two Teshuvot on Driving Electric Cars on Shabbat,” OH 305:18.2023d; and Daniel S. Nevins, Micah Peltz, “Stop & Go: A Combined Concurrence and Dissent on Shabbat Travel,” OH 305:18.2023e. See also—though not recorded as endorsed by the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards—Seymour Siegel, “United Synagogue Youth Kinnusim (and Travel on Shabbat),” in PRA XXXI (1967), 229–230.

70. ⁷⁰ Friedman succeeded Adler (after a brief time of their apparently co-chairing during some stretch between 1950 and 1951). Friedman remained chair until 1954, when Neulander succeeded him. Aside from when Neulander briefly split duties with Rabbi William Greenfeld (1906–1960) in the stretch of 1957–1958, Neulander did remain chair, until Ben Zion Bokser became chair briefly from 1959 through 1960 and again from 1963 until at least 1965. See Golinkin, 1541–1542.

71. ⁷¹ Goldie recalls Morris refusing to ride in a car on Shabbat “[a]s long as there is one member” of his synagogue who would not. She further recollects a six-month period when they lived beyond reasonable walking distance of their synagogue and Morris would sleep at the synagogue on Shabbat. LoCicero, 181.

72. ⁷² PRA XX (1960), 130–137, with responses at 137–143.

73. ⁷³ PRA XXI (1961), 219–221.

74. ⁷⁴ Morris Adler, “In Memoriam: Abraham M. Hershman,” in PRA XXIII (1959), 101–104.

75. ⁷⁵ Eli A. Bohnen, “Rabbi Morris Adler ז״ל,” in PRA XXX (1966), 82–85.

76. ⁷⁶ Finkelstein, “Foreword,” in Adler, The Voice Still Speaks, x.

77. ⁷⁷ In a posthumously published piece about the Yiddish word mensch (מענטש, literally “man,” and figuratively “kind person”), Adler said that, throughout the history of the Jews of Eastern Europe, “A mother would express the hope that her son would grow up to be a mentsh [sic]… The highest praise given a person was that he was truly a mentsh…” (Morris Adler, “On Being a Mentsh,” in Jewish Heritage 12, no. 1 (Fall 1969), 20.

78. ⁷⁸ Morris Adler, Great Passages from the Torah (Vail-Ballou, 1947), 8. Compare also Adler’s posthumous declaration that “[m]an is… the object of God’s love and concern.” He objects to the “apology” of “I am only human” as “a denial of religion,” for “the single small word ‘only’ is a masterpiece of… heresy and blasphemy.” Rather, he writes, “[b]eing ‘human’ represents a goal and an achievement.” Adler, “On Being a Mentsh,” 20.

79. ⁷⁹ Morris Adler, “Why We Fight,” in Morris Adler, May I Have a Word With You?, Goldie Adler and Lily Edelman, eds. (Crown Publishers, 1967), 18–19.

80. ⁸⁰ Morris Adler, “Why We Fight.”

81. ⁸¹ By the recollection of Goldie Adler, Rabbi Joseph Adler had been wont to liturgize not just his naturalization but his right to vote each Election Day, when “he’d put on his top silk hat and his cutaway… [and] say certain prayers that we say on a holiday: ‘Blessed are Thou, O Lord, our God, King of the Universe, Who has kept us alive and enabled us to reach this day.’” LoCicero, 51.

82. ⁸² Adler, “New Citizens,” May I Have a Word With You?, 76–77.

83. ⁸³ Adler, May I Have a Word With You?, 5.

84. ⁸⁴ Adler, “I Am the Future of My Father’s Past,” The Voice Still Speak, 32–36.

85. ⁸⁵ Adler, Free Men Cannot Remain Silent! Purim Sermon Preached by Rabbi Morris Adler Sabbath, March 13, 1954, II Adar 8, 5714 (Publications Fund of Congregation Shaarey Zedek, 1954), 2–3. Although Adler rarely mentioned by name the living people who most concerned him when his sermons verged on the political, and, despite the fact that Adler’s sermons were rarely ever published, Adler registered in this same sermon his unambiguous anger toward McCarthyist persecutions of suspected or otherwise accused communists. The Jewish people, he argued, “played the Mordecai role” as “mankind’s unfailing dissenter against every political and religious totalitarianism,” such that history uplifted “the Jew [as] the embodiment of… human freedom.” Calling “[t]he state of civil rights and freedom within our country… of global concern to men yearning… for freedom throughout the world,” Adler warned his congregation not to “tolerate a dilution… of the American way of life.” Adler, Free Men, 4–9.

86. ⁸⁶ Adler, “The Requirements of Leadership,” The Voice Still Speaks, 117–122.

87. ⁸⁷ Adler, The World of the Talmud (Maurice Jacobs, 1958), 14–15.

88. ⁸⁸ See the letters from Reuther to Adler in the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office: Walter Reuther Records, LR000261 Box 173: Folder 15—Adler, Rabbi Morris, 1953–67.

89. ⁸⁹ Walter Reuther Records. Adler likely hoped that Reuther would especially appreciate the commentary on the Talmud’s teachings on social justice as pertaining to labor and management in Adler, The World of the Talmud, 110–112.

90. ⁹⁰ Reuther, writing after several “months when the national election was at fever pitch,” thanked Adler for “the richness and the encouragement of your friendship,” protecting Reuther from “the brickbats and the abuses of the Joe Kamps and other hate mongers [sic].” Letter from Walter Reuther to Rabbi Morris Adler, dated December 18, 1958; found in the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office.

91. ⁹¹ See passim in the letters from Adler to Reuther in the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office.

92. ⁹² Reuther, though not Jewish, appears to have enjoyed sharing what Jewish knowledge he may have acquired through his friendship with Adler. When residing at “36 Benjamin Mitudela [sic] Street” in Jerusalem, Adler received from Reuther a letter dated April 16, 1965 and closing with an enthusiastic “Shalom!” (This letter is found in the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office.)

    Note that the friendship between the Reuthers and the Adlers outlasted Morris’ death. Goldie remained attached to Morris’ activities, earning an invitation to be among Walter Reuther’s guests at a UAW Special Convention, at which Reuther highlighted a report on collective bargaining that would be for Goldie “of particular interest.” Letter from Walter Reuther to Mrs. Morris Adler dated April 6, 1967, archived at the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office.

    Likewise, after Morris’ death, Goldie became more directly involved with B’nai B’rith’s Commission on Adult Jewish Education and is listed among its members in Jewish Heritage: A Quarterly for Adult Study after the death of Rabbi Adler between the fall of 1967 until the summer of 1968. See, e.g., Jewish Heritage 10, no. 2 (Fall 1967), 2; and Jewish Heritage 11, no. 1 (Summer 1968), 2. Jewish Heritage 9, no. 1 (Summer 1966) lists Rabbi Morris Adler as having been chairman of the Commission on Adult Jewish Education between 1963 and 1966. Prior to that, Morris Adler was listed on the Advisory Board as early as Jewish Heritage 4, no. 1 (Spring 1960), 2; and as late as Jewish Heritage 4, no. 4 (Spring 1962). In Jewish Heritage 2, vol. 1 (Spring 1959), Rabbi Adler is listed as a member of the National Committee of B’nai B’rith’s Department of Adult Education (a role he held since the debut issue for Fall–Winter 1957, 2. By Jewish Heritage 2, no. 2 (Fall 1959), Adler’s name does not appear—and the same is true of 2, no. 3 (Winter 1960). However, Adler held the distinction of being published in the very first issue with his “Are We Witnessing a Revival of Judaism?” See Jewish Heritage 1, no. 1 (Fall–Winter 1957), 27–30. The magnitude of Adler’s influence in B’nai B’rith’s adult educational resources is manifest on the imageless black cover of Jewish Heritage 8, no. 4 (Spring 1966), featuring in white letters:

    IN MEMORIAM

    RABBI MORRIS ADLER

    March 30, 1906 — MARCH 11, 1966

93. ⁹³ LoCicero, 66.

94. ⁹⁴ See letter from Louis Berry to “Friend,” dated December 3, 1965, in the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office. In this letter, one finds an outline of the congregation’s plans for celebrating the conferral of this degree—including a flight to and from New York, a brunch with Rabbi Adler, Chancellor Rabbi Dr. Louis Finkelstein, and Rabbi Dr. Max Arzt (1897–1975), aside from the convocation itself—all for $80.00.

95. ⁹⁵ This letter, dated January 10, 1966, is preserved in the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office. In this letter, Adler further quipped, “My sainted Mother-in-Law [sic] has always wanted a doctor of a son-in-law. At long last I have gratified her wish.”

96. ⁹⁶ See this letter from Morris Adler to Walter Reuther, dated December 17, 1965, in the Walter Reuther Library, UAW President’s Office.

97. ⁹⁷ Adler, May I Have a Word With You?, 76.

98. ⁹⁸ Adler, “The Last Sermon,” The Voice Still Speaks, 431–436.

99. ⁹⁹ Adler, “The Last Sermon,” 432.

100. ¹⁰⁰ Adler, “The Last Sermon,” 435.

101. ¹⁰¹ For one such example, consider this anecdote Adler sent from Jerusalem to his friends “Margie” (i.e., Marjorie) and Max Fisher, dated April 2, 1965:

     The other day I was walking on King George Ave [sic] when a man approached me and asked if I had change for fifty Israeli pounds in Lira. I looked in my pocket and found that I did not and expressed my regret. This was not the end of the matter. He asked me further, “Forgive me, Sir, are you not an American?” “Yes”, [sic] I answered. “Just our luck”—he muttered angrily before he walked away—“when Americans do come to Israel it is only the poor ones.” (Letter to “Margie” and Max Fisher, dated April 2, 1965, 2; archived in Walter Reuther Library, Max M. Fisher Papers [UP002350] Part 1, Series II: Correspondence Adler, Rabbi Morris, 1952–1965.)

102. ¹⁰² Printed in an undated letter found in the Center for Michigan Jewish Heritage, Rabbi Leo M. Franklin Archives of the Prentis Memorial Library of Temple Beth El of Bloomfield Hills, Michigan.

103. ¹⁰³ Waxman might have briefly been a formal teacher of Adler at some point. In an undated letter to a time when Hershman was still the senior Rabbi, Adler refers to himself as both “ידיד ותלמיד” (“friend and student”), but referring to himself as a “student” may have been Adler expressing humbleness. Letter found in the National Library of Israel Archives, ARC. 4* 1714 01 9, ארכיון ניסן וקסמן, (no. 990035983670205171).

104. ¹⁰⁴ Chavrusa 5:3 (Iyar 5721/April 1961), 6.

105. ¹⁰⁵ In The Reconstructionist, Adler writes regarding a “friend [who] belongs to the Orthodox wing of the Jewish community” who says to Adler, “You want your religion and your comfort too. Your views represent simply a marriage of convenience between your desire for Jewish affiliation and a pleasant and unstrained existence. Spare me the gallant talk; it is ease you want.” Adler subsequently responds that Orthodoxy is “the more comfortable path,” lacking any “struggle for answers, for you receive them ready-made from a wonderfully accommodating past.” On the other hand, Adler’s Conservative rabbinate requires him “to hew out… a way within the Jewish universe of experience and teaching, and yet remain faithful to one’s own spirit,” a process that is “arduous and painful.” Proclaiming that he “cannot relax on the featherbed of the past,” Adler, despite the “strain and effort,” opted for his dialectic approach to Judaism rather than “an uncritical and total acceptance of what is handed down.” Morris Adler, “In Passing,” The Reconstructionist 25, no. 18 (January 8, 1960): 30–31.

106. ¹⁰⁶ Letter found in the National Library of Israel Archives.

107. ¹⁰⁷ Undated letter, noting Rabbi Hershman as still working at Shaarey Zedek. National Library of Israel Archives.

108. ¹⁰⁸ Undated letter, noting Rabbi Hershman as still working at Shaarey Zedek. National Library of Israel Archives.

109. ¹⁰⁹ Letter dated without year but noting the Friday preceding the Shabbat of reading Parashat Vayyiggash. National Library of Israel Archives.

110. ¹¹⁰ Undated letter. National Library of Israel Archives.

111. ¹¹¹ See undated letter—though with indication of the service of Rabbi Milton Arm at Congregation Shaarey Zedek (1953–1957)—from the Walter Reuther Library, Emma Schaver Papers UP002185 Box 11 Folder 4—Correspondence: Rabbi and Mrs. Morris Adler, 1949-88. On Arm’s dates, see Rabbi Herbert A. Yoskowitz, “The Histories of Congregation Ahavas Achim and Congregation Beth Aaron,” in Michigan Jewish History 52 (Fall 2012), 18; and Elaina Nelson and Elizabeth Spaide, “Beth Israel Ner Tamid Synagogue” (May 5, 2022) as accessed at https://web.uwm.edu/lib-omeka-gatheringplaces/files/original/793ff079871a6562ae133b358c57f3b6.pdf on March 19, 2026.

112. ¹¹² See Chinitz, xiii–xiv.

113. ¹¹³ See Adler, The Voice Still Speak, xviii. On the relationship between Adler and Chinitz, see, e.g., Rabbi Herbert A. Yoskowitz, “The Histories of Congregation Ahavas Achim and Congregation Beth Aaron,” in Michigan Jewish History 52 (Fall 2012), 16. See examples of Adler’s Ashkenazic pronunciation in Adler, The Voice Still Speaks, 120 (where וירא בסבלתם is rendered “Vayar Besivlosom,” rather than vayyar besivlotam); see also Adler, The Voice Still Speaks, 128.

114. ¹¹⁴ See the following, all in Hebrew, in PRA: Paltiel Dickstein, “To What Extent is Jewish Civil Law Adapted to Modern Life in Palestine?” vol. 1 (1927): 74–76; Abraham M. Hershman, “Rabbi Levine, His Life and His Activities on Behalf of Modern Hebrew in the United States,” vol. 6 (1939): 98-103; Herman Hailperin, “Intellectual Relations Between Christian and Jew with Special Reference to Rashi and Nicholas de Lyra,” vol. 7 (1940): 215–223; Louis M. Epstein, The Agunah Question, vol. 7 (1940): 301–311; Israel Efros, “In Memoriam: Dr. Julius Kaplan,” vol. 7 (1940): 317–320; Elias Charry, “Opening Prayer,” vol. 7 (1940): 65–66; Max Kadushin, “Concept of the Chosen People in Rabbinic Literature,” vol. 8 (1941–1944): 20–25; Hillel Bavli, “Peretz Smolenskin,” vol. 8 (1941–1944): 98–106; Zevi Scharfstein, “Jewish Education at the Crossroads,” vol. 8 (1941–1944), 107–115.

115. ¹¹⁵ Finkelstein, “Foreword,” ix.

116. ¹¹⁶ My gratitude to Rabbi Dr. Raysh Weiss for improving my translation of Adler’s German quotes.

117. ¹¹⁷ Included in light of the current difficulty in accessing PRA.

118. ¹¹⁸ In 1969, Chinitz commented that Adler “[o]ften… preached from notes rather than a complete text” and that “[i]n the last seven years or so [of his life], he told me, he had stopped writing his sermons in advance,” for “if the idea is clear in the mind of the preacher, he should be able to deliver the message without any notes.” (Chinitz, in Adler, The Voice Still Speaks, xviii.) On the relationship between Adler and Chinitz, see, e.g., Rabbi Herbert A. Yoskowitz, “The Histories of Congregation Ahavas Achim and Congregation Beth Aaron,” in Michigan Jewish History 52 (Fall 2012): 16.

119. ¹¹⁹ Midrash Sekhel Tov (Buber) on Genesis 17:14.

120. ¹²⁰ Adler’s numerous contributions to The Reconstructionist include “Premature Kehillahs,” in 3, no. 7 (June 11, 1937): 11–15; “How Free—Free Speech?”; in 5, no. 4 (April 7, 1939; Nisan 18, 5699): 12–16; “Correspondence,” in 5, no. 10 (June 30, 1939; Tammuz 13, 5699): 15; “The Chaplain and the Rabbi,” in 11, no. 4 (April 6, 1945): 9–13; “The Perils of Victory,” in 11, no. 9 (June 5, 1945): 25–27; “Ends Mean Means,” in 11, no. 17 (January 11, 1946): 9–13; “New Directions and New Dimensions—Reflection on the U.J.A.,” in 12, no. 9 (June 14, 1946): 17–23; “The Functions of a Jewish Community,” in 13, no. 11 (October 3, 1947): 9–13; his recurring column entitled “In Passing” in 25, no. 13 (October 30, 1959): 30; 25, no. 18 (January 8, 1960): 30–31; and 25, no. 20 (February 5, 1960): 25–26; “An Anthology of Jewish Thought: Review of Arthur Hertzberg’s Judaism,” in 28, no. 14 (November 16, 1962): 28–30; and “Second Thoughts Reconsidered,” in 29, no. 10 (June 28, 1963): 29–31.

     When Adler was shot—but had not yet been pronounced dead—Rabbi Ira Eisenstein (1906–2001), the editor of The Reconstructionist, printed an ad hoc editorial anticipating fellow Reconstructionist thinkers’ impending mourning for Adler: “[a] learned, courageous Jewish leader, Rabbi Adler has earned the love and respect of a community that extends from Detroit, his city of residence, across the oceans, as far as Japan and Israel.” As a learned society that largely advocated for peaceful activities and praised noble intellectual pursuits, the anonymized collective voice of The Reconstructionist lamented further “the double tragedy” that “[t]he gun that felled Rabbi Morris Adler… was fired by a brilliant young man (Phi Beta Kappa, Woodrow Wilson Fellowship).” Eisenstein thus asked, “What shall we say of the civilization that produces brilliant young men who have access to guns?” See “Rabbi Morris Adler: What Shall We Say?” in The Reconstructionist 32, no. 2 (March 4, 1966): 6.

121. ¹²¹ “World outlook” matches the phrasing Adler uses in “Answering With Our Life,” in May I Have a Word With You? (197–202).

122. ¹²² Contemporary usage of the term Weltanschauung can be found in the writings of Morris Adler’s colleague (and co-author with Adler on “Responsum on the Sabbath,” colloquially often called “the driving teshuvah” for its endorsement of travel by car to synagogue on Shabbat) Rabbi Dr. Jacob Agus, who, like Adler, was born in Eastern Europe, and studied at Yeshiva University prior to studying at the Jewish Theological Seminary. For such usage, see, e.g., Jacob B. Agus, “The Conservative Movement,” in Steven T. Katz, ed., The Essential Agus: The Writings of Jacob B. Agus (New York University Press, 1997), 483–523. That such a term was essential in the precursor intellectual trends out of which Conservative Jewish thought emerged, see, e.g., the 1898 article of Hermann Cohen, “Das Judentum als Weltanschauung” (1898), reprinted in Dieter Adelmann, “Reinige dein Denken:” Über den jüdischen Hintergrund der Philosophie von Hermann Cohen (Görge K. Hasselhoff, ed. (Königshausen & Neumann, 2010), 322–23.

123. ¹²³ For one such passage employing both masculine and gender-neutral terms, consider the following example:

     Detachment from one’s fellow men, an ancient Jewish sage taught, spells death (human not physical) for the individual. “Associate or perish” is an inviolable law of human life. (Morris Adler, “The Creative Uses of the Past: An Introduction,” in Morris Adler and Lily Edelman, eds., Jewish Heritage Reader [Taplinger Publishing, 1965], ix–xiii.)

124. ¹²⁴ For ease of reference back to the original printing of this text, I have included the pagination of the Hebrew from the 1944 section of PRA VIII. Adler’s Hebrew text begins on page 207. Corresponding page numbers appear in the translation.

125. ¹²⁵ Although Adler had a Hebrew middle name (חיים, Chayyim), appearing in the Hebrew translation—it is not clear to me that he had a middle name in English.

126. ¹²⁶ Adler and his late teacher Moshe HaLevy (also spelled Halevi) shared not only a first name in both Hebrew and English but a Zionist spirit, a talent for scholarship, a penchant for the Hebrew language, and a Russian birthplace. See Naomi W. Cohen, “‘Diaspora Plus Palestine, Religion Plus National:’ The Seminary and Zionism, 1902–1948,” in Jack Wertheimer, ed., Tradition Renewed vol. 2 (Jewish Theological Seminary, 1997), 113–176; David Kaufman, “Jewish Education as a Civilization: A History of the Teachers Institute,” in Jack Wertheimer, ed., Tradition Renewed vol. 1 (Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1997), 565–630; “Morris D. Levine, Professor, 54, Dies; He Was Teacher of Hebrew and Bible at Jewish Theological Seminary of America,” New York Times, December 9, 1935. In contrast to Adler, who would come to be known for his rhetoric—Rabbi Morris D. Levine, as HaLevy had been known in English, had moved to the United States in his late teenage years, never lost his Russian accent and was accordingly subjected to derision, with Mordecai Kaplan declaring “his weakest point preaching.” Nonetheless, Kaplan had hired Levine in 1913 to teach at the Teachers Institute of the Jewish Theological Seminary, for, as Kaplan would recall, “none was as able as he was to introduce the high standard of knowledge of Hebrew that I was anxious to set up.” See David Kaufman, “Jewish Education as a Civilization: A History of the Teachers Institute,” in Jack Wertheimer, ed., Tradition Renewed vol. 1 (Jewish Theological Seminary, 1997), 565–630; “Morris D. Levine, Professor, 54, Dies,” New York Times, December 9, 1935. Although Levine was easily identified as a Hebraist, he would instruct students in diverse fields of study, including Bible (despite not being trained in critical biblical scholarship) and Talmud. See Alan Mintz, “The Divided Fate of Hebrew and Hebrew Culture at the Seminary,” in Wertheimer, vol. 2, 81–112; and Kaufman, 591.

127. ¹²⁷ Deuteronomy 32:25.

128. ¹²⁸ Deuteronomy 32:25.

129. ¹²⁹ Although the footnotes to this lecture attempt to fill in citations that Adler omitted, not all of Adler’s references could be easily found.

130. ¹³⁰ The phrase “עם ישראל,” translated here and elsewhere as “the nation Israel” or “the nation of Israel” does not refer to the Jewish State of Israel, which had not yet been founded. References to Israel, throughout this lecture, are references to the Jewish people.

131. ¹³¹ Eykhah Rabbah 2:7 (Vilna).

132. ¹³² Irwin Edman with Herbert Schneider, Fountainheads of Freedom: The Growth of the Democratic Idea (Reynal & Hitchcock, 1941).

133. ¹³³ Note that Adler himself does not cite Hosea in this lecture outside of this reference. Micah will be quoted below.

134. ¹³⁴ Adler presumably did not suggest to his Conservative rabbinic audience that Christianity is a form of Judaism so much as to suggest—as is general scholarly consensus—that ancient expressions of Judaism were subsumed into what would later become Christianity. See, e.g., Daniel Boyarin, The Jewish Gospels: The Story of the Jewish Christ (The New Press, 2012).

     Nonetheless—although Adler did not frequently speak of America as a land of Judeo-Christian values—he did understand the fate of American Judaism as in some ways tied to its treatment at the hands of Christian neighbors. In his speech “If I Were Christian,” delivered as a “Brotherhood Week Address” at Detroit’s Central Methodist Church while he lived in Southfield, Adler expressed his belief that religious affiliation in the world may be accidental but that the intentional pursuit of knowledge should bring multifaith harmony:

     I happen to be a Jew. That is the most incidental and accidental fact about me. I did not make that choice. Had I been born into another home I would have been the follower of another faith. Given the same personal inclinations but placed in another environment from birth I might have been a Moslem teacher or a Christian minister. I must therefore not impart to my Jewishness and to the accident of birth an absoluteness from which all others are shut out. I must live my Jewish life with the humility that derives from the knowledge that it was neither my choice nor my insistence which determined my Jewishness…

     If I were a Christian, I would similarly recognize the accident of my Christian birth…

     I would journey back through the years and come to Him who is regarded as the Saviour. I would sympathetically study His day and the society in which He chose to appear in earthly form. I would scrupulously seek to separate the misunderstanding with which obscurity always seeks to screen the truth. I would realize that His appearance, like His crucifixion, was part of a great divine plan, and that the one without the other would not have permitted the full unfolding of that sacred and significant drama. I would then realize that the Jews are the Christ-bearing and not the Christ-killing people.

     And I would go back behind the earthly appearance of the Saviour to study the history and forces which dictated the choice of Judea as the site of His advent… I would realize that the Jewish people has played a high part in the drama of Christianity’s origin and development. I would make my ears sensitive to the accents of Israel… a new sense of kinship would fill me, and I would realize the Jew is my brother in the high adventure of establishing the Kingdom of Heaven on earth… From across the seas I would hear cries of Jewish oppression, and in our very midst I would hear poisoned voices, and see the performance of poisoned deeds of unbrotherly feeling and discrimination.

     With a sudden insight I the Christian would realize that here was a problem, a problem not alone for the Jew, a problem too for me the Christian because it is my tradition that is attacked in the person of my brother the Jew… The Fatherhood of God, the brotherhood of man, dignity of the individual, sanctity of life, love, justice—these are under heavy attack.

     It is also my problem because it is never the Jew alone who is attacked. The concentration camps of the oppressors of men are choked with Christians as well as Jews, with liberals, pacifists, idealists, democrats of all denominations. The Jew may be the first but he is never the sole victim.

     I would humbly and penitently bear my share of the blame. I would understand that the seeming readiness of people to believe the most fantastic absurdities about the Jew is the outgrowth of centuries of my misunderstanding…

     I would first seek deliberately and religiously to purge my spirit of any inherited prejudices, of dark thoughts…

     I would try to help the Jew be as Jewish as I the Christian would wish to be Christian. (Morris Adler, “If I Were Christian,” in May I Have a Word With You?, 47–51, esp. 47–49.)

135. ¹³⁵ Babylonian Talmud, Pesachim 6b.

136. ¹³⁶ Mishnah, Avot 5:22.

137. ¹³⁷ Max Kadushin, Organic Thinking: A Study in Rabbinic Thought (Bloch Publishing House, 1938).

138. ¹³⁸ As appearing in the prayer Aleynu—as similarly quoted in the previous year in Rabbi Eugene Kohn’s aforementioned address at the Rabbinical Assembly convention of 1942; see PRA, VIII, 127.

139. ¹³⁹ Solomon Goldman (שלמה גולדמן), The Jew and the Universe (היהודי והיקום) (Dvir, 1940). Rabbi Dr. Solomon Goldman—President of the Zionist Organization of America from 1938–940 and rabbi of Chicago’s Anshe Emet Synagogue from 1929 until his death in 1953—wrote several books of Jewish thought in his lifetime and was what Mel Scult has labeled “a key disciple” of Mordecai Kaplan. See “Funeral Services for Rabbi Solomon Goldman Today in Chicago,” Jewish Telegraphic Agency, May 18, 1953, https://www.jta.org/archive/funeral-services-for-rabbi-solomon-goldman-today-in-chicago, accessed March 10, 2026; and Mel Scult, Communings of the Spirit, Volume II: The Journals of Mordecai M. Kaplan, 1934–1941 (Wayne State University, 2016), 644.

140. ¹⁴⁰ Note that Adler here lightly contradicts Goldman’s argument cited two sentences earlier.

141. ¹⁴¹ Adler presumably is referencing here the United States’ Constitutional Compromise of 1787, which determined a mathematical formula whereby state populations would be counted and thereby accordingly assigned a certain (approximately) proportional number of seats in the House of Representatives, a certain number of electoral votes, and certain tax demands. Whereas legislators representing states prohibiting slavery generally wished that slaves—denied the right to vote—would not be counted at all, this Compromise allowed states permitting slavery to count slaves as 3/5 of a person for the purposes of the census.

142. ¹⁴² Exodus 30:15.

143. ¹⁴³ See Mishnah, Avot 4:11.

144. ¹⁴⁴ Louis Dembitz Brandeis (1856–1941) served as an Associate Justice on the Supreme Court of the United States from 1916 through 1939. This quote may be a reference to several statements by Brandeis, including “Throughout the civilized world a developing sense of social responsibility has compelled the community to support in some manner its needy members, whatsoever the cause of their inability to support themselves…” and “the form and aims of our Government should lead us to action, as well as the sense of social responsibility.” See Louis D. Brandeis, Business—A Profession (Small, Maynard & Company; 1914), 51 and 52.

145. ¹⁴⁵ In Adler’s Hebrew translation of the Declaration of Independence, he substitutes “equal” with “בצלם אחד” (“in the image of the One God”).

146. ¹⁴⁶ In Adler’s Hebrew translation of the Declaration of Independence, he omits “among these.”

147. ¹⁴⁷ For a similarly phrased and early expression of this aphorism, see, dated to the second to third century, Midrash Tanna’im on Deuteronomy 17:6, at “יומת המת” (“the dead will be killed”).

148. ¹⁴⁸ Proverbs 14:27.

149. ¹⁴⁹ Psalm 34:13 contains the “question,” with what Adler likely presumed would be the answer in the following verses, pertaining to ethical speech, decreasing any association with wickedness, and pursuing moral conduct.

150. ¹⁵⁰ Mishnah, Avot 1:18.

151. ¹⁵¹ Genesis Rabbah 1:1.

152. ¹⁵² Deuteronomy 11:26.

153. ¹⁵³ Deuteronomy 30:15.

154. ¹⁵⁴ Jerusalem Talmud, Chagigah 2:1.

155. ¹⁵⁵ Though the antisemitic historian Heinrich von Treitschke (1834–1896) had long since passed, his quote had been wont to resurface, even as recently as 1936 when then-Chief of the Nazi Party Liaison Office Rudolf Hess (1894–1987) had shared this exact quote in the presence of the German lawyers conference, the Deutsche Juristentag. See Hans Kohn, “The Totalitarian Philosophy of War,” in Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 82 (1940): 57–72.

156. ¹⁵⁶ The German mathematician Oswald Spengler (1880–1936) was himself a critic of the Nazi Party on account of its racism and antisemitism. For one such attribution of Spengler’s quote, see, e.g., Albrecht Betz, “Oswald Spenglers Untergang des Abendlandes,” in Deutschlandfunk, May 13, 2012, https://www.deutschlandfunk.de/oswald-spenglers-untergang-des-abendlandes-100.html, accessed March 17, 2026.

157. ¹⁵⁷ Avot DeRabbi Natan Version A, ch. 31.

158. ¹⁵⁸ Throughout Adler’s writings, the notion that humanity was created in the divine image (as per Genesis 1:26).

159. ¹⁵⁹ Mishnah, Avot 3:14, citing Genesis 9:6.

160. ¹⁶⁰ Midrash Tehillim 17 and Yalkut Shim’oni 670.

161. ¹⁶¹ See Genesis Rabbah 34:14 and Babylonian Talmud, Yevamot 63b.

162. ¹⁶² Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 37a.

163. ¹⁶³ Mishnah, Sanhedrin 4:5.

164. ¹⁶⁴ Genesis 6:5.

165. ¹⁶⁵ Paraphrasing Genesis Rabbah 11:6.

166. ¹⁶⁶ Exodus Rabbah 40:4.

167. ¹⁶⁷ Deuteronomy 29:9–10.

168. ¹⁶⁸ Tanchuma Devarim, Nitzavim 5.

169. ¹⁶⁹ Joel 3:1–2.

170. ¹⁷⁰ Psalm 65:3.

171. ¹⁷¹ Psalm 90:1.

172. ¹⁷² Psalm 102:1.

173. ¹⁷³ Exodus Rabbah 21:4.

174. ¹⁷⁴ Note that the Declaration of Independence calls these “unalienable rights.” Adler interrupts his flow of Hebrew here to employ these very English words before resuming in Hebrew.

175. ¹⁷⁵ See Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzi’a 30b.

176. ¹⁷⁶ Adler’s Hebrew phrasing “שישוב מדרכו” (“that he should return from his path”), translated above as “to turn away from his path,” clearly references a process of teshuvah (תשובה, “repentance”), the notion that the sinner will move away from sin and choose a more pious path. Inasmuch as Adler is speaking of both Jewish values and democracy as a universal moral outlook, the translation above has toned down the pietistic valence of the Hebrew.

177. ¹⁷⁷ See Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Gezeilah Va’aveydah 1:5.

178. ¹⁷⁸ Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzi’a 30b.

179. ¹⁷⁹ Bava Metzi’a 30b.

180. ¹⁸⁰ Bava Metzi’a 83a, citing Proverbs 2:20.

181. ¹⁸¹ Psalm 104:35.

182. ¹⁸² See Babylonian Talmud, Berakhot 10a; and Maharsha, Chiddushey Aggadot, on Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 10a.

183. ¹⁸³ Although Adler’s text cites Midrash HaGadol, Vayyera, it is unclear which passage he would be referencing regarding prayers specifically against the welfare of enemies, as cursing one’s enemies appears to be lauded there. However, one might find a slightly more appropriate sentiment in Midrash HaGadol, Va’era, commenting on Exodus 8:5, see rak bay’or tisha’arnah (“רק ביאר תשארנה”), regarding Moses’ prayer that the frogs of the second plague not harm Pharaoh. Most likely though, Adler was quoting—despite how rare it was for him to cite mystical texts—Midrash Ne’alam in Zohar I:105a on Vayyera, where the exact teaching in question (save some negligible changes in language) does appear.

184. ¹⁸⁴ Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 39b.

185. ¹⁸⁵ See Deuteronomy 16:11, 14, and 15.

186. ¹⁸⁶ Yalkut Shim’oni, Emor 654.

187. ¹⁸⁷ See Babylonian Talmud, Niddah 47a, regarding the slave of Shemu’el.

188. ¹⁸⁸ Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 20a.

189. ¹⁸⁹ Deuteronomy 15:16.

190. ¹⁹⁰ Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 20a.

191. ¹⁹¹ Adler cites here Isaac Herzog, The Main Institutions of Jewish Law vol. 1 (Soncino, 1939), 41.

192. ¹⁹² Tosefta, Sanhedrin 1:2 (Zuckermandel)/1:3 (Vilna).

193. ¹⁹³ Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 14a.

194. ¹⁹⁴ Midrash HaGadol, Va’era, on Genesis 18:19; see lema’an havi Adonai al Avraham et asher dibber alav (“למען הביא ה' על אברהם את אשר דבר עליו”).

195. ¹⁹⁵ Perhaps of heightened interest to Morris Adler given that it was translated into English by the similarly named Jewish-born philosopher Mortimer J. Adler (1902–2001)—Scholasticism and Politics by the Catholic theologian Jacques Maritain (1882–1973) deals heavily with Christian philosophy and democracy. Jacques Maritain, Scholasticism and Politics, Mortimer J. Adler, trans. and ed. (Macmillan, 1940).

196. ¹⁹⁶ In early 1776, John Adams published his Thoughts on Government, in which he wrote, “the very definition of a Republic, is ‘an Empire of Laws, and not of Men.’” Note that Adler, in his Hebrew lecture, says this phrase in English.

197. ¹⁹⁷ I Samuel 8:17–18.

198. ¹⁹⁸ See Josephus Flavius, Against Apion II:17 for small differences between Adler’s translation and the original.

199. ¹⁹⁹ Judges 8:23.

200. ²⁰⁰ Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 20a.

201. ²⁰¹ I Samuel 8:6.

202. ²⁰² I Samuel 8:20. The blockquote itself is from the Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 20b.

203. ²⁰³ It is unclear if the Quaker theologian William Penn (1644–1718) ever said such a quote—more commonly rendered as (more briefly) “Men must be governed by God or they will be ruled by tyrants.” For such an attribution, see, e.g., Virginia Ely, ed., I Quote: A Collection of Ancient & Modern Wisdom & Inspiration (Fleming H. Revell Co., 1947), 189.

204. ²⁰⁴ I Kings 21: 7. Although many translations presume Jezebel’s words were not a question, Abrabanel and Metzudat David assume these words are asked rather than stated.

205. ²⁰⁵ I Kings 21:19. Note that these words are not Elijah’s own, but the words God commands Elijah.

206. ²⁰⁶ Micah 3:1–3.

207. ²⁰⁷ The full quote generally attributed to the English biologist Thomas Huxley (1825–1895) goes (approximately) as follows: “The Bible has been the Magna Carta of the poor and oppressed. The human race is not in a position to dispense with it.” See, e.g., Bill Bradfield, ed., On Reading the Bible: Thoughts and Reflections of Over 500 Men and Women, from St. Augustine to Oprah Winfrey (Dover Publications, 2005), 58.

208. ²⁰⁸ Deuteronomy 17:16–20.

209. ²⁰⁹ See, e.g., Yishai Wiener, Bigdey Yesha on Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayyim 146:2.

210. ²¹⁰ Midrash HaGadol on Genesis 3:17, see vattokhal min ha’etz asher tzivvitikha lemor lo tokhal mimmennu.

211. ²¹¹ The Hebrew text accidentally references Nachmanides.

212. ²¹² Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim 2:5.

213. ²¹³ Hilkhot Melakhim 2:6.

214. ²¹⁴ Hilkhot Melakhim 3:5.

215. ²¹⁵ That the king is such an emissary of the Divine is taught rarely, but see the nineteenth-century Chokhmat Shelomoh on Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayyim 589:1. The idea is questioned by Rabbi Yisra’el Gostman (1908–1991) in Kontres Shi’urim on Yevamot, Kontres 9, Shi’ur 4, n. 12. That a priest is such an emissary is more commonly taught; see, e.g., Malbim on I Samuel 2:27; see vayyavo ish Elohim.

216. ²¹⁶ See Mishnah, Avot 4:8.

217. ²¹⁷ Palestinian Talmud, Sanhedrin 1:1 (1b in Vilna).

218. ²¹⁸ Palestinian Talmud, Ta’anit 4:2 (in Vilna).

219. ²¹⁹ Deuteronomy Rabbah 5:1.

220. ²²⁰ Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 10a.

221. ²²¹ Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 139a.

222. ²²² See Babylonian Talmud, Horayot 10a–b.

223. ²²³ Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 7a (near end of page).

224. ²²⁴ Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 7b.

225. ²²⁵ II Chronicles 19:6.

226. ²²⁶ Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 38a–b.

227. ²²⁷ See above, note 141.

228. ²²⁸ Psalm 132:9.

229. ²²⁹ Adler cites Yalkut Shim’oni on Psalms 298; however, this appears in Yalkut Shim’oni on Isaiah 429.

230. ²³⁰ Palestinian Talmud, Berakhot 2:8 (5b–c).

231. ²³¹ This idea is rarely or never presented in classic rabbinic literature. However, see, from the late eighteenth century, Rabbi Chayyim Yosef David Azulai’s Petach Eynayim on Niddah 30b.

232. ²³² Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 13a.

233. ²³³ Psalm 146:8.

234. ²³⁴ Psalm 135:19.

235. ²³⁵ Psalm 135:20; Adler erroneously cites Psalm 145.

236. ²³⁶ Numbers Rabbah 8:2.

237. ²³⁷ Adler cites Tanchuma without further specificity; however, this appears in Midrash Tehillim 117:1 and, in similar form, in Babylonian Talmud, Ta’anit 7a.

Juan Mejia

A mi amigo rabino Andy Sacks z”l, amigo del converso, Amante de Éretz Israel, Torat Israel y Am Israel. Vio la luz que tantos no ven.

Comunidades de conversos: romanticismo e historia

En las últimas dos décadas, la prensa judía internacional, tanto en Israel como en la diáspora, ha cubierto con constante interés la aparición multitudinaria de nuevas comunidades judías a través del globo, con un énfasis especial en América Latina y otros rincones del Sur global¹. El arco narrativo de la mayoría de estos artículos presenta a estas comunidades como descendientes de judíos secretos (benei anusim) o como remanentes de tribus perdidas y se enfoca principalmente en los obstáculos de estas comunidades para ser reconocidas por las autoridades comunitarias judías en diversos paises y por el estado de Israel. El caso más reciente concierne a la aprobación por parte del Israel de la aliá masiva de 6,000 miembros de los Benei Menashé, un grupo étnico en el nordeste de la India que dice descender de la “tribu perdida” de Menashé, el hijo mayor de Yosef.²

Varios artículos deprensa sobre el tema y de las investigaciones académicas sobre estas comunidades, todavía muy escasos en número, se han concentrado en probar (o cuestionar) las conexiones étnicas e históricas con el pueblo judío. Ésta es una empresa casi imposible no sólo por el largo tiempo transcurrido, sino por la misma naturaleza periférica o secreta de estas comunidades. Más aún, la obsesión romántica con el linaje (o falta de él), ignora que este fenómeno de comunidades de conversos ha sido una constante en la historia judía y que su explosión en tiempos modernos está conectado más bien con procesos sociales y tecnológicos y no con una “potencia escondida de la genética judía.”

En este ensayo, presentaremos el contexto histórico de las comunidades emergentes a través de la historia en diferentes ámbitos geográficos para entender las raíces comunes de este fenómeno. En segundo lugar, presentaremos el caso colombiano como un ejemplo de creación y desarrollo de comunidades emergentes en el presente, enfatizando cómo las tendencias históricas que han creado comunidades emergentes en el pasado se ven potenciadas por elementos contemporáneos como el internet y la explosión de diversidad religiosa en América Latina. En este análisis también tocaremos el sensible tema de la falta de reconocimiento y apoyo de estas comunidades por parte de las autoridades judias locales, mostrando como éste se cimenta en formas obsoletas de entender la transmisión de la identidad judía que ponen en peligro la supervivencia de no sólo de estas comunidades sino de las comunidades históricas en la diáspora. Finalmente, espero probar a través de este análisis que las comunidades emergentes presentan una oportunidad de revitalización cultural, religiosa y demográfica que la comunidad judía global ignora y rechaza para su propio detrimento, frente a los desafíos históricos de nuestra época.

Definición e historia de las comunidades emergentes en el pasado

Una comunidad judía emergente es aquella en la que la mayoría o la totalidad de sus miembros fundadores llegan a ser judíos a través de la conversión.³ Y aunque este camino difiere del modelo histórico común en el que nuevas comunidades judías son creadas por la migración de miembros de una comunidad pre-existente, este fenómeno no es en absoluto nuevo. Hace ya dos mil años, los textos y sabios judíos llegaban a lugares donde la cosmovisión única y revolucionaria de la Torá reunía adeptos y reclutas entre las naciones, a pesar de que el judaísmo carecía del celo proselitista que más tarde caracterizó al cristianismo y al islam.⁴ Sorprendentemente, incluso cuando el cristianismo y el islam limitaron radicalmente la capacidad de las comunidades judías para hacer conversos en sus áreas de influencia, las comunidades judías emergentes siguieron surgiendo en la periferia, a menudo desconectadas del resto del mundo judío, pero dispuestas a arriesgarse a la persecución y la muerte para vivir los valores de la Torá de acuerdo a su interpretación de éstos.

Esta es una breve lista de los ejemplos más relevantes de comunidades judías emergentes en la historia registrada:

Conversiones forzadas en Israel (siglos II–I aEC — Israel)

Como parte de las políticas expansionistas de los gobernantes hasmoneos, Aristóbulo y Alejandro Janeo, muchas comunidades no judías de Galilea, Samaria, el Néguev y Transjordania fueron convertidas por la fuerza al judaísmo.⁵ Estas comunidades periféricas, discriminadas por las élites religiosas de la época, proporcionaron un terreno fértil para el movimiento farisaico, que admitía a los conversos y a sus hijos, a diferencia de los saduceos y los esenios, que excluían a los conversos de su liderazgo y de sus miembros. Por su parte, el partido farisaico contaba entre sus eslabones fundamentales de la transmisión de la tradición a Shemayá y Avtalión y a el célebre Rabbi Akiva ben Yosef, descendientes de conversos.⁶

Judíos de Adiabene (siglo I EC — Norte de Irak/Armenia)

Habiendo aprendido la Torá en griego,⁷ la familia real de Adiabene y su séquito se convirtió al judaísmo y se mudaron a la Jerusalén bajo el yugo romano. La reina Elena y su hijo Monobazos contribuyeron generosamente al Templo de Jerusalén y brindaron apoyo militar en las guerras contra Roma.

Dhu Nuwas (siglo VI EC — Yemen)

Bajo el reinado del rey himyarita Dhu Nuwas, el judaísmo se convirtió en la fuerza organizadora de su reinado y en un eje contra la expansión cristiana y sabea (paganismo preislámico) en el sur de Arabia.

Jazaria (siglos VIII-X EC — Cáucaso)

Existen abundantes pruebas de la conversión al judaísmo de la clase dirigente del pueblo turco que habitaba el Cáucaso, conocido como los jázaros. Para este pueblo seminómada, atrapado por la geografía entre el Imperio bizantino y el califato abasí, la conversión al judaísmo de sus élites le permitió participar en los grandes procesos culturales y mercantiles de la época, a la vez que se mantenía flexiblemente independiente de las dos principales potencias cristiana y musulmana de su época. La Jazaria filo-semita ofrecía, además, una ruta clave para que los comerciantes judíos radanitas de Europa conectaran la Ruta de la Seda con el mundo mediterráneo.

Sabatarianos Subbotniki (siglos XVIII-XX EC — Rusia)

Tras la publicación e impresión de las escrituras cristianas en lengua vernácula, algunas sectas protestantes se inclinaron fuertemente hacia el mensaje de la Biblia hebrea. Mientras que en Occidente estos movimientos dieron origen a la Iglesia Adventista, en los Balcanes y el Imperio ruso, algunas de estas comunidades abogaron por la plena aceptación de la Torá y las mitzvot según la interpretación judía, incluso hasta la conversión al judaísmo.⁸ La relación entre las comunidades judías (tanto rabínicas como caraítas) y los subbotniki no fue homogénea. Algunos subbotniki encontraron aceptación en espacios judíos (v.g., el ishuv temprano durante la segunda y tercera aliyá), mientras que en otros lugares hubo sospecha, animosidad y separación hasta el exterminio unificado de estas comunidades durante el Holocausto.

Shanivar Teli (siglos XVIII-XX EC — India)

Los Shanivar Teli («los que no prensan aceite el sábado») afirmaban descender de una tribu perdida de Israel desde hace siglos y eran un grupo étnico del noreste de la India que, a partir del siglo XVIII, adoptó las costumbres sefardíes transmitidas por un judío de Cochin llamado David Rahabi. En la época del Raj británico, los Bene Israel, como luego fueron conocidos, eran la comunidad judía más numerosa y consolidada de la India, pero seguían siendo discriminados por los prominentes judíos bagdadíes que no los reconocían como su parte legítima de su comunidad. La misma discriminación era experimentada por los judíos de Cochín (en el sur de la India) que tenían una historia milenaria pero muy diferente a la de los judíos originarios de Bagdad. Fuentes de menos de cien años describen diferencias y separación entre “los judíos blancos de la India” y “los judíos negros de la India.”⁹ A pesar de que las comunidades de Cochin, los Bené Israel y los judíos Bagdadis nunca se integraron, las tres comunidades emigraron masivamente a Israel, Inglaterra y Estados Unidos tras la independencia de la India.

Abayudaya (siglos XIX-XX EC — Uganda)

Durante la colonización de Uganda, las fuerzas británicas utilizaron la evangelización como herramienta política para el reclutamiento colonial. El líder local Semei Kakungulu, al principio, recibió positivamente a los misioneros anglicanos y sus escrituras traducidas al Luganda. A pesar de que adoptar el cristianismo lo privilegiaría con los británicos que se acaban de consolidar como los señores imperiales de Uganda, en 1919 Semei Kakungulu elige para él y sus seguidores el mensaje del judaísmo. Basándose en la Biblia de los misioneros y en las enseñanzas orales de un ingeniero ferroviario judío polaco llamado Joseph, la comunidad Abayudaya logró establecer una práctica judía sólida y distintivamente judía que incluso sobrevivió a la persecución durante la dictadura de Idi Amin Dada. Conscientes de la necesidad de conectarse con el resto del mundo judío y conscientes de que esto requería un proceso de educación y afirmación de los principios del judaísmo rabinico, en 2002, el primer núcleo de la comunidad Abayudaya se convierte oficialmente al judaísmo por rabinos del movimiento conservador, con otros tribunales de conversión en los años posteriores contribuyendo al crecimiento halájico de la población. En 2008, el rabino Gershom Sizomu fue ordenado como rabino conservador y su comunidad fue recibida en Masorti Olami, la organización de comunidades del movimiento Conservador (Masorti) a nivel mundial. Hasta esta fecha, la mayoría de los Abayudaya no están reconocidos por el Estado de Israel a los efectos de la Ley del Retorno y la aliyá de 1 individuo, el agrónomo, Yosef Kibita en 2024 es más bien la excepción que confirma la regla.¹⁰

San Nicandro (siglo XX EC — Italia)

Con el ascenso de Mussolini al poder como telón de fondo, un carpintero discapacitado del pequeño pueblo de San Nicandro reunió a un gran número de personas que abandonaron el catolicismo y comenzaron a practicar el judaísmo. Con tan solo una Biblia cristiana en italiano, la comunidad contactó con las comunidades judías establecidas de Venecia, Roma y Nápoles en busca de orientación, pero no pudieron completar su conversión hasta 1949, tras el fin de la guerra. La mayoría de los judíos de San Nicandro hicieron aliá al recién nacido Estado de Israel¹¹

Bnai Moshe “Judíos Incas” (siglo XX EC — Perú)

Un movimiento judaizante similar se formó en el norte de Perú en la década de 1960. Si bien la comunidad, que creció rápidamente, logró conectar con el liderazgo rabínico local y con rabinos ortodoxos de Israel, no logró obtener el apoyo de la comunidad judía local para su conversión. Rabinos israelíes llegaron a Perú y convirtieron a la comunidad, con la premisa de que los nuevos judíos emigrarían a Israel. La mayor parte de la comunidad que ha hecho aliá reside actualmente en Cisjordania.¹²

El hilo memético

De este catálogo histórico se pueden extraer algunos hilos comunes. A pesar del énfasis mediático prestado a grupos que afirman ser remanentes perdidos del pueblo judío (Zera Israel, Bnei Menashe, Bnei Anusim, etc.), el registro histórico muestra que éste no es un marco de referencia ni útil ni frecuente para comprender a estos grupos ni sus motivaciones. La teoría del “pintele yid,” según la cual los grupos o individuos con quanta genéticos de sangre judía sentirán un mayor apego al judaísmo, manifestado en un deseo de “retorno,” ha sido objeto de abuso romántico por parte de los medios de comunicación que cubren a estas comunidades y de muchos rabinos que trabajan con éstas. Sin embargo, es mi opinión que esto se debe más a los valores que la comunidad judía actualmente transmite, según los cuales dicha conexión genética facilitaría el a menudo difícil proceso de conversión, que a un fenómeno consistente de interés en el judaísmo por parte de personas con conexiones genéticas distantes con el pueblo judío. Por lo tanto, los candidatos y las comunidades sienten la necesidad de “probar” (o fabricar) su conexión genética y/o histórica judía, a menudo antes de que la comunidad judía global se digne a involucrarse con ellos.

Como fenómeno histórico, sin embargo, es evidente que las comunidades emergentes han surgido en diversos contextos. Encasillar a quienes podrían estar interesados en el judaísmo por su genealogía es una grave incomprensión de la ley judía (que no exige tal conexión como precondición) y va en contra de la realidad histórica de la mayoría de estas comunidades a través del tiempo. Común a todas las comunidades emergentes mencionadas es que su vector inicial de vida judía NO es la práctica de una comunidad histórica preexistente de la que los miembros podrían migrar y crear nuevas comunidades, sino más bien la exposición al TEXTO JUDÍO. Estas comunidades llegaron al judaísmo basándose en su exposición a los libros y sabios judíos, y no por el exposición a comunidades judías vivas. Las comunidades emergentes a lo largo de la historia han tenido que desarrollar su propia institucionalidad judía a partir de una EXPOSICIÓN TEXTUAL y CULTURAL, generalmente a partir de textos disponibles en traducción. Más que una exposición genética al pueblo judío- aunque en ciertos casos ciertamente también esta existió, como una exposición memética al judaísmo y, a veces también, a los mismísmos judíos. Muchas de las diferencias de práctica entre la observancia de estas comunidades y el “judaísmo rabínico estándar” pueden explicarse por una dificultad de estas comunidades a acceder a mayores porciones del canon judío y no por motivaciones sectarias. Por lo tanto, la mayoría del judaísmo de estas comunidades (construido a partir de la Biblia con una exposición limitada al judaísmo rabínico) permaneció extraño e incompatible para observadores judíos de fuera.¹³

Este aislamiento y las prácticas judías atípicas de las comunidades emergentes a lo largo de la historia han dificultado su integración en el pueblo judío en general. En los raros casos en que las comunidades emergentes y las históricas se hallaban en proximidad; estas últimas a menudo no podían recibir conversos legalmente o no estaban dispuestas a integrar a estos forasteros por temor a la disolución de su propia identidad étnica y religiosa. Muchos de estos sentimientos persisten hasta hoy. La larga historia de las comunidades emergentes tiene pocas historias de inclusión con finales felices.

No obstante esta falta de inclusión, para muchas comunidades emergentes que surgieron en los espacios liminales de un mundo dividido entre la Cruz y la Media Luna, el judaísmo no sólo fue una opción religiosa, sino también política. El judaísmo fue una “tercera vía” de civilización que les permitió a estas comunidades acceder a las bendiciones de la alfabetización, la conexión y el reconocimiento (al menos por parte de cristianos y musulmanes), a la vez que preservaba cierto grado de autonomía e independencia. El judaísmo, como opción contracultural en un mundo polarizado, fue una motivación para muchas comunidades emergentes del pasado y promete serlo también en el presente cercano.

El caso colombiano: historia de dos comunidades

La creación de internet y su creciente alcance global ha producido una explosión sin precedentes de comunidades emergentes en todo el mundo. Actualmente, la mayoría de ellas se concentran en Latinoamérica y Europa, y suelen estar impulsadas por la narrativa de la diáspora sefardí. Sin embargo, también están surgiendo comunidades en Asia y África. En este artículo nos concentramos en el caso de Colombia, una de las naciones históricamente más tradicionalmente católicas de America Latina, que en menos de una generación ha incrementado su población judía casi en un 60% a base de conversiones y de grupos de personas que forman sus propias comunidades, a pesar de haber perdido un una gran porcion de su comunidad judía tradicional a comunidades más seguras y afluentes como Miami e Israel durante largas décadas de zozobra política, inseguridad y violencia.¹⁴

Aventureros sefarditas contra la Inquisición colonial

El territorio de la actual República de Colombia en la esquina noroeste del continente suramericano fue uno de los primeros puntos de contacto entre las civilizaciones nativas y el Imperio español. Las ciudades españolas como Santa María la Antigua del Darién (1510), Santa Marta (1525), Cartagena de Indias (1533) y Bogotá (1538), fueron tanto el foco tanto de los esfuerzos de convertir a la población nativa al catolicismo como de preservar al catolicismo como la única religión de la población de origen europeo y sus descendientes mestizos. Para este segundo esfuerzo, un tercer tribunal de la Inquisición es abierto en Cartagena de Indias (1610). Suplementando a los tribunales de en Lima (f. 1570) y Ciudad de México (f. 1571), el tribunal de Cartagena tenía la jurisdicción sobre lo que hoy son los territorios de Colombia, Venezuela, Panamá y las Antillas.

De estos tres archivos emerge la imagen de que entre la población de inmigrantes europeos al Nuevo Mundo, especialmente españoles y portugueses, había muchos descendientes de judíos sefaradíes que, con diferente grado de sinceridad, habían adoptado la fe católica tras el edicto de Alhambra (1492) y la expulsión de los Judíos de Portugal (1497). De estos mismos archivos, así como de ingente evidencia en responsa rabínicas de la época,¹⁵ sabemos que parte de esta población practicaba el judaísmo en secreto y se identificaba plenamente como judío. Casos célebres de benei anusim (lit. hijos de los forzados, como son llamados en la literatura rabínica) judaizantes fueron juzgados, con variable grado de rigor, por el tribunal mexicano (el gobernador Luis Carvajal el mozo),¹⁶ limeño (el médico Francisco Maldonado da Silva),¹⁷ y el cartagenero.

Antonio Montesinos, un aventurero portugués, estuvo retenido durante más de un año bajo cargos de judaizante por la Inquisición de Cartagena. Fue liberado en 1640 por falta de pruebas y pasó los años siguientes trabajando como conductor de mulas en lucrativas caravanas de mulas de Honda a Popayán. Montesinos llevaba en sus mulas productos que llegaban a Honda de Europa. Honda es un pueblo caliente y el último puerto navegable del Río Magdalena. Este conecta, tras semanas de canoa, con el Mar Caribe, que conecta, tras semanas de galeón a través de la Mar Oceana (como se lo conocia al Oceano Atlantico) con Sevilla. Montesinos navegaba ahora los peligrosísimos pasos volcánicos de la Cordillera Central de los Andes. Al otro lado de estas montañas de pesadilla estaba la ruta a las ciudades mineras ricas del Río Cauca, Cali y Popayán. Cargado de oro, Montesinos acometia a la montaña de vuelta.

Sin embargo, al llegar a Ámsterdam en 1644, confiesa en su lecho de muerte ante los rabinos del ma’amad que, siguiendo una revelación ocurrida en las mazmorras inquisitoriales, y la confesión de su guía indígena Francisco en una noche andina de tormenta y perdición, él había encontrado a la tribu perdida de Rubén en las selváticas montañas de lo que hoy es Colombia. El rabino Menashé ben Israel comienza su influyente libro Mikvé Israel (1650)¹⁸ con un recuento extenso de la crónica de Antonio Levi de Montesinos. La tribu de Rubén nunca se materializó. Volvieron a esconderse tras su río mágico a esperar la llegada del mesías. Los archivos inquisitoriales y la creciente evidencia de extensas narrativas familiares, peculiaridades religiosas y ahora estudios genéticos y genealógicos, confirman la presencia judía sefaradí en la población española fundadora de las montañas que domó a mula Antonio Levi Montesinos. Igualmente, hay otros lugares en la América hispana (norte de Mexico, areas del Perú, ciertas Islas antillanas) y portuguesa (nordeste del Brasil) donde la presencia notable de judíos sefarditas, judaizantes o no, en los primeros siglos de la conquista europea es un dato incontrovertible.

Establecimiento de las comunidades históricas reconocidas

Trescientos años después, Colombia es un sitio muy diferente. Para 1950, el 95% de la población colombiana era católica, con un 85% de asistencia frecuente a servicios religiosos. La Constitución colombiana de 1886, vigente hasta el 1991, consagraba la naturaleza católica del país pero ofrecía la tolerancia a otras religiones siempre y cuando “no sean contrarios a la moral cristiana ni a las leyes” (Art. 40).¹⁹ El artículo 41 otorga a la iglesia católica la organización de la eduación pública.

A la Colombia enmarcada por esta constitución, llegaron cuatro olas de migración judía en el siglo XX conformando el núcleo de lo que se convertiria el status quo judío histórico, llamado en este ensayo “comunidades históricas” o “comunidades reconocidas.” Judíos hispano-portugueses de Curacao (finales del s. XIX), judíos otomanos (1920s), judíos ashkenazim (1920–1950) y por último israelíes (1960–presente) fueron creando sinagogas y espacios comunitarios en las ciudades más pobladas del país, particularmente Barranquilla, Cali, Medellín y Bogotá. A través del siglo XX, la autodenominada “colonia judía” fue consolidándose como una comunidad relativamente pequeña pero económicamente boyante e institucionalmente fuerte con colegios privados, clubes sociales, obras sociales dentro (ancianatos) y fuera de la comunidad judía (colegios), cementerios y sinagogas.²⁰

Esta hegemonía católica, una de las más conservadoras de América Latina, sería desafiada en los siguientes 50 años, internamente, por las crisis y las guerras que marcaron la segunda mitad del siglo XX. Estas guerras aceleraron los procesos de urbanización y una modernización de la población colombiana. Externamente, esta modernización y urbanización expusieron al colombiano a procesos culturales y religiosos como el feminismo, el secularismo y, particularmente dentro del ámbito religioso, la llegada de grupos protestantes evangélicos de Norte América y Brasil. Estas iglesias, carismáticas, centradas en el estudio de las Escrituras y obsesionadas con el discurso de incrementar la prosperidad de sus fieles llegaron en un momento de creciente apatía en la población y pérdida de influencia de la iglesia católica en el discurso nacional. Las “iglesias cristianas” comenzaron a crear adeptos en todas regiones y a través de todas las clases sociales del país.

Colombia cambia

Para finales del siglo XX, Colombia era un país constitucionalmente laico, con libertad e igualdad de cultos. Un 90% de la población todavía se consideraba católico, pero las tasas de asistencia y de fervor en la práctica católica habian decaído. Hoy, en 2026, sólo el 78% de la población se considera católica. Un 10% de la población es cristiana protestante y una rápida y creciente población del 8% se considera “sin religión.” El 4% se considera de otra religión. Estos cambios demográficos son consistentes con muchas partes de America Latina y son responsables al menos de dos maneras para la aparición de las comunidades emergentes judías. Por un lado, la creciente conversión de individuos, en todos las clases sociales y grupos demográficos, a iglesias protestantes generó un ambiente de diversidad religiosa que favorecía la curiosidad personal y la experimentación. Así como las iglesias cristianas han explotado a través de todo el panorama demográfico, igualmente se han creado en menor medida un número de comunidades emergentes judías, musulmanas, budistas, mesiánicas y prácticamente de todas las grandes religiones globales. En un mundo laico conectado a internet, el mercado de las ideas no tiene fronteras.

Si la diversidad religiosa creada por la rápida conversión de la población a iglesias protestantes ha favorecido la creación de todo un abanico de opciones religiosas para el colombiano urbano del siglo veintiuno, el tipo de protestantismo importado contiene catalizadores que han llevado a muchos colombianos, con el tiempo, a elegir una vida judía. Estas iglesias protestantes evangélicas fueron fundadas por pastores evangélicos norteamericanos para la mayoría de los cuales la fundación del Estado de Israel y el renacer nacional del pueblo judío son partes esenciales del plan divino. A través de esta centralidad de Israel en la teología y política de estas iglesias, muchos de sus miembros se acercan al estudio de la Torá y de las fuentes judías.

Tanto es así que, paralelo al fenómeno de las comunidades emergentes judías en América Latina que quieren practicar un judaísmo sin Jesús ha ido creciendo un movimiento de “congregaciones mesiánicas” que quieren judaizar a Jesús. Es más, este movimiento es mucho más robusto demográfica y políticamente robusto que las mismas comunidades emergentes. Las comunidades mesiánicas, en creciente boga en Estados Unidos, Europa, Israel y América Latina son iglesias pentecostales que adoptan, en mayor o menor medida, elementos de la tradición judía (talitot, shofarot, palabras o incluso partes de la liturgia hebrea) pero mantiene una teología cristiana que combina muchos aspectos hebreos y judíos (estéticos y hasta étnicos) con la afirmación de que Jesús es el mesías judío. Estas comunidades mesiánicas han crecido exponencialmente en Colombia y el resto de América Latina en comparación con las comunidades emergentes judías, primordialmente porque estas comunidades, por lo general, no requieren de sus feligreses un proceso de conversión, no suelen presionar a los adultos a que se circunciden, y en general no buscan el contacto o la bendición de las comunidades judías establecidas.

Colombia, curiosamente, presenta una interesante inversión de este papel. En los últimos años ha habido un acercamiento entre el liderazgo religioso e institucional de las comunidades judías históricas con ciertas comunidades mesiánicas alrededor de actividades de apoyo al Estado de Israel. Estas comunidades mesiánicas, mucho más numerosas que las comunidades judías históricas, son partícipes en las marchas y manifestaciones públicas en pro del Estado de Israel y suelen tener contacto y respaldo de políticos de la derecha religiosa “cristiana.” Por su parte, los contactos institucionales entre las comunidades históricas y las comunidades emergentes siguen siendo muy escasos o nulos, con la excepción de relaciones comerciales en espacios de venta de alimentos kosher o judaicas, o algunas amistades de judíos desafiliados o de judíos que lamentan la posición retrógada de sus comunidades.

El advenimiento de las iglesias cristianas con elementos israelíes y filosemitas ha sido el vector para que mucha gente pase del cristianismo al judaísmo. No es inusual encontrar individuos que comenzaron su vida como católicos, pasaron al protestantismo, de allí al mesianismo y de allí al judaísmo.²¹ Esta misma transformación también ocurre a nivel institucional. La Iglesia Cristiana para la Familia en Bello (área urbana de Medellín) migró colectivamente hacia el judaísmo y hoy son una de las comunidades emergentes (ortodoxa sefaradí) con más trayectoria y desarrollo institucional en el país. No obstante, el catalizador más importante para el desarrollo de comunidades emergentes en este caldo de cultivo de diversidad religiosa y fervor sionista, ha sido el advenimiento y popularización del internet.

A través del internet, estas comunidades pudieron tener acceso a material educativo sobre temas como práctica e historia judía, así como genealogía judía y estudios genéticos. El internet permitió que muchos individuos que ya estaban en un proceso de migración religiosa encontraran fácilmente conexiones genealógicas con un pasado judío. La creciente accesibilidad de pruebas genéticas de genealogía que arrojan cantidades variables de herencia judía (ya sea ashkenazí o sefaradí) a menudo disparan la curiosidad sobre historia, identidad y en muchos casos creencia. Testigo de esto son las innumerables visitas que reciben nuestros colegas los rabinos congregacionales en los Estados Unidos, Canadá y Europa de personas que quieren entender el significado de su recién descubierta “conexión genética” con el judaísmo. Un simple 1%, el pintele yid por excelencia, puede generar y genera puntos de contacto e interés con el judaísmo.

Este creciente número de personas con sospechas o recibos de quanta genética judía coincide históricamente con cambios de legislación migratoria en España y Portugal que concedían la ciudadanía a estos países de la Union Europea a descendientes de personas que pudieran probar su descendencia de judíos expulsados de los Reinos de Castilla y Aragón en 1492 y del Reino de Portugal en 1497. La ley española y la ley portuguesa del 2015 abren la posibilidad de que las personas con ciertos apellidos de origen sefaradí puedan aplicar al pasaporte europeo.²² Esto causó una avalancha de peticiones en las embajadas de estos países en toda América Latina, dada la popularidad de estos apellidos en ciertas áreas de la región. La avalancha acabó siendo controlada por un costoso proceso de aplicación acompañado de una investigación genealógica de genealogistas a ambos lados del Atlántico. Varias firmas con ánimo de lucro comenzaron a vender paquetes de ayuda legal y tramitológica para asistir al selecto grupo de personas que puedan costearlo. Estas leyes han ayudado a judíos de origen sefaradí en Estados Unidos y en Israel a tener acceso a un pasaporte europea. Igualmente, estas leyes han ayudado a un buen número de personas católicas, cristianas y agnósticas a diversificar su flexibilidad migratoria al descubrir “su ancestro sefardita.” Cinco siglos después, España y Portugal, irónicamente, premian la impureza de sangre de las élites económicas de las colonias.

Todo premio, ganable o no, genera interés. Cientos de miles de personas y posiblemente millones de personas en Colombia (y el mundo entero) se acaban de enterar que algunos o muchos de sus ancestros posiblemente eran de origen sefardita. Esperemos que sólo una quanta de estos millones sienta vergüenza o repudio, lo cual sería de esperar en un ambiente ultracatólico como el de Colombia hace 75 años o incluso hace 50 años alrededor de mi nacimiento. En la Colombia religiosamente diversa y móvil del presente, es posible que ese dato cause curiosidad, empatía e interés, aún si no lleva a un despertar religioso. En los últimos 15 años, antes de que descubrir un ancestro judío sefaradí pudiera darle a una persona y a sus familias un pasaporte europeo, varios rabinos, organizaciones académicas y ONGs ya estaban involucradas en todo el mundo hispano activamente conectando comunidades emergentes con el mundo judío. Organizaciones sin ánimo de lucro como Kulanu enviaba estudiantes rabínicos norteamericanos a comunidades emergentes para organizar shabbatonim.²³ Organizaciones como Bechol Lashon organizaban tours de voluntariado de estudiantes judíos de varios Hilels norteamericanos con miembros y en las sedes de estas comunidades.²⁴ Y organizaciones misioneras como Shavei Israel enviaban rabinos de tiempo completo a trabajar con comunidades en Colombia como shelijim. Antes del sueño dorado de un pasaporte europeo ya había una robusta red de comunidades emergentes practicando judaísmo en Colombia siendo apoyados y ayudados tanto por organizaciones norteamericanas interesadas en estudiar, promover y celebrar la diversidad histórica y étnica del pueblo judío como por organizaciones ortodoxas israelíes que felizmente reclutan individuos que ya, en su mayoría, compartía muchos puntos de la política de derecha religiosa de corte ortodoxo milenarista israelí (gush Emunim). Los factores para la aparición, ex nihilo (itálicas irónicas), de comunidades emergentes judías en Colombia estaban todos listos y presentes.

El establecimiento memético de las comunidades emegentes en Colombia

En nuestro pasado no tan remoto la curiosidad humana debía ser paciente. En algún lado, en una biblioteca estaba la respuesta a mi pregunta. Había quienes tenían acceso a la biblioteca y otros que no. Parte de la gloria del pueblo judío ha sido reconocer que es una prioridad acercar a la gente a los libros. Hoy en día, la curiosidad es impaciente, golosa y privada. Si tengo curiosidad sobre un tema, en segundos voy a tener acceso a contenido sobre él. Más importante aún, voy a encontrar una plétora de contenido enfocado en el tema de mi interés de una manera organizada. El algoritmo me pastorea a contenido popular (lo cual no determina su calidad) a mi nivel de interés. De ahí puede una persona aplicada, de cualquier etnicidad, de cualquier trasfondo religioso, llegar desde cero hasta lo que pueden ofrecer las altas cumbres de Sefaria; particularmente si la persona sabe inglés y/o aprende hebreo. En traducción, el algoritmo está transmitiendo nuestro contenido a gente curiosa en todas las lenguas que entiende Google. Y por último, la razón más importante, dado que una creciente cantidad de contenido habita en redes sociales, una persona curiosa e insistente tiene acceso a una comunidad de personas con similares intereses. Las virtudes pedagógicas de tener en muchos casos acceso directo a los creadores de contenido para preguntas y respuestas, en muchos casos rabinos, son incalculables y permiten a muchos individuos sin acceso a una comunidad judía rápidamente aprender hebreo, judaísmo y otros temas a un nivel y con una rapidez mucho mayor que en otros tiempos hubieran requerido larga exposición en persona a las prácticas y a los maestros usualmente en medio de una comunidad judía activa, segura y boyante que pueda permitir este tipo de outreach educativo.

Afortunadamente a este depurado ecosistema de aprendizaje, con trampas y pantanos pero generalmente navegable es que llegan ahora la inmensa mayoría de las personas que, por cualquier motivo, tienen curiosidad de aprender sobre el pueblo judío, sobre la Torá o sobre judaísmo. La inmersa mayoría de las personas en comunidades emergentes tuvieron su primera exposición a material judío en el internet. En los conatos de comunidades emergentes en el pasado histórico, uno de los más grandes obstáculos era poder tener acceso a material judaico de calidad. Muchas comunidades emergentes en la historia construyeron su práctica y su identidad judía a través de un VECTOR TEXTUAL INCOMPLETO y TRADUCIDO, generando tipos de judaísmo más afines al karaísmo o a comunidades no rabínicas. Hoy en día la totalidad del canon bíblico, rabínico, legal, histórico, académico, poético y místico del pueblo de Israel está disponible ubicuamente de manera completa para toda la humanidad. La actual tecnología puede presentar al individuo curioso traducciones pasables y cada vez más precisas de TODO el canon. Aprender hebreo nunca ha sido más fácil. Aprender judaísmo nunca ha sido más fácil. Casi todos los idiomas europeos más importantes tienen un creciente y muy eficientemente organizado corpus de videos, libros, grabaciones, creadas por la comunidad judía para enseñarse a sí misma judaísmo. El contenido judío para “principiantes” o para baalei teshuva es estudiado con igual rigor y entusiasmo por personas por fuera de nuestra comunidad que, en un tiempo milagrosamente breve, pueden estar tan educados (o en muchos casos más educados) sobre el judaísmo que los judíos promedio en congregaciones no ortodoxas.²⁵ El perfeccionamiento y el avance con el que el internet ha hecho que aprendamos todos los temas posibles, ha creado veloces vía meméticas para aprender, adquirir y aplicar textos, creencias y prácticas judías de fuentes que representan versiones completas y establecidas de casi todo el abanico del judaísmo normativo.

El internet también provee a aquellos individuos curiosos y motivados con la oportunidad de ponerse en contacto con otras personas que comparten similares intereses y puntos de vista. Desde el cambio de siglo, ha habido un grupo creciente de rabinos (en todos los movimientos y denominaciones), con un sinnúmero de motivaciones, que ha interactuado y enseñado a esta periferia fértil. Muchas veces como un producto secundario de su trabajo pastoral o educativo con la comunidad judía (artículos, podcasts, blogs), y recientemente también con un grupo de rabinos de origen converso enseñando judaísmo de acuerdo a las necesidades de este nuevo espacio demográfico. Una vez establecido el contacto con un rabino o una figura educativa, estos individuos curiosos y motivados utilizan el internet para encontrarse en proximidad geográfica, por lo general centrado en un área metropolitana. Y es justamente este contacto físico de un grupo pequeño de personas en una ciudad, usualmente entre 10–30 personas, lo que les da el aliento necesario para comenzar a practicar el judaísmo de manera comunitaria. Estas comunidades de “carne y hueso” (brick & mortar) luego crean a través de la repetición memética de material que han observado en el internet y con un abanico de recursos gratuitos cada vez más accesibles (al menos en lo que toca a la población hispanoparlante), no una imitación convincente sino justamente un servicio religioso judío reconocible. Alrededor de este servicio (genuino y reconociblemente judío en el caso de muchas comunidades) se va construyendo el resto de la comunidad, por supuesto de una manera memética a partir de modelos ofrecidos por otras comunidades judías. Las comunidades que trabajan con rabinos ortodoxos imitarán el desarrollo institucional de comunidades ortodoxas (énfasis en mikvaot, ganim y yeshivot), las comunidades que trabajan con rabino no ortodoxos imitarán el modelo democrático de las javurot norteamericanas de los 60.

La apertura de muchas de las sinagogas locales (de todas las denominaciones) de streaming de los servicios religiosos digitales durante la pandemia, presentó a un público inmenso un sinnúmero de experiencias judías normativas sobre la cual sus javurot podrían fundamentar el memetismo de su liturgia, su teología y su estética. El modelo de pequeña sinagoga o shtibel que dominó la experiencia litúrgica de la mayoría de nuestros ancestros que no tenían acceso a las grandes sinagogas de Alejandría y Varsovia, sale fortalecido en un mundo donde los del shtibel pueden ir en cualquier momento a rezar y a aprender de las grandes comunidades en Buenos Aires, Nueva York, o Argentina. O, comunidades más íntimas que encuentran su inspiración en nuestras sinagogas más humildes, pequeñas en la periferia de Oklahoma City, El Paso o Downey donde ya existe una presencia nutrida de conversos y de hablantes del español. O rabinos y comunidades que han sabido servir a una comunidad geográficamente dispersa con necesidades lingüísticas y religiosas particulares y han colonizado el internet para expandir su servicio comunitario. El internet (o la rebelión ante él) ha cambiado como casi todas las comunidades judías operan hoy día e igualmente ha estado dándole las herramientas a personas a través del globo para crear comunidades judías normativas cuyo judaísmo se fundamenta en una práctica memética del canon religioso y secular del pueblo de Israel y no sólo a una comunidad organizada primordialmente por lazos de genética.

En los casos exitosos, esta javurá local de personas alineadas judaicamente, algunas con pasados judíos otros no, podrán trabajar con su rabino o rabinos utilizando visitas y las herramientas virtuales disponibles como una forma de prepararse e irse organizando para la conversión. Tras un proceso que suele durar mucho más que un proceso de conversión en los Estados Unidos o en Israel, un beit din visita a estas comunidades y tras cumplir los requisitos halájicos de kabbalah ol mitzvot, milá (hatafat dam berit) e inmersión en una mikve, los miembros de la comunidad que hayan estudiado y que lo requieran son convertidos al judaísmo.²⁶ Si hay parejas, se confirma su estatus matrimonial y se procede a hacer juppá y kiddushín con todas las precauciones para que en la periferia frágil del pueblo judío no pueda encontrarse el vergonzoso fenómeno de las agunot. Se celebra, se estudia torá y se canta. Y a partir de este núcleo inicial, sus hijos convertidos y sus hijos futuros se ha creado meméticamente una pequeña comunidad judía, ex nihilo (itálicas irónicas).

Algunos ejemplos notorios

La primeras conversiones de grupos de personas ocurren hacia 2004 cuando un grupo de bogotanos motivados organizados alrededor de un núcleo de lideres con entrenamiento memético del internet e incluso contacto con rabinos ortodoxos de Israel, traen un bet din de rabinos Israelíes encabezado con por el Dr. Moshé Stroe, un médico ecuatoriano vecino de Mitzpé Yerijó. Las comunidades tradicionales que se habían negado a recibir a estas personas, entraron en un agitado debate interno pero público en Hashavua el magazin del Centro Israelita de Bogotá del Rabino Goldschmidt, el gran rabino ashkenazí de Bogotá uno de los medios judíos con más alcance dentro de la comunidad, pero también, dada su naturaleza virtual, visible a todo el mundo. La pregunta: “¿Qué debemos hacer con los 104?”

La respuesta mayoritaria de la comunidad fue la de continuar la política de status quo de no reconocimiento. Los 104, como fueron denominados en el diálogo interno judío, eran demasiado religiosos- afirmaban algunos. Sólo quieren irse a Israel, decían otros. Sería muy difícil integrarlos en comunidades muy pequeñas aferradas no sólo a una identidad institucional (ortodoxia, movimiento conservador, no hay comunidad reformista en Colombia) sino a la fuente migratoria de los fundadores (la sinagoga polaca, la sinagoga alemana, la sinagoga turca; i.e., sefaradí) terciaban escépticos algunos. Los 104 permanecieron en sus comunidades y crearon otras y tras una serie de reconversiones supervisadas por la rabbanut de Israel, muchas de estas familias fundadoras han acabado emigrando a Israel. El fenómeno de los 104 comienza a replicarse en ciudades como Barranquilla, Santa Marta, Bello, Cali, Villavicencio, y por supuesto otras áreas de Bogotá. Ni las comunidades históricas ni sus organizaciones gremiales seculares, particularmente la Confederación Comunidades Judías de Colombia (CCJC) ni los cuerpos diplomáticos israelíes tienen relación alguna con estas comunidades. Su liderazgo y su fortalecimiento memético, no proviene de las comunidades judías más cercanas geográficamente, sino de espacios virtuales y rabinos itinerantes (de todos los gustos y denominaciones) que se ocupan de ellas directamente y las ayudan a organizarse.

Los resultados a nivel institucional han sido impresionantes. La Iglesia Cristiana para la Familia en Bello Antioquia se transformó en una sinagoga sefardita. Hoy, a 2026, esta comunidad cuenta con minyanim diarios, supermercado kasher,instituciones educativas para adultos y para niños, actividades para párvulos y una mikva. Su robusta comunidad contiene gente local, de otras partes de Colombia, de Venezuela y de Costa Rica que han cambiado su residencia para vivir, rezar y estudiar como judíos sefaradíes en Bello (un suburbio popular de Medellín). Rabinos norteamericanos e israelíes visitan con frecuencia trayendo apoyo, tefilin, y también permitiendo que muchos jóvenes puedan ir a estudiar a yeshivot en Israel. El líder de la comunidad y originalmente su pastor, rabino Elad Villegas ha recibido entrenamiento rabinico en Israel y por supuesto también en línea. Ni estos éxitos y ni casi dos décadas de práctica judía ininterrumpida, han convencido a las comunidades locales a compartir espacios. Salvo un breve periodo (2015–2020) cuando muchos miembros jóvenes de esta comunidad y otras comunidades en Colombia auspiciadas por Shavei Israel hicieron aliyá y pudieron estudiar en Israel por fiat de la oficina del Primer Ministro bajo el auspicio de la organización misionera ortodoxa Shavei Israel,²⁷ el estado de Israel (y por extensión sus órganos diplomáticos) se niega a tener contactos o a reconocer a estas comunidades como judías en sus países de origen.

Colombia, un país tradicionalmente conservador en tema de religión, no ha visto todavía el nacimiento de una comunidad emergente reformista o reconstruccionista sostenible. La presencia masortí en el país, en cuanto a comunidades emergentes se refiere, comienza con la organización en el 2009 de Javurat Shirat Hayyam en Santa Marta, Colombia. Varias familias samarias habían estado involucrados en proyectos emergentes ortodoxos y habían quedado insatisfechos de la imposición de vestimenta jasídica a hombres y mujeres y la marginalización de estas últimas. Asesorados por mi, en mi último semestre de seminarista en JTS, la comunidad comienza a practicar y estudiar conmigo virtualmente desde una óptica masortí. Javurat Shirat Hayyam sería la primera javurá igualitaria de puertas abiertas en el país. Para el momento de su conversión 5 años después (2014) la comunidad contaba con una sede arrendada, siddurim, sefer torah y una meguilá. La idea de una javurá masortí igualitaria conformada por conversos tuvo ecos en Barranquilla, una ciudad que cuenta condos comunidades históricas: la comunidad Sefaradí y la ashkenazí. Esta última en 2014, cuando se siembran las semillas de una comunidad masortí igualitaria en Barranquilla estaba afiliada con la ortodoxia moderna.

Javurat Nahariya, comienza en este año como un espacio igualitario y abierto a todos en una ciudad que vio pasar toda la immigración judía reciente por sus calles. Nahariya ha crecido y evolucionado hasta convertirse en una comunidad de aproximadamente 40 personas. Han celebrado servicios semanales de Shabat en un espacio alquilado durante más de una década; poseen su propia Torá y participan activamente en los eventos públicos de la comunidad judía dedicados a la educación sobre Israel y el Holocausto. El KKL ha recaudado fondos con éxito dentro de la comunidad para sus proyectos de “Tikkun Haaretz.” Han participado en actividades continentales con el Seminario como la Mezutón (un maratón para incentivar la mitzvá de mezuzot). A través de esta última década ha habido un grupo de nuevas personas en la comunidad que están estudiando nuestro programa de Introducción al Judaísmo. Este se basa en seminarios en vivo con las comunidades, clases virtuales en vivo para cubrir temas como historia y hebreo, y preparación con material pregrabado (un currículum de más de 200 horas de estudio). Estos nuevos individuos, como cualquier converso, se están integrando con su nueva familia judía y aprendiendo de ella en una ambiente orgánico y normal. Cuando el curso se termina, un bet din de la Asamblea Rabínica viaja y supervisa la conversión de cada clase de graduación. Generalmente 10 hombres adultos, 10 mujeres adultas, y 10 menores de edad por bet din. El fin de semana del bet din es un shabbaton extendido de divrei Torá, bodas, actividades educativas y recreativas con toda la comunidad.

En el Septiembre de 2019, Javurat Nahariya y Javurat Shirat Hayyam son aceptados dentro del movimento conservador al ser aceptados como miembros de la United Synagogue for Conservative Judaism como una institución pequeña con dos campus, el CIRCULO ISRAELITA DEL CARIBE.²⁸ Hasta el día de hoy el CIC no tiene ninguna conexión las comunidades históricas establecidas salvo algunas amistades, ni tiene tampoco conexiones con el cuerpo diplomático de Israel. Últimamente, se ha abierto la posibilidad para algunos de los jóvenes para hacer Taglit, lo cual ha sido de gran bendición y provecho para los participantes. No obstante, sus miembros, muchos de ellos viviendo vidas judías religiosas plenas desde hace al menos 14 años, no tienen aún el derecho de hacer aliyá,²⁹ ni espacios donde puedan interactuar frecuentemente con las otras comunidades judías de la ciudad con la que comparten el clima, el antisemitismo, y la preocupante radicalización del colombiano promedio en contra de Israel desde los hechos funestos del 7 de Octubre.

La pesadilla

Es 2004. “Los 104” entran valientemente a la mikve. Otras comunidades en otras ciudades del país se están comenzando a reorganizar como sinagogas para rezar y estudiar. Las más adelantadas de estas comunidades son iglesias cristianas o comunidades mesiánicas que han cambiado su teología a formas normativas de judaísmo tras la exposición de enseñanzas en el internet, visitas de rabinos e incluso visitas de pastores a Israel.³⁰ El sueño de contactar a un rabino o a un bet din de conversión todavía es un difuso sueño virtual. No obstante, en la frontera entre Venezuela y Colombia, en la ciudad de San Cristóbal del Táchira un bet din ortodoxo de Miami está convirtiendo 200 colombianos y venezolanos en masa. Las razones para esta conversión no son fruto de una búsqueda religiosa y de un largo proceso de estudio sino del negocio ilegal de un empleado de la Agencia Judía en Venezuela. Queriendo incrementar sus tasas de aliyá, por las cuales recibía una bonificación, 200 ciudadanos venezolanos y colombianos fueron convertidos al judaísmo con mínima preparación. Poco después estas familias se mudarían a Ramle, a vivir en condiciones de vida materialmente más ventajosas. Esta venta flagrante de pasaportes israelíes no fue muy sonada en las noticias locales o israelíes.³¹ Su responsable fue arrestado en Israel en el 2008 y fue juzgado y procesado con carcel.

A pesar de ser un fenómeno aislado y para muchos olvidado, este fantasma de “las conversiones en masa” y sus posibles abusos ha enmarcado la conversación sobre las comunidades emergentes dentro de las comunidades históricas de América Latina y en Israel. Admitiendo que, a pesar de su muy mala publicidad, ser judío y especialmente ser israelí es un derecho, un honor y un privilegio que cada converso debería recibir,las cortes y el gobierno israelí ha decidido enmarcar el fenómeno de las comunidades emergentes como un problema migratorio. En 2018, un estudiante Abayudaya de la comunidad Masorti de Uganda (cuyos ancestros han practicado judaísmo por más de 100 años, en público y en secreto) pidió una visa de estudiante para Israel para profundizar sus estudios sobre judaísmo, ésta fue negada. El oficial del ministerio del Interior Amós Arbel negó la visa aduciendo que sería perjudicial dejar que “medio África entre al país.”³²

Este mismo ministerio del Interior acaba de aprobar en 2026, 90 millones de shekels (30 millones de dólares) para traer, en los próximos 5 años, a 6,000 ciudadanos indios de las zonas orientales de Mizoram y Manipur, convertidos por rabinos israelíes, aduciendo que son descendientes del hijo de Yosef, visir del faraón, el hijo de Yaakov.³³ Estoy seguro que estos 6,000 Bnai Menashe llegarán a Israel con un gran nivel de conocimiento judaico y compromiso con el país y con el pueblo judío y ellos y sus descendientes escribirán importantes páginas de la historia de nuestro pueblo. Todos los judíos de comunidades emergentes que he tenido el privilegio de conocer que han logrado hacer aliyá son ejemplares contribuyentes a la sociedad israelí y su práctica y espiritualidad es completamente judía. Esto no significa que podamos decir kadish por el caso de “las conversiones masivas.” Esta acusación seguirá siendo utilizada en contra de comunidades emergentes que no tengan el necesario respaldo político como forma de desvirtuar su proceso espiritual, la calidad de su conversión y su acceso a experiencias y derechos que otros judíos dan por hecho.

Hace una semana, Abril 28, 2026, un jasid de Belz norteamericano fue encontrado asesinado y torturado en Bogotá. La investigación continua sobre este lamentable hecho. Lo que se ha sabido es que la víctima había estado ya casado con una mujer de una comunidad emergente en Colombia y que habiéndose divorciado estaba conociendo prospectos en otras comunidades emergentes en el país.³⁴ La gran ironía es que la comunidad ultraortodoxa, que suele ser el árbitro y el experto usual en el debate de quién es judío, parece haber comenzado a reconocer a las comunidades emergentes y a sus miembros (ya sean conversos o descendientes de conversos) como judíos de la manera más íntima y halájicamente relevante posible, mientras que las comunidades históricas a escasos kilómetros de estas sinagogas y el más distante aún Estado de Israel se niegan a tener relaciones serias con éstas o a reconocerlas como legítimas.

Debemos reconocer el riesgo real de conversiones masivas por dinero o con fines de infiltrar comunidades judías con fines nefastos. Igualmente debemos garantizar que estas comunidades emergentes que en su mayoría están conformadas por gente buena, disciplinada y creyente no sean víctimas fruto de la inmensa gran asimetría de poder que éstas experimentan frente a comunidades judías globales. Las comunidades emergentes están formadas por personas que quieren conectarse o reconectarse con sus raíces judías, cuya práctica judía suele ser alta. La inmensa mayoría incluso se identifican con una práctica ortodoxa del judaísmo. Para estas comunidades emergentes, como para sus antecesores históricos, tener acceso a un rabino benefactor, a una red social de judíos, o incluso a un judío observante bien educado es un VECTOR MEMÉTICO de increíble eficacia que conlleva mucho poder. Los prospectos de matrimonio a los miembros de una comunidad ortodoxa en el exterior son proporcionalmente más persuasivos para miembros de comunidades que están desesperadamente tratando de integrarse y asimilarse al pueblo judío y a sus prácticas. Esta disparidad de poder debe ser vigilada por las comunidades históricas si las hay, así como por el estado de Israel, es su ausencia. Por su parte, la oscuridad y la ignorancia de la falta de reconocimiento, o aún una silenciosa complicidad y conocimiento, no evitarán que esta disparidad pueda producir monstruos.³⁵

Reconocimiento

El principal obstáculo, como en el pasado, es la renuencia de las comunidades judías locales (cuando corresponde) y del Estado de Israel, como representante global del pueblo judío, a reconocerlas como “auténticas comunidades judías” (kehila yehudit mukkeret en hebreo). Si bien tanto el movimiento reformista como el masortí han afiliado a comunidades emergentes en sus organizaciones comunitarias paraguas,³⁶ y algunas comunidades emergentes cuentan con el respaldo de rabinos ortodoxos individuales, ninguna comunidad emergente a nivel mundial tiene la condición de “comunidad judía reconocida” a ojos del Ministerio del Interior israelí, lo que significa que sus miembros no pueden optar a la aliá o, en muchos casos, no pueden participar en programas como Taglit Birthright.

En lugares donde coinciden comunidades históricas y emergentes, las primeras no solo se han negado a reconocerlas y a colaborar con las segundas, sino que han utilizado su influencia y privilegio para bloquear el reconocimiento de estas comunidades por parte del mundo judío en general. El rápido crecimiento de las comunidades emergentes en algunas zonas, donde sus números han comenzado a aproximarse el número de “judíos históricos,” ha creado dos comunidades judías distintas e igualmente grandes que carecen de contacto, responsabilidad mutua y un sentido institucional de destino compartido.³⁷

Esta trágica separación perjudica no solo a las comunidades emergentes y su oportunidad de integrarse en el pueblo judío en general, sino que también priva a la comunidad judía histórica de un impulso demográfico que necesita desesperadamente. El fenómeno religioso y sociológico contemporáneo de las comunidades emergentes es resultado directo de la disponibilidad global del mensaje judío y su poder memético. Esta disponibilidad no va a desaparecer, y las multitudes de individuos y comunidades que eligen seguir este mensaje no pueden predecirse ni controlarse por nadie. Ciertamente individuos con historias judías recientes como aquellos con historias más distantes y románticas (i.e., benei anusim) van a gravitar hacia este contenido y van a saciar su necesidad de vivir en comunidad, sin la cual el judaísmo normativo es imposible, en comunidades propias si no existe una comunidad judía donde viven o en comunidades propias si las comunidades que existen no los dejan entrar. Más aún, la capacidad de inspirar del mensaje judío no está limitado a personas con genética judía. Muchos de estos conversos y de los futuros conversos de la aldea global no van a tener conexión alguna con la historia del pueblo de Israel. Nuestra tradición enseña de manera inequívoca que un ser humano, sin importar su linaje genético o histórico e incluso personal puede convertirse y ser parte del pueblo de Israel. Los vectores meméticos que hemos lanzado al espacio virtual no pueden ser detenidos y estos caerán en en lugares distantes y extraños del mundo. Y así la historia de este pueblo y su Torá inspirarán a otros a formar comunidad alrededor de estos vectores dentro de su entorno.

La reticencia del mundo judío a interactuar con estas comunidades y ayudarlas en su educación y organización amenaza con crear otro mundo judío desconectado de todos los demás. Esta desconexión traiciona el valor sagrado del klal Israel y está alienando el único espacio en el mundo judío donde el crecimiento demográfico es potencialmente ilimitado. En unas pocas décadas, no seria descabellado imaginar que el número de judíos producidos por estas comunidades y sus descendientes se acerque o incluso supere nuestros escasos 16 millones actuales y sus descendientes. El papel de la conversión en las próximas décadas podría ser responsable del fortalecimiento y crecimiento del judaísmo hasta convertirlo en una sólida civilización global de tercera vía. O, trágicamente, podría exponer la incapacidad o falta de voluntad de la comunidad judía para definirse más allá de las limitaciones de la genética y el pedigrí. Peor aún, estas comunidades podrian convertirse en el arrabal conocido pero poco mencionado del pueblo judío donde dado que no brilla la luz de las instituciones, gente poderosa con todo tipo de agendas, pueden ir a explotar a otros judíos y seres humanos, amantes de la Torá y del pueblo judío, para todo tipo de necesidades.

Prefiero pensar que estas comunidades son la manifestación y el comienzo de una periferia judía tan viva y exhuberante como los trópicos de Colombia. Y que la belleza meméticamente contagiosa de nuestra tradición pueden extender lazos de hermandad y poblar los últimos rincones de la tierra con nuestro mensaje y con miles (millones) de hermanos y hermanas que nos ayuden a construir el futuro brillante del pueblo judío y de la tierra de Israel con la que hablaban en nombre de Dios, hace mucho tiempo, Miqueas e Isaías.³⁸

Rabbi Juan Mejia is the Jewish Educator at Emanuel Synagogue in Oklahoma City. A graduate in philosophy from Universidad Nacional de Colombia, he holds a master’s degree in Jewish civilization from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and was ordained in 2009 by the Jewish Theological Seminary of America.

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1. ¹ Una mapa interactivo de Google ha sido curado por el autor para Bechol Lashon mostrando la distribución geográfica de comunidades emergentes, presentes y pasadas, en el globo. Su actualización no es garantizada. Hasta donde el autor pudo colegir estas comunidades no son comunidades cripto cristianas ni son infiltradores mesiánicos sino comunidades de conversos que quieren organizar su vida de acuerdo al Judaísmo Ortodoxo (puntos amarillos), al Judaísmo Conservador/Masortí (puntos rojos) y al Judaísmo Reformista (puntos azules). Los templos violeta son comunidades emergentes en el pasado. Ver https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/viewer?mid=1NijFjf3B0q83alcB3nIt_ux9Xt0&ll=-3.81666561775622e-14%2C-53.21211679999999&z=2.

2. ² Batsheva Shulman, “Israel launches gov’t initiative to bring home, reunite Bnei Menashe community.” Jerusalem Post, 31 enero, 2026, https://www.jpost.com/diaspora/article-885015.

3. ³ El término “comunidad emergente” (emergent o emerging community en inglés, kehilá mitjadeshet en hebreo) fue acuñado por mí en el año 2010 como una manera diferente de referirme a las comunidades que estaba observando en Colombia y otras partes de América Latina que por sobreenfatizar la narrativa de ser descendientes de judíos sefaradíes estaban excluyendo gente interesada por “no tener apellidos.” Esta misma obsesión de muchos individuos y comunidades en enfocar sus narrativas de descubrimiento de raíces criptojudías sólamente en sus conexiones genealógicas y genéticas con el pueblo judío, sin considerar un cambio religioso y de conducta también fue lo que me alejó de la manifestación de esta “obsesión sefardita” como se manifiesta en el Suroeste de los Estados Unidos. Si bien es innegable que hay número creciente de personas que descubren conexiones genéticas, culturales y religiosas serias con el judaísmo sefardita entre la población hispana de Nuevo México, Texas, Colorado y en el Norte de México, para muy pocos implica un cambio religioso y personal serio. Esta selecta minoría de personas hispanas que se han convertido al judaísmo tras descubrir una conexión familiar han fortalecido y revitalizado muchas comunidades judías como Bnai Zion en El Paso Texas y Ner Tamid en Downey, California. En la primera, el rabino Stephen Leon ha dedicado décadas de estudio sobre el fenómeno anusim y de servicio a personas de este trasfondo a ambos lados de la frontera a convertirse al judaísmo. En la segunda, el carismático rabino argentino, llena su sinagoga en una zona urbana de Los Ángeles con judíos hispanos que viajan desde San Luis Obispo en el norte hasta Tijuana en el sur, con gente que viene a rezar y a compartir Torá en español. Muchos están orgullosos de su ancestro sefaradí, pero hay tantas otras personas de diversos orígenes que llamarlo una comunidad de “bnai anusim” sería limitar innecesariamente el alcance universal del mensaje de la Torá y del judaísmo. De ahí, “comunidad emergente.”

4. ⁴ Curiosamente es Jesús de Nazaret quien acusa a los fariseos, es decir al movimiento protorabínico de practicar la conversión proactiva. Mateo 23:15.

5. ⁵ Flavio Josefo, Antigüedades de los Judíos, 13:20.

6. ⁶ Sobre la exclusión de conversos en el liderazgo de las sectas Pietistas (jasidim) en el segundo Templo ver Flavio Josefo, Sobre la guerra judía. 2:119. El movimiento farisaico, por su parte, admitía conversos y sus descendientes entre sus líderes y seguidores. Bavlí Yomá 71b; Bavlí Guittín 57b.

7. ⁷ La Torá había sido ya traducida al griego 200 años después en Alejandría y de ahí sus copias fueron migrando a sitios lejanos donde la lengua de Alejandro era la lengua de los reyes y las élites.

8. ⁸ Conversos del protestantismo al judaísmo de personas de Alemania y de los Balcanes encontrarse un hogar muy acogedor en la Amsterdam del siglo XVII. La comunidad sefardita de Amsterdam estaba dedicada a rescatar a judíos sefarditas españoles y portugueses que tras 1608 podían viajar a ultramar sin pruebas de pureza de sangre. Tanto el padre de Baruch Spinoza y Menashé ben Israel su maestro habían nacido católicos en Portugal y se habían convertido tras emigrar a Amsterdam. Era una comunidad de conversos donde un puñado de protestantes deseosos y cautelosos podían beneficiarse de las ventajas educativas meméticas de la comunidad de Amsterdam que tenía instituciones y libros dedicados a la rápida educación y asimilación del converso. Muchos de estos conversos protestantes estudiaron Torá y fueron claves en la llegada de líderes judíos letrados a Escandinavia.

9. ⁹ Shem Tov Gaguine, The Jews of Cochin (Brighton, 1953). Originalmente en hebreo “Jayé Yehudei Kotchin.” Publicado después como parte del séptimo tomo de su magnus opus sobre el tema de diferencias de Minhag entre los judíos ashkenazis, los judíos orientales y los judíos sefaradís de Londres y Amsterdam a quien servía como Gran Rabino. Ver también Gaguine, Keter Shem Tov, https://hebrewbooks.org/14392.

10. ¹⁰ Aryeh Oded, Religion and Politics in Uganda: A Study of Islam and Judaism. (East African Educational Studies, 1995); Richard Sobol and R. Summit, Abayudaya: The Jews of Uganda. (Abbeville Press, 2002). Para la odisea de Yosef Kibita ver https://www.timesofisrael.com/after-7-year-legal-battle-uganda-jewish-man-finally-gets-israeli-citizenship/.

11. ¹¹ John Davis, The Jews of San Nicandro (Yale University Press, 2010).

12. ¹² Gabriela Mochkofsky, The Prophet of the Andes: An Unlikely Journey to the Promised Land. (Knopf, 2022).

13. ¹³ Muchos de los encuentros históricos entre miembros de comunidades periféricas y las comunidades rabínicas letradas (i.e., el registro histórico europeo) ocurrió a través de rumores e historias como el testimonio de Eldad Hadani. Cuyo testimonio fantástico sobre lo que es posiblemente comunidades que practicaban el judaísmo en el este de Africa (Etiopía) acaba perdiendo credibilidad con la abundancia de detalles milagrosos. Estas tribus perdidas más allá del milagroso río Sambatión que es impassable todos los días excepto Shabbat (cuando la Ley Judía prohibe pasarlo) fueron durante mucho tiempo personajes del folclor medieval judío. Ese romanticismo, en manos de grupos judíos milenaristas, es parte de lo que anima al mundo judío y incluso al estado de Israel a invertir recursos en “tribus perdidas.”

14. ¹⁴ Pido de antemano disculpas sobre la paucidad de referencias en esta porción del ensayo pero estas comunidades no han sido suficientemente estudiadas a profundidad por demógrafos, antropólogos, sociólogos e historiadores, judíos o no. La mayoría de las apreciaciones y estimaciones numéricas provienen de mi experiencia directa de estas comunidades y de comunicaciones directas con líderes comunitarios y religiosos en Colombia. Especial agradecimiento al rabino Elad Villegas, al señor Tadashi Barros, y a Renen Bat quien está escribiendo uno de los primeros estudios sobre las comunidades emergentes en Colombia con el apoyo del Instituto Ben Zvi en Israel. La Dra. fue muy amable en dejarme consultar material inédito de su trabajo de campo en Colombia.

15. ¹⁵ Ver Shut Rivash 4, 6, 11; Tashbatz 1:66, 3:47, 3:212; Shut Rashbash 89; Shut Yachin uBoaz 1:107, 2:3; Shut Mahari Berav 39; Shut Mahari Ben Leb 1:15; Shut Hammabit 1:170; Shut Avakat Harokhel 21; Bet Yosef (Even Haezer 42:5); Shut Mahari Colon 85; Shut Haradvaz 3:415.

16. ¹⁶ Martin A. Cohen, The Martyr: Luis de Carvajal, A Secret Jew in Sixteenth-Century Mexico (University of New Mexico Press, 1971).

17. ¹⁷ Ver la biografía novelizada de Marcos Aguinis, La gesta del marrano (Sudamericana, 1991).

18. ¹⁸ Publicado simultáneamente en 1650 en hebreo, español e inglés y traducido al latín, esta obra de Menashé ben Israel es un estudio sobre las tribus perdidas y la necesidad de que la diáspora judía fuera universal para dar comienzo a la era mesiánica. Ben Israel argumenta, trayendo reportes como los de Montesinos y literatura de viajes, para probar que la diáspora judía era casi universal y que paises como España e Inglaterra que no permitían la existencia de comunidades judías en sus fronteras estaban transgrediendo la Escritura y demorando la venida del Mesías. Este libro fue instrumental en la re-legalización de la existencia de comunidades judías en Inglaterra por parte del protectorado puritano de Oliver Cromwell y es directamente responsable de la posibilidad de una diáspora judía en las colonias inglesas de ultramar que luego vendrían a ser los Estados Unidos de América (f. 1654). Ver https://hebrewbooks.org/9455.

19. ¹⁹ El Artículo 38 es particularmente diciente: “Artículo 38. La Religión Católica, Apostólica, Romana, es la de la Nación; los Poderes públicos la protegerán y harán que sea respetada como esencial elemento del orden social. Se entiende que la Iglesia Católica no es ni será oficial, y conservará su independencia.”

20. ²⁰ La historia de las comunidades históricas y establecidas de Colombia está bien documentada. El país y sus comunidades judías históricas son referenciados en todas las Enciclopedias Judías. Así mismo varios académicos nacionales han dedicado investigaciones completas a aspectos como la arquitectura traída por los fundadores de las comunidades. La academia, la banca, la aviación, muchas industrias, las artes han dedicado sendas biografías a sus figuras fundacionales.

21. ²¹ Este migración religiosa no es un caso aislado de Colombia sino parte de una tendencia global. De acuerdo a los estudios poblacionales PEW, en los USA, la tasa de migración religiosa actual es del 35%. Uno de cada tres individuos cambia su religión (o denominación) al menos una vez en la vida. Los mayores índices de migración son hacia el ateísmo, agnosticismo o la categoría de “Spiritual but not religious (espirituales pero no religioso). En el 2007, un 78% de los estadinenses se identificaba como cristiano. En 2024, ese número había descendido a 62% con tendencias a aplanar la curva.

22. ²² Ver https://www.exteriores.gob.es/Consulados/jerusalen/es/Consulado/Paginas/BILL%20GRANTING%20SPANISH%20CITIZENSHIP%20TO%20SEPHARDIC%20JEWS%20%20Jerusalem.pdf; https://www.cilisboa.org/home/nationality/?lang=en.

23. ²³ Su lema es “dar apoyo a comunidades judías aisladas, emergentes y en retorno alrededor del globo.” Ver https://kulanu.org/.

24. ²⁴ Bejol Lashon es una organización laica basada en San Francisco que “celebra y da prioridad a la diversidad como un valor judío al ensalzar la diversidad racial y étnica del pueblo judío, tanto en el pasado como en el presente, y al hacerlo fortalecer a toda la comunidad judía.” Ver https://globaljews.org/. El libro de Gary Tobin z”l, fundador de Bechol Lashon, es un primer paso para entender lo que motiva al converso de hoy y muestra cómo un cambio de actitud puede salvar al pueblo judío. Gary Tobin, Opening the Gates: How Proactive Conversion Can Revitalize the Jewish Community (Abriendo las puertas: cómo la conversión proactiva puede revitalizar a la comunidad judía) (Jossey-Bass, 1999).

25. ²⁵ Dado que el pasado individual y/o institucional de las comunidades emergentes en América Latina procede de una variedad muy norteamericana del pentecostalismo, la mayoría de las comunidades emergentes en América Latina se identifican con una ortodoxia de derechas tanto en temas políticos, como en temas religiosos. El material de grupos ortodoxos como Jabad o Aish Hatorah con interpretaciones muy literalistas dirigida a los baalei teshuva no discrimina su eficacia con personas que comparten las mismas lecturas fundamentalistas. Algunas comunidades de Jabad incluso han comenzado a establecer grupos de “Noajidas” como una forma de congregar a estas personas sin tener que convertirlas. Los movimientos no ortodoxos, por su parte, con su énfasis en el igualitarismo y en versiones más incluyentes de la halajá y la liturgia, han tenido un éxito muy relativo frente al impacto de la ortodoxia. Tanto rabinos del gush emunim, rabinos de la periferia ortodoxia de Miami y Nueva York, rabinos sefarditas tradicionales, Na-najmanim, Jasidim de Montsey, Neturei Karta y hasta la secta de Lev Tahor han estado involucrados con comunidades emergentes en Colombia nada más. La mayoría de estos conversos de iglesias cristianas gravitan hacia formas tradicionales de judaísmo.

26. ²⁶ Este fue el proceso que ha utilizado el movimiento Masorti para el desarrollo y cultivación de la comunidad Abayudaya en Uganda. En el año 2004, un bet din norteamericano e israelí convirtió al primer grupo de la comunidad y el Instituto Ziegler de la Universidad Judía Americana, con la colaboración de ONGs como Bechol Lashon y Kulanu, educó in situ en Los Ángeles y en Jerusalén al primer rabino Abayudaya Gershom Sizomu. Desde su ordenación en 2008 y su reconocimiento como comunidad de Masorti Olami, el Rabino Sizomu ha traído y liderados varios batei din de rabinos extranjeros mediante los cuales se han convertido el resto de la comunidad Abayudaya.

27. ²⁷ El fundador de Shavei Israel, el periodista Michael Freund, comparte viejos vínculos de colaboración con el Primer Ministro Benjamín Netanyahu y fue miembro de su primera campaña electoral.

28. ²⁸ El Círculo Israelita del Caribe, en sus campus de Barranquilla y Santa Marta, ha recibido en estos diez años a muchos viajeros judíos. Varios rabinos locales y extranjeros los han visitado y han quedado impresionados por su entrega y compromiso.

29. ²⁹ El movimiento Masortí mundial contiene sólo dos congregaciones emergentes. La primera de ellas, afiliada con Masorti Olami, es la comunidad Abayudaya ya mencionada en este artículo. Con la ordenación de su primer rabino local, rabino Gershom Sizomu, la comunidad Abayudaya de Nabugoye Hill en Uganda se une a Masorti en 2008. A pesar de ser una comunidad modelo, con sinagogas, hospitales, música litúrgica propia y un programa de Hilel en la Universidad de Kampala. Y a pesar de ser el rabino Sizomu no sólo el Gran Rabino de Uganda sino también diputado del parlamento ugandés, las autoridades israelies continúa ignorando a la comunidad en Uganda. Sólo hasta 2024, Yosef Kibita, el primer Abayudaya en tratar de hacer aliyá fue aceptado tras largas batallas legales y obstáculos burocráticos.

30. ³⁰ Este es el caso del rabino Elad Villegas. Quien en la primera década fue llevado con otros pastores cristianos a Israel en viajes de solidaridad dada el férreo soporte político de las iglesias cristianas y las comunidades mesiánicas por el Estado de Israel que han heredado de sus fundadores en la Iglesia Bautista Pentecostal norteamericana. El lobby evangélico por Israel se asegura de que los líderes de sus iglesias, particularmente aquellas con gran éxito económico e institucional, visiten Tierra Santa y puedan predicar apasionadamente sobre ésta a sus fieles, muchos de los cuales visitan como turistas y peregrinos. Para Elad y otros pastores estas visitas causaron un viraje teológico hacia el judaísmo normativo. Para Elad esto también significó la fracturación de su iglesias. Si bien muchas familias se integraron al sinfín de iglesias, un puñado de familias acompañó al pastor en su adopción de un judaísmo ortodoxo sefardita. Pronto muchas personas con historias familiares intrigantes, apellidos en listas de “apellidos sefarditas,” o una simple atracción por el judaísmo fueron llenando las sillas. Hoy a 2026, la Comunidad Judía de Antioquia, es el minyán con más feligreses judíos (por nacimiento o por conversión halájica) en todo el área metropolitana de Medellín. Contando con mercados, kosher, mikva, e instituciones educativas. El rabino Elad Villegas, educado a través de visitas a Israel, visitas de rabinos a su comunidad y la creciente biblioteca de material educativo tradicional y memético disponible en el internet, manejó su viraje espiritual y el de su iglesia creando una comunidad sólida, sostenible, boyante. Y hasta el día de hoy, 2026, esta comunidad no es reconocida por las comunidades históricas ni por el estado de Israel.

31. ³¹ “Israel-Jewish Agency Envoy Arrested Over Fraudulent Conversions,” VIN News, 13 febrero, 2008, https://vinnews.com/2008/02/13/israel-jewish-agency-envoy-arrested/.

32. ³² Jeremy Sharon, “Ministry: Uganda Jews ineligible for aliya since they converted en masse.” Jerusalem Post, 25 junio, 2018, https://www.jpost.com/diaspora/ministry-uganda-jews-ineligible-for-aliya-since-they-converted-en-masse-560841.

33. ³³ Alex Winston, “Government approves plan to bring India’s remaining ‘lost tribe’ Bnei Menashe back to Israel,” Jerusalem Post, 23 noviembre, 2025, https://www.jpost.com/aliyah/article-874914.

34. ³⁴ Reuven Fenton and Jorge Fitz-Gibbon, “NYC dad found murdered and dismembered in Colombia was there to meet new wife, pal says,” New York Post, 30 abril, 2026, https://nypost.com/2026/04/30/us-news/nyc-rabbi-found-dismembered-in-colombia-was-there-to-meet-new-wife-pal/.

35. ³⁵ Un vergüenza que no ha cumplido un siglo aún. La infamia de la organización de trata de personas intra judía Zwi Migdal (1906–1937) escandalizó al mundo judío de la época y de Buenos Aires, ciudad central de su trata, pero sólo la mano de la justicia argentina y brasilera y la descomposición del shtetl llevaron a su desbandamiento.

36. ³⁶ La WUPJ reconoce como comunidades en 2026 a Asociación Reformista de Guatemala Adat Israel (Ciudad de Guatemala, est. 2006), Bet Jadash (Guayaquil, Ecuador, est. 2009), y Comunidad Judía de Húanuco-Beith Etz Chaim (Huánuco, Perú, est. 2007). Masorti Olami afilia en 2008 a los Abayudaya de Uganda (Nabugoye Hill, est. 1919). Y si bi muchas de las nuevas comunidades afiliadas en España y en Europa del Este son sostenidas espiritualmente y demográficamente por conversos, éstas no cabrían en el rubro de comunidad emergente o desearía recibirlo. En el 2020 el Círculo Israelita del Caribe (Barranquilla, est. 2016, y Santa Marta, est. 2009, Colombia) es admitido como congregación del United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism en su rama de la Florida y el Caribe. Estas cinco congregaciones comparten el hecho de que a pesar de ser miembros de organizaciones comunales internacionales reconocidas y poderosas, no han podido convencer a las comunidades judías de sus países (si las hay y sí las hay) o de Israel de su autenticidad. Sus miembros no han podido hacer aliyá. O sólo lo han hecho (con cuenta gotas) a través de esfuerzos legales tremendos por parte de la WUPJ y el mismo Masorti y la Asamblea Rabínica. El mundo judío está bendecido cuando el feo cisma entre los dos más grandes movimientos no ortodoxos pasa sólo por medio de cinco pequeñas comunidades pujantes en regiones con buen clima. Lo que preocupa es que del otro lado de la grieta, particularmente en el lado ortodoxo, nadie está mirando.

37. ³⁷ La Confederación de Comunidades Judías de Colombia (CCJC), la organización de las comunidades historicas del país con miembros en Bogota, Cali, Medellín y Barranquilla dice en su página que en Colombia hay 2,100 judíos en Colombia. Estos son los datos con los que opera el World Jewish Congress y seguramente el Estado de Israel. La página de la embajada israelí con prudencia que le faltó a el rey David se rehusa a comentar en el tamaño de la comunidad judía en Colombia. De acuerdo a la investigadora israelí Renen Kol-Halel del Instituto Ben Zvi en su estudio de campo inédito sobre las comunidades emergentes en Colombia, las comunidades emergentes en Colombia con seriedad institucional son 14 grupos distribuídos en las 4 grandes ciudades con unas 1,500 personas. Yo añadiría que, de acuerdo a mi experiencia, la mayoría de estas personas son gente que ya ha completado procesos de conversión y llevan varios años y en caso décadas observando el judaísmo de manera memética, algunos como iglesias, algunos como familias y como individuos.

38. ³⁸ Isaías 2:2-4 y su copia exacta en Miqueas 4:1-3. “Y acontecerá que en los postreros días, el monte de la casa del Señor será establecido como cabeza de los demás montes, y será ensalzado sobre los collados, y afluirán a él todas las naciones, pues ¿en qué debe ser él estimado? Pues caminarán muchos pueblos, y dirán: “Venid, y subamos al monte del Señor, a la casa del Dios de Ya’acov, a fin de que Él nos enseñe Sus caminos, porque también nosotros queremos andar en Sus senderos,” Entonces saldrá la Ley de Tsión y de Yerushaláim la palabra del Señor. Y Él juzgará entre las naciones, y reprenderá a muchos pueblos; y ellos romperán sus espadas, para hacer de ellas azadones, y sus lanzas trocarán en podaderas: no alzará espada nación contra nación, ni aprenderán más la guerra.”

Erez Sherman

In December of 2025, I received a call from Loyola Marymount University, a Jesuit institution in Los Angeles, inviting me to teach a course entitled Ideas of Zionism.

For many years, I had spoken from the pulpit about the increasingly difficult climate faced by Jewish students who openly identified as Zionists on the college campus. Students shared firsthand accounts of hiding their Jewish stars. One student even asked whether he should omit his Jewish identity from his dental school application for fear of rejection.

In April of 2024, just over a mile from my synagogue, Sinai Temple in Los Angeles, helicopters hovered overhead as they monitored the UCLA encampments. Hundreds of students chanted slogans without understanding the geography of the river or the sea. Jewish students were barred entry into parts of campus. Days later, the Jewish community organized a rally that ultimately contributed to the removal of the encampments by local law enforcement.

While I could describe from the pulpit the physical and emotional dangers many students faced, the truth was that I had not experienced those realities myself.

That is why, when Loyola Marymount first approached me about teaching Ideas of Zionism, I politely declined.

What if uttering the word Zionism led to the cancellation of the course? Who might enroll in the course—not in pursuit of understanding, but in an effort to silence discussion of Zionism altogether?

Loyola Marymount University had not offered this class since before October 7, 2023, before the word encampment entered the academic lexicon, and before Israel and genocide were routinely uttered in the same sentence.

While I do not possess a PhD in Israel studies, I do possess rabbinic ordination from the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, a Master of Hebrew Letters degree, and a profound love for Israel: the land, the people, and the state.

Bret Stephens, writing in the Sapir Journal, in his essay, “Israel Studies Can Redeem Academia,” observes

The answer to the problem of capture is to refuse to get captured. Perhaps that means recruiting people whose credentials don’t include the letters P, H, and D. Perhaps it means insisting that the purpose of an Israel studies program is scholarship, not advocacy.¹

With Bret Stephens’ inspiration, I refused to be captured. I answered the call to teach thirty college students the history, intricacies, nuances, failures, and beauty of Zionism.

On the first day of class, I placed four signs in the corners of the classroom. Each sign contained a different definition of “home.”

1. Home is the place where you were born.
2. Home is the place where you find spirituality.
3. Home is the place where you currently reside.
4. Home is the place of your people’s origin.

Students stood beside the definition that resonated most deeply with them. As they debated and defended their choices, deeper questions emerged. Can one have more than one home? Can there be both an individual and a collective sense of home? Can identity emerge from a synthesis of these categories?

The students began studying a passage from Yossi Klein Halevi’s Letters To My Palestinian Neighbor, exploring the tension between the need for a homeland and the longing for one. To what extent was Zionism a response to physical insecurity, anti-Semitic violence, and pogroms? To what extent was Zionism an enduring yearning for land, language, and culture regardless of the conditions of Jewish life elsewhere?

Not until the third class was Zionism defined as the right of the Jewish people to self-determination in their ancestral homeland. A student raised his hand and asked, “What is problematic with that?” That moment revealed the essential truth that teachers must cultivate questions, trust, and an intellectual foundation before offering answers. Zionism must be taught patiently, deliberately, and textually, one layer at a time.

The dates 1948, 1967, 1973, and the names Yitzchak Rabin, Golda Meir, and Menachem Begin were unfamiliar to almost every student. Yet, terms such as apartheid, colonialism, and genocide could immediately evoke in them associations with Israel.

Over the next five months, using Gil Troy’s The Zionist Ideas textbook, students explored six schools of Zionist thought: labor, political, revisionist, religious, cultural, and diaspora. Troy organizes each movement into three historical phases: the pioneers of the late nineteenth century through statehood, the builders of the twentieth century, and the contemporary thinkers of today. His work updates Arthur Hertzberg’s 1959 book, The Zionist Idea by incorporating female Zionist thinkers such as Golda Meir, Rebettzin Esther Jungreis, and Ruth Wisse, while still omitting non-Jewish Zionist thinkers.

As the next chapter of Zionist thought is shaped, it is imperative that the conversation be broadened to include Zionist allies beyond the Jewish community: Evangelical Christian leaders such as Bishop Robert Stearns and Reverend Johnnie Moore, who so tirelessly advocated for every hostage to be brought home with the risk of putting their own careers in jeopardy; African-American community leaders such as Pastor Michael Fisher and Pastor Dumisani Washington who travel to Israel and preach the moral and spiritual significance of Zionism; Muslim voices from moderate Arab societies such as Loay Alshareef and Anila Ali; organizations such as Sharaka, whose members march alongside the Jews at March of The Living; and the BAPS Swaminarayan Sanstha community, whose guru traveled to Israel in 1999 and placed a flower in the crevice of the Western Wall, praying that every prayer ever inserted there be answered.

The Zionist conversation must also recognize a new generation of Zionist heroes: released hostages such as Eli Sharabi and Omer Shem Tov, the brilliant writings of witness Rachel Goldberg-Polin, the thousands of NOVA musical festival massacre survivors, and the brave young men and women serving in the Israel Defense Forces who put their lives on hold to defend Jewish people worldwide.

The book of Zionist ideas is not complete. Each generation must contribute its own chapter.

It was only with a core foundation of Zionist thought that students could engage intellectually with current events that could not have been expected prior to the start of the semester.

What should the students make of the conversation between Tucker Carlson and Ambassador Mike Huckabee? How should the students understand LeBron James’ remarks during NBA All-Star weekend that he heard Israel was a “good country” and might one day wish to visit? How should the students understand the action of Javier Bardem wearing a red hand pin at the Oscars while shouting “Free Palestine” from the stage?

In a class called Zionist Ideas, reading text does not suffice. The students needed face-to-face conversation. Guest lecturers included Rabbi David Wolpe, IDF veterans, Christian Zionists, Gazans who had fled Hamas rule, Israeli AI experts, and Hollywood producers engaged in creating the genre of “October 7th” media that will shape how the next generation learns about that fateful day.

As the class dissected primary texts and grappled with the complexity of Zionism, they were forced to confront this question: Now that the Zionist project belongs to them, how will they become responsible stewards of it?

It may appear odd that a Conservative pulpit rabbi was chosen to teach this class. But given the strong historical connection of the Conservative Movement to Zionism, it makes perfect sense that Conservative rabbis throughout the United States should be teaching this class to Jews and non-Jews alike.

Why Conservative Rabbis?

To understand why Conservative rabbis are uniquely positioned for this work, it is important to unpack the teachings of the foundational thinkers of Conservative Judaism.

Their ideas are not Israeli government policies. Rather, they concern the relationship between Diaspora Jews and the Land and the State of Israel.

Solomon Schechter and Zionism

Naomi Cohen, in her essay “Diaspora Plus Palestine, Religion Plus Nationalism,” writes that Schechter once remarked, “Zionism was, and still is, the most cherished dream I was worthy of having.”² Theodor Herzl willed the dream into political reality, but Schechter believed the dream required continual spiritual, religious, and cultural renewal.

Born in mid-nineteenth-century Romania, Schechter came to America in 1902 to lead the Jewish Theological Seminary of America. His Zionism synthesized political, religious, and cultural Zionism. For Schechter, a Jewish state would combat assimilation, would plant a divine seed into the Jewish people, and inspire a renaissance of Judaism in America.

In his 1906 essay, “Zionism: A Statement,” Schechter argued that the anti-Semitic attacks he was witnessing were not new. Over a century later, Schechter’s words connect to the twenty-first-century Diaspora Jews, with the steep rise of violence Jews face daily. Jews are attacked in front of a synagogue in Los Angeles, Jews in England are stabbed getting off a bus, a synagogue in Michigan is attacked by a runaway car, and Jews are massacred on Bondi Beach.

Yet, there is one critical difference between Schechter’s era and today. Schechter dreamed of an Israel that he did not have. Today, Jews have an Israel that must be preserved and kept sacred, so that any Jew in danger will always have a home.

Schechter insisted Zionism encompass multiple interpretations.

For some it is a rebirth of national consciousness; to others, it is Jewish culture; and to yet others, it is a physical refuge for Jews to live safely. Each of these paths share one principle: a unified agreement that “Palestine, the land of our fathers, should be recovered with purpose of forming a home for at least a portion of the Jews, who would lead there an independent national life.”³

Schechter distinguished between Americanization and assimilation. To be an American was admirable: to understand American history and comprehend American literature. To become assimilated was tragic. We must not lose our Jewish dignity. Schechter teaches, “It is this kind of assimilation, with the terrible consequences indicated, that I dread most; even more than the pogroms.”⁴

In other words, the worst enemy of the Jew is too often the Jew himself.

One student in particular embodied Schechter’s warning. He admitted that when friends expressed anti-Israel views, he remained silent because, “they weren’t talking about me.” He could not recognize how anti-Zionist rhetoric was directed precisely at Jews like him.

Schechter’s warning had come to fruition a century later.

This student’s story did not end there. At the conclusion of the semester, after immersing himself in Zionist texts, he presented to the class how he now identified most with religious Zionism. He saw Israel as a place of spiritual resonance and he hoped to pursue Jewish leadership on campus. His study of Zionism became a rediscovery of Jewish identity itself.

For Schechter, Zionism must be as relevant to Jews who choose to live in Israel as to those who continually choose to live in exile, whether by choice or by necessity.

What will be the marker of Zionism’s success?

Schechter writes that the focus must be on not only what happens in Jerusalem or Zion but what will happen for Jerusalem or Zion.⁵ In other words, the Diaspora Jew cannot be disconnected from the religious connection of the land.

Today, even within the Conservative Movement, the younger generation is disconnecting from Israel in the same way Schechter warns against, separating Zionism from Judaism. Some Conservative synagogues refuse to recite the prayer for Israel, pulpits are no longer adorned with the Israeli flag, and rabbinical students protest the presence of Israel’s president at their own ordination ceremony at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America.

Conservative Jews must not waver from Conservative Judaism’s roots.

For the last decade, millennials who attended Camp Ramah and USY and Jewish day school now say they were misled. They proclaim the Zionism taught in Schechter day schools, on USY Shabbatons and in Camp Ramah is not the Zionism that matches their universal values.

Students today must ask themselves, What does a world without Israel look like?

A world where six million Eastern European Jews were marched to the slaughter house.

What does a world with Israel look like? A world where over 2 million Jews in Arab lands, in the former Soviet Union, and in Ethiopia travel to the promised land from homes where they were no longer welcome.

At the same time, Jewish sovereignty in Israel, with a functioning military and democratic parliament, begs a different question, posed brilliantly by Ambassador Michael Oren in his essay “Jews and the Challenge of Sovereignty:”⁶ What does the responsibility of power look like and entail?

Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion coined the term mamlachtiyut, the principle of how Jews must act in power of a sovereign state. Each step along the way, a Jew must ask if he is doing the moral thing, the right thing, and the Jewish thing.

Oren writes, “Our responsibility today is to prove to ourselves, and the world, that the phrase “Jewish state” is not in fact a contradiction in terms. We cannot simply rest on our laurels and promote the innovations of the stand-up nations, but we must also be able to claim that with our strength we have compassion.” ⁷

Moshe Hess, writing a few years before Schechter in his essay “Rome and Jerusalem,” describes the dishonorable Jew, not as the pious Jew with head bowed, but the Jew who is ashamed of his identity.⁸

Students today must walk through the world as Hess’ honorable Jew, with Schechter’s dream alive, and with Michael Oren’s ownership of responsibility that comes with the reality of fulfilling Herzl’s dream.

Heschel, Kaplan, and Ben-Gurion

The idealism of early Zionist thinkers must also be balanced against the realities of sustaining a sovereign Jewish state.

In his essay “Israel: An Echo of Eternity,” Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel writes

What is the meaning of the State of Israel? Its sheer being is the message. The ultimate meaning of the State of Israel must be seen in terms of the vision of the prophets: the redemption of humanity. The religious duty of the Jew is to participate in the continuous process of redemption.⁹

How are Jews to participate in this continual redemption?

Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan offers an answer in “A New Zionism,” arguing that Zionism must “reconstitute our peoplehood, reclaim our ancient homeland and revitalize our Jewish way of life.”¹⁰

Kaplan’s three directives will lead to deep interpersonal relationships and fulfill our religious mission.

Despite their theological differences, Heschel and Kaplan converge on a critical point: Zionism must not sever the Diaspora from the Land of Israel. The opposite is true; reclaiming our homeland has the ability to revitalize Judaism everywhere, and bind together Jews across the globe.

Policies and politics must not be the disturbance that prohibits Jews from reclaim the ideals of Zionism.

That is what Israel’s first prime minister, David Ben Gurion articulated when he wrote Am Segula: Memoirs, in 1970, when Israel was only 22 years old.

What is Israel? It is two things: an Ark and a Covenant; in other words, a refuge and a dynamic. I think the dynamic, the covenant, takes precedence over the concept of refuge.¹¹

Israel cannot be a static geographic location. Israel cannot only be a place for Jews to hide from the antisemitism of the outside world. Israel must be active, always growing, challenging itself as a sovereign state described by Michael Oren while refusing to become the ghetto that Kaplan sought to avoid. A covenant is not only for the present moment; a covenant when acted upon correctly is everlasting, a relationship that is continually built upon.

Covenants appear throughout the biblical tradition: Noah and the rainbow, Shabbat as a sign between God and the Jewish people. That continual covenant begins with revelation at Mount Sinai.

Rabbi David Hartman emphasizes that covenant in his essay “Auschwitz or Sinai,” as he responds to the argument that the Holocaust is the reason behind the creation of the State of Israel.

It was not Hitler who brought us back to Zion, but rather belief in the eternal validity of the Sinai covenant….we will mourn forever because of the memory of Auschwitz. We will build a healthy new society because of the memory of Sinai.¹²

If Israel only lives in the state of victimhood, then the covenant cannot and will not be renewed. Living with the optimism that each Jew has a part in the renewed covenant allows the Jewish people, with all the disagreements that are part of the people, to strive for the dreams of Schechter, Kaplan, Herzl, and the myriad of Jews over time who could only have hoped for the challenges and opportunities that the Jewish world has been gifted today.

How do Conservative Jews participate in that covenant living across the ocean? How do Jews who are not citizens of the State of Israel—who do not serve in the Israeli Defense Forces, but as Diaspora Jews—feel a deep connection to building the covenant of tomorrow?

From 1985-1988, the Conservative Movement published Emet v’Emuna, Conservative Judaism’s foundational philosophy. Within this document, the leaders of the movement articulated a vision of mutual dependence between Israel and the Diaspora.

Both the State of Israel and the Diaspora have roles to fill: each can and must aid and enrich the other in every possible way; each needs the other. It is our fervent hope that Zion will indeed be the center of Torah and Jerusalem a beacon lighting the way for the Jewish people and for humanity.¹³

This cannot be more true than in Los Angeles, California, the city with the third largest Jewish population in the entire world.

For the last five years, Sinai Temple has participated in the ShinShinim program in partnership with the Jewish Agency. Israeli high school graduates come to Los Angeles, live with host families, and teach the community about Israeli culture, society, and Hebrew language. They plan Yom Ha’atzmaut festivals, teach in our religious school, and instill Zionist pride in Diaspora communities. They often arrive with no religious background, having rarely or not at all set foot in a synagogue sanctuary.

Without fail, Jewish Diaspora communities learn a great deal from the ShinShinim, and equally without fail, the shin shin returns to Israel with a deep understanding of Conservative Judaism, of an egalitarian expression of Judaism that still struggles to take hold in Israel. To witness the magic of the ShinShinim program is also to comprehend the critical mission to further cement the Israel-Diaspora relationship.

Similarly transformative was the winter of 2024, when Sinai Temple hosted teenagers from the Eshkol Regional Council on the Gaza border for a week of respite after October 7. These young men had been members of a basketball team that disbanded after their homes were destroyed and their families murdered or help captive.

Initially, the teens and their coaches were resistant to entering a synagogue until their host families dragged them through the door. When they felt the warmth from the community and witnessed the welcome they received, they concluded Shabbat tefillah with a rousing rendition of Am Yisrael Chai standing on the bima with arms wrapped around each other.

The following year, the teens returned to Los Angeles. Synagogue attendance was optional, and yet every teen chose to come to Shabbat services because of the prior year’s experience. This is the covenantal relationship that the Conservative movement must nurture. Diaspora Jews strengthen Israeli Judaism even as Israel depends on Diaspora Jewish identity.

As the semester of Ideas of Zionism at Loyola Marymount University concluded, the students were administered an oral exam. There were two questions:

1. What led you to take this class?
2. How do you connect with Zionism after learning about it?

Student after student remarked, “I barely knew the word Zionism existed before I entered this classroom.”

These courageous students were not afraid to say, “I don’t know.” After months of study, they now know how to know. They were given the opportunity to learn, to engage, to ask difficult questions, and to think.

At the end of the semester, these students could identify that Zionism manifests differently across communities and individuals. They recognized that a Jewish democratic state is pluralistic, filled with arguments, and still under one flag. They understood that whatever Zionism one holds as their own, the central principle stays the same: the right of the Jewish people to have self-determination in their ancient homeland.

The complexity and beauty of Zionism can be seen in the composition of the Prayer for the State of Israel, Avinu Shebashamyim. Chief Sephardic Rabbi Ben Zion Meir Chai Uriel, who was exiled to Damascus in 1917 and returned to Israel in 1920, worked with Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, the first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi to unite the two distinct communities. In September 1948, Israel was only 4 months old, but these two rabbis came together to compose this prayer now recited in congregations around the world. Its central phrase, reshit tzemichat ge’ulateinu, that Israel should be the beginning and flowering of redemption, rings true through each text of every Zionist thinker.

As Gil Troy notes, the irony that two very different rabbis wrote this prayer, edited by the novelist Samuel Yosef Agnon and printed in a secular newspaper, is the epitome of what defines the Jewish homeland. It represents the dreams of the past whose echoes are still heard, the covenant that is renewed each day, and ultimately the hope felt when Hatikvah is sung toward the blue and white flag.

Be More

At the recent Leffell Rabbinic Zionism Conference in March of 2026, Ahmed al Khatib addressed 150 Zionist diaspora rabbis.

Ahmed was born in Gaza and lost his hearing due to an Israeli air strike. He also lost more than 30 members of his family in Gaza after October 7. At the same time, Ahmed speaks courageously against Hamas rule and for the moral reform within Palestinian society.

In front of 150 rabbis, Ahmed was asked how the Jewish community can help him after he has done so much for them?

Without hesitation, Ahmed looked at this group of rabbis representing thousands in their respective communities, and gave the group two answers.

He said, “Be more Jewish….and be more Zionist.”

His words were sincere. He meant it in the deepest way, in that Zionism must be more than a blanket love of a geographic location. Zionism must be a moral responsibility.

The students at Loyola Marymount also had the opportunity to engage with a Gazan, Hamza Howidy. Hamza left Gaza before October 7, after he was threatened by Hamas when he protested in the “We Want To Live” movement.

Hamza was asked, “What is your view on Zionism?”

He responded, “I am not sure what type of Zionist I am or even if I am one at all. But I do know what Zionism has done for the Jewish people, and I hope my people will work toward that same goal in the way your people have done.”

Sometimes it takes an outsider to remind us of the blessings we ourselves take for granted.

How many Jews take the time to study their own history in a deep way? The answer is not enough. For if they did, they would have the same response as the students when they were asked to describe their feeling toward Zionism in one word at the end of the semester.

One young man quietly said, “Healing. In a world where my entire knowledge of Israel came from my phone with posts and reels, it was healing to sit in a room, to learn these ideas, to process the history, to look at the maps, to see the pictures, to have face to face conversations with people—Jews, Arabs, Christians, faith leaders, politicians, and citizens, that live this reality each and every day.”

Od lo avdah tikvateinu—the hope is not yet lost.

The Conservative Movement, and particularly the Conservative rabbinate, has a critical role to play in sustaining this covenant for future generations. Zionism must not only be taught in afternoon religious schools and Jewish day schools. Conservative rabbis must be the ones to enter the college campus, bringing their intellectual rigor, theological depth, historical honesty, deep understanding of Zionism’s intricacies, and an enduring love of Israel.

The Conservative Movement stands on a mighty foundation. Let those dreams of the past enable the dreams of tomorrow, so that the eternal covenant will never be shaken between the Jewish people and the people of Israel. Students on college campuses are thirsty for knowledge, for a connection to a land and a people they barely know thousands of miles away. The Conservative Movement can quench that thirst and engage today’s generation in the eternal living covenant.

Rabbi Erez Sherman is the Senior Rabbi, Sinai Temple, Los Angeles, CA. He directs the Flesh Family Sinai Temple Israel Center and founded the Sinai Temple Israel Center Rabbinical School Fellowship.

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1. ¹ Bret Stephens, “Israel Studies Can Redeem Academia,” Sapir Journal 20, Aspiration (2026): 84.

2. ² Naomi W. Cohen, ‘‘ ‘Diaspora plus Palestine, Religion plus Nationalism’: The Seminary and Zionism, 1902-1948,” in Jack Wertheimer, ed., Tradition Renewed: A History of The Jewish Theological Seminary, vol. 2 (The Jewish Theological Seminary, 1997), 115-176.

3. ³ Solomon Schechter, “Zionism: A Statement.” Published in pamphlet form by the Federation of American Zionists, December 28, 1906. Reprinted in Mordecai Waxman, ed., Tradition and Change: The Development of Conservative Judaism (The Burning Bush Press, 1958), 457-466.

4. ⁴ Schechter.

5. ⁵ Schechter.

6. ⁶ Michael Oren, “Jews and the Challenge of Sovereignty,” in Gil Troy, ed., The Zionist Ideas (Jewish Publication Society, 2018), 334.

7. ⁷ Oren, “Jews and the Challenge Of Sovereignty,” 335.

8. ⁸ Moses Hess, “Rome and Jerusalem,” The Zionist Ideas, 247.

9. ⁹ Abraham Joshua Heschel, “Israel: An Echo of Eternity,” The Zionist Ideas, 247.

10. ¹⁰ Mordecai M. Kaplan, “A New Zionism,” The Zionist Ideas.

11. ¹¹ David Ben-Gurion, Am Segula: Memoirs, in Gil Troy, ed., The Zionist Ideas, 150.

12. ¹² David Hartman, “Auschwitz or Sinai,” The Zionist Ideas, 257.

13. ¹³ Commission on the Philosophy of Conservative Judaism, Emet Ve-Emunah: Statement of Principles of Conservative Judaism (The Rabbinical Assembly, 1988), quoted in The Zionist Ideas, 33.