No skullcap will cover this gaping gash in our collective act

The sorry incident at the Yad Vashem Holocaust museum reflects an exceptionally unfortunate mishmash concocted by Israeli culture.

By Avirama Golan | Oct. 13, 2013 

An embarrassing incident happened at Yad Vashem last week during a visit by the Prime Minister of Greece, Antonis Samaras. Like every state leader who visits Israel for the first time, Samaras took a tour there — and surprised his hosts by refusing to cover his head with a skullcap.

His hosts chose to let it go, but their reservations and humiliation at the act were evident. The Greek prime minister’s refusal to wear a skullcap at Yad Vashem was seen as a show of contempt for the honor, or the sanctity, of the place and for the Holocaust in general. Israeli officials responded the same way in 2005 to the absolute refusal of Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Only the significance of the relations between Israel and Turkey prevented a scandal then, as well.
It is hard to assume that Samaras, who arrived here several days after outlawing the Greek neo-Nazi movement Golden Dawn, and who is interested in stronger relations with Israel, intended any insult. Actually, it is not clear what was unreasonable about his behavior. With all due respect to the countless number of world leaders who were photographed wearing the black skullcaps of yeshiva students from Brooklyn, or the white skullcaps of bar mitzvah boys in Kfar Sava, the ceremony of having guests put on a skullcap at Yad Vashem is odd, and mainly uncultured.
What sort of skullcap are they thinking of? Jewish law does not explicitly require men to wear a skullcap, which is a fairly new custom. The custom of covering the head in public goes back to Rabbi Joseph Caro’s ruling in his work, the Shulhan Arukh, that “a man should not walk four cubits bareheaded,” but aside from covering one’s head in the synagogue or during prayer there is no ruling on the matter. Any rabbi who is asked about it over the past few years answered that it is an “attribute of piety” — in other words, it is a personal choice motivated by one’s own conscience. In addition, it is a symbolic act that expresses identification with the religious way of life.
More than anything else, the skullcap — whether black or crocheted in all sorts of colors and sizes — is the identifying mark of a particular religious community, just as the streimel, or fur hat, is the identifying mark of another Jewish community. Why, then, should Antonis Samaras, the head of a country for whom the Greek Orthodox Church is one of its main national and cultural symbols, have to dress up as a group leader of the Bnei Akiva youth movement?
The justifications offered for why the guests must wear skullcaps are just as bizarre. According to Yad Vashem officials, since the ashes of Jews who perished in the Holocaust are buried there, Yad Vashem has the status of a cemetery, and the army rabbinate even sanctified the place. It’s true that in the past few decades everything sounds logical, but what on earth does the military rabbinate have to do with the victims’ ashes, and what authority does it have to “sanctify” the museum commemorating the Holocaust? Even if we say that Yad Vashem has the status of a cemetery, what obligates anyone to wear a skullcap there except during prayer services (an act that obligates only observant Jews, while others are invited to wear it out of respect for the service, not out of respect for the place)?
That being the case, the story of the skullcap reflects the moral mishmash concocted by Israeli culture, in which the memory of the Holocaust mixes with national feeling and the army, and the only thing gluing them together is a hollow, ignorant, ceremonial religiosity. It seems that Israel has completely lost confidence in the story of its life and existence. If that were not true, it would not engage in a schmaltzy, Hollywood-style mourner’s prayer, and force its guests to play a role in it that detracts from their honor. It certainly would not do this at Yad Vashem, that absolutely unsanctified but impressive place, whose importance is second to none.

It’s time to get over ourselves: The lessons of the Pew survey

Facts rarely shape or change our opinions. We prefer to select the facts that mirror and justify that which we already hold. The release of the recent Pew survey, A Portrait of Jewish Americans, with its treasury of facts and figures, has caused a tsunami among Jewish leadership and social media as we all scramble to locate the facts that can serve our preexisting individual or institutional purposes and cherished “truths.” 

This process has a celebratory and self-congratulatory feature. For example, many Israeli voices find in the survey the proof that they have been searching for to justify the Zionist claim of the unviability and unsustainability of Diaspora Jewish life. Some within Orthodoxy find evidence to the unviability and unsustainability of a liberal Judaism. Many voices within other denominations find evidence proving the superiority of their approach. The discourse around the survey invariably takes on a form of “I told you so.” When one frees oneself from one’s ideological and institutional loyalties, however, the survey provides important information and insight into the nature of our people and future directions which may warrant consideration.

One interesting fact exposed by the survey is the scarcity of movement from less to more observance. People leave their denominations to become increasingly Jewish without religion, but rarely increase their commitment to tradition with its consequent faith and required practices. The fundamental lesson to be learned is that we all have to get over ourselves. Whether our denomination or belief “fares better” in the commitment of its adherents to Judaism, raising children Jewishly, and to the State of Israel, it is simply irrelevant. The less or differently observant are not going to change, if change means accepting religious presuppositions and categories which are at present alien or absent in their lives.

Diversity is not the product of failed education or the lack of exposure of one group to the truth and beauty of the other. We differ Jewishly because as people we have different notions regarding the essence of our tradition, and different approaches to what makes a life, a life of value. The plurality of Judaisms which are evident, are the result of an ideological gap and not a lack of knowledge.

The fundamental challenge we face regarding the future vitality of our people’s Jewish identity and commitment is how to create ideas and experiences internal to each conceptual and ideological framework which are capable of garnering greater excitement and depth of commitment. In the end, “victory” will not be achieved through the withering away of those who disagree with me nor through the proven sustainability of my approach. As I said above, we have to get over ourselves. Victory will be attained when ever-increasing numbers of Jews, regardless of their affiliation or lack thereof, will feel more deeply connected and committed to their Judaism.

In this process, it is critical to distinguish between that which is a core and essential feature or reality of a particular Jewish ideology, denomination, or sociological classification and from that which is a current manifestation and expression alone. The facts which shed light on the latter provide insight for educational responses and new programmatic possibilities; the facts that shed light on the former obligate us to reshape our definitions of ourselves as a people.

Thus, for example, even if living in Israel, being Orthodox, or not intermarrying increases the chances of one’s children being Jewish, this is merely a statistical fact as to the new reality of contemporary Jewish life and not one with educational or programmatic significance. North American Jews on the whole are not going to move to Israel, abandon their liberal sensibilities, nor stop marrying fellow Americans who embrace them and want to marry them. These are not current manifestations of 21st century Jewish life, but ongoing and core features of this reality. The key question for the future of Jewish life is not whether one can change this reality, but what one must do to change the seemingly detrimental consequences of this reality for the future of Jewish identity. Accepting this is one of the greatest challenges of leaders and ideologues – to work within a given reality in order to improve it instead of fantasizing about shaping it in one’s image.

An interesting, important, and as yet open question is whether the move away from institutions and denominations as identified in the survey, is a new reality or merely a current manifestation. That Jews see Judaism and Jewish identity increasingly in terms that are less religious, I suspect is a reality. Here, paradoxically, North American and Israeli Jewry are becoming similar. The religious-secular divide of Israel is increasingly an appropriate lens with which to view North American Jewry as well. But as we have been learning here in Israel over the last decade or so, the categories of both religious and secular are neither monolithic nor one-dimensional.

For example, secular does not mean less Jewish but differently Jewish. While most secular Israeli Jews believe in God, the essence of their secularity is not determined by their faith but by the fact that they do not see in the worship of God and the rituals it entails, an essential part of their Judaism. Jewish secular Israelis can have a robust Jewish life which entails commitment to Jewish values, observance of the Jewish calendar and lifecycles, participation in Jewish culture and learning, and loyalty to the Jewish people and their well-being. Many of these features are or can be defining aspects of a future, vibrant, “less religious” North American Jewry.

The open question is whether Jewish institutions and denominations can adapt and continue to serve as important vehicles for deepening Jewish identity and connections. It is my hope that what we are seeing is merely a contemporary manifestation and not a new reality. Our institutions will require new thinking as they reimagine their roles, but I believe we will do a huge disservice to our future if we believe that we will be better served without them. The human being is still a social animal in need of community, particularity, and individual connections. We are still in need of partners, friends, services, assistance, guidance, and leadership at different moments of our lives. We still experience moments when a connection to our past is a source of strength and inspiration. An innovative and courageous educational, religious, and lay leadership are capable of providing the above, so long as we are open to rethinking the way we approach our tasks and define our goals.

One of the important features of our tradition’s understanding of Jewish identity is that it is a national one and not merely a religious one. One becomes Jewish through birth, conversion, or marriage and remains so regardless of faith and practice. Consequently, sociological data about the Jews are not merely descriptive but definitive as to who we are. Modernity and in particular, life in Israel and North America have changed the rules of the game. The question is how we are going to play.

By Rabbi Dr. Donniel Hartman - President of Hartman Institute, Jerusalem