
This is the second post in which I address mostly the critical comments that were posted following my latest article at The New York Times, “Ultra-Orthodox Jews’ Greatest Strength Has Become Their Greatest Weakness.” For the full article, click here. For part one of this post, click here. Also, listen to episode 100 of the Pandemic Times podcast, where I discuss with David Suissa the article and its aftermath (and many other things).
Now, let’s continue with comments and responses.
J Alexander Lederman posted on Facebook the following comment: Seems pretty unobjectionable to me. I think a lot of Haredim and Chabad people focus on the wrong things in this debate. They should take some criticism about the glaring (and very public) issues in their communities and stop overplaying the antisemitism card.
My response: Yes, I agree. And this is probably where I should refer, briefly, to the readers (more than a few) who responded to my article with a language which I can only describe as hysterical. I know, such is the nature of social media. I know, anger sells more than calm. I know, often a frustrated reader needs to vent, and using harsh language is a way to do it. And yet, it is important for a responsible leader of a community to identify a friend and a foe. This is true when he or she is frustrated with an unimportant columnist and is even more true when he or she is frustrated with a mayor or a governor.
Gidon Barak tweeted a verse from Exodus: “but the more they were oppressed, the more they increased and spread.”
My response: when I say “hysterical,” this is a typical example (along with the many references to Nazis, Germany, Goebbels, etc). For ultra-Orthodox Jews in America or in Israel to compare their situation to that of the Israelites in Egypt — or to hint that the pressure they fight is in some way similar to one applied to the Israelites in Egypt — is embarrassing. In fact, this is what I was trying to say in the article: It is time that the Haredi world acknowledges its success and stop pretending that it is under threat of an imaginary Pharaoh, be it the mayor of New York City of the Coronavirus Tzar in Israel. You are no longer oppressed. And that is a good thing. What’s not good is the insistence of some communities on behaving as if they are still in danger, and hence overreact to every suggestion that they alter their habits.
Samuel Koenig asked: “After 100 days of schools closed, thousands of BLM had fests in all the City parks for days but 4 small parks – only in Chassidic areas ordered closed. All subways and Buses were ope. The WHOLE time and no cleaning until late June. So be honest – fair?”
My response: This comment/question has a few components. Let me address them one by one. The first question is: Is it fair to ask Hasidic areas to close when other activities are allowed? The answer is simple. If Hassidic areas are infected, they should close. If other areas are infected, they should also close. If the city, or any other authority, closes infected Hassidic areas while allowing other infected areas to stay open, that’s unfair. Having said that, while fairness is important, preventing the spread of the pandemic is even more important. So, if Jewish areas are infected, they should close even if other areas are not closing. Not because it’s the fair thing — because it’s the smart thing.
Also, I must say that I am a little suspicious of the argument that the authorities discriminate against Haredi areas, compared to the policies in other areas. In Israel it is certainly not the case. And yet, Haredi leaders kept pushing back against any attempt to impose restrictions on their communities (using the same hysterical language as if these authorities are anti-Semitic, see example here).
Here is what I think about the argument of discrimination:
- It is possible that in some cases, a political leader or an institution was uncareful in generalizing a complaint against Haredi Jews. I do not think this was common, and do not see a disproportional targeting of Haredi communities (look at how Israel deals with the similar problem of violations in Arab towns).
- In cases of unfairness, I’d assume that a quiet dialogue would solve the problem. That is, because Israel and American authorities are not anti-Semitic or anti-Haredi.
- The instinctive tendency of many Haredi leaders to cry “anti-Semitism” every time someone dares speaking critically about Haredi behavior is a bad habit.
Peter Friedman wrote: “They would never get away with writing anything like this about any other group (religious, ethnic, racial). Actually, they would never even think about treating any other group like this.”
My response: Let’s parse this comment.
First, I am not sure whose “they” in this tweet. If this means “they” as in The New York Times, I will let them handle it. If this means “they,” as in “all those wicked columnists,” this is factually untrue. I wrote volumes of articles about other groups, including, Arab Israelis (for The New York Times), Religious Zionists, Jewish Americans, Palestinians, and many more.
Second, it’s not clear what Friedman means by “writing like this.” Like what? I assume this refers to writing about the ultra-Orthodox as a group, to which I must respond, again, that it’s done all the time. In fact, there is no way to write about the world without thinking about groups such as “Israelis,” “Americans,” “Hispanic voters,” “Evangelicals,” and so on. This is all fair game under three strict rules:
- That what one writes about the group is fact (I refer to the issue of fact vs. fiction in the first part of this post).
- That one makes sure to note the many exceptions.
- That there is meaning to writing about the group as a group. For example, it means nothing to write about why Israelis have ears. There is nothing unique about them having ears. It does make sense to write about “why Israelis support Trump.” Do all Israelis support him? No, but generally speaking, this is a correct statement if the obvious caveats are mentioned (not all Israelis support him). Also, it is a relevant Israelis support Trump because of them being Israelis.
The same is true for the article about Haredi response to the coronavirus. What I wrote is generally correct (but not all Haredi families and communities behave in the exact same way). What I wrote is also clearly relevant, because (and of course, this is a matter on which we can have a debate) Haredi response is uniquely tied to the way they live, think and engage with other parts of society.
- Jebrasky wrote: “Who is a Haredi Jew? I know Hassidic Jews. Litvish Jews. Modern orthodox. Chabad. Sephardic. Yekkesh. Yeshivish. Harries. There is no umbrella Haredi community in America. Your headline reveals your ignorance.”
My response: My tongue in cheek response would be — a Haredi Jew is the one who says he is Haredi when it fits him and say there is no such thing as Haredi when it does not fit him. Seriously, Haredi Jews come in many forms and have many viewpoints and practices and communities. But much like “Americans” or “Muslims” or “vegetarians” the variety does not preclude the fact that there is also a group with certain characteristics that includes all subgroups in one way or the other.
So yes, Litvish and Hassidic Jews are not the same, but it is not a coincidence that they merged to form one political list for the Israeli Knesset. And yes, they are all different, but both Yeshivish Rabbi Kanievsky and Hassidic Rebbe of Vizhnitz defied the authorities when schools were closed. And all those who argued that writing about Israeli and American ultra-Orthodox Jews complicates things have a point. American Haredi Jews are different from Israeli Haredi Jews. And yet, both had trouble adjusting to the new rules of the pandemic and for similar reasons.
You do not agree with such conclusion? I am open to having a debate. But to have it, we must first get rid of obstacles, distractions and insinuations such as “you are not familiar with us,” “everything you say is wrong,” “if it’s the New York Times it must be bad,” “you hate Haredi Jews,” “you hate Jews,” “the Mayor of New York hates Jews,” “you can’t write about us as a group,” and so on and so forth.
Lebedig Yankel tweeted: “God doesn’t change nor do we change.”
My response: Well, that’s a lovely myth, if it weren’t complete nonsense.