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What does it mean to be Jewish in Israel? Language isn't the only thing beginning to divide Israeli society. Surprisingly, there is stormy debate, within Israel and abroad, over what constitutes true Jewishness and who rightfully can be considered a Jew. Like the recent tide of immigration, the debate seems to erode the bond that held Jews together through two millennia, the singularity that has been Israel's strength. The majority of Israel's Jews, like the Winternitzes and Ruthi Blank, are not particularly religious, and many are Jewish by culture only. They observe holidays with traditional food and ritual, but don't go to synagogue every week. But Israel is a government based on religion -- even if the majority don't practice it very attentively. There is no separation between church and state and no constitutional provision for religious liberties. The debate has come down to a clash between so-called ultra-Orthodox Jews, who insist that Judaism's ancient legal code be strictly followed, and other versions of the faith that have modified traditions to varying degrees. Ultra-Orthodox Jews -- recognizable in Israel by their Old World black coats and hats -- have won a share of political power in Israel greater than their numbers. And they've used that power to propose narrowing the standards of what it means to be Jewish in Israel. Anyone whose mother isn't a Jew, or who converted to Judaism through any but an Orthodox rabbi, would not be considered Jewish if their legislation is adopted by Israel's parliament. Only Orthodox Jews would be allowed to serve on religious councils in Israeli towns and cities. Only Orthodox rabbis could perform marriages. Only Orthodox schools would receive government support. Most Jews consider the proposal an insult and a threat to the unity they managed to keep intact through 2,000 years in the Diaspora. Most American Jews, who contribute millions of dollars to causes in Israel, belong to Reform or Conservative congregations and are enraged because they wouldn't be considered Jewish there. Non-Orthodox or non-practicing Jews in Israel worry because their government could fall over the question. The Orthodox chief rabbinate has threatened to withdraw religious parties from the coalition that supports Netanyahu if the proposal isn't accepted. As it is, the ultra-Orthodox insistence affects ordinary life in Israel. Because the Orthodox rabbinate decrees it, much of the country shuts down on Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, which begins at sundown Friday and ends at sundown Saturday. Hotel elevators all across the country shift to automatic, stopping at every floor so that ancient rules against lighting fires aren't broken by someone pushing a button and igniting a spark of electricity. On Saturday mornings, ultra-Orthodox Jews, walking to Jerusalem's Old City to pray at the Western Wall, stop to wag their fingers angrily at drivers. Sometimes they throw stones. "Arabs throw rocks at Jews in the Gaza Strip, Jews throw rocks at Jews in Jerusalem and into my heart," an American writer, Meryl Hyman, wrote in a recent book about the debate, "Who Is a Jew?" Hyman's father was Jewish but her non-Orthodox conversion as a teenager wouldn't be accepted in Israel if the ultra-Orthodox prevail. "Without conversion, I could become a naturalized citizen (of Israel) after about seven years," Hyman wrote, "but my identity card would state that I am a non-Jew. A similar card in an earlier time in another place would have insisted I was a Jew -- and marked for death." |
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