retrospective

Opinion: American Orthodoxy’s political suicide

Posted

The great writer Aaron Sorkin wrote: “Decisions are made by those who show up.” Sadly, if there’s anything the American Orthodox community has done over this past year, it has been to show up in all the wrong places.

The terrifying scenes of bonafide Nazis, KKK members, and anarchists running over Capitol Hill, staging an insurgency against the United States of America have terrified Americans and people all around the globe. The presence of Orthodox Jews among those thugs is the logical conclusion of what has happened in our community over the past four years. 

If this does not bother you on a moral level, let it be clear: American Orthodoxy has now earned itself political irrelevance that will leave its impact for years to come.

The hard work of many individuals and organizations have earned us the right to perhaps beg for something we need, but not much more; years’ worth of political capital has been destroyed.

While it is hard to know where to begin with this political autopsy, I will attempt to do so here:

City and state level. More than 1.1 million Jews live in New York City alone. Many more live in New York State. The decision of so many Orthodox Jews and organizations to confront the governor, the mayor, public health officials, and the NYPD yielded little fruit and huge damage.

With more than 100,000 yeshiva students in NYC alone and a governor who allocated more funding for Jewish institutions than any before him, one would think that the bull in the china shop would be slightly less aggressive. Yet Agudath Israel of America sued the governor, something I cannot imagine he appreciated.

Then came the infamous mask burnings in Boro Park, the beating of those who dissented, the Trump flags, and the exotic appearances of the Heschy Tishlers of the world with their color and gravitas, using graphic profanities against the mayor’s wife. Tweets of sympathy from recognized figures like Mark Levine, Rush Limbaugh or Ted Cruz can feel great; they won’t fund our day schools, synagogue security, or help us deal with the myriad issues that need to be solved locally.

In Congress. Eighty percent of congressional seats are decided during the primaries and most Orthodox Jews live in heavily Democratic areas; they have historically registered as Democrats and have had a strong voice in primaries. This year, Jews in many blue areas opted out of the Democratic Party, disempowering themselves and making their votes significantly less effective.

This was most evident in Riverdale, where longtime Rep. Elliot Engel, a Democrat who was also chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee and a true friend of Israel, lost his primary 55 percent to 40 percent to progressive Jamaal Bowman. This surprised many, especially as thousands of Orthodox Jews live in the area and should have been able to come through and vote for Engel. When Engel lost, I asked a friend who lives in the district if he voted, and he said no — he had registered as a Republican. His vote in a Republican primary in his area is as effective as his vote for the presidency of Narnia would be.

Rep. Max Rose, a Jew, a US veteran, and a reliable centrist, was unseated in Staten Island, which has a large Orthodox Jewish community, by Republican Greek-American Nicole Malliotakis. A group of Orthodox rabbis even signed a letter supporting her candidacy against that of Rose.

So we lost a sitting congressman who strongly supported Israel and the Jewish community from within the Democratic Party and Democratic controlled House, in favor of another obscure Republican in the Republican-minority House — mazal tov. Next time someone complains how far the Democratic Party has gone and why support for Israel is lower among its members, it will probably be true, partly because pro-Israel voters failed to stand up for those who support Israel.

US Senate. New Jersey Senator Bob Menendez was the first Democrat to break with President Obama on the Iran deal. This was partially due to having large pockets of Orthodox constituents who strongly opposed the Iran deal.

Senator Menendez paid a heavy political and personal price for breaking party ranks and opposing the deal. Then, at election time, the Orthodox community voted in large numbers for Menendez’s Republican opponent — something those who know Menendez said broke his heart. Menendez won the election anyway. Next time the Orthodox community in New Jersey wants to ask the good senator for something, it will probably be more difficult. NJ Senator Cory Booker, who didn’t listen to his Orthodox constituents and didn’t pay that price, likely feels little regret.

The Federal level. Whether you support it or not, the religious fervor for President Trump in the Orthodox community was unprecedented and unparalleled. Never in the history of Orthodox Jews in the United States has the community bet all of its chips and shown all of its support in such a one-sided way. Gone was the traditional wisdom and recognition that, in elections, there are winners and losers, or the notion that putting all eggs in one basket might not be smart.

The unprecedented religious fervor for candidate Trump was a losing bet.

Next time Agudath Israel of America claims it is a non-partisan group when it meets with government officials, they may have to explain why they chose to write a letter to Mitch McConnell supporting the nomination of Amy Coney Barret to the Supreme Court. It is unlikely that McConnel ever saw the letter. More likely is that city and state officials whose help our community really needs did see it. This was another example of us betting our political fortunes for no apparent gain.

The destruction of our ability to respond to anti-Semitism. Rabbis and Jews in every generation understood that how we behave as a community can impact how we are treated. Thus leniencies were made in halacha with the logic of mipnei darkei shalom or mishum eivah (for the ways of peace or for the concern of being targeted). Anti-lockdown Brooklyn was going to have none of it. They wanted to burn masks in the streets, sue Governor Cuomo, violate city and health regulations.

“Why can they loot and riot and we can’t do this?” came the question our parents and grandparents would never dream of asking. Previous generations knew that if you are Jewish, you must behave with extra courtesy wherever you are. Here we had a generation of young Jews who sought the ideal equilibrium between how to maximize bad behavior while expecting zero negative impact on our community. For the most part, they did this with little protest from rabbis and community leaders. This was the tone that dominated Orthodox publications and public figures.

• • •

One of the most powerful lessons of Jewish communal life has been that of the Jewish community in the United Kingsdom, which came together to fight the scourge of Jeremy Corbyn. Jews from across affiliations and backgrounds joined to defeat an anti-Semite of a generation.

Should there be another rise in anti-Semitism on the streets of Orthodox neighborhoods as we saw a year ago and the Orthodox community would like to build a broad coalition against it, other Jews might want to know why the Orthodox community was largely absent from the No Hate, No Fear solidarity march across the Brooklyn Bridge early in 2020. This rally was organized largely to support the Orthodox community, which was facing daily violent attacks — yet most of those same Jews ignored this event. At this rally I met Jews from Ohio and Florida who came in to support their Orthodox brethren — who could not make the ten-minute car ride to the rally.

Progressive Jews may also wonder why it is that when 400 (mostly non-Orthodox) rabbis signed a letter expressing grave concern for matters of life and death and supporting public health officials during the pandemic of a generation, they were attacked in response.

Then came the medical community. A physician in the field of critical care lamented to me not long ago: “How can people who ask me to do a surgery on their 90-year-old, brain dead relative with Stage 3 cancer not be willing to wear a mask to save lives?” I did not have an answer for him.

The voice of religion is one that is often invoked in the field of medicine, and rightfully so. Religion sanctifies life, which is why it has such a respected voice in the field of medical ethics, including in matters involving the beginning and end of life. The conduct of the Orthodox community during this pandemic, including its role and championing of SCOTUS decision, is likely to make its voice far less respected in the medical community.

At this writing, more than 3,500 people are dying from COVID every day in the United States. To be the culprits in tying the hands of public health officials during this time and then advocate against the medical community’s standards of end-of-life care evokes a mixture of irony and tears. If we end up finding that the our community members are dying at equal rates to those who go to hair salons at least we will know we earned that equality ourselves.

Turning on one another. With all of its imperfections, the most beautiful thing about the American Jewish community has been our ability to stand together and support one another. All that changed in the past year. Suddenly political affiliations superseded our longstanding bond with each other. We saw on the streets of Boro Park those who dissented get beaten and receive death threats. The minority of the Orthodox community that did not share the political views of the vast majority found themselves on the outs in the best case or actively being threatened in other cases.

My friend Rabbi Barry Kornblau, a longstanding member and leader in the Rabbinical Council of America and rabbi of a Young Israel in Queens, wrote an opinion piece arguing in favor of candidate Joe Biden. The response he got? Death threats, denigration, and violent rhetoric. [Editor’s note: Rabbi Kornblau’s article, which circulated online, was printed, alongside a pro-Trump piece, in the pre-election edition of The Jewish Star.]

My dear friend Jake Adler, a yeshiva graduate who worked for years successfully advocating for millions of dollars for Jewish day schools, got a job as Governor Cuomo’s liaison to the Orthodox community. His reward? Relentless attacks on social media, and Orthodox Jews trying to hurt him professionally. This vile behavior is unprecedented in the history of American Jewry.

My friend Rabbi Ben Kelsen, a black-hatted Orthodox rabbi in Teaneck, worked on former President Obama’s team and now on President Biden’s team and lives in Teaneck Bergenfield. His reward for trying to advocate for the community? Being called a kapo when leaving the house with his kids. While these examples are individual, they are not the only ones.

Members of the Orthodox community who didn’t align their belief with the Trump trend were made to feel, again and again, that they do not belong. A community that prided itself so much on its faith now placed another precondition for joining: political alliance to now-former President Trump. This kind of blind loyalty to political idols over human decency — in violation to Jews’ historic commitment to one another — is a low American Jewry has never seen.

The community has now succumbed to the ultimate destroyer of Jewish communities throughout history: It became deeply fractured from within. The consequences of a divided community are both moral and pragmatic. Fractured communities are less capable of thriving, growing, and representing themselves to the outside world.

The courts. While there is no question that religious communities are likely to gain more sympathy in the now conservative SCOTUS and other courts, that sympathy did not have to come at the cost of our voice in the political system and elsewhere. Furthermore, the Supreme Court does not pass budgets, build communities, and support day schools. Our communities depend on more than just a neutral space for religion. The Agudah may see its future spent in the courts and in the offices of big law firms, something which may yield some results, but it will not really deliver where most Orthodox Jews live.

• • •

I do not believe it is over — or close to over — for a proud and impactful Orthodox community. However, to move forward from its current stage, Orthodox Jews need to think hard about the following questions:

Is there room for those with different political opinions in our community? When we engage in kiruv and outreach, will we be telling people that not only do they need to keep Shabbat and kosher but that they also need to be Republicans? What kind of space will there be in our communities for those who openly express different political options?

Rabbis, leaders and laypeople will need to ask themselves what they are doing to make sure their communities have synagogues and yeshivas and not just a Jewish version of Liberty University. Communities will need to think really hard if they are driving away those with different politics and if that exclusion is forgivable from a religious perspective.

Those who purport to vote Republican because it is the “pro-Israel” party will need to ask: Is this support because of Israel or is it similar to the fact that in Hassidic New Square, 2,973 people cast their votes for Trump and 6 to Biden or that in Satmar’s Kiryas Joel 6,159 voted from Trump and just 72 voted Biden. I do not judge anyone for voting one way or the other, but when you say you are the “pro-Israel voter,” or when you shame those who vote for pro-Israel candidates in the Democratic Party when in fact, they are the ones working hard to assure support for Israel, that is an entirely different issue.

Just a year ago, Yisroel Besser wrote very wisely in Mishpacha Magazine an article about hosting non-Orthodox college students for a Shabbos meal and how they were turned off when they realized what his political positions are. He went on to advocate for a more politic-free Orthodoxy:

“These students searching for truth heard only about Trump. They missed the power of Kiddush, missed noticing the way a frum couple speaks to each other, didn’t perceive the unique dynamic of children who sit around a table and connect as a family, week after week.

“I had blown it by bringing Trump to the Shabbos table.

“I feel like many of us have fallen into the same Trump trap as the rest of America, forced to take one side or another. But we’re not politicians, so why go there at all? We all believe the same things, more or less. We all believe HaKadosh Baruch Hu put the man in power. So why shrink ourselves and all we have into the same little world where we check off boxes — are we Fox people or CNN people?

“We’re neither.”

While the message seems to have eluded its author, the publication and its audience in the months that followed, it remains true. An Orthodoxy that is toxically political is likely to turn off many — inside and outside its ranks.

The beauty of Judaism, our ability to communicate it to others, and our ability to represent ourselves to the outside world as standing for a higher value, will be severely damaged if we continue down this path.

That does not mean we should not be politically active. It does not mean it should be impossible for the vast majority of us to vote one way or the other. It does mean that our public sphere needs to be what it used to be — a Mikdash Me’at (a miniature Temple), conducted with wisdom and prudence even during challenging times.

The work towards this goal needs to come from each and every one of us, from rabanim, leaders of organizations, and publishers of frum weeklies who have taken an increasingly political role steering a community towards consequences editors and writers may not have to bear, but others will.

Let us begin the process of healing our community, as Rav Ahron Kotler famously told R’ Moshe Sherr: “If Hashem wills it, nothing is impossible.”

Rabbi Elchanan Poupko is president of EITAN The American Israeli Jewish Network.