Orthodoxy – in Israel and the Diaspora

As I once again spent a few weeks in Yerushalayim for family reasons I had opportunity to observe how Orthodox religious life in Israel – especially that termed Charedi – differs from its counterpart in Diaspora communities such as here in Australia.

Let me preface my comments by saying that certain segments of the local Orthodox community may well resemble their Israeli counterparts in regard to the intensity of much religious practice. And, Ashkenazi and Sephardi heritage and cultural differences aside, the Orthodox Jewish world of Israel like that represented in Australia, is composed of a continuum of levels of “religious” involvement rather than just segmented communities.

Nevertheless, there clearly are differences between Israeli and Diaspora communities which will amaze, bewilder or simply concern the onlooker.

Firstly there is the issue of communal isolation. Whereas in the Diaspora Orthodox Jews live among the general community and inevitably absorb, at least by osmosis, aspects of the general way of life, most Israelis – secular or religious – have very limited – even little – contact with non-Jews (other than Arab workers) in their daily lives.

But beyond that reality, many members of the Israeli Charedi community also have little regular contact with Israeli Jews outside their own community. And I have been amazed to find how many secular Israelis have literally never had anything to do with “religious” Jews or “religion” (perhaps other than a chance meeting with a Chabad shaliach stopping them in the street).

On one occasion some years ago, standing on the plaza above the Kotel, I listened to a chayelet telling a group of soldiers basic facts about the Kotel and its surrounds. When she finished and sent them down to the Kotel, I approached her for a chat, expressing some surprise about the their apparent lack of knowledge. I was stunned to hear that such visits were an essential part of the IDF educational program. The reason for this program segment was exemplified by this particular group that included people from secular kibbutzim in the north – some of whom (despite living in Israel until having reached army age) had never visited Yerushalayim – especially the Old City!

While one might suppose this to be an extreme example, the reality is that many residents of Israeli self-contained neighbourhoods have little reason to make outside contacts unless they work outside their residential area. This is particularly the case of Charedim – where men and women work and even shop only within their communities. Barely a kilometre separates Rechov Meah Shearim (the Charedi central thoroughfare) from Rechov Yafo (the city centre main road) but walking along them one could literally be in two worlds thousands of kilometres from each other.

And Charedi families shun the regular media. I find it disturbing that in many religious neighbourhoods of Yerushalayim I can’t even buy The Jerusalem Post – let alone secular Hebrew dailies such as Haaretz and Yediot Achronot. Israeli Charedim tend to read only Charedi newspapers and the content of those newspapers is strikingly different from that of the general press. Headlines regarding the movements and utterances of rabbis and rebbes often take precedence over current affairs – even matters relating to Yerushalayim or Israel. Even in the current climate the war too (other than a missile impact in a Charedi neighbourhood) got much less coverage than one might expect.

Many listen only to religious radio stations and certainly do not have access to television. Nevertheless, as far as online electronic media are concerned, whilst there is serious opposition in principle (expressed on street posters and by street demonstrations in Charedi neighbourhoods) inevitably cracks are appearing in practice – many a Charedi group now has its own website even if not extending its involvement to other aspects of social media. However Israeli Charedim are unquestionably far more insular in this regard than their Diaspora counterparts. And of course a reverse impact of this reality is that the secular community lack opportunity to gain an understanding of the most Orthodox lifestyles.

Even outside overtly insular Charedi communities, other segments of the Israeli Orthodox community tend to concentrate their contacts among themselves albeit that they do have much greater levels of interaction with others. And they too prefer more religiously based or at least empathetic media elements, to the extent of shunning others.

At a different level, in an Orthodox neighbourhood of Jerusalem, there are few males who do not regularly attend services, as far as possible both in the morning and evening. Thus so many shules do not only have one service each weekday morning and evening which is poorly attended by comparison with services on Shabbat and holidays – the latter situation being that in most Diaspora communities and suburban Australian shules except the most intensely Orthodox. Many Jerusalem shules – and shules elsewhere in Israel – have multiple minyanim operating from before sunrise until three or four hours into each morning. Similarly, minyanim for Mincha and Maariv – afternoon and evening services – form continuously both inside and outside shules from some time before sunset until well into the night. There are also few men or women who do not devote fixed times in the day or week to shiurim. In almost all cases the shiurim are not just lectures “about Judaism” but involve more intensive study of advanced texts, copies of which are a feature of every home.

Regarding kashrut, practices also differ. A variety of Israeli kashrut authorities reflect differences between Ashkenazi and Sephardic custom; others reflect variants between the standards of the Charedi communities and those set by the official city rabbinate (albeit that these too tend to be becoming stricter).

Differences between different kashrut authorities in the Diaspora tend to be nowhere near as stark – and often are rooted in communal historic and financial issues rather than such matters of halachic principle and custom. In Yerushalayim, despite inroads of Tzohar and the so called “Kashrut Mehuderet” facilitated by regulatory change instituted by the current government, the mehad­­rin (enhanced) standard rules – an estab­lish­­ment using anything less would exclude half of the local market.

Especially in Yerushalayim and across Orthodox neighbourhoods elsewhere, including satellite towns that are expanding for reasons often relating to housing affordability, there are also different emphases in regard to dress. Traditional forms of Chasidic dress and the hat and jacket attire for (especially Ashkenazi) men aside, there is much more emphasis on “modest” dress and head coverings for women ranging from the headscarf to the sheitel. But even within Israel it can be quite a culture shock to make the one-hour ride from Yerushalayim to Tel Aviv where modes of dress and general appearances are so different from those of Yerushalayim even in its less Orthodox neighbourhoods. Of course there are exceptions to these lifestyle emphases. Inevitably Israeli communities with a stronger immigrant representation be they in Modi’in, Ra’anana and portions of Beit Shemesh are less inward looking. The same is to be said of all communities where many have had higher education and achieved professional qualifications, and who have broader professional and client networks.

Perhaps the most significant downside of the insularity of Charedi life is a product of the Charedi disdain for secular Israeli culture of which they hear much even if they lack contact. The lack of inter-communal contact may serve the purposes of Charedim seeking to maintain a lifestyle, but it also means that the secular Israeli population know little of the realities of Orthodox and Charedi life. No wonder that one often finds in the broader Israeli community and media a lack of understanding of attitudinal differences between say Chasidic Charedim, their non-Chasidic counterparts and the fully Orthodox members of the National Religious community.

Let me add that in these lines I have deliberately not even touched upon the existential social issues of army service and education for professional participation in daily and communal life – it would need much more space than I have available here to do those crucial issues justice.

Resolution of the lack of understanding and attendant prejudices is a task requiring urgent attention in the interests of the future of a united Israel. A little more openness in this regard would be useful in the Diaspora as well.

Shabbat shalom,

Yossi

Yossi Aron OAM is The AJN’s religious affairs editor.