A RELIGION OR A RACE?:

Jewish history presents many instances of boundaries being set, sometimes resulting in schisms. Those processes of "separation" weren't always simple, fast, or straightforward, but they have been a constant feature of the Jewish journey. Christianity is one such example. It was started by Jews, was deeply rooted in Jewish texts, and was purported to present a more "authentic" view of Judaism with what it believed to be the "correct" interpretation of biblical prophecies. That schism represented a dialectical process toward separation led by both Jews and early Christians. The breaking point was probably the defeat of the Jamesian faction (named after Jesus' brother who believed that Christians--then called Nazarenes--were an integral part of the Jewish people and subject to Jewish Law) by the Paulist faction, a group that looked to convert Gentiles and replace the obligations of Jewish Law with belief in Jesus. Originally, Jewish authorities were split, some favoring the exclusion of the Nazarenes, while others considered them to be simply another of the era's many sects. Eventually, the rabbinic authorities of the time understood that Christianity, with its belief in Jesus as a resurrected messiah, put them "beyond the pale"; the Paulist rejection of Jewish Law was the last straw in that separation process. A key factor was, simply, that the overwhelming majority of Jews had rejected Jesus' divinity. Rabbis were not only defending orthodoxy but channeling the majority sentiment as well.

Eight centuries later, the Karaites, of the Karaite movement led by Anan ben David, presented similar but different dilemmas. The Karaites believed that only the "written Torah"--not its rabbinical interpretations, called collectively "oral Torah"--should be the basis for Jewish observance. Karaist-adjacent attitudes had been present in Judaism since the time of the Second Temple (Abraham Geiger, for example, proposes that Karaites continue some Sadducean traditions). But in the 10th century the movement enjoyed a golden age of sorts that demanded a definition in terms regarding its role in Judaism. Rabbinical opinions diverge, as they often do, about how deviant Karaism was; but a consensus developed around the notion that Karaim were not, as a community, part of the Jewish people. Most medieval Jewish sages, notably Rabbi Yehuda Halevi, wrote powerful justifications for that exclusion. It wasn't so straightforward, however, for individual Karaim. Maimonides, for example, says that a Karaite can't be held personally responsible for the beliefs that his parents instilled in him and should be allowed back into the Jewish community if that's what he wants. Today the Israeli chief rabbinate considers some Karaim to be Jews, even though they are not considered, as a group, to be part of the Jewish people. Here again, it was critical that the majority of the Jews of the time rejected Karaism.

In other cases, like the followers of the false messiah Sabbatai Zevi, a herem (excommunication) was applied, signifying that he and his believers were not considered part of the community. The setting of boundaries wasn't easy in this case either. Many prominent Jews believed in Zvi's messianism; entire communities celebrated his arrival and some in Hamburg and Amsterdam sold their property and moved to the Holy Land in anticipation of redemption. The popularity of the movement was such that Rabbi Abraham Sasportas, a leading advocate of the herem, was harassed and ridiculed. But the majority opinion shifted dramatically when two major lines were crossed: Zvi's declaration that many mitzvoth did not need to be fulfilled anymore and, of course, his final conversion to Islam in 1666.

Not every polemic in Jewish history resulted in a schism or exclusion. The emergence of Kabbalah after the 12th century and Hasidism in the 18th century, for example, were both close calls. The "orthodoxy" of the time was extremely nervous about kabbalistic descriptions of the "inner life of God," which to them appeared dangerously close to polytheism. Hassidism posed many dilemmas; the most serious was likely the role attributed to the "rebbe" as a sort of intermediary between man and God. These fights were, in fact, more vicious that those we see today between Zionists and anti-Zionists, including some episodes we'd all prefer to forget, such as denunciation to the czarist authorities, imprisonment, and the like. The leading rabbi of the time, the Vilna Gaon, led the Misnagdim (opponents) and issued a ban against the Hasidism. Over time, however, a consensus seemed to emerge; as long as these new movements did not reject the monotheistic idea and continued fulfilling mitzvoth in a traditional fashion, they were considered "within the pale," even though the divisions between Hasidim and Misnagdim continue to this day.

In the 1970s, Jews for Jesus, the most visible face of the Jewish messianic movement, presented yet another dilemma, for they claimed to be fully Jewish while recognizing the divinity and messianic nature of Jesus as the Son of God. Consensus in this case was easier to reach. Not only rabbinical authorities but ordinary Jews tend to think the frontier of Judaism stops at belief in Jesus. In fact, in a rare moment of unity, all Jewish denominations signed on to a declaration that said that "though Hebrew Christianity claims to be a form of Judaism, it is not..."

The idea that a new movement can gain acceptance and become normative to the exclusion of others is at the root of Judaism as we practice it today.

Zionism is indeed a "new" movement. It is of course deeply rooted in Jewish history and belief, but it is clearly a product of the historical realities of the 19th century, in which groups of humans bound by certain particularities started to see themselves as "nations" and "peoples" with the right to sovereignty and self-determination within the framework of a nation-state. Some activists cite this supposed novelty as an argument against making Zionism a key parameter of belonging to the Jewish collective. How, they ask, can a movement that is so new become the litmus test of belonging to an ancient people?

But the idea that a new movement can gain acceptance and become normative to the exclusion of others is at the root of Judaism as we practice it today. Rabbinic Judaism triumphed over the Temple-worshipping priestly caste and redefined the basic tenets of Judaism. A new movement, in this case the Pharisees, changed the normative positions of Judaism over the course of a century, then excluded from the community those who didn't share them. Pharisaic Judaism was as "new" in the first century BCE as Zionism is today. It was as influenced by external forces (like Greek philosophy and hermeneutics) as Zionism was influenced by Hegelian views and Italian national "Risorgimento." Yet, despite their novelty, key beliefs of the Pharisees, such as the "world to come" or resurrection of the dead, became a sort of litmus test in order to be accepted within the rabbinical community. In a way, as Zionism does today, Pharisaic Judaism introduces groundbreaking innovations and then shifts the boundaries by redefining belonging. Here too, a key factor was that a vast majority of the Jewish people, especially after the destruction of the Temple, embraced Pharisaic Judaism.

In that sense, Zionism is deeply inscribed in a Jewish historic dynamic of boundary setting. If one argues against Zionism redefining the limits of belonging, one should also reject the lines drawn by Pharisees and welcome back into the fold the people they excluded--Saducees, Karaites, and Christians--as full members of the Jewish people.

Tweet   @brothersjudd