On the night of this year’s Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day for fallen soldiers), I was present at a Charedi ceremony held by the Netzach Yehuda organization, on which I serve as a board member. Around me sat many Charedi figures, among them rabbis of significant stature and well-known public figures (mainly from the Shas political party). At the close of the ceremony, the entire public stood up to sing Ani Maamin and Hatikvah. Next to me stood Rabbi Yitzhak Bar-Chaim, one of the organization’s veteran rabbis, and faithfully sang the words of the anthem in his usual variation: “To be a holy people in our country, the land of Zion and Jerusalem.”
The Heichal Shlomo hall in Jerusalem was full to capacity. Many of the soldiers who came to the ceremony, about two hundred in number, had to watch from outside the hall. According to media reports, about 1,200 men and women were present, and the ceremony was even broadcast live on the “Kol Chai” radio station.
Along with the intensity of emotion typical of Memorial Day, an Israeli blend of sadness and hope, my presence at the ceremony awakened a thought. Just six or seven years ago, I was invited for the first time in my life to attend a Charedi ceremony on the occasion of Memorial Day. The event took place in a living room in Bnei Brak, and was attended by some twenty people. As far as I know, it was the only Charedi ceremony that took place that year, and it goes without saying that it did not receive any media coverage. Within a few years, the social reality has shifted radically enough to allow for a central ceremony to be held with a prominent rabbi in attendance, alongside other Charedi ceremonies dealing with mourning and remembrance, and gratitude to the fallen whose death gives us life.
How was such a significant change brought about among the Charedi public, generally considered the most conservative group in Israel, in such a short period of time? What is the mechanism that made it possible, and what does it portend for the years to come?
The thought that flashed through my mind was in the form of a question. How was such a significant change brought about among the Charedi public, generally considered the most conservative group in Israel, in such a short period of time? What is the mechanism that made it possible, and what does it portend for the years to come?
The answer, as I will elaborate below, is social entrepreneurship. In this article, I would like to explain the centrality of social entrepreneurship for the present and future of Charedi society. Moreover, I wish to offer a Torah source for social action of this type in the Torah principle of zealotry that Chazal dub kana’im pog’im bo – “zealots strike against him.” I will argue that this halacha is a source of inspiration for positive and vital social action. The issues confronting us in Israel, specifically within the Charedi world, are deeply significant; the scope for action coming from the field is likewise huge.
The Absent Approval
What would have happened had Theodor Herzl, the great visionary of the Jewish State, taken advice from leading rabbis concerning the establishment of the State of Israel? Of course, no one can give a definitive answer to this hypothetical question. However, based on the rabbinic writings published at the beginning of the 20th century, it does not seem that the response would have been particularly enthusiastic. One such booklet, a compendium of rabbinic statements concerning Zionism, noted that “the [Zionist] deceivers know full well that the settlement of thousands of Jews in the Land of Israel among the rest of the nations that reside within it, and even more so to establish a Jewish state and a safe haven within it with the permission of all governments, is totally inconceivable” (Daas Rabbanim, 1902).
It is likely that the average rabbinic authority of those years (to make a generalization, of course) would have answered Herzl in the style of “leave it alone, nothing good will come of it.” Indeed, when a member of his household claimed that based on Kaballah, a Jewish state would be established before the advent of the Moshiach, the Brisk Rav retorted (close to the establishment of the state) that “even if this is written, it does not change anything from the prohibition involved in doing so” (Haggadah Mi-Beis Levi).
Only in retrospect did the “revolution in the name of tradition” (to borrow from the subtitle of Prof. Naomi Seidman’s book on the subject) led by Schenirer win the support of the Chaftez Chaim zt”l and other rabbis
This is true not only in relation to the State of Israel but also to a variety of other initiatives, including those that have become part and parcel of Charedi society. One example of this is the “Bais Yaakov” movement, which saved thousands of Israeli girls from the European youth movements and the secularism their militant secularism. Here, too, it is hard to see an Orthodox figure at the beginning of the 20th century backing the establishment of Sarah Schenirer’s revolutionary schools (one leading Chassidic Rebbe is reported to have responded, perhaps tongue-in-cheek, “All she really needs is a Shidduch”). Only in retrospect did the “revolution in the name of tradition” (to borrow from the subtitle of Prof. Naomi Seidman’s book on the subject) led by Schenirer win the support of the Chaftez Chaim zt”l and other rabbis – agreements that paved the way for its development and expansion to the enormous dimensions of today.
Many of the foundational developments of the Jewish people took place in this way. Chasidism, which took European Jewry by storm, arose despite strong (to put it lightly) opposition from the religious establishment. The massive immigration of European Jews to the USA (which over the years turned out to be instrumental not only in saving lives but even in the establishment of the State of Israel) was likewise not directed “from above” but simply developed from the field. Even the return of the Jewish people to the Land of Israel from the Babylonian exile and the building of the Second Temple were achieved notwithstanding deep tension with great national leaders who remained in Babylon (Yoma 9:2). Ezra the Scribe had to rely on sinners and those of lower class, Shabbos violators and those married to foreign women (see Nechemiah 13).
Indeed, the hand of providence works in ways that are sometimes not understood by us. It is enough to study the lineage of King David, which includes the stories of Lot and his daughters, Yehuda and Tamar, and Ruth and Boaz, to realize this. And yet, we must strive to find a Torah framing that can contain the type of activism that arises in every generation for the sake of God and His people. I wish to suggest a source of inspiration from the halacha, founded by Pinchas’s zealotry in killing Zimri: kana’im pog’im bo.
Kana’im Pog’im Bo
The doctrine of kana’im pog’im bo, “zealots strike him,” which enters the realm of halacha in the ninth chapter of tractate Sanhedrim, establishes a unique and unusual rule. If a zealot would come before the official court of law and ask the judges how to act, they do not have the authority to sanction the action (Sanhedrin 5:1). This is ruled in the words of the Rambam: “And if the zealot comes to take permission from a court to kill [the sinner], they do not instruct him to perform the action, even while the sin is ongoing” (Issurei Biah 12:5). Moreover, the Gemara and the Rambam explain that the sinner who the zealot strikes against is allowed to defend himself: “Moreover, if the zealous person comes to kill the transgressor and he withdraws and kills the zealous person in order to save himself, the transgressor is not punished for killing him.”
The usual halachic rule is that in every action must be sanctioned by the appropriate halachic authority, whose highest representation is the Great Beis Din. However, there are areas in which the halacha allows actions that are outside the scope of the court’s ruling. Had the zealot consulted with the halachic authority, however high, he would have received a negative answer: the deed should not be performed. Furthermore, the Yerushalmi teaches that Pinchas acted “against the will of the Sages,” and they even sought to have him banned (Sanhedrin 9:7).
Zealots, naturally, are no friends of the establishment. They challenge the system. However, in specific matters, the halacha itself revokes the authority of the court judges and entrusts it to zealots. These are the special moments for those who swim against the current and might often find themselves clashing with the system. The question, however, is determining the scope and parameters of such action. In a halachic sense, the concept of kana’im pog’im bo is limited to cases that are few and far between. As the Mishnah teaches, “One who steals a kasva, and one who curses with a sorcerer, and one who engages in intercourse with an Aramean woman, zealots strike him” (Sanhedrin 9:1). To which degree can the principal be applied in the context of social activism? What distinguishes the cases mentioned by the Mishna and what rule can be extracted from them?
Absent proper procedure, the court would cease to represent the sublime value of justice and fairness. In this spirit, the Mishnah states that the Sanhedrin must never be portrayed as being “murderous.”
The answer is that there are issues which are unsuitable for the official court’s treatment. The rule of kana’im pog’im bo applies to cases in which the act itself does not include the severity of the death penalty, or, indeed, any penalty at the hands of the court. Unlike other Torah offenses, it follows that as soon as the sinner desists from his transgression, there is no room for action, and it is forbidden for anyone to harm him. Killing him is not a retribution for his actions, but a response to the Chillul Hashem inherent in them. As Chazal explain, this is the reason that the law of “zealots strike him” applies only to transgressions committed in the public sphere, so that they include an element of Chillul Hashem. Given the severity of the situation, immediate and violent action is required – action that is inappropriate for an official court of law.
The court is the seat of judgment, a place where people are judged, sentenced, and the appropriate sentence is dispensed. Even in cases that do not conform to the accepted rules of justice, there is room for exceptions: “Beis Din strikes and punishes outside of the law.” (Rambam, Mamrim 2:4). However, the wheels of justice must forever grind slowly. Absent proper procedure, the court would cease to represent the sublime value of justice and fairness. In this spirit, the Mishnah states that the Sanhedrin must never be portrayed as being “murderous.” In the opinion of Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria, it is not proper for the Sanhedrin to kill even one For seventy years. Certainly, it cannot be involved in the violent and spontaneous act of killing the sinner.
For this purpose, zealots must come into their own.
Social Activism as Zealotry
The modern version of the biblical zealot is the social activist, operating in a civil framework outside of the official establishment. As with the zealot, the social activist’s framework is the Mishna’s instruction: “In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man (Avod 2:5). The social activist understands that there are areas in which the establishment has difficulty operating, and he works to correct the situation with the tools at his disposal. The social initiative is similar to the act of zealotry in two basic characteristics: high risk and public support.
The zealot operates in a framework of high risk. Zimri could have stood up and killed Pinchas, and in the context of self-defense, he would not have faced charges. The Gemara even teaches that Pinchas needed six miracles for his actions to be successful. Moreover, because he did not know that he would receive Divine assistance, Pinchas was forced to employ cunning and resourcefulness. According to Chazal, he waited until Zimri’s strength was exhausted and only then killed him. Rashi explains that “Pinchas did not know that the Holy One … was with him, so he needed to wait until his strength weakened.”
Acting alone or in a small group, the zealot does not even receive public sympathy; indeed, sometimes, the public condemns him severely for his actions. Of Pinchas, the Sages write that his heroic action (which saved the people from the plague) met with public disapproval: “Have you seen how this son of Poti [descendant of Yisro], whose father and mother fattened calves for idolatry, has killed a leader of Israel?” Hashem had to intervene in favor of Pinchas by establishing his lineage: “Scripture came and established his lineage: Pinchas, son of Elazar, son of Aaron the priest.”
The social activist seeks to do justice: moral justice, social justice. This is how the verse describes the action of the zealot: “Pinchas stood and intervened, and the plague was checked” (Tehillim 106:30). The Malbim explains that the word vayefallel (intervened) refers to a matter of justice (pelillim): “judgment in a matter of great urgency.” Like the zealot, the social activist identifies an area of injustice – needs of a group that are not adequately met, inappropriate behavior that has taken room among the public, and so on – and seeks to remedy the situation.
Like the zealot, the social activist identifies an area of injustice – needs of a group that are not adequately met, inappropriate behavior that has taken room among the public, and so on – and seeks to remedy the situation
The word tikkun, and in particular the expression tikkun olam, have become favorite expressions of the liberal currents of Judaism, but let’s not forget that they originate in the holy Jewish aspiration of “mending the world in the Kingdom of God.” Alter Chaim Levinson, a prominent activist within Agudath Yisrael party at the turn of the (20th) century, called his 1932 essays (entreating the public to join Aggudah “Tikkun Olam,” and a 1936 pamphlet promulgating the Munkatch Rebbe’s attacks against the trinity of Zionism, Mizrachi, and Agudath Yisrael was likewise termed “Tikkun Olam.” The social activist, like the zealot, strives for correction and begs the reward promise to Pinchas: This was credited to him as righteousness for endless generations to come” (Tehillim 106:31).
What areas are worthy of civic engagement that goes beyond the boundaries of the official establishment? The answer to this will vary from society to society. A secular society is distinct from a religious one, and even within frum society there are significant differences between different sub-groups. The general principle, however, is the same for every society: the establishment itself relies on extensive civic action that is necessary for the establishment of a good society. An establishment does not necessarily need to promote a Tocquevillian version of civic engagement, in which “Americans of all ages, all conditions, all minds constantly unite. Not only do they have commercial and industrial associations in which all take part, but they also have a thousand other kinds: religious, moral, grave, futile, very general and very particular, immense and very small.” Yet, every establishment needs it.
In the Charedi context, there are no shortage of examples of this type of activity. Charedi civic engagement includes many health and rescue organizations (“United Hatzala,” “Yad Sarah,” ZAKA, “Yad Eliezer,” and more), “alternative yeshivas” for boys who the official system failed, multiple initiatives in the psychological and therapeutic field (which in recent years has penetrated deeply into all walks of society), a wide variety of Kiruv organizations, a range of cultural and leisure projects, the establishment of academic institutions and vocational programs for Charedim, the organization of communities, institutions and Torah study programs for “working Charedim,” and so on.
The framework of kana’im pog’im bo, which involves high risk and an inherent tension with the establishment, will not fit all of these initiatives. Setting up a charity organization is not the same as operating in sensitive areas such as sexual abuse and domestic violence within the Charedi space. However, the common denominator is that they came into being by means of civic-Charedi entrepreneurship initiated outside of the establishment. Beyond the utility of these initiatives, they also possess profound educational value.
The Zealotry of the Tribe of Levi
Pinchas was a member of the tribe of Levi. And not for nothing. From the very beginning, Levi represents the disposition of zealotry, an inclination to act of official channels for the sanctity of the cause. The defining case was the wholesale murder of the city of Shechem, an act committed by Shimon and Levi under the moral pretext of “should she treat our sister like a harlot?” (Bereishis 34:31). Yaakov disagreed, and the depth of his opposition was revealed in the harsh words with which he censored the two brothers in the blessings before his death: “Shimon and Levi are brothers, their weaponry is a craft of violence. Into their conspiracy, may my soul not enter! With their congregation, do not join, O my honor! For in their rage they murdered people and at their whim they hamstrung an ox. Accursed is their rage for it is intense, and their wrath for it is harsh; I will separate them within Yaakov, and I will disperse them in Israel” (Bereishis 49:5-7).
The fact that, unlike the other tribes, the tribe of Levi does not have a share in the land of Israel (the tribe of Shimon, likewise, received its inheritance within that of Yehuda), indicates that it remains somehow outside the system – outside of the establishment. Levi was able to mend the negativity of his zealotry by harnessing it for the good, whether by following the call of Moshe to kill the main perpetrators following the sin of the Golden Calf or through Pinchas’s act of zealotry (and, later, by the heroism of the Hasmoneans). He thus received a wonderful blessing from Moshe Rabbeinu, which nonetheless reflected his basic disposition. The Levi tribe remained excluded from the inheritance of the land and from participation in the ruling establishment of the Jewish people. Instead, the tribe was given a spiritual role in the worship of the Mikdash and an educational role: “He shall teach Your judgments to Yaakov and your law to Israel” (Deuteronomy 33:10).
Translated into the modern world, the surprising choice of the zealous Levi as our national educator parallels the educational spirit, present in yeshiva institutions as well as in academia, which preserves a learning space unconstrained by external factors. True education, as represented by the tribe of Levi, cannot be subject to establishment restrictions; only thus can it thrive and innovate, as the Torah tradition must continually strive. Perhaps this is also why the Cities of Refuge for inadvertent killers are specifically cities of the tribe of Levi; those who deviated from the proper order of the world and disturbed the balance between one life and another can only be rehabilitated under the tribe of Levi.
Zealotry, and the modern equivalent of social initiative, must be done alongside the establishment and not in direct defiance of it. The line between the two may be thin and elusive, and it joins the dangers lurking for those who follow the path of Pinchas
The tribe of Levi even teaches us how operating outside of the established order can exist alongside the establishment and not in defiance of it. This is probably the significant difference between Shimon and Levi: Zimri, who hailed from Shimon, continued to hold on to the defiant side of the zealous disposition when he drew his Midianite partner before the eyes of Moshe and the people. Even if there was an element of truth in his action, as some Kabbalah sources explain – at the end of the day, the Davidic lineage emerges from Moab – his actions were a head-on collision with Moshe’s leadership. In contrast, Levi did not abandon his character trait yet knew how to channel it for the good. Because of this, although in the blessing of Yaakov was withheld from both, in the ultimate blessing of Moshe, Levi’s curse was rectified.
Zealotry, and the modern equivalent of social initiative, must be done alongside the establishment; although there might be tension, it cannot be done as an act of direct and brazen defiance. The line between the two may be thin and elusive, and it joins the dangers lurking for those who follow the path of Pinchas. Yet, society needs those willing to take the risk. Actions that deviate from the standard order are essential for every human society, and even Jewish society in all its various shades. Perhaps it is even hinted at in the words of the Rambam, who concludes his Laws of Shemitta and Yoval by stating that every person may join the tribe of Levi, separate himself from the order of the world, and engage in total dedication to the service of Hashem. Understood literally, the Rambam refers to the worship of God through “knowing Him” – engaging in the philosophical inquiry of Hashem that for the Rambam is the highest human calling. Based on the understanding above, perhaps the principle can be stretched to include emulation of the unique zealotry of the tribe of Levi.
Trust in God and Do Good
The verse instructs us to do good with confidence in Hashem: “Trust Hashem and do good” (Tehillim 17:3).
Doing good requires courage and willingness to pay the price. Sometimes it involves a significant risk. The combination of prices and risk reminds us of Queen Esther, who was willing to risk her life to save her people. She was successful in this due to her confidence in Hashem. Mordecai saw her hesitating and spurred her to action: “And who know if you have not reached the kingship for this purpose?” (Esther 4:10). Hashem’s salvation of His people must pass through the channel of human action, and you have a unique opportunity to join the fortunate few who take an active role in it.
Doing good requires courage and willingness to pay the price. Sometimes it involves a significant risk.
When David Friedman was asked if he was sure that moving the US embassy to Jerusalem would not lead to an outbreak of violence, he simply answered that no, he could not know for sure: “But I believed that we were on the right side of history and that we were fulfilling God’s will.” Others were less convinced, but Friedman knew he was doing the right thing. My wish is that we, too, too, should be able and willing to declare our readiness to do the good and the just, and to strengthen ourselves “for our people and for the cities of our God,” confident that “Hashem will do what is good in His eyes” (II Samuel 10:12).
Just mentioning on a history basis rav hirsch was the first to make a beis yaakov and sarah schnirer got her inspiration from reading about rav hirsch