At this difficult time, we must all ask ourselves what Hashem wants from us. Participation in the defense of Israel; provision of material and personal support for those in Israel facing difficulty; and every effort of teshuvah, tefillah and tzedakah are invaluable. But in addition, a priority of our national teshuvah must be to overcome the sinat chinam, the drastic divisiveness that continues to characterize Klal Yisrael.
In the months preceding the Hamas attack, the Jewish people were viciously attacking each other. The debate over judicial reform in Israel had transformed into full-fledged war between two camps and their competing visions for what Israel should look like. Even Yom Kippur davening precipitated a confrontation in the streets of Tel Aviv, with a rematch expected on Simchat Torah. Instead, on that day a very different war broke out, leading us—for a time—to stand together against our real enemies.
That brief respite has long passed, and we are again experiencing deep divisions between us. The issue is all-encompassing, undermining our fundamental identification as goy echad ba’aretz1 and visibly affecting our ability to work together, benefit from each other, influence each other, and stand together as a unified community to confront our many external challenges. In the words of our Sages,2 “im ein shalom, ein klum—without peace, we have nothing.” And when we are so internally rancorous, we can hardly complain about the antisemitism that surrounds us. If Jews act hatefully toward Jews, why should we expect non-Jews to love us?
How do we remedy a problem that has bedeviled us since the days of Bayit Sheini?3
We may be incapable of completing the task, but neither do we have the liberty to avoid it.4 As our internal problems intensify, we must not allow business as usual but do real work to address them. We need to make the pursuit of peace and unity a movement, the subject of ubiquitous conversations and brainstorms, such that what we say and what we do on every level takes into consideration the potential impact on the connection between Jews.
When we are so internally rancorous, we can hardly complain about the antisemitism that surrounds us.
We must not delude ourselves into thinking that the solution lies in generating more acts of chesed. As Chazal5 have taught us, sinat chinam and gemilut chasadim can coexist. We remain painfully divided today despite the already astonishing abundance of chesed projects and organizations. There is no doubt that if a woman wearing tefillin would collapse at the Kotel on Rosh Chodesh, any of those protesting her would instantly run to revive her. Our efforts must proceed beyond engaging in acts of kindness to focusing on changing attitudes and feelings, nurturing an ironclad commitment to stand together lema’an achai v’rei’ai.
We must also not satisfy ourselves with achieving emotional unity. In the period immediately following October 7, it seemed that no Jew would speak negatively of another, and every Jew was ready to do anything for another. How did we then revert to our old divisions and then some? It appears that our ahavat Yisrael arose as an emotion rather than a principle. Our strong feelings for each other emerged during the very raw period following the attacks, but when those feelings subsided and we moved beyond emotion, little weight was given to the impact of a particular decision on the connection between Jews. If we are to reduce sinat chinam, those ramifications must be made a significant factor in our policy decisions: Preserving unity and connection between Jews must be a guiding principle, not just an emotion.
At the same time, can we tolerate a pursuit of unity that requires the subordination of other principles? Does elevating the considerations of sinat chinam and ahavat Yisrael imply putting other values aside?
In praising the overall harmony between the ideologically divided and constantly debating schools of Shammai and Hillel, the Talmud6 cites the words of Zechariah,7 “ha’emet v’hashalom ehavu—love [both] truth and peace.” Shalom is one principle in play alongside our other values. Hillel and Shammai demonstrated that vigorous debates can continue as brothers and sisters work together to solve shared problems with vaheiv b’sufah,8 a clear commitment to a loving ending where ahavat Yisrael prevails. But how? How do we reach that peace without forsaking principle?
Maharal of Prague9 offers a fascinating and instructive understanding of sinat chinam that can help us chart a course to its resolution. He remarks that outsiders notice and wonder about the prevalence of internal argument among Jews. If the Jews are the chosen and good nation, how are they so often drawn into the evil of argument with their coreligionists?
Maharal notes that the name Yisrael was given to Yaakov when he prevailed over the angel of Eisav—ki sarita im elohim v’im anashim vatuchal.10 That characterization forged the identity of his descendants, the Jews, as people ready to fight for their own vision of goodness to prevail and not allow the ideas and designs of others to subordinate their own. While this drive to prevail derives from our idealistic dreams to positively shape the nation and the world, it has very negative consequences when it collides with the visions of our fellow Jews.
This helps us understand, noted Maharal, why we can put our divisions aside and readily rally behind and rush to the aid of a group of Jews anywhere who are in distress. This is not just an emotional response. At that moment the brother in trouble poses no threat to the other’s vision, such that he can be there for him. However, when we experience shared crisis or tranquility, our competing visions for the Jewish people dominate our internal relationships and lead to discord.
Maharal’s insight rings true in the many contemporary deep divisions born of rival conceptions of the Jewish and Israeli future. But how do we overcome the drive to prevail, without abandoning our principles and allowing the visions and values of others to predominate?
There is a critical middle ground between abandoning our principles to allow the other to prevail over us and fighting for our values to prevail over theirs. We must champion our right and ability to live by our own values without always seeking to prevail over others. Arguably, even Yaakov’s success against Eisav’s angel only achieved a draw, not his outright defeat. At that time, that was enough for him to fulfill his mission and to be named Yisrael. At least for now, that must often satisfy us as well.
Preserving unity and connection between Jews must be a guiding principle, not just an emotion.
Maharal himself noted11 that irreconcilable internal differences are endemic to our current state. The literal and figurative dispersion and scattering of our people, our inability to be one, is part and parcel of galut. At this stage of our existence, we must humbly and maturely accept that there will be no single path that all Klal Yisrael will travel, and that while we must stubbornly push for our own vision to survive, we must not expect it to prevail. In our imperfect world, we must fully live our values with pride and strength, hoping that the power of our personal example will inspire others to embrace our vision. Striving for the kind of victory that imposes our vision upon others should be reserved for those situations where anything less will change the character of the State or community in a way that affects all of us. Genuine respect is due to the approaches of others faithful to Orthodox halachah and mesorah. While our belief in the Divinity and eternity of Torah precludes an ideological pluralism that sees and celebrates all value systems as equal, galut will often require us to live with a pragmatic pluralism that extends to others the freedom and understanding that we seek for ourselves. That baseline of coexistence will position us to manage the inevitable areas of conflict. And we can minimize those areas by not always seeking victory.
Our mentor for navigating the imperfect world of galut is Rav Yochanan ben Zakkai. As the Talmud12 records, his guiding principle was a version of tafasta merubah lo tafasta, the realization that one who seeks everything will often end up with nothing. Rav Yochanan ben Zakkai was humbly pragmatic and understood that we must reconcile with our current state of imperfection, with reality and with others, and take what we can get. This attitude allowed him the clarity to salvage both the Torah and the remnants of the Davidic dynasty even as Yerushalayim and the Beit Hamikdash were being destroyed. It also made him the leader who would continue the teaching of Torah into that post-Destruction period during which the Jewish people would necessarily be less unified around one specific vision. He himself had not one successor but five, each of them with their own qualities and priorities,13 who led the Jewish people according to those qualities and priorities.
That is the critical adjustment we can make. Our characteristic drive to prevail must move us to build and promote our vision with the zeal and idealism that will enable it to survive, to thrive, and to have profound influence on others, while recognizing and peaceably accepting that others will be doing the same to advance their own visions. Our drive to prevail produces bitter argument only when we define success as prevailing in shutting down the ways of others.
Ha’emet v’hashalom ehavu. Love both truth and peace. We must distinguish ourselves as passionately committed Jews who prioritize both our halachic and hashkafic principles and our absolute and unconditional desire for connection to each and every other Jew. That combination will allow Klal Yisrael to prevail.
Postscript:
As disturbed as we have been by the Jewish people fighting with each other, we have been profoundly inspired by the chayalim, the Jewish people fighting for each other. It is in them that we find unquestionable faithfulness and commitment to the well-being of every Jew.
It has often been noted that every soldier of Tzahal, by virtue of their dedication to give their lives for the Jewish people, shares the distinction of the harugei Lod who are in a class of their own in the World to Come.14 That is the world designated for Klal Yisrael, the world of “Kol Yisrael yeish lahem cheilek l’Olam Haba.” In that world, those whose dedication extends clearly to all the Jewish people occupy the highest place. They are the Jews of kol Yisrael, of Klal Yisrael. Let us learn from them to dedicate all our energies to fight for each other and not with each other.
Notes
1. Shmuel II 7:23.
2. Rashi, Vayikra 26:6.
3. Yoma 9b.
4. Avot 2:16.
5. Yoma 9b.
6. Yevamot 14b.
7. Zechariah 8:19.
8. See Kiddushin 30b.
9. Netzach Yisrael, chap. 25.
10. Bereishit 32:29.
11. Netzach Yisrael, chap. 25.
12. Gittin 56b. Note that the Talmud expresses reservations about Rav Yochanan ben Zakkai’s negotiating strategy, but recognizes that it was Divinely inspired. Ultimately, he not only led Klal Yisrael through the days of Destruction but was recognized as Hillel’s successor, and his guidance defined how we live as a people following the Churban.
13. Avot 2:8–9.
14. Bava Batra 10b.
Rabbi Moshe Hauer is executive vice president of the Orthodox Union.