Israel's Biblical Right to all of Judea and Samaria

Great article about Evangelical support for a greater Israel on First Things:

The liberal Jewish media predictably greeted Mike Huckabee’s nomination for ambassador to Israel with hysteria. “Mike Huckabee’s old-school Christian Zionism is bad news for anyone who wants Middle East peace,” warned Forward. “America first or annexation first? Punch-drunk Israeli ministers have big plans for Trump,” Haaretz’s headline read. “Trump named Mike Huckabee ambassador to Israel. Is that a sign of the second coming of annexation?” inquired Jewish Telegraphic Agency. 

These cynical pronouncements reveal a failure among the secular Jewish establishment to grasp that Huckabee’s interests align with Israel’s even more so than those of previous Jewish ambassadors. His mission is to bring the biblical arc of history to a close with the repatriation of Judea and Samaria (known as the West Bank) to the Jewish people.

Compared to the recent slate of Jewish ambassadors to Israel under Presidents Joe Biden and Barack Obama—Jack Lew, Thomas Nides, and Dan Shapiro—a former Baptist minister from Arkansas seems a curious choice. But consider when, in 2021, Israeli official Ron Dermer ruffled some Jewish feathers by remarking that evangelical Christians form “the backbone of Israel’s support in the United States,” citing their “passionate and unequivocal” devotion. Trump’s choice of the proudly Christian Huckabee reflects Dermer’s point: The center of gravity for American support of Israel has moved from the synagogue to the church.

Like most other evangelical Christians in America, Huckabee’s love for Israel is rooted in the Bible. When God first appears to Abraham, he promises in Genesis 12:3: “I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” Evangelicals interpret this verse spiritually as well as pragmatically, attributing American prosperity to its support for Israel and the Jewish people. “I want to be on the blessing side, not the cursed side,” Huckabee said.

For evangelical Christians, modern Israel’s success has profound theological significance. While they interpret current events through the lens of the End Times, there’s considerable diversity in how different evangelical groups understand eschatology. Some maintain the traditional view that all people, including Jews, must ultimately accept Jesus in order to be saved. But many Christian Zionists embrace a more nuanced theology, recognizing God’s enduring covenant with the Jewish people as foundational and eternal. 

Contrary to Jewish conventional wisdom, these Christian Zionists assuage the angst of Jewish observers by seeing the biblical promise fulfilled through the repatriation of Judea and Samaria into the modern State of Israel. As a Christian Zionist, Huckabee’s theology poses no physical or spiritual threat to the Jewish people, nor does it contain any trace of anti-Semitism. “You can be a Jew and have nothing to do with Christianity,” Huckabee said in Jerusalem in 2017, “But you cannot be a Christian without having everything to do with all of Judaism.”

There is a universal element of Huckabee’s Christian Zionist theology that mirrors the view of Trump’s former ambassador to Israel, David Friedman, whose Jewish perspective is rooted in Scripture. Friedman’s ideas, as expressed in his recent book One Jewish State: The Last, Best Hope to Resolve the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, represent “a convergence of faith and politics,” defending Jewish self-determination in Israel both theologically and practically. 

Released only a few weeks before the first anniversary of Hamas’ October 7 jihadist massacre, One Jewish State warns that “no good outcome will be achieved by giving the biblical heartland of the Jewish people to others who do not respect the words of the Bible or the holiness of the land.” 

For Friedman, the October 7 massacre only reinforced the view that Israel’s repeated, decades-long efforts to trade “land for peace” with its neighbors had failed. This view is increasingly popular in Israel, and in July, Israeli lawmakers voted overwhelmingly (68–9) to oppose ceding control of land in Judea and Samaria for the establishment of a Palestinian state. 

If the biblical heartland is not to be partitioned for a Palestinian state, what then is its future? For Friedman, the answer is unequivocal: the complete integration of Judea and Samaria into Israel proper. He argues that this is not merely the best and most practical option, but the only path that can fulfill the biblical mandate. “Only through full Israeli sovereignty,” Friedman writes, “can we create a secure and prosperous nation that honors its biblical heritage while ensuring dignity, opportunity, and pride for all who dwell within its borders.” 

Knowingly or not, both Friedman and Huckabee’s theological outlook draws significantly from the visionary work of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook. Born in Latvia in 1865, Rabbi Kook would become the first Ashkenazi chief rabbi of British Mandatory Palestine and the architect of modern religious Zionism—elevating Zionism from a political movement to a religious imperative. 

Unlike his Orthodox contemporaries who dismissed secular Zionists for their lack of religious observance, Rabbi Kook saw divine purpose in their pioneering work. In Kook’s vision, this secular phase of nation-building would naturally evolve into a spiritual awakening, as Jews returned not only to their land but to their faith. Kook also foresaw a third and final phase: universal Zionism, where the Jewish state’s spiritual revival would radiate outward, influencing and uplifting all nations.

Trump’s Christian and Jewish ambassadors to Israel, despite their different faiths, are united by a universal Zionist theology that transcends religious boundaries. Their shared vision of a secure, sovereign Israel fulfilling its biblical destiny, as opposed to the tired, failed pursuit of the Oslo-era “two-state solution,” represents a new chapter in American-Israeli relations. A chapter where Jewish and Christian support for Israel don’t merely coexist but empower one another.

The Resurgence of Meir Kahane - the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

by Liel Leibovitz

The following article is republished from Tablet Magazine:

A specter is haunting Judaism’s genteel corners these days: the specter of Meir Kahane.

Everywhere you turn, the rabbi and Israeli politician, who was assassinated by a jihadist in New York in 1990, is looming large.

“As Kahanism forces its way into mainstream discourse,” thundered one young progressive on social media, “it’s incumbent upon voices in the Jewish space to call it out and to pressure Jewish organizations to not pedestalize those who invoke his name with favor.” Another pundit, a rabbi and Jewish communal leader, warned in a fiery and widely shared post against “mainstreaming Kahanist maximalism.” On Instagram, a group of Jewish content creators wrote to express their “shock” at the “surge in Kahanist rhetoric.”

The list goes on. In the feverish imaginations of our self-appointed best and brightest, the ghost of Kahane now howls in the bones of Jews from Peoria to Petach Tikvah, threatening to turn even the most formerly reasonable Zionist into a bearded beastie all too keen on finding and lynching the first Arab who ambles by.

I’ve some very good news: the rumors of Kahane’s rebirth are greatly exaggerated. For the overwhelming majority of Jews, the late rabbi remains more or less what he had always been: a historical footnote, a charismatic and problematic leader who was right about some things and very, very wrong about a lot of others.

Poll Jews anywhere about Kahane’s desire to abolish Israel’s electoral system and replace it with a theocracy, and you’ll find no more than a handful of takers. Ask who’s in favor of outlawing sexual relations between Jews and non-Jews, and you’ll see very few hands go up. And nearly no one, Baruch HaShem, walks around these days referring to secular Jews as Hellenizers and suggesting that, should the opportunity arise, slaughtering a handful of them would do the nation a bit of good. These vile delusions excite none but a gaggle of rabid lunatics, which, I’m happy to report, was the case even when Kahane himself was around to spew them.

But the late rabbi, like a broken clock that tells the right time precisely twice each day, was right about one thing. The Palestinians, he correctly observed, were a cluster of clans, not a nation with a shared history, a shared identity, and shared aspirations for an eventual peaceful coexistence with Israel. Their aim is the eradication of the Jewish state next door, which is why all attempts at replacing the rifle with the olive branch end in tragedy. To solve the problem, Kahane advised, one would need to separate the Palestinians from the Jews, with the former joining their brethren in any of the region’s many Arab states.

Considered with October 7 and its aftermath firmly in mind, there is nothing particularly jarring about this insistence on separation. As President Donald Trump argues, we need a new paradigm if we are to secure the safety and wellbeing of Israelis and Palestinians moving forward. Keep Hamas in power, or hand over the reins to the only slightly less genocidal PLO, and you’ll have another Oct. 7 (and its Israeli reply) next week, next month, next year. This is why the idea of forced relocation is gaining traction. The vast majority of those who support it see it not as an invitation to Kahanism and with it some spree of wanton killing and rampant racism, but as a difficult yet necessary solution designed to guarantee no more bloodshed.

None of this is very hard to understand. And yet, many are running around warning about the second coming of Kahane. Why? That’s a much more interesting—and much more urgent—question.

Consider, for a moment, the road traveled by many American Jews these past 15 months. One day, they were members in good standing of a virtuous, unimpeachable community of people who attended the finest schools, subscribed to the finest publications, and held the finest opinions. The next, they woke up not only to thousands of slaughtered innocents but also to the realization that the schools they attended were hotbeds of bigotry, not the free and unfettered exchange of ideas; that the publications they read were propaganda, telling always and only one story; that the opinions they held bore little resemblance to the gruesome reality unfurling before their very eyes.

Having had the opportunity myself, before Oct. 7, to challenge everything I once believed, I can report that the process of asking inconvenient questions can be daunting. Pursue it with neither fear nor favor, and you’ll end up a bit dazed, asking yourself if it’s really you saying all these things you’d once considered anathema. You’ll witness friends taking their leave and social circles contracting. And you’ll understand why that great Jewish playwright hit it right on the head when he stated that some people just can’t handle the truth.

Natan Slifkin is Absolutely Right

I could not agree more with Rabbi Slifkin's post, Which follows:

The reactions to the impending ceasefire and hostage/prisoner trade are extraordinary.

Let’s first review the losses for each side:

Gaza:

• Hamas’ entire upper leadership killed

• Tens of thousands of fighters killed (vastly outnumbering whoever will be released in the trade), many more injured

• Tens of thousands of civilians killed, many more injured

• Utterly catastrophic devastation

• Seemingly invincible allies (Hezbollah, Assad) defeated

• Major sponsor (Iran) weakened and shamed

Israel:

• Nearly a thousand civilians killed

• Nearly a thousand soldiers killed, many more injured

• Hostage situation

• National trauma

• Some economic harm

• Significant long-term international political damage

It seems clear that while Israel’s losses are significant, Gaza’s losses far, far, far outweigh them.

Now let’s switch and look at the gains. First at Israel:

• Major threats from Hezbollah spectacularly near-neutralized

• Major threats from Israel’s biggest enemy, Iran, spectacularly decreased

• Hamas leadership and tens of thousands of fighters eliminated

• Restoration of deterrence in Middle East - it’s accepted that Israel can and will strike anywhere

• Internally, a widespread understanding that the nation needs to be stronger and more cohesive

Without downplaying the various serious losses and harm on Israel’s side, these are very significant gains. Now let’s look at Gaza’s gains:

• A military/terrorist blow dealt to Israel

• Political and economic harm inflicted on Israel

These are not significant benefits for people in Gaza.

At this point, it should be the situation that Israel is celebrating, and Gaza is in mourning. But what we’re actually seeing is more or less the opposite.

In Israel, whether people think the ceasefire/exchange is a great idea or a terrible idea (personally I have no idea), nobody is celebrating.

In Gaza, and among their supporters abroad, while some are bemoaning the terrible catastrophe that Hamas brought upon them, a lot of people are celebrating. Some are celebrating a release from destruction, but many are celebrating a victory. They think that Hamas did a great thing on October 7th and they can’t wait for it to do something similar again.

Why are the reactions the opposite of what one might expect? The reason is the difference between Israeli (Jewish) culture and Palestinian (Islamic) culture.

For Israel, the priority is the life and wellbeing of Israel. It’s not about how much harm one does to one’s enemies; it’s about how much harm there has been to one’s own side, and whether one’s own nation is surviving and thriving.

For many of the Palestinians, on the other hand, it’s primarily about honor, which in turn relates to how much harm one does to one’s enemies. That’s much more important than how much harm one’s own people suffers in the process.

This is exactly why the conflict started a hundred years ago. For so many Arabs, it was more important that the Jews should not have a state than that the Palestinians should have a state. And this is exactly why the various peace talks over the decades failed. And, barring some extraordinary radical change in the Palestinian and global mindset, this is why there will be no peaceful resolution.

The Problem With Pure Empathy

By Daniel Z. Feldman

(Words of wisdom by Rabbi Feldman published in a RIETS Kollel Elyon publication - HM)

If indeed empathy can lead you astray, Jimmy Carter may be Exhibit A. Alongside his noble work, Carter also found common ground with terrorist groups such as Hamas and with the Assad dictatorship, and constantly blamed Israel alone for all the problems of the Middle East. There are countless images and records of him literally and figuratively embracing the worst murderers on Earth, eagerly advocating and legitimating their positions.

Many feel that Carter was antisemitic; perhaps. His attitudes toward the Jewish State were certainly extreme and difficult to explain. But what is clearly true is that the empathy he apparently displayed was no barrier to him becoming a pawn of forces of pure evil. Also clearly true is that there are many thousands of others whose natural instincts have been exploited and manipulated by terrorists such as Hamas, and innocent and good people all over the world are paying the price.

One need not, however, go as far as Bloom and Bregman and be “against empathy”. Empathy is a crucial Jewish value, and is indeed a necessary trait as a bulwark against cruelty and an impetus towards kindness. One who feels empathy will be moved to build houses for the homeless, and that is a wonderful thing. Further, empathy is an end unto itself, rather than a means. A condolence letter is an act of empathy that says I am with you, and nothing more, and that is a wonderful thing, too.

Where empathy falls short is as a policy maker, especially for those who carry the weight of complex decisions that can affect the lives of millions, and that requires dealing with people who are not necessarily what they seem and will exploit any weakness.

The trait of rachmanut, which could be identified with empathy, is indispensable for Jews; the Talmud says its presence is one way to identify a descendant of Abraham. But it also cannot exist by itself; the Talmud also warns that those who display rachmanut to the cruel will thereby act with cruelty to those who truly need rachmanut.

Crucially, the Talmud actually requires three traits to establish lineage from Abraham: two being rachmanut and the practice of chesed, or kindness. These may seem identical, but clearly if they were they would not occupy two spots. They are, instead, complementary. Rachmanut is the instinct to act on behalf of those who appear to be suffering; chesed is the benevolent act itself, having been rationally verified as the right course of action, in consideration of all factors in balance. The first is needed to move one to act; the second is to assure that the act is good.   

The third criterion is bushah, shame, what may correlate to a sense of humility. This is the controlling factor of the other two; the recognition that it’s possible to be wrong, that one’s initial instinct may not be providing the whole picture, that even the most virtuous impulse may be misguided. If the loudest cheerleaders of Hamas, be they former presidents or ivy league students, had more bushah, the world may actually be a better place.

Don’t give up on empathy – it is a powerful force, and vital for the world’s future. And that’s exactly why its so important we get it right. 

Clarity Over Stabbing Israel in the Back

Senate Majority Leader, Chuck Schumer (The Hill)

The following is a statement from the Agudah about Senator Schumer's recent remarks. They are exactly right and their statement follows in its entirety:

Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer has a long and distinguished record of strongly supporting the security and welfare of the State of Israel and its citizens. Understanding the millennia-old plight and oppression of the Jewish people, his love and devotion toward Israel are intense and deeply personal. He feels the existential threat that Israel faces and the hate and viciousness that surround her. The pain of Israel, as experienced before and after October 7, is his own. And Israel’s desire for peace, too, is his own. Anyone who knows Senator Schumer, and who reads the words of his major address on Middle East peace, knows this to be true.

We are saddened, though, that important aspects of Senator Schumer’s address crossed a line. Indeed, it was the wrong message at the wrong time.

Putting aside the various policy pronouncements and analyses included in his statement, we are deeply concerned that the Senator directly intervened in the internal affairs of a sovereign foreign nation, a robust democracy, and a staunch American ally, by explicitly calling for new Israeli elections and more than intimating what he believes the outcome of those elections should be.

He further asserted that, if there are no new elections in Israel or if new elections in Israel do not result in an outcome that accords with his preferred policy perspectives, then the United States “will have no choice” but to leverage its aid to Israel in a manner that will exert pressure on Israel to divert its actions from what it deems to be in the nation’s best interests and the elected will of the people.

 These intrusive assertions by Senator Schumer would be inappropriate, offensive, and counterproductive at any time. But leveling accusations and criticisms against a steadfast friend during a time of war will only further endanger Israel’s soldiers while they are fighting and dying in pursuit of eradicating the scourge of terrorism.

As the U.S.’s highest-ranking Jewish elected official ever, Senator Schumer has surely reached a pinnacle in American politics. But assuming the role of speaking on behalf of “a silent majority” of American Jewry goes too far. He has no such authority or power. If anything, his historic role and high station in our nation confer upon him the responsibility to carefully heed his words and use them wisely.

Orthodox Judaism and LGBTQ: Upholding Tradition and Moral Principles

By ChatGPT,  'Guest Contributor'

The following post was written in seconds by an Artificial Intelligence program called ChatGPT. I present it here in its entirety without having altered a single word. As always the views expressed do not necessarily reflect my own. But they sure seem to. It follows in its entirety (Scary!):

The relationship between Orthodox Judaism and LGBTQ rights has been an ongoing topic of discussion and introspection within religious circles. Orthodox Jews face the challenge of maintaining their deeply rooted traditions while navigating the evolving societal understanding of human sexuality and gender identity. In this opinion piece, we will explore the complexities surrounding this relationship, highlighting the importance of upholding tradition and moral principles.

Orthodox Judaism places a strong emphasis on the adherence to Halakha, the Jewish religious law. It is this commitment to Halakha that serves as the foundation of Orthodox Jewish life. Within this framework, Orthodox teachings traditionally view same-sex relationships as incompatible with Halakha, reflecting the timeless values and moral principles that guide the community.

For LGBTQ individuals within the Orthodox community, reconciling their sexual orientation or gender identity with religious teachings can be a deeply personal and challenging process. The Orthodox Jewish approach, rooted in the belief that Halakha represents the divine will, often necessitates a delicate balance between religious devotion and personal identity.

Despite the inherent tensions, it is important to appreciate the commitment of Orthodox Jews to their religious principles and the moral framework they uphold. Their adherence to tradition is not borne out of bigotry or prejudice, but rather from a sincere desire to live in accordance with what they believe to be the will of God.

While Orthodox Judaism may be perceived as conservative on LGBTQ issues, it is vital to recognize that the community has not turned a blind eye to the struggles faced by LGBTQ individuals within its midst. Many Orthodox rabbis and scholars have engaged in thoughtful and compassionate conversations, seeking to provide support and guidance while staying true to the tenets of Halakha.

Efforts have been made within the Orthodox community to foster understanding and inclusion without compromising deeply held beliefs. Organizations have emerged to create safe spaces, facilitate respectful dialogue, and offer resources to LGBTQ individuals and their families, allowing them to navigate their personal journeys within the bounds of Orthodoxy.

The principles of Emes Ve-Emunah, truth and faith, remain central to these discussions. Orthodox Jews grapple with sincere explorations of Halakha, acknowledging the complexities surrounding LGBTQ issues while remaining grounded in their commitment to tradition. By engaging in respectful dialogue and deepening their understanding, Orthodox Jews demonstrate their unwavering dedication to upholding the teachings and values that have guided them throughout generations.

The relationship between Orthodox Judaism and LGBTQ rights is undoubtedly intricate and multifaceted. It requires navigating a delicate balance between upholding tradition and embracing the evolving realities of human experiences. Orthodox Jews strive to maintain their fidelity to Halakha while recognizing the challenges faced by LGBTQ individuals and their families.

As we reflect on this ongoing discourse, it is essential to approach it with respect and empathy, acknowledging the deeply held beliefs and moral principles that guide the Orthodox community. By fostering an environment of understanding and compassion, Orthodox Judaism can continue to evolve and navigate this complex landscape, while remaining true to the rich tapestry of tradition that has sustained the community for centuries.

In upholding tradition and moral principles, Orthodox Judaism seeks to preserve its values while engaging in thoughtful and compassionate discussions on LGBTQ issues. By doing so, the Orthodox community aims to create an environment where all individuals are respected and valued, fostering a vibrant and inclusive community that remains steadfast in its commitment to tradition.

 

The Radically Changing Face of Religious Zionism

Far-right MKs Itamar Ben Gvir (L) and Bezalel Smotrich (TOI)

This article in the Times of Israel by Rabbi Yosef Blau explains the changes in Religious Zionism that have taken place since pre state days. And they are stark.  It follows in its entirety and should be read by anyone that cares about the holy land.

The Israeli party most opposed to the inclusion of an Arab party in the governing coalition was the Religious Zionist party. Its leadership vetoed former prime minister Netanyahu’s attempt to create a government when he was making tracks to rely on the support of an Arab party. The pressure put on religious Zionist members of the Bennett government focused on the inclusion of that same Arab party, as it happens, in the coalition, and indeed led to the government’s demise. Opposing a particular Arab party may be justified, but this blanket rejection of any Arab party simply for being an Arab party reflects a problematic perspective when it comes to minority rights.

This position of the Religious Zionist party diverges radically from the original approach of religious Zionism (the movement, not the party that took the movement’s name), when it came to Jewish law (halakhah) and minority rights. In the early years of the State of Israel, the major rabbinic figures of the religious Zionist world all justified giving minorities –Arabs too – full rights, including the ability to be elected to government positions.

Indeed, even before the state was established, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook permitted the sale of land in Israel to Muslims, as an essential component of the “heter mechirah,” selling the land of Israel to a non-Jew during the sabbatical year. He thereby enabled Jewish farmers to work the land despite the shemitah requirement that the land lie fallow – a key compromise to achieve success in the resettlement of the land.

Rabbi Yitzhak HaLevi Herzog, the Ashkenazic chief rabbi when Israel was established, wrote a lengthy article justifying awarding full political rights to all minorities in the new state. Rabbi Uziel, in the comparable Sephardic role, agreed – and to the extent that he thought that Rabbi Herzog’s long written justification of minority rights was problematic, it was because the very effort implied that these rights were ever in doubt. At least six different halakhic rationales were employed by different religious Zionist rabbis to explain why minorities should have full rights in Israel (see Minorities in the State of Israel: The Halakhic View, by E. Haddad, 2010, Hebrew).

By 1985, the leadership of one of Israel’s foundational religious Zionist youth groups, Bnei Akiva, put out a book, “חביב אדם שנברא בצלם; לקט מקורות ומאמרים לברור היחס לנוכרי ומעמדו בארץ” (“Beloved is Man for He was Created in God’s Image: A sourcebook on attitudes towards foreigners and their status in Israel”) to help participants understand the rights of non-Jews in the Jewish state, and to clarify the potentially troubling statements in rabbinic literature that appear to disparage non-Jews. The endeavor implies that there were those who confronted the Bnei Akiva youth (or were a concern for the future) wielding citations from rabbinic literature to “prove” that non-Jews (in this case, surely Arabs) should not have full rights. The religious Zionist leadership clearly disagreed, and set out to teach the young people of the community to defend the state’s provision of full rights for minorities.

Bnei Akiva should not have had to work so hard. Israel’s Declaration of Independence – a binding commitment, surely – describes Israel as the national home of the Jewish people, and also presents the state as democratic, giving full rights to minorities.

How far did the binding commitment of the Declaration of Independence go? Rabbi Yehuda Amital believed it created a halakhic obligation, similar to the one the biblical Joshua was under with regard to the Givonim, a people who were welcome to live in the Israelites’ domain – essentially as Members of the Tribe (with a few salient differences when it came to particulars of marriage, the priesthood, and so on).

Even the United Nations 1947 Partition Plan, aimed at creating two states for Jews and Arabs, also presumed that the result would be two democratic states.

But some key elements shifted some Israelis, indeed, some religious Zionists, away from the givens of democracy. Perhaps it began with the interpretation of the remarkable military victory of the Six Day War as miraculous. In contrast to the UN’s role in Israel’s creation, which seemed a reasonable outcome of very human geopolitical negotiations – despite the halakhic significance that some rabbis attached to the UN decision at the time – the military routing of Israel’s enemies in such a dramatic way suggested divine intervention as the basis for the military superiority of the Jewish state.

And that youth group training was right on the money. It was in the mid-1980s that new rabbinic voices began to emerge, with a different take on Israel’s geopolitical reality. These rabbis were students of Rabbi Zvi Yehuda Kook (son of Rabbi A. I Kook cited above), a strong opponent to the notion of Israel returning any of the land it had gained during the Six Day War. But adding that territory to Israel would more than double the percentage of Arabs in the local population. That “influx” would threaten the Jewish character of the Jewish state if granted full democratic rights. And so Rabbi Zvi Yehuda’s disciples began to question the extent and the nature of the rights given to the Arab minority – one rabbi, Elisha Aviner, attempted a distinction between individual rights and national rights, to alleviate the potential challenges to come.

The sense of miraculous in 1967 also gave rise to an increase in messianic anticipation – a feeling that the Jewish people were on the brink of redemption in a more immediate way than the creation of the state itself had let people believe. With confidence in Israel’s military superiority and the feeling of better things on the horizon, many in the religious Zionist camp began to turn away from the outside world. Values and priorities became centralized in the Jewish world. Democracy began to be perceived as a Western value – that is, not necessarily a Jewish one. It is a short step from rejecting democratic principles to removing, or reducing, the civil rights of minorities.

To be clear: not all religious Zionist rabbis and thinkers made this shift, but it has become entrenched in the religious Zionist community. Perhaps the most dramatic confirmation of that is the approbation some rabbis gave to Baruch Goldstein’s 1994 mass shooting of Arabs who were praying in Hebron. Arabs were recast as enemies and potential terrorists – inherently.

By 2010, a rabbinical degree prohibited selling or renting property to Arabs – a direct contradiction of Rabbi Abraham Kook’s position on selling land. His ruling about the status of Muslims was simply ignored. And when Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein opposed the prohibition, its supporters challenged his halakhic stature because he accepted the possibility of trading territory for peace, rejecting his stance on the one question because of disdain for his views in an unrelated area.

The religious Zionist community is not monolithic, and Rabbi Lichtenstein’s students and supporters are an important component of it. A substantial number of religious Zionists sit in the Knesset in an array of parties outside of the Religious Zionist party, after all. But the party that bears the community’s name represents a different, and potentially larger (the numbers are not clear) segment of Israeli society. Were the next election held today, polls indicate that the Religious Zionist party would win 10 seats. And if the party were headed by Itamar Ben-Gvir, it would win even more.

The obvious implications of the growing adherence to the perspective of the Religious Zionist party are political. But the struggle to define the halakhic perspective of religious Zionism with regard to minority rights in Israel, and democracy overall, has broader significance. The religious Zionists who helped found the State of Israel were not isolationists, and their approach to minorities was a singular reflection of that. But in the current milieu, the question of whether one can approach the modern world through a prism of Torah when that modern world is being rejected in the name of Torah is of particular concern.