Israel & America: Democratic Systems Poles Apart

As a political scientist, I can vouch for one very common denominator underlying the American and Israeli electoral/political systems: they are both dysfunctional and efficient – for totally opposite reasons. With U.S. elections shortly taking place, and with serious noises coming out of the Israeli government about the need to call for another round of elections (that would be the fourth in less than two years!), it is worth considering their respective central weakness.

The U.S. has a “winner take all” system, on the Presidential and Congressional levels. That’s because each district, state or the country as a whole is considered to be a “district” with only one winner. That inevitably leads to a race between only two parties or candidates. On the opposite side of the spectrum lies the Israeli system that views the country as a whole as one district in which all parties compete for a proportional part of the entire Knesset. The result: many, many parties vie for seats in the legislature.

What’s the problem? The American system is seriously deficient in representativeness. This essentially means that each voter has a choice between only two candidates (we can ignore third-party candidates, who almost never win an election, although occasionally they can influence the outcome by drawing votes from one of the two main candidates). With such limited choice, it is rare indeed for any voter to find a candidate with whom s/he agrees on many issues. In short, the U.S. electoral system leaves little room for a result that truly reflects the wishes of many voters.

On the other hand, with around fifteen parties running in Knesset elections – and around ten passing the minimal voting threshold (3.25%) – Israeli voters have a virtual supermarket of parties for which they could vote. In such a rich electoral smorgasbord, the chances are great that each voter can find a party that represents his or her position on the most salient issues.

However, when one turns the picture around to look at governability, we arrive at a mirror image of the situation. Because America has only two parties, when it comes to running the ship of state there is one party that acts as the “captain” and only occasionally there’s one other that is involved in “navigation”. For much of American history that situation has enabled the leadership to govern in relatively efficient fashion. Quite the opposite state of affairs is the norm for Israel, what with the need to form a governing coalition of (usually) four to six parties. That’s not a ship of state but rather akin to a carriage with four/six horses pulling in different directions.

Adding to Israel’s governability misery is the fact that in its parliamentary system, new elections can – and usually do – take place well before the four-year term is completed. In other words, the threat of “toppling the government” from within is a constant worry for the prime minster. Compare that to the American Constitutional mandate of a four-year term no matter what (even the president’s death does not change that). Israeli governance instability is counterpointed by American governing constancy.

Which system is “better”? That depends on whether one considers representativeness or governance to be more important for democracy. As to the question of “better”, most political scientists will say “neither”. There are plenty of election systems in the democratic world that combine these two elements in far better fashion. To take but one example (without getting too bogged down in the details), the German “mixed” system is far more stable than Israel’s (governments almost never “fall” before their term is up) but it’s also significantly more representative (four major parties vying at the national level). The German “secret sauce”? Half the legislative seats are elected by district, with the other half being proportionally representative.

None of this is to say that the “election system” is the only factor determining how well a democracy can function. Political culture is important, e.g. the Weimar Republic collapsed in 1933 in large part because Germany didn’t have much of a democratic past; given traditional Jewish argumentativeness, Israel’s political system would be “boisterous” no matter what the system; in light of its territorial separation from most of the world, America did not have to worry about foreign wars or serious entanglements for at least its first 120 years, lending a level of democratic stability that European countries could only dream of.

So when Israelis look at the American election system, they are nonplussed by the lack of choice and almost complete dearth of ideological variety. Conversely, Americans viewing Israeli elections are appalled by its quasi-“anarchy” (Israelis call it “balagan”). Both would do well to heed Churchill’s immortal description: “democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”

Oct. 21, 2020

The Oldest Jewish Tradition of All: Protest

In Israel today, and for several weeks, protest has been rife all over the country – despite and also because of Corona. Much has already been written and argued as to whether this is appropriate during a plague. Whatever one’s position in that respect, one thing should be very clear: not only is this not a new phenomenon on the Israeli political scene, but it is the quintessential way that Jews have expressed themselves from time immemorial.

About thirty years ago, after a decade of research and numerous academic articles, I published a comprehensive (scholarly) book on the phenomenon, first in English (Stiff-Necked People, Bottle-Necked System: The Evolution and Roots of Israeli Public Protest, 1949-1986), and then a few years later I updated it in Hebrew: מחאה ציבורית בישראל, 1949-1992. Among the things that I discovered was that Israel led the entire democratic world in protest participation per capita! From there I added a chapter (to the revised work) on the Jewish origins of the phenomenon (it can be read here in article form: http://profslw.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/Am-Kshe-Oref.Oppositionism-in-the-Jewish-Heritage.pdf).

In precis, there are four forms of protest: argumentation, public protest, civil disobedience, rebellion. Judaism has always encouraged the first two, and discouraged the latter pair. It all started with Abraham arguing/protesting against God (!) regarding Sodom and Amorah’s destruction if it had holy people; it continued with the Israelites constant complaining in the desert (a “stiff-necked people”, indeed); then came the Prophets who lambasted the Jewish kings (!!) as well as the people who had gone astray; and ultimately produced the greatest tome in Judaism – the Talmud – consisting of thousands of arguments between the rabbis, and even a few telling God that he was no longer much needed (!!!) regarding these halakhic disputations (Bava Metziah, 59/b: “it is no longer for the Heavens to decide…”).

What underlay such a seemingly brazen approach to the Almighty and human authority? In a word: Covenant. By “signing a contract”, both Man AND God were mutually obligating themselves to do the right thing. If not, the other side was not only justified in protesting, but actually required to do so by the Talmud: “Anyone who should protest against a relative and doesn’t is guilty; similarly against a townsperson; and even against the world, bears as much blame” (Shabbat, 54/b).

Little wonder, therefore, that if one could chide the Almighty, the Prophets had no compunctions either about protesting against human kings. Skip a few thousand years, and we’re in modern Israel where protest has become a serious national sport (not to mention arguing with each other).

The good news: such a moral mentality demands that the Jew of whatever social status hew to a strict ethical norm of behavior – and when the leadership does not hold to such a norm, Jews will raise their voices, quite vociferously. The argumentation element also leads to “thinking out of the box”, ergo Israel’s “Start-Up Nation” as well as world Jewry’s great success in sundry professional, cultural and intellectual pursuits.

The bad news: the old Jewish jokes are not really that funny in practice – two Jews, three opinions; two synagogues built by one survivor on a deserted island: “that second one I would never step foot in…”. Even in a health emergency like Corona, Israelis can’t “get it together”. Running the Israeli ship of state is akin to handing out pails to bail out the Titanic.

For better and for worse, protesting is in the Jewish blood – indeed, I would argue (I’m Jewish too!) it forms the very cells of our personal and political bloodstream. And if you disagree with me, you’ve just proven that you’re Jewish too…

Sept. 29, 2020

Why American Orthodox Jews are Voting Red, and the non-Orthodox Blue

The divide between American Orthodox Jewry and their non-Orthodox compatriots is growing – not only religiously but politically as well. Conventional wisdom has it that at base this is about Israel, or rather whether Israel is even a salient issue at the American ballot box. For the Orthodox it seems very much so; for other Jews (increasingly) far less. Given the perception that President Trump is “good for Israel”, this would explain why the Orthodox would vote again for the president. For other Jews, relatively neutral and/or apathetic regarding Israel – some even antagonistic to Israel’s policies – it makes sense from their perspective to focus on domestic issues, where the president is sorely lacking (at least from a liberal standpoint).

All of this is largely true, but doesn’t address the more underlying fault line running through American Jewry. In two words: “nationalism” vs “universalism”. Parsing them, though, demands a bit lengthier explanation.

For almost all of its glorious history, Judaism has been a religion and culture of a specific nation. Indeed, it is the only one that (at least mythically) began its journey with all the people gathered together: Mount Sinai. But beyond that origin story (Abraham to Jacob were proto-monotheists, but not “Jewish” in any sense of the word; indeed, they could not have been, as the term “Jewish”/Yehudi stems from Jacob’s son Judah), and despite its monotheistic bent, Judaism didn’t and doesn’t see itself as a “world religion” of a purely theological nature. Indeed, proselytism was never an integral part of its credo.

It need not be stressed that “nationalism” is the foundation upon which Trumpism rests: Make America Great Again – not bettering the world, but rather the United States. This is the fundamental source of American Orthodox Jewry’s support of Israel (the Jewish nation-state) and in parallel, for Trump (“nation above world”). Orthodox Jews in the U.S., based on their profound attachment to the Jewish People (and its rejuvenated state), are naturally attracted to a politics that echoes such a nationalistic weltanschauung.

Non-Orthodox Jews, on the other hand, due to secular education, acculturation, and even assimilation, are drawn to the universalism of the American creed. Indeed, their Judaism is expressed quintessentially through the term “tikkun olam” – reforming the world. This has never been a cardinal principle in the Jewish tradition (although some minor aspects can be discerned here and there), but it has now become the guiding “light unto the nations” for the non-Orthodox. (Parenthetically, it should be noted that “or la’goyim” – a light unto the world – never meant that Jews should actively change the world but rather actively upgrade themselves morally in order to be a model for others.) Thus, non-Orthodox Jews in America by and large have now come around to a universalistic form of cultural Judaism, relatively bereft of ethnos. From there it is but a small jump to viewing Israel as somewhat aberrational, not only due to its particular policies (vis-à-vis the Palestinians etc), but intrinsically as out of step with contemporary, liberal values given its heightened nationalism and ethnos-driven creed of Zionism, i.e. first and foremost, a Jewish State.

All this also explains the great enthusiasm that recent right-wing Israeli governments have shown towards President Trump – and their antipathy to President Obama, a symbol of multiculturalism and a person deeply attuned to the world at large. Reinforcing this chauvinistic propensity are the ultra/Orthodox in Israel who have significantly gained in political power and demographic strength. Thus, there is a remarkable “politico-cultural” synchronization going on between the current nationalistic American government and nationalistic Israel society and politics – thereby feeding and reinforcing the Jewish-American divide discussed above.

In the final analysis, the Jewish “divide” in contemporary America is not merely a matter of Trump vs. Biden, but rather goes far deeper than that. We are probably witness to a seismic shift in Jewish voting patterns – from Blue to Red – that will only gain in strength as the Orthodox (most ultra-Orthodox among them as well) increase their demographic numbers while the rest of American Jewry decline proportionally as a result of rampant intermarriage and general assimilation. Whether all this is “good for the Jews” (or for Israel) is another matter altogether.

Sept. 24, 2020

Israel & America: Democratic Systems Poles Apart

As a political scientist, I can vouch for one very common denominator underlying the American and Israeli electoral/political systems: they are both dysfunctional and efficient – for totally opposite reasons. With U.S. elections shortly taking place, and with serious noises coming out of the Israeli government about the need to call for another round of elections (that would be the fourth in less than two years!), it is worth considering their respective central weakness.

The U.S. has a “winner take all” system, on the Presidential and Congressional levels. That’s because each district, state or the country as a whole is considered to be a “district” with only one winner. That inevitably leads to a race between only two parties or candidates. On the opposite side of the spectrum lies the Israeli system that views the country as a whole as one district in which all parties compete for a proportional part of the entire Knesset. The result: many, many parties vie for seats in the legislature.

What’s the problem? The American system is seriously deficient in representativeness. This essentially means that each voter has a choice between only two candidates (we can ignore third-party candidates, who almost never win an election, although occasionally they can influence the outcome by drawing votes from one of the two main candidates). With such limited choice, it is rare indeed for any voter to find a candidate with whom s/he agrees on many issues. In short, the U.S. electoral system leaves little room for a result that truly reflects the wishes of many voters.

On the other hand, with around fifteen parties running in Knesset elections – and around ten passing the minimal voting threshold (3.25%) – Israeli voters have a virtual supermarket of parties for which they could vote. In such a rich electoral smorgasbord, the chances are great that each voter can find a party that represents his or her position on the most salient issues.

However, when one turns the picture around to look at governability, we arrive at a mirror image of the situation. Because America has only two parties, when it comes to running the ship of state there is one party that acts as the “captain” and only occasionally there’s one other that is involved in “navigation”. For much of American history that situation has enabled the leadership to govern in relatively efficient fashion. Quite the opposite state of affairs is the norm for Israel, what with the need to form a governing coalition of (usually) four to six parties. That’s not a ship of state but rather akin to a carriage with four/six horses pulling in different directions.

Adding to Israel’s governability misery is the fact that in its parliamentary system, new elections can – and usually do – take place well before the four-year term is completed. In other words, the threat of “toppling the government” from within is a constant worry for the prime minster. Compare that to the American Constitutional mandate of a four-year term no matter what (even the president’s death does not change that). Israeli governance instability is counterpointed by American governing constancy.

Which system is “better”? That depends on whether one considers representativeness or governance to be more important for democracy. As to the question of “better”, most political scientists will say “neither”. There are plenty of election systems in the democratic world that combine these two elements in far better fashion. To take but one example (without getting too bogged down in the details), the German “mixed” system is far more stable than Israel’s (governments almost never “fall” before their term is up) but it’s also significantly more representative (four major parties vying at the national level). The German “secret sauce”? Half the legislative seats are elected by district, with the other half being proportionally representative.

None of this is to say that the “election system” is the only factor determining how well a democracy can function. Political culture is important, e.g. the Weimar Republic collapsed in 1933 in large part because Germany didn’t have much of a democratic past; given traditional Jewish argumentativeness, Israel’s political system would be “boisterous” no matter what the system; in light of its territorial separation from most of the world, America did not have to worry about foreign wars or serious entanglements for at least its first 120 years, lending a level of democratic stability that European countries could only dream of.

So when Israelis look at the American election system, they are nonplussed by the lack of choice and almost complete dearth of ideological variety. Conversely, Americans viewing Israeli elections are appalled by its quasi-“anarchy” (Israelis call it “balagan”). Both would do well to heed Churchill’s immortal description: “democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”

Oct. 21, 2020

Corona and the Eternal Ghetto: Ultra-Orthodox Political Culture

My topic here is so fraught with emotion these days, that I need to declare this at the start: the following analysis is absolutely not a justification for, but rather only an explanation of, Haredi behavior during Corona (and in general), whether in Israel or abroad.

Imagine this: a baby is brought up as a slave; then is freed as a tweenager but has to deal with neighborhood bullies constantly pushing him around, as well as family members constantly telling him that he’s got to “blend in”; later as a teenager his home is burned down (twice!), forcing him to roam around for many years trying to find a safe place to reside in the way that he wishes to conduct his life. As an adult, he does occasionally find some such haven – only to be attacked again every so often, and then having to start the “roam” once more; later in life, some of his siblings decide to disown him completely, whereas others start behaving in a way totally different than what their parents taught; finally, approaching old age, a large part of his extended family is killed by a mass murderer – and the old man once again has to escape to start life anew.

Substitute the word “Jews” for this person and you have the narrative that today’s ultra-Orthodox Haredim tell themselves about their past (distant and near) – not altogether incorrectly. Their narrative has two main themes: the goyim are always out to harm the Jews; many fellow Jews are a big threat to the “true” Jewish way of life. In some Haredi circles, it’s not even clear which of these two threats is perceived as being the greater one.

What did Jews do to survive this horrendous history? Among other things, everything possible to circumvent gentile government restrictions and harsh edicts. Part of this involved a paradox of sorts: the foreign governments would force Jews to live among themselves, at some point even building “ghetto” walls to keep them in place. This led to a harsh, territorially restricted life; but it also enabled Jews to produce “autonomous” institutions of self-help, when governments refused to provide them with any services (other than collecting their taxes). With some variation, this “alternative system” way of communal (kehilla) life continued for 2000 years.

In the modern age (19th century onwards), another threat appeared from a different direction, inside the Jewish world: Reform and Conservative Judaism, as well as rampant assimilation into the secular world. This reinforced the ultra-Orthodox need to keep apart from anything modern, including non-Haredi, Jewish compatriots. Indeed, a new theological “principle” arose: חדש אסור מן התורה (“the Torah forbids novelty”). That not only included novel halakha but scientific wisdom as well – essentially relegating the Haredi world to socio-economic stagnation, if not worse.

Political psychology is hard to change – especially when it’s as deep-seated and long-lasting as it has been for the Jewish Diaspora. This is especially true when, as just described, the perceived threat comes from without and from within. “Without”: non-Jewish government and society; “within”: non-Orthodox Jewish movements. In such a case (again: as perceived by the Haredim), there is only one strategic choice: build your own ghetto walls – literal (municipal, e.g. Bnei Brak, Mea She’arim, Borough Park, New Square NY) and figurative (banning the internet, eliminating core education subjects in school).

Such an approach stems from a deep-seated distrust of almost any non-Haredi authority: political, scientific, social, educational etc. Among other things these days, it explains not only Haredi suspicion regarding external political leaders (e.g. Gov. Cuomo) but also of medical professionals (Dr. Fauci in the U.S. and Prof. Gamzo in Israel). Paradoxically, it can also explain why the one gentile politician the haredim support is President Trump – the paragon of antiestablishment verbiage and behavior from within the establishment!

Moreover, their distrust is the basis for establishing a “pirate”, at-home, Corona treatment system in Israel for Haredim (https://www.timesofisrael.com/secret-haredi-program-treating-thousands-of-covid-patients-at-home-report/). And of course, it is the underlying source for flouting governmental health regulations and guidelines promulgated to prevent Corona infection (e.g. synagogues open despite official lockdowns; demonstrably burning masks). Indeed, this “political culture” is so ingrained in the Haredi psyche that it even overrides the single most important value in Judaism: pikuach nefesh (preserving human life). Seemingly, indirect “martyrdom” as a result of maintaining cultural and quasi-political autonomy takes preference over saving lives!

The bottom line: the greatest threat to a healthy Jewish future for the ultra-Orthodox is not antisemitism or assimilation; it is the stranglehold of galut (Diaspora) mentality that overwhelms all other forms of accommodation with modernity – even at the price of sacrificing Jewish life on the altar of socio-political and theological separatism.

Oct. 18, 2020

The Labor Party, R.I.P. – Bad for Bibi

As is well known, Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu is in trouble – his tzores coming from numerous directions. First, three different, serious indictments, with the consolidated trials starting this coming January. Second, complete mismanagement of the Corona outbreak (“leading” the world today in per capita, daily infections) after the initial success in the first wave during March. And third, massive, ongoing protest demonstrations around the country – not just opposite the PM’s residence in Jerusalem – on both these issues.

It’s also no secret that Bibi is angling for new elections sometime in the coming months, because of (or despite) the above headaches. However, there’s a fourth problem that he will have to face, a highly paradoxical one that almost no one is talking about: the disappearance of the Likud’s traditional nemesis – Israel’s Labor Party (ILP).

The ILP was the dominant party that founded the newborn state in 1948 and ran the country (with smaller coalition partners) until 1977, when the Likud took over and has been in charge ever since, with a very few “interregnums”, not all led by the ILP. By the turn of the century, the ILP started a precipitous decline in strength (2015 being a one-off exception). Today, it is completely on the way out as a viable party, as reported in this newspaper back in April (https://www.timesofisrael.com/meanwhile-in-other-news-israels-labor-party-is-finished/). Given all the polls since then showing Labor with less support than necessary to pass the vote threshold (3.25%), it is almost certain that the two ILP ministers – Amir Peretz and Itzik Shmuli – will coalesce with Blue & White towards the next election, or risk an embarrassing electoral wipeout.

While this is sad news for the moderate Left – indeed, for Israel it’s an historic ending – it is also very bad news for Bibi and the Likud. To see why, we have to return to the heyday of ILP hegemony. Israel’s first years were extremely difficult, what with the War of Independence, immediately followed by a doubling of its population within four years due to massive Jewish immigration, and then several years of rationed semi-famine (the tzenah). Without laying blame (if anyone at all was to “blame”), the Jews that arrived from the Arab countries – Edot Ha’mizrakh, ethno-national groups from the East – lived through extremely difficult conditions for the ensuing decades. Their next generation erupted in protest in 1971, ultimately leading to the Likud’s electoral takeover in 1977. Since then, their sense of discrimination against ILP’s “Asheknazi hegemony” has been the foundation of the Likud’s hold on power. From Begin to Bibi (with ultra-Orthdodox, Edot Ha’mizrakh SHAS in key support since the mid-1980s), memories and continued feelings of ethnic discrimination have been a central force underlying the Likud’s victories.

With the disappearance of the ILP, that core factor will no longer be available. To paraphrase Richard Nixon’s famous line after his 1962 California Gubernatorial defeat: “the Likud won’t have Labor to kick around anymore”. The only vestige of Israel’s traditional Left that’s left is Meretz, but it has never been a threat to capture any real governing power. True, Bibi has tried to paint the Blue & White party as “smolanim” (Leftists), but that simply doesn’t stick given that its two leaders are former IDF Chiefs of Staff (and a third – Yaalon, ostensibly even more to the Right – left the party because his two compatriots joined the government with Bibi!).

In short, Bibi no longer has the ILP voodoo doll/piñata to stick pins into; anti-Left emotionalism will be enfeebled, perhaps even completely dissolved. Which leaves Bibi and the Likud to run “on the record” – and that domestic record has lately been catastrophic: the highest unemployment rate in Israel’s history; one of the world’s worst Corona rates; and rampant corruption in his party and among some right-wing coalition partners (others are under advanced investigation and pre-indictment).

This does not mean that the Likud will “lose” the next election. It does mean that the Likud will lose seats (the latest polls show a significant decline); that internal disaffection vis-à-vis Bibi will continue to fester and grow; and that we are probably witness to the beginning of Israel’s next tectonic shift in electoral politics. Perhaps not right away, but the writing is on the wall; after all, it took four years for the ILP’s disastrous handling in the 1973 Yom Kippur War to be translated into electoral defeat by the Likud in 1977 (ironically, with the anti-ILP campaign slogan “mush’khatim, nim’astem”: “we’re disgusted at your corruption”).

So along with – and in part because of – Israel’s R.I.P. for the Labor Party, the country is probably witnessing as well the death knell of longstanding Likud hegemony.

Oct. 11, 2020

Ecclesiastes and Corona: The Luck of Being Alive

Sukkot is not only the holiday for sitting in outside huts and lulav/etrog shaking. It is also the holiday when we traditionally read Kohelet (Ecclesiastes). Which is surprising, given that this philosophical tome is considered the most despairing and depressing book in the bible (only Job competes) – but Sukkot is also the only holiday that the bible explicitly calls “the time to be happy” (זמן שמחתנו), no less than three times! (Leviticus 23:40; Deuteronomy 16:14 & 16:15).

A closer look at Kohelet, however, shows that it is not unremittingly pessimistic, but rather “bi-polar”. For example, take these two verses from chapter 2:(13) Then I saw that wisdom excels folly, as far as light excels darkness. (24) There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and make his soul enjoy pleasure for his labour. This also I saw, that it is from the hand of God.

Sounds good, no? But these bookend other, “darker” aphorisms: (2:17) So I hated life; because the work that is wrought under the sun was grievous to me; for all is vanity and a striving after wind. (2:23) For all his days are pains, and his occupation vexation; yes, even in the night his heart takes not rest. This also is vanity. And then there’s this, almost a foreboding of Corona: (12:4-5) And the doors shall be shut in the street, when the sound of the grinding is low; and one shall start up at the voice of a bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low. Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and terrors shall be in the way…

One would be hard put to think of a more appropriate holiday than our present Corona Sukkot in the midst of mass bi-polarity: hope and despair. Indeed, I would go so far to suggest that Sukkot has always symbolized the ups and downs of human life: individual and social. For what is the sukkah if not moving from our safely permanent abode to a rickety, temporary hut? This is the ever-present threat of human existence: one day with a job – the next “on furlough” (or worse); one day, healthy functioning – the next day, difficulty breathing.

Judaism has ways of dealing with this, and it involves appreciating life – especially in times of danger. For instance, when Jews survive a life-threatening experience, they are enjoined to recite a special prayer: “gomel”. However, what of a chronic, ongoing danger such as our present Corona pandemic? Here we have to zoom out and look at the bigger picture for succor. I would like to do just that here – a sort of IMAXing the traditional morning prayer “modeh ani” (“I am thankful for being alive”).

Looked at with a very wide lens, everyone in the world is incredibly lucky to be alive. Think about the very small chance of your parents meeting when they did. In the course of their youth and young adulthood, they would have met – even superficially – a few thousand people, among the hundreds of millions that they could have met, and of them the thousands they reasonably could have married. And if they had met someone else, you wouldn’t be here!

Moreover, and this is something of a head scratcher, there occurred an even greater “lucky event” in your past. Whereas your mother dropped one ovum each month down her fallopian tubes to be (potentially) impregnated, your father’s ejaculate contained close to one hundred million (100,000,000!) sperm. If that one specific sperm that impregnated your mom’s egg had been beaten in that swimming race by one other among the “99,999,999” sperm, would YOU be alive at all? Probably not – just someone pretty similar to you (at least, similar to when you were a newborn).

Clearly, becoming a living being is a function of existential luck – but how we live is a matter of personal attitude and perspective. As human beings we are capable of shifting our viewpoint once we look at the mirror straight on, instead of from the side. That seems to be what Kohelet was doing – a constant shifting of perspective to find the right life balance, and the correct balance regarding life. But the focus there was mainly on the vanity of “accomplishment” (as the Romans put it: sic transit gloria mundi: fame is fleeting), not on the fact of actually being alive.

In fact, each of us is even more lucky to be alive than the above parental egg and sperm scenario. That’s because the exact same “winning the life lottery” event occurred in each and every generation of everyone’s personal forebears! In other words, if any procreation act of any of your grand/grand/grand(etc)parents going back thousands of years had a different sperm win that specific impregnation race to the ovum, you would not be here (or anywhere, ever)!

Obviously, no one can go through life thinking about this every moment of the day. The problem is that few of us think at all about how lucky we are to be here. Sitting in our temporary sukkah, reading Kohelet might just be the perfect time for such reflection – not only despite Corona, but perhaps especially in the era of our contemporary plague.

Oct. 4, 2020

 

 

Without God (1)

Many years ago, as I was putting my (then) 7-year-old, youngest son to bed, I was ready to relate another nightly story. But before I could start, he turned to me with a serious face and said: “Abba, I have something to tell you.” I thought to myself: “here comes a confession of some minor infraction; after all, Avihai didn’t like to lie.”

“What is it?” I asked, with an inner smile.

“God doesn’t exist,” he responded.

To say that I was dumbfounded would be an understatement – by the very thought, and even more that a 7-year-old was even considering such a weighty matter!

But then again, why not? We all constantly mention the Almighty – whether in saying “My God!” or “God help you…”. Moreover, who doesn’t think about the big question: “who’s really in charge here?” And for children of religiously observant parents, it’s hard to avoid God altogether.

So let’s return to the substance of what my son said. I’ve been thinking about that for decades and have come to the conclusion (well, one of many on this broad issue), that the ability or tendency to Believe in God (or not) is something that we are born with i.e., it’s part of people’s nature. Of course, deep in their hearts many are somewhere in the middle: agnostic – not sure that He (or She) exists, but not sure either that an Almighty Being doesn’t exist.

To be sure, this isn’t only a matter of a person’s nature. Socialization is a large part of it as well (family and peer environment) – although that tends to influence the way we express our religion more than the actual belief itself. In short, it’s Nature and Nurture.

However, there’s a third aspect that is less talked about, but in my estimation is central to a person’s level of belief: existential angst. I know, that’s a mouthful. In simpler language this involves two quite different things: 1- the fear of “nothingness” that humans have regarding what happens after they die; 2- is there any rhyme or reason to life (or for that matter, the universe)?

The first fear can be felt at an early age, especially if a young person sees someone in the family (or close friend’s family member) pass away. (In Avihai’s case, it might not be coincidental that he made his declaration quite soon after Israel’s Gulf War in 1991, when everyone in the country was deathly worried about Scuds landing on their home.) This doesn’t mean that everyone – child and adult – will find succor in God’s hands. Many people will not accept a Being that they can’t see, hear, or touch – indeed, one (not One) who’s completely invisible. For a 3-year-old, the “virtual” is real (make-believe characters they converse with); by the age of 7 or thereabouts, the only real is the really real – for them, “make-believe is for babies.”

But for much of humanity, it’s not “make-believe” but rather they really believe. Or should I say, really need to believe. Which brings me to the “war” between atheists and believers. My first reaction to Avihai’s statement was to try and convince him otherwise. But I stopped myself, for if such a young boy can come to such a conclusion by himself (he certainly didn’t get this from our home!), why try at this stage to argue with what is (for him) a very natural conclusion? Yet, there’s a converse lesson here too: why should atheists try to convince religious believers of their “error”?

Here’s why they shouldn’t. Let’s try a “thought experiment.” You are told by a doctor friend with many years of experience as a family GP, that for so-called ailments, the best thing she does is to prescribe for the “patient” a placebo pill to be taken three times a day. “It’s amazing how many of my patients return after a while thanking me for the great medicine I had them take!”

Do you run off to inform his patients that it is all a scam; the “medicine” is a sugar pill? Of course not! Why not? Because in fact, it works! Now for the above doctor’s vignette, substitute “existential angst” for “ailment”, and “God and prayer” for the “placebo pill.” You as an atheist might feel that they are being duped; they feel (and in actuality, receive) relief from their spiritual “ailment.”

Thus, there is nothing so exasperating to me as religious people who try to convince atheists that God exists – and equally maddening, atheists who try undercut religious belief of the observant and the worshipper. If both sides are happy with their (un)belief, they should leave the other side alone.

Which leaves open one gigantic question. All this might be fine and dandy on the micro-individual level, but don’t religious belief and conversely atheism have consequences on the macro-societal level? I’ll relate to that question in my next post.

New

In my lifetime, I have had several significant changes that in a sense made me start “anew.” Leaving the cloistered world of Jewish Day School education to go to City College; moving to Israel from comfortable America; changing my academic research and teaching discipline mid-career from Political Science to Communications; and so on. Which gets me thinking – as we enter the Jewish NEW Year – about the concept of “new” in our life.

 

Human beings like to feel comfortable, another word for “habitual.” Radical change – except for those whose lives are truly miserable – is not something sought after. Think of the expression “tried and true.” That doesn’t merely mean that based on past experience it’s the correct thing to do (or that “it works”); it can also mean that what we have done in the past is the “true me.”

 

Unfortunately, people also tend to get bored doing the same thing over and over again. Assembly-line work is definitely alienating (a la Charley Chaplin’s hilarious Modern Times scene where he can’t keep up with the objects flying by). Office work can also be mind-numbing. Thus, at some point we need to find something “new.” But that runs the gamut from the trivial to the truly life-altering.

 

The question for each of us is finding the right balance between doing something new and continuing the tried and true. A lot depends on personality: some are thrill seekers; others, safe and sound bodies. Some are very good at finding the right amount of “new” by themselves; others need some outside push.

 

Which is where a New Year comes into play. We are well aware that Rosh Hashana or January 1 do not mark something really “new.” They mainly signify starting the same old cycle (“calendar”) all over again. But what they do offer is the opportunity for each of us to really think about whether – and to what extent – we do want to have something “new” in our life.

 

Once a year is obviously not enough, so we invent other “new-thinking” devices: a birthday; an anniversary. These are what I would call “potential-new”: getting us to consider what could be new the coming year, if we so willed it. Then there are the “already-new” events: engagement party, wedding, housewarming: these symbolize that we have already decided and undertaken to begin something new – but that still leaves the question of how to “manage” this new life.

 

Overall, there are three main “new” events in our life: marriage; children; retirement. (Of course, they can include some variations: divorce; empty nesting; spouse’s passing.) In each of these, we are never completely ready – or fully cognizant – of what this “new” entails, but we are willing to jump in. However, there are two differences between the first two and the third. First, marriage and children are almost always events that we have control over (excepting shotgun weddings and pregnancy “mistakes”). On the other hand, retirement is largely “forced” on us by law or physical/mental frailty.

 

That’s the bad news. The second difference is better news: whereas marriage and children restrict our ability to pursue the “new,” retirement opens up a whole world of new opportunities, without many of the life encumbrances we had pre-retirement. For the thrill- seeking types, that’s great; for more conservative individuals it can be a big problem because after 65-75 years of habitual life, it isn’t easy to switch to new types of activity, new outlooks, new ways of looking at our personal world.

 

The bottom line: we all hope to retire someday (that’s much better than the alternative, except for the “lucky” few who want to, and can, work until they drop). That’s a new situation – but it won’t be very successful unless we prepare ourselves way ahead of time psychologically and practically (hobbies; interests; etc.). And if already the Jewish New Year, then this coming one also happens to be a once-in-seven “Shmitta” year when traditionally the land lies fallow, and we all take a long rest from work. A good time as any to think not only of the coming year but future retirement as well, for a successful and fruitful new start.

Perfection(ism)

I am a rehabilitated perfectionist. How did I originally get to be that type of person? Probably because I was born with that personality trait. Or perhaps it’s a result of my German-origin parents (what’s called in Yiddish a “yekke” – but that can degenerate into “yekke-putz”). I can recall only one incident when I was young that might have egged it on: I came home from school one day with a 98 on my math test, and my father asked me: “why didn’t you get 100?” But that was the only time I ever heard that line at home (although it has stuck in my head, so who knows?). “Tiger parents” they were not, although they expected that at least I always put in a good effort.

Perfectionism is a silent “disease” – not anatomical but rather psychological. When we are faced with such a person, it’s also almost always hidden from sight – or perhaps I should say that most of us can’t see it hiding in front of our very eyes. That’s because we tend to look with envy or awe at successful people, or at least those who produce things that are way above what we are capable of. But all that hides the inner turmoil – or at least nagging angst – of the “successful” person. Their “problem” is that they set an impossibly high bar for themselves, and since they can’t really reach it, they get disappointed with what they have produced. That at times can lead them to waste inordinate amounts of time “fixing,” “improving,” “redoing” or other types of “productive procrastinations” that are actually very unproductive.

There are two reasons for such added unproductivity. First, perfectionists can never fill their own Olympian expectations. The attempt is akin to Xeno’s Paradox: you can keep on getting closer and closer to your goal, but each “half increment advance” only brings you that much closer – you don’t ever “arrive.” A second reason, as with almost every other area of life: the “Last Mile” is the most difficult or most expensive (in time or money).

But let’s say that ultimately a perfectionist does succeed in reaching perfection after great effort. What was gained? What was lost? The gain is minimal, if we are to compare the “really good” (even “great”) initial product with the final one of “perfection.” Meanwhile, what is lost is precisely that: WHILE s/he was redoing and refining the product again and again (and again), s/he could have produced all sorts of other very good/great things – worth far more than the minor incremental improvement of that initial, one product.

There are, of course some exceptions. If we are working on a work of art (fiction, article, computer program, or any other “product” for which we hope/expect it to last for a very long time), then it does make some sense to take the time to refine over and over. Mozart was notorious for simply dashing off whole symphonies and sonatas with nary a second look – until he worked on his later quartets and quintets (revolutionary for their time), for which we see in his score a huge amount of changes. For understandable reasons, composers in general can be given lots of leeway in their path to musical “perfection.” As the 20th century compositional giant Arnold Schoenberg once explained: “A composer’s most important tool is an eraser.”

Furthermore, none of this is to suggest that we shouldn’t look at our “first draft” as a rough sample of the final product. Some people (“hares”) work straight through in a creative frenzy; they need to go back and carefully polish their work. Other people (“turtles”) slog through an initial creation; their work might be closer to “ready for prime time,” but here they have to consider the totality of what they have done, given how much time elapsed between the beginning part and end section of their work – two poles that might be less connected than warranted. In either case (and other working styles as well), checking and refining is not neurotic perfectionism but rather good work practice. Checking and refining several times over is a problem, probably hiding such a psychological issue.

So how did I “heal” myself from my “disease”? I simply set a hard and fast rule: maximum TWO additional “polishing/proofing” run-throughs. After that, no matter what, I send it off. Therefore, if you find a minor error here and there in this essay, so be it. My “extra” time – as will be yours, whatever you’re doing – is better spent moving on to the next project.

In the final analysis (hopefully, not too much analysis), it behooves all of us to internalize the immortal saying: “perfection is the enemy of accomplishment.”