The Land of Israel (1)

The Paradox

 

We will now reopen our discussion of the uniqueness of the Land of Israel, the great paradox we have been living since the birth of Judaism in the first pages of the Scriptures.  Before God there are no political or geographical boundaries, there are no boundaries of nations or of countries.  And yet, the great message of this universalism is expressed in two particularisms, two uniquenesses: the uniqueness of the People and the uniqueness of the Land.  The paradox teaches us that uniqueness is the path to universalism.  The uniqueness of the Jewish people is part of a plan that will lead us and the nations of the world to the end of days, a plan for the redemption of the entire world.  In this plan, the descendants of the Forefathers hold a unique place and position. 

 

This paradox was a focal point of constant debate with many thinkers, particularly those who have stemmed from Judaism and have accepted some of the general principles of our Torah.  The Scriptures proclaimed that Avraham would become the father of many nations.  And indeed, many nations have accepted the Torah of the Forefathers.  However, many of them wished to accept these principles while erasing the name of the Jews.  Sometimes this was done by actual killing of Jews, and generally it was done by stealing their identity, by claiming that they themselves are the true Jewish people.

 

Models

The paradox of uniqueness demands an explanation from within as well.  Rihal uses biological and climatic models to explain his central thesis.  In my opinion, the reader has a certain amount of freedom here.  He can accept these explanations as they are, or he can suggest corrections that lift these explanations to a higher plane.  Rihal attempts to analyze a difficult and central issue, but he lacks the tools for the job.  He saw the biological and climatic theories as models to explain his reality.  Thus, for example, Rihal used the fact that certain traits are present in the grandfather, disappear in the father and reappear in the third generation.    

In this way, Rihal wished to convey the surprising idea that traits can reappear despite an apparent break in continuity and education: that there can be resurrection after surcease.  What Rihal describes is a return to something that does not come from without but that already exists within.  The biological model is wonderful, because it demonstrates that potential can exist, for example in genetic makeup, and not be expressed outwardly.  The difference in genetics between a genotype and a phenotype is the difference between uniqueness and choseness.  There are traits that remain hidden because of the environment in which the organism develops; however the genotype, the uniqueness, the inner potential, continues to exist.  This description is true of the nation as well.  This is the essence of the principle of eternal uniqueness in the philosophies of Rihal, the Maharal and Rav Kook.

 

Territory

 

This topic brings us to the place of territory in Jewish thought.  We are better equipped, thank God, to discuss this question than previous generations, who read Rihal's philosophy regarding the land of Israel yet were severed from it.  Here in the land of Israel we face the full significance of Rihal's writings on the subject, as well as the difficult dilemmas that the topic raises.

 

     One can view the land of Israel as the place where the Jewish state resides.  This is an instrumental view, in which territory becomes a vehicle.  Like a house, a country is a place in which we live, and it constitutes, in the largest sense of the word, a vehicle, a tool necessary for our survival.  This is a rational approach, and stands as one the principles of Zionism.  This principle implies that Jewish existence in the Diaspora was abnormal and unhealthy, and that the nation must be healed and rehabilitated through Zionism.  This can be compared to a cripple who has lost the use of his hands and legs, and who hopes for the return of their powers.  The hands and legs represent the two central characteristics of political existence in an independent state.  The hands represent the nation's ability to defend itself militarily, while the legs symbolize the connection to the territory.  If we were to go in this direction we would reach the territorial basis necessary for the justification of the Zionist idea, and seemingly this would be enough. However, here we must learn the great lesson of the Kuzari.

 

     Let us jump to the end of the book.  At the end of the book, the Chaver bids farewell to the king and prepares to journey to the land of Israel.  "After these events the Chaver decided to leave the land of the Khazars and journey to Jerusalem."  The king is astonished:

"And the departure of the Chaver was difficult for the Kuzari and he spoke to him of it, saying, 'what is there to find in the land of Israel today, since the Holy Presence has left it?  And since the closeness of God can be achieved in any location by a pure heart and a strong desire; and why should you place yourself at the peril of the deserts and the seas and the hatred of the various peoples?'" (5:22)

 

     This question of the Kuzari king must amaze us.  Since the very first discourse, Rihal has emphasized the significance of the Land of Israel.  His journey to the Land of Israel is the necessary and logical result of all he has been saying and writing.  If so, why is the Kuzari king surprised?  The answer lies in the recognition of a paradox, which is expressed at the end of the book, and sheds a different light upon the entire book.  The Chaver had built a Jewish state in the land of the Khazars!  Not only that, but his place in that state is comparable to the role of the philosopher, who guides the king in his leadership of the ideal kingdom.  We can understand the significance of this ideal state when we read the letter that Hasdai Ibn Shaprut wrote to the Kuzari king.  He writes:

"If there is a place where there is a beacon and a kingdom for the exiles of Israel and they are not tyrannized or controlled, and if I knew that this was true, I would despise my own honor and depart from my greatness and desert my family and would speedily go up mountains, over land or sea, until I would reach the place where my lord the king rules to see his greatness and his glory and the residence of his subjects and the superiority of his servants and the repose of the exiles of Israel.  And upon seeing his greatness and glory, my eyes would alight and my innards rejoice and my lips would praise the One who had not withheld His bounty from my forlorn nation."

    

Hasdai Ibn Shaprut, the Jewish minister of the highest personal and political status in the Caliphate in Cordova, claims that he would abandon all of his honor and become a simple subject in the Jewish state in which the Jews have independence.  This state has religious significance as well:

"For how can I bleed for the destruction of our glorious House and for the few saved from the sword who went through fire and water, who are but a small remainder and have lost our honor and dwell in exile, and God does not assist us against those who say to us all the day, 'every nation has a kingdom and you have no remembrance in the land.'"

    

And a Jewish state exists, the kingdom of the Khazars.  However, Rihal instructs us through the paradox of his own life and choices.  The Chaver abandons a Jewish state, nobility, independence and everything that goes along with it, in order to travel to a place that is under foreign rule.  This place is the Land of Israel.  Here we learn the great lesson.  Our attitude towards the Land of Israel is not one of territory, in which, by chance, a Jewish state exists.  We relate to it as our destiny, and view the encounter with it as part of our essence as Jews.  Jewish sovereignty and independence are significant, but so is our relationship to the Land of Israel.  At the end of the book we will learn how Rihal envisioned the ultimate return to the Land of Israel and the redemption.  Herein lies the mystery and the paradox.  The return to the Land of Israel is not a tool or a means.  What we have here is here a relationship of encounter, a  cosmic meeting of those intended for each other from the beginning of time.  Just as it is written that every person's marriage partner is announced in Heaven forty days before his birth, so too it is announced that a particular field in the Land is intended for a particular person.  Our Sages wished to teach us the romantic idea that the connection between a couple exists before they meet for the first time, and that their meeting is not a chance occurrence.  So too the relationship between the People and the Land is more than a chance occurrence.  The relationship was written in the books of destiny.

Translated by Gila Weinberg