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The Mystery of the Covenant of Fate

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Now we have done with useless conjectures.  The rational explanations try to erase the powerful impression of the paradox.  However, this is not possible.

 

"Our neighbors accuse us of the sins of our fellow Jews, and make the Talmudic adage, "If Tuvia sins, should Zigud suffer?" into an everyday reality which is challenged by no one.  The identification of the actions of the individual with the actions of the nation is a great principle in the history of our people.  Our detractors do not permit the individual to isolate himself within his separate sphere.  They remove him from his four cubits to the public arena, and there they severely criticize the majority because of him.  This yardstick is used only for the Jewish people and not for other nations.

 

I repeat, the scientific explanations of this phenomenon are not satisfactory.  It makes no difference if its source is psychological or political-historical.  The scientific explanation does not solve the mystery.  The phenomenon remains unsolved.  For us, religious Jews, there is one explanation for this riddle: the hand of the Covenant of Fate, which was sealed in Egypt regarding the absolute uniqueness of the nation, is revealed through this baffling reality."   (Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, "Kol Dodi Dofek")

 

     Rabbi Soloveitchik speaks of two explanations: the psychological and the political-historical.  These are more or less parallel to the two levels of explanations of anti-Semitism which we have described.  Rabbi Soloveitchik does not consider them to be satisfactory.  What these explanations accomplish is a kind of scientific organization of the phenomena, which does not explain them.  "The phenomenon remains unsolved."  Anti-Semitism is connected to the "Covenant of Egypt," which was made with our nation, and still applies to us.  This is the loneliness which is expressed in the term "Ivri:" for "All the world was on one side [Hebrew: Ever echad] while he [Avraham] was on the other side [Ever echad]."

 

Cain and Anti-Semitism

 

Rihal relates to anti-Semitism in the framework of his approach to the divine influence.  "The divine influence" [Ha-inyan Ha-eloki], as we know, refers to the relationship between man and God.  The appearance of the Inyan Eloki also means the beginning of the tension that came into being because of the uniqueness of our people.

 

     Beyond the political, economic and social hostility of anti-Semitism, there hides a metaphysical principle.  The prototype of this tension, according to Rihal, is the conflict between Cain and Abel [1:95].  To understand this we will have to explain the concept of the "son of God" which the Torah uses.  The children of God are a unique race.  Abel is one of them, and he reaches the divine influence.  Cain does not.  Thus religious jealousy, which is stronger than economic jealousy, is born.  This enmity was the cause of Cain killing Abel.  The Rambam would later repeat this idea in his "Epistle to Yemen."

 

The Four Principles of the Covenant of Fate

 

Loneliness is expressed in anti-Semitism, yet it is also present in the "the individual's embrace of the group," an emotion which connects the Jew to the nation, "and the sense of severance from the foreign world which cannot be explained."  It takes place in Egypt, and the exile of Egypt becomes a kind of model for the future.  It is in Egypt that the congregation of Israel rises to the level of a nation.  Rav Soloveitchik defines the word nation, Am, as "togetherness" - the Hebrew word Im.  This is an etymological interpretation, which claims that the Hebrew word "Am" points to the unity between brothers, and what was for Abraham the destiny of the individual, now became the destiny of the nation.  Most interesting is the fact that this destiny follows the Jew even when he abandons his religion, "even if he desecrates his Sabbath, defiles his table and his bed," meaning even if he abandons the commandments connected with forbidden foods and family purity, even if he "denies his nation," despite all this he cannot abandon the God of the Hebrews.

 

     Jewish law expressed this separateness with a symbol, which was intended to stay with the Jew even after death: the concept of a Jewish burial.  Thus Joseph made his brothers swear an oath that was intended to be passed on from generation to generation, so that the grandchildren would take Joseph's bones with them when they left Egypt.

 

Jewish burial is an example of the fact that we must study not only the reasons for the commandments, but also their effects.  Jewish burial is a commandment that was maintained, similar to circumcision, even after many other commandments were abandoned, and in many cases, even after the entire religious system was discarded.  This was a commandment that even Jews whose lifestyles were far from traditional tried to keep.  This can be demonstrated in the histories of various communities in the world, particularly in North America, where communities were born through the struggle over the existence of Jewish burial.  Paradoxically, communities were born on the basis of the "Chevra Kadisha," the Jewish Burial Society - in other words, out of the concern that Jews be given a Jewish burial. 

 

     The Covenant of Fate symbolizes the Zionist response to anti-Semitism.  Zionism means overcoming the negative through a positive response.  Rav Soloveitchik enumerates four expressions of this awareness:

 

"1.  Awareness of a joint fate: the first component is our feeling that we have a common history.

 

We are all part of a unified fate which connects all the groups in the nation, with all its parts and tribes, and does not distinguish between one status and another or between one individual and another.  The common fate does not distinguish between nobles and peasants, between rich and poor, between the purple-robed prince and the beggar who collects charity door to door, between a religious Jew and an assimilated one.  Although we speak a plethora of languages, although we are residents of different countries, even if our appearance is different, although we live under different economic standards and different living conditions, we share a common fate.  When a Jew is beaten in a cave, the security of the Jew who stands in the courts of kings is threatened.  "Do not imagine that you will escape the fate of the Jews in the palace," Mordechai warns Queen Esther.  Queen Esther dressed in royalty and Mordechai dressed in sackcloth share the trap of a historical event.  We are all either persecuted to death or saved with ultimate salvation."

 

     This unity of fate is represented by biblical heroes.  A good example is the Scroll of Esther.  Two people act in it, Esther and Mordechai: Mordechai who knows of Haman's evil plan, wearing sackcloth, while Queen Esther is dressed in royal clothing.  Yet they are both connected.  In a cave or in the courts of kings there is a common future of danger or ultimate salvation.

 

"2.  Second, the awareness of shared historical events creates an experience of shared suffering.

 

The feeling of sympathy is a fundamental feature of the consciousness of the unifying fate of the Jewish people.  The suffering of one part of the people affects the people as a whole.  The scattered and dispersed people mourn together and are comforted together.  The texts of our prayers, our laments and our spiritual comfort are all formulated in the plural.  The pleas that ascend from the abyss of affliction are not restricted to the suffering and pain of the individual supplicant.  They include the needs of the entire community.  When a person has a sick relative, he cannot pray for him alone but must pray for all the sick of Israel.  If one enters a mourner's home to comfort him and wipe the tears from his grieving face, one directs one's words of comfort to all who mourn for Zion and Jerusalem.  The slightest disturbance in the condition of a single individual or group ought to grieve all of the various segments of the people in all their dispersions.  It is both forbidden and impossible for the "I" to isolate himself from his fellow and not share in his suffering.  If the premise of shared historical circumstance is correct, then the experience of shared suffering is the direct conclusion of that premise...

 

The same holds true with regard to the question of the unity of the Jewish people.  The authoritative ruling is that as long as there is shared suffering, in the sense of "I will be with him in trouble" [Psalms 91:15], there is unity.  If the Jew upon whom divine Providence has shone, and who believes that, at least with respect to him, the venom of hatred and rejection has been removed from his surroundings, still experiences the troubles of his people and the burden of a fate-laden existence, then his link with the nation has not been broken." 

 

     This phenomenon brings about the experience of shared suffering.  The pauper must experience the suffering of his brethren.  The third element is the conclusion of the earlier one.  It discusses mutual involvement, obligation and responsibility.  From here comes the concept of "arvut" - mutual responsibility, which is a legal term.

 

"3.  Third, joint suffering creates a feeling of joint obligation and responsibility... Shared responsibility constitutes not only a theoretical halakhic concept but also a central element of Jewish history in the Jews' relationships with the nations of the world."

 

The third dimension is connected to the concept of Kiddush Hashem - sanctifying God's name.  Rabbi Soloveitchik describes a life of Kiddush Hashem, in the sense that the individual is not alone.  His actions are recorded on the roster of the nation.  In other words, he does not act as an individual, an anonymous person, but as a representative of the nation at every moment, and thus also of God, who is connected to the nation.  This is a serious responsibility, yet on the other hand it makes the life of the Jew into something unique and full of significance.  We will discuss Kiddush Hashem in the next section:

 

The commandment to sanctify the divine Name and the prohibition against desecrating the divine Name can be explained very well in the light of this principle of shared responsibility and liability.  The actions of the individual are charged to the account of the community.  Any sin he commits besmirches the name of Israel in the world.  The individual must therefore answer not only to his personal conscience but also to the collective conscience of the people.  If he behaves properly, he sanctifies the name of Israel and the name of the God of Israel; if he sins, he casts shame and disgrace on the people and desecrates the Name of its God.

 

4.  We now move on to the fourth element: cooperation.  This is expressed in one of the most important phenomena in Jewish tradition: the activity, the mutual help, the charitable works which help overcome suffering, and which express the participation in the suffering of the other.  Here the reader is given the opportunity to learn about this historical phenomenon, and the wide variety of Jewish charity institutions throughout Jewish history. 

 

Fourth, shared historical circumstances give rise to shared activity.  The obligation to give charity and perform deeds of loving-kindness derives its force from the all penetrating and all encompassing experience of brotherhood.  The Torah, in laying down these commandments, uses the term Ach, brother, instead of the term Reah, fellow. 

 

"And if thy brother be waxen poor... then thou shalt uphold him... and he shall live with thee."

[Leviticus 25:35] 

"Thou shalt not harden thy heart, nor shut thy hand from thy needy brother... thou shalt surely open thy hand unto thy poor and needy brother in thy land."

[Deuteronomy 15:7, 11]

 

The confrontation with the people's strange and unusual fate-laden existence endows the Jew with a unifying consciousness in the field of social action.  The common situation of all Jews without distinction - whether manifested on the objective level as shared historical circumstances or on the subjective level as shared suffering - opens up founts of mercy and loving-kindness in the heart of the individual on behalf of his brethren in trouble, which indirectly affects him as well.  Maimonides formulated this idea in his unique style, at once highly concise and overflowing with idea:

 

"All Jews and those who have attached themselves to them are to each other like brothers, as it is said, "Ye are the children of the Lord your God" [Deuteronomy 14:1].  If brother shows no compassion to brother, who will show compassion to him? And unto whom shall the poor of Israel raise their eyes? Unto the heathens, who hate and persecute them? Their eyes are therefore uplifted solely to their brethren." (Hil. Matnot Aniyim 10:2)

 

We have stated that it is the consciousness of the fate imposed upon the people against their will and of their terrible isolation that is the source of the people's unity, of their togetherness.  It is precisely this consciousness as the source of the people's togetherness that gives rise to the attribute of chesed, which summons and stirs the community of fate to achieve a positive mode of togetherness through ongoing joint participation in its own historical circumstances, in its suffering, conscience, and acts of mutual aid.  The lonely Jew finds consolation in breaking down the existential barriers of egoism and alienation, joining himself to his fellow and actively connecting himself with the community.  The oppressive sense of fate undergoes a positive transformation when individual personal entities blend together to form a new unit - a People.  The obligation to love one another stems from the consciousness of this people of fate, this lonely people that inquires into the meaning of its own uniqueness.  It is this obligation of love that stands at the very heart of the covenant established in Egypt.

 

Identity and Essence

 

Until now we have discussed the "Covenant of Fate" of Jewish existence throughout the generations which united Jews who were far from their religion.  The covenant of fate expresses a coerced existence.  However, the discovery of Jewish fate is not all there is.  In his "Meditations on the Jewish Question," Sartre, the great existentialist philosopher, writes of the Jew:

 

"What is it, then, which creates in the Jewish community an image of unity? To answer this question we must return to the concept of the state of being.  Neither the past, nor religion, nor land are what unifies the Jews.  If something binds them together, and grants them all the name of Jew, it is their common state of being.  In other words: they all live within a society which sees them as Jews... the Jew is a person whom others see as a Jew: this is the simple truth, which must be accepted as a starting point... the anti-Semite makes the Jew." 

 

And indeed, this conclusion was correct with regard to the assimilated Jews who had abandoned their Jewishness and thought that they had achieved complete integration into  gentile society.  They discovered the essence of Judaism against their will, and their Judaism was expressed only through their being the object of anti-Semitic hatred.  Sartre was not acquainted with the believing Jew, living the Covenant of Destiny.  Here we must return to a basic concept in Jewish identity.

 

     In order to clarify the relationship between the impact of anti-Semitism and the Jewishness of the Jew, it is possible to use a number of concepts which were developed by Professor Shimon Herman in his research of Jewish identity.  When he speaks of the identity of the Jew, Herman suggests that we distinguish between two different concepts: prominence and worth.  We will simplify the concepts, which he defined very stringently, in order that they may be easily understood.  Prominence describes the relation between a particular content in the consciousness, and the overall consciousness itself.  Prominence can slide between zero and "all."  This prominence does not mean a thing with regard to worth.  Thus we can find a person who is very uninterested in his Jewishness, but thinks that Jewishness is a positive thing.  In contrast, there could be someone else who is very interested in his Jewishness, but his attitude towards a Jew is negative.

 

     Thus we can find Jews who are assimilated, yet who identified with their Jewishness, such as Einstein, Freud and Buber, while others tried to erase every last remnant of their Jewish identity.  At times, historical events will highlight the prominence of the Jewish phenomenon.  Anti-Semitism is an example of such an event.  This was the situation of the assimilated Jews at the time of Hitler, when they were suddenly forced to recall something they had always tried to forget - their Jewishness.

 

     Such an assimilated Jew could find himself in a very difficult anti-Semitic situation because of his Jewishness.  Jewishness becomes especially prominent for him.  It takes up his entire awareness, but it does not necessarily raise the worth of Jewishness for him.  In fact, it can often cause self-hatred and hatred of Judaism.  The tragic fate of the assimilated Jew did not always alter his perception of the worth of Jewishness.  In contrast, Kiddush Hashem is a phenomenon of maximal worth and maximal prominence.

 

     Thus an equation of prominence and worth can be described as the strength of the individual's Jewish identity.  Anti-Semitism can alter the prominence, but usually it does

not alter the sense of worth. 

 

     Identity does indeed have two dimensions: worth and prominence.  Worth describes the relationship of the person to his identity, while prominence describes the amount of his personality this identity takes up.  The assimilated Jews who were the inspiration of Sartre are a tragic example of people for whom the worth of Jewishness was zero.  However, suddenly, because of historical events and because of hatred of the Jews, the prominence of their Jewishness reached its maximum.

 

     If, God forbid, this were all there was to Judaism, Sartre's analysis would be correct.  He reached his conclusions through extrapolation.  Of course, he had not truly analyzed Judaism, and his misperception is not only false but dangerous.  We do not view ourselves merely as an object for the projections of strangers.  We see ourselves first of all as having an essence, a goal, as fighting for our existence, and discovering our identity and the meaning of our own existence.  We do encounter anti-Semitism and try to fight against it, but this is a tragic phenomenon outside of us, and we do not construct our identity upon it.  Fate affects prominence, while destiny affects worth.  We believe in both the Covenant of Fate and the Covenant of Destiny.  Only Jewish destiny adds the essential meaning and significance to our to identity.

    

The Covenant of Destiny

 

The difference between the Covenant of Fate and the Covenant of Destiny can be understood with the aid of a simple example.  In a car there are a number of different systems.  Thus we can speak about the system which directs the car: the steering wheel, and another system which generates the energy necessary for movement.  There are other systems, which allow us to begin the movement: the starter, or to stop the car: the brakes.  This simple example can explain the role of anti-Semitism in modern history. 

 

Let us compare the movement of the Jewish people to the movement of a car.  Anti-Semitism was often the starter, and sometimes the energy, but never the steering wheel.  It's like a car which is stuck and can't get started.  The cars that can be started through pushing, we push.  To our sorrow, anti-Semitism was the push which stirred many Jews into action.  However, if this push is employed without the use of the steering system, the car may roll off a cliff.  This is true regarding anti-Semitism as well.  Anti-Semitism can bring the Jews to deterioration, insanity, despair and even self-loathing.  However, in many cases anti-Semitism paradoxically became a source of positive energy, which has brought many Jews to perform great deeds. 

 

Anti-Semitism alone could never be an answer or a direction.  To find direction one needs other sources.  This can be learned from a simple fact.  The Dreyfus trial spurred Herzl on towards his Zionist viewpoint, however, it did not alter the beliefs of Dreyfus himself.  Dreyfus died far from Judaism, despite the fact that he was the central figure of the "affair."  If one studies Herzl's biography, it becomes clear that the source of his Jewish and Zionist position was not the Dreyfus trial.  Its roots were much farther back, and various events in his life foreshadowed the change that was to take place.  These examples illustrate that anti-Semitism can spur us on, but it cannot give solutions to problems.  These must come from a different place, from an inner source.  Zionism is not a result of anti-Semitism.  It is a modern expression of the eternal desire to return to Zion and the resurrection of the Nation and the Land. 

 

Zionism organized the political means, which made this return possible.  In contrast, the Zionism which is rooted in the sources of Judaism is the Covenant of Destiny.  There is no better way to present the Covenant of Destiny than the words of Rabbi Soloveitchik:

 

What is the nature of the Covenant of Destiny? Destiny in the life of a people, as in the life of an individual, signifies a deliberate and conscious existence that the people has chosen out of its own free will and in which it finds the full realization of its historical being...

 

What is the content of the Covenant at Sinai? It consists in a special way of life which directs man's existence toward attaining a single goal, a goal beyond the reach of the man of fate, namely, man's imitation of his Creator through an act of self-transcendence.  The creative activity which suffuses the Covenant of Destiny flows from a source unknown to the man of fate.  It derives from man's rebellion against a life of sheer facticity, from the desire pulsating within him for more exalted, more supernal modes of being.  The deeds of loving-kindness and brotherhood, which are interwoven into the covenant at Sinai, have as their motivating force not the Jew's strange sense of isolation, but rather his experience of the unity of a people forever betrothed to the one true God.  The absolute unity of God is reflected in the unity of the people bound to Him eternally.  "Thou art One and Thy name is One, and who is like unto Thy people Israel, one nation on earth?" Jewish fellowship in this dimension is a result of the special filial relationship the members of this people enjoy with God...

 

How do fate and destiny differ? In two ways.  First, fate entails an existence of necessity; destiny is a freely willed existence, created by man himself as he chooses and charts his own path in life.  Second, fate expresses itself in a bare, teleologically blank existence; destiny possesses both significance and purpose... A shared destiny means the unconstrained ability of the will to strive toward a goal; it means the free decision to devote oneself to an ideal; it means yearning for God.  Jonah, in the end, cast off the blind fate pursuing him and chose the exalted destiny of the God of Israel.  "I am a Hebrew and I fear the Lord, the God of heaven" [Jonah 1:9].

 

To be sure, there is an element of separation present even in the experience of a shared destiny, however, the separation entailed by destiny differs completely from that entailed by fate.  It is not the negative feeling described in the prophetic vision of Bilaam,

 

"Lo, it is a people that shall dwell alone" [Numbers 23:9],

 

but rather a unique consciousness vouchsafed by Moses, in the last hours before his death, to Kenesset Israel,

 

"And Israel dwelleth in security, alone the fountain of Jacob" [Deuteronomy 33:28].

 

In truth, this separation is naught but the solitude of a pure and holy, splendid and glorious existence.  It is the solitude that finds its expression in a person's uniqueness, in his divine image, and in his existential "I" experience... it is the solitude concerning which Abraham spoke when he told his young men,

 

"Abide ye here with the ass, and I and the lad will go yonder; and we will worship" [Genesis 22:5]. 

 

While isolation involves harmful inferiority feelings deriving from self-negation, a person's solitude testifies to both his greatness and his sanctity, the greatness that is contained within his private domain and the sanctity that permeates the inner recesses of his unique consciousness.  Loneliness robs man of his tranquillity; solitude bestows upon him security, worth and dignity...

 

Judaism has always believed, as we emphasized at the beginning of our remarks, that a person has the ability to take his fate in his hands, and to mold it into destiny, into a life of freedom, meaning, and joy, that he has the power to transform isolation into solitude, a sense of inferiority into a feeling of worth.  It is for this reason that Judaism has emphasized the importance of the principle of free will; it is for this reason that it has attached such great value to human reason, which enables man to liberate himself from subjugation to nature and rule over his environment and subject it to his will.  The Jewish community is obliged to utilize its free will in all areas of life in general, but in particular on behalf of the welfare of the state of Israel.  If secular Zionism should finally realize that the state of Israel cannot terminate the paradoxical fate of Jewish isolation - that, to the contrary, the incomprehensible isolation of "and I will take you to Me for a people [Exodus 6:7] had become even more pronounced in the international arena - then it must put to itself the ancient query: "What is thine occupation? And whence comest thou? And of what people art thou?" [Jonah 1:8].  This question will be asked of us one way or another.  If we do not ask it of ourselves, then the non-Jew will put it to us; and we must answer proudly, "I fear the Lord, the God of Heaven" [Jonah 1:9].  Our historical obligation today is to raise ourselves from a people to a holy nation, from the covenant of Egypt to the covenant of Sinai, from an existence of necessity to an authentic way of life suffused with eternal ethical and religious values, from a camp to a congregation.

Translated by Gila Weinberg

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