Nahal Elgad Binyamin Shoham, Lihiyot le-Goel: Ha-Yesodot ha-Tziyyoniyyim be-Hasidut Ruzhin (Machon Har Bracha, 2024), 240 pp.
The ideological, social, and political discourse often suffers from linguistic failures. The disputants use the same word yet mean different things. Let’s consider two common concepts in our contemporary use of language as a starting point: Haredi and Hasid. From here we might then embark on a journey following Rabbi Nahal Elgad Binyamin Shoham’s new Hebrew book Lihiyot le-Goel (whose title might be translated as Becoming a Redeemer).
What does Haredi mean? Is this the singular form of “Haredim”? If so, we should say “Hared,” which could translate as “anxious,” a word referencing a person’s mental state; something such as love or fear. But what or who is a Haredi? It does not describe a state of mind but a social affiliation like “Ivri,” “Yevani,” or “Yehudi”: One who belongs to the Haredi community, a community defined by sociologists as “ultra-Orthodox.” It is impossible to know from such a person’s title anything about his degree of reverence for God or the precision of his mitzva observance. Therefore, “a Haredi thief,” for example, is not in and of itself an oxymoron. There is no reason why a person who belongs to a certain social group, even if that group flies the flag of strict observance, cannot be a criminal, in defiance of his society’s values. That society can denounce him or punish him, but he and his family still remain part of the society.
And what does “Hasid” mean? From Tanakh until recent generations, the title Hasid expressed a high state in the service of God: pious, faithful. This biblical expression, common in the book of Psalms, refers to those who fear God and those who love Him. Rabbi Yehuda Halevi’s Kuzari painted an image of the Hasid. Rabbi Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto dedicated several chapters in his Mesillat Yesharim to explaining the essence of a Hasid’s life and virtues and the ways to achieve them. Rabbi Eliyahu of Vilna, a major opponent of the Hasidic movement founded by the Ba’al Shem Tov, was himself known by the title “the Gaon and Hasid of Vilna,” because he was known not only for his Torah genius but also for his piety (hasiduto) in the service of God. As a general rule, a Hasid is someone who does kindness (hesed) for others and for God above, far beyond the letter of the law. However, since the rise of the Hasidic movement in the 18th century from the beit midrash of the Ba’al Shem Tov, Hasidism became synonymous with a social movement. Nowadays, when a person declares that he is a Hasid, he is asked whose Hasid he is, of whom is a devotee. He will answer, “I am the Hasid of Rebbe so-and-so.” The title “Hasid” has taken on a new meaning in recent generations and is understood to be a follower of a specific Rebbe, who accepts his teachings and authority, and belongs to the community of that Rebbe’s followers. In this regard, one can be a “wayward Hasid” and “sinning Hasid,” etc.—a phrase that was devoid of meaning in the Mishnaic or pre-modern sense of Hasid, a complete oxymoron. Nowadays it is possible, because the term Hasidic no longer describes a person’s character traits or his spiritual makeup, but his communal affiliation.
It will therefore not be surprising that in contemporary discourse, where Haredi and Hasid are used as group markers showing affiliation with distinct communities, it is nearly impossible to imagine that a person whose clothing and lifestyle mark him as belonging to one or the other group could also be aligned with Religious Zionism, as a worldview or as a political orientation (either as a candidate or as a voter). That such a person might also support military service or encourage the acquisition of a general education seems similarly fantastical. Nowadays, such acts would be tantamount to an official defection from the Haredi or Hasidic sectors, but in the language’s original meaning, there was no obstacle for a Haredi or a Hasid to identify as Religious Zionist. Indeed, there were many such Jews in the Diaspora and in the Land of Israel. Shoham’s book exposes his readers to the world of Religious Zionism of this original sense, as foreign as it may be to today’s scene.
The first part of the book deals with explaining the character and Hasidic leadership of Rabbi Israel Friedman of Ruzhin (1796–1850); the second part introduces us to three Rebbes of the Ruzhin dynasty, all of whom combined Haredism, Hasidism, Zionism, and modernism. These three were models for a once broad public whose voice is hardly heard today, for various reasons. Through an encounter with the doctrine of the founder of the dynasty and the three followers, readers meet the deep roots of a Religious Zionism that is not just a political party or a framework for political or sociological affiliation, but a wide-ranging, diverse, and multi-dimensional worldview.
The three figures on whom the book focuses are great-grandsons of Rabbi Israel of Ruzhin: Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel Shapira of Drohobych (1863–1924), who immigrated to Eretz Yisrael in 1922 and died in Jerusalem only two years later; Rabbi Jacob Friedman of Husiatyn (1878–1956), who arrived in the Holy Land 1937 with his father-in-law, the Rebbe R. Mordechai Shraga of Husiatyn and served as Rebbe of Husiatyn in Tel Aviv after the death of his father-in-law in 1949; and the third, Rabbi Shlomo Chaim (Shlomenyu, as he was known to his followers) of Sadigura (1887–1972), who immigrated to Tel Aviv in 1938. Reb Shlomenyu refused to serve as Rebbe, and dedicated his life to rescuing the children of Israel from the remains of the Holocaust in Europe and establishing educational institutions for them in the Land of Israel.
These rabbis were members of the fourth generation of the Ruzhin dynasty. They were born in Galicia, in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, before World War I, relocated to Vienna at the outbreak of the war, and in the wake of the Balfour Declaration of 1917, established a Religious Zionist organization. A few years later the organization merged with the Mizrachi movement, and the three rabbis were active and leading members in the movement. It goes without saying that if there were three such leaders, each of them also had a community, with students and Hasidim of their own, who followed his path and passed it on to their children after them.
The conceptual foundations that formed the basis of Ruzhiner Hasidic thought served as the basis for the Zionist work of the movement’s rabbis and are part of the foundations of Religious Zionism. We will focus on four central foundations examined and evaluated in Shoham’s book.
1. The Natural Path of Redemption
The European rabbis who opposed Zionism argued that salvation should arise in a miraculous way from heaven. Religious Zionism assumed that there was a possibility, and perhaps even a necessity, that redemption would come through human initiative, albeit with heavenly assistance. It was said in the name of R. Israel of Ruzhin: “I suspect that the future redemption will come about in a natural [i.e., non-miraculous] manner; that is, there will be great wars in the world, and then they will make a council of all the nations and decide to return to each nation to its own land, and thus they will return the Land of Israel to the people of Israel” (76). The Rebbe of Drohobych cited a well-known Talmudic passage about the timing of redemption:
The verse states: “I the Lord in its time I will hasten it” (Isaiah 60:22). It is written: “In its time,” indicating that there is a designated time for the redemption, and it is written: “I will hasten it,” indicating that there is no set time for the redemption. Rabbi Alexandri explains: If they merit redemption through repentance and good deeds I will hasten the coming of the Messiah. If they do not merit redemption, the coming of the Messiah will be in its designated time (Sanhedrin 98a).
The Rebbe then explained: “If they do not merit redemption—then the redemption will begin (athalta de-ge’ula) with hidden miracles, by the purification of the natural virtues of human beings in general, and by the strong aspiration of Israel to return to the land of their ancestors this very day.” Ruzhin Hasidut did not generally marvel at modern “miracles,” the Rebbe cynically remarking: “It’s astounding that in our current generation which praises the great ones of our day for performing many miracles. Who is greater than Elijah the prophet, who brought about seven or eight miracles, and of the prophet Elisha twice as many—but now they praise the righteous of our generation with fifteen miracles every day!” Therefore, they were open to the arrival of salvation in a natural way without visible miracles.
2. Love of Israel and Unity of the Nation
At the time of the Ba’al Shem Tov, Hasidism emphasized the importance of every Jewish person, even if he is a simple Jew and even a sinner. Ruzhin continued on this path. The great Hasidic leaders sought out the merits of each and every person of Israel, even those who do not keep mitzvot, out of their love for their people and a sense of responsibility towards every Jew wherever he is. Haredism, which fought against the Haskalah and its negative impact, developed an attitude of hostility and isolation from Klal Yisrael as a collective. Though they influenced certain circles in the Hasidic movement, the Ruzhiners and their ilk remained faithful to the Ahavat Israel tradition of the Ba’al Shem Tov and his disciples.
In the same vein, Reb Shlomenyu writes:
There is no greater poison that endangers the existence of the entire nation than division and hatred among brothers, and there is no healing, life-giving, and strengthening elixir than love of Israel and brotherly peace and unity, which is the goal of Hasidism. The devil dances among us, mercifully, like a shadow, and wants to create division among the people, and we must rise up against this with Hasidic enthusiasm, by loving one another with intense love, and by seeing the good in one’s fellow man.
3. Holiness in One’s Life and Body Particularly in the Land of Israel
Contemporary Haredism sanctifies seclusion from this-worldly life, and focuses on Torah study and prayer, thereby undervaluing people of action. Religious Zionism believes in “Torah ve-Avoda” (combining religious commitment with this-worldly action). In the words of the Rebbe of Husiatyn, “The proper service of God, in its most important form, is if one worships Him not only through Torah and prayer but also in worldly material things… The Torah does not intend to separate man from the worldly.”
4. Openness to the Surrounding World, Education, and Culture
Similar to Haredi isolationism from larger Jewish society and from the practical life in this world, Haredism closes itself off from general culture and secular education. The Zionist Rebbes continued the tradition of combining Torah with wisdom and the openness to receive the best the nations of the world had to offer. They saw the Haredi youth of their time as the pioneers who would lead the vanguard in the Land of Israel in the right combination of Torah and wisdom in the settlement of the Land of Israel. This is what they wrote in their appeal for the establishment of the Zionist-Orthodox organization “Tze’irei Yisrael” in Vienna: “In this great hour we appeal to the Haredi youth with the call: Organize! The youth of every avenue of our people understood the value of the present moment for our nation and its future and organized to ensure the development of themselves and their people, to be prepared for the great role they must fill in working for the revival of our people and our country.”
Among the sections of the organizing plan were the following goals:
1. To help members acquire a proper Jewish and general education; 2. To deepen the nationalistic affiliations of the members and to inspire in their hearts a love for the national heritage; 3. To impart the Hebrew language as our national language and as the key to all our culture and teachings to all members. 4. To become familiar with the spirit of the Torah and Judaism, in order to live according to it, by focusing on the treasures of Hebrew literature from all generations. 5. To place at the center of life the aspiration for the Land of Israel and a holistic Jewish life there in the spirit of the people and our tradition. 6. To care for the benefit of the masses of the people, for their needs and their rights in the Diaspora according to the place and time, not to seclude ourselves from the masses of the people, but to stand with them in constant contact, to live among the people, to rejoice in their joy and to be a support in their times of trouble (95).
If a contemporary Haredi were to ask you, “If that is the case, why don’t my rabbis follow this path?” the following amusing historical anecdote might serve as an answer. Rabbi Menachem Nachum Friedman of Itzkan (d. 1933), a relative of the trio who contributed to the establishment of the Zionist-Haredi organization, related the following: “A group of innocent Hasidic idlers (batlanim) saw a group of clean-shaven, Sabbath violating Jews, but who were nevertheless young men concerned with the needs of the Jewish community. One Hasid inquired who they were. His friend answered and said: They are Zionists. These Hasidim went to the beit midrash and preached: ‘The Zionists are Jews with shaved beards, who are Sabbath-breakers!’ And this was accepted among the people of the beit midrash, that Zionism is lawlessness and heresy. Indeed, even though the wise men came and called out: Do you know what Zionism is? It is nothing less than love for the Land of Israel, love for the people of Israel and for its Torah and its commandments. And do you know who the Zionists are? The true Zionists are those who pray three times a day and say: ‘And to Jerusalem your city with mercy return…’ and call out whenever they have the chance: ‘Next year in Jerusalem.’ They rise at midnight and weep over the destruction and say, ‘For my temple I will weep day and night, and for the glory of Zion, the city of glory.’ But those you saw are secular Jews, Sabbath-breakers, and yet because they also have love and longing for their people and their land, they were also called Zionists. But to the sorrow of our hearts and souls, they did not heed the words of truth in the beit midrash, and those Hasidim remained mere idlers.”
Nahal Elgad Binyamin Shoham’s book presents a historical model of combining Haredism, Hasidism, and Religious Zionism. He shows contemporary Haredim and Hasidim the precedents on which they may rely should they wish to reevaluate their policy of distancing themselves from Israeli society, from secular education and worldly wisdom, and even from military service. Familiarity with the not-so-distant past can allow those interested to find ways through cultural barriers, to discover that Religious Zionism is not a surrender to surrounding society, but rather a return to the deep roots of the tradition from which they draw.
Rabbi Prof. Yehuda Brandes is President of Herzog College in Gush Etzion and Jerusalem.