We live in an age of vigorous political debate, as liberals and conservatives present their views of the world and their prescriptions for how to redress our problems in books, articles, and speeches all over the country. With thoughtful and enthusiastic partisans on both sides, it just may be the first time in recent history in which Americans are actually taking political thought seriously. Perhaps because the stakes are so high, perhaps because there is no real consensus, how we understand the issues confronting us has important ramifications for the future we leave to our children. Within the Jewish community, Jewish progressives and Jewish neo-Conservatives offer competing assessments of how Jews ought to be acting politically.
None argue with the recognition that American Jews are a very liberal group. A decade ago, we voted against California’s Proposition 187 (the anti-immigrant proposition) by a higher margin than did any other ethnic group other than African Americans. Almost 80% of us voted for Democratic candidates in the last election. Had we been the only group voting, Al Gore would have won the presidency by a landslide. Liberals insist that this progressive stance has deep roots in Jewish moral and religious values. Conservatives insist that this liberal posture may once have served Jewish self-interest, but it is no longer beneficial to us and it is no longer moral.
One of the principal points of contention between the competing political factions is the issue of looking out for number one. On the one hand, there are those who argue that our attempt to care for other people is an effort we cannot afford financially, and is in opposition to our own self interest. As Jews, this view has it, we are the butt of the hatred and bigotry of the rest of the world. No one cares about our safety and our welfare, and no one lifts a finger to come to our aid. When the Jews were in trouble in World War II, the nations of the world turned their backs on us. And whenever the State of Israel is in need, the rest of humanity is willing to sit on its hands and let Israel sink. In such a hostile and uncaring world, Jews had best look out for themselves by looking out only for themselves.
Rather than making the needs of other groups, or some abstract commitment to “justice” among our primary goals, we need to focus on assuring our own self-interest. And since most Jews in America are professionals or entrepreneurs, our politics ought to reflect a bias in favor of business needs and property ownership. Jews need to take care of Jews.
In opposition to that stance, which has much to commend it, Jewish progressives insist that looking out for justice for all, and making special efforts to care for the poor and to provide opportunities for ethnic minorities and women is the best way to protect Jewish self-interest and to reflect Judaism’s traditional moral concerns. In times of financial straits, in times of resentment and animosity, it is the Jews who are among the first to become scapegoats of the hatreds of others. If we expect others to treat us with justice, we must be sure to treat others as we would be treated ourselves. On a purely practical level, looking out only for ourselves will put us in a precarious position with the majority culture.
But from the perspective of morality, these progressives argue, there is an even more compelling point. The answer to Cain’s selfish question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” is a resounding “yes.” The law most frequently repeated in the Torah is that “you shall have one law for yourself and for the stranger who dwells in your midst.” Legislation enforcing setting aside tithes for the poor (the earliest example of taxation for welfare payments) are at the cornerstone of Torah law. We are commanded to provide for the widow and the orphan. We established the world’s first universal (for males) public education system. Not merely our modern history, but our Torah legislation impels placing the concerns of others high on the Jewish agenda.
Today’s Torah portion was understood by the ancient rabbis as suggesting that same point. Among the other issues dealt with in this parashah, the Torah lists those animals that are not kosher and may not be eaten: the pig, the rabbit, shellfish, the stork, and forbidden insects.
The Talmud notes that the word for “stork” is hasidah, which they read as relating to the word hesed (lovingkindness). They note that the stork was given this illustrious name because it makes a point of sharing its food. Why then, if this bird is so praiseworthy, is it not kosher? Because it would only share food with its own kind.
Our hesed, if restricted only to providing for the needs and interests of our own kind is treif. To truly reflect God’s attribute of hesed we must be willing, as is God, to seek the welfare of all God’s creatures, and to pursue justice and peace for all humankind. Progressive or conservative, the Jewish litmus test for authenticity is our willingness to respond with tzedek and hesed, justice and compassion, to the needs of the other.
Shabbat Shalom!