Friday, January 1, 2010

Judaism and Politics

Tzedek, tzedek tirdof - Justice, justice, shall you pursue Deut. 16:20

In September, around the High HolyDays, conservative commentator Norman Podhoretz wrote a column asking, “Why are Jews Liberals?” (You can find a link to the article and my commentary on my blog - http://sholomrav.blogspot.com/2009/09/why-are-jews-liberals-because-they-are.html). As the question on the intersection of Judaism and politics comes up quite often, I thought that I would take a moment to comment.

First of all, let us revisit the primary belief that Jews have about what Judaism has to say about politics: Judaism has nothing to do with politics and, further, religion and politics should be completely separated – especially when it’s somebody else’s religion and somebody else’s political beliefs. As a minority in a democracy, we Jews are often the first group to take umbrage when we hear a political statement delivered with a religious imperative. We hear these statements as, “God (or Allah or Ja or whoever) wants everyone to do this (or not do that) and there is no room for compromise as any other idea is wrong or a sin.” One of the values that, as a minority religious group, we most treasure is the idea of separation of church and state – which we often interpret as religion should have no influence on government.

What then is religion for? Why do we as Jews have a complex and nuanced moral system, honed by millennia of real-world interaction, if not to use as a guide to how we live in the world? Are we not challenged by our religion to be tillers and tenders of the earth? Engage in Tikkun Olam? Do justly and love mercy? If, as Aristotle termed it, the human being is a zoon politikon – a political animal, and politics is the interaction of human beings then it would be a sad religion, culture, or people that did not have some sort of political ethic.

Indeed, most of Judaism is political. The Ten Commandments, the b’rit (covenant) between God and the Jewish people is a political document – laying out our relationship with God (no idols, keep the Sabbath), detailing the society we must create (honoring our parents) and limiting our behavior (no murder, stealing, adultery, coveting, or bearing false witness). The books of Samuel and Kings are a political history of the Jewish nation. The books of the prophets are political screeds – decrying the current society and government and demanding change. Our highest hope in Judaism is the hope for a Messianic Age – a geopolitical moment when justice and mercy will rule for all on earth.

Perhaps it is that politics has become a dirty word – nothing that we would want to engage in; something immoral and certainly not proper for discussion in a house of worship. If so, the problem is not with politics, but the current practice (and perhaps practitioners) of it. Science is not bad because we have created weapons of terrible destruction. We have also found ways to extend life and better the lives of others. Politics (and, may I add, religion) is the same. We must find a way to act politically in a morally authentic – and Jewishly responsible – manner.

What I find in Judaism is not only a moral compass, but the lessons evidenced by centuries of struggle with making the world into a more ideal place. One of those lessons may be that my beliefs are not those of others, and I cannot force them to believe as I. However, that does not remove from me the responsibility of acting according to my Jewish values – of demanding that my government provide equal access to opportunity (as may or not have been provided for me and my ancestors), help to those who struggle, barriers to those who would take advantage of the powerless, and an opportunity to dream dreams larger than those I can construct with solely my own two hands. I do not ask others to act in this way because Judaism demands it of them, rather to explain that I must, because it demands it of me.