What was once called “extremism” is the new normal. It is not, as Shafran writes, a phenomenon of a small group of “outliers” who throw things or call people names, while the majority “fully embrace all Jews, including those estranged from observance or mired in the milieu.” Rather, both the political and religious establishments in the Haredi world are increasingly intolerant of anything but the Haredi worldview.
Read more in The Forward
Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll
Too often, we speak of the plight of the agunah as if it were an inevitable, albeit tragic, fact of life. Like cancer or a natural disaster, we are passive in the face of this devastating misfortune. It could happen to anyone, we say.
MK Aliza Lavie
Every year, the special “Misheberach [Prayer] for the Agunah”circulates on social media as we plead God to alleviate the agunah’s suffering. Some even cite the fixture of the agunah as a testament to a community’s piety, the noble victim whose “sacrifice is a public, ongoing reaffirmation of the legitimacy and inviolability of the religious laws surrounding marriage and divorce.” A prominent halachist famously remarked that the unsolved agunah problem was his own “personal akedah,” evoking Abraham’s morally conflicted sacrifice of his son. Just yesterday, in a special Knesset meeting, one woman proposed to enshrine the status of agunah as a special legal category as a way for agunot to obtain eligibility for single mother benefits from the state.
Former MK Dov Lipman
As a community, we have settled — uncomfortably — into the reality that the agunah problem is one to be managed, not solved.
By treating it as a divine decree, however — an act of God rather than an aggression of man — we exempt ourselves from liability or claims of negligence. Our personal agency does not even factor into the equation. Such thinking leads to the types of “solutions” mentioned above — ones that express sympathy or even outrage but are always looking back, reactively, to a problem.
Read more on the Times of Israel
Rachel Stomel
At Monday’s Knesset debate on the Mikveh Bill, those in attendance were treated to mansplaining on an institutional level, some serious political games and, possibly, a bit of fraud.
Background
In Israel, what a woman does in the mikveh is not simply her own business. The Chief Rabbinate, religious councils and the balanit (mikveh attendant) are all involved. Women whose immersion practices and traditions are at odds with the dictates of the Rabbinate are often refused access to the publicly-funded mikvaot. In order to put a stop to this, a number of lawsuits have been filed with the Supreme Court in the past few years. Though successful in theory, the rules which establish women’s rights in the mikveh have not been put into practice. Thus, in a new suit, filed by the organization ITIM, 13 women are suing the Chief Rabbinate. The hearing is set for later this month.
Earlier this year, another Supreme Court case was filed – and won – about mikveh use. This case made it illegal to refuse the right to use state-funded mikvaot for Conservative and Reform conversions.
It was this case that led MK Moshe Gafni of United Torah Judaism to sponsor the so-called Mikveh Bill. The original writing of the bill states that “using a public purification mikveh, which is intended for immersion for purification or for conversion purposes, will only be permitted for halakhic immersion, conforming with the halakha (religious law) and with Jewish custom according to the Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish law) and the rulings of the Chief Rabbinical Council in Israel.”
While Gafni claims that the law is simply to ‘safeguard Judaism’ and prevent non-Orthodox conversions in state mikvaot, the people who will be most affected by the bill are Orthodox and traditional Jewish women who use the mikveh monthly.
How so? Under this ruling, women may only use the mikveh according to the Chief Rabbinate’s interpretations of Jewish law and tradition. If a woman’s tradition or ruling by her rabbi are not in line with the rulings of the Chief Rabbinate, she can be denied use of the mikveh. For example, women are barred from immersing without an attendant (despite this being permitted by the Shulchan Aruch). The bill also bars single women, women preparing to ascend the Temple Mount and women who would like to immerse for whatever purposes that they may choose — for example, to renew themselves after trauma or to mark an occasion (see here for more).
The bill was signed by 11 male MKs from UTJ, Shas and HaBayit HaYehudi and one female MK: Shuli Moalem of Bayit Yehudi. From the beginning, however, Moalem made her support for the bill contingent on key changes to the bill’s wording that would protect the women who use mikvaot, allowing them to immerse according to their own traditions.
Monday, June 5, 2016
The debate was nearly over before it began. In attendance were: MKs Gafni, Eichler, Azulay, Moelem, Azaria, Lavie, Stern, Swid, Glick, and Paran. Also present were representatives of numerous organizations, as well as individual women for whom autonomy and privacy in the mikveh are vital. It was standing-room-only; nonetheless, many of the men in the room seemed bewildered as to why so many women were present for the discussion.
The discourse was truly shocking. The concerns of religious and traditional women, whom the religious parties claim to protect, were dismissed completely out of hand.
The Play-by-Play
Because Gafni had not disclosed changes he had made to the bill, Moelem insisted on tabling the discussion.
MKs Rachel Azaria and Aliza Lavie, as well as Elazar Stern echoed Moelem’s demand. Gafni responded: “I never imagined that the wording of the law would be so important that anyone would need to read it first!”
Committee chair of the debate MK Amsallem of Likud, together with MKs from UTJ and Shas, insisted that the debate go forward, but the women MKs were having none of it. They vociferously opposed the bill for being harmful to women.
MK (Yesh Atid) Aliza Lavie pointed out that instead of promoting religious observance, this bill will actually result in violations of religious practice as long as the religious institutions continue to dismiss women’s concerns about the mikveh.
Rachel Azaria (Kulanu), furiously argued that it was unacceptable to reject the legitimate concerns and experiences of women in the mikva when women are the ones who are most affected and who have so much at stake if this bill is passed. She shouted over their interruptions and protestations that they were stripping women of their rights and traditions without hearing women out. Her passionate outburst resulted in her forcible removal from the room.
Throughout these exchanges, Gafni kept repeating his claim that women have nothing to worry about. But his claim that “this law doesn’t affect women at all!” is disingenuous, given that, as a man in the ultra-Orthodox community, he knows full well that married women immerse in the mikveh regularly. How could he claim women would not be affected by the changes his bill makes to the most intimate and feminine space in Judaism?
Indeed, his statement is laughable. To suggest that a law governing use of the mikveh won’t affect women is preposterous. Even to suggest, as he has done, that the bill does nothing more than establish the status quo is problematic; as Moalem pointed out, the status quo isn’t enough. That’s why women have been bringing suits for some time! Moreover, Gafni and several of the other male MKs present appeared to willfully ignore the implications of the bill that the female MKs were very loudly explaining to them.
When after an hour, the actual text of the revised bill was produced for the other MKs, it was immediately clear that the wording had been dramatically altered from the previous version and that Gafni had tried to hide it. MK Michal Rozen (Meretz) left no room for doubt: “I’m looking at both versions of the bill, the old and the new. This is not a revision of the the bill. These are two different bills.”
The legal advisor began reading the new bill aloud and the objections began in earnest. In response, Gafni screamed that it was not the legal advisor’s place to comment on the legality of the bill. He rose from his seat and yelled that it was “none of your business,” and that he was interfering with coalition agreements of which this bill is a part. Then he stormed out.
With Gafni gone and the clock ticking, MK Amsallem finally allowed four non-MKs to speak and learned a bit about what is at stake beyond a coalition agreement — and on whose (naked) backs this legislation tramples.
The first of these four, Keren Hadad Taub of Advot,, explained that most of the people affected by this bill are women, not only because it is women who use the mikveh regularly, but because the overwhelming majority of converts in Israel are female. The male MKs’ were surprised to learn this critical piece of information, the knowledge of which is vital to knowing how the bill will play out in practice. There is no way one can understand the real life implications of a bill without knowing who the bill affects.
“I hope you sleep well at night knowing that women have stopped going to the mikveh because of you,” saidfounder of T’nu Litbol Be-Sheket (LINK), a movement advocating for women’s rights in the mikveh, and secretary general of Yerushalmim party.
Rivka Shimon of Women for the Mikdash also pointed that, “this [bill] prevents women — married and single — from going up to Har Habayit.”
MK Amsallem interrupted her: “Wait, you’re saying that if a single woman shows up to the mikveh to immerse, they will tell her no?” The frustration in the room was palpable as the women answered with an exasperated “YES!”
The Core Issue
Amsallem was one of few male MKs in the room to pay attention to the implications of the bill (newest MK Glick and MK Stern did as well), and that is the crux of the issue. The bill will affect those who use the mikvah most, and not the Conservative and Reform conversions it’s purportedly designed to deter. But the Charedi parties that wrote the bill – for whom Torah observance should be of paramount importance – turn a blind eye to the pleading of the women to be heard and considered. Could it be that they simply do not care? Shouldn’t that be unthinkable? Yet when a high ranking charedi official in the the religious council of Jerusalem was told that, because of this bill, women won’t use the mikveh, he shrugged. “So, they won’t use the mikveh.”
This bill is supposedly about preserving Judaism, safeguarding the Torah, and the Jewish people. But it is not; it does none of those things. Rather, the bill is about power and control — about a coalition deal. The fact that it may result in the suffering of religious and traditional women, who by their very actions are preserving Judaism and safeguarding both Torah and the Jewish people, is of no concern. The women’s suffering and discomfort, the dismissal of their needs is simply collateral damage in the Charedi MKs’ service of a larger cause — their own political clout.
There is nothing new about people sharing vitriol on the internet. Inflammatory language and free-range bigotry seem to be the order of the day, especially when it comes to such charged topics as gender, religion, race or politics. We roll our eyes and click onward.
But what do we do when the person making a particularly nasty display of prejudice holds a position of authority that enables him to directly affect the course of real people’s lives? What happens when words on the screen manifest as policies in real life? And what does it mean for the communities that look to him for leadership?
Recently, Rabbi Steven Pruzansky published a blogpost that was as horrifying as it was logically baffling. In the piece, he argues that rape culture — the ways in which society blames victims of sexual assault and normalizes male sexual violence — does not exist. Instead, he explains, women are simply romantically frustrated liars who invent rape allegations because they’re out of touch with “traditional morality.”
If only women would wait until marriage, stay away from alcohol and just have some self-discipline, he claims, they’d stop getting raped so much. Although, he points out, they’re not actually being raped, as evidenced by the fact that women still attend college. If campus rape statistics were true, he reasons, “no intelligent woman would want to attend college.” This is akin to saying that there cannot be domestic abuse within marriage, because if there were, no woman would be willing to get married. Putting aside the glaring logical fallacy, it seems that in order for Rabbi Pruzansky to take women’s testimony seriously, they should stop surviving so much. He goes on to call rape “unrequited love” and then mocks those who ask for consent as “taking the romance out of romance.”
Going line by line to take apart the absurdity of his arguments, while tempting, has been done and is not the point.
What matters is Rabbi Pruzansky’s position of authority, power, and influence in the Jewish community and how that dangerously takes his views from theoretical to practical. What makes him dangerous is not the misogyny he espouses, but his authority to turn that misogyny into policy, bolstered by the influence he wields with well-respected organizations.
The disclaimer on his blog reads, “The views expressed here are solely my own and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of family, friends, shul, organizations or any other affiliations.” However, Rabbi Pruzansky has written considerably about rabbinic authority and how it confers credibility and power to those who have it. He often cites it in the context of perceived threats to it by those he deems insufficiently authoritative to hold valid views on religious matters, as in the case of allowing women on administrative committees.
But Rabbi Pruzansky can’t have it both ways. He cannot claim that the unique power granted to his opinions by virtue of his position does not carry any responsibility to the institution he serves, or that it suddenly stops carrying weight when it’s inconvenient for him. He cannot enjoy the power — which he claims is highly significant, even in non-rabbinic roles, such as those administrative committees — without accepting responsibility for it.
So how far does that power reach? According to the “About” page on his blog, Rabbi Pruzansky is the rabbi of the largest synagogue in Teaneck NJ, boasting a congregation of about 800 families. He is a trustee of the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA), its former vice president and the chair of its convention; he sits on the board of the Beth Din of America; acts as a dayan (judge of a religious court) on the Beth Din itself; and is a member of the Rabbinical Alliance of America.
When the voice expressing bigotry on the internet belongs to a lawmaker and judge, and not just a random blogger, it goes far beyond hate speech. Dayanim and rabbis wield real control over those who are subject to their rulings and decisions. For example, a dayan’s views on domestic abuse can mean the difference between a woman receiving a chiyuv get (determining that she has the right to a divorce and ordering the husband to grant one) and not.
One of the first things a lawyer or to’enet rabbanit (religious court advocate in Israel) does when approaching a new Beit Din case is check the identities of the dayanim who will hear the case, because their views directly impact the way they rule. We must ensure that those who wield judiciary power in our community adhere to views that are within the range of the norm. A community must feel confident in its dayan’s approach, as it informs his decisions on their financial disputes, divorces, conversions, determining who is Jewish and other high-stakes personal cases.
The RCA is not a neutral structure; it is made up people who act as its agents and determine its character. Does the RCA believe that Rabbi Pruzansky’s views reinforce the kind of character they would like to perpetuate? Is his synagogue proud to have him as their religious and communal representative?
If not, then it’s time for the RCA, Beth Din of America, Rabbinical Alliance of America and his synagogue to look inward and consider ending their affiliation with him. It is time for the larger Jewish community to stop accepting avowed bigots as community leaders.
This is not the first time Rabbi Pruzansky has expressed sexism and hate speech, and it likely won’t be his last. But as long as the next time he voices this kind of drivel to the public, his role is that of private citizen, we’ll be able to — thankfully — roll our eyes and click onward.
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For International Agunah Day, Chochmat Nashim launched a visibility campaign, highlighting agunot and former agunot. We asked these women to take selfies holding signs that note the number of years they were denied a get (Jewish writ of divorce), their location and the hashtag#NoMoreChains. The aim of this campaign is to recognize their first-person narratives as valid, relevant and not shameful. The campaign literally puts faces to the stories and humanizes the statistics. The photos also showcase the diversity of agunot in age, location, religious observance and communal affiliation to underscore the fact that the agunah problem is pervasive in all segments of the Jewish world.
This Agunah Day, we’re shifting the conversation. Let’s recognize that agunot are people with their own experiences, rights and inherent value. Let’s acknowledge that every agunah story is as unique as the person who lives it. Let’s recognize that agunot are entitled to freedom and integrity irrespective of others’ validation of their suffering.
This Agunah Day, about a dozen women are making a very private experience public.
Enough with the noble, silent victim role. Here’s to open conversation, demanding justice as a right–not a favor–and the freedom to take ownership of our own stories.
Read the complete essay about our campaign here: Agunah Day: Stepping Out from Behind the Mask
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A 48-year-old woman goes to see a breast surgeon. She has four lumps in her breasts, a large ulcerated mass and cancer that has spread to her lymph nodes. She says she had not come in earlier because it didn’t seem so important.
A 36-year-old woman sees her dermatologist for an irritated nipple. The doctor palpates a tumor the size of a golf ball and immediately sends her to a breast surgeon. The patient returns to the dermatologist a month later for the same condition. The doctor, shocked to see that she has not had surgery, asks if she had seen the surgeon. The woman says she was concerned about the level of kashrut at the hospital to which she was sent and, upon her rabbi’s advice, was waiting to have surgery at another hospital with stricter kashrut. She dies not long after.
A mother of seven is fully aware that she has a gene that makes it very likely she will contract the cancer that killed her mother and sister. She knows that if she has her breasts and reproductive organs removed, it could save her life. But she refuses. Not because she wants more children, not because she is afraid of surgery, but because she is afraid that if the neighbors find out, it will ruin her daughters’ chances for a shidduch (match). After failing to convince her that she could have the surgery with no one knowing, her doctor puts her in touch with a woman who has had the surgery and reconstruction undetected by her community. She finally agrees.
These stories seem very hard to believe. But imagine that you had heard almost nothing about breast cancer, that it was something not spoken about.
Imagine that you did not know the statistics and had never seen the pink ribbons, heard the calls for self-examinations or witnessed the marathons to raise money for a cure.
Would you know that cancer was lethal? Would you know that early detection was key to survival? Would you understand that talking about it could literally save lives? And even if you did know, suppose you also knew that if anyone was aware you were ill, your daughters’ chances for a good marriage could be significantly lowered (a terrible fate in your community)? Three major studies in the past decade have revealed that haredi women have fewer incidences of breast cancer, but that more of them die from the disease than women in the general population.
Read more in the Jerusalem Post
Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll
