The Rabbi's Message: The Burden of Being Chosen

We continue our cooperation with the Rabbi Adin Even-Israel Steinsaltz Institute and publish material specially prepared for the member communities of the EAJC.

Dear readers, this article is published after the passing of the great thinker of a generation, scholar and Hasid, Rabbi Steinsaltz, of blessed memory.  There is no doubt that we will continue to realize and discover the scale of this loss and the magnitude of his personality for many years to come. 

Leah Shvets – Head of the Russian-speaking Department of the Steinsaltz Center

The problem of the relationship between the people of Israel and other nations cannot be reduced merely to questions of status or antisemitism. First and foremost, it is an internal matter, linked to defining one's place within the family of nations and seeking the meaning of Jewish isolation throughout the ages.

It can be said that for Jews, the outside world acts as a mirror, and Israel has spent centuries gazing at its reflection, learning something new about itself. The mirror reflecting the Jewish people is often distorted, presenting a caricature. Yet even these distortions are not accidental; therefore, the question of Israel's place among the nations is our own problem, not that of those around us.

As I have noted on multiple occasions, antisemitism is inherently ambivalent. In other words, hostility, demonstrations of contempt, and disregard are only one side of the coin. After all, that which is deemed insignificant, lacking importance or potential, is simply ignored; it is neither thought of nor spoken about.

This duality is most apparent among the adherents of monotheistic religions. Christianity and Islam did not merely emerge and develop from Judaism, but are conceptually linked to it, as they acknowledge the primary chosenness of the people of Israel. Although their adoption of Judaic concepts is fragmented and inconsistent, their derivative nature is undeniable. Both religions recognize the primary calling of the Jewish people and that Revelation was received through them. Thus, on the one hand, they base themselves on and draw support from the Jewish religious tradition; on the other hand, precisely because they branched off from Judaism, they are forced to deny it, diminishing its image and significance in the present, despite being unable to nullify its primary value in the past. Living Jews and the continuous existence of Judaism represent a genuine soreness for monotheistic faiths.

Paradoxically, antagonism and hostility can be interpreted as an expression of unfulfilled love and status, as a frustration that Jews still exist. Had they disappeared in due time, they would be perceived entirely differently—as an object of adoration and gratitude. But there is a catch: we are still alive! And any unfulfilled love generates a charge of hostility at least equal in strength to its potential.

The self-esteem of a nation is similar to that of an individual: it forgives its own shortcomings and extols its real and imagined virtues, considering itself superior to all others. This becomes a source of hostility from others only when they find grounds to believe that such claims are justified. He who claims chosenness may become an object of ridicule; he who is suspected of chosenness becomes an object of hatred.

This is why any negative trait of Jews (and in this context, it does not matter whether it is real or fabricated) is perceived so painfully and in such an exaggerated manner, and why the reaction to their actions is so sharp. A Jew who steals or lies attracts heightened attention not only due to prior hostility toward him, but also because of high expectations, as there is a latent and even exaggerated respect for his qualities and virtues. The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment.

There is a phenomenon of automatic adjustment in perception. If a certain people is considered barbaric, inferior, or wild, then any positive trait not expected of them is viewed as an achievement, a virtue. Any kind deed is extolled as a feat; that which is not outright base is already considered good. Any action that in any other case would be perceived as normal will be rated as an extraordinary achievement when performed by such a nation.

Those whose chosenness is taken seriously are treated in the opposite manner. This double-standard phenomenon is clearly manifested in the attitude toward the modern State of Israel: it is criticized and accused for any action that would be perceived as normative for any other country. Pointing out the antisemitism of the world is merely a superficial view of the situation. True understanding lies in recognizing that on a conscious or subconscious level, far more than the norm is expected of the Jew and the Jewish people. Jews are expected not to be normal, but to be the best. Hence the heightened criticality of perception.

The special attitude toward Jews also has another aspect, which has an explanation that is not theological at all. For the past two thousand years, the majority of Jews have resided among other nations as a national minority. And any minority, in one way or another, suffers from xenophobia.  Both as individuals and as a community, Jews have been more vulnerable to any form of aggression. Usually, minorities living in a foreign land have a homeland somewhere to rely upon, which provides them with a certain status. Granted, this homeland often lacks the power to protect them from hatred and persecution, or it may be too distant, or internal problems may prevent it from safeguarding its citizens abroad. However, the deterrent effect of the fear of retribution often protected minorities from the excesses of their adversaries. Jews had no such anchor, which is why they were always more vulnerable than other nations.

Another aspect is the separateness of Jews and the fact that they differ too much from others. They are perceived as strangers and outsiders even in countries where they have lived for millennia. It is therefore not surprising that for all the problems and disasters occurring in a given place, the Jews were blamed first. The true underlying motive was, and remains, the natural desire of people to find someone to blame for their misfortunes—someone who is not one of "us." Naturally, there were also rational reasons for hating Jews. A debtor does not favor his creditor, poor neighbors dislike a successful neighbor, and a failure cannot tolerate someone who serves as a living indictment of his own inadequacy. However, all of this is secondary to the two factors mentioned above that turned the omnipresent Jews into an easy target: their foreignness and their defenselessness.

Precisely because of this, they became the most sensitive instrument for measuring internal processes in the countries where they reside. Just as a highly sensitive device registers sound earlier than other, poorly tuned instruments, so do Jews suffer from the problems and misfortunes of the world earlier and more severely than other nations. Furthermore, the persecution of Jews is a symptom of a systemic disease within the state organism. We have already explained why they are the first to suffer, yet the root of the problem is not antisemitism, but the crisis afflicting their host country. This is unlikely to be realized by the rioters or their instigators. They may be genuinely convinced of their righteousness, but this does not alter the reality: wherever Jews are persecuted and accused, the country is gravely ill. Hatred of Jews is merely a primary, overt symptom, nothing more. Sometimes the true cause of another surge in anti-Jewish sentiment is obvious, at other times it is difficult to determine, making it outwardly appear as an independent problem. But this is only an illusion; sometimes time is needed for it to become apparent.

When historical processes are viewed from this perspective, such a phenomenon can be observed in numerous instances, and not necessarily as direct cause-and-effect relationships. The expulsion of Jews or their mass exodus from once great superpowers and major states, accompanied by a sharp decline in status and pogroms, is inevitably followed by a general decline. Even without entering into theological questions of retribution, it is easy to find a correlation between socio-economic processes of decline and antisemitic excesses.

The reverse is also observable: England's decision to allow Jews back into its territory was linked to its general rise. Here too, one does not necessarily have to see a direct cause-and-effect relationship and assert that it was indeed the Jews who strengthened the state. Rather, the same processes that paved the way for the greatness of the British Empire opened its doors to Jews. Similarly, the rise of the political significance of the USA and the growth of its economic power were accompanied by an unprecedented influx of Jewish immigration. One may debate the role of Jews in its development, but the connection between these processes is undeniable.

Thus, the position of Jews in the world is a sensitive barometer of the situation in their countries of residence. The more they are hated and persecuted, the more serious the problems of that country are. These can be entirely material and practical, such as economic crises, wars, etc., but they can also be more subtle, such as isolationism, loss of initiative, the closed nature of society, ideological or religious dictation... The consequences of this will first and foremost affect the position of the Jews, and later, in a more explicit and general form, everyone else. In the words of the prophet Isaiah (Chapter 53), the bruised, humiliated, and suffering servant of the Lord bears the infirmities of others: the sicker they are, the greater his suffering.

The spiritual service of the sufferer, and how much he is elevated and purified by suffering, is a separate matter. But everything he can do to improve his own situation has a beneficial effect and influence on others. This is not about the calling of the people of Israel to be a "light unto the nations," or to be a leader for them. The meaning of their existence does not lie in the role they perform for others; their primary duty is to be themselves. The healthier, stronger, and more elevated they are, the more benefit they bring to all of humanity. The surrounding nations might realize that they ought to assist and support them in every possible way. A burning torch shines not because it sees this as its calling: it simply burns—it is the only mode of self-expression available to it—yet that is precisely why it provides light to those around it.