Real Jewish Unity

We celebrate Jewish unity - but which kind of unity is good, and which is dangerous?

This was originally published in December, 2023. It relates to this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Korach, and I believe that its message is as relevant now as it was 18 months ago.

---

We all want the Jewish people to be unified. But… why?

Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik zt”l suggests that Jewish ethics is predicated upon the idea of walking in God’s ways - vehalachta bi’drachav (Devarim 28:9). In fact, the primary reason that the Torah teaches about God’s attributes is in order to establish normative requirements. God is merciful, so we must be merciful; God is gracious, so we must be gracious. God is a creator, so we must be creators; and God is one - so we, too, must be one.

The importance of our emulating God’s unity is expressed beautifully in Masechet Berachot 6a, where the Talmud suggests that God, like man, wears tefillin - and as our tefillin contain the verse, “Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One,” God’s tefillin carry the line, “Who is like Your people Israel, a unified nation on earth?”

This was also reflected in the Torah reading in Parashat Vayigash. Jacob’s progeny who descended to Egypt are described as seventy “soul” - in the singular (Bereshit 46:27) - whereas the six members of Esau’s family are called “souls” (Bereshit 36:6). Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch argues that the distinction demonstrates that the children of Jacob, unlike Esau’s family, had a common purpose which united them into a single entity.

Yet unity alone is not necessarily a desideratum. Only twenty verses after the description of Israel as a single soul, the Torah relates that the Egyptian populace, unable to pay for the grain they needed to survive, sold themselves and their land to Pharaoh, thus creating a totalitarian society owned entirely by the king of Egypt. Whatever Joseph’s motivations, the result was a dictatorship where, not long after, the Israelites were enslaved by a proto-fascist government. Similarly, the story of the Tower of Babel demonstrates that unity of thought and action - “And the whole world was of one language and one speech” (Bereshit 11:1) - establishes a society where dissent is impossible and individual thought is quashed. Unity, in Egypt and Babel, led to disaster that was only reversed through divine intervention.

When is unity a value, and when is unity a danger?

The answer is apparent in Mishnah Avot 5:20, where we are taught:

Any argument which is for the sake of heaven - it is destined to last, whereas if it is not for the sake of heaven - it is not destined to last. What is an argument which is for the sake of heaven? This is the argument of Hillel and Shammai. And not for the sake of heaven? This is the argument of Korach and his congregation.

Two anomalies are immediately apparent, one conceptual, and one textual. The conceptual problem is that the mishnah asserts that an argument for the sake of heaven - that is, an unselfish argument between people trying to discern the truth - will last permanently. Typically, we think that we should overcome disagreements, ultimately discovering a conclusion which puts the argument to bed. Chazal, however, say the opposite: that an unselfish argument will never be resolved, whereas a selfish argument will achieve eventual closure.

The textual anomaly is that the two clauses of the mishnah are not parallel: while an argument for the sake of heaven is typified by the disagreements between Hillel and Shammai, the argument not for the sake of heaven is represented by Korach and his congregation… without the mishnah explaining against whom they were arguing.

These two anomalies are the keys to understanding the difference between the positive unity of Jacob and his family, and the negative unity exemplified by Egypt and Babel. The members of the House of Hillel argued vociferously with the House of Shammai, while fully admitting that their opponents were nonetheless reading the sources fairly, objectively, and without personal biases. Disagreement of this sort acknowledges the humanity and selfless motivations of one’s opponent, while simultaneously believing in the rightness of one’s own position. These disagreements are not resolved, nor should they be; the persistence of disagreement helps us sharpen, alter, or even reverse our own position, while also providing insight into the multifaceted complexity of our imperfect world. Of course, as a matter of practical implementation, one side must emerge as the victor; but acting according to the dictates of one opinion does not make a dissenting opinion disappear - nor should it. Intellectual richness is a consequence of nuanced understanding of complicated issues, and this may only occur if those with whom we disagree are given a fair hearing.

In contrast, the vilification of an intellectual opponent, or the claim that his opinion is not even worth hearing, or the determination that he has no right to his opinion at all, leads to mandatory groupthink, a fear of new ideas, and shallow beliefs that, because of their fragility, are ultimately defended with the sword rather than with argumentation. When an intellectual adversary is dehumanized and his opinions made to disappear, both sides are diminished and society itself steps closer to oblivion.

Hillel and Shammai argued while acknowledging each other’s honesty and positive motivations. They had the same goal - to make the Torah great and glorious - while disagreeing about the best way to achieve it. Jewish law follows the House of Hillel, but the continued presence of the House of Shammai contributes to the depth and subtlety of Halachic discourse. This is an argument for the sake of heaven that contributes to unity, and which should never be “resolved” in such a way that one side disappears. This is the unity of Jacob and his family, all of whom marched toward the same goal, each one doing so in an individual and distinct manner.

Unlike Hillel and Shammai, Korach refused to talk to Moshe in order to resolve their differences (Bamidbar 16:12). From his perspective, there was only one side of the argument; his opponent effectively did not exist. An argument of this kind is not a true argument, but a selfish and arrogant assertion that lacks any semblance of self-reflection, and adds nothing to society’s larger conversation. In contrast to an argument for the sake of heaven, where both sides contribute to a deeper understanding of the issues at hand, Korach’s argument benefited no one but himself; society is better off when this argument is no longer on the table.

In spite of what I wrote above, I certainly acknowledge that there are some arguments in which one side should be absolutely rejected, rather than being treated with the respect that we normally accord those with whom we disagree. Should a Nazi or Hamas supporter claim that the world would be better off without Israel or the Jewish people, we need not engage him in respectful disputation; his ideas embody a fundamental evil, and should be rejected forthwith. But if a person’s normal method of argumentation includes the vilification and absolute rejection of an opponent as a matter of course, he is falling into the trap of Korach and those whose arguments are distinctly not for the sake of heaven.

Thus, the unity of Jacob and his family - the unity that is an aspect of imitatio Dei - is created when we internalize that we all seek the same overarching goals and all have the good of Am Yisrael in mind, even as we likely disagree with each other about the best way to achieve the goals that we desire. Unity may also be the result of a refusal to countenance differences and insisting that disagreements be submerged - but this is the unity of Babel and Egypt, not the unity of Israel.

In the eleven weeks since October 7th, we have experienced a tremendous sense of unity among almost all Jews, both in Israel and abroad. Particularly after the painful societal division that preceded Hamas’s vile attack, our unified front has been extremely welcome.

But I fear that we sometimes forget that while the unity of Hillel and Shammai is a societal balm, that of Korach and his congregation is dangerous. And if we’re not careful, we risk stifling dissent in the name of a nebulous and facile unity.

I have written several short articles and released a podcast that argued that the time has come for the ultra-Orthodox community to participate in the military draft. Numerous individuals commented, some strongly disagreeing with my suggestions. I benefited from many of these communications, and while I have not changed my opinion, these fair-minded critiques have forced me to sharpen my reasoning and deepen my understanding. Some, however, have criticized not the content of my ideas, but the fact that I expressed them at all. I was told that, for the sake of unity, divisive ideas must be shelved for now, regardless of whether they are correct.

I know that those who recommend that we remain silent for the sake of communal peace mean well. I also believe that they are mistaken in their understanding of what unity should be. Expressing disagreement, accompanied by the assumption that most of us are driven by a desire to help the Jewish people, does not undermine unity; it is, rather, of its essence.

We need to celebrate and enhance our newfound unity. The best way to do so is by emulating Hillel and Shammai, whose arguments remain and echo into eternity.

If you’ve been enjoying what you read here and want to see Orthodox Conundrum Commentary grow - with more posts, additional writers, and a greater range of topics - I’d love for you to consider becoming a paid subscriber. It’s a small way to say, “I want more of this,” and it makes a big difference. Thank you!