Monday, Oct. 12, 1987

Israel A House Divided

By Thomas A. Sancton

A new battle is raging in the Middle East. It is not the usual Arab-Jewish conflict but instead a Jew-against-Jew struggle to determine the character of Jerusalem -- and by extension, the very nature of the state of Israel. On one side, wearing beards, side curls, long black coats and fur-rimmed hats, are the ultra-Orthodox militants, who want all Israelis to live according to the strict dictates of the halakhah, or religious law. On the other side, constituting the vast majority of the country's 4.3 million citizens, are the secular Jews, who believe Israel should be a modern democracy based on the principles of individual rights, tolerance and pluralism.

In fields ranging from entertainment and sports to education and public transportation, ultra-Orthodox militants, who make up only about 6% of the country's population, are fighting to impose their religious views on the majority. In the face of that onslaught, many non-Orthodox Israelis have responded with anger and resentment. Warns Uriel Reichman, dean of Tel Aviv University law school: "These things only create hatred of religion. For the vast majority of Israelis, their delight in Jewish tradition is being taken away."

The roots of the struggle go back to well before Israel's birth as a modern state in 1948. Many Orthodox Jews opposed the Zionist movement, which, starting in the late 19th century, called for a return to Palestine. For them, ^ there could be no Israeli state until the appearance of the Messiah. In order to overcome such objections to nationhood, David Ben-Gurion, the country's political founder, shaped an agreement with Jewish religious leaders in 1947 that attempted to define the role of religion in Israeli life. That declaration, known as the "status quo," made several key concessions to religious authorities. Among them was a pledge that the traditional Friday- evening-to-Saturday-evening Jewish Sabbath would be Israel's official day of rest. Ever since then, Israelis have been quarreling over the practical implications of the status quo. With the same single-minded tenacity that infuses their Talmudic studies, the religious militants are seeking to transform the agreement's loose principles into a legal web of pro-Orthodox statutes.

The ultra-Orthodox are the strictest observers of Orthodox Judaism, which along with the Conservative and Reform branches is one of the three major Jewish congregations. Known in Hebrew as the haredim (the trembling, or God- fearing, ones), the ultra-Orthodox believe all Jews must live according to the teachings of the Torah and the Talmud, as distilled in the 613 commandments that make up the halakhah. Many commandments concern observance of the Sabbath, which Jewish scholars have traditionally interpreted as prohibiting almost any activity on the holy day. To accommodate those beliefs, Israeli municipal governments have passed numerous Sabbath-keeping ordinances. In Jerusalem, for example, there is no public transportation on that day. All restaurants, except those in Arab East Jerusalem, are closed, and most forms of public entertainment are banned.

On the national level, the Orthodox community plays an important role in Israeli politics through the religious parties, which control a total of twelve seats in the 120-member Knesset. Despite their small numbers, these marginal parties wield a disproportionate share of power. The reason: neither of the country's two main political blocs, Labor and Likud, can command a majority without the swing votes of the smaller groups. The religious parties extracted major political concessions following the 1977 victory of Menachem Begin's conservative Likud bloc, which pumped millions into their religious schools, forbade the state airline El Al to fly on the Sabbath and restricted archaeological excavations wherever they might disturb Jewish graves. Since 1984 the precarious balance of power within the national-unity government has given the religious parties even greater leverage.

Much of the battle has centered on Jerusalem (pop. 475,000), where 25% to 30% of Jews are ultra-Orthodox. That proportion is growing steadily: not only do their families have a birthrate almost four times as high as secular ones, but their ranks are constantly reinforced by the arrival of like-minded immigrants. Increasing numerical strength has stiffened their determination to preserve what they consider the "special character" of Judaism's holiest city.

Nothing better illustrates that resolve than this summer's so-called war on the cinemas. Although city law prohibits the showing of movies on Friday night and Saturday afternoon, it does permit some "cultural" activities. Under that guise, two Jerusalem movie houses three months ago began showing films on Friday evenings preceded by lectures that ostensibly qualified them as cultural events. The ultra-Orthodox were outraged. On Friday nights bearded haredim in black coats angrily confronted moviegoers. On Saturdays the ultras took to the streets in protest, often accompanied by their wives and children. Verbal abuse quickly escalated into fistfights and bloodshed, and police had to break up the weekly clashes with truncheons, tear gas and water cannons. As more movie houses began featuring Friday night films, such as Psycho and Body Heat, secular Jerusalemites flocked to the showings, and the ultras with more demonstrations. After almost twelve weeks of swelling protest, the haredim suddenly switched tactics: black-garbed men in white prayer shawls gathered at 30 Jerusalem intersections to pray for an end to the Sabbath movies. The struggle waned during the High Holy Days, but it is expected to be renewed in coming weeks.

The ultras' tactics have caused increasing resentment among the secular population. A recent editorial in the Hebrew language daily Ha'aretz accused the ultras of claiming "a monopoly over the religion of Moses and Israel" and called on civil authorities to "ensure that Jerusalem be able to remain the capital of Israel for all Jews." The official most responsible for doing that, Mayor Teddy Kollek, has for almost 22 years tried to balance the demands of his secular and Orthodox constituents. While claiming to have "done a lot to let ((the ultras)) live in their own way," he denies charges that he has made too many concessions to them. Warns Kollek: "If the religious win, they will turn Judaism into a narrow sect."

* Possibly the biggest battle of all is shaping up over the definition of who is a Jew. The issue is vital because Jews throughout the world have an automatic right to become Israeli citizens under the Law of Return. While children born of Jewish mothers are automatically Jewish, the ultras argue that converts to Judaism should not be considered Jews unless they were converted according to the halakhah -- effectively excluding those proselytized by Reform or Conservative rabbis.

The question shot to the forefront of national political debate this summer, when Shimon Peres, the Foreign Minister and Labor Party leader, sought early elections over the unrelated issue of an international peace conference on the Middle East. The ultra-Orthodox Shas Party, which has only four Knesset seats, seized the occasion to seek a major concession. In return for supporting Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir's opposition to new elections, Shas demanded that Shamir's Likud bloc back the Orthodox definition of who is a Jew. Shamir tried to ram through a vote to that effect in July, but a handful of Likud members defected and the measure was narrowly defeated. The haredim, however, are likely to continue pressing the issue until they win. If the ultras' position were to prevail, it would provoke widespread anger among U.S. Jews, most of whom belong to Conservative or Reform congregations.

Ultimately, of course, the Israelis themselves will have to resolve the dilemmas rooted in the nation's dual political and religious identity. One mechanism for doing this, suggests Tel Aviv University's Reichman, would be to replace the vague 1947 status quo with a written constitution, which Israel still lacks. Reichman, in fact, heads an independent university group that has drafted a model constitution based on the twin principles of free choice and protection for Israel's Jewish character. Says Reichman: "It is out of the question that individual freedom should be transgressed."

Given the fragmented nature of Israeli politics and the pivotal role of the four religious parties, it is highly unlikely that such a document could be enacted anytime soon. An alternative step might be a reform of the electoral system to allow for more stable parliamentary majorities and reduce the power of marginal parties. Labor politicians are urging such changes, though chances are that Israel will continue to muddle along with its current system. Yet some durable solution must be found if Israel, surrounded as it is by hostile powers, is not to become a house fatally divided against itself.

With reporting by Johanna McGeary/Jerusalem