Rabbi Shlomo Aviner is Head of Yeshivat Ateret Yerushalayim in the Old City of Jerusalem.
In the Book of BaMidbar we meet many complainers. Korach was a complainer too. He complained about the leadership of Moshe. Also today there are many complainers. One complaint which we still hear from certain quarters is that the State of Israel is not holy enough. The army isn’t holy enough. Because of this, these modern-day complainers refuse to play an active role in the rebuilding of the nation.
It is true that the founders of the State were not motivated by the idea of fulfilling a mitzvah. It is true that it is far preferable to fulfill mitzvot out of a desire to perform G-d’s will, but a mitzvah which is done without this intent is still considered a mitzvah.
In truth, there are many things amiss within the State of Israel that require attention, such as in the fields of justice, education, military service, and so forth. Do not these flaws thus negate the value of a Jewish State? Isn’t the State supposed to be the foundation of “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation?” Don’t the spiritual shortcomings we see in Eretz Yisrael delegitimize the existence of the State?
This common misconception has to be corrected. The sanctity of the State does not derive from the fact that it is the means to a spiritual goal. No justification is necessary for the existence of the State; its sanctity derives from its very existence which is the fulfillment of the mitzvah of establishing a sovereign Jewish State in Eretz Yisrael. Performance of any mitzvah has sanctity, no matter what happens in its aftermath.
For example, we fulfill the mitzvah to “be fruitful and multiply” when we marry and have children. Even if our children grow up to be bad people (G-d forbid), this does not in any way invalidate the mitzvah we have fulfilled. Perhaps we have failed in the mitzvah of educating them, but we have still fulfilled the mitzvah of giving life.
It is our obligation to fulfill every mitzvah we can, without indulging in convoluted calculations regarding the possible outcomes of our actions. The very act of fulfilling a mitzvah contains its own sanctity because our Creator “has sanctified us with His mitzvot.”
Consider the following parable: A person erects a sukkah, only to tell lies and lashon hara in it all day long. These actions are serious transgressions, but they in no way invalidate his sukkah. This person has fulfilled the mitzvah of sitting in the sukkah, while incidentally sinning in his speech.
The mitzvah of Eretz Yisrael can be compared in many ways to the mitzvah of sukkah: “And His sukkah was in Shalem, and His dwelling place in Zion” (Tehillim 76:3).
The sanctity of the State is expressed through the sovereign control of Eretz Yisrael by Am Yisrael, with the help of the Israeli army. The existence of the State, in and of itself, is a mitzvah, and transgressions performed within it do not invalidate its sanctity.
It is obvious that fulfilling the mitzvah of sitting in the sukkah does not in any way sanction any transgressions committed there. In the same way, one is not permitted to transgress a commandment by virtue of the fact that one lives in Eretz Yisrael. Conversely, sins committed in Eretz Yisrael cannot invalidate the sanctity of the State, just as talking lashon hara in a sukkah cannot nullify the mitzvah of sitting in the sukkah. It is a despicable act, but the person has still, nonetheless, fulfilled the mitzvah of sitting in the sukkah.
In truth, the spiritual problems we see today in Eretz Yisrael have nothing to do with the establishment of the State. About 200 years ago, for various reasons which we cannot go into here, there was a universal religious and moral upheaval that affected Judaism as well. The founders of the State, and the waves of immigration that followed, brought these spiritual crises and difficulties with them. The State did not cause them, nor is it responsible for their continued existence within its framework.
The same spiritual regression, to a much greater extent, exists in the Diaspora. There, the result is assimilation, whereas here, in the Jewish State, it is possible to overcome the crises and resolve the problems. Saying, “It would be better not to have the State if this is what it looks like,” is like saying to someone eating non-kosher food in a sukkah, “You would be better off not sitting in the sukkah if you’re going to eat non-kosher food.” Outside the sukkah, he would certainly be eating non-kosher food! It has no connection to the sukkah. On the contrary, perhaps in time, the sanctity of the sukkah will influence him to stop eating non-kosher food.
The prophet Yechezkel said in G-d’s name, “I shall bring you to your land…and I shall sprinkle you with pure waters…and I shall remove your heart of stone and I shall give you a heart of flesh.”¹ Who are those who immigrated to Eretz Yisrael and built our State? Impure people with hearts of stone, but here, in Eretz Yisrael, they shall be perfected. This will not happen instantaneously.
The crisis which began several hundred years ago caused deep wounds. We have not yet succeeded in creating the tools to educate this new secular personality towards faith in G-d. Moreover, many of us don’t even understand what happened and what the roots of this spiritual crisis are. It may take many years to repair the damage, maybe even as long as the crisis has lasted. In any case, not only is the establishment of the State not the cause of this crisis, it may even be part of the solution.
THESE ARE THE PANGS OF BIRTH
Zionism is at its very beginning. We find ourselves at the start of the Redemption, or perhaps the middle of it, certainly not at its end. We have always known that the Redemption would come gradually, one stage at a time. The Talmud Yerushalmi recounts that several Sages were once watching a sunrise. Said one, “Such is Israel’s Redemption, bit by bit” (Jerusalem Talmud, Berachot 1:1). The light doesn’t flood the world all at once. Rather, light and dark are at first mixed, struggling with each other, until finally light is victorious.
Each side seeks the good of the nation; each thinks it is saving the country and that the other is destroying it. Precisely when the conflict is so great, we must remember that we are one people. The Maharal of Prague, at the beginning of his book Netzach Yisrael, contrasts the natural, healthy situation of a people - that is, a situation of Redemption - with the unhealthy, unnatural state of exile. In exile, we are scattered, lacking independence and a homeland. In Redemption, we are together, independent, and in our own Land. Bringing the nation together, in other words, is the essence of Redemption. For that reason, when the Israeli Declaration of Independence was signed by representatives of the left and the right, the Orthodox and the secular, it was a vital stage in the rebirth of the nation.
Today as well, everyone has the right and obligation to stand up for his or her views, but without crossing crucial lines - without violence, hatred or disrespect. This isn’t the first time our people has been torn between opposing opinions. Just as there is friction between religious Zionists versus post-Zionists, there once was a bitter conflict of the Haganah versus the Irgun.. There is room for debate between opposing beliefs - as long as we remember that we are brothers. We must do our utmost to increase the sense of brotherhood in our Land.
Our nation has aspired to great heights, and, through its determination and Divine Assistance, it has achieved great successes. Beneath the external difficulties and despair, we believe there is a tremendous holiness which will overcome all flaws. Beneath the scorn of religion lies hidden faith; beneath the disdain for the secular lies brotherhood; beneath the darkness is a great light which will eventually drive away all the shadows.
Avraham Yitzchak Kook once said to a visitor from America, “You have to make aliyah. Can’t you see how terribly dark the situation is for Judaism in your country?” The visitor replied, “And in Eretz Yisrael there are no crises?!” Rabbi Kook replied, “Certainly there are, but your crises are death throes; ours are the pangs of birth.”
[Translated by Rabbi Mordechai Tzion.]