
The annual ritual of summer vacation has often involved light reading to accompany one to the beach or the pool. Summer reading was intended to be like the summer itself, easy fun.
Well, as with so many things, times have changed.
First of all, for those of us nearing our dotage, spending too much time outside in 90 degree plus Fahrenheit weather is not a good longevity move.
In addition, lightness has seemed to become a distant memory. We are awash with concerns, woes, and questions that we despair of being answered.
In that spirit I would like to suggest that we maintain the reading part but recognize that having that reading be relevant and even hopefully impactful should be the prescription for this year’s summer repast.
Here are a few books that I have read this summer and which I would strongly recommend to you, regardless of which season you pick them up.
“Rogue Justice: The Rise of Judicial Supremacy in Israel," by Yonatan Green. A lengthy, detailed but nonetheless searing, jaw dropping at times indictment and analysis of the 30 plus year migration of the Israel Supreme Court, led by Chief Justice Aharon Barak to judicial supremacy. Green details the judicial decisions and the underlying rationales that morphed the High Court from recognizing the supremacy of the elected representatives of the People, the Knesset, to the willingness to strike down Basic Laws, which the Court itself had pronounced as the Constitution of the State Israel.
In other words, the journey to declaring pieces of the Constitution to be unconstitutional.
This book is not a rationale nor an apology for the judicial reform protests of 2023. However, it shines tremendous light on why there were such protests and what impelled them.
Judicial reform is not a moot issue by any means, and Rogue Justice provides great context for understanding the depth of the problem and the critical need to address it.
“Western Self-Contempt, Oikophobia in the Decline of Civilizations" by Benedict Beckeld. Beckeld focuses on the phenomenon of oikophobia, the hatred of one’s own. As its Greek name denotes, the self-destructive impulse to disparage, demean and to denigrate one’s own culture or society finds its roots in ancient Greece, and has been a powerful force in the implosion of great civilizations.
Beckeld finds that self-contempt takes root not when societies are weakened and riven by partisanship, but, counterintuitively, when societies are at their most successful. Time and again it is precisely when things are going well that self-loathing finds its way into the cultural discourse. The phenomenon of cultural relativism has been a singularly toxic and historically common force that undermines the conviction that one’s own society is worth extolling, let alone defending.
It is impossible to read this book and not to see the phenomenon playing out once again throughout the West. Beckeld does not leave that to the reader’s imagination, but rather delineates the oikophobia and its driving forces in France, Britain and the United States.
The loosening of religious ties is part of this decline, as is the sense that there is little to worry about in terms of the ongoing viability of the society.
In these regards Israel might be doubly fortunate: religious consciousness and observance is on the rise, and counterintuitively, the persistence of the hatred of external enemies has shocked us into greater societal vigilance.
“Jews vs. Rome: Two Centuries of Rebellion against the World’s Mightiest Empire," by Barry Strauss. A detailed, erudite but eminently readable history of the ongoing love/hate, mostly hate relationship between the Jews of the Land of Israel and the Roman Empire. There is some very interesting perspective about what drove the Roman attitude, disposition and actions vis a vis the Jews, most of which was rooted in larger geopolitical concerns but which, apropos of the British during the Mandate period, also had a “personal" animus in it.
What I found to be particularly fascinating were the attitudes and actions of the Jews. While we know of the Hellenization and subsequently the Romanization of many of the Jews in Eretz Yisrael, we have perhaps less appreciation for the intense religious conviction of so much of the Jewish People. This cleaving to religious beliefs and traditions impelled constant rebellion, warfare, and yet also supplication and the willingness to be diplomatic in maintaining as much autonomy as could be obtained.
The plight of our brethren in the two centuries that began some 130 years before the sacking of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple shines a light on the great disparity between us then and now, and that disparity is sovereignty.
Bur for a brief period after the Maccabees’ victory over the Selucid Greeks, the Jewish polity was never sovereign, but owed its fealty and obedience to Rome.
In short, the history of this time is a profound and unvarnished paean to Zionism and to the blessings of Israeli sovereignty and self determination.
And finally, I would mention that I might be one of the very few this summer who read the “Odyssey" without first (or still for that matter) having seen the movie. My interest was therefore not to compare the cinematic portrayal of Odysseus with his Homeric rendering, but to reacquaint myself with one of the foundational works of Western Civilization.
What was clear was the mental acuity and the physical courage of Odysseus, despite or perhaps because of the 20 years of his exilic sojourns away from home. Odysseus is about as woke as Itamar Ben Gvir, and he is a master politician. Of course it helps him tremendously to be beloved by Minerva (Athena) who steps in time and again to rescue him.
What struck me was the religiosity of the book and its characters. There is an intimate awareness and relationship with the Greek gods and, dare I say, a very Jewish sense of the involvement of the divine in the day to day life and sensibilities of humans. There were parts of the book where I imagined excising Zeus or other gods in exchange for Hashem. In doing so I saw a world intimately related to the Homeric vision of the divine, a vision, ironically, not so far from our own.
Whichever ones you gravitate to, happy reading. And by the way, a Kindle is probably easier to bring to the beach.
Douglas Altabef is the author is the Chairman of the Board of Im Tirtzu and a Director of the Israel Independence Fund