In my eleven years living in England I often observed, as did
\nmany others, that Anglo-Jewry lacked the vibrancy and innovation
\ncharacteristic of American Judaism. The absence of an electrifying sense
\nof Jewishness and communal dynamism was a subject much discussed among
\nthe Anglo-Jewish leadership. In areas like per capita philanthropy and
\nsocial services, Anglo-Jewry led the world. But in communal programming
\nand affiliation it was hemorrhaging numbers at an alarming rate.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Some
\nsaid that Anglo-Jewry’s relatively small number accounted for fewer
\ntruly original ideas. Others spoke of the natural reticence and
\nlower-key disposition of the English in general and Anglo-Jewry in
\nparticular. <\/p>\n
In truth the principal reason for the stagnant state of Anglo-Jewry
\nrelative to its American counterpart lay elsewhere. Anglo-Jewry is
\nprofoundly hierarchical while American Jewry is profoundly meritocratic.
\nBritain, for example, has a Chief Rabbi who is the community’s titular
\nhead and Ambassador to the wider community while in America a rabbi’s
\nstanding is judged not by any communal appointment or particular title
\nbut by effort and impact alone. The absence of a communal hierarchy
\nmeans that individual Rabbis and communal leaders can innovate and try
\nnew and transformative programming without having to fit into an
\nexisting infrastructure of control or thought.<\/p>\n
In both countries it is interesting to note that its two most
\nsuccessful ideas over the past two decades – Limmud in the UK and
\nBirthright in the United States – originated with activists who were
\nworking outside the main organs of the established community. And that’s
\nbecause giant bureaucracies often stifle originality. But in the UK
\nwhere the bureaucracy affects the most important leaders of all – its
\nspiritual guides – it is extremely challenging for Rabbis to go up
\nagainst the spiritual status quo.<\/p>\n
We see the same problem manifesting itself in Israel where Rabbinical
\ninnovation is strongly limited by the hierarchical demands of an
\nestablished Chief Rabbinate. In effect a Rabbi is made to feel that
\nsomeone is watching over him at all times. Being an impactful leader
\nrequires the freedom to maneuver and innovate. But wherever there is a
\nChief Rabbinate there is strong pressure to fit in and conform. And I
\nonly partially buy the argument that having an orthodox Chief Rabbinate
\nhelps to solidify orthodoxy as the community’s main and established
\ncurrent. In the final analysis, an ossified orthodoxy that retains
\nhegemony by communal fiat will always feel oppressive and invite
\nrebellion, whereas an orthodoxy that is alive and pulsating will rise to
\nthe fore naturally and be embraced organically. In America there is no
\northodox Chief Rabbinate. Yet few would argue that orthodoxy is now the
\ncommunity’s most potent, effective, and vibrant force. And it became
\nthat way without being artificially propped up.<\/p>\n
There is more.<\/p>\n
Having a Chief Rabbi assumes community cohesion in name rather than
\nfact. Whoever, therefore, occupies the position is immediately
\ncompromised by having to be all things to all people. In the United
\nKingdom, the community is bitterly divided between orthodox and
\nnon-orthodox. One of the things I found most distasteful about being an
\northodox Rabbi in the UK were the constraints put on me from working
\npublicly with my conservative and reform brethren on matters of great
\ncommunal concern. In the United States it would be unthinkable for an
\northodox Rabbi to be prevented from working, say, to defend Israel on
\ncampus with his reform counterparts. But in the UK sharing a public
\nplatform with the non-orthodox clergy is sacrilege. This prohibition
\nserved in no small measure to sow unlimited enmity between reform and
\northodox Jews even in areas where there should be clear unity and
\nagreement. The most famous example was when we orthodox Rabbis were
\nprevented from attending the funeral of Rabbi Hugo Gryn, a holocaust
\nsurvivor and Britain’s most celebrated reform Rabbi. Is it not better
\nfor orthodox Rabbis to use halacha, Jewish law, as their guide rather
\nthan rigid communal orthodoxies? And can you imagine any halacha that
\nwould forbid a Rabbi, of all people, from burying another Jew?<\/p>\n
The limitations of having a Chief Rabbinate explains a paradox of
\nBritish Jewry under the leadership of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. On the one
\nhand, Sacks is universally admired as one of the original Jewish
\nthinkers of our time. A gifted communicator in both the written and
\nspoken word, Sacks combines scholarship with a thoroughly modern
\nunderstanding of contemporary events and social currents. Yet, the UK
\ncommunity has stagnated and shriveled under his leadership. Indeed, the
\nparadox of Sacks’ Chief Rabbinate is how, amid Britain being privileged
\nwith arguably the most effective Jewish apologist of our generation,
\nanti-Semitism and anti-Israel sentiment has exploded under his watch as
\nnever before. Some of the highlights include the British High Court
\nruling, unbelievably, that the orthodox community has no right to
\ndetermine whom the members of its own community are, the arrest warrant
\nissued against former Israeli Foreign Minister Tzipi Livni by a British
\ncourt, the decree that produce from the West Bank had to labeled as
\nhaving been grown by Jewish settlers, and the ban by the British
\nacademic establishment of Israeli academics at their conferences. How
\ncould such an outpouring of anti-Jewish emotion erupt under Sacks’? The
\nanswer is that in many of these cases Sacks only tangentially engaged
\nhimself. A Chief Rabbi is a member of the establishment and
\nestablishment figures – seeking respectability above all else – usually
\nseek to avoid confrontation.<\/p>\n
The closest thing America ever had to a Chief Rabbi was Stephen S.
\nWise who chose to be very guarded and tightlipped during the holocaust,
\nshirking from nearly every political confrontation with his close friend
\nFranklin Roosevelt. The Simon Wiesenthal Center has produced a
\nbrilliant documentary about his tragic reticence entitled ‘Against the
\nTide,’ which serves as a moving and cautionary tale of the Jewish
\ncommunity ever concentrating too much power in a single, establishment
\nvoice.\n<\/p>\n
Rabbi Shmuley Boteach is the founder of This World: The Values
\nNetwork and has just published ‘The Blessing of Enough.’ Follow him on
\nTwitter @RabbiShmuley.<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In my eleven years living in England I often observed, as did many others, that Anglo-Jewry lacked the vibrancy and innovation characteristic of American Judaism. The absence of an electrifying sense of Jewishness and communal dynamism was a subject much discussed among the Anglo-Jewish leadership. In areas like per capita philanthropy and social services, Anglo-Jewry…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":203,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-32","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-religion-and-spirituality"],"yoast_head":"\n