The Haskalah
Jeremy Rosen
If you were to ask anybody what the term Haskalah refers to nowadays in Israel, you will be told that Haskalah Gevoha means higher education. But once upon a time, it was a dirty word to some and stood for intellectual freedom to others. Not to be confused with the misnomer term Enlightenment. This was, in practice, a cruel disappointment for Jews in many respects.The Enlightenment brought about significant changes in the European world by challenging the authority of the Catholic Church. And reducing the grip of the aristocracies on political power and privilege. This was a time when Jews began in some areas to break out of the ghettos in significant numbers, to move into central Europe and claim rights instead of privileges. And they began to campaign for citizenship. But men like Voltaire, admired as the symbol of egalitarianism and rights, was himself an anti-Semite.
The first significant signs of change came from Oliver Cromwell’s tacit acceptance of Jewish immigration. Giving Jews equal rights began in Britain with the Jew Bill in 1753. Even though it passed Parliament and was signed by the King, it was withdrawn due to public outcry. Napoleon was the first to give Jews civil rights wherever he conquered other states, and he insisted that they do the same. Though he added that this was a recognition of individual Jews having rights, but not recognising Judaism. He hoped for complete assimilation. Anyway, after his defeat, his enemies withdrew all his legislation on this issue. But by the middle of the nineteenth century, Jews gained equality in America and many European countries and took full advantage to migrate and assimilate. But as Herzl discovered at the Dreyfus trials in France, this did nothing to stop virulent antisemitism.
It was Moses Mendelssohn (1729-1786) who was (perhaps unfairly) regarded as the founder of Haskalah, the attempt to combine the Jewish religion and its scholarship with the secular culture and scientific advances. Mendelssohn was given permission to settle in Berlin, where he came into contact with non-Jewish scholarship. His brilliant philosophical mind soon led to his acceptance into the German cultural elite. He saw the danger of Jews moving out of the ghetto to assimilate. He believed that by translating the Torah into German, the danger could be averted and argued that Judaism did not conflict with modern states. It is worth reading his book Jerusalem: Or on religious power and Judaism. In it, he claimed that Jews were not a threat to established societies and religions and should be granted equality beyond state rule. Sadly, although he remained completely orthodox himself, within a generation all his children married out and abandoned Judaism. Which, at the time, seemed to negate his position. But his position found support and admirers in much of Central Europe, even in rabbinic circles.
Back in Eastern Europe and Russia, the leaders of the Jewish world saw this trend of accepting and studying secular subjects as a threat to their Jewish life. When Napoleon attacked Russia, many rabbis, particularly Chassidim (notably the head of Chabad at the time), sided with the anti-semitic Czar against Napoleon because they feared that if he brought equality to the Jews, many would abandon Judaism altogether. And that loosening restrictions in Central and Western Europe was leading to assimilation. In particular, the Chasidic movement feared that any secular knowledge or instruction would only lead to disaster. A fear that still persists to this day.
In general, this era was described as a Kulturkampf (Culture War) between the old and the new. And either way, Jews were seen as outsiders. This, of course, was why Herzl believed that Jews would always be alien and only a Jewish State could solve the Jewish Problem. Within the Jewish world, the desire for wider knowledge, in the realms of medicine, mathematics and philosophy, had always been encouraged by great rabbinic authorities from Maimonides to the Vilna Gaon and later authorities. But not for mass consumption.
This movement to open up to the cultural world became known as the Haskalah. With rival camps supporting their own systems of education, language, literature, drama and ideology. But it often turned into an anti-religious mindset.
Even so, prominent rabbis such as Rabbi Shimshon Refael Hirsch (1808-1888) and his successor, Rabbi Azriel Hildesheimer (1820-1899), supported combining Jewish education and scholarship. Hildesheimer set up the first yeshiva combining both areas of study and the first Orthodox Rabbinical Seminary. At the same time, the Reform movement began in Germany and headed in a different direction.
The Haskalah effectively divided Jewish life into trivial camps with inevitable tension and conflict. Initially, Haskalah was an issue of emphasis. But it became one of lifestyle with the emergence of Jewish schools ready to go beyond the traditional curriculum and, in some cases, ideologically break away entirely from the constraints of religion. The rivalry between rabbis of different persuasions, for the first time, split Jewish communities fundamentally.
In the past, if you wanted to abandon Judaism, your only option was to become a Christian or a Muslim. Now, for the first time, there was a third option. The cohesion forced on the Jewish people since the Roman exile began to fragment. Secular Judaism is strong and manifest in Israel. And on the other hand, the haredi world has doubled down on its separatism as the only way to combat the attraction of Western civilisation.
In Russia, opposition to the Czar’s antisemitism also divided the Jewish communities. Some became socialists because they saw the Jewish problem as the only solution. And that was when the concept of political Zionism emerged, both as a reaction against anti-Semitism but also against the restrictions of religion.
Today, there are other factions. Religious Zionism, nationalist orthodoxy known as Chardl ( Charedi Leumi) has emerged as a third force that tries to balance the extremes and yet in itself it has fragmented into those who follow an extreme Zionism represented by Kahana and his followers, and those who are passionately committed to the idea of a Jewish state but distance themselves from the racism that manifests itself on the West Bank. And what is called Modern or Open Orthodoxy still adheres to the dream of combining the two worlds that originally generated the Haskalah.
I conclude from all this that trying to be who we are, separate and distinct in whichever way, enables us to move in and out of almost any other society. And draw on the best and reject the worst of surrounding cultures. We face constant challenges from the outside and within. Nothing reflects this more clearly than the history of Haskalah. I can only conclude that this division can be regarded as creative, forcing us to cope with different challenges and to examine our own lives and our own relationship with Judaism.
Rabbi Jeremy Rosen lives in New York. He was born in Manchester. His writings are concerned with religion, culture, history and current affairs – anything he finds interesting or relevant. They are designed to entertain and to stimulate. Disagreement is always welcome.
