Today, we went to the ultra-orthodox area of Jerusalem, Mea Shearim, and we explored both the marketplace as well as the streets themselves. By ultra-orthodox, I mean to say haredi, which is defined by Raysh Weiss on My Jewish Learning as a catch-all term to describe highly religious Jews, who typically dress in black hats and suits, and live their lives in extremely strict observance to the written and oral laws (namely, the Torah and the Talmud). Mea Shearim is an exclusively haredi neighbourhood, where religious Jews live secluded from the rest of Israeli society. In order to discuss what it felt like walking through this extremely religious neighbourhood, I must first turn to the readings in order to better contextualise my own individual experience.
The first article we read was Tovi Fenster’s “Bodies and Places in Jerusalem”. Although the article also examined Palestinian East Jerusalem and public spaces within Jerusalem, the most relevant part of the article dealt with women’s perceptions and reactions to Mea Shearim. Specifically, women in Mea Shearim must abide by a modest dress code in accordance with the Talmud, which conceives of women’s bodies as sinful temptations that distract from the higher pursuit of Torah. Moreover, women who do not conform to this ultra-orthodox standard – even those who may not be aware upon stepping into this neighbourhood – are typically victimised. Indeed, Fenster writes that women who do not follow the conventions of dress and modesty often suffer both verbal as well as physical abuse, as men will often throw tomatoes and curse at them. In the article, the author looks at women’s discomfort in Mea Shearim, which arises from their lack of agency and individual expression, through the lens of urban policies. Indeed, Fenster emphasises that despite the illegality of the numerous signs entreating women to dress decently, not being sanctioned by the state, police generally turn a blind eye to most legal issues within this highly religious neighbourhood. This lack of police enforcement leads to a strong sense of displacement and a discomfort for secular women passing through Mea Shearim.
While I felt somewhat more comfortable as a male in this neighbourhood, and I knew that our group was dressed modestly, I could understand why women might feel uncomfortable being in Mea Shearim. While my primary complaint with the marketplace was how busy it was – after all, it was just hours before Shabbat – walking through the heart of the neighbourhood was nonetheless far from a pleasant experience for me. I think it was clear to both the males and females in the group just how unwanted we were there, though we did our best not to disturb the haredi in their pre-Shabbat activity. Although I knew it was a possibility, I was still quite shocked to hear small children cursing out their windows, addressing us as “shiksas”. In North America, the word shiksa, referring to a non-Jewish woman, can sometimes be employed in a lighthearted manner. In this context though, I recognised its much more sinister and cruel origins, since it was clear that these people were not jokingly referring to anyone as “shiksa goddesses”, but were insulting us (and in particular, the women).
Beyond my personal discomfort being in this stringent haredi environment (which could take up more than one blog post!), the experience was illuminating on a couple of levels. I had known beforehand that a number of religious Jews were opposed to the modern state of Israel, which was established through political rather than messianic and eschatological means. However, seeing the propaganda posters, denouncing the Zionist state of Israel, added another dimension to my understanding of the issue. Yet rather than answering any questions, these posters gave me more to think about. It seems counter-intuitive to me that a portion of the population that is both ideologically and religiously opposed to the modern state of Israel would be afforded political status and rights in the country, but this is in fact the face. Specifically, the ultra-orthodox are exempted from army service, even though by law, all Jewish Israeli citizens must serve in the IDF. Additionally, the law that provides tax benefits and financial aid to families with over five children also applies to haredi families, who take to heart the commandment to be fruitful and multiply. Finally, as I mentioned earlier, police do not typically bother the Mea Shearim community in the case of illegal actions – Fenster cites the 2003 Chief of the City Enforcement Department at the Jerusalem Municipality, who characterised the haredi community as “outside the law and outside enforcing the law” (69).
In spite of their opposition to both Israeli law and statehood, however, the haredi are also recognised as a key demographic within Israeli society. In the assigned reading, “The Faces of Religiosity”, Ben-Rafael illustrates how the ultra-orthodox take part in politics, often serving in the Knesset to further their own sectarian interests and promote Talmudic within civil law. Ben-Rafael also claims that Hebrew is becoming more widely spoken among religious communities such as Mea Shearim, and is beginning to overtake the traditional popularity and ubiquity of Yiddish. This, he argues, reflects the growing move towards Israeli culture within Jewish ultra-orthodoxy. Also, the creation of special military units designed for the ultra-orthodox have helped some members of the haredi community function more productively within Israeli society. In this way, the haredi are both a fundamental part of Israeli life, whose influence is still reflected in the laws concerning Shabbat, and also removed (and in some ways, exempt) from civic duties.
In conclusion, Seeing the interplay of religion and politics in Mea Shearim through the haredi’s self-enforced segregation from other Jews and Israeli citizens, in spite of their involvement within national politics, really demonstrated the cultural “balagan” that is Israel. This was especially pertinent after the lecture we received from Benny Porat on religion and public life, which touched upon similar themes. As a Zionist, I found it difficult to that the haredi receive all the benefits of Israeli citizenship while disapproving of the state itself, and thus, without having to fulfil the civic duties and responsibilities (including military service as well as general adherence to laws, as discussed with the posters). However, as a student of religion, it was fascinating to see the diversity of religious expression and its influence on society, which has become even more apparent upon exploring the tensions between Mea Shearim and the rest of Israel. Though not my favourite place in Jerusalem, it was quite illuminating to see another side to the multifaceted religious tapestry of the city.