Back to the present. A month ago, just before Pesach, an impressive collection of essays was published by a range of recently formed Jewish left-wing groups, such as the Israeli Smol Emuni (Faithful Left) and the international collectives All That’s Left and Halachic Left. Each of them related some aspect of the Pesach Haggadah to the current political situation, mostly the war but not exclusively. One contribution was by Rabbi Lara Haft Yom-Tov, listed as simply being a Rabbi and educator in London but who was also a recently appointed Rabbi at the aforementioned New North London Synagogue. Rabbi Haft Yom-Tov’s contribution was not particularly controversial within the collection, it was strong but far from being the most radical. However it had exhibited a certain starkness and moral clarity which marked it out as a likely source of controversy. It took as its starting point the ??? ??????? ??????? prayer:

This is the bread of affliction our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat; let all who are in need come share our Passover.

Rabbi Haft Yom-Tov pointed out that the text has traditionally been understood as an commandment to feed the hungry, and pointed out the hypocrisy involved when Israeli leaders (accurately described as war criminals), whose actions have created a famine in Gaza, said those lines at their Seders. Less noticed by the ever-literal Jewish press was an implicit comparison between Israel’s policies in Gaza and those of both Pharoah’s Egypt (Mitzrayim) and the Torah’s ‘evil cities’ of Sedom and Amorah, which punished a young girl who sought to feed another hungry child. The essay states: ‘The world becomes ripe for the un-making of civilizations like Sedom and Mitzrayim, regimes that celebrate the starvation of children and punish anyone who dares resist’, which might reasonably be interpreted as a call for the ‘un-making’ of the modern state of Israel into an equal state of all its citizens. Haft Yom-Tov concludes with stark clarity:

Pesach stirs us to proclaim the simple truth, which is understood intuitively by kids, whether the young girl of Sedom or the children at our Pesach seder. That life is sacred. That God hears the screams of the oppressed. That we have to feed those who are starving. We must commit ourselves to these simple truths of our tradition, never surrendering them to rancid metaphor. 

You might have imagined that the New North London Synagogue would have been relaxed about Rabbi Haft Yom-Tov’s words. The Masorti movement’s founding story is of an iconoclastic Rabbi being blocked by the religious establishment. It would have been natural for them to look favourably on another Rabbi writing according to the conscience, regardless of whether it was politically convenient to do so. ‘Our Rabbis have the right to speak as they see fit, and seek truth wherever they find it’ the movement might have intoned. Of course it didn’t. The synagogue issued multiple statements, both to members and the Jewish press, distancing itself from what Rabbi Haft Yom-Tov had said, blamed the Rabbi for writing it and not showing it to the shul beforehand, forced them to apologise to the community and announced they were being subject to disciplinary measures. It seems that around 100 members called for them to resign and be sacked, although I personally know of many other members who wrote in support of the Rabbi, a fact which has been conveniently omitted from press coverage. It appears like the synagogue is considering sacking the Rabbi, which would make an interesting test case under the Equality Act. While there is an exemption for religion under the Act, I’m not convinced it would permit a synagogue to sack its Rabbi on account of their political views.

If we consider this a second ‘Jacobs affair’ it soon becomes apparent that the roles have been reversed. Rabbi Haft Yom-Tov is following the dictates of their conscience and their research, writing the truth as they see it. The New North London Synagogue, heirs to the teaching of Louis Jacobs, are behaving like the Chief Rabbi and United Synagogue of the 1960s. They are relaxed about Israel-critical, or even non-Zionist views behind closed doors but will not tolerate any public dissent from the mainstream Jewish/Zionist line on the current war. Of course, the issues are different: in Louis Jacobs’ case the boundaries of orthodoxy were drawn around the issue of divine/human authorship of the Torah; the new orthodoxy that has been growing ever stricter since the 1967 war is over the centrality of Israel to Jewish life and whether any substantive criticism of it (especially one that might echo the language of the Palestine Solidarity Movement) is ever permitted. As Daniel Boyarin has written in relation to the 1^st Century CE, the creation of religious orthodoxies necessarily goes hand in hand with the creation of heresy; communities define themselves by working out who is and isn’t outside their boundaries. Just because current forms of censorship relate to issues of nationalism and politics rather than theological dogmas doesn’t make them any less questions of orthodoxy.

Where controversial views are held by an individual synagogue congregant, the community is relatively relaxed about it. What does it matter as long as they never get given a platform in the synagogue and keep paying their membership fees? If that person holds a position in the shul, like being on the council, it becomes more difficult; there will be complaints. But they can be managed without too much difficulty. A outspoken Rabbi, however, is a controversy of a totally different magnitude. Rabbis are seen as the guardians of orthodoxy, both religious and political. They should be keeping their community in line, not the other way around. A dissident rabbi is like a breach of the natural order, causing an immediate crisis which must be dealt with. The Jewish Press, which has come to attack large parts of the community rather than serve it, will soon write a hit piece on them, editing a few quotes from them to cast them in the most negative light possible. And this will then be read by members who think that any ‘controversy’ is bad, that a good public image must be maintained, and believe that the Jewish Press is trustworthy, so if it is raising an issue then it must be serious. Some congregants, especially honorary officers, believe that they employ their rabbi to say what they want them to say, or represent the image of Judaism they believe in, to uphold the values they see as sacred. The idea of a rabbi as a scholar who may radically challenge the community, as Louis Jacobs did the United Synagogue, is long gone.

And this is why this controversy resonates far beyond the New North London Synagogue. I know many Rabbis, mostly Reform and Liberal but a few Masorti ones too, who self-censor, or get externally censored, much of the time. Sure, it’s not on everything, but if the issue is contentious (read anything remotely to do with Israel-Palestine that isn’t pure flag-waving, or any discussion of antisemitism that is not rooted in collective fear) Rabbis are obliged to choose their words extremely careful, or better avoid certain subjects altogether. We’ve almost reached the point that sermons get expressed in Maimonides-level coded form, so only a select few can understand what the rabbi in question actually wants to say. And there have certainly been cases of rabbis threatened with disciplinary measures based on their political views or public statements. Such censorship doesn’t apply across the board – rabbis who are politically right wing, especially Orthodox ones, are free to politicise their pulpits to their heart’s content, and face few consequences for doing so. Which creates a state of affairs where Rabbis on the right get to sound self-confident, unabashed and authoritative while left-wing ones come across as timid, guarded and irrelevant to the key issues of the day. Lara Haft Yom-Tov refused to play that role, and spoke clearly, morally, and in line with the deepest values of Judaism. And they are now paying the price for it.

Given all this, who would enter the rabbinate today? If rabbis have no freedom to speak their mind, and to publish the role will soon become the sole preserve of careerists, quietists and Jewish-supremacists. The Jewish community will have pushed out anyone with a conscience, an inquisitive mind or a free spirit. Is that really going to produce a thriving, exciting Jewish community that young Jews will want to remain part of or that converts might want to join? Is this censorship really going to be good for the Jews?

I don’t seriously expect reflective answers to these questions. Such is the toxic cocktail of fear and nationalism that flows through the British Jewish community right now that I think many would prefer a less vibrant community to one that includes outspoken critical voices. Which means that those of us who do care about justice, equality and freedom are going to have to build our own institutions. It’s not going to be easy. We’ll need new synagogues, schools, burial societies, youth movements, cultural institutions, media platforms and publishing houses. It would be easier and better if we didn’t have to create some of these bodies anew, if some of them could be persuaded to become non-Zionist, or at least a-Zionist: inclusive of non/anti-Zionism/diasporism without taking a position either way. But I’m not sure that is going to happen. I think we must begin the difficult work of creating our own Jewish community, to be the Judaism we want to see in the world. Some of that work is already underway, with the Queer Yeshiva, Miknaf Haaretz, Camp Beenu, Shabbat services at the university encampments, alternative anti-Zionist university Jewish societies, Na’amod seders. These are the birth-pangs of the new British Judaism.

Although I hope for them personally that the New North London does not sack Rabbi Haft Yom-Tov, for those of us who are hungry to build this new movement it would be better to see them use their immense talents outside closed-minded synagogues. Beyond the bounds of the mainstream, they could express themselves fully and help build a more just, more free Torah that is fit for our times. It would be the Masorti’s movements loss, but I don’t think we owe it anything after how its behaved. Our loyalty should be to Louis Jacobs’s iconoclasm and free-thinking approach, not to the movement which claims to represent his legacy.