When is segregation okay – if ever? Anne, Shoshanna and Rachel explore a hot topic in Israel: state-sponsored sex segregation in universities.
When is segregation okay – if ever? Anne, Shoshanna and Rachel explore a hot topic in Israel: state-sponsored sex segregation in universities.
In the 10 years I’ve lived in Beit Shemesh, I have seen things I thought I’d never see. I’ve seen signs telling women what to wear and signs ordering them to walk down a specific staircase. I’ve seen young girls spit on and called shiksas. I’ve been spit on, for trying to protect these girls.
This is a story about runaway extremism. About the apathy of the local authorities and the silence of local religious leadership. It is a story in which the heroines are a few courageous women dedicated to stopping these acts, and whose efforts have brought together a motley crew best seen a few weeks ago when we toured the city’s landscape of modesty signs with a Christian Arab Israeli Member of Knesset and a varied group of Jewish women and men. It was one of the strangest and most inspiring experiences of my life.
For it wasn’t the police, or the rabbis, or MKs from the religious parties who came to see, to hear and understand. It was an Arab Christian MK, other MKs from across the religious and political spectrum, and men and women from IRAC (Israel Religious Action Center – the public and legal advocacy arm of the Reform Movement in Israel) with whom we found common cause. And despite the problems in Beit Shemesh, I came home from the day proud of the State of Israel that had brought us together.
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Tensions in Beit Shemesh, a suburb 30 minutes west of Jerusalem, began over a decade ago, when groups from the most insular ultra-Orthodox Jewish sects settled in a newer section of the city, Ramat Beit Shemesh Bet. This neighborhood abuts an established Religious Zionist neighborhood where women, both native Israeli and immigrant like me have made a home for our religious Zionist families.
Signs declaring “MODEST DRESS ONLY!” began popping up around town. Teenagers were harassed for hanging out in groups by ultra Orthodox men; girls were called “shiksas” or “whores.” On a few occasions, men threw rocks.
Most famously, the local religious Zionist girls’ school and its students were subjected to regular yelling, spitting, and vandalism by grown men in an effort to convince the school to vacate the premises.
A group of women, all of whom had endured physical or verbal assault, decided to try to end this harassment. They attempted to work with the city, and were all but ignored. Moderate haredi leaders refused to get involved.
And so, the women turned to the law, filing a civil suit against the signs.
Throughout all this, the women and their supporters were subjected to skepticism and criticism. Local politicians and residents criticized the religious women, accusing them of being “reformim” (Reform Jews) and using that to delegitimize their cause and besmirch their names in local magazines. Those who themselves had turned blind eye to the women and girls were now shaming them for accepting assistance where they at last found it. Many people, local and on social media demanded to know why they were causing such problems. “It’s just a sign,” they were told, over and over.
Finally, in 2015, the women had a big victory. The Magistrate court ruled in favor of the women’s civil suit and awarded them damages, all of which the women donated to charity. The city took some of the signs down.
Within hours, they were back up.
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The new sign was even more specific: “Welcome to a haredi shopping center. Women who come / visit / buy/ work are requested to come in modest dress that includes long skirts, long sleeves and closed necks. Thank you for the understanding. Rabbis of the area and the residents.”
The thing is, it’s not just a sign. This past summer, religious teens who walked through Ramat Beit Shemesh Bet on Shabbat to volunteer with special needs children had trash and invective hurled at them by youngsters and adults. When their parents attempted to end the weekly harassment by meeting with haredi community leaders, they were told, “Don’t you see the signs? We are telling you how to dress. If you don’t follow those demands, naturally, you will be attacked.”
In other words, the signs were being used to justify violent behavior. In June of 2016, the administrative court ordered the signs removed. But as of February 2017, they were still up. In June, the city was ruled in contempt of court. The city then turned to the Supreme Court to appeal this ruling.
By the beginning of December 2017, not only were the original signs still up, but new signs had appeared. These new signs went beyond ordering a dress code to delineating where women were and were not permitted to walk:
“By request of the leading rabbi, women are asked to move from this sidewalk to the other side of the street and don’t go near the Shul and of course do not hang around on this sidewalk!” Read one.
“At busy times (mainly morning and afternoon ) on way to and from schools and Shuls, men – go on the right side of the stairs , women on the left,” demanded another.
On December 4, the Supreme Court held a hearing on the city’s appeal. Mayor Moshe Abutbol tried to claim that it was the job of the police to remove the signs. After all, he had taken them down once and the signs simply reappeared.
But the judges, were having none of it. Judge Hannan Meltzer was fiery in his response.
“There is no such thing as a street closed to women in the State of Israel. There never has been and there never will be!” Meltzer roared.
“Telling women how to dress and where to go in a public space is against the basic law of a person’s right to honor and freedom,” Judge Uri Shoham continued.
The judges gave the mayor two weeks to remove the signs or face jail time.
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The judges’ decision made national headlines and on December 24, the Knesset Committee for the Status of Women and Gender Equality came to see for themselves if the mayor had fulfilled his obligation.
And that is how I came to be talking with MK Aida Touma-Suleiman about tzniut and hijab signs.
Touma-Suleiman is an Israeli Arab woman, who, in her capacity as head of this committee, has had to chair meetings on matters pertaining to women in Judaism. In preparation for debates, she has studied up on issues such as tzniut (modesty) and mikveh (the ritual bath). More than once, she has been heard correcting her Jewish counterparts on Jewish ritual and even quoted the Shulchan Arukh — the Jewish Code of Law — to a haredi member of Knesset during a debate on women’s rights in the mikveh.
Touma-Suleiman and six other MKs, members of IRAC, as well as members of the press joined the fact-finding mission.
In traversing the city by private bus, the MKs spontaneously decided to alight in the city center. Touma-Suleiman said she needed to get a feel for what happens in Beit Shemesh, and she wasn’t going to from the seat of a bus.
Here the visitors were treated to the sight of the women’s health clinic, where the word “woman” was spray-painted out. It is here that the largest modesty signs hang ominously above the main circle (now replaced with graffiti): “Passage only in modest clothing!”
Across the street was a segregated staircase with the word “women” in Hebrew painted going down on one side and the word “men” down the other.
As our group looked around at the graffiti, paper banners, and stickers plastered around the city to replace the signs, a crowd formed around us. One woman approached, dressed in ultra-Orthodox attire, wanting to know how we could enter the neighborhood with such disrespect, indicating the few women wearing pants (the signs specify skirts).
“Why can’t you respect our place?” she asked. “I have non-religious relatives. When they come to my home, they dress with respect.”
Touma Suliman told her that public streets are not anyone’s home, but a place where people do business and walk freely.
Their conversation was cordial, but increasingly tense, as dozens of men gathered around, some yelling “shiksa” and “prutza” — Yiddish for “non-Jewish woman” and “promiscuous woman” respectively.
Ironically, none of them knew that their name-calling was accurate, and one of the women they targeted, the Christian Arab MK, was actually not Jewish.
After the tour, the group sat together to debrief and discuss. Touma-Suleiman described the situation as a battle similar to others in the world, where wars over territory have been fought on the backs of women, often the weakest element of society and easiest to control. She said that the extremists were trying creating a “state within a state,” where their rules are law.
When the director-general of the city tried to suggest that the signs were really a matter of cultural sensitivity, Touma-Suleiman cut him off, saying, “Don’t talk to me about cultural sensitivity; that is only ever used to justify oppression of women. I’m not buying it.”
She compared the Beit Shemesh signs to posters in Arab towns that exhort women to wear the hijab, recognizing them as similar phenomena.
It was strange to find myself having more in common with this woman from Nazareth than with some of my neighbors.
We all — religious women, native Israelis, new immigrants, Russian MKs, secular male Israelis, and a Christian Arab, with widely divergent political views — sat together and discussed the need to protect the rights of every citizen without harming the rights of others.
And I felt pride in that moment. Pride in people, in their basic desire to do good and be good, and in the State of Israel where all of these people from divergent backgrounds were brought together.
I also felt deep disappointment and shame. Disappointment that we, religious women, had to leave the confines of our local and rabbinic leadership to try to resolve a situation that should not exist in the first place. Shame that these extremists and those who do nothing to stop them reflect so poorly on Torah and Judaism.
We who know that righteousness comes in all shapes and sizes will work with the Israeli Supreme Court, an Arab MK, and, for that matter, anyone else who wants to join the cause to protect Beit Shemesh — and the wider Jewish community — from the extremism in its midst.
Originally published in The Forward on January 11, 2018
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In the city of Bet Shemesh, a struggle is playing out between two ways of life, the repercussions of which will affect the future of Israel.
If you’ve heard of Bet Shemesh, chances are it’s because of the “crazy fanatics” who live here, because someone you know moved here, or both.
Nestled in the beautiful Judean hills, Bet Shemesh started in the 1950s as a development town for Romanians and Moroccans. Russians, Ethiopians, Anglos, and Strictly Orthodox (Charedim) soon joined them.
Within the past 15 years, Charedim from the most radical sects of Judaism, those who don’t believe in the state, the army, or respect any form of Judaism other than the one they practise, have come to live in the city. They settled at the edge of the existing Charedi neighbourhood, across the way from an established neighbourhood of religious Zionists — a large portion of whom hail from Western, English-speaking countries.
Tensions began when Charedi residents wrote letters to their neighbours across the street, telling them to move their televisions and cover their windows so they didn’t have to see unholy things. Teenagers were harassed for being in the streets, women and girls were called “shiksas” or “whores”, and most famously, an entire girls’ school was subject to near daily harassment from men yelling, spitting and vandalising the school in an attempt to get them to move. This battle for turf ended only when the media was brought in, as too few local residents were willing to get involved to force the bullies to stand down. Similarly, there have been local riots against the IDF, police are called Nazis and Charedi soldiers have been attacked.
At this point, you may be wondering why on earth we still reside here. Rest assured, on an average day these things are not seen and this city is a very pleasant place to live. In fact, concentrated in Bet Shemesh is a community made of the most incredible and sincere people working hard to make this city, and country, better for everyone.
It is no wonder that the battle for the future of the Jewish state is being fought here, where the most zealous and least law-abiding men have come up against the most ideologically motivated, educated, and religious, Zionistic women.
At the centre of this battle are the “modesty signs”, symbolic of the small minority imposing its will upon a large part of the city. In addition to local circulars, billboards, and even health-clinic brochures being devoid of images of women, these large posters hang in various parts of town and tell women how to dress and where they can and cannot walk.
Five local women, all of whom were verbally or physically assaulted by local extremists, asked the city to remove the signs, which denote a sense of turf. Mediation failed and a lawsuit was filed. The women won but, although taken down, the signs were soon up again. Since then, more have been added. This month, in a dramatic and historic hearing, the Supreme Court ordered the city to remove the signs.
Judge Hannan Meltzer, appalled at the idea of forbidding women in any public place said, “There is no such thing as a street closed to women in the state of Israel. There never has been and there never will be.”
Judge Uri Shoham proclaimed: “Telling women how to dress and where to go in a public space is against the basic law of a person’s right to honour and freedom.”
The judges ordered the signs be taken down and stated that the police are to accompany any woman who wants to walk where the signs were located. These definitive statements and accompanying forceful directions are a huge win for the women of Bet Shemesh — and of Israel.
It is true that each time the signs are taken down, they are replaced with new ones (or graffiti), it is also true that the bullies who seek to control the city are feeling the pressure. In a show of desperation, they publicly identify and insult the women who brought the lawsuit even by making calls to their children and threatening death-rituals and violence.
But the women remain positive and encouraged. The struggle of Bet Shemesh is a struggle between thuggery and the rule of law. Every woman involved in this suit is proud and grateful for the opportunity to be part of something historic that will bring more freedom to the women of Israel.
Both the Orthodox Union and the Rabbinical Council of America position themselves as rabbinic leadership for (at least) the Orthodox community in the United States. Both maintain that a key component of the Orthodox community is “listening to the rabbis.” Both have condemned in no uncertain terms the concept of Orthodox women clergy, and both have emphasized the vital position and importance of Jewish women in the community.
It baffles me, therefore, that neither the OU nor the RCA has taken a stand against the damaging practice of removing Jewish women and girls from publications that is taking over Orthodox society.
This practice began in the most insular Orthodox communities over the past two decades, and has now become the dominant practice of Orthodox publications, to the great dismay of Orthodox women everywhere.
Entire magazines are devoid of women. There are children’s books, textbooks, comics, and advertisements in which no mothers and no daughters are represented. Beautifully illustrated Shabbat zemirot booklets have grandfathers, fathers and sons; there are no grandmothers, mothers, or daughters. I even have an illustrated Megillat Esther sans Esther.
It’s a bizarre and sad world in which Jewish women are considered immodest, no matter how modestly they dress and act…
Both the OU and the RCA use glowing terms to depict Jewish women in their statements on women clergy:
From the OU: “…female role models are, of course, absolutely critical for the spiritual growth of our community. Communities depend, and have always depended, upon women’s participation in a wide array of critical roles, both lay and professional, that are wholly consistent with Torah’s guidelines.”
From the RCA: “…the Rabbinical Council of America encourages a diversity of halakhically and communally appropriate professional opportunities for learned, committed women, in the service of our collective mission to preserve and transmit our heritage….
Given their recognition of the importance of women in the community at large and their stated respect for women, I found it shocking when, earlier this month, the Orthodox Union’s Jewish Action magazine praised and highlighted the very publications that censor images of Jewish women and girls. The multi-page spread paradoxically spotlighted the women who work for these same publications, while ignoring the fact none of these women — or any other one — can appear in their own publications.
Mishpacha is one of the most prominent publications to omit images of women and girls. When it recently profiled Mrs. Yehudis Jaffe, the article was accompanied by photographs of the educator’s husband and father.
Similarly, in these publications, advertisements show smiling male professionals — real estate agents or dentists, for example — yet their female colleagues are represented by flowers, shapeless icons, or simply a name. The uneven portrayal of men and women doing the same job looks ridiculous, but worse is the fact that, since photographs are worth a thousand words of marketing, the female business owners are at a competitive disadvantage with regard to their market share, with reduced chances for livelihood and clientele.
Tens of thousands of Orthodox women, who adhere to the publications’ values outside of this deeply painful and humiliating policy, find the approach disturbing and puzzling. There are Facebook groups dedicated to the sole effort of changing these policies. These women want visible role models for their daughters. They want to see people they identify with in the pages of magazines. They are hurt and confused at the notion that the very presence of a modestly dressed Jewish woman — or girl– is taboo.
From the women themselves (ironically enough, names have been changed for their protection):
On finding Jewish women inappropriate and removing positive role models:
“I find it extremely distressing that you refuse to print pictures of girls over 6[-years-old] or appropriately dressed women. In a world where we are constantly bombarded with images of what women ‘should’ look like to be the ‘most’ attractive, it is even more important that our girls can look to frum media for appropriate role models.” — Dina
From a father and rabbi:
“…there is a stark difference between my reading experience and that of my wife and daughters, because whereas the main magazine contains pictures of male role models to whom I aspire, the Family First and Mishpacha Junior magazine don’t have pictures of female role models to whom my wife and daughters wish to aspire, and while ‘a picture tells a thousand words,’ it seems for women, they just have to settle with words. …Tzniut is a positive value, not a negative one, and by failing to publish pictures of tzanua women in your publication, the implied message is that no matter how appropriately dressed a woman is, she is still somehow doing something wrong. As someone who teaches young women in seminary, I assure you that whether this is your intended message, it is the message being received by young women — and even not so young women. The level of anxiousness about tzniut observance today, especially among young women, is unhealthily high, and there are many young women whose self-value and self-esteem is suffering for lack of confidence that they appear as they should, because they lack the examples and role models of what that actually means.” — Rabbi Solinsky
On feeling erased and having nothing to relate to:
“Your family magazine is positioned to show my daughters — and their future zivugim [marriage partners] — what Jewish women can be and should be, within the bounds of halacha. I wish that when my girls look in your magazine and see the amazing people and complex issues of the frum world, that they can begin to see themselves — their tafkid [purpose] — their unique path to avodas Hashem [service of God]. They should not grow up feeling like “strangers” in a world that simply erases them…Role models in Tanach [the Bible] exist, and are revered, but is that relatable? For my daughters, where are their people?” — Sarah
On the lack of halachic basis for censoring Jewish women:
“I do not see how you can justify this practice. To the best of my knowledge, it has no halachic basis and I challenge you to prove otherwise. Just as it was only a few generations ago that men and women sat together at wedding dinners but now are separated, so too, photos of “tzniusdik [modest] Jewish women are as hidden as — lehavdil, Muslim women under burkas. Before you roll your eyes at this, ask yourselves: to what further extent will Jewish women be hidden as they are? What will stop this trend toward narrower and narrower parameters?” — Bracha
On the objectification of Jewish women and girls:
“One of the things that pulled me towards Yiddishkeit [Judaism] from my secular life was what I was told about the status of women: how we were special, different but equal in importance, and how we would not be judged by our bodies but by our shining souls and personalities. It is something I hope to share with my children someday…
When you refuse to print pictures of women in your magazine, it goes against what I was taught. Instead, it shows that women are too dangerous to be seen, that we must be hidden away. This is judging women by their bodies, just as the secular culture I left does. It does not display that women are in any way equal… Not only are you putting women down, you are also doing the same to men. While not displaying pornographic images is clearly commendable, not displaying pictures of women at all implies that any sight of a woman is dangerous to a man, that he is totally incapable of controlling himself when confronted with an image of a properly dressed woman or girl. That too says that women are being judged. Being judged as dangerous..”– Chana
By the hundreds, frum women have contacted the publications to request a change in policy. The responses range from polite “thank you for your feedback” notes to the clear revelation that the feelings of the women for whom the magazines are designed are not important, and neither is halacha or hashkafa.
One example: The annual auction brochure published by Oorah, an organization designed to bring families and children opportunities to connect with their Jewish heritage, contains no images of women. Many, many women emailed the organization to express their dismay, and their intent not to contribute to the cause until pictures of females are returned to the publication. The formal response, received by many, according to their comments on one of those Facebook groups:
Thank you for contacting us. We struggle with this question every year. While we may not agree with it hashkafically, we recognize that, from a fundraising standpoint, it would turn off much of our donor base … we are following the decision of mainstream frum publications who have made this the standard in frum publications.”
Who created this particular standard? Donors? Advertisers? Who then needs rabbinic leadership, if economics drives Jewish policy?
The OU and RCA came out strongly against women clergy of any kind. Their numerous statements and 17-page paper on the matter make their position clear, even as the same documents praise Jewish women and proclaim that they are to be valued. Yet the concerns of the Orthodox women who look to the OU and RCA for rabbinic leadership — women who value Torah and tzniut and truth — are not even on the radar of these organizations. How else to explain their silence on this issue of censorship and objectification that matters so much to so many?
Without question, this policy of removing nearly all images of women and girls from Orthodox publications alienates Jewish women from those who represent Torah. To be clear: the same women that the OU and RCA respect for their place in tradition find themselves excluded by the extreme changes to that tradition, and cannot all remain committed to views that, in fact, are not tradition.
I urge the established Orthodox leadership, in the form of the venerable institutions of the OU and the RCA, to take a stand against this damaging practice of disappearing images of modest Jewish women from Orthodox publications, and stand up for the dignity of Jewish women.
When “modesty signs” instructing women how to dress were used as justification for assault against women and girls in Beit Shemesh, a number of residents sued for discrimination – and won. But within hours of the signs coming down, new ones had taken their place. Chochmat Nashim weighs in on how this court case signifies the turf wars between Israel’s ultra-Orthodox and the rest of Israeli society.
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