I spent a few weeks in Lakewood several years ago as part of a kiruv program. The family I stayed with was what one might call “balebatish,” and I had nice rapport with them. Speaking about various different religious paths that were open to me, the father of the family said this:
Picture the word “FRUM” in your mind. You’re the U, looking forward. Everything to your right is Fanatically Religious, and everything to your left is too Modern. That’s what it means to be frum.
At the end of the day, we are always at the center of our story, and we must always balance between becoming too much of a fanatic on the one hand or giving too much of our religious experience over to the contemporary zeitgeist on the other. Modern Orthodox Jews are acutely aware of this tension, but other movements within Judaism appreciate it as well. Ever since my time as a student, I haven’t associated Chabad as being at the forefront of this conversation, but authors like Naftali Loewenthal, Eli Rubin, and now Mendel Adelman consistently prove me wrong.
I gave Rabbi Adelman a lot of credit for pushing boundaries in his first book (reviewed here) and was not surprised that Precipice: Where Faith Turns Fanatic (Platinum Books, 2024), does the same. The book seeks to draw a line between religious passion and fanaticism.
Fanaticism, R. Adelman writes, “is not defined by what a person believes. It is defined by how they believe.” Even if two people share the exact same beliefs, one falls into fanaticism when their “actions are morally indefensible, even if their core beliefs are right, because they ignore offsetting considerations.” The rest of the book offers a five-step process to gauge religious fanaticism in our lives:
“Consider the possibility that you are wrong.”
“Ensure that you are rank-ordering the issues properly.”
“Consider whether less harmful alternatives exist.”
“Consider how likely your success is.”
“Consider if your beliefs are in line with innate morality.”
The inverse of these can be used to measure whether someone else has slid into fanaticism. In R. Adelman’s words,
Step 1: Consider the possibility that they might be right. Presume that there is a 99% chance that they are correct in their core beliefs.
Step 2: Consider if they are accurately weighing the multiple factors and issues involved.
Step 3: Consider the possibility that there are no other alternatives.
Step 4: Consider the chance that they might be successful.
Step 5: Consider whether their beliefs attempt to align with innate morality.
If their actions fail at any of the above steps, you can assume that (there is a 99% chance that) they are a fanatic. But if their actions fit into that framework, then they might not be a fanatic. They might just be wrong.
This, of course, raises an important philosophical question about how much credence one should have in their own beliefs. R. Adelman states that certainty “is one of the most pernicious viruses a person can have… the enemy of progress, the nemesis of truth. Certainty shuts the door to further conversation, to further growth… it ignores alternatives, rather than contending with them.” How confident should we be, therefore, that Hashem gave the Torah to Moshe Rabbeinu and that we are expected to continue observing its laws? Rabbi Dr. Sam Lebens has contended that one only needs 25% certainty that God exists and wants Jews to observe Halakhah to justify our commitment to Jewish practice, while Rabbi Adelman takes a different approach.
Like Lebens, Adelman notes the need to have “reasonable, limited confidence… mixed with intellectual humility” so that we are able to sufficiently “analyze, come to a conclusion, and take the path forward” rather than paralyze ourselves. We must also, he writes, “be ready to spin on a dime and hike back up the way we came” if new evidence presents itself to us. What, then, is the threshold? Adelman provides no lower limit, but unequivocally writes that the rule of thumb is to “never be more than 99% sure” in anything we believe. 99% is enough credence “to take most actions in life” such as choosing a spouse, career, home, etc. It is perhaps even enough for us to put our own lives on the line. But it is NOT enough justification to take the life of another. Without full 100% certainty, Adelman writes, “the pious are only certain enough to bet their own lives on their beliefs. Fanatics are certain enough to bet the lives of others.”
Rabbi Adelman uses many examples to highlight this difference, but I’ll focus on one relevant to previous writings on this page: Zionism vs Anti-Zionism. Take, for example, the difference between Satmar Chasidim and the Neturei Karta:
Satmar Chassidim, and other anti-Zionists groups, are able to rank-order priorities. They might disagree with the State of Israel, but that does not mean that they should throw themselves into the arms of those who openly call for the deaths of every Israeli. They detest Zionism, but they do not celebrate terrorist attacks. They refuse to be part of the army, but they wouldn’t ally with Israel’s enemies. They understand that there is something more important that their rejection of Zionism: that the State of Israel be able to protect its citizens.
Neturei Karta members are so hyper-focused that they miss the forest for the trees. They blame the Zionists for the Holocaust, so they ally with Holocaust-deniers who would perpetrate another Holocaust if they could. When asked directly how they could associate with such people, they respond that “they do not mean that the people of Israel should be wiped off the map. They just mean the regime of Israel should be wiped off the map.” Presumably, that would include the millions of Israelis who support the State of Israel.
Theological anti-Zionism, in other words, may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it is an acceptable position within Jewish discourse. The position of the Neturei Karta and others who march alongside those who actively seek to kill Jews, on the other hand, is well beyond the pale.
In a powerful blog post, Dr. Mijal Bitton recently drew attention to the uncomfortable reality which results from allowing the latter form of anti-Zionism (whether championed by Neturei Karta or other organizations) too deeply into our conversations:
For far too long, in the name of inclusion, we have allowed fringe voices to distort Jewish communal priorities. For decades, our community has been obsessed with widening the tent — so much so that its flaps flew off. At times, Jewish institutions diluted pluralism into meaninglessness, accepting everything and standing for nothing. At worst, some have betrayed core Jewish values to accommodate voices on the fringe.
In reading her words, I was reminded of framework presented by Rabbi Ethan Tucker in which the values of pluralism (commitment to the simultaneous coexistence of conflicting ideas), integrity (commitment to consistent, uncompromising practice of one’s own sense of what is right), and community (being in a relationship with someone in a way that makes you vulnerable to them, dependent on their interpretations and decisions) find themselves in competition:
In the above image, R. Tucker writes,
The vertices of the triangle represent the full expression of one value at the expense of the other two. The midpoints of the sides represent prioritizing two of the values to the exclusion of the third. The impossibility of maintaining a full commitment to all three values is illustrated by there being no point on the perimeter of the triangle that is equidistant from all three vertices. All efforts to balance all three values thus take one off of the perimeter…
Jewish spaces, in other words, can only balance two of the three values at any given point. A particular institution might be pluralistic with integrity but lack cohesive community. A community might be pluralistic, but lack integrity. Finally, a community may have integrity, but not fully pluralistic.
My synagogue in Philadelphia, for example, falls into the third category. We’re an Modern Orthodox, Zionist congregation that is open to fellow travelers regardless of their denominational background, personal practices, political positions, gender identity, sexual orientation, etc. This approach allows for a wide range of views to be present within shul, while also making our priorities clear. Anti-Zionists often find themselves davening with us (as many chasidim who unfortunately have family members in local hospitals do) but understand that they are in a decidedly Zionist space due to the prayers we say and the flags that are present.
Returning to the book under review, Rabbi Adelman notes correctly that the fanatical positions of the Neturei Karta are unjustifiable and find no acceptance within the mainstream Jewish community, but that this has little to do with their beliefs alone:
Neturei Karta are fanatics not because of their beliefs. After all, who knows if they are wrong? They claim the Holocaust is a result of Zionism. Holy rabbis backed that claim. We might disagree but we can’t just dismiss the possibility out of hand. We aren’t privy to God’s thoughts. But being a fanatic does not require you to be wrong. The Neturei Karta are fanatics, whether or not their position on the State of Israel is correct.
They are fanatics because they latch on to those beliefs with the single-mindedness of a tick in flesh. They aren’t able to prioritize, to weigh multiple factors. To Neturei Karta members, the world is pixelated, black and white. There’s no such thing as lesser evils. There is only evil. And anything opposing it must be good.
The cutoff for pluralism, thus, ought not to be particular beliefs or opinions, but the actualizations of those beliefs. Fanatics who partner with explicit antisemites and are unwilling to countenance broader communal views are one thing, but those who hold a particular belief and choose to respectfully share spaces with others need not be pushed out (though they need not be given megaphones either).
Rabbi Moshe Hauer of the Orthodox Union drew a similar line:
Disagreeing with any of these is not illegitimate, but as we assemble the forces of uncompromised loyalty to Jewish survival, our partnership with those who fail on any of these counts would force us to dilute and curtail rather than enhance and strengthen our support for Israel.
1. We cannot assume partnership with anyone who aligns with those who seek to harm Jews. Whatever opinion we may have of the current government, of its policies in Gaza or of the entire Zionist enterprise, there is no room for Jews to align themselves with those who seek to harm the Jewish people. This includes the Neturei Karta’s alliance with the Iranians, JVP’s alliance with SJP, the “Rabbis for Ceasefire” who congratulate the UN for their obsession with Israel, and those who make common cause with the groups creating a hostile environment for Jews on campus.
2. We cannot assume partnership with those who do not prioritize Jewish self-defense and do not recognize Israel’s right to have the last word on its own security. We must all be concerned about harm to innocent civilians in Gaza, but we cannot partner with those who approach the threats to Israel “objectively” and advocate for the aspirations of Palestinians at the expense of securing Jews.
3. We cannot assume partnership with those who do not see and champion the goodness that permeates Israel, who seem more ashamed than proud of Israel, and who constantly question the justice of its cause, its culture and its morality. Israel is not perfect and we must be honest about its failings, but it is built on strong values, is the land to which the Jewish people are integrally and historically connected, and has an army dedicated in principle to decency and kindness that is setting an unprecedented high standard in its wartime efforts to reduce civilian casualties and provide humanitarian aid to the enemy’s general population.
4. We cannot assume partnership with those who fail to unconditionally support the existence and defense of Israel even when critiquing it. Israel must be and indeed is a place where everything is argued and debated, but those loyal to Israel will stand by it unconditionally, regardless of its specific legislative stances. For example, during the judicial reform controversy, Prime Minister Netanyahu came to the United Nations to address the malign and existential threat posed by Iran. That was not the time for Jews to assemble outside the UN and declare the Prime Minister and the state undemocratic.
The question incumbent on religious leaders today is not necessarily “how can we get rid of problematic individuals” but “how can we prevent fanaticism from festering in those on the margins?” This is true not only regarding Zionism and anti-Zionism, but a whole host of issues that many leaders refuse to take public positions on at the risk of alienating constituents. We have to learn to speak to one another rather than about one another, and we need to learn how to listen respectfully to opinions we disagree with so that we can foster healthy machloket rather than, God forbid, fanatic violence.
In that regard, Rabbi Adelman’s book is an excellent start. As he concludes,
Fanaticism, on a widespread level, can only take root when people roll over and give up.
In the words of Thomas Jefferson: “An educated populace is a necessary prerequisite for our survival as a free people.”
Every religion, every belief system, has the potential to be corrupted, twisted to places it was never intended to go. And while there will always be lone wolf fanatics… we cannot let those individuals dictate policy or the tenor of society as a whole.
This starts at home. Rebuke of this sort is most effective from within. If people from other religions or beliefs call out fanaticism, it can be seen as an attack. When it comes from members of the same faith, it can more easily crack through the defensive shell. It is up to each of us to point out fanaticism, to note where our religion goes too far.
It is our job to build a fence on the cliff, to keep our religion from falling over the precipice. We need to point it out to our families, to teach our children where faith ends.
Amen.
Yet another silly attempt at evenhanded universalism, which is what got us here in the first place.
It is not religious fanaticism in the abstract that presents a danger. Nobody is at hazard from fanatical mobs of Buddhists, nor missiles launched by devout Lutherans, nor universities undermined by Confucian activists (not to be confused with the Confucius Centers sponsored by the Chinese Communist Party, which has no truck with religion).
It is specifically and only Islam—and arguably not Islamic fanaticism but normative Islam—which presents the danger, first of course to Israel and Jews but also to everyone else. What danger? This danger: submit or die.
Great article. Much thanks.
Nevertheless, I have family and friends serving in צה״ל with no backup- some over 200 days away from work and family ….and in harm’s way.
Everyone must serve, as being a תלמיד חכם and a good soldier is never mutually exclusive.
If it’s an issue of not ‘mixing with ‘deplorables’ (the current position of gdoilim) then shame on them and their educational process. Consider deportation. People are dying and they are not even going to the funerals or shiva (please do not send exceptions, we are all aware and supportive).
This issue of not mixing has lad directly to fanatical statements by gdoilim and abject silence to this by their cadres.
We have lost scores of תלמידי חכמים unnecessarily. חבל על דאבדין.
יהי זכרם ברוך