THE FUNDAMENTALIST DILEMMA: THEORETICAL AND COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVES

Scholars of fundamentalism have not arrived at a consensus regarding the definition of fundamentalism, its extent, or even its existence. Some contend that fundamentalism is a general term that should be used to describe radical political ideologies whose adherents claim the mantle of absolute truth and strive to implement it in the world, even if this necessitates violence. From this perspective, not only are radical secular movements fundamentalist, but the very roots of fundamentalism can be identified to a large extent in historical events that preceded the emergence of religious fundamentalism, such as the French Revolution.Footnote ² Other scholars argue that the tremendous range of movements that tend to be categorized as fundamentalist, whether emerging out of American Protestantism (which coined the term), Islam, Hinduism, or another tradition, with the myriad differences between them, render the category meaningless.Footnote ³

This article adopts a commonly accepted middle-ground position according to which fundamentalism is a reaction to religion's loss of hegemony and marginalization in the modern world.Footnote ⁴ Following this definition, fundamentalists have two main characteristics: zealous religiosity and radical political aspirations to transform the secular political order. Radical religious groups often express an aspiration to restore an authentic and pure religiosity free of the corrupting influences of modernity. Although the rhetoric of these movements is essentially conservative, fundamentalism is in fact a “reinvention” of religion. As Steve Bruce rightly asserts, “their conservatism is not conservation but a creative reworking of the past for present purposes.”Footnote ⁵ For example, by adhering to what they interpret as original religious texts and beliefs, these groups might actually neglect ancient traditions and religious practices.Footnote ⁶ Moreover, whereas in the past individuals belonging to the same religious in-group coinhabited space regardless of their level of observance, in the modern era, as religion has lost social and political hegemony, fundamentalists have developed their own separate cultural, geographical, and religious enclaves where they pursue or maintain their ideal way of life.Footnote ⁷ In this sense, fundamentalism is very much a modern movement despite its antimodern tendencies. As Michael O. Emerson and David Hartman assert, “without modernization and secularization there would be no fundamentalism.”Footnote ⁸

To resolve the tension of opposing modernity while profoundly depending on it, fundamentalist religiosity and activism, during the first stage of their development, turn inward: their focus is on strengthening the faith and the religious foundations of existing members, whom they shield from modernity's adverse effects. Once a fundamentalist movement gains stability and self-assurance, it proceeds to political activism with the goal of restoring religion's influence.Footnote ⁹ In other words, the walls of its enclave become permeable. Rather than content itself with religious self-rectification, the movement attempts to extend its influence outward in a variety of ways, including through social services and religious preaching, political participation, and/or violence (though violence characterizes neither all nor even most fundamentalist movements).Footnote ¹⁰

In this article, I focus on issues that arise from fundamentalists’ attempts to realize their aspirations through participation in secular political systems. While fundamentalists generally do not wish to interact with these systems, many of them view doing so as the best way to guard the religious enclave's interests and to achieve maximal influence without recourse to violence. This dilemma is endemic to fundamentalism.Footnote ¹¹ In recent years, as fundamentalist movements have come to power in various countries and have had to govern diverse populations, the dilemma has become even more complex and acute. To the best of my knowledge, scholars have yet to develop a theoretical approach for understanding this relatively new phenomenon; the present article, in addition to its other aims, seeks to sketch such a cohesive framework.

THE VICTORY DILEMMA: A NEW STAGE IN THE HISTORY OF FUNDAMENTALISM

In recent years, fundamentalists have achieved tremendous political success, capturing the kind of political power that allows them to impose their extreme ideology on society as a whole. This political success has given rise to what I call the fundamentalist “victory dilemma”: the question of whether to moderate by adopting a conciliatory doctrine appropriate to the entire society of which they have taken charge, or to seize the opportunity to fulfill their vision of restoring and promoting the status of religion in the public sphere.

Since the 1970s, and particularly over the past decade, there have been a number of responses to this dilemma. These responses can be placed on a continuum ranging from political integration to aggressive takeover. American Christian and Indian Hindu fundamentalists represent classic examples of political integration. First entering American politics in the 1970s, Christian fundamentalists quickly came to make their impact, helping conservative politicians such as Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush win the presidency. And yet despite their rising political influence, they have made no significant attempt to alter the constitutional separation of religion and state or to make Christianity the state religion. In fact, the vast majority of American Christian fundamentalists accept the legitimacy of the US constitution and democratic political system, and use democratic tools to “restore” or preserve what they see as the Christian character of the country (e.g., legislative amendments in the areas of abortion and education).Footnote ¹² Similarly, although the historic political victory of the Hindu fundamentalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) in India occurred only recently (May 2014), the party's previous record suggests that, rather than trying to undermine the foundations of the political system, it will attempt to attenuate the secular nature of India's democracy.Footnote ¹³

Islamic responses to the fundamentalist dilemma in the Middle East are more complex. Islamic fundamentalist movements such as al-Qaʿida and, most recently, the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) do not accept the basic nation-state structure in the Middle East. They claim that this structure is a modern colonialist creation that reflects neither Islamic history nor Islamic theology. Other groups such as the Muslim Brotherhood (Egypt) and Hizbullah (Lebanon) do accept the nation-state but reject its secular nature. In particular, they reject the legitimacy of the state's leadership and seek to supplant it, sometimes through violence. These extremist organizations do not represent all Islamic fundamentalist movements, several of which have chosen to integrate into the secular political order (e.g., Turkey's Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi, or Justice and Development Party). Clearly there is a wide array of responses among Islamic fundamentalist groups to the question of whether to accept the rules of the secular nation-state and self-modify, or to use political participation as a means of advancing their religious interests.

The aggressive domination model is exemplified by ISIS, which has sought the downfall of the Syrian and Iraqi regimes in favor of a new Islamic “caliphate,” and by the Iranian Revolution (1979), which undermined Iran's secular political system and subordinated politics to religion. In contrast, the cases of Tunisia (since 2011) and, to a large extent, Turkey (since 2000) conform to the integration model, since in both countries the Islamist parties appear to be willing to make concessions in order to preserve power over the long term. Their declared aim is not to annihilate the secular democratic system, but rather to incorporate religious elements into it (though the Turkish government's recent authoritarian tendencies may undermine Turkey's democracy). The Egyptian case (2012–13) exhibits how understanding the limits of power can have pragmatic value to fundamentalist groups. When Egypt's Muslim Brotherhood attempted to subordinate secular law to religious law (shariʿa), other political forces perceived its actions as providing excessive power to religion, ultimately leading (in combination with other factors) to the Muslim Brotherhood's removal from power.Footnote ¹⁴

Due to space limitations, this brief outline must exclude important factors that influence the motivation and ability of fundamentalist groups to reinforce their rule, such as specific theological differences (Christianity vs. Islam; Shiʿism vs. Sunnism), the relative political power of other state entities (such as the army), and the strength of democratic traditions in a given country. It is intended to show that fundamentalist movements are not all of a kind: in different times and places, they have responded divergently to the victory dilemma. I now turn to a more basic question: is the passion to expand inevitable? In other words, is there a situation where fundamentalists who have gained significant political power were content with protecting communal survival and did not take steps to reshape the entire society?

To address this question, I focus on a fundamentalist movement known for its self-preservation and separatist political inclinations: the Haredim. Gabriel Almond, Scott Appleby, and Emmanuel Sivan have noted that of all existing fundamentalist movements, only French Catholic Lefebrvists and Haredi Jews “renounce the world,” a term they coined to describe the inclination of these movements toward separatism.Footnote ¹⁵ These two groups, they suggest, “are not seeking to transfer or conquer outsiders who are anyway condemned.”Footnote ¹⁶ Yet I argue here that despite lacking a defined political theology, even this separatist movement, since it achieved significant political influence, has resorted to political activism in attempt to reconstruct the public sphere. This finding is indicative of the strong tendency among fundamentalist groups with political power to promote their religious agenda.

APPLYING THE FUNDAMENTALIST THEORY TO THE ISRAELI HAREDI CASE

The self-preservationist and “world-renouncing” character of Israeli Haredim has led many scholars to refrain from identifying them as fundamentalists. Much of the scholarship on Haredi society, particularly its Ashkenazi-Lithuanian faction, instead embraces the theory of “Orthodoxy as a response to modernity.” Established by sociologist and historian Jacob Katz, this theory regards Haredi society not as an authentic expression of traditional Judaism—as it views and presents itself—but rather as a new historical phenomenon that developed gradually over the past two hundred years in reaction to the threat of modernity.Footnote ¹⁷ In so far as it focuses on zealous religiosity and social separatism, Katz's theory is remarkably similar to the fundamentalist theory. Haredi society is said to manifest the search for a “pure”—and usually strict—interpretation of halachot (religious rules) as well as a preference for text-based interpretations over lived traditions.Footnote ¹⁸ This search has led to “a shift from culture to enclave,” as Hayim Soloveitchik puts it, or to the establishment of separate Haredi communities.Footnote ¹⁹ Thus, whereas the premodern Jewish community encompassed all Jews regardless of their level of observance, the Haredi community has chosen to isolate itself spatially not only from modern society, but also from other Jews, whom it marks as enemy agents of secularization.Footnote ²⁰

While in many respects Haredi zealous religiosity is similar to that of other fundamentalist movements, its political passivity complicates such comparisons to the extent that some scholars question its identification with global fundamentalism.Footnote ²¹ As many have observed, Haredim seem to lack an explicit political theology and possess no agenda to transform the society around them into one based on religion. The association between Haredi society and passivity becomes particularly obvious when Haredim are compared to Orthodox Zionists. Whereas religious Zionism has advocated the incorporation of Judaism into the nation-state's public sphereFootnote ²²—an aspiration that ultimately led to the emergence of a fundamentalist trend in its midstFootnote ²³—Haredi society and its leadership have rarely embraced this goal. The Haredim believe that their historical return to politics will take place only with the coming of the Messiah.Footnote ²⁴ Israeli Haredi society has instead focused on ensuring its independent survival by establishing itself as a “society of scholars” centered on study of the Torah and observance of religious laws.Footnote ²⁵

Taking a different angle, some scholars have made distinctions among Haredim based on the presence or absence of political activity. They differentiate between “active traditionalists,” or the extreme Haredi minority who struggle aggressively against Zionism, and “passive traditionalists,” or the mainstream Haredi sector which chooses to ignore rather than struggle with the outside world.Footnote ²⁶ This distinction reflects the prevailing scholarly view that most Haredim are either anti-Zionist or apolitical, lacking the fundamental desire to transform the surrounding Jewish sphere.

Since the 1990s Haredi society in Israel has undergone significant changes. Unanticipated Haredi demographic growth and geographical expansion has led to the increasing integration of Haredim into Israeli society and politics.Footnote ²⁷ These shifts have engendered a new wave of scholarly research and a shift in popular discourse. In terms of scholarship, new research has generally continued to focus on Haredi society's efforts at self-preservation in an era of significant social, economic, and religious change rather than to start examining Haredi society's political attempt to influence Jewish Israeli society.Footnote ²⁸ This tendency reflects the persistence of the “Orthodoxy as a response” theoretical approach. In stark contrast, popular discourse has suggested that Haredim are trying to transform the state's secular character and to create a religious theocracy. Countless articles have appeared in the popular press decrying the “religionization” of Israeli state and society. While some research has already been carried out on this topic—and this article draws on this body of workFootnote ²⁹—no attempt has been made to approach it from a comprehensive perspective as part of a global phenomenon.

In this article, I argue that even if Israeli Haredim do not possess an explicit political theology aimed at transforming the existing, secular political order, they are working to make the public sphere more religious. As Haredi political power has grown, so too has the Haredim's tendency to shape the public sphere. This trend indicates that political integration does not necessarily bring about religious moderation; in fact, it sometimes leads to its opposite—radicalization. To demonstrate this point, I explore three approaches to participating in Israeli politics that Haredi society has developed: protest, consolidation, and takeover. Each of these approaches is legitimized differently and has its own effect on the public sphere. These distinct approaches, reflective to a certain extent of internal variations within Haredi society, are the product of the complexity of this society and the dynamic changes to its boundaries. This is not to say that haredi society cannot be discussed as a whole. As Benjamin Brown has noted, all Haredi factions “share the basic ultra-Orthodox ethos, which holds with conservatism on issues of Halacha (Jewish law) and criticism of modernity.” Moreover, as Brown shows, “Haredi Judaism is critical of the State of Israel, usually because of its secular nature, and it certainly does not see it as ‘sacred’ or as the source of redemption.”Footnote ³⁰

EXTREMIST PROTEST AS EXTRAPARLIAMENTARY PARTICIPATION (APPROACH 1)

The Haredi extremist approach is identified with a number of groups in the Jerusalem Haredi community, most notably Neturei Karta (Guardians of the City). This approach is characterized by a complete refusal to cooperate with the State of Israel and its various institutions based on the notions that Israel is a secular state and, more generally, that establishing a sovereign Jewish state before the arrival of the messiah is heresy. Consequently, since the British Mandate period, this community has maintained a policy of total segregation from Zionist institutions, and its members attempt to lead their lives independent of the state. They neither vote in elections nor accept state funds, though some scholars have observed a softening of this strict stance over the last two decades.Footnote ³¹ Given the anti-Zionist position of the extremist approach, its answer to the “fundamentalist dilemma” is obvious: Haredim must completely set themselves apart from the “illegitimate” Israeli political system. In reality, however, Haredim have done otherwise. While they refrain from establishing formal ties to the state and its institutions, through their protest activities they have informally become involved with and even shaped the Israeli public and political sphere.

The extremists’ protest activities first began in the 1920s and intensified after the establishment of the State of Israel. Aimed at secular Zionist institutions as well as rabbis and various Orthodox institutions accused of collaborating, partially or fully, with Zionism, these activities have included the posting of venomous handbills in Haredi community centers, the famous abduction of the young boy Yossele Schumacher from his non-Haredi parents, acts of violence in response to desecrations of the Sabbath, the enforcement of public modesty, and demonstrations against archaeological excavations.Footnote ³² In the view of the extremists, protest is a religious duty aimed at voicing disapproval of the transgressions of other Jews. Sociologically it allows extremists to enhance group cohesion and collect vital monetary contributions that compensate for their refusal to accept state funds.Footnote ³³ Yet these protest activities can also be seen as a form of participation in Israeli politics. Perhaps taking this view as well, the Rabbi of Brisk, a prominent figure in the anti-Zionist Haredi community during the first decade of the Israeli state period, opined in response to a question about the extremists’ protest activities that these acts constitute “implicit Zionism.” In his opinion, such activities would never have taken place in the diaspora, and that they occur only under the rule of the “Zionists” indicates that Haredi participants “feel at home” in the secular Israeli state.Footnote ³⁴ Taking his cue from the Rabbi of Brisk's insights, Ehud Sprinzak has defined Haredi protests as “extraparliamentary” political engagement.Footnote ³⁵

The protests have had two goals—one symbolic and the other practical. The first goal is to express a refusal to recognize the legitimacy of Israel as a secular Jewish state. The second goal is to reshape the Israeli public sphere. Both goals have been achieved. While in the 1950s protest activity was limited mostly to the confines of the Haredi community enclave, primarily in Jerusalem, the protests began to expand significantly in the 1970s and 1980s both spatially and in terms of scale. This expansion coincided with and was related to Haredi geographical expansion, demographic growth, and increasing political confidence. The intensity of the protests and the fearlessness of the extremists in confronting state authorities have earned the Haredim significant political power, with authorities often capitulating before protests even begin. The Haredim have used this power to ensure their demands are enacted. But the Haredim have also pursued protest activity with caution due to their dependence on the non-Haredi world outside their enclave with which they are forced to maintain a delicate modus vivendi.Footnote ³⁶ Two examples serve to illustrate this point.

PROTESTS AGAINST GRAVE EXCAVATIONS

The perceived desecration of ancient Jewish graves has become one of main rallying points for Haredi extremists’ protests. The common explanation for this development is that Haredim believe on religious grounds that Jewish remains must be treated with utmost respect. Haredim view their protests against perceived mistreatment of these remains as an alternative to classical Zionist ideology in which archaeology is used to legitimize Zionist historical claims. By protecting the deceased forefathers, Haredi extremists seek to demonstrate that it is they rather than secular Zionists who are the authentic successors of the ancient Jewish inhabitants of the Land of Israel.Footnote ³⁷

However, this explanation in and of itself is insufficient for two reasons. First, there are many precedents in Jewish halachic law for the relocation of graves, particularly in the case of suspected Jewish graves. Second, most of the protests against grave excavations have taken place since the 1980s, by which time archaeology had already lost some of its national status and the Haredim's need to challenge it had become less urgent.Footnote ³⁸ In line with the main argument of this article, the intensification of the Haredi struggle was instead a direct result of Haredi empowerment since the late 1970s. Indeed, the earliest significant extremist action on the grave issue took place only in 1981, during the excavations of the City of David near Haredi areas of Jerusalem. The extremists may have lost the battle over these excavations, but they subsequently expanded the scope of their protest activities across the country. Over the years, spontaneous symbolic protests were replaced by organized Haredi activism carried out by special extremist groups dedicated to this issue.Footnote ³⁹ Since the 1990s, Haredi protests have begun to oppose even new public construction projects such as hospitals and roads under the pretense that Jewish graves might be located underneath.Footnote ⁴⁰

It is important to emphasize that the grave protests were aimed not only at secular society and its archaeologist representatives, but also at other Haredi leaders. The extremists, a relatively small number of hardcore Neturei Karta members, mocked and embarrassed Haredi politicians who, by participating in the coalition government, seemed to implicitly approve desecration of the dead. This internal critique forced mainstream Haredi rabbis and Knesset members to express some level of support for the protest activities. In this way, the extraparliamentary protest movement gained influence over the mainstream Haredi politic.Footnote ⁴¹

The grave protests exemplify the escalation of Haredi demands and the increasing empowerment of extremist dissent since the 1980s. Yet even as protest activities have expanded, they have also been selective and their employment appear to have depended on the internalization of the limits of power, an important point to which I will return shortly.

THE SABBATH STRUGGLES

Another issue that has animated Haredi extremist protests is the desecration of the Sabbath. This struggle began in the 1920s with extremists opposing the opening of movie theaters, swimming pools, and other cultural venues in Jerusalem on the Sabbath. They also staged violent protests against Shabbat traffic in extremist enclaves (which at the time still had non-Haredi residents).Footnote ⁴² Protest activity around Sabbath desecration expanded beginning in the 1970s as Haredi demographic growth led to the spread of Haredi enclaves and the multiplication of points of conflict between Haredi and non-Haredi residents. A particularly bitter battle was waged in that decade over Jerusalem's major traffic arteries, which passed through Haredi neighborhoods. After Haredim in these neighborhoods protested to demand the closure of these streets, protest activity related to the sanctity of the Sabbath began to expand to other cities. A notable example from the 1980s is the Haredi struggle against the opening of a movie theater in the city of Petach Tikvah. In this case, the protests were led not by extremists from Jerusalem but by local Haredi and other religious residents who rejected what they saw as the undermining of the status quo. After three years of fierce protests the struggle failed and the movie theater continued to remain open on the Sabbath. However, the Haredim did succeed in preventing the spread of the phenomenon to elsewhere.Footnote ⁴³ In one last case of nonextremist extraparliamentary protest—this one from 1999 and 2010—hundreds of thousands of Haredim demonstrated outside the Israeli Supreme Court against what they considered to be the court's antireligious policies.Footnote ⁴⁴

Analysis of these events demonstrates that the protest approach had been internalized by nonextremist groups within Haredi society. Ultimately, Haredim scored a series of obvious victories within explicitly Haredi neighborhoods. These victories represented the triumph of, in the words of Joseph Shilhav and Menachem Friedman, the “growth and segregation” trend.Footnote ⁴⁵ Each area taken over demographically by a Haredi population was marked, and strict religious norms were implemented in its public space. The outlying boundaries of these areas became points of ongoing friction.

Haredi Sabbath protests were far less effective in areas that were neither exclusively Orthodox nor close to the community's boundaries. Over the past two decades Israeli public space has become increasingly secular with regard to observance of the Sabbath. Shopping and entertainment centers across the country remain open on this day to an unprecedented extent.Footnote ⁴⁶ While extremist groups have continued to hold protests against these perceived desecrations, especially in Jerusalem, they have not been able to—or perhaps did not intend to—stop the spread of this phenomenon. As with the grave excavation protests, it appears that the Haredi factions were forced to recognize the limits of their strength.

THE HAREDI INDIRECT EFFECT ON ISRAEL'S PUBLIC SPHERE (APPROACH 2)

As opposed to the extremist anti-Zionist groups that resist any cooperation with the State of Israel, the Haredi mainstream—represented in the 1950s by the Agudat Yisraʾel (Union of Israel) party and its rabbinical leadership headed by Rabbi Karelitz (Hazon Ish)—adopted a passive and indifferent posture toward the state. In their eyes, the State of Israel has only functional—not moral or religious—significance.Footnote ⁴⁷ The solution of the Haredi mainstream to the fundamentalist dilemma was to participate in secular Israeli politics for the purpose of cultural consolidation: to rebuild the “world of Torah” and the “society of scholars” focused on studying Torah and maintaining religious observance. Political participation, considered merely instrumental, was limited to the necessary minimum. Consequently, the Haredi rabbinical leadership disapproved of extremists’ activities, which it saw as counterproductive to its main goal.Footnote ⁴⁸

In the 1950s and 1960s, the Haredi mainstream showed little interest in shaping Israeli society in general and, in fact, exempted itself from the religious dilemmas that preoccupied religious Zionists. Whereas religious Zionists believed in “minimum religion for the maximum number of people” (and thus pursued religious solutions that were appropriate for a nonreligious majority), the Haredi mainstream advocated “maximum religion for the minimum number of people.”Footnote ⁴⁹ Using limited political power, Haredi society succeeded in strengthening itself: its enclaves expanded beyond the cities of Jerusalem and Benei Brak, the traditional Haredi strongholds; Haredi men gained official exemption from military service; and increasing state funding subsidized the Haredi “society of scholars,” giving rise to flourishing educational institutions and unprecedented numbers of men dedicating their lives exclusively to the study of Torah.

When the Israeli state was established in 1948, the Haredi political party Agudat Yisraʾel was part of the governing coalition, but it withdrew to the opposition in 1952 following the crisis around women's national service. The Israeli government had tried to enact a new law that all eighteen-year-old Israeli women, including Haredi women, must fulfill army or national service. Though the law was not ultimately enforced, Agudat Yisraʾel still decided to leave the coalition and would not rejoin it until 1977. Soon after, two new Haredi parties were established: Shas (a Haredi-Sephardi party) in 1984 and Degel ha-Torah (Banner of the Torah, a Haredi-Ashkenazi party) in 1985. Haredi political power grew still further when Haredi parties became tiebreakers in Israeli political stalemates of the 1980s and 1990s. It was at this point that Haredi society transitioned from survival mode to consolidation, which necessitated a certain degree of integration into Israeli society. But just as Haredi society made this turn, its dependence on state resources led to growing public hostility toward it.Footnote ⁵⁰

Has the growing political influence of the Haredi mainstream caused it to transform its separatist consciousness into an integrationist and inclusive one that recognizes some responsibility toward Israeli society as a whole? The answer is complicated. After decades of self-imposed separation, the Haredim were drawn into Israeli existence and the heart of the political system.Footnote ⁵¹ As part of this trend, various Haredi voluntary organizations emerged with the aim of providing social, nonreligious assistance to all Israeli citizens.Footnote ⁵² Similarly, the past decade has seen an increase in the number of Haredim who choose to enlist in the army and enter the workforce. There has emerged a new type of Haredi—the modern Haredi, whose defining characteristic relative to other Haredim is the belief in a certain degree of integration into Israeli society.Footnote ⁵³ On the political level, Haredi members of parliament, ministers, and deputy ministers have begun to advance policies that they see to be in the interest of not only the Haredi sector but also Israeli society in general.

At the same time, Haredi mainstream society continues to maintain a separatist consciousness.Footnote ⁵⁴ Yet in contrast to the past, when internal Haredi consolidation had no direct effect on non-Haredi society, Haredi spatial expansion and demographic growth have caused consolidation to have new, indirect effects on Israel's public sphere. A growing number of neighborhoods, whether in Jerusalem, Beit-Shemesh, or elsewhere, have been transformed into religious enclaves, and conflicts between the newly arrived Haredi population and local non-Haredi residents have multiplied dramatically. Haredi mainstream societal consolidation, with its indirect effects, should be distinguished from extremist Haredim's protest approach, which is a conscious attempt to alter secular norms. The Haredi mainstream has no aspiration to transform the entire society in terms of religion. Nevertheless, it is undeniable that the Haredi mainstream's expansion, combined with the impact of its internal norms on surrounding areas, have brought about substantive changes to the Israeli public sphere. We turn now to another example of this trend—gender segregation.

GENDER SEGREGATION: THE SPILLOVER OF HAREDI NORMS INTO THE PUBLIC SPHERE

In religious (synagogues) and communal (social gatherings) contexts, gender segregation has always been the norm in Haredi society. Over the past two decades, the phenomenon has expanded into the general public sphere. Within Haredi zones, gender segregation was enacted in libraries, medical clinics, post offices, sidewalks, and shopping areas. On public transportation that links Haredi population centers, men sit in front and women in back. Haredi gender segregation is the ultimate example of a fundamentalist society responding to the secularization of the public sphere by adopting norms that have no historical precedence. The expansion of Haredi enclaves has led to a spillover of these new norms into non-Haredi spheres. Non-Haredim who need to use segregated public transportation, if only for its low fares, might be forced to adapt to Haredi norms. Likewise, in Israeli universities women are barred from teaching academic classes dedicated to educating Haredi men.Footnote ⁵⁵ Thus, the increase of Haredi political power and integration into the general society has led not to religious moderation, but rather to religious radicalization and the spillover of Haredi norms into non-Haredi spaces.

PARTICIPATION WITH THE INTENTION OF DOMINATION (APPROACH 3)

The third Haredi approach to integration into Israeli politics is domination. In contrast to participation for the purpose of consolidation, this approach reflects a clear interest in influencing the general public; and as opposed to the antiestablishment protest approach, it attempts to apply religious norms to the public sphere through democratic tools, that is, legislation and administrative measures.

The domination approach was evident during the political negotiations between Agudat Yisraʾel and the Jewish Agency on the eve of the establishment of the Israeli state. In its list of demands, Agudat Yisraʾel required that personal status issues be the purview of religious authorities. In other words, the Haredim sought not merely to defend their religious rights, but also to promote the status of religion in general. This arrangement of personal status law became the law of the land in 1953, rendering marriage and divorce of Israeli citizens the exclusive domain of the religious courts of each denomination.

This legislation, like most religious legislation in the first decades of Israel's existence, was promoted primarily by the National Religious Party (NRP), a religious Zionist party that enjoyed significant political influence until the 1980s. But the NRP-led legislation had the usually enthusiastic consent and support of the Haredim despite their not sharing the NRP's explicit agenda to transform Israel into a more “Jewish” country. As the NRP weakened in the 1980s, the increasingly powerful Haredi political parties took up the cause of advancing religion in the public sphere.Footnote ⁵⁶

As noted previously, we lack a comprehensive study of religious legislation in Israel,Footnote ⁵⁷ but the Termination of Pregnancy Amendment (1977), the Hametz (leavened bread) Law (1986), and the Meat and Its Products Law (1994) serve as examples of legislation initiated by Haredi parties (sometimes with the support and collaboration of religious Zionists) since the late 1970s that is aimed to promote the status of Jewish law. Another example is Agudat Yisraʾel's demand that El Al, Israel's national airline, stop flying on the Sabbath as a condition of the party's agreement to join the government coalition in 1977. This demand was met, even if not through legislation. Relatedly, enforcement of laws prohibiting work on the Sabbath was stepped up, and non-Jewish immigrants faced increasing obstacles during periods when the post of interior minister was held by the Sephardic-Haredi Shas party.Footnote ⁵⁸ Although other legislation efforts failed, including one to deny state recognition to non-Orthodox conversion, they are indicative of the Haredi motivation to establish religious norms that are binding for the entire population.Footnote ⁵⁹

In order to further illustrate this approach, I wish to turn to the Haredi takeover of the religious establishment, giving Haredim a measure of control over the whole of Israeli society. Haredi activity in this arena demonstrates this article's main argument that fundamentalists do no necessarily moderate when they gain significant and broad influence in society; on the contrary, they may become more religiously and politically radical.

FROM RELIGIOUS-ZIONIST HEGEMONY TO HAREDI RADICAL DOMINATION IN THE RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENT

Israel's religious establishment was founded in the 1920s (prior to the establishment of the State of Israel) to manage and supervise matters of personal status, including marriage, divorce, and conversion, over which it was assigned exclusive authority. Since their inception, the state religious institutions making up this establishment—the chief rabbinate and the religious judiciary—were dominated by the religious Zionist sector, which provided creative and lenient solutions to the dilemma of maintaining religious authority over nonreligious Jews. The Haredi mainstream (and not only the extremist factions), guided by its separatist ideology, vocally disapproved of the Chief Rabbinate, which it derisively called “the official Rabbinate” to indicate its subordination to the state.Footnote ⁶⁰ This situation has gradually changed since the early 1980s. The political empowerment of the Haredi sector has been accompanied by its incremental takeover of the Chief Rabbinate and the religious courts, culminating in the appointment of ultra-Orthodox chief rabbis from 1993 onward.

It is difficult to say whether the takeover of the religious establishment was a deliberate act aimed at increasing influence over the public sphere, or a sectarian act intended to provide stable employment to the increasing numbers of yeshiva graduates. Either way, Haredim began to exercise a decisive influence over religious institutes in Israel. The Haredi leadership suddenly found itself facing the victory dilemma: whether to attempt to maintain the same strict policies characterizing its inner “enclave culture,” or, by virtue of its responsibility over all citizens, adopt more moderate and tolerant policies. Ultimately, the Haredim's takeover of the religious establishment did not lead them to moderate, a point reflected, for example, in their rigid policies on women's rightsFootnote ⁶¹ and the evolution of the rabbinate's conversion-to-Judaism policy.

During the 1970s, the chief rabbis maintained a lenient policy in regard to conversion of nonhalachically Jewish new immigrants. The main rationale for this leniency was that preventing the assimilation of non-Jews into the Jewish majority helped to preserve Israel's Jewish character. Thus, part of the Rabbinate's role was to assist nonhalachic Jews to convert.Footnote ⁶² Since the 1980s, the growing Haredi influence over the rabbinate has gradually reversed this policy. In addition, in 2008 certain influential Haredi rabbis in the Supreme Rabbinic Court declared that conversions conducted by Orthodox rabbis—most of them from the Religious-Zionist sector—were invalid.Footnote ⁶³ Haredi rabbis serving in the state's marriage registry also refused to recognize these converts as Jews.Footnote ⁶⁴ That the rabbis were shunning the lenient rulings of their predecessors in favor of more stringent rulings is also evident in their judgments on shmita (fallow year), the Jewish commandment to refrain from working the land every seventh year.Footnote ⁶⁵

Clearly, in the wake of the Haredi takeover of the religious establishment, the mainstream Haredi leadership resolved the victory dilemma by favoring radical religious rulings. Yet, despite this tendency, voices within the Haredi leadership circle have called for a certain degree of caution and moderation. One of these voices belongs to the Sephardic-Haredi chief rabbi Shlomo Amar, who was in charge of conversion matters. Rabbi Amar did not act publicly against the conversion-revoking rabbis, but he did issue internal regulations that made it difficult to nullify conversions. Facing intense public pressure, he also found a way to retroactively legalize the conversions that had been annulled, an act that subjected him to severe criticism from his Haredi colleagues.Footnote ⁶⁶ Rabbi Amar's actions demonstrate that the moderate leadership finds it difficult to publicly condemn its radical members. But his actions also show that this leadership has internalized the limitations on its public power, causing it to settle for what it considers lower religious standards and, by extension, to restrain its radical counterparts. Finally, Rabbi Amar's moves reveal an element of caution in the domination approach. At least some Haredi leaders understand that the responsibility delegated to them requires compromises and concessions.

RELIGIOUS RADICALISM AND ITS LIMITATIONS

This article has focused on how fundamentalist movements participate in secular politics, or how they promote their religious agendas using secular political tools, particularly once they attain positions of leadership. The case of Israeli Haredim demonstrates that fundamentalist movements participate in politics in a variety of ways—including through full engagement and extraparliamentary activities—but maintain a fundamental refusal to explicitly and fully recognize the legitimacy of the secular political system.Footnote ⁶⁷ This position is not offset by the attainment of power; as my discussion has shown, fundamentalists who gain broad political power may further radicalize in their aspirations and religious activism.

This conclusion may seem self-evident to some. If we assume that fundamentalism arises out of a desire to remedy the harm modernity is seen to inflict on religion, it is logical that fundamentalists would act on that desire. After all, fundamentalists are no different than any other political group attempting to advance its causes in the public sphere when presented the opportunity.Footnote ⁶⁸ Nevertheless, one of the aims of this study is to address a common assumption, based on the classical theory of secularization, that modernization leads to the adoption of rational, enlightened, and liberal positions. In accordance with this assumption, one would expect that participation in the secular public and political spheres, combined with the burden of collective responsibility, would cause Haredim to adopt more moderate, inclusive, and pragmatic positions.Footnote ⁶⁹ The present study does not deny that fundamentalists can become part of public systems and might even develop internal liberal tendencies. However, its main argument is that fundamentalists’ religious radicalism does not necessarily fade through political participation. On the contrary, it can intensify, even when fundamentalists gain positions of political leadership. To put it differently, not only can Haredim, as well as other fundamentalist movements, participate without assimilating, they can also assimilate and radicalize simultaneously.

What is the reason for this trend toward radicalization? Why can't a movement whose ideology is self-preservation remain content with advancing religion within the confines of its enclaves? These questions can be answered using Charles Liebman's interpretation of religious extremism as the religious norm rather than the exception.Footnote ⁷⁰ Based on an analysis of changes in Haredi society, Liebman argued that in the premodern era extremist strands were moderated by a responsibility for Jewish society as a whole. Yet the modern equivalent of these strands—Haredi society—has formulated a new, separatist ideology that allows it to opt for more stringent policies. When Liebman published his work in the early 1980s, Haredi society had just begun to acquire political influence. Therefore, his argument referred mainly to internal extremism focused on Haredi society itself. In the years that have passed since then, Haredi extremists have begun to focus beyond the society's boundaries, revealing that when fundamentalists become responsible for the entire society, adherents find it difficult to resist the urge to apply their extreme religious standards on the entire population.

A hypothesis that emerges from these findings is that if we are indeed witnessing this phenomenon in the case of the Haredi sector, with its separatist inclination, it is reasonable to expect a similar phenomenon to occur with other fundamentalist movements whose political ambitions are part and parcel of their agenda. Events in the wake of the Arab Spring seem to indicate that the Haredi case is not the only where fundamentalists have responded to empowerment with radicalization. The brief period of Muslim Brotherhood governance in Egypt reflects the difficulty fundamentalist groups may face in restraining their radicalism, as well as the chaos and loss of power that can ensue.

Yet the Haredi case also illustrates that the fundamentalist expansionist instinct was restrained when the fundamentalists took the nonfundamentalist reaction into consideration. This explains why Haredi extremists sometimes forewent their demands to shut down parking buildings and factories that operated on the Sabbath and, on many other occasions, did not protest archaeological excavations. The Haredi political mainstream is also careful not to overplay its hand. We have seen that leading rabbis such as Rabbi Amar, who understood that the overextension of religious power might be detrimental, attempted to mitigate their colleagues’ radical actions and positions. Some have even argued—though this has yet to be substantiated—that Haredi politicians have scaled back their activities in the area of religious legislation in recent years in response to the hostile public reactions they have received. Even the extension of intra-Haredi norms into the surrounding non-Haredi space is pursued only cautiously. Haredim do not attempt to enact gender segregation in all institutions of higher education, or across all public transportation; rather, they take a middle-ground stance, insisting on upholding their norms only in spaces they consider “theirs,” even if those norms consequently apply to non-Haredim.

The Haredi radical agenda is advanced through trial and error, and its impact depends to a large extent on the opposing side's reaction. This is why Haredi interior ministers have never attempted to implement laws against working on the Sabbath universally (even as they have enhanced enforcement of these laws) or to prevent other violations of the Sabbath across the country. Similarly, Haredi members of Knesset have not made significant legislative efforts to counter the growing legitimacy of civil marriages conducted abroad. In fact, during the very period that religious influence over the public sphere grew, Haredim seem to have accepted that in some respects that public sphere was becoming more secular.

Of course, there have been certain developments, most notably the Haredi takeover of the religious establishment, that have led to the application of strict religious norms over society at large. But it seems that these developments were possible only because of the existence of secular alternatives that soften the impact of these imposed norms on the nonreligious middle class. In other words, the Haredi extremists are able to advance their religious demands because many secular Israelis do not require religious services and, consequently, despite any resentment they may feel toward Haredim, are not motivated to resist religious coercion.Footnote ⁷¹

Moreover, there are instances in which Haredim calculate the chances of their actions winning a certain degree of public acceptance, and if these chances are good, escalate their demands. For example, Haredim took advantage of the current perception that expanding Haredi participation in the labor market is a vital national interest in order to demand an expansion of gender segregation in workplaces.Footnote ⁷² On a broader level, the fact that the Israeli state's founding fathers (in contrast to Turkey's, for example) understood the importance of religion in maintaining the collective's cohesion has led to a consensus that complying with at least some demands of the religious sector to keep it within the political system serves national interests.Footnote ⁷³ The Haredi leadership adapted this political tradition of tolerance for religion and used it to achieve concessions.

In some ways, caution and calculation are contradictory to the radical instinct discussed in this article, but, as I have shown, even radical fundamentalists understand the limitations of their power. A full description of these limitations is beyond the scope of this article. Suffice it to say that the Haredim pursue the expansion of their power carefully. This caution does not contradict their deep motivation to promote the status of religion in the public sphere, often through bitter struggle. Even radical action can be based on a rational assessment of the balance of power.

BEYOND THE ISRAELI HAREDI CASE

It is important to keep in mind that the Haredim remain a minority group in Israel, and thus it is still difficult to estimate the direction that Haredi fundamentalism will take once the sector acquires higher positions of political power. The Haredi case nevertheless demonstrates—and this is the primary conclusion of this article—that fundamentalists possess a profound desire to leave their radical religious mark on the entire society, and this desire is most evident when they are in positions of power.

The second conclusion of this article is that fundamentalists’ dependence on the majority of society, as well as their interest in avoiding coercion and violence, contribute to the moderation of their radical positions. As critics of Liebman have argued, religious radicalization is not a unidirectional phenomenon: when the religious leadership feels responsibility towards society at large, it might opt for a more moderate and restrained religious policy.Footnote ⁷⁴ In Iran, religion was imposed violently, but in Tunisia the religious al-Nahda (Renaissance) party relinquished its power in accordance with the will of the voters and the rules of democracy. Apparently, despite radicalizing tendencies, fundamentalist leaderships have a wide array of possible maneuvers available to them.

Fundamentalists desire political influence, but how they fulfill this desire depends on their specific religious tradition, level of self-confidence, interpretation of the political balance of power, and institutional and democratic contexts.Footnote ⁷⁵ All of these considerations combine to create the criteria for exercising fundamentalist political power and the limits within which the battle over the public sphere takes place. As we witness the growing global phenomenon of fundamentalist movements coming into power, further research is needed to facilitate a comprehensive understanding of the various responses to the fundamentalist dilemma. The Israeli Haredi case demonstrates that fundamentalists are intuitively inclined toward radical political activism, but they are subject to limitations on their power. The varied practical applications of power lead to varied responses to this fundamentalist dilemma.