July 24, 2007 by admin
Fleeing the Janjawid isn’t the only way that Darfurian women are fighting for their lives—they are also struggling to prevent maternal mortality by becoming midwives. Sudan has the fifth-highest maternal mortality rate in the world, with 17 out of every 1,000 women dying while giving birth. This startling figure is partially caused by a lack of trained local midwives to compensate for the country’s severe doctor shortage and limited number of hospitals. With the help of humanitarian aid organizations, the Midwifery School of El Fasher in Darfur is training students to help women in their community give birth . This year, 82 midwives graduated with the expertise to handle births within their refugee communities.
Midwives are not only important to prevent deaths during labor, but also to reduce post-natal complications and their societal ramifications. Traditionally, Darfurian women marry at extremely young ages and conceive children as soon as their bodies allow them to. Having children in your early teens can lead to post-natal complications such as fistula (a disease that destroys connections between organs, leading often to debilitating and ostracizing incontinence). Women who were raped by the janjiwid militia and Sudanese Army also experience reproductive difficulties and painful post-natal conditions. Sadly, women suffering from these conditions are often ostracized by their husbands and their communities. Midwives can help avoid these unfortunate circumstances by providing proper natal care and emotional support. The Dean at the Midwifery School of El Fasher said that enrollment rates are rising and their wait list grows longer every year.
As a Jewish-American woman, I could learn a lot from the Darfurian women’s growing interest in midwifery and their commitment to reproductive health. Many women here in America do not have access to adequate natal and post-natal treatment due to the rising costs of health-care. This doesn’t necessarily imply that I should become a midwife (although Hebrew women are the oldest recorded midwives), but it does mean I should join the advocates in my community who are working towards reproductive health for women. From Sudan to the United States, it is inspiring to see how women are working to ensure the reproductive health of their sisters and friends.
–Sophie Glass
July 23, 2007 by Mel Weiss
One big story in the international department this week is sure to be Turkey’s recent election. I’ll own up to a minor obsession with Turkey’s history and politics, but I do think this election has, in its own peculiar way, implications for Israel. (For a great wealth of information on the Turkish election, check out The Economist’s website, because they’ve done a super job of following the issue for months; the most recent article can be found here.)
To make a long story extremely short, Turkey’s democratically-elected government, under the Justice and Development (AK) Party, is more Islamic-leaning than any administration has been since Ataturk’s great secularist reforms in the 1920s and ‘30s. Intriguingly, it’s also the most reformist—legalizing such previous crimes as speaking Kurdish—and strongly continues the tradition of upholding secular institutions. A crisis was precipitated when the current president declared his intent to nominate his foreign minister to a vacated judicial post. The Army posted its intent to enact a coup on its website, the AK administration decided to call early elections, and generally the conflict was brought to the surface. But clearly the will of the people has been made known, because the AK party just won the elections.
So, what’s the connection? Well, it starts with the same neither-here-nor-there position occupied by both Turkey and Israel, Middle Eastern countries who are/think they are/want to be European. Turkey has, of course, applied for EU membership so many times that they can probably fill out the applications in their sleep, and while there has never been more than whisperings of an eventual application by Israel, I have no doubt that the average Tel Avivian would consider herself more European than Middle Eastern. Further, Turkey’s outsider status as a non-Arab country has eased Turkish-Israeli politics, at least for a long time. (Dr. Neill Lochery, a well-respected academic, has suggested that Turkey’s rejection from the EU will have long-reverberating repercussions for this relationship, since competition for the same, more local markets in inevitable. Of course, he also said that Israeli tourism to Turkey would eventually subside because “how many leather jackets can you own?”) (more…)
July 19, 2007 by admin
This week I had the privilege of attending the closing brunch and plenary session of the 93rd Annual Hadassah National Convention, in which newly elected president Nancy Falchuk was officially installed. I went as a reporter rather than as a member of Hadassah, as I am not one, nor did I grow up in what they call a “Hadassah home.”
But sitting there listening to Falchuk and others enumerating Hadassah’s various activities and accomplishments—while picking at a multitude of elegantly-miniaturized breakfast foods—I found myself marveling at what an amazing organization Hadassah really is. From its lobbying and masterful fundraising in support of stem cell research, advocacy for Israel (in so many different ways), and support for women’s rights and leadership, Hadassah really is an active and influential global organization with its hand in many different facets of Jewish and secular public life.
So why do I recoil at the idea of being a “Hadassah woman?” And why did my presence significantly lower the average age in the room?
Though Hadassah has an active Young Hadassah division (women aged 18-35), my sense is that its membership comes mostly from Hadassah homes, women who are following in the footsteps of their mothers and grandmothers (case in point: Falchuk’s daughter Aimee co-chaired the recent Young Hadassah International Conference), and is not necessarily attracting new young members to its ranks, though Falchuk’s inaugural address clearly hinted that they are trying to.
In discussing this phenomenon with a colleague—thanks, Steven, for the chat—I came to a few conclusions:
1. As a volunteer organization, Hadassah does not appeal to career-minded young women. Even Falchuk referred to her mother and her friends as “ladies who lunched,” and that image of privileged women who can afford to not work and who have the time to devote to career volunteerism is increasingly unappealing to women who have been brought up to believe they should pursue careers just like their husbands, and increasingly unrealistic in an expensive world where most families need two incomes to get by.
2. Hadassah’s mission (or missions) are divorced from its structure as a “women’s organization,” so it doesn’t seem particularly relevant to women who might otherwise be interested in the work it does. Though women’s rights is one of Hadassah’s causes, it is by no means its central concern, and having an organization of women that is not focused specifically on advocating for women’s rights seems unnecessary. Why fight for stem cell research within the context of a women’s organization? Why advocate for Israel within the context of a women’s organization? These fights could easily be led by organizations devoted specifically to those causes, or by a non-gender-based umbrella organization. What advantage does activism through a women’s organization bring in these contexts?
Which brings us to…
3. Hadassah is essentially, on its most basic, local grassroots level, a sisterhood organization, an idea that seems anachronistic and perhaps even silly—akin to men’s Masonic lodges—to younger women who, like myself and most of my friends, shunned the very idea of joining a sorority in college. From a purely social standpoint, the local Hadassah chapter is not appealing to younger women. Most women join their local Hadassah chapter in order to do some good and spend time with their friends (evidenced by the appalling amount of chatter at the brunch while people were speaking from the podium). But most younger women don’t want to spend time with the middle-aged women who comprise the bulk of Hadassah membership.
Which brings us to…
4. Hadassah’s just not cool. For us image-obsessed young hipsters, Hadassah’s a little too nice, too safe, too old to be attractive. I’m talking on an honest, visceral level, with the recognition that it’s not rational or politically correct to reject an amazing organization because of its image, but hey, marketing is everything. Which is why Falchuk wants to start a professional marketing division under her tenure as national president.
My recommendation? Young Hadassah should start shaking things up, focusing on some more controversial issues (stem cells are only controversial among Christian fundamentalists, not liberal young Jewish women), and rebelling a little against their mothers’ and grandmothers’ lunching ways. Maybe ladies who snack at midnight…for Darfur? Now there’s an activity I can get behind.
—Rebecca Honig Friedman
July 17, 2007 by admin
These days it seems to me like I could end the genocide in Darfur with a little Internet shopping. For example, I could start by purchasing a Green Day T-shirt that promises to end the violence in Darfur; or I could buy “colonial style leatherware” designed by George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Don Cheadle under the clothing label “Not on Our Watch.” But since clothing isn’t my thing, I could always buy “Instant Karma,” a CD recently released by Amnesty International as part of their Darfur campaign. The title of the CD (taken from a John Lennon song) illustrates the impatient attitude that characterizes 21st century consumer and cyber activism. The stylish Instant Karma website entreats me to sign a petition, of which only a line of its text is displayed (I had to click a link to actually read the petition).
Is this combination of consumerism, technology and compassion a brilliant fusion destined to save the world? Or, is it a shallow way of feeling like you’re doing your part to help the world, while getting a really sweet T-Shirt in the process?
By turning to Jewish texts, we can find some answers. Judaism continuously stresses that charity is not sufficient to Tikkun Olam, repair the world. Instead, Jews must be holy and engage in tzedekah, a Hebrew word derived from tzedek, meaning “justice.” Tzedekah is not limited to giving money to support charitable causes, such as buying a Darfur T-Shirt. According to the medieval Jewish scholar Moses Maimonides, one of the most important acts of tzedekah is helping a poor person get a job, instead of giving a poor person money. In other words, to pursue justice you must take out your work-boots and not only your credit card.
It is logistically difficult and incredibly dangerous to take out your work-boots by personally visiting Darfur, however, there are other ways to get actively involved with ending genocide. I recently spoke with Dan Feldman, a former Assemblyman of New York who informed me that in his opinion, the most powerful way to enact change is to personally visit your elected officials. He basically said that online petitions barely influence decisions because they are so easy to sign that they don’t indicate any true commitment to the cause.
I believe that consumer activism is a shallow solution to deeper problems that require our full attention. While it is important to monetarily support the issues we care about, we mustn’t feel complacent after purchasing a leather jacket, even if it dons the label “Not on Our Watch.”
Just yesterday, the U.S. reported that the Sudanese government has resumed bombing civilian targets in Darfur. This sort of widespread government-sponsored terror is not going to end with buying a T-Shirt from the comfort of our computers. Unfortunately, ending genocide is not as “instant” as our credit-card transactions.
—Sophie Glass
July 15, 2007 by Mel Weiss
I opened an innocuous-looking email here at the Lilith office last week and found we had been cordially invited to the 2nd Annual Israel/Washington DC Summit sponsored by Christians United for Israel (CUFI). It’s a sweet thought, but I personally intend to pass. In fact, the whole thing creeps me out like you can’t believe.
I’d hate for anyone to think that I have a problem with Christians or Christianity, because that’s not true and not what this is about. But Christian Zionism makes me uneasy, as I think it’s just a sugar-coated offshoot of a highly politically-motivated Christianity—a proselytizing, anti-separation-of-church-and-state, messianic Christianity. And while people are allowed to believe whatever they want, these folks certainly aren’t my vote. (For a great and terrifying read, check out Michelle Goldberg’s book, Kingdom Coming.)
Rev. John Hagee, who’s been highlighted speaker at a recent AIPAC conference, heads CUFI. I almost don’t mind that his friendship towards Israel is predicated on the idea that we Chosen Folk must all be gathered there before Christ can return to Earth to judge us; I’m much more concerned at the rapturous welcome he and other Christian Religious Rightists have been given by the right-inclined section of the American Jewish community. Now, I know it’s not easy to be a supporter of Israel on the left—I went to a very left-wing college and got in my fair share of near fist-fights. However, we need to have a serious discussion inside the Jewish community about this phenomenon.
And it is definitely a phenomenon. In 2002, the Zionist Organization of America awarded Pat Robertson the “State of Israel Friendship Award.” Yeah, that Pat Robertson. Yes, yes, the man who said—not insinuated, but said, on his national television show—that Ariel Sharon’s stroke might have been divine retribution for giving land to the Palestinians. Ditto, Rabin’s assassination. Of course, Mr. Robertson also believes that feminism is a “socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians”. He said that in The Washington Post, people! What was the ZOA thinking?!
This is going to come back to haunt us in domestic policy in the near and very-near future. No matter what your view of secular humanism (fundamentalist Christianity’s sworn enemy), Jews in America benefit from the separation of church and state because we’re a teeny tiny minority. It’s there for those of us who don’t want to pray somebody else’s prayers in public school, or have judicial decisions passed down based on religious beliefs we don’t share.
Look, I know that Israel needs support—although it does boggle the mind that the same people who discipline their children can’t conceive that sometimes unconditional support is less than helpful—but we can’t let support for Israel be the cost of our participation in egregiously misguided unions. Jewish organizations—some of the most mainstream among them—are getting into bed with people who speak out against Muslims, gays, feminists, and compromise. There has to be another way.
If all this fails to convince you, check out Rabbi Eric Yoffie’s article in the Forward on why this phenomenon is bad for the Jews. That’s something we can all agree to worry about.
–Mel Weiss
July 13, 2007 by admin
So the verdict, er, that is, the plea bargain, is in. Israel’s now-former president Moshe Katsav, who faced rape charges that could have put him in prison for up to 20 years, has struck a deal, pleading guilty to lesser sexual harassment offenses in exchange for a suspended sentence and having to pay fees to two of the four women—all former employees—who have accused him of sexual abuse. Israelis are up in arms.
But that is a good thing. So say those who want to put a positive spin on the situation.
First, some really good news. As reported by Haaretz, the scandal has raised awareness, and a willingness to talk about, sexual harassment and abuse among Arab women:
The number of Arab women seeking assistance in dealing with sexual assault has risen as a direct result of the intensive media coverage of former president Moshe Katsav’s case, according to the Nazareth-based organization Women against Violence.
A definite, tangible benefit from an otherwise alarming situation.
But more idealistically, the fact that Israelis—not just women but as MK Shelly Yacimovich put it, perhaps hyperbolically, “an entire consensus of the entire public in Israel” [Ynet]—are so upset by the injustice of the deal shows that Israeli society is no longer tolerant, as it traditionally has been, of the philandering of powerful men and their abuse of women.
The same could be said of the recent uproar amongst female politicians in Israel over the Israeli Consul General in New York’s coordinating a photo spread of “Women of the Israeli Defense Forces” in the soft-porn men’s magazine Maxim, featuring hot bikini-clad (and just barely) Israeli women, as a publicity stunt to attract men aged 18-40 to Israel. The fact that women in Israeli put up a fight rather than turning a blind eye or shrugging their shoulders shows that such treatment of women will not be tolerated anymore and that feminist acitivism is alive and well in Israel.
As Education Minister Yuli Tamir said at a rally protesting the as-then impending plea bargain, “Perhaps this is the moment when all of us must tell the Israeli public—enough is enough. Women shall not be hurt, their dignity shall not be humiliated—not through acts, not through touching and not through kisses.”
But the outcry against the Katsav deal is about more than feminism and the women who were wronged. It’s also about injustice in the truest sense, that Katsav did not get his day in court. While Attorney General Menachem Mazuz has given his reasons for the decision not to try Katsav—the most valid being that he did not think the evidence would hold up and that Katsav would thus not be found guilty of the more severe charges—the Israeli people are effectively calling those reasons bullshit.
It seems like more than wanting to see Katsav hanged, they want to see him dragged through the wringer of a trial, to have him go through the system like any other criminal and let the courts decide. As one plaintiff’s attorney, Kinneret Barashti, said at the aforementioned rally, “I am pleased to see that everyone understands that this is not one person’s specific problem, but that this is a democratic state. . . . The case should have been transferred to the court.” [Ynet]
Jerusalem Post columnist Amotz Asa-El picks up on this aspect of the situation, though he comes to it from a different angle. Recalling the way in which Katsav won the presidency against Shimon Peres seven years ago through what he calls “a grand haredi lie,” Asa-El sees Katsav’s fall as a fitting correction to his rise, and a sign of the healthiness of Israeli democracy:
And yet, disgraceful as all this clearly is, and bruising though it is for the Zionist enterprise, it nonetheless survives it. For at the end of the day, the Jewish state—through its media, legal system and non-governmental organizations—has detected an ailment in one of its limbs and treated it.
He turns this scandal into an opportunity for the Israeli public to oust the corrupt forces who put the corrupt Katsav into power in the first place, asking “And if they remained indifferent to Katsav’s abuses of his secretaries, how will they treat other people’s daily abuse by pushers, pimps, loan sharks, bookies, bureaucrats, regulators, inspectors and cops?”
A good question. But if the reaction to the outcome of the Katsav case—the outrage and the willingness to recognize and produce the positive from within it—is any indication, the Israeli public will have a thing or two to say and do about that.
—Rebecca Honig Friedman
July 11, 2007 by admin
“For three transgressions women die in childbirth: for being careless regarding [the laws of] menstruation, the tithe from dough, and kindling the [Sabbath and festival] light.”– Bameh Madlikin / Mishnah Six
I do not personally feel bound to the traditional understanding of challah as a woman’s commandment. It bucks against my general inclination towards egalitarianism, and it also seems wildly superstitious to blame death in childbirth on neglecting to tithe a small piece of dough.
That said, I do feel connected to a community of Jewish women who, over centuries and changing contexts, so lovingly and carefully followed the commandment of making challah each week. I love the softness of swollen dough between my floured fingers. I love punching it down on Friday afternoon and releasing a heady mixture of yeast and sugar into my kitchen. I love braiding the stretchy strands and pulling two egg-browned loaves from the oven. I love that first fragrant breath of Shabbat. Throughout this process I merge with these women. I intuit the way they worked their weekly frustrations out in the dough, braided their secrets into its folds, and infused it with the sweetness of their wishes.

So although I purchase pre-baked challah more often than I make it, and cheer when my friend Avi brings his beautiful, seeded challot to a Shabbat potluck, I think Challah continues to be a binding force for women across Jewish tradition – as rich and complex as the dough itself.
–Leah Koenig
July 10, 2007 by admin
Asking questions is a core tenet of Judaism. “The Four Questions” during Passover is just one example of how Jews question and analyze our traditions and the world. The genocide in Darfur is not a straightforward situation and the news often glosses over explanatory details, leaving concerned individuals confused and overwhelmed. Let’s try to clarify this complex crisis in Darfur by answering four of the most common questions I hear regarding the genocide taking place in Darfur.
Is it really a genocide?
In 2004, the United States officially declared that the “conflict” in Darfur was a genocide because the situation met the criteria outlined by the Geneva Convention in 1951. Former Secretary of State Colin Powell said, “Killings, rapes, burning of villages committed by Janjaweed [militias] and government forces against non-Arab villagers… [were] a coordinated effort, not just random violence.” He then said, “genocide has occurred and may still be occurring in Darfur.” Unfortunately, the United States has not followed up its bold proclamation with bold action.
Despite the abounding evidence and the US declaration of genocide, The United Nations has concluded that genocide is not taking place in Darfur. The UN admitted that the Janjaweed were carrying out “war crimes” against the civilians of Darfur, and some individuals might have “genocidal intent;” nevertheless, the UN has ruled that the central government of Sudan is not guilty of intentionally carrying out genocide. If the UN officially proclaims that genocide is occurring, they are legally bound by the Geneva Convention to intervene. This mandated intervention, along with economic interests in Sudan, are some of the factors deterring the UN from calling the situation by what I believe to be its rightful name: genocide.
How Many People Have Died?
The real answer is that nobody knows. The New York Times lists the number of civilian deaths at 200,000 and the Washington Post estimates 180,000, while the Save Darfur Coalition calculates total deaths at 400,000. Because of the severe lack of security, there are practically no fact-finding missions or humanitarian aid groups able to survey the population. With scarce investigative teams and a limited NGO presence, countless Darfurians are dying without a trace.
Who are the rebels?
The rebels refer to the groups in Darfur that are fighting the Government of Sudan. Two of these groups, The Sudan Liberation Movement/Army (SLM/A) and the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM) led an uprising in 2003 against the Government of Sudan (this uprising led to the Government’s genocidal retaliation). The rebels’ objectives range from completely seceding Darfur from Sudan, to gaining increased political representation and power within the central government. Excluding a brief unity in 2006, the rebel groups are divided into countless factions and are unable to form a strong front to stand up to the Government of Sudan.
What can I do to help?
Use your own strengths to be an advocate for the people of Darfur. For example, you can create photo exhibits to educate others, write personalized letters and make phone calls to your members of Congress, create a short video for Darfur or organize a fundraiser. For more specific ideas, visit the genocide intervention website.
–Sophie Glass
July 9, 2007 by Mel Weiss
I’d like to take a moment to talk about American law, and race, and we the (Jewish) people. It came up when the Supreme Court decided that Brown v. The Board of Education never happened, and it comes up all the time when I want to talk about affirmative action. I find many Jews—at least socially liberal, economically comfortable, white-passing Jews—have a real mental block about affirmative action (which was certainly related to the recent Court ruling—it’s still affirmative action even if the parties in question are fourteen). I think a lot of that block is the sense that if Jews, a minority that certainly did tend to arrive in America with almost nothing, have been able to “make it,” then certainly any and everybody should be able to. I think such a train of thought, although entirely misguided, does display a continuing value placed on education, work, and self/communal-reliance. Nothing wrong with that, but it ignores a few basic points, the first of which is that Jews did have something like affirmative action here in the U.S. They called it the G.I. Bill. One of the most pinko pieces of legislation to get rammed through a Congress, the G.I. Bill did things for the “white ethnic” working class (Jews, Irish, Italians, etc.) that would have never been otherwise imaginable. Free education?! Our current vet packages should be so nice. Among the thousands of soldiers (mostly white, from a segregated armed forces) who received a free college education this way were both of my grandfathers—the first in their families to go to college in this country. Yes, education is a value in the Jewish community—no doubt. But yes, we got something from the government too, once. It leveled the playing field—not such a horrible thing.
It’s important to note that the G.I. Bill helped men far more than women—and that shows, too, in a pay gap that still has not resolved itself, despite the pretty permanent place of women in the workplace now. I’m not going to get into the various theories about why such a pay gap exists—and there are plenty—but just put on the table the fact that it’s sexist and wrong. I’m as in favor of a meritocracy as the next citizen, but I’d love something in place to help modulate fair hiring practices and make sure I can sue for equitable wages.
And finally, we’re part of a religious and, to some extent, a cultural community that absolutely dictates fairness in our business conduct. More than the requirement to allow extra wheat for gleaners—that’ll come when we discuss welfare—and even more than the exhortation “Justice, justice shall you pursue,” we have very specific instructions about how we are to conduct ourselves in the business realm:
“Thou shall not have in thy bag divers weights, a great and a small. Thou shalt not have in thy house divers measures, a great and a small. A perfect and just weight shalt thou have, a perfect and just measure shalt thou have.” (Deut. 25:13-15)
Fairness, real fairness even where we might lessen our own profits, is a commandment. Justice and fairness sometimes require a small sacrifice on our part, in the sense of not taking that which might not be ours by right. Not every group has access to such an ancient and meaningful system of holy obligations, and it’s time that we support their implementation in our day to day lives.
–Mel Weiss
July 5, 2007 by admin
Israel’s Rabbinic courts released data last Tuesday that contradict the claims of groups who fight for the cause of agunot [women “chained” to men who won’t grant them a Jewish divorce].
The Jerusalem Post reports that, according to the courts, “at the end of 2006 there were only 180 women in Israel who could not divorce because their husbands refused to cooperate in cutting matrimonial ties” and that only 69 of them were officially “considered agunot by the courts”:
Agunot were defined as women whose husbands stubbornly refused to cooperate even after various sanctions had been taken against them by the rabbinic courts, including suspension of drivers’ licenses, prison sentences or restraining orders. Or women whose husbands had ran away to a foreign country.
But groups fighting for the rights of agunot define the term much more broadly, including women who have obtained Jewish divorces by “forfeiting some of their basic rights, such as alimony, child support or child custody” and “women who want a divorce but who have despaired of the rabbinic courts because the judges are considered partial to the husband.” This definition, they claim, puts the number closer to as many as 100,000 agunot worldwide.
Another important, and perhaps even more surprising, part of the court’s data is that there are 190 “chained men” (versus the 180 chained women) whose wives are holding up divorce proceedings, refusing to agree to a get. We’ll come back to that in a moment, but it needs to be noted that the strength of a chained man’s bonds is less than a chained woman’s, since her chains come from the Torah and his from a rabbinic addendum to halacha. As the JPost article explains, while neither chained woman or chained man is permitted to remarry without obtaining a get, if a woman has a child through an extra-marital relationship, that child is considered a mamzer [bastard], but if a man does the same the child is not a mamzer and will enjoy the same rights and status as any fully recognized Jewish person. So the relevance of the larger number of chained men than women is questionable.
We can argue endlessly about the numbers, what they really mean and how they are collected — and note that the 100,000 is a broad estimate of agunot worldwide and 180 a narrow count of “chained women” in Israel alone — but numbers are not the issue here, people are.
In principle, do 69 agunot matter any less than 100,000 do?
Should any less be done to fight for the rights of those 69 women than is currently being done?
The rabbinic court would have us saying, yes, less should be done. Because far more significant than any numerical data is the dismissive tone in which the courts’ “administrative head,” Rabbi Eliyahu Ben-Dahan, delivered the news:
“Women’s organizations who fight for agunot’s rights present baseless claims that they have no intention or desire to prove,” said Ben-Dahan. “I challenge them to bring proof that there are even a tenth of the numbers of agunot that they claim there are.”
Ben-Dahan could not have stated his purpose more clearly: this report was presented in order to stick it to feminist activists, to make them look stupid by undermining the claims on which their activism is based.
And in a sense, who can blame him? Agunah rights groups have certainly done their share of attacking the beit-din, accusing rabbinic judges of favoring men in divorce proceedings. Ben-Dahan is just trying to defend the courts against these attacks.
Yet his disdain for “women’s organizations who fight for agunot’s rights” reveals a much more problematic disdain for those very rights, and the plight, of agunot. Revealing that there are only 69 agunot does not make those 69 chained women feel any more hopeful about their situation.
Getting back to the plight of “chained men,” while the data may (may) show the rabbis to be less prejudiced in favor of husbands (without knowing the details of the cases we really can’t say), this revelation points to another problem: the courts are indeed failing to resolving divorce proceedings. Not only are 180 women stuck in frozen divorce proceedings, so are 190 men! That is not a victory to gloat over — it’s an admission of failure.
Israel’s rabbinic court would do well to introspect and try to fix its fast-tarnishing reputation by judging more compassionately and effectively, rather than going on the defensive and lashing out in the face of public criticism. The people whose lives it affects so profoundly, and whom it is supposed to treat justly, would certainly benefit.
–Rebecca Honig Friedman