Hussein Adam@PusherEcho
Shi'ite Islam and Orthodox Judaism Have More in Common Than You Think Roni Weinstein
Many parallels can be drawn between the foundational beliefs of the Shi'ites and the Jews, particularly when it comes to ultra-Orthodoxy. This surprising connection didn't occur by chance.
In a way that may surprise those living in such a turbulent environment, there are only three instances in the Middle East where a state or powers within it are led by bodies that declare that they are representatives of God on Earth: Iran, ruled by the ayatollah (literally, sign of God), holder of supreme authority in the country; Hezbollah (Party of God), which was headed by the dominant leader Hassan Nasrallah until his assassination; and Israel, where religious parties, across the ultra-Orthodox and nationalist spectrum, play a decisive role in the political realm and in the survival of the Netanyahu government.
Unlike Shi'ite Iran and Hezbollah, the modern Sunni world has consistently rejected attempts to place religious leaders – who demand obedience from the population by virtue of their theocratic authority – at the head of the nation state. But what can explain the similarities between Shi'ite traditions and politics in Israel? What has encouraged the process of "Shi'itization" of Israeli society, which has intensified in recent decades?
The term Shi'a, and consequently the description of its adherents as Shi'ites, is short for "Shi'at Ali," meaning Ali's faction, or those who adhere to the legacy of Ali – Mohammed's cousin and son-in-law, and one of the central figures in early Islam. To this day, Shi'ites bear the deep insult of Ali's marginalization by power-hungry politicians, whose violent might, in their eyes, has corrupted Islam. This insult intensified following Ali's assassination, and subsequent murder of his son Hussein and his close associates in the Battle of Karbala in 680 C.E.. Hussein was supposed to inherit Ali's place and establish a parallel dynasty of Muslim rulers devoted to God and the community of believers. His brutal murder put an end to that hope, however, turning Shi'ites into a minority.
For centuries, the differences between Shi'ites and Sunnis were blurred. Essentially, both streams believed in the same fundamental components of Islam; moreover, Sunni believers, too, continued to view Ali as one of their cultural heroes, as he belonged to the Prophet's family and the sacred history of Islam. However, what distinguished the Shi'ites was their deep connection to the dynasty that continued Ali's path, and the belief that only his biological descendants constituted, in fact, a distinct lineage and were closer to God and understanding his secrets in a way that ordinary believers were not. This aspect, more than anything else, created a divide between the factions.
Except for brief periods – for example, in Fatimid Egypt in the 10th century, the Safavid Empire, or Zaydi Yemen in the 20th century – Shi'ites did not achieve independent rule, and feelings of persecution, shame stemming from Hussein's abandonment to his death and a deep sense of mission accompanied Shi'ite communities for centuries. Concurrently, the Imamate tradition of the 12 imams, successors to Ali, became more deeply rooted and was centered around figures with wondrous qualities and prodigious knowledge – the first of whom was, of course, Ali himself. As part of this tradition, Ali received great praise, comparing him to the Prophet Mohammed and even viewing him as the cosmic essence of the universe. Moreover, according to Shi'ite tradition, mystical wisdom and also the ability to mete out absolute justice were attributed to at least some of these imams. Their words are considered the living words of God, elevated beyond any human error. Furthermore, the imams were perceived as the only ones worthy of ruling the community of believers, as direct bearers of the divine word.
This ethos remained dormant for centuries under a veil of concealment but awaited the moment it could be revealed and become a powerful political force. It found fertile ground in Iran in the 16th century, under the Safavid rule, which established a state where the Shi'ite faith was declared the official religion, and then even more so in Iran of the post-Khomeini era. Shi'a is also characterized by intense messianic tension and anticipation of the return of the last, "hidden" imam – an expectation that further distances it from the overwhelming majority of Sunni Muslims.
Everything for the leader
It is hard to miss the similarity between some fundamental Shi'ite concepts and the Jewish experience: messianism and persistent anticipation of the end of days; life as a minority within a hostile majority; heightened feelings of persecution and oppression; and the perception of a world where justice is absent and power dictates life in an unlawful way. It was no coincidence that the Shi'ites' rivals called them "the Jews of Islam." Wherever Muslims lived, individual thinkers or circles of people with a Shi'ite orientation could also be found. And it is no wonder that the deep imprint left by Islamic civilization on Jewish tradition, religious thought and community life also included exposure to elements of Shi'ite tradition and the collective psychology that accompanied it.
Evidence of this appeared as early as the Middle Ages, including in Rabbi Yehuda Halevi's "Kuzari" and in the writings of other Jewish intellectuals. In the first stage, this exposure was relatively limited, but that changed after the expulsion in the 15th century of Jews from Spain and Portugal, when many of the exiles gravitated from the Catholic European sphere to the Sunni Muslim Ottoman sphere. The "Turkish" regions of the empire – Anatolia and the Balkans – included significant populations with a deep affinity and affection for Shi'a, and it was precisely to these areas that many of the Jewish exiles from Spain fled.
Those who spread the ties to the imams and their successors were a large group of people called Alevis, who maintained close relations with the Safavid Shi'ites, despite the political animosity between the Ottoman Empire and Iran. Alevis is a collective term encompassing several groups who arrived in the Ottoman Empire from the Persian East and constituted a large part of the Turkish population. Fear of their power led to waves of violent oppression by the empire's authorities. This was not an organized tradition, but rather an inclination toward the Shi'ite legacy and a deep love for the imams.
The slow but deep infiltration of Shi'ite concepts in their Ottoman iteration into the Jewish camp on a broader scale was manifested in the profound upheaval that Jewish society underwent following the messianic movement of Shabbetai Zvi in the 17th century. The Sabbatean movement took root precisely in those areas where there was a clear concentration of Alevis – namely, in the Balkan and Christian spheres of the Ottoman Empire.
In Sabbateanism, one can find elements that have no basis in Jewish tradition but are self-evident among Alevis and Shi'ites in general: for instance, the obligation not only to believe in the messiah and follow his path, but also to intensify the emotional dimension of love for the messiah. A Sabbatean believer is one who loves Shabbetai Zvi with all his heart and with complete emotional devotion. This love may be expressed in affectionate words and erotic expressions, or by means of mystical poetry that focuses on the messiah – the guide, the mentor, the redeemer, the beloved, the credo of the Sabbatean believers. A person continues to believe even when the actions of the religious-messianic leader contradict all expectations.
The Ottoman era, from the 16th to the 18th century, is a key link in understanding the processes of change in Jewish culture and the transformations that led to its modernization. The Ottomans – including their Shi'ite community – reigned over vast geographical areas, and the imprint of their impressive civilization was felt even in places they did not directly control, through various cultural agents such as merchants, folk healers and missionaries. The latter made a significant contribution, almost untouched in research literature, to the shaping of the Jewish collective in Eastern Europe.
A prominent example of this is found in the Hasidic movement in Eastern Europe, at the heart of which stood the figure of the tzaddik (righteous person). There is no doubt that the tzaddik model has precedents in mystical-kabbalistic traditions in Safed and in later ideological iterations. However, what distinguishes the Hasidic tzaddik from his predecessors is a sociological element: He leads a community or a broad collective of believers around him – the Hasidim – and also has connections to popular elements of the Jewish community in Eastern and Central Europe. This represents a revolutionary and unprecedented innovation in the history of the kabbalistic phenomenon – and also a clear continuation of the Sabbatean-style messiah figure. The tzaddik relies on the perception that there are special individuals, distinguished by their personal holiness and wondrous knowledge they possess, and therefore their words cannot be challenged.
Obedience as a virtue
Another wave of Shi'ite influence on the Jewish sphere also occurred in the same Eastern European region. This time, it contributed to the development of Orthodoxy, or modern ultra-Orthodoxy, from the early 19th century. The driving force behind this change was the feeling of persecution among this religious public, whose characteristics are surprisingly similar to the modern Shi'ite world.
The Shi'ite imprint can be identified in several key ways. The first is the perception that there is an absolute and hidden truth originating in higher realms, known as da'at Torah. This truth applies not only to the domain defined in literature related to halakha (traditional Jewish law), such as the "Shulhan Arukh," but to all areas of life. Knowledge and access to da'at Torah are not the province of ordinary scholars, but of a limited circle known in the ultra-Orthodox world as the Gedolim (literally, the Greats). These are individuals elevated above the common people, whose stature is unattainable and certainly not to be challenged. They are perceived as the embodiment of the Torah itself, with the concept of "Torah" here representing the entirety of tradition. Hence, the unequivocal obligation to obey their words as a fundamental religious duty informing the ultra-Orthodox identity, beyond any expected benefit for those who follow their path.
The clear and innovative, institutional expression of this concept is the body called the Council of Torah Sages, whose origins predate the establishment of the State of Israel. This body centralizes those perceived as the Gedolim; their words become, in retrospect and almost automatically, the word of God. In Shi'a, the parallel institution is called the Shura Council, and its role is to represent the tradition of the imams who lived in the past and to interpret their legacy, in the absence of their actual presence.
The second element echoing the Shi'ite tradition is the repeated declaration, in ultra-Orthodox writings and propaganda since the late 19th century, that the community's leaders are immune to error. Rabbi Israel Meir (HaKohen) Kagan, also known as the Chafetz Chaim after his famous book, explained, for example, that a person who has an absolute understanding of the Torah will harbor no personal interest or bias; that is, his words are dictated by God's will and therefore, by definition, he cannot err. Even when the teachings of the Gedolim turned out to be fatal – for example, the instruction on the eve of World War II for Jews not to flee as the Germans approached – justifications for their words were found, in retrospect. This was, and still is, the subject of ultra-Orthodox historiography. Some even argued that it is preferable to heed the words of the Gedolim even if there was no "benefit" in it, because obedience itself is a religious virtue.
Finally, the third element worthy of mention in this context is the extensive propaganda designed in recent times to enhance the image of the Gedolim among broad circles. Religious propaganda has also played a central role in Islam, and especially in Shi'a, as a means of strengthening group identity. In recent decades, the writing and dissemination of literature aimed at the ultra-Orthodox public – adults, scholars, children and women alike – has greatly intensified, presenting the great sages of Israel as larger than life. The descriptions do not focus on their lives as such, but on the spiritual journey they undertook before reaching their vaunted status, in terms of Torah scholarship and worship. These stories are presented as texts to be studied and recognized, similar to other aspects of tradition. The reader cannot fully grasp the minds of the heroes of hagiographic literature, nor understand the full range of their considerations; all that remains is to set aside their own judgment before making decisions.
In Iran, as in the State of Israel since 1948, religion transitioned from the familiar and confined communal sphere to the broader framework of a modern state. This transition disrupted the balance in which religion had functioned for centuries, and largely destabilized it. In Israel, the upheaval was also intensified by the shift from a minority society, constantly forced to consider the reaction of its "non-Jewish" surroundings, to a society where Jews are a majority enjoying full sovereignty. The new sense of security under state rule overturned feelings of anxiety and caution, and brought to the surface dormant, centuries-old dreams and visions. This description is particularly true with respect to the circles described here. And once again, we encounter the irony of history: What is presented as a direct continuation of Jewish tradition through generations may actually be interpreted as a process of "Shi'itization" of Jewish culture and Israeli society.
Roni Weinstein is a historian whose work deals with the reciprocal influence between processes of modernization and religious traditions in the Jewish space.