Jews often describe themselves as having a responsibility to work toward tikkun olam, the repairing of the social problems and ethical shortcomings of our time. To many Jews this is a familiar concept on both a private and communal level, but it takes on an entirely new meaning with the modern State of Israel.
The question before us here is to what extent we have a responsibility, as a Jewish democratic nation, to pursue tikkun olam on a countrywide scale.
In recent months, Israel has been faced with an opportunity to prove itself truly committed to this ideal. Waves of Sudanese refugees have been arriving weekly at the Israeli border. They hope to find in Israel the assistance and dignity denied them in their native Sudan, in Egypt and anywhere else in Africa or the Middle East.
Making their own exodus from war-ravaged Darfur, the Sudanese arrive by foot along our biblical pathway from Egypt via Sinai. And now we, the ancestors of desert wanderers, are forced to confront the true test of our Torah-guided ethic and tikkun olam philosophy: its application.
The solutions being offered here to the Sudanese refugee influx run the gamut. There are those who advocate absorbing the nearly 1,200 refugees into Israel, and those who would see them deported back to Egypt, as Israel did to 50 Darfur refugees last month.
Locating a realistic and just solution to this crisis is an immediate priority, one that should be approached by the State of Israel in a Jewish way. But who can provide us with the proper Jewish guidance in this exceptional situation?
Theoretically, this is the job of the Jewish state itself: the Knesset, the government and the courts. Practically, however, we have enough evidence to predict that these institutions will not try to approach the problem - or almost any other problem - from a uniquely Jewish perspective.
The routine Israeli practice will be, at best, to copy what other Western countries are doing: the Americans to the Mexicans, the Spanish to the North Africans and the Australians to the Indonesians. But what about tikkun olam?
In beginning to address this issue, we must recognize that the Jewish relationship to “the stranger” is clearly defined in the Torah. Precedent is clearly set as to how to treat them.
The exodus experience requires us to constantly feel like strangers and reminds us that “you should love the stranger, because you were strangers in Egypt” (Deuteronomy 10:18-19). In addition to the mitzvah to love strangers, love is mentioned only in relation to two other entities in the entire Torah: God and neighbors.
On a basic level, we can see that strangers have distinguished company and that proper treatment and respect of the stranger in our midst is of critical importance. Additionally, the proper relationship between a Jew and strangers is quite possibly the most mentioned legal or ethical issue in the entire Torah, some 35 to 40 times. We are told not to kill far fewer times.
If the biblical message is so strong and clear, then why is it not reflected in the Israeli reality? Why are Jewish ethics and norms largely silent in the Jewish state?
The blame lies in two places: Jewish history and contemporary Jewish scholars. Let me explain.
The formative years of Halakhah took place primarily when we were in exile; when we were victims of foreign rulers, not ourselves rulers over others. Therefore, only a few precedents exist for how to apply Torah teachings toward non-Jews who seek our protection. Yet with our long history of being the stranger, one might assume a keen Jewish sensitivity toward the plight of the Sudanese.
In light of these two factors, we have an opp