The Talmud is important, but no one should be paid to study it - opinion

As though Ukraine doesn’t have enough problems, recently it had to deal with an onslaught of cultists for the annual pilgrimage to Rabbi Nachman of Breslov’s grave. Some 35,000 ultra-Orthodox followers descend on Uman each year to pray, although a sizable percentage also party, visit prostitutes, and get drunk or stoned.

This year several revelers were booked for drug dealing (a stash was actually found stored in a Sefer Torah). There were also the usual reports of littering, disorder, and debauchery. But what makes it worse is that you (if you live in Israel) and I are funding this fun.

Smack bang in the middle of the High Holy Days, our coalition of shame cut more money from health, defense, education, and public transport to subsidize these men, who sometimes schlep their kids along, to the tune of an additional NIS 4 million, over and above the endless handouts to religious institutions and haredi education. This windfall was legislated despite pleas from Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, who is Jewish, for hassidim to stay away this year.  Zelensky’s declaration that there were “not enough shelters in Uman for local residents, let alone foreign tourists” did not deter the intrepid bochers.

Over three years ago, in an effort to understand what my taxes are funding, I tiptoed into the Talmud, and I have religiously been doing the “daf” ever since, without missing one single day.

Why people should learn Talmud, but not get paid for it

The Daf Yomi is a system of dividing up the ancient text so that Jews all over the world study the same portion of the Talmud each day – a cycle that takes seven and a half years to complete.  It’s become a wildly popular pastime – there are podcasts, TikToks, and WhatsApp support groups – and I was interested in cranking up my spirituality and breadth of knowledge.

The Talmud is the central text of Rabbinic Judaism and contains detailed discussions that were involved in building the basis of Jewish law and theology. Originally, it was transferred orally from one generation to the next; but after the fall of the Second Temple the rabbis, faced with a people without a central place of worship, began to write the discourse down. The Jerusalem Talmud was completed in the 4th century CE in Galilee, and the Babylonian Talmud about a century later. Since then, scholars have pored over its tractates to learn every aspect of Jewish law – from agriculture to marriage to Shabbat and kashrut.

Obviously, no one in their right mind is going to take on the Talmud, certainly not me. I am enjoying my newfound knowledge and very much enjoying doing the daf. The only thing I can say, however, is that I don’t think I need to pay for anyone to spend a lifetime learning it.

In addition to such issues as the laws of damages, divorce, how to treat slaves, till the fields, light the Friday night candles, and everything in between, there are also terrific tractates that include graphic details about bodily functions, which initially surprised me. I happened to crash into the sacred text at Brachot number 24, which sees our venerable sages discussing the unpleasant eventuality of inadvertently expelling foul air during prayer (protocol: take four steps back, wait for the odor to disperse, retrace your steps, and continue with the service). The rabbis then debated whether you can sling a Shema Yisrael prayer if you wake up naked in bed and, more importantly, if you wake up naked next to someone in an equal state of undress.

And on it goes. I know, I know, I really do know that there is context to consider, and the historical times, and geopolitics through the ages. And it’s all fascinating and valuable, and I urge everyone to do the daf.

Still, I was amused, and then amazed, and ultimately enraged that the taxes on my hard-earned shekels, and those of my army-serving, tax-paying, productively working children, are being spent on stipends for boys in big black hats to study for lifetimes issues such as how certain physical attributes can be used as grounds for divorce.

The Sotah tractate goes on about women who have strayed from the bonds of marriage; and how one hundred women don’t equal two men when it comes to being counted in a prayer quorum or for a post-prandial grace. There is even discussion over whether, if a married woman talks to a man in the marketplace with her hair uncovered, she should be summarily chucked out of her marriage.

And don’t get the rabbis started on women and Torah study: Tanna Eliezer Ben Hyrcanus feared that learning Torah would impart enough wisdom to women to outwit their men. Ben Azzai, who lived a little later, went a step farther still. He worried that the merit of Talmud is known to postpone punishment, so women might study it and then stray.

As Israel started unraveling at the core, under our coalition of ultra-religious, racist, homophobic, misogynous, and messianic ministers, I was moved to write about the chaos unfolding here and reference some of our sacred texts, as well as Shakespeare, to try to make sense of the madness. Are there parallels with the Scottish king and his dearest partner of greatness, Lady Macbeth, and our very own MacBibi and his Sara? Is Israel, like Macbeth’s kingdom, alas turning into a land that is “almost afraid to know itself”? And when will the time be free?

Of course, the Talmud contains great wisdom, great insights, and great value for the Jews. I repeat: I am in favor of everyone studying it, assimilating the wisdom, and learning our great sources.

My only gripe is that it is done at my expense, for scholars who in the main don’t serve in the army or pay taxes. In my book Doing the Daf as Israel Implodes, I try to explain why.  

Pamela Peled lectures at Reichman University, peledpam@gmail.com; her book is available on Amazon at a.co/bFCZZ3Q