So, @yonahsienna has replied to an ask from ask-jumblr regarding Orthodox Judaism with a nice, nuanced answer. This answer in itself isn't what I'm here to talk about, though: instead, I mean to talk about a particular article they linked there that talks about six flavours of Orthodox Judaism. You see, I have a couple of disagreements with this article.
Firstly, it's not clarified withing this article that this taxonomy is, by and large, only relevant in the US. Other people here might disagree with me, but I remember that the impression I got from the article was that it's definitely doesn't fit the Israeli framework. That hinders my ability to criticize it, of course, since I'm Israeli. If any American Orthodox Jew would like to chime in to correct me - feel welcome to do so.
One of the things made clear early in the article is that the author already has a favourite flavour of Orthodox Judaism, and that they're not Orthodox himself most likely. I didn't check that thoroughly, so I might be wrong. But this person does seem to particularly like the Modern Orthodox group, which they consider separate from "centrist Orthodox", a more politically conservative version of the former. They lament how it appears most of the old Modern Orthodox Jews became Centrist Orthodox, which feels like explicit favouritism. In and of itself, this isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I do think it's another indicator of bias in this division.
But what really frustrates me is the gatekeeping of the term Chassidut from Chabad and Satmar. I don't know if this writer is a Chassid themself, but either way it seems like an odd thing to say. Let's start with their paragraph on Chabad:
Finally, Chabad and Satmar. One thing is clear: Chabad and Satmar, whatever else they might be, are not Chasidim. Chabad and Satmar deserve their own discussions. Suffice it to say that Chabad, a discrete group, bears no resemblance to the Chasidic Chabad in Europe a century ago. Centered on outreach and P.R., they cannot be characterized as “Chasidic.” Simply put, the Chabad of today does not do “Chasidus” — Chasidic text-study.
I included here the start of the paragraph for the sake of transparency, because I do agree with part of what they say there: Chabad and Satmar are things unto themselves that deserve conversation separately from the rest of Chassidut. The claim I find hard to agree with is that they're not Chassiduyot at all. Especially the reasoning - that Chabad bears no resemblance to the Russian Chassidut that shares their name, and that they do not study Chassidic texts. The latter of those points is demonstrably untrue, now as it was in 2014, as it was in 1911. I know that due to having studied in a high school where the Rosh Yeshiva identified as a Chabad Chassid, and due to having a Chavruta in Chassidut with a Chabadnik. But if you, for whatever reason, don't trust me and think all Chabad does is outreach and PR - go to your local Chabadnik, you know - the one who asks people to put on Tefillin? Or maybe he just operates the local Chabad house, who knows. Ask him what he learned today in khitas. Hopefully he'll understand what you're referring to, as I can't make sure you'll pronounce it right. Either way, he'll know what you're talking about - the daily study of Khumash, Tehillim, and - get this - the Tanya, a fundamental Chassidic book written by the first rabbi of Chabad. But hey, maybe that's not enough. Maybe you want more evidence - ask him if he studied this year's Bosi L(e)Gani. Chances are he did, and he will know what you're talking about, most definitely.
Still don't find that convincing? The largest event organized by Chabad in Israel includes a huge book fair of selling Chassidic books. It comes along with a couple of programs to study Chabad Chassidut writings, arranged by the same person who thought out this book fair. So where does this weird claim even comes from?
I personally see two options for that: a. Because Chabad is very much outreach-oriented ever since their last Rebbe's time, the average non-Chabad non-Orthodox Jew has no idea they do anything outside of that. This, of course, assumes the writer of this article is very much ignorant of Chabad. Which I surely hope they aren't, because it'd be unwise to write about something you don't know much about. My hypocrisy will show with the next part of this post, but bear with me for now. b. They are referring to Chabad not studying much outside their own circle of Chassidut. Which is a claim they didn't actually make, and that I'm not sure is completely true, but there's some truth to it. The aforementioned book fair is very focused on Chabad stuff - though they sell other books, they're pretty limited on that front. Those programs mentioned with the fair are also pretty much Chabad oriented, and you might note I didn't suggest you ask the local Chabadnik if he studied Likutey Muharan or Mey HaShiloakh. While those are (somewhat) well known non-Chabad Chassidic books, I won't count on the average Chabadnik to have studied them. Then again, I don't know if the average Chassid would read them if they aren't Breslov or Izhbitza-Radzin oriented. So keep that in mind.
The other claim - that Chabad today bears no resemblance to what it was in Europe a century ago - is more complicated. I thought, once, of writing a post here about the evolution of Chabad. Because they did change in the past century quite a lot. The roots of the Shluchim complex existed since the conception of Chabad, to a degree, but I think the most important development actually occured between the World Wars, during the time of Rabbi Yosef Yitzkhak of Lubavitch as the Rebbe in Soviet Russia. The anti religious nature of the Soviets led to the Rayyatz, as he is called, to send his Chassidim to support Jewish communities and studies across Russia. This is part of the reason that a large part of the funding for Dvar Malchus, a Chabad paper dedicated to the study of Chassidut, comes from rich Bucharan families: during the time of Soviet Russia, the Bucharan Jews and the Chabadnikim allied with each other to keep Judaism alive. Speaking of the Rayyatz, by the way - if you did ask the local Chabadnik about studying the aforementioned texts, ask them about the Rayyatz's Purim Sikha in Soviet Russia. Hopefully they'll know what you mean, it's rather famous and I think he was arrested after saying it. Afterwards, if the Chabadnik asks you who told you about that... IDK, find a quick solution, because "a random Israeli Orthodox Jew on the Internet" is probably not an appropriate answer.
Anyway, many changes started from there, but it's a long story. The Rayyatz coming to America was the next stage, and then he died and the latest Rebbe (z"l) took over and turned Chabad into what it is today. It was a slow development over decades, and the roots are still there. Claiming otherwise, IMO, is ignorance.
Next, let's go over their claims about Satmar. Note that I did not interact with Satmar Chassidim in my life, and barely interacted with their writings, so on that I admit ignorance. I still intend to talk about it, but I'll try focusing on things I do know. Anyway, from the article:
Satmar, a sectarian group, is also — contrary to conventional wisdom — not Chasidic. With its own distinct separationist character, Satmar is far more “yeshivish” than Chasidic. In fact, Rabbi Joel Teitelbaum — Rav “Yoilish,” who brought Satmar to America — considered himself more an Eastern European “rav” than a Chasidic “rebbe.”
That, in my opinion, is ignorant of the localised variations in Chassidut. Now, to be fair, if I'm correct then they weren't wrong to make this distinction. I'd protest calling them not Chassidic, but if it's because of similarities to Yeshivish (AKA Litvak, apparently) Jews then I get it, to a degree. But still, let's abuse this opportunity to talk about geographical differences in Chassidut!
You must be thinking, but Arch, isn't Chassidut one large things with a lot of hyper localised variations on which Rebbe you follow? Or, well, you're very likely not thinking that because you know it's not true, or expect it due to how I presented it. Eh. Anyway, it really isn't true. Chassidut is, first and foremost, a phenomenon of Eastern Europe. Beyond that, the differences between the various Chasiduyot also depend on location. A Chassidut from Poland and a Chassidut from Galicia aren't going to be the same as each other, or as Ukrainian or Russian Chassiduyot. And Satmar, importantly, is a Hungarian Chassidut.
You see, Hungary is an interesting case. It was under the Austro Hungarian empire before WWI, and this was among the more progressive countries at the time. It had its own form of early Reform movement - they were called Neologists there, apparently. That's significant because the Reform movement didn't really exist in Poland and Ukraine, or at least wasn't very prominent. The Haskalah certainly existed, as did secular Jews, but Reform was stereotypically a Yekke movement, from central-to-western Europe. Thus, the Chassidut in most places it existed - which did not include Germany or France - didn't really get head-to-head with the Reform movement. Their larger opposition was Litvakim - the predecessors to what the writer calls "Yeshivish". In Hungary, though, that wasn't the case. Also, the fact that the chief rabbi of Pressburg (now Bratislava) during the early days of Chassidut was a student of early Chassidic rabbis might have helped. I'm referring, in case you're wondering, to the Khatam Sofer, who is widely known as the founder of Ultra Orthodox Judaism. So the limits and definitions might be different - which can explain why Rav Yoilish of Satmar may have seen himself as closer to a Litvak Rav than to a Chassidic Rebbe. Still, Hungarian Chassiduyot being different from Polish Chassiduyot shouldn't mean they don't get to be called Chasiduyot anymore.
I don't currently have the peace of mind to talk about how the divisions within Orthodox Judaism work in Israel, maybe I'll elaborate in a reblog later.
