Monday, December 13, 2010

Women and Power: Final Paper

Feminists in Fundamentalism: Orthodox Jewish Women and Empowerment

Abstract: Feminism and fundamentalism are often perceived as mutually exclusive ideologies. Common understanding holds that one cannot be a feminist Islamicist, a feminist evangelical, a feminist Orthodox, because the fundamentalist doctrines of these ideologies require a belief in the inequality of the sexes. This paper will explore the notions of “feminism” and “fundamentalism” in two case studies in Orthodox Jewish communities. The historical and socio-cultural contexts of the enforced gender roles at the Western Wall in Jerusalem will be analyzed as they relate to feminist and fundamentalist issues and individual lives, with particular attention given to the actions of the group “Women of the Wall.” The religious and societal pressures on married Orthodox women will be explored as they relate to power relations in and out of the home, with a focus on the multiplicity of ways in which women cover. Drawing on existing literature in anthropology, religious studies, and sociology and personal experiences in Israel, we will discuss the state of women’s empowerment and equality in Orthodox Jewish communities through these two issues. As the Orthodox Jewish community will be placed in the broader contexts of Judaism and other fundamentalist movements, particular attention will be given to how “feminism” is defined, the power relations implicit in who gets to define “feminism,” and the potential clash between universal human rights and cultural relativism.


Introduction
This study seeks to address the morality issues inherent in the complex relationships between fundamentalism and feminism as they are played out in the modern Jewish state of Israel. We will address the nuances involved in determining whether or not fundamental religious beliefs and institutions oppress women, confronting the debate between the universality of human rights and cultural relativism. The perception of “feminism” and “Orthodox Judaism” as mutually exclusive will be challenged.
We will first speak broadly to the interactions between fundamentalism and feminism, highlighting the multiplicity of relationships between varied ideologies. We will then discuss Jewish, Orthodox, and women’s experiences in Israel, presenting our understandings of these multifaceted identities and histories.
This paper will show that Jewish Orthodox women confront feminism and fundamentalism in a variety of ways in contemporary Israel. The ways in which Orthodox women interact with the tradition of hair-covering and the gender roles enforced at the Western Wall demonstrate that they believe in their own agency rather than feeling disempowered as some Western feminists perceive them to be.

Background
Feminism and Fundamentalism
Fundamentalist and feminist ideologies intersect in a number of different ways. Fundamentalism can work on feminism. This is seen regularly in the United States when evangelical, right-wing Christians ostracize females who attend college. This “fundamentalism on feminism” is perhaps the first thing the average American will think of when hearing these two words together: the apparent women’s oppression common in fundamentalist ideologies. Conversely, feminism on fundamentalism refers to feminist reactions to this perceived oppression. Hirschkind and Mahmoood’s “Feminism, the Taliban, and Politics of Counter-Insurgency ” discusses the role of Western feminism on a fundamentalist Islamic regime. Feminists assert themselves and their ideologies of women’s rights on other cultures and peoples.
We can also see interconnections in feminism and fundamentalism when exploring women in fundamentalist groups, feminists in fundamentalist groups, and fundamentalist in feminism. In chapter 3 of Participation and Protest, “Women and Revolutionary Movements,” Henderson and Jeydel explore the role of women in fundamentalist campaigns. Henderson and Jeydel assert that, oftentimes, women in revolutions are focused more on the goals of the revolution than strictly feminist objectives. This connects to their earlier assertion that not all discourses about women are feminist discourses. Being a woman activist does not make you a feminist. At the same time, being a woman in fundamentalist movement does not necessarily mean you cannot be a feminist. It is on this that we will focus in this paper: feminists in fundamentalism.
All too often, Western media is filled with images of female suicide bombers as the only depiction of feminist fundamentalists. International media and academic discourses tend to focus only on the “obvious,” the “biggies.” But one of the most problematic elements of gendered power structures is the way they become so fully ingrained into culture that they affect every individual in every aspect of private and public life. Gendered power does not affect only the obvious and the big. It affects every person, everywhere, every day. Thus it is crucial that feminist discourses take into consideration the voice of the “everyday.” It is this that we hope to achieve in this paper: A glimpse into feminist fundamentalists whose stories often go untold in international discourse because they are not sensational enough. Yet it is the quiet feminist fundamentalists who are the majority. Female suicide bombers are not the crux of any fundamentalist movement. We believe that the following discourse, one on feminist fundamentalist women in the everyday, is the minority in discussions about fundamentalism and feminism, and yet we believe it speaks to the majority of women in fundamentalist societies more than majority sensationalist media does.

Jewish Orthodox Women in Israel
There are three main movements within Judaism: Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform. The Orthodox branch is the most conservative of the three and our focus for this study. Conservative or “Masorti” Judaism holds the middle ground, working to uphold Jewish law while embracing modernity. Reform or “Renewal” Judaism is the most progressive of the three. Orthodox Judaism does not allow women to read from the Torah aloud or lead prayer services. Conservative Judaism varies in its acceptance of women’s leadership: Some congregations allow women to read from the Torah and many rabbinical schools will ordain women; others resemble Orthodox communities in their gender roles. Reform Judaism regularly ordains women, including open and practicing lesbians. (The inclusion of the queer community in Conservative Judaism, like the inclusion of women, varies by congregation.)
The Jewish people is diasporic. There are conservative, Orthodox Jews from and in the Middle East, Africa, Latin America, and other regions of the world. However, this study will focus on the Ashkenazi (of Eastern European descent) Haredi (ultra-Orthodox; plural: Haredim) Jews currently living in Israel. This is not to say that other communities are less fundamentalist or less Jewish; instead, it signifies the continuing power structures found in Israel’s and Judaism’s race and class systems. The European Jew, historically, has held more power than the African, Latin American, and Middle Eastern Jew (just as the European Christian has held more power than the African, Latin American, and Middle Eastern Christian).
In Judaism, the ultra-Orthodox Haredim refers to a community of Jews who focus on the continued observance of Jewish customs, seeing traditional practices as laws of the Torah that are binding through the ages. Ultra-Orthodoxy, the most conservative subset of the Orthodox community, is concerned with preserving Judaism against the changes of modernity. Haredi Judaism began in late 18th century Europe as a response to the Enlightenment and pressure to assimilate into a Christian, science-based culture. To preserve culture (which they saw as one and the same with their religion), the Haredi essentially “froze” three things: name, language, and dress. The Haredi community in Israel speaks Yiddish to this day; many of them refuse to speak Hebrew unless used in worship or Torah (Hebrew Bible) study and may not know English. Because of the freeze on dress, Haredi Jews are easy to pick out in Israel due to their full suits, conservative dress, sideburn curls, and fur hats. They are (not-so-affectionately) nicknamed “penguins” by many Israelis.
As we are claiming our paper deals with issues of fundamentalism while mostly addressing ultra-Orthodox women, we must account for the classification of ultra-Orthodox Judaism as “fundamental.” It is important to realize that fundamentalism is a Western idea that began as a descriptor of certain Christian groups. Thus it is with some hesitation that we call ultra-Orthodox Judaism in Israel a “fundamentalism;” however, the ultra-Orthodox group is the most conservative of the Jewish sects and thus in many ways parallels Christian evangelicals in the United States. The ultra-Orthodox community would not be analogous to the stereotypical suicide bomber Islamicist “fundamental” dominating Western media; this designation would go to militant Zionists who have used and currently use violent terrorist tactics to further the existence of a Jewish state (like in Islamicist movements, some of these militant Zionists are motivated more by a politico-cultural objective than a religious ideology). It should be noted, though, that many a Haredi Jew in Israel would not identify as a fundamentalist; instead simply saying “I’m a good Jew.”
Because the modern commercialized world is rejected by the Haredim, there is abject poverty in many ultra-Orthodox communities. This is exacerbated by the Haredi commitment to study Torah. Many men, rather than working paid jobs, spend their lives in the synagogue or bet midrash (house of study) reading and debating Torah. This cultural practice means that women are generally the family’s sole bread-winner. While this can place a “double burden” on women, also responsible for childrearing, it also gives them an incredible amount of power over the home, children, and society in general.

A “Jewish” State
The extent to which Israel is a “Jewish” state is a subject of much debate, in and out of Israel. The majority of the modern state’s founders were not overtly religious, instead seeing the concept of “Jewish” as a national and racial issue. The modern state of Israel is, in some ways, secular and there is, to some extent, a separation of church and state. However, the state hands authority for several public institutions over to various religious organizations. There is no civil marriage in Israel. (Within the country, one can be married by a Jewish, Christian, or Muslim authority as they are recognized by the state, and the nation will recognize marriages from all other countries, but one cannot have a non-religious wedding in Israel.) Food services and institutions receiving funding from the state must keep kosher (Jewish dietary restrictions). And the Western Wall in the Old City of Jerusalem is entirely under the authority of the Orthodox Jewish Rabbinate.
Why is this? How has a generally secular, Western, developed country come to have so many aspects of its life ruled by a conservative, fundamentalist religious institution? The answer lies in Israel’s history. The state declared itself on May 14th, 1948. The majority of Orthodox Jews living in their Holy Land at the time were against Zionism and the founding of the state. For Orthodox Jews, it is to God and God alone to restore the Jewish people to statehood in the land. Self-declaration of statehood was seen by the Orthodox community as a usurpation and dismissal of God’s authority. The Zionist leaders desperately needed the Orthodox to not loudly object to the Jewish State for political reasons; to keep the Haredim relatively quiet, they agreed that certain parts of the State would be in Orthodox control. The infamous “Status Quo Agreement” promised the Haredi would not oppose Zionism to international political actors; in return, they were promised autonomy in education, the observance of Shabbat and Kosher in the public sphere, military exemption, and religious control over marriage.
Today, the parliamentary republic government of Israel continues to give a great deal of voice to the Orthodox Rabbinate. This apparent endorsement of Orthodox Judaism by the only Jewish state has the effect of delegitimizing other interpretations of Judaism and how outsiders view Judaism and the Jewish State. Increasingly, though, there is disapproval of Orthodoxy’s power by other Jews and Israelis. Because of their general poverty, the ultra-Orthodox receive a greatly disproportionate level of welfare funding from the State, causing a large deal of resentment from other communities. Public organizing is ever more pushing harder for civil marriage, the elimination of mandatory kosher rules, etc. For the present, though, the Orthodox Rabbinate rules. And it does not appear that this will change in the near future.


Israel and Women Rights in Comparative Perspective
Israel ranks very high in global development indices for gender equality. In 2010, it was ranked fifteenth (soundly beating the United Kingdom). It is the highest-ranked Middle Eastern country (Egypt currently holds position 101).4 While no data is available for Lebanon in 2010; in 2009, it held position 83 compared to Israel’s 27 and Egypt’s 123. Egypt and Lebanon both also have fundamentalist movements involving women and women’s issues (in Egypt, the Islamic Revival and Women’s Mosque Movement; in Lebanon, Hizbullah, the Party of the Deprived and the Martyrs’ Association). Both in gender equality indices and in media coverage, Islamic women’s movements seem to be portrayed more in the negative than do Jewish. Part of this may be the result of Israel’s careful distinctions between state and religious authority, traditionally less clear in Islamic countries (at least through Western eyes). This also presumably has foreign policy and politico-economic causal factors. While these are too nuanced and politically-charged to discuss in detail here, it is important to bear in mind that these sources, including supposedly objective United Nations-generated data, are not free of bias. Women and women’s rights are often used as a political argument for international and outsider involvement in national sovereignty; the fact that all instances of women’s oppression are not given equal attention is an indicator that other political motivations are involved. Though it is in some countries, pressure is not placed internationally on Israel to “liberate” its “oppressed” Orthodox women. This does not mean that the West does not see Orthodoxy as oppressive. “Traditional orthodox Judaism dictates distinct, gender-determined roles and positions. Men and women are believed to be essentially different, with different natures, spiritual paths, and legal statuses. Women are seen primarily as domestic beings, whereas all public and official leadership roles (rabbis, cantors, judges, circumcisers, and ritual slaughterers) are the province of men.” That Western discourses portray Orthodox women as oppressed without trying to empower them greatly impacts the way Haredi women experience their state, their world, and their own agency.


Methodology
In summer 2010, one of this paper’s co-authors, Rebecca Farnum, studied abroad in Israel. Her trip was sponsored by the Michigan State University Office of Study Abroad and Jewish Studies Program. She was instructed by Eric Aronoff (“Nature, Culture, and Environmental Sustainability in a Green Israel”), Yael Aronoff (“Israeli Politics and Society”), and David Mendelson (“The Emergence of the Modern Jewish State”). Farnum lived and traveled in Israel for seven weeks, speaking with a variety of people and seeing most of the country’s currently-held territory. Her study included an exploration of the relationships between the state of Israel, the Orthodox Jewish community, and international tourism. Farnum’s field notes and experiences informed the majority of the background for this study; occurrences and interactions that took place during the field experience helped to shape the focus of the study.
Concerns over Western perceptions of women involved in fundamental religious communities and minimal attention to the lives of Jewish women brought us to the following research question:
How is “feminism” understood and enacted by Orthodox women as they participate in the gender roles enforced at the Western Wall and the practice of hair covering?
These two case studies allow us to explore women’s experiences at two different levels of authority and community. The case of the Western Wall is one of the state, formal religious institutions and authority, and public space. Hair covering is a much more individualized practice that affects women everyday and in every space, public and private.
To address these issues, we have reviewed ethnographic and academic data from Farnum’s travels in Israel and performed a literature search on sources such as JSTOR and anthrosource. Keywords included “orthodox,” “women,” “Judaism,” “hair,” “veil,” “wall,” and “kotel” (the Hebrew name for the Western Wall). Articles returned from these sources were skimmed for usefulness. Those with promising abstracts and introductions were selected for further review and incorporation into the paper. In selecting, we worked to include both the views held by Orthodox women regarding their own lives and movements and the perceptions of non-Orthodox Jewish women and non-Jewish feminists about Orthodox women’s lives.
Possible limitations of this study include the brevity of Farnum’s travels and the biases of those with whom she interacted, most of who were fairly liberal. Formal interviews were not conducted with Orthodox women, though a documentary containing interviews conducted by sociologists was viewed.
In regards to the literature search, potential problems lie in the power structures present in the Jewish Orthodox community and in academic publishing systems, resulting in the fact that our sources were written by non-Orthodox authors, some of whom are not religiously Jewish. This was exacerbated by the fact that our literature search was limited to English articles. Since most Orthodox Jews read and write only Polish and/or Hebrew, our language limitations may have seriously impacted our conclusions.

Women of the Wall: Unity in Division
Brief History of the Wall
In order to contextualize the gendered battle that the Women of the Wall has fought in recent years, it is important to frame the issues present at the Wall. The Western Wall is under the jurisdiction of the Orthodox Rabbinate, not the State. Within Haredi Judaism it is not considered appropriate for women to pray in groups, with prayer shawls or to read out of the Torah and as a result women are permitted to engage in these activities. Additionally, women are segregated into the smaller section without access to what is regarded as the holiest section of the Wall (Figure 1).
Figure 1. The Gendered Segregation of the Western Wall

A) The women’s section of the Wall;
B) The partition between the men and women’s sections of the Wall;
C) The men’s section of the Wall, including the holiest part in the center.
Since much of the resistance that the WOW has received is related to a long standing custom and history related to the traditions at the Wall, it is important to also problematize this claim in order to remove historical evidence from the pool of validation for the Haredi community. In his article “The Political Transformation of Gender Traditions at the Western Wall in Jerusalem,” Stuart Charmè dissects the history of the Wall showing that despite the assumption by many that regulations such as gender segregation are historically founded, “they are in fact relatively recent innovations to earlier practices observed at the Wall.” In actuality, the Wall has only been under Jewish authority since 1967 and these “customs” and “traditions” are not as established as the rabbinate would have the community at the Wall believe.

Profile of Women of the Wall
The Women of the Wall make up an organization which, according to their website, advocates for “the social and legal recognition of [their] right, as women, to wear prayer shawls, pray and read from the Torah collectively and out loud at the Western Wall.” It is worth noting that they are not challenging the segregation of men and women at the Wall, which has been largely contested by feminists who have addressed gendered issues there. This distinction can be largely attributed to their careful attention to the halacha (Jewish law) and texts in order to act within the fundamental jurisdiction. The Women take the stance that this is not an issue which prevents them from the prayer that they are seeking the right to practice, which results in the alienation of women who find this integration important to their method of prayer, but does open the goals of the WOW up to be more attractive to the strict Haredi Jewish community. According to Susan Sered, an anthropologist specializing in religious and gender studies, “the Women of the Wall consistently seek legitimacy not on the basis of sexual quality, but on the basis of halachic acceptability.” She also notes that they do not challenge the concrete teachings of Judaism and as a result “they do not recite certain prayers which can only be said by a minyan (quorum) of ten adult men.1”1 In terms of fundamental versus feminist, this approach seems to point to a careful compliance with the fundamental while pursuing an advancement of women's role in religious observance.
As far as the myriad of types of women and degrees of halachic observance, the WOW spans denominational and political boundaries. According to Bonna Devora Haberman, founder of the WOW, “Our group ran the gamut of young radical feminists to Orthodox halakhically observant traditionalists.” This variation is also represented on the WOW website which displays the affiliation of individuals varying from Progressive/Reform to Orthodox Jews who have all joined the Statement of Support for the cause. It has been suggested by Phyllis Chesler, Professor Emerita of Psychology and Women's Studies at City University of New York, that this variety allows the WOW's type of activism to be revolutionary “in that it brings Jewish women of every denomination together and gives Orthodox women access to public group prayer as only Orthodox men and non-Orthodox Jews currently enjoy it.” Their goals are intimately connected to their ability to fully express their piety, and this specific objective comes into play in their interactions with the opposition, which exist both on the Haredi side and on the self-proclaimed “feminist” side.

Resistance from Both Sides of the Issue
The WOW struggles with acceptance from both the fundamentalist and the feminist realm because they are perceived as making concessions on both sides. Charmè notes that “on the one hand, most Orthodox women did not support this group or its demand for change; on the other hand, many non-Orthodox Jewish feminists who supported truly egalitarian services complained that this approach conceded the entire system of Orthodox gender separation.”

Resistance by the Haredim
Addressing first the criticisms of the Haredi perspective which supports the status quo at the Wall, there is a disparity between what the rabbinate which controls the Wall gives as the reasoning for their resistance and what is assumed by scholarly analysis of the situation. The rabbi in charge of of the Western Wall has repeatedly referenced accepted customs and acceptable conduct as justification for their resistance. It has been stated that “even if there are opinions in halacha that allow a woman to wear tsitsit [the ritual fringe attached to a tallit], the custom is not to let women wear tsitsit and there is no place to change this custom...” There is some confusion even within the discourse among the Haredim as to why the women are unable to pray freely. Frances Raday, leading human rights and feminist academic, addresses the weakness that arises through this inconsistency by stating “it is considered by many Orthodox rabbinical authorities to be prohibited by halacha, or, even if it is not, to constitute an impermissible deviation from the custom of the place (the Kotel).” Additionally, the Religious Establishment been explicit in stating their unwillingness to “enter into halachic discourse with the Women.” Their opposition doesn’t seem to be united behind a solvent reasoning, which gives weight to the assumption of scholars such as Charmè, Sered and Raday that their regulations reflect a means to reinforce an environment fueled by “patriarchal hegemony” rather than supporting religious doctrine or expectations.19, ,
However, this brings up the question: If the Haredi argument is convoluted, why has WOW experienced so much resistance and difficulty in implementing their changes? This can be explained first by the political authority which the Haredi community has been slotted by the Israeli government. But, on a more individual level, it is an issue complicated by the presence of “women” as a symbol at the Wall. This is an idea which Susan Sered addresses, comparing the gendered issues at the Wall with other gendered issues within Israel. Sered concludes that, in other cases, women are viewed as agents; the perception of women as a symbol in the Wall situation makes it unique and a gendered battle. One example she uses to explain how this affects the ability for women to enact change is that in the United States women as agents have been able to concretely win the political battle for equality, but on a symbolic level they are still abused through situations such as exploitative advertising. Due to the construction of the Wall as an inherently sacred landmark, the roles associated with it are protected in the minds of those who observe it as precious and demanding protection from change. Sered notes that “the conflict was interpreted as a challenge to sacred power, and religious fundamentalists responded violently - as if to a revolution. ” In attempting to challenge traditions which are not necessarily founded in the basis of religious reasoning, women are still faced with a rigid wall of established customs which weave themselves into the language of fundamental religious law. These reactions from those attempting to maintain the status quo are often very strong because, according to Haberman, “these innovations cause fear and opposition among those who are invested with the authority of the holy text, the ones who consider their own interpretations to be authoritative. ” As a result “The point is that those in power are more likely to be able to package their version of tradition as ‘true.’ Given the outsider status of the Women of the Wall, they are in a poor position to be able to present their view of tradition in a persuasive way.”
WOW has responded to this resistance with perseverance. They reiterate that their actions are supported by halacha and continue to attend the Wall monthly and attempt to pray in their aforementioned method. Additionally, they petitioned to gain support from the state to protect them when they pray, but this was met with very little support and was ultimately unsuccessful due to the halachic control of the Wall. Haberman points out the lengths WOW went to to maintain peace between themselves and the Haredi community. After a particular occasion when they encountered a violent response they discussed when they could come back in a less abrasive way, reciting the prayers without actually reading from the Torah and without the prayer shawls. They also embraced praying with people of different degrees of religious observance, Haberman states that “Women of the Wall harbored no objection to praying alongside our ultra-Orthodox siblings. We respected their views and interpretations; we upheld their freedom to practice according to their convictions.” In this way, they are able to make their method of resistance take the form of benevolence and welcoming in an attempt to encourage a co-existence, although this proved to be ultimately unsuccessful thus far in changing the opinions of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish community.

Resistance by Self-Proclaimed “Feminists”
On the other side of the issue, often the more liberal Jewish feminists have not been accepting of the WOW agenda either. In this case it is a less active opposition and more an acknowledgment of the absence of support where it might be assumed due to the nature of the issues which challenge gender roles and the assumed customs associated with them. Phyllis Chesler, Professor of Psychology and active member of the WOW, experienced a series of disappointments in terms of feminist women that she assumed would support her cause, “it took [her] a while to understand that [their] struggle had no 'natural' constituency. ” Due to the complications of combining a feminist agenda with a fundamental religious structure, the WOW drastically narrows their potential member base. That being said, their openness to anyone who agrees to their mission statement frees up some of the limitations on other aspects of involvement. The main critique of Jewish feminists is that the WOW makes no attempt to integrate the Wall so that women can pray with men and have access to the center of the Wall, its holiest section. Some feminists who took this stance view the actions of the WOW as counterproductive. One such criticism by Judith Plaskow was published in Tikkun magazine and pointed out that because the WOW fights for segregated prayer with the equal rights of men it didn't go far enough in challenging the patriarchy and that it “sacrificed egalitarian principles to Orthodox principles, and that we would never ‘win by playing thing safe.’” In contrast to the careful consideration for respect and religious jurisdiction, Charmé asserts that “liberal Jews make no attempt to preserve all aspects of Orthodox worship.”
Much of the basis of the feminist opposition is that it isn't a strong enough stance to be empowering and that it doesn't allow enough freedom for the women at the Wall. Chesler asserts that “the act of women praying with a Torah at the Kotel has the power to psychologically transform the way Jewish women see themselves and each other.”28 She also argues that this freedom to practice religion freely and autonomously will lead women to see that they are “entitled to spiritual as well as physical and economic autonomy and integrity.” These statements imply an ideology based on the importance of small steps towards gender equality for the ends of complete worship rather than the motivation of gender equality itself and that this still leaves room for acquiring strength through the process. Also, along the lines of the criticism they receive for not reaching a level of egalitarian worship, Chesler counters this by asserting that they are the “only multidenominational and pluralist prayer group among Jews, that male Jews of different denominations do not pray together—anywhere, not even at the Kotel.” This unique perspective shows the advantage of uniting feminist and religious agendas in that it opens both issues up to a broader spectrum of potential members with which to establish solidarity, and this in itself has the potential for gaining power through this community.

Use (or Avoidance) of “Feminist” as a Label
Since most of this analysis has functioned within the assumption that the WOW is fighting for a feminist agenda, it is important to look at their avoidance of this word in describing themselves. This is rooted in a few different motivations based both on their personal goals and their reputation in the community. As far as their own goals, they make an effort to frame their actions not as gendered but as religiously based, they pushed for rights to which they argue they are entitled through the statements of the Torah. Sered states that “they compare their own ‘rights’ not to the ‘rights’ of men, but to the ‘rights’ of other women who come to pray at the Wall.”
On a broader scale, within the realm of Israeli culture feminist discourse is not regarded as popular. Sered asserts that “publicly, the Women rarely make feminist comments” and this functions to distance themselves from a movement which, if they associated themselves with, would end up alienating more people than it would attract. Because there are presumptions culturally about what this word means, it is something they want to distance themselves from in order to pursue their overall goals.
Despite the absence of the word itself, the Women are fighting for a feminist agenda. Sered explains that the WOW identifies as liberal feminists, but they don’t advertise this publicly “because liberal feminism is an unrecognized political stance in Israeli society.” It is possible that this circumvention of a term may remove their presence from the overarching solidarity of an international feminist community. However, within the realm of their political agenda it is more important to be a sympathetic entity in their interactions with the Haredi authority at the Wall which would be critical of this term in the context of their fundamental beliefs.

Covering Her Hair
Tzniut: The Codification of Covering
The archetype of the oppressed Muslim female is a woman dressed head-to-toe in black. The practice of veiling in Islam is regularly criticized as “anti-feminist” and a blight on women’s rights. Less publically condemned is a similar practice in Orthodox Judaism, in which a woman upon entering marriage covers her hair in public.
The idea of covering women’s hair is a part of the Jewish ideal of “tzniut,” or modesty. Whether or not women are required by Biblical law to cover their hair is a subject of debate amongst Jewish scholars and teachers. In the Talmud, the codified source of Jewish law, hair covering is classified as a “law of Moses,” declaring it a law of Torah, and thus unchangeable. Scholars have challenged this classification, but the majority of ultra-Orthodox women still believe it to be necessary for the proper observation of Judaism.
Women cover their hair in a variety of ways. What is done generally depends on the community in which a woman grew up, the one in which she lives now, and the status and beliefs of her husband. Some women wear the sheitel, or wig; others, the snood, a hair net that fits the head snugly; others, bandanas or hats. In some communities, a woman’s hair is shaved entirely on her wedding day. It is worth mentioning that the snood, perhaps the most iconic of Orthodox women, originated in Europe and was worn by the majority of women, not only Jewish wives. These different methods are also debated; some rabbis and scholars believe a wig is as inappropriate as uncovered hair. This argument stems from the idea of tziniut: If the point of covering your hair is modesty, fake hair does not eliminate the problem. Hair covering can be seen as purposeful non-beauty.
In “From veil to wig: Jewish women’s hair covering,” Leila Bronner discusses the Biblical, Talmudic, and historic practices surrounding hair. In many places, the Torah discusses the beauty and ornamental qualities of women’s hair. The Talmud, however, “not only regarded women’s hair as beautiful, but as erotic; and for that reason it had to be covered.”
It is not explicitly laid out in the Bible that married women must cover their hair; however, there are multiple examples of women who cover their hair for modesty’s sake. Thus, if you believe modesty to be a clear law of Judaism, hair covering becomes a logical rule to follow. Much less clear from a reading of the Torah, though, is why it is only married women whose hair should be covered. In today’s Jewish communities, this marks a transition in life (analogous to the fact that Muslim women do not generally begin wearing hijab or covering themselves until puberty, another major life stage transition). The Bible, however, has examples of unmarried women whose hair is covered. In short, “the Bible presents little information, only suggesting that some covering might have been worn, as was customary throughout the ancient Near East. In the Rabbinic Period, the practice became obligatory.”36 This brings into question whether the practice is “truly Jewish” or merely a custom. For the ultra-Orthodox Haredim, though, there is no clear distinction between the two, as evidenced by their eastern European black suits in the middle of the Middle Eastern desert (suits in no way prescribed by the Torah). Important in the study of how ultra-Orthodox women respond to the hair covering law is not whether or not an outside scholar determines the practice is or is not Biblical, but rather the fact that Haredi women believe the practice to be a vital part of their faith.

Women Who Cover Their Hair
In the Haredi communities of Israel, virtually every married woman covers her hair in some way. They do this in a variety of ways, which will be discussed in the “Pushing Standards” section. Outside of ultra-Orthodox Judaism, there is great variety. Most modern Orthodox (the most liberal of the Orthodox sects) women generally do not cover their hair unless in Temple. The same for conservative Jews; in more liberal congregations of Conservative Judaism, women are not required to cover in Temple either. Most Reform Jewish congregations have no requirements. That the more “liberal” you get in Judaism, the less likely you are to cover your head signals that women see hair covering as a custom of patriarchal culture rather than the Jewish religion. Most Jewish women who do not cover claim that covering is a sexist practice, against women’s rights and anti-egalitarian. These arguments will be fleshed out in “Arguments against Covering.”
Sherri Vishner, a conservative Jew in Florida, is one of an increasing number of Jewish women who wear the kippah, the skull cap traditionally worn by men. “I don’t wear my kippah because I want to be a man and I also don’t wear one because I think all women should.” She does, however, assert that she wears “the kippah for the same reasons a man wears one – to show that God is above us and to remind them that I am a Jew. I believe that these concepts are not limited to men. I believe in God and appreciate the daily, visible reminder of my Judaism.” Her final statement demonstrates her belief that differences in hair covering have been sexist: “Just because men have traditionally held a monopoly on the kippah does not mean this symbol must remain a symbol of gender inequality.” Her comments bring up a number of issues. For some, wearing the kippah is a sign of egalitarianism. Counter-arguments to this emerging practice can assert that women’s wearing the kippah is not egalitarian, but rather an attempt to erase valuable sex/gender differences and/or to have women enter into a male form of subjectivity. Some feminists are very careful to show that feminism is not about making women into men. Women’s wearing the kippah can be a challenge for them. On the other hand, Vishner fairly clearly feels empowered by wearing the kippah and regards it as a sign of her faith, not of her subjectivity to any other human being.

Feminism on Fundamentalism: Arguments against Covering
Feminist debates on tzniut explore whether or not the concept of “modesty” is inherently patriarchal. If “[m]odesty laws in rabbinic literature functionally acted to render the woman inaccessible and unavailable to all but her husband,” without doing the same to men, surely tziniut practices and laws are problematically sexist. In this line of thinking, hair covering can simply be another way in which men attempt to control women’s sexuality. Many non-Orthodox feminists argue that covering is inherently patriarchal. Scholarly debates about the origins of hair covering can convincingly prove that the custom began culturally (in a patriarchal culture) rather than religiously and thus should not continue, as it furthers sexism in a religious “really” intended to be egalitarian.
A Reform Jewish woman, then, might argue that she is “more capable” of being feminist than a Haredi. After all, she can be a rabbi, she can wear a kippah if she chooses, and she does not cover her hair at all times or wear any other symbol intending to show her enslavement to her husband. Some responses to these claims are discussed below in “Arguments for Covering.”

Feminism in Fundamentalism: Arguments for Covering
There are several arguments given in fundamentalism as to how covering and veiling helps to empower women. In a world of objectification, covering can be a forceful reminder to see women not as objects but as persons with diverse inner beauties.
As a purely practical manner, many Jewish women who choose to cover praise it as a time saver: “if I’m in a hurry and don't have time to brush my hair in the morning, it actually saves me time!” Women who cover have no need to spend time in the morning carefully brushing and styling their hair, allowing them to spend time on other (arguably more important) matters.
Jewish scholars have classified women’s hair as part of nakedness.- Men cannot pray or speak the words of the Torah while viewing nakedness; thus, in order for a man to worship, any woman within site must be covered. Though this line of thinking may be considered patriarchal or objectifying, it also gives an incredible amount of power over men to women. Because staring at nakedness is a sin, a woman whose hair is uncovered can essentially force men to sin. Covering does not only allow her to be a good Jew, but enables the people around her to worship God properly. This means she can take away that privilege should she choose to do so – the law works both ways and puts men in a vulnerable position.
Orthodox Judaism has a strong commitment to the continuation of what is “Jewish.” Non-Jews, at one time, also covered their hair. The average European and American no longer do so; if Jewish women were to discontinue covering their hair, they would be following the lead of non-Jews. This is seen as inappropriate and a lessening of religious values. Thus, women who cover their hair can be seen as having power against a Gentile world that has been traditionally hostile to Judaism.
The double-edged sword that is covering as a sign of sexual purity is well said by Rousselle, a cultural historian quoted by Bronner: “Although the veil was a symbol of subjection, it was also a badge of honor, of sexual reserve, and hence of mastery of the self.” This “mastery of self” is a commendation of women who have power not only over others, but over themselves. A key part of many religions is sacrificial abstaining from various bodily (“earthly”) desires. Individuals who practice this self-discipline well are viewed with great respect by their religious communities.
Thus, feminist arguments can be made for hair covering: it restricts the objectification of women, it allows a woman to spend her time on projects more valuable than her body’s appearance, it gives her power over men, it gives her power against other religions, and it allows her to practice her own faith more fully while gaining the respect of her community.

Feminism in Fundamentalism: Pushing Standards
Though Haredi women have been covering their hair since the movement began in Eastern Europe; how they have covered has gone through a great deal of change. Wigs have become a common form of hair covering, in addition to cloth and other materials. The wig came to Jewish communities by non-Jews (particularly the French in the 16th century).42 Its arrival created debate in the community. Did wearing a wig defeat the purpose of hair covering? Even if the rabbinical authorities ruled that wearing a wig was an acceptable form of hair covering, the fact that wigs have purpose and value outside of Judaism created a potential problem, as it was a version of assimilation, and thus a threat to Orthodoxy. Over time, though, the wig became used by more and more women, and rabbinical rulings bowed to their practice. This historical example shows how women have agency in their own practices and traditions. The women who wore wigs were not mass slaughtered or excommunicated; rather, the ruling patriarchal institution eventually changed to accommodate their actions as they continued quietly exerting their agency.
Today, few Orthodox Jews deny the appropriateness of wig-wearing as a form of hair covering. However, a new issue has emerged. A film by Israeli sociologists Yanay Ofran and Oren Harman provides some insight into the lives of Haredi women in 2007. The documentary addresses the fact that increasing numbers of Haredi are wearing “sexy wigs.” These wigs are styled in very modern and popular haircuts.
These “sexy wigs” are contested by many a religious and community leader. Does not wearing an attractive wig defeat the purpose of hair covering? If the religious argument for covering hair is modesty and women are covering with sexy wigs that will either draw or not detract attention, how is their action one of tziniut? The enhanced attention from women to popular hair styling and the need for stylish wigs appears to be modern consumerism, something Orthodox Judaism actively works to combat.
A complex question arises here: Is using a sexy wig feminist? On one hand, the sexy wig is empowering, as it allows individual women to push boundaries, expressing themselves while remaining true to what they see as important religious practices. On the other hand, the apparent need to be pretty seems to further and legitimize the objectification of women, which seems to be anti-feminist and disempowering. Bronner and other authors, though, speak about women’s “legitimate claim to the right to make themselves attractive.” The use of modern-looking wigs not only allows Haredi women to feel attractive, it also allows them to move about in greater society without being instantaneously judged by non-Orthodox individuals. As more and more Orthodox women are working outside the home to provide financial support, this can be helpful and empowering. Women who continue to wear attractive wigs while insisting they are carrying out the religious law are declaring their agency by interpreting Jewish laws for themselves and finding a faith practice that fits their lives and wishes.
Being Uncovered
Pushing at the other end of covering standards, some women are taking on the “sal.” Around one hundred Jerusalem women are now covering more than the average Orthodox wife. Some cover their entire face except their eyes. The resemblance to more extreme versions of the Islamic veil is strong: So strong that some Jews cannot tell the difference. “Some people are rude — they shout things at me because they think I am Arab,” says one sal-wearer. The speaker lives in Beit Shemesh, a western Jerusalem neighborhood known for its Haredi population. (While in Israel, Farnum’s cab driver during a drive to Beit Shemesh asked why she was going to see the “penguins,” grumbling about their customs and the way they feed off the state.) Jewish women are “claiming back” their tradition from Muslims. “The full body, or full face covering that people think is only part of the Arab world actually started with Jewish women,” said another woman.45 For this woman, Muslims threaten Jews’ position by wearing more modest dress: “The truth is that the women of Israel are lessening in God's eyes because the Arabs are more modest in dress. If the Jews want to conquer the Arabs in this land they must enhance their modesty.”
Men are not encouraging women to wear the sal. Instead, most men criticize the custom. “Many women have stopped wearing the sal because of pressure from their husbands or rabbis,” said the second speaker, who herself no longer wears the sal due to familial pressure. In this case, it seems that women are being pressured not to cover, but to uncover. This can be as great an affront to women’s empowerment as forceful covering. A liaison between the ultra-Orthodox in Beit Shemesh and its political leadership, Chevy Weiss, speaks well to why women are taking on the sal: “If that is what these women need to do to feel a stronger connection to God, I have respect for them.”45 A sal-wearer affirms this statement: “In my heart I know this is what God wants me to wear. God willing, more women will see the truth.”45

Orthodykes: The Heterosexism of Hair Covering and Gendered Piety
The documentary “Trembling before G-d” highlights some of the issues homosexual Orthodox Jews face in Orthodox institutions. It mentions “Orthodykes,” a group of lesbian women in Israel who identify as Jewish Orthodox. These women face struggles of a seemingly patriarchal and heterosexist institution while truly feeling that they belong as a member of that community. The movie interviews a number of Orthodox lesbian women, some of whom have life partners. These women do not cover their hair…after all, they are not married.
It is worth mentioning that nearly all men in Orthodox communities also engage in some form of hair covering (best-known is the kippah, or yarmulke; ultra-Orthodox Haredi men generally wear the same fur hats they did in Eastern Europe centuries ago). The idea of “tziniut” does not apply only to women, but rather is heteronormatively gendered in how it applies to men and women differently. In this way, it is perhaps more heterosexist than sexist, assuming that certain body parts of men will distract women and vice versa, heteronormatively defining what is “modest.”

“Liberating” Hair
In modern America, many a non-religious bride wears a veil on her wedding day. The majority of these women, we presume, do not believe they are entirely submitting to their husbands or see their gorgeous bridal ensemble as an anti-feminist act. Is it right, then, that we assume Orthodox women’s hair covers are oppressive, signify submission, and are anti-feminist?
“[H]air has diverse socioreligious and symbolic value in many civilizations.” Women and men in many religious traditions cover their hair to some extent. Amish women regularly cover their hair in ways similar to Haredi Jewish women. Catholic nuns, upon taking vows, also take the veil. The practice of hijab and other forms of veiling in Islam has been mentioned. Similar debates (about the feminist and anti-feminist qualities of these traditions) rage in each of these communities. That Islam faces the most outsider criticism is a strong indication that “feminist” arguments are often co-opted by other political motivations.
Feminists who wish to empower Orthodox (and other fundamentalist) women must grapple with this contention and with serious arguments that some women find empowerment through practices such as hair covering. If you wish to give women voice and agency, you must first listen to them. A complex question arises if feminists argue for women’s rights in regards to hair veiling and covering. Are you fighting to let them wear it or take it off? As seen in the “Being Uncovered” section, some women have felt oppressed more by community norms against covering than they have by the practice of covering. If you fight for a law forbidding women’s “submission” through hair covering, how are you any better than religious customs encouraging them to wear it? Hair covering, along with every religious practice, must be an individual choice. Non-Orthodox women must be aware that they are unlikely to be able to forcibly further women’s empowerment from the outside. Instead, they must stand in solidarity if and when Orthodox women ask them to, as Haredi women grapple with their own understandings of feminism, empowerment, and agency.
“Many religious women have internalized the value of hair covering and find meaning in it. Many others, however, find it restrictive and burdensome; and they feel that there is sufficient precedent in Jewish law that they can…be modest, observant women with or without covering their hair.” It is egotistical and paternalistic to assume that an Orthodox woman needs our permission to uncover her hair. Movements such as women wearing the sal and sexy wigs demonstrate that ultra-Orthodox women are expressing and living their own convictions in regards to these gendered principles.

Conclusion
This examination of Orthodox Jewish women has sought to demonstrate how they understand power and agency. While many Jewish feminists deplore Orthodoxy because they see it as anti-feminism, we assert that Orthodoxy is only anti-certain forms of feminism. Women can find empowerment and be empowered through Orthodoxy as well as through other religious traditions and expressions. This conclusion has a parallel in Mahmood’s discussions of the Egyptian Islamic Revival and Women’s Mosque Movement.
Though we speak with some hesitation about similarities between cultural and religious movements (no analogy is perfect), there are some clear corresponding techniques used to argue for women’s rights. Islamic, Jewish, and Christian feminists often argue that the “true fundamentals” of each of these Abrahamic religions are gender equitable. Certain practices that have come to be important components of religious life may thus be discarded without losing the “real meaning” of the faith. It is this line of thought that feminism on fundamentalism often uses. We have tried to show the importance of feminism in fundamentalism, highlighting the real and valuable experiences of voices of women in fundamental movements who choose, for a variety of reasons, to continue cultural and religious practices deemed “anti-feminist” by those outside the tradition.

Issues for Further Research
Further research could expand these notions of feminism and fundamentalism, seeking to understand how the terms are understood and applied in other regions, religions, and communities. Does what we heard from a multiplicity of Jewish voices mirror the thoughts and desires of women and women’s groups in Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, etc.? How do women in other fundamentalist and/or non-egalitarian religions (Christian evangelicals, Amish, Mormonism, Islamicist) respond to feminism?
Other areas of empowerment and equality for Orthodox women could also be explored (such as greater employment opportunities for women, women’s participation in religious services, women’s leadership in prayer services, and the desegregation of public and religious spaces (the Western Wall, temples, buses, etc.)). It may be that Orthodox women would not feel empowered by being allowed to sit next to men in synagogue. These issues, rather than simply being assumed as unfeminist, should be discussed with the women they actually affect.

Feminist, But…
A major question we are left with after exploring the multiplicity of Jewish women’s voices is whether or not multiple feminisms can coexist if they contradict each other. Is it possible for an Orthodox woman who believes she is expressing her agency through praying in a segregated place to be a feminist if the white Christian tourist who travels to Israel and wants to walk along the full Wall without gender separation is also a feminist? The answer, we believe, lies in an analogy using the existence of fundamental religious groups. Christian evangelicals exist alongside Christian liberal universalists. Both claim the term “Christian,” though they may have entirely different ideologies and worldviews. Ultra-Orthodox, Haredi Jews live next to secular Jewish Israelis; both call themselves “Jewish.” Fundamentalist groups do not own religion or a religious term; instead, they apply their own meanings to the concept. Feminism is the same. Western, white, privileged women do not own the term “feminism” anymore than a suicide bomber owns the word “Islam.”
The hesitance to describe themselves as “feminists” would initially seem to indicate that the women of our study are not. However, as we address the relationships, similarities, and differences between feminism and fundamentalism, we see a possible rational for this hesitancy that has little to do with whether or not women believe in equality, women’s rights, empowerment, etc. We believe that there has come to be a “fundamentalist feminism.” This version of feminism, originating in the 1960s and ‘70s during the second wave of feminism, is perhaps embodied by Marilyn Frye. It is a radical, almost militant feminism, which at times alienates men, religion, and other preexisting power structures. It is this perception of “feminism” as man-hating and bra-burning that Israeli Jewish women seem to object to, not the goals of women’s empowerment and agency-building. A parallel can be seen in the United States regarding fundamentalist religion: more and more, young people hesitate to call themselves Christians, for fear of being assumed a gay-bashing, Bible-thumping, Islamophobic jerk. “Christian, but” syndrome develops. “I’m a Christian, BUT I don’t hate you just because you’re gay.” “I’m a Christian, BUT I’m not one of those Christians.” It is fully possible for a Jewish woman to be a feminist even if she does not claim the name.
This is not to say that we believe every Orthodox Jewish woman is a feminist. A critical part of empowerment and individual agency is the ability to classify yourself, rather than being classified by another. Jewish women in Israel could develop a “Feminist, but” syndrome. But if they do not find any power in this association, why should they do so? If the Women of the Wall do not find power in claiming the term “feminism,” we must not try to force it on them. But nor should we automatically classify them as “anti-feminist” if they choose not to use this label. In the words of Lam, “your feminism is not mine. ” Given the diversity of views in Orthodox Judaism, many can also say “your fundamentalism is not mine.” But that does not mean it is not feminism or fundamentalism.

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