The Charedi Jewish community is close knit and differentiates itself from wider society in its dress, its mores and even its language. Many people, Jews and non-Jews, are understandably curious about what life is like on the inside. Unfortunately, this has resulted in a cottage industry of people who make claims and assertions about Charedi Jews that are, frankly, outlandish and, in some cases outright defamatory.
Last week’s column by Daniel Sugarman on the ongoing saga of LGBT education in Charedi schools falls firmly in the latter category. I’m more than willing to listen to thoughtful criticism of Charedim, but when I read an account of my community that bears no relation to anything I know, I feel compelled to respond.
First, the claim that anyone who admitted an alternative sexuality “would be immediately ostracised and rejected” is absolutely false. In reality, the Charedi community contains dozens of people who have rejected the Charedi lifestyle in its entirety and nevertheless choose to remain within its midst. Indeed, there are a number of Charedi organisations whose raison d'etre is to provide these members of the community with emotional and material support.
This is well known to those with a passing familiarity with the Charedi community. What even they may be surprised to learn, however, is that homophobia is not a feature of Charedi culture. In the Modern Orthodox world, homosexuality is the subject of the same fierce disputes that raged in the western world for 40 years and there are strong opinions on both sides, but it simply does not occupy that kind of place in the Charedi mind. Mainstream Charedim in Stamford Hill do not bully gay people, make homophobic jokes, or use ‘gay’ as an all-purpose term of abuse. This is not because the subject is taboo, but simply because no one on either side of the issue has yet convinced them that the topic is terribly important.
The Chief Rabbi has written eloquently about ‘young LGBT+ people in our schools who have been left feeling so isolated that their very lives are in danger’. I entirely agree that every effort should be made to make these schools more welcoming and safe. It is not fair, however, to make extrapolations from what may be happening in Hasmonean or JFS to Belz and Bobov. One of the strengths of the Charedi system is that the kind of homophobic bullying that plagues other schools simply doesn’t exist. I have attended three Charedi educational institutions and have taught or worked in four more. I have, naturally, encountered a certain amount of bullying, but I have never come across a single incident of homophobia. The reason for this is simple: the total prohibition of sexualisation of children throughout the Charedi community.
I cannot make this point strongly enough: Charedi boys and girls do not know how babies are made. They have absolutely no opinions, either prejudiced or tolerant, on what kind of sex acts are permissible or blameworthy. They do not know what Judah and Tamar did, they do not know why Joseph fell out with Potiphar, and their portrait of King David is entirely unsullied by his exploits with Bathsheba.
The system by which young Charedim learn about sex and sexuality in time to start a family is delicate and complex. No-one designed it, rather it emerged out of years of cultural evolution and most Charedi parents would struggle to explain it in any systematic fashion. It is so radically unlike most other cultures that it is hard for outsiders even to believe it exists, but it does exist and, what’s more, it works.
When I say ‘works’, I mean not only measured by our exceptionally low rates of sexually transmitted diseases, out of wedlock pregnancies, or divorce. Most importantly, I mean the thousands of ordinary Charedim who maintain strong, stable families that bring them happiness and fulfilment. Another benefit of the system is that our schools are entirely free of bullying on account of sexual characteristics.
It is immensely frustrating, then, to be constantly attacked by self-declared protectors of Charedi homosexuals, who are allegedly so ‘scared and despairing about their future’ that they are driven to suicide. I challenge anyone to provide a smidgen of evidence that suicide rates among Charedim are higher than those of any other Jewish or non-Jewish group. The only possible effect of introducing LGBT education into our schools – aside from baffling the children – would be to introduce precisely the kind of bullying that our critics claim to oppose.
The reason Charedi parents are totally united in opposition to LGBT education in our schools is perfectly simple: they do not want their children to learn about sex. I have led assemblies of Charedi children and told them that they must be tolerant of people of all religions, including those that practice idol worship, even though idol worship is against Judaism at the most basic level. The reason why I cannot do the same for alternative sexual lifestyles has absolutely nothing to do with homophobia or, indeed, with homosexuality per se. Some may ridicule our insistence on maintaining the purity of our children or declare it to be nothing but a cover for homophobia, but we cannot simply remove a foundation stone of our way of life because others insist on misinterpreting it.
Daniel Sugarman writes that ‘bigotry stems from a lack of education’. I hope Mr Sugarman will take his own words seriously when it comes to my community. We Charedim are certainly an odd bunch. Our culture, our customs, even our mannerisms are strange, sometimes even silly.
Criticise us if you wish, ridicule us if you want, hate us if you insist, but, please, don’t try to tell us that our entire approach to childrearing is nothing more than a smokescreen for bigotry. We’re here, we’re queer: get used to it.
