Being Gay and Orthodox in Israel



Orthodox Jews Protest at Gay Pride Parade in Israel



Being gay and an orthodox Jew – don’t mix. In the Bible, Leviticus 18:22 states: “Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind, it is an abomination.” For Orthodox Jews, especially those living in Haredi communites in Israel or anywhere else in the world, this prohibition is taken very seriously.

 Israel has some of the world’s most progressive gay rights legislation. (Rosenthal, 371). But when it comes down to it, more than Askenazim, Mizrahim (who tend to be more conservative and religious) still are hiding in closets, scared to come out and face rejection by their families. (Rosenthal, 372). Among the orthodox, there is absolutely no tolerance or acceptance of homosexuality. “In our world, being gay is like eating pork on Yom Kippur” says Nurit, who lives in an Orthodox religious West Bank settlement near Jerusalem (Rosenthal, 373). Many gay Orthodox Jews attempt to ignore their sexual impulses or keep them hidden.  A gay man who wants to remain in the haredi community has to do more than merely keep his sexual identity hidden; he will often marry. ( Rosenthal, 378). In the Orthodox community, the number of gay men marrying in pursuit of traditional lives is much higher than in the secular world. Among  gay orthodox men, some act on their impulses to a point--avoiding intercourse because of the biblical prohibition. And then there are those who lead fully gay lives, ignoring the Jewish legal ban on gay sex. This often leads to them leading a double life and secretly meeting other gay men in places far from their communities. One such place is Tel Aviv’s Independence Park, known as a meeting spot for “hit and run” homosexual encounters. Donna Rosenthal recounts the case of a haredi man at the park explaining that he was not really breaking the biblical prohibition that a “man shall not lie down with a man” because he doesn’t lie down – he does it standing up. (372)

Orthodykes symbol

The issues for Orthodox lesbians are different than for Orthodox gay men, in part because the Torah does not specifically prohibit lesbian sex. OrthoDykes is a group for Orthodox Jewish lesbians that had its start in Israel about ten years ago. They have a very simple website in which they extend an invitation to women who are orthodox (another word they use for orthodox is “frum”) who would like to talk to other women like them.  On the website myjewishlearning.com, in discussing this group and other orthodox gay underground groups, journalist Naomi Grossman talks about the fact that like men, orthodox lesbian women are often married and have children, and coming out would mean isolation for them. If you’re lesbian in the orthodox community, you keep silent and go along with the program. Growing up religious means the women are raised to be wives and taught that fulfillment means bringing children into the world. (Rosenthal, 375) Orthodoxy is all they know - they love the rituals, the Sabbath and the praying, but then religion becomes the thing that means they have to reject another important part of themselves. The underlying message of Orthodykes is that the spiritual side of a person is as powerful as the sexual side and that one can’t be ignored at the expense of the other.



JOH provides counseling and support for LGBT people from all walks of life



 There are a growing number of organizations to support LGBT people who would like to reconcile their sexual orientation with their desire to remain observant Jews.  In recent years, support groups, community centers, chat rooms and websites have enabled people to safely meet and talk about topics that would normally be viewed as taboo.  In Jerusalem, one of these support systems is the Jerusalem Open House. When the JOH was founded in 1997, many were incredulous as to whether LGBT people even existed in Jerusalem, let alone whether it could sustain a vibrant LGBT center. It is a community center for LGBT people from all walks of life – and the fact that it is thriving in Jerusalem is a testament to the fact that there is a need for counseling a support even in Jerusalem. A website called Orthogays, provides resources and answers to some of the most frequently asked questions. Is it possible to be Orthodox and gay or lesbian? What does the Torah say about homosexuality? What can I do about sex as an Orthodox gay Jew? Can I still be Orthodox if I have gay sex? Why did God make me gay? What about the mitzvah of peru urevu (procreation)? How can I contribute to the continuity of the Jewish people?

According to Shlomo Ashkinazy, a gay-rights activist and Orthodox Jew, these groups and sites are transforming orthodox communities. For a long time, he says, "people couldn't conceive that it was possible to be gay and frum (observant/orthodox), so they were leaving [Orthodoxy] in droves." Now, he says, "More and more people are staying frum--because of the support system and the role models."

My sources consisted of 4 websites. Two of them were support groups inviting membership – Orthodykes and JOH.  Orthodykes’ website is very plain and in English only, seeming to indicate that it is geared to English speakers living in Israel. The JOH site is in Hebrew, English and Arabic and describes itself as an advocacy group while also seeking funds to support its efforts.  The other two sites provided information and links and were written with a positive bias towards LGBT orthodox Jews.

Popular Israeli TV sitcom “Arab Labor” highlights lives of Arab-Israelis

Cast of Israeli hit sitcom "Arab Labor"

Arab- Israeli journalist, Sayed Kashua, works at the Israeli newspaper Haaretz writing a weekly column about Arab and Palestinian issues, but he is better known as the writer of a sitcom that has become very popular on Israeli TV called “Arab Labor” or “Avoda Aravit” in Hebrew, which is a derogatory term describing shoddy or second rate work. The series is popular with its mostly Jewish audience, which finds it irreverent and funny. The series' main character is Amjad Alian, an Israeli-Arab journalist living and working in Jerusalem, who tries to fit into mainstream Jewish society, often with comic results. Mr. Kashua resorts to some unflattering stereotypes on both sides for the sake of comedy, but he is also a master of subtle nuance in dealing with both Arab and Jewish society. The show has a prime time slot in Israeli TV even though 70 percent of the dialogue of “Avoda Aravit” in Arabic with Hebrew subtitles.

 “Avoda Aravit” reflects a society still grappling with fundamental issues of identity and belonging in a Jewish state. The series is highly controversial in Israel's Arab community and has engendered criticism in the mainstream Israeli press over its treatment of delicate issues of discrimination, religion and coexistence. In the left leaning newspaper Haaretz, journalist Alon Idan asks, “What’s so Funny?” and criticizes Kashua for presenting painful truths that are tamed by the sitcom's script and extensive use of slapstick comedy. He states that the sitcom hatches a kind of deal with the Jewish viewer, promising not to present anything too disturbing, even though the plots now and then fleetingly touch upon potentially explosive subjects. Many among the 1.4 million Palestinian citizens of Israel, 20 percent of the population, say it borders on insulting. The Arabic press reviews have been “deadly — the critics are attacking everything I’ve done,” Mr. Kashua said. The lavish praise by most Hebrew-language critics has not helped.

One of the problems is that Israel, still largely relates to its Arab minority as “a fifth column or a demographic problem” says Kashua. While Israel’s Arab citizens are guaranteed full equality under the state’s 1948 Declaration of Independence, and they even participate in Parliament, discrepancies in budget and land allocations have resulted in wide gaps between many of the state’s Arabs and Jews. The Intifadas and increased violence have also sparked increased suspicion of all Arabs, without discriminating between moderate Arabs and radical extreme ones. Donna Rosenthal describes this reality in Israel by telling a story about a secular Arab doctor, part of an expanding Muslim bilingual and bicultural middle class, living and working in Haifa side by side with Israelis. The Arab doctor was a respected staff member of an Israeli hospital, but when he traveled with a group of Jewish doctors to a conference outside the country – he was humiliated to be the only individual singled out for a special security screening because of his name and looks (Rosenthal, 258). This moderate Israeli Arab doctor supports the creation of a Palestinian state, but feels that Israel is his home and that Jews and Arabs have to think seriously about “what kind of future it will be because we’re all going to be sharing it.”(Rosenthal, 262) He is a proponent of peaceful coexistence but not all Arab Israelis subscribe to that belief, nor do all Jewish Israelis.

The article from the New York Times praises Kashua for successfully launching a TV series in Israel, but the writer presents a negative view of Israel when he described Kashua’s upbringing and the dominance of Israelis over Arabs –seeming to say that no matter what Kashua did, the Israelis would always hold him in low regard. The article from Haaretz criticizes Kashua for sugar-coating difficult and painful issues with comedy and slapstick. This journalist sees the need within Israel to confront these problems, not laugh about them. That is easier said than done. The truth is that with his sitcom, “Avoda Aravit”, Kashua has managed to barge through cultural barriers and bring an Arab point of view into the mainstream of Israeli entertainment.  It is his way of trying to address the undercurrents of unease and maybe diffuse the growing polarization among both Israelis and Arabs in Israel.