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August 2, 2024
I’d like to begin my drash tonight with a song. Please join with me if you know it:
Zum gali gali gali, zum gali gali (2X)
Hechalutz l’ma’an avodah, avodah l’ma’an hechalutz. (2X)
In case you’re not familiar with this song, here’s a little background. Zum Gali Gali, also known as the “Israeli Work Song,” was written sometime around the founding of the State of Israel and was associated with Kibbutz Mishmar HaEmek in northern Israel. The words “zum gali gali” are nonsense, but the second part of the song means “the pioneer is for the sake of work, and work is for the sake of the pioneer.” The chalutzim, the pioneers, were Jewish immigrants who came to the Land of Israel after World War I to develop and settle it, paving the way for the founding of the modern State of Israel. In the Jewish imagination, chalutzim were the ideal “New Jews,” the antithesis of the stereotypical yeshivah bocher. They were brave, strong, tan young adults who left their homes and families to come to Eretz Yisrael, to drain swamps and till the soil. As the song says, the chalutzim lived for their work, devoting themselves completely to the Zionist dream.
I’m not sure when “chalutz” was first applied to these idealistic Zionists, but it is a strange application given its original usage. In this week’s double Torah portion, Mattot-Mas’ei, we encounter the first occurrence of the word in the Hebrew Bible. As we reach the end of the Book of Numbers, the Israelites have almost arrived at the Promised Land after 40 long years in the wilderness. As they pass through the region of Gilead, across the Jordan River from Canaan, two of the tribes, the Gadites and the Reubenites, notice that Gilead is particularly good for raising livestock. These two tribes happen to own a lot of livestock, so they come to Moses and say, “[This land] is cattle country, and your servants have cattle. It would be a favor to us if this land were given to your servants as a holding; do not move us across the Jordan” (Num. 32:4-5). Moses is not amused by their request, responding angrily, “Are your brothers to go to war while you stay here?! Why will you turn the minds of the Israelites from crossing into the land the Eternal has given them?” (32:6-7) Moses worries that, as in the previous generation, the reluctance of some Israelites to go and conquer the land will be contagious, and the whole people will suffer from God’s anger as a result.
The Gadites and Reubenites backtrack, insisting that they will just leave their cattle and families in Gilead but that the men will go with the rest of the Israelites to conquer Canaan. It is at this moment that they offer to be “chalutzim,” often translated as “shock-troops,” warriors who will fight at the front lines. They promise, “We will hasten as shock-troops in the van of the Israelites until we have established them in their home” (vs. 17). Moses accepts their proposal, urging them to fulfill their promise and ensure that the Israelites can take possession of the land.
This story is often used as a lesson about putting the needs of the community ahead of our own individual needs. The Israelites can’t succeed in taking possession of the land God has promised to them unless the whole people work together towards that mission. But the Gadites and Reubenites are motivated entirely by self-interest, as they seek to settle in the region best suited for their own success. The commentators notice that these tribes even seem to care more about their livestock than their children, as they say to Moses, “We will build here sheepfolds for our flocks and towns for our children” putting the sheepfolds first. Moses subtly corrects them, answering, “Build towns for your children and sheepfolds for your flocks, but do what you have promised” (vs. 24). Moses knows he won’t persuade the Gadites and Reubenites to care more about their people than their wealth, and perhaps won’t even persuade them to care more about their own children than their wealth, so he makes a deal with them, ensuring that both the People of Israel and the tribes of Gad and Reuben get what they need. The deal seems to be successful, as in the Book of Joshua we read that the tribes keep their word and help the Israelites conquer the land before returning to their livestock and children in Gilead.
The irony is hard to miss. The chalutz of the early 20th century – a pioneer who, in the words of one scholar, “deliberately forsakes all considerations of career for the mission of building with his own hands the future of his people in Eretz Israel” – is named after the tribes of Israel who end up settling outside the Land of Israel because they value their own material wealth more than the land and covenant given by God!
I can’t explain why the Zionist movement was drawn to the term “chalutz,” given its original use, but I’d like to think there’s a lesson in this irony. Israel, both the ancient and modern nation, was built by chalutzim, those who were passionately dedicated to the vision of a land where Jews could be free to live as Jews. But maybe Israel was and is also built by those other chalutzim, people who aren’t zealots or fanatics, people who have other interests and concerns, even people who have to be reminded to care about the well-being of the People and State of Israel along with their own needs and desires.
As American Jews, we might see ourselves as that second type of chalutzim, just without all the cattle. We prefer to live outside the Land of Israel, and that gives us the luxury of distance, both physical and psychological. Since October 7, we have, no doubt, been more aware of and concerned about what’s going on in Israel. But we’re not personally living with sirens going off all around us, or rockets falling on our towns, or the threat of greater violence that seems to increase every day. We’re also not living with the knowledge that our government is waging a war that has caused massive destruction and death in Gaza and the West Bank. It’s relatively easy, and rather tempting, I will admit, for us American Jews to turn our focus elsewhere. But our Torah portion pulls our gaze back, back to the Land that has been our struggle and our hope for 3000 years. I have to believe that for those of us who are alienated or conflicted or ambivalent about Israel, there are ways even we can offer it our support without abandoning our other values or priorities. In the coming weeks and months, the social action committee will be sharing some new ways to work for the well-being of Israel, so please stay tuned. In the meantime, on this Shabbat, we continue to pray for a sukkat shalom, a shelter of peace and of justice to be spread over Jerusalem, over Israel and Palestine, and over all the world.