Modernity crisis Until the latter half of the 18th century, Jewish communities in Central and Western Europe were autonomous entities, with distinct privileges and obligations. They were led by the affluent wardens' class judicially subject to
rabbinical courts, which governed most civil matters. Jewish Law was considered normative and enforced upon transgressors (common sinning was rebuked, but tolerated) invoking all communal sanctions: imprisonment, taxation, flogging, pillorying, and, especially,
excommunication. Cultural, economic, and social exchange with non-Jewish society was limited and regulated. This state of affairs came to an end with the rise of the modern, centralized state, which appropriated all authority. The nobility, clergy, urban guilds, and all other corporate estates were gradually stripped of privileges, inadvertently creating a more equal and secularized society. The Jews were one of the groups affected: excommunication was banned, and rabbinic courts lost almost all their jurisdiction. The state, especially following the
French Revolution, was more and more inclined to tolerate Jews as a religious sect, but not as an autonomous entity, and sought to reform and integrate them as "useful subjects". Jewish emancipation and equal rights were discussed. The Christian (and especially
Protestant) separation of "religious" and "secular" was applied to Jewish affairs, to which these concepts were alien. The rabbis were bemused when the state expected them to assume pastoral care, foregoing their principal judicial role. Of secondary importance, much less than the civil and legal transformations, were the ideas of
Enlightenment that chafed at the authority of tradition and faith. By the end of the 18th century, the weakened rabbinic establishment was facing a new kind of transgressor: they could not be classified as tolerable sinners overcome by their urges (''khote le-te'avon''), or as schismatics like the
Sabbateans or
Frankists, against whom sanctions were levied. Their attitudes did not fit the criteria set when faith was a normative and self-evident part of worldly life, but rested on the realities of the new, secularized age. The wardens' class, which wielded most power within the communities, was rapidly acculturating and often sought to oblige the state's agenda. Rabbi
Elazar Fleckeles, who returned to
Prague from the countryside in 1783, recalled that he first faced there "new vices" of principled irreverence towards tradition, rather than "old vices" such as gossip or fornication. In
Hamburg, Rabbi
Raphael Cohen attempted to reinforce traditional norms. Cohen ordered the men in his community to grow a beard, forbade holding hands with one's wife in public, and decried women who wore wigs, instead of visible
headgear, to cover their hair; Cohen taxed and otherwise persecuted
members of the priestly caste who left the city to marry divorcees, men who appealed to
state courts, those who ate food
cooked by Gentiles, and other transgressors. Hamburg's Jews repeatedly appealed to the civil authorities, which eventually justified Cohen. However, the unprecedented meddling in his jurisdiction profoundly shocked him and dealt a blow to the prestige of the rabbinate. An ideological challenge to rabbinic authority, in contrast to prosaic secularization, appeared in the form of the
Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment) movement which came to the fore in 1782.
Hartwig Wessely,
Moses Mendelssohn, and other
maskilim called for a
reform of Jewish education,
abolition of coercion in matters of conscience, and other modernizing measures. They bypassed rabbinic approval and set themselves, at least implicitly, as a rival intellectual elite. A bitter struggle ensued. Reacting to Mendelssohn's assertion that freedom of conscience must replace communal censure, Rabbi Cohen of Hamburg commented: However,
maskilic-rabbinic rivalry ended in most of Central Europe, as governments imposed modernization upon their Jewish subjects. Schools replaced traditional
cheders, and
standard German began to supplant
Yiddish. Differences between the establishment and the Enlightened became irrelevant, and the former often embraced the views of the latter (now antiquated, as more aggressive modes of acculturation replaced the Haskalah program). In 1810, when philanthropist
Israel Jacobson opened what was later identified as the first
Reform synagogue in
Seesen, with modernized rituals, he encountered little protest.
Hamburg Temple dispute of
Pressburg, considered the father of Orthodoxy in general and ultra-Orthodoxy in particular. The founding of the
Hamburg Temple in 1818 mobilized the conservative elements. The organizers of the
synagogue wished to appeal to acculturated Jews with a modernized ritual. They openly defied not just the local rabbinic court that ordered them to desist, but published learned tracts that castigated the entire rabbinical elite as hypocritical and
obscurant. The moral threat they posed to rabbinic authority, as well as
halakhic issues such as having a gentile play an organ on the Sabbath, were combined with theological issues. The Temple's revised prayer book omitted or rephrased petitions for the coming of the Messiah and renewal of sacrifices (
post factum, it was considered to be the first
Reform liturgy). More than anything else, this doctrinal breach alarmed the traditionalists. Dozens of rabbis from across Europe united in support of the Hamburg rabbinic court, banning the major practices enacted there and offering
halakhic grounds for forbidding any changes. Most historians concur that the 1818–1821
Hamburg Temple dispute, with its concerted backlash against Reform and the emergence of a self-aware conservative ideology, marks the beginning of Orthodox Judaism. The leader and organizer of the Orthodox camp during the dispute, and the most influential figure in early Orthodoxy, was Rabbi
Moses Sofer of
Pressburg,
Hungary. Historian
Jacob Katz regarded him as the first to grasp the realities of the modern age. Sofer understood that what remained of his political clout would soon disappear, and that he had largely lost the ability to enforce observance; as Katz wrote, "obedience to
halakha became dependent on recognizing its validity, and this very validity was challenged by those who did not obey." He was deeply troubled by reports from his native
Frankfurt and the arrival from the west of dismissed rabbis, ejected by progressive wardens, or pious families, fearing for the education of their children. These émigrés often became ardent followers. Sofer's response to the crisis of traditional Jewish society was unremitting conservatism, canonizing every detail of prevalent norms in the observant community lest any compromise legitimize the progressives' claim that the law was fluid or redundant. He was unwilling to trade
halakhic opinions for those he considered to be pretending to honor the rules of rabbinic discourse, while intending to undermine them. Sofer regarded traditional customs as equivalent to vows; he warned in 1793 that even the "custom of ignoramuses" (one known to be rooted solely in a mistake of the common masses) was to be meticulously observed and revered. Sofer was frank and vehement about his stance, stating during the Hamburg dispute that prayers in the vernacular were not problematic
per se, but he forbade them because they constituted an innovation. He succinctly expressed his attitude in
wordplay he borrowed from the Talmud: "The new (
Chadash, originally meaning new grain) is forbidden by the Torah anywhere." Regarding the new, ideologically-driven sinners, Sofer commented in 1818 that they should have been anathemized and banished from the People of Israel like earlier heretical sects. Unlike most, if not all, rabbis in Central Europe, who had little choice but to compromise, Sofer enjoyed unique circumstances. He, too, had to tread carefully during the 1810s, tolerating a modernized synagogue in Pressburg and other innovations, and his
yeshiva was nearly closed by warden Wolf Breisach. But in 1822, three poor (and therefore traditional) community members, whose deceased apostate brother bequeathed them a large fortune, rose to the wardens' board. Breisach died soon after, and the Pressburg community became dominated by the conservatives. Sofer also possessed a strong base in the form of his
yeshiva, the world's largest at the time, with hundreds of students. And crucially, the large and privileged
Hungarian nobility blocked most imperial reforms in the backward country, including those relevant to the Jews. Hungarian Jewry retained its pre-modern character well into the 19th century, allowing Sofer's disciples to establish a score of new
yeshivas, at a time when these institutions were rapidly closing in the west, and a strong rabbinate to appoint them. A generation later, a self-aware Orthodoxy was well entrenched in the country. Hungarian Jewry gave rise both to Orthodoxy in general, in the sense of a comprehensive response to modernity, and specifically to the traditionalist, militant
ultra-Orthodoxy. The 1818–1821 controversy also elicited a different response, which first arose in its very epicenter. Severe protests did not affect Temple congregants, eventually leading the wardens of Hamburg's Jewish community to a comprehensive compromise for the sake of unity. They replaced the elderly, traditional Chief
Dayan Baruch Oser with
Isaac Bernays. The latter was a university graduate, clean-shaven, and modern, who could appeal to the acculturated and the young. Bernays signified a new era, and historians marked him as the first modern rabbi, fitting the demands of emancipation: his contract forbade him to tax, punish, or coerce, and he lacked political or judiciary power. He was forbidden from interfering in the Temple's conduct. Conservative in the principal issues of faith, in aesthetic, cultural, and civil matters, Bernays was a reformer. He introduced secular studies for children, wore a
cassock like a Protestant clergyman, and delivered vernacular sermons. He forbade the spontaneous, informal character of synagogue conduct typical of
Ashkenazi tradition, and ordered prayers to be somber and dignified. Bernays' style re-unified the Hamburg community by accommodating their aesthetic demands (but not theological ones, raised by only a learned few). in clerical vestments. The ministerial style of dress seen here was ubiquitous among Central and Western European (neo)-Orthodox Jews. The combination of religious conservatism and modernity in everything else was emulated elsewhere, earning the label "
Neo-Orthodoxy". Bernays and his like-minded followers, such as Rabbi
Jacob Ettlinger, fully accepted the platform of the moderate
Haskalah, taking away its progressive edge. While old-style traditional life continued in Germany until the 1840s, secularization and acculturation turned Neo-Orthodoxy into the strict right-wing of German Jewry. It was fully articulated by Bernays' mid-century disciples
Samson Raphael Hirsch and
Azriel Hildesheimer. Hirsch, a Hamburg native who was ten during the Temple dispute, combined Orthodox dogmatism and militancy against rival interpretations of Judaism, granting leniency on many cultural issues and embraced German culture. The novel mixture termed "Neo-Orthodoxy" spread. While insisting on strict observance, the movement both tolerated and advocated modernization: traditionally rare formal religious education for girls was introduced; modesty and gender separation were relaxed to match German society; men went clean-shaven and dressed like Gentiles; and exclusive Torah study virtually disappeared. Basic religious studies incorporating German provided children with practical
halakhic knowledge for thriving in modern society. Ritual was reformed to match prevalent aesthetic conceptions, much like non-Orthodox synagogues though without the ideological undertone, and the liturgy was often abbreviated. Neo-Orthodoxy mostly did not attempt to reconcile its conduct and
halakhic or moral norms. Instead it adopted compartmentalization, de facto limiting Judaism to the private and religious spheres, while otherwise yielding to outer society. While conservative Rabbis in Hungary still thought in terms of the now-lost communal autonomy, the Neo-Orthodox turned Judaism from an all-encompassing practice into a private religious conviction.
Wissenschaft des Judentums , the single most prominent Orthodox theoretician who dealt with the critical-historical method. In the late 1830s, modernist pressures in Germany shifted from the secularization debate, moving into the "purely religious" sphere of theology and liturgy. A new generation of university-trained rabbis (many German states required communal rabbis to possess such education) sought to reconcile Judaism with the
historical-critical study of scripture and the dominant philosophies of the day, especially
Kant and
Hegel. Influenced by the critical "
Science of Judaism" (
Wissenschaft des Judentums) pioneered by
Leopold Zunz, and often in emulation of the
Liberal Protestant milieu, they reexamined and undermined beliefs held as sacred in traditional circles, especially the notion of an unbroken chain from
Sinai to the
Sages. The more radical among the
Wissenschaft rabbis, unwilling to limit critical analysis or its practical application, coalesced around Rabbi
Abraham Geiger to establish
Reform Judaism. Between 1844 and 1846, Geiger organized three rabbinical synods in
Braunschweig,
Frankfurt and
Breslau, to determine how to refashion Judaism for present times. The Reform conferences were met with uproar by the Orthodox. Warden
Hirsch Lehren of
Amsterdam and Rabbi
Jacob Ettlinger of
Altona both organized anti-Reform manifestos, denouncing the new initiatives, signed by scores of rabbis from Europe and the Middle East. The tone of the signatories varied considerably along geographic lines: letters from traditional societies in
Eastern Europe and the
Ottoman Empire implored local leaders to petition the authorities and have them ban the movement. Signers from Central and Western Europe used terms commensurate with the liberal age. All were implored by the petitioners to be brief and accessible; complex
halakhic arguments, intended to convince the rabbinic elite in past generations, were replaced by an appeal to the secularized masses. The struggle with
Wissenschaft criticism shaped the Orthodox. For centuries,
Ashkenazi rabbinic authorities espoused
Nahmanides' position that
the Talmudic exegesis, which derived laws from the
Torah's text by employing
hermeneutics, was binding ''
d'Oraita''. Geiger and others presented exegesis as an arbitrary, illogical process, and consequently defenders of tradition embraced
Maimonides' claim that the Sages merely buttressed already received laws with biblical citations, rather than actually deriving them. Jay Harris commented, "An insulated orthodox,
or, rather, traditional rabbinate, feeling no pressing need to defend the validity of the Oral Law, could confidently appropriate the vision of most medieval rabbinic scholars; a defensive German Orthodoxy, by contrast, could not. ... Thus began a shift in understanding that led Orthodox rabbis and historians in the modern period to insist that the
entire Oral Law was revealed by God to Moses at Sinai." 19th-Century Orthodox commentaries, like those authored by
Malbim, attempted to amplify the notion that the Oral and Written Law were intertwined and inseparable.
Wissenschaft posed a greater challenge to the modernized neo-Orthodox than to the traditionalist.
Hirsch and
Hildesheimer divided on the matter, anticipating modernist Orthodox attitudes to the historical-critical method. Hirsch argued that analyzing minutiae of tradition as products of their historical context was akin to denying its divine origin and timeless relevance. Hildesheimer consented to research under limits, subjugating it to the predetermined sanctity of the subject matter and accepting its results only when they accorded with the latter. More importantly, while he was content to engage academically, he opposed its practical application in religious questions, requiring traditional methods to be used. Hildesheimer's approach was emulated by his disciple Rabbi
David Zvi Hoffmann, a scholar and apologetic. His polemic against the
Graf-Wellhausen hypothesis formed the classical Orthodox response to Higher Criticism. Hoffman declared that for him, the unity of the Pentateuch was a given, regardless of research. Hirsch often lambasted Hoffman for contextualizing rabbinic literature. All of them stressed the importance of dogmatic adherence to
Torah min ha-Shamayim, which led them to conflict with Rabbi
Zecharias Frankel, Chancellor of the
Jewish Theological Seminary of Breslau. Unlike the Reform camp, Frankel insisted on strict observance and displayed great reverence towards tradition. But though appreciated by conservatives, his practice of
Wissenschaft left him suspect to Hirsch and Hildesheimer. They demanded again and again that he state his beliefs concerning the nature of revelation. In 1859, Frankel published a critical study of the
Mishnah, and added that all commandments classified as "
Law given to Moses at Sinai" were merely customs (he broadened
Asher ben Jehiel's opinion). Hirsch and Hildesheimer seized the opportunity and launched a public campaign against him, accusing him of heresy. Concerned that public opinion regarded both neo-Orthodoxy and Frankel's "Positive-Historical School" centered at Breslau as similarly observant and traditionalist, the two stressed that the difference was dogmatic and not
halakhic. They managed to tarnish Frankel's reputation in the traditional camp and delegitimized him for many. The Positive-Historical School is regarded by
Conservative Judaism as an intellectual forerunner. While Hildesheimer distinguished Frankel's observant disciples from Reform proponents, he wrote in his diary:
how meager is the principal difference between the Breslau School, who don silk gloves at their work, and Geiger who wields a sledgehammer.
Communal schism , the ideologue of Orthodox secession in Germany. During the 1840s in Germany, as traditionalists became a clear minority, some Orthodox rabbis, such as Salomo Eger of
Posen, urged the adoption of
Moses Sofer's position and to anathemize the principally nonobservant. Eating, worshipping or marrying with them were to be banned. Rabbi
Jacob Ettlinger, whose journal
Treue Zionswächter was the first regular Orthodox newspaper (signifying the coalescence of a distinct Orthodox mindset), rejected their call. Ettlinger, and German neo-Orthodoxy in his wake, chose to regard the modern secularized Jew as a transgressor rather than a schismatic. He adopted Maimonides' interpretation of the Talmudic concept
tinok shenishba (captured infant), a Jew by birth who was not raised as such and therefore could be absolved for not practicing, and greatly expanded it to serve the Orthodox need to tolerate the nonobservant majority (many of their own congregants ignored strict practice). For example, he allowed congregants to drink wine poured by Sabbath desecrators, and to ignore other
halakhic sanctions. Yet German neo-Orthodoxy could not legitimize nonobservance, and adopted a hierarchical approach, softer than traditional sanctions, but no less intent on differentiating sinners and righteous. Reform rabbis or lay leaders, considered ideological opponents, were castigated, while the common mass was to be carefully handled. Some German neo-Orthodox believed that while doomed to minority status in their native country, their ideology could successfully confront modernity and unify Judaism in more traditional communities to the east. In 1847, Hirsch was elected Chief Rabbi of
Moravia, where old rabbinic culture and
yeshivas operated. His expectations were dashed as traditionalist rabbis scorned him for his European manners and lack of Talmudic acumen. They became enraged by his attempts to reform synagogues and to establish a rabbinical seminary including secular studies. The progressives viewed him as too conservative. After four years of constant strife, he lost faith in the possibility of reuniting the Jewish public. In 1851, a group in
Frankfurt am Main that opposed the Reform character of the Jewish community turned to Hirsch. He led them for the remainder of his life, finding Frankfurt a hospitable site for his unique ideology, which amalgamated acculturation, dogmatic theology, thorough observance, and strict secession from the non-Orthodox. , the leading
halakhic authority of the Hungarian "zealots" during the
Orthodox-Neolog schism. That year, Hildesheimer visited Hungary. Confounded by urbanization and acculturation – and the rise of
Neology, a nonobservant laity served by rabbis who mostly favoured the Positive-Historical approach – the elderly local rabbis at first welcomed Hildesheimer. He opened a modern school in
Eisenstadt that combined secular and religious studies. Traditionalists such as
Moshe Schick and Yehudah Aszód sent their sons to study there.
Samuel Benjamin Sofer, the heir of late Hatam Sofer, considered appointing Hildesheimer as his assistant-rabbi in
Pressburg and instituting secular studies in the city's great
yeshiva. The rabbi of Eisenstadt believed that only a full-fledged modern rabbinical seminary could fulfill his neo-Orthodox agenda. In the 1850s and 1860s, however, a radical reactionary Orthodox party coalesced in the
northeastern regions of Hungary. Led by Rabbi
Hillel Lichtenstein, his son-in-law
Akiva Yosef Schlesinger and decisor
Chaim Sofer, the "zealots" were shocked by the demise of the traditional world into which they had been born. Like Moses Sofer a generation before them, these Orthodox émigrés moved east, to a pre-modern environment that they were determined to safeguard. Lichtenstein ruled out any compromise with modernity, insisting on maintaining
Yiddish and traditional dress. They considered the Neologs as moving outside of Judaism, and were more concerned with neo-Orthodoxy, which they regarded as a thinly veiled gateway for a similar fate. Chaim Sofer summarized their view of Hildesheimer: "The wicked Hildesheimer is the horse and chariot of the
Evil Inclination... All the heretics in the last century did not seek to undermine the Law and the Faith as he does." In their struggle against acculturation, the Hungarian ultra-Orthodox struggled to provide strong
halakhic arguments. Michael Silber wrote: "These issues, even most of the religious reforms, fell into gray areas not easily treated within Halakha. It was often too flexible or ambiguous, at times silent, or worse yet, embarrassingly lenient." Schlesinger was forced to venture outside of normative law, into mystical writings and other fringe sources, to buttress his ideology. Most Hungarian Orthodox rabbis, while sympathetic to the "zealots"' cause, dismissed their legal arguments. In 1865, the ultra-Orthodox convened in
Nagymihály and issued a ban on various synagogue reforms, intended not against the Neologs but against developments in the Orthodox camp, especially after Samuel Sofer violated his father's expressed ban and instituted vernacular sermons in Pressburg. Schick, the country's most prominent decisor, and other leading rabbis refused to sign, though they did not publicly oppose the decree. Hildesheimer's planned seminary was too radical for the mainstream rabbis, and he became marginalized and isolated by 1864. The internal Orthodox division was complicated by growing tension with the Neologs. In 1869, the
Hungarian government convened a General Jewish Congress that was aimed at creating a national representative body. Fearing Neolog domination, the Orthodox seceded from the Congress and appealed to Parliament in the name of religious freedom. This demonstrated the internalization of the new circumstances. In 1851, Orthodox leader
Meir Eisenstaedter petitioned the authorities to restore the coercive powers of the communities. In 1871 the government recognized a separate Orthodox national committee. Communities that refused to join either side, labeled "Status Quo", were subject to Orthodox condemnation. However, the Orthodox tolerated nonobservant Jews as long as they affiliated with the national committee:
Adam Ferziger claimed that membership and loyalty, rather than beliefs and ritual behavior, emerged as the definitive manifestation of Jewish identity. The Hungarian schism was the most radical internal separation among the Jews of Europe. Hildesheimer returned to Germany soon after, disillusioned though not as pessimistic as Hirsch. He was appointed rabbi of the Orthodox sub-community in Berlin (which had separate religious institutions but was not formally independent of the Liberal majority), where he finally
established his seminary. In 1877, a law enabling Jews to secede from their communities without conversion was passed in Germany. It was a stark example that Judaism was now confessional, not corporate. Hirsch withdrew his congregation from the Frankfurt community and decreed that all Orthodox should do the same. However, unlike the heterogeneous communities of Hungary, which often consisted of recent immigrants, Frankfurt and most German communities were close-knit. The majority of Hirsch's congregants enlisted Rabbi
Seligman Baer Bamberger, who was older and more conservative. Bamberger was concerned with the principal of unity among the People Israel and dismissive of Hirsch, whom he regarded as unlearned and overly assimilated. He decreed that since the mother community was willing to finance Orthodox services and allow them religious freedom, secession was unwarranted. Eventually, less than 80 families from Hirsch's 300-strong congregation followed their rabbi. The vast majority of the 15%–20% of German Jews affiliated with Orthodox institutions cared little for the polemics. They did not secede over reasons of finance and familial relations. Only a handful of Secessionist,
Austrittorthodox, communities were established in the Reich; almost everyone remained Communal Orthodox,
Gemeindeortodox, within Liberal mother congregations. The Communal Orthodox argued that their approach was true to Jewish unity and decisive in maintaining public standards of observance and traditional education in Liberal communities. They claimed that Secessionists viewed them as hypocritical middle-of-the-roaders. The conflicts in Hungary and Germany, and the emergence of distinctly Orthodox communities and ideologies, were the exception rather than the rule in Central and Western Europe. France, Britain, Bohemia, Austria and other countries saw both a virtual disappearance of observance and serious interest in bridging Judaism and modernity. The official rabbinate remained technically traditional, not introducing ideological change. The organ – a symbol of Reform in Germany since 1818, so much that Hildesheimer seminarians had to sign a declaration that they would never serve in a synagogue that introduced one – was accepted with little qualm by the
French Consistoire in 1856. It was part of a series of synagogue regulations passed by Chief Rabbi
Salomon Ulmann. Even Rabbi
Solomon Klein of
Colmar, the leader of
Alsatian conservatives who partook in the castigation of Zecharias Frankel, allowed the instrument in his community. In England, Rabbi
Nathan Marcus Adler's
United Synagogue shared a similar approach: It was vehemently conservative in principle and combated
ideological reformers, yet served a nonobservant public – as
Todd Endelman noted, "While respectful of tradition, most English-born Jews were not orthodox in terms of personal practice. Nonetheless they were content to remain within an orthodox congregational framework" – and introduced considerable synagogue reforms.
Eastern Europe The much belated pace of modernization in Russia,
Congress Poland and the Romanian principalities, where harsh discrimination and active persecution of the Jews continued until 1917, delayed the crisis of traditional society for decades. Old-style education in the
heder and
yeshiva remained the norm, retaining
Hebrew as the language of the elite and
Yiddish as the vernacular. The defining fault-line of Eastern European Jews was between the
Hasidim and the
Misnagdic reaction against them. Reform attempts by the
Czar's government, like the school modernization under
Max Lilienthal or the foundation of rabbinical seminaries and the mandating of communities to appoint clerks known as
"official rabbis", all had little influence. Communal autonomy and the rabbinic courts' jurisdiction were abolished in 1844, but economic and social seclusion remained, ensuring the authority of Jewish institutions and traditions de facto. In 1880, there were only 21,308 Jewish pupils in government schools, out of some 5 million Jews in total; In 1897, 97% of the 5.2 million Jews in the
Pale of Settlement and Congress Poland declared Yiddish their mother tongue, and only 26% possessed any literacy in Russian. Though the Eastern European
Haskalah challenged the traditional establishment – unlike its western counterpart, no acculturation process turned it irrelevant; it flourished from the 1820s until the 1890s – the latter's hegemony over the vast majority was self-evident. The leading rabbis maintained the old conception of communal unity: In 1882, when an Orthodox party in
Galicia appealed for the right of secession, the
Netziv and other Russian rabbis declared it forbidden and contradicting the idea of Israel's oneness. While slow, change was by no means absent. In the 1860s and 1870s, anticipating a communal disintegration like the one in the west, moderate
maskilic rabbis like
Yitzchak Yaacov Reines and
Yechiel Michel Pines called for inclusion of secular studies in the
heders and
yeshivas, a careful modernization, and an ecumenical attempt to form a consensus on necessary adaptation of
halakha to novel times. Their initiative was thwarted by a combination of strong anti-traditional invective on behalf of the radical, secularist
maskilim and conservative intransigence from the leading rabbis, especially during the bitter polemic which erupted after
Moshe Leib Lilienblum's 1868 call for a reconsideration of Talmudic strictures. Reines, Pines and their associates would gradually form the nucleus of
Religious Zionism, while their conservative opponents would eventually adopt the epithet
Haredim (then, and also much later, still a generic term for the observant and the pious). The attitude toward Jewish nationalism, particularly
Zionism, and its nonobservant if not staunchly secularist leaders and partisans, was the key question facing the traditionalists of Eastern Europe. Closely intertwined were issues of modernization in general: As noted by Joseph Salmon, the future religious Zionists (organized in the
Mizrahi since 1902) were not only supportive of the national agenda per se, but deeply motivated by criticism of the prevalent Jewish society, a positive reaction to modernity and a willingness to tolerate nonobservance while affirming traditional faith and practice. Their proto-
Haredi opponents sharply rejected all of the former positions and espoused staunch conservatism, which idealized existing norms. Any illusion that differences could be blanded and a united observant pro-Zionist front would be formed, were dashed between 1897 and 1899, as both the Eastern European nationalist intellectuals and
Theodor Herzl himself revealed an uncompromising secularist agenda, forcing traditionalist leaders to pick sides. In 1900, the anti-Zionist pamphlet
Or la-Yesharim, endorsed by many Russian and Polish rabbis, largely demarcated the lines between the proto-
Haredi majority and the Mizrahi minority, and terminated dialogue; in 1911, when the 10th
World Zionist Congress voted in favour of propagating non-religious cultural work and education, a large segment of the Mizrahi seceded and joined the anti-Zionists. In 1907, Eastern European proto-
Haredi elements formed the Knesseth Israel party, a modern framework created in recognition of the deficiencies of existing institutions. It dissipated within a year. German Neo-Orthodoxy, in the meantime, developed a keen interest in the traditional Jewish masses of Russia and Poland; if at the past they were considered primitive, a disillusionment with emancipation and enlightenment made many young assimilated German Orthodox youth embark on journeys to East European
yeshivot, in search of authenticity. The German secessionists already possessed a platform of their own, the
Freie Vereinigung für die Interessen des Orthodoxen Judentums, founded by
Samson Raphael Hirsch in 1885. In 1912, two German FVIOJ leaders,
Isaac Breuer and
Jacob Rosenheim, managed to organize a meeting of 300 seceding Mizrahi, proto-
Haredi and secessionist Neo-Orthodox delegate in
Katowice, creating the
Agudath Israel party. While the Germans were a tiny minority in comparison to the Eastern Europeans, their modern education made them a prominent elite in the new organization, which strove to provide a comprehensive response to world Jewry's challenges in a strictly observant spirit. The Agudah immediately formed its
Council of Torah Sages as supreme rabbinic leadership body. Many ultra-traditionalist elements in Eastern Europe, like the Belz and Lubavitch Hasidim, refused to join, viewing the movement as a dangerous innovation; and the organized Orthodox in Hungary rejected it as well, especially after it did not affirm a commitment to communal secession in 1923. In the
Interwar period, sweeping secularization and acculturation deracinated old Jewish society in Eastern Europe. The
October Revolution granted civil equality and imposed anti-religious persecutions, radically transforming Russian Jewry within a decade; the lifting of formal discrimination also strongly affected the Jews of
independent Poland,
Lithuania and other states. In the 1930s, it was estimated that no more than 20%–33% of Poland's Jews, the last stronghold of traditionalism where many were still living in rural and culturally secluded communities, could be considered strictly observant. Only upon having become an embattled (though still quite large) minority, did the local traditionalists complete their transformation into Orthodox, albeit never as starkly as in Hungary or Germany. Eastern European Orthodoxy, whether Agudah or Mizrahi, always preferred cultural and educational independence to communal secession, and maintained strong ties and self-identification with the general Jewish public. while admiring
Samson Raphael Hirsch, Leeser was an even stauncher proponent of
Zecharias Frankel, whom he considered the "leader of the Orthodox party" at a time when Positive-Historical and Orthodox positions were barely discernible from each other to most observers (in 1861, Leeser defended Frankel in the polemic instigated by Hirsch). A broad non-Reform camp slowly coalesced as the minority within American Jewry; while strict in relation to their progressive opponents, they served a nonobservant public and instituted thorough synagogue reforms – omission of
piyyutim from the liturgy, English-language sermons and secular education for the clergy were the norm in most, and many Orthodox synagogues in America did not
partition men and women. In 1923, the
Rabbinical Council of America was established as the clerical association of the OU. Only in the postwar era, did the vague traditional coalition come to a definite end. During and after the
Holocaust, a new wave of strictly observant refugees arrived from Eastern and Central Europe. They often regarded even the UOR as too lenient and Americanized. Typical of these was Rabbi
Aaron Kotler, who established
Lakewood Yeshiva in New Jersey during 1943. Alarmed by the enticing American environment, Kotler turned his institution into an enclave, around which an entire community slowly evolved. It was very different from his prewar
yeshiva at
Kletsk,
Poland, the students of which were but a segment of the general Jewish population and mingled with the rest. Lakewood pioneered the homogeneous, voluntary and enclavist model of postwar
Haredi communities, which were independent entities with their own developing subculture. The new arrivals soon dominated the traditionalist wing of American Jewry, forcing the locals to adopt more rigorous positions. Concurrently, the younger generation in the JTS and the
Rabbinical Assembly demanded greater clarity, theological unambiguity and
halakhic independence from the Orthodox veto on serious innovations — in 1935, for example, the RA yielded to such pressures and shelved its proposal for a solution to the
agunah predicament. "Conservative Judaism", now adopted as an exclusive label by most JTS graduates and RA members, became a truly distinct movement. In 1950, the Conservatives signaled their break with Orthodox
halakhic authorities, with the acceptance of a far-reaching legal decision, which allowed one to drive to the synagogue and to use electricity on Sabbath. Between the ultra-Orthodox and Conservatives, Modern Orthodoxy in America also coalesced, becoming less a generic term and more a distinct movement. Its leader in the postwar era, Rabbi
Joseph B. Soloveitchik, left Agudas Israel to adopt both pro-Zionist positions and a positive, if reserved, attitude toward Western culture. As dean of RIETS and honorary chair of RCA's
halakha committee, Soloveitchik shaped Modern Orthodoxy for decades. While principled differences with the Conservatives were clear, as the RCA stressed the divinely revealed status of the Torah and a strict observance of
halakha, sociological boundaries were less so. Many members of the Modern Orthodox public were barely observant, and a considerable number of communities did not install a
gender partition in their synagogues – physically separate seating became the distinguishing mark of Orthodox/Conservative affiliation in the 1950s, and was strongly promulgated by the RCA – for many years. As late as 1997, seven OU congregations still lacked a partition. == Theology ==