By
Dina Brawer
Our report on a Chasidic sect banning female drivers set off a national debate. This week, two Orthodox women answer the question:Should we drive?
Read our other Belz blogger, Chaya Spitz, here
Since the news emerged of the Belz's ban on women drivers, I have been asked a number of times why I have been so public in my belief that it is motivated by sexism, and is draconian in nature.
Why do I care? What do I hope to achieve? What is my personal stake in an issue that affects such a small minority of British Jews?
The ban certainly seems to have little impact on the wider Jewish community. I am not a member of the Belz sect. And the Belz have no intention of extending their ban to the other segments of the community.
Moreover, the women of Belz themselves have emphasised just how grateful they are to be spared the "high-pressured activity" of driving, and the road-rage it might induce. If the women of Belz don't feel oppressed, who am I to advocate their liberation?
But there are two critical ways in which the ban directly impacts the entire Jewish community, both for the worse.
First, the problem of perception. Wider media and their consumers see the ban on women driving as an Orthodox Jewish practice, and it is imperative to make it abundantly clear that such a measure has no basis whatsoever in our tradition. The fact that this despotic ban masquerades as Orthodox Judaism is nothing short of a Chillul Hashem, a desecration of God's name. I have tried my utmost to mitigate this.
Secondly, the Belz ban is emblematic of a growing trend in Orthodoxy to push women to the margins. In recent years, this tendency has manifested itself in a number of deeply disturbing ways. Gender segregated buses, pavements and playgrounds have become common in Charedi communities in Israel, as has the practice of forcing female passengers to move seats on planes, so as not to be in proximity to pious Charedi men.
Further, the pixelating of women's faces in the Charedi media has become increasingly widespread. Even more serious is the ban on Charedi women from running for public office. As Adina Bar-Shalom, the daughter of the late Sephardi Chief Rabbi of Israel, remarked: "I fear that if this continues, we will have to veil our faces."
Why does this matter? Because Orthodox Judaism is gravitating to an extreme position, dragging the centre ground along with it. The tendency in Orthodoxy has always been to march to the tune of the right. Traditional Jews typically see the strictly Orthodox as more "authentic", and their more stringent precepts as displaying greater adherence to Jewish law. If the marginalisation of women is allowed to continue in the Charedi community, we could soon see its ripples reaching our own.
It is a dangerous error to say that the Belz driving ban is an isolated incident affecting Belz women alone. It is a worrying symptom of wider sea change within Orthodox Judaism, and anyone who has a stake in Orthodoxy ought to speak out loudly and clearly before it is too late.
Dina Brawer is a rabbinical student at Yeshivat Maharat and the UK Ambassador for JOFA, Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance
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