This is the second 80th birthday party of Mizrachi that I have been invited to attend. The first was in New York a few months ago, and the second is now, here in Jerusalem. Clearly, this is the more festive as well as the more authentic event, and I am honored to have been invited to address you on this occasion in the presence of so many dignitaries from Israel and overseas. Reaching gevurot is worthy of happy celebration. An idea which was just a glint in the eyes of a few visionaries has become a reality which has had an enormous impact on religious Jewry, on the State of Israel, and on the world Jewish community. It is an occasion of gratitude to the Al-mighty to return the Holy Spirit to Zion, that we can together commemorate this eightieth anniversary in the Holy City of Jerusalem. I shall not recount the triumphant achievements of Mizrachi in the course of the past eight decades. First, there are those here who can do that much better than I and out of a greater background of personal experience. Second, I do not see myself in the role of a cheerleader, and I do not think you invited me here for that purpose. Finally, self-congratulation is a luxury which we cannot afford when we are confronted with almost unprecedented challenges. Boasting of the past is usually the symptom of advanced age and the onset of senility. If we are vigorous, we must work to secure the future — which alone can give meaning and continuity to the achievements of the past. The truth is that underneath the thin veneer of festivity lies a reservoir of sadness, tension, worry, and foreboding apprehension. There is angst and melancholy in the air generally in Israel because of events that do not require repetition by me. For Mizrachi, there is the awareness that it is today at a critical point in its history. Politically it has lost half of its parliamentary seats. Organizationally, it is in decline throughout the world. Some of us have begun to feel like vestiges of the past instead of …

Religious Zionism is in disarray. Underneath the thin veneer or "normalcy" lies a reservoir of sadness, tension, worry, and foreboding apprehension. There is angst and melancholy in the air generally in Israel because of events that do not require repetition by me. For Mizrachi, there is the awareness that it is today at a critical point in its history. Politically it has lost half of its parliamentary seats — at least, as of this writing; the next Knesset may deplete even that. Organizationally, it is in decline throughout the world. Some of us have begun to feel like vestiges of the past instead of harbingers of the future. Some may think I am overstating the case, yet others that I am understating it. Whatever, the situation is an unhappy one. And yet, our historic challenge and duty is to resist being gripped and paralyzed by a psychology of defeatism. As Hasidism taught us, despair is the greatest sin. Greatness is achieved only in confrontation with great challenges. This means that our generation can no longer look upon itself as a dor ha-hemshekh, as those who continue the past, but as those who must rescue that past by reconstituting and reformulating it in the face of adversity. We have an unparalleled opportunity to leave our mark upon history. This is the time neither to ignore the difficulties nor to despair of them and lose heart, but to rise to the occasion with a clear mind, a firm spine, and a fierce visceral determination to change the course of events and prevail. Indeed, this challenge is greater than that faced by our predecessors over 80 years ago. They founded Mizrachi in the growth phase of the Zionist movement. Zionism was new, the ideal of the Return to Zion had a certain freshness about it, and thus was born Mizrachi, the Merkaz Ruchani, the "Spiritual Center." It is far more difficult, more painful, and more arduous to rebuild than to build. As the Talmud taught us: Kasheh attika me-chaddela, the old is far more impervious to the creativ…

For a number of years in the United States, there has been a feeling of frustration and failure that has plagued the religious Zionist movement (Mizrachi). Partly it is the result of organizational and institutional reasons. Partly it is political, as we are aware of radical changes in the policy of the Mafdal (National Religious Party) in Israel. In addition, there are also psychological and existential elements: confusion, embarrassment, ambivalence. We are in the midst of a major, disturbing identity crisis. As we go to sleep at night we ask ourselves: What is Religious Zionism? Where is it leading? The answers are not easy. We dare not permit this spreading malaise to push us over the brink into the abyss of despair, thus crippling our initiative. We can correct the mistakes, and we not only can, but we must avoid such intimations of hopelessness. Permit me to illustrate my point from a halachic source.Lighting the Way: The Rambam rules that Hanukkah candles should be placed outside the entrance to one's house, a handbreadth on the left hand side entering the house, so that the mezuzah will be on the right hand side and the Hanukkah candles on the left side. It is difficult to understand from where Rambam (and the Gemara) derived this halacha. Why the entrance to the house? If the main requirement is that the one who lights (the candles) be surrounded with mitzvot (commandments) aside from publicizing the miracle, why should he not light the candles near the window while he is covered with a tallit (prayer shawl). In any case, he is surrounded by mitzvot and the miracle is publicized.I submit that the entrance to the house is a symbol of instability, the lack of self-confidence, a result of standing on the threshold, on the borderline between the inside and outside, when one cannot decide whether he is going in or staying out. The straddling at the entrance is symbolic of self-doubt, hesitancy, diffidence.Further regarding Hanukkah, the Rambam writes: "It is kn…

It is unfortunate that Minister Yaakov Neeman had to lecture earlier and was not able to appear on this panel. It would have been a pleasure for me to be associated with Dr. Yaakov Neeman. My surname Lamm, which means sheep, requires a shepherd, and I need a faithful shepherd – in Hebrew “faithful” is neeman – and he – Yaakov Neeman – is both a faithful shepherd (ro’eh) and a visionary (ro’eh). The topic assigned to me is “Mizrachi’s Role in the Diaspora.” I am no expert on the Diaspora as such. I am somewhat acquainted with the United States scene, and I therefore will speak on that. I must admit, however, that when I talk about America, it is to an extent as a synonym for the rest of the Diaspora.One more prefatory remark: I would not dare speak about the Israeli situation since you are at the front, in the midst of all that is happening. We Jews of the Diaspora, even though our heart is in the East (i.e., Israel), at the end of the day we stay in the Far West (i.e., overseas, in the United States), in peaceful and prosperous lands.For a number of years in the United States, there is a feeling of frustration and failure regarding Mizrachi. Partly it is the result of organizational and institutional reasons: Israel. In addition, there are also psychological and existential elements: confusion; embarrassment; ambivalence. We are in the midst of a major, disturbing identity crisis. As we go to sleep at night we ask ourselves: Who are the Mizrachi? What is Religious Zionism? Where is it leading? The answers are not easy.Permit me to make three points. First, we must know that we are not alone in our confusion. The political changes, the weak organization, the psychological and existential dilemma, are all illnesses of the developed Western World and maybe, as well, parts of the Third World, in these final years of the 20th century. Such doubts are common to all moderate opinions, to anyone who follows the middle path proposed by Maimonides. All this is not new, espe…