Is the term theocratic democracy an oxymoron? According to the author, an Israeli expert on deviance, it is his key concept: “Theocrats and democrats are stationed on two diametrically opposed ends of a continuum, but they do exist on the same continuum” (p. 200). Nachman Ben-Yehuda analyzes the potentially explosive shifting mixture of, and tension between, religion and democracy in Israel as an intriguing case study of the phenomenon. I shall comment on the formulation after reviewing other aspects of his book.

Employing a constructionist approach, Ben-Yehuda focuses on the cultural construction of unconventionality and deviance—particularly violence—by analyzing reports in the Israeli press between 1948 and 1998. (The methodology, explained in detail in Chapter 3, would be more appropriately placed in an appendix.) He distinguishes between the two major Orthodox Jewish camps—national-religious (Zionist) and ultra-Orthodox or Haredi (anti- to non-Zionist)—and points out the important recent convergence between them, known as Hardal.

Haredi counterculture was a reaction against modernity and particularly reforms in Judaism. Although the author views it as a form of religious fundamentalism, the term revitalization movement more appropriately defines the formulation of a new cultural identity based on an authoritarian worldview that claims to represent the only authentic expression of Judaism. One survey cited by the author estimates the national religious segment at between 9% to 12% of the Israeli population and the Haredi at 8%. Both, but especially the Haredim (plural), are growing at a higher rate than the non-Orthodox and secular majority.

Paradoxically, the Haredim depend economically on the State of Israel while denying its legitimacy. Disproportionate state support, for example of their educational institutions, is a result of coalition payoffs. Also paradoxically, their identity depends on the Israeli culture whose authority they reject and against which they define their cultural boundaries.

The status quo—a term applied to mechanisms through which arrangements between secular–religious relations are negotiated—began with the birth of the state. Although the author does not employ the concept, these were classic consociational arrangements as defined by Arend Lijphart (1977) in Democracy in Plural Societies. Orthodox religious authority applies to matters of personal status and to certain areas of the public sphere. Despite the name, the “status quo” is actually a dynamic process of compromise and conflict management. Asher Cohen and Bernard Susser (2000) argue in Israel and the Politics of Jewish Identity (not cited by Ben-Yehuda) that since the 1980s, the politics of accommodation has been breaking down and consociationalism is failing.

Ben-Yehuda describes a number of events and “affairs” (series of events of long duration) to illustrate patterns studied over a period of 50 years. These anecdotal accounts could have been profitably reduced—particularly since the themes of deviance and unconventionality are discussed again in Chapter 7. An “affair” involving Haredi attacks against archaeological excavations at the City of David near the Old City of Jerusalem began in 1981 and continued until 1984. At issue was the Haredi claim that the digs would desecrate Jewish graves. Similar attacks on archaeologists and archaeological sites took place in other parts of Jerusalem and around the country. Haredi violence was employed against bus stops at which advertisements featured women—especially those attired immodestly.

There were several infamous affairs surrounding the issue of defining “who is a Jew.” Two long-term affairs involved bribery and corruption of leaders of a political party that represents Haredim of Sephardic (Middle Eastern) background. Consistent attacks were made in Haredi media and by leading rabbis against the Supreme Court and its judges—peaking in 1996. Haredi violence against Arabs, gay and lesbian pride parades, and autopsies constitute other categories of violence. Blackmail, cursing, boycotting, excommunication, and magic are symbolic forms of violence employed. Targets include the bus companies, the national airline, state symbols and holidays, the Internet, secular radio and television, the secular legal system, the army, those who violate the Sabbath, and individuals who support secularism and human rights—especially Knesset members. Two Haredi “underground” groups composed of young zealots were formed in the early years of the state. Both groups schemed to set off a bomb in the Knesset (legislature) in protest against a law establishing the recruitment of women into the Israel Defense Forces. The Israeli secret service prevented the action and arrested those involved. One leader, who served 10 months in jail, eventually became the chief Sephardic rabbi of Israel.

The Jewish Underground (1978–80) emerged from extreme elements within Gush Emunim (Bloc of the Faithful)—a right-wing national religious (Zionist) group that was the vanguard of the movement to settle “Judea and Samaria” (the West Bank) occupied by Israel in the 1967 war. The most serious act planned by the group was to blow up the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem—a plot prevented by the Israeli secret service. Ben-Yehuda makes a weak case for inclusion of this non-Haredi group.

The author describes two Haredi groups that targeted those whom they deemed anti-Haredi: “Modesty Guards is a name given to an inner, secret, illegal, and violent semi-police Haredi enforcement organization … who use force against those they deem recalcitrant deviants and nonconformists within their community” (p. 91). The political party led by Rabbi Meir Kahane, elected to the Knesset in 1984, was banned as racist. Kahane was assassinated, and his party remains banned. However, sympathizers support other far-right parties also not primarily identified with Haredim.

Ben-Yehuda contrasts the secular “censorless free press” that reports “life as it is” with the Haredi press that operates on the principle “the right of people not to know,” reporting “life as it should be” (p. 153). He concludes: “Media reports indicate that Haredi violence has become part and parcel of the posture of that counterculture, and has been used to intimidate opponents and coerce them into behavior sought after by Haredi activists” (p. 169). A 1998 survey indicated that “70 percent of Haredim expressed attitudes that supported the use of violence and violation of the law to achieve political goals” (p. 185).

Ben-Yehuda raises three important points requiring clarification and elucidation. First, his suggestion that Haredi dependence on the state constitutes a constraint on their violence contradicts his rejection of the idea of “limited violence” as a “red herring” (p. 184). Second, he notes the impact of the convergence between Haredim and nationalist Orthodox Jews on the interpretation of Judaism in Israel—with the latter adopting practices closer to the former and with Haredim identifying with expansionist forms of nationalism. Yet he fails to amplify the implications of this crucial trend beyond adding “fuel to the furnace of violence” and contributing to the electoral strength of more extreme nationalistic political parties (p. 202).

Third, and most importantly, the concept of theocratic democracy requires elaboration. The listing of 11 trends facilitating theocracy at the expense of Israeli democracy is not a substitute for conceptual clarity. Nor is the assertion that a “negotiated theocratic democracy is a structure that can enable coexistence.” The concluding chapter briefly summarizes the findings and suggests some broader global implications. Ben Yehuda is convincing in arguing for the comparative relevance of the Israeli case, but this reviewer remains skeptical of the explanatory value of his conceptual framework.