The Eruv Question: An Unorthodox Debate
Note: This story was written in 2006
The most contentious debate in Palo
Alto in the past ten years was the utterly fascinating and increasingly bitter “Eruv Debate” of 1999 and 2000. It seemed impossible that one
issue could polarize two sides to such a vehement and vitriolic
degree and yet seem so painfully irrelevant to so many others. But never doubt
the ability of religious proclamations to stir up the passions of
the soul, or in this case, the local op-ed page.
First though, a quick
religious lesson: An eruv (pronounced ay-roove) is a continuous physical
boundary around a city or a portion of a city. By representing an
extension of the home, it allows Orthodox Sabbath-observant Jews to
“carry” and “push” outside of the house on the Sabbath, normally restricted
behavior. The concept of an eruv dates back to the time of King
Solomon and often consists of nothing more than twine marking the
boundary. Still, it must be created in a very particular way as outlined in the
Torah and while sometimes viewed by outsiders as a religious
loophole of sorts, it is taken very seriously by the devoted.
Although
more than a hundred U.S. cities (including the nation’s capital) have eruvs, the
concept is not well known outside the Orthodox Jewish community.
Largely symbolic and virtually invisible, man-made and natural-made
objects can form the eruv. For instance, a Palo Alto eruv is already 80%
complete just counting the 101 Freeway, the San Francisquito and
Adobe Creeks, and a lengthy fence along Foothill Expressway.
The Orthodox Jewish community, about 700 strong and
led by Rabbi Yitzchok Feldman of the Emek Beracha congregation at
4102 El Camino Real, believed that such objects made Palo Alto a perfect
location for a eruv and asked to string invisible twine between
light and utility poles owned by the city. As has been done in many
other cities, the twine would create symbolic "doorways,” between the “walls” to
complete the eruv. Feldman’s group, called PACE (Palo Alto Community
Eruv), was ready to cover the cost of construction and to be
responsible for maintenance of the project. Hundreds of other cities in the U.S.
had allowed such eruvs and all they needed was the city’s
consent.
But that would not come so easy.
While the collection of
already established barriers and inconspicuous twine has been seen as harmless
in most cities, somehow all hell managed to break loose when the
eruv was considered in Palo Alto’s marketplace of ideas. Even before Councilwoman Sandy Eakins officially proposed a Palo Alto eruv, local
newspapers were besieged with letters of protest against the eruv---some
of which sounded such a negative tone (even anti-Semitic?), that an
almost equal number of letters were generated in response. For two years, the eruv debate raged in Palo Alto, sending City Council members for
cover.
The arguments on both sides were varied. Orthodox Jews pushed
strongly for the eruv because without it, faithful followers would
not be able to carry or push outside the home. Along with the other requirements
of the Sabbath---banning use of cars or electricity for
instance---it was nearly impossible for parents of young children to
go anywhere on the Sabbath---sometimes even to synagogue to worship.
But
this original argument began to be replaced by a second more reactive one. As
the anti-eruv arguments became increasingly heated, many Jews and
non-Jews began to see the issue as being about the Palo Alto community’s tolerance for a minority religion. Pointing to the
city-installed red lights on Fulton Street at Christmas time, they
asked, were Palo Altans unable to accept the traditions of any religion other
than that of the majority?
While on the other side, arguments
ranged from principled/constitutional to intolerant/defensive. Some seemed earnestly worried about the wall between church and state. They
argued that by publicly proclaiming an eruv, the city of Palo Alto
would be favoring one religion over all others. Indeed, California’s state constitution is even stricter than the national document when it comes
to First Amendment religious issues: "Free exercise and enjoyment of
religion without discrimination or preference are guaranteed."
This
constitutional question seemed to hinge largely on whether an eruv is a
religious symbol, like the Christian cross or the Jewish menorah. In
two previous East Coast constitutional challenges to eruvs, courts ruled that they would likely not be recognized as a religious display by
the typical observer. Still, Dave Kong of the American Atheists
Inc., as well as others, were threatening to sue the city if the eruv was
proclaimed and some council members seemed to back away from the
proposal for fear of costly lawsuits.
Others simply did not wish to live
within a defined eruv, whether virtually undetectable or not. Some gentile Palo Alto workers said they would be personally offended by having no
choice but to enter the symbolic enclosure every day. By 2000, the
back and forth in the Letters to the Editor sections of the two Palo Alto
papers became increasingly hot and related to other topics (Israel, the
Holocaust, religious persecution) and was lowering the level of
discourse appreciably.
The atmosphere reached its nadir when the Jewish
Community Center received 3 threatening phone calls praising a
recent shooting at a L.A. JCC and making verbal threats. The calls all ended
with the caller, later found to be a neo-nazi residing in San Jose,
signing off with the phrase, "Heil Hitler."
Watching from the
sidelines, many other Palo Altans were annoyed by the eruv’s prominence in the
local debate. Council members began to complain that debate had
raged long enough. Many wished to see the issue decided, one way or
the other. As one 2000 Letter to the Editor put it, “Eruv, shm'eruv! Put up the stupid wires. Paint the darn lines. Let's get some sleep already. In
100 years from now, who is going to
know, and who is going to care,
anyway?”
But in the end, the eruv never did get its due. After several
delays and punts to staff, the City Manager eventually wiped the
issue off the board with a disingenuous “compromise.” Staff recommended, and a Council subcommittee approved, the authorization of a painted line
rather than the twine that the Orthodox Community wanted---a
non-solution that everyone knew would not satisfy the Torah’s precise
restrictions. As Rabbi Yitzchok Feldman raged the following week,
“What's being passed off as a solution is no solution. It doesn't
work, and staff knows that. The word 'solution' has to be applied only with
irony. City staff were determined to kill it."
Palo Alto
never did get a eruv and sadly the legacy left by this unique community
discussion of two years was not the construction of a symbolic wall
but the partial destruction of the atmosphere of religious tolerance
in the city. []
Note: Palo Alto did finally get an Eruv in 2007. http://www.paloaltoonline.com/news/show_story.php?id=5277
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An eruv is usually undetectable to most residents.
Emek Baracha in 2006.
An Orthodox Jewish family in Palo Alto. (PA Weekly)