*4.4. Religions in the Service of Humankind*

In his lecture "No Religion Is an Island," Heschel stated that the diversity of religions was "the will of God" (Heschel 1996a, p. 244). According to Harold Kasimow, Heschel was "a Jewish interreligious artist" who does not enter easily in the Christian categories of inclusivism or pluralism. He deems that Heschel cherished his Judaism and was convinced of the truth of his religion, but he saw that there was more than one way of serving God, although traditions were not "*equally* valid" (Kasimow 2009, pp. 199–200).

Heschel wanted religions to be involved in the world, but he did not develop an interreligious theology, in which interaction between religions leads to mutual learning and criticism and in which one does not leave a dialogue without being changed. Rather than formulating an interactive theology, he underscored the common task of all religious people, especially of people belonging to the Abrahamitic religions, and he described conditions for an interreligious dialogue (Heschel 1996a, pp. 239–40). He met with Cardinals Bea and Willebrands and with Pope Paul VI and was in dialogue with Thomas Merton and Reinhold Niebuhr. Through encounters and dialogue with religious others, he contributed to a more positive approach to Jews and Judaism.

Heschel and Gandhi did not develop a full-fledged interreligious theology. Yet, their openness to religious others and their interaction with them represent the basis for the construction of such a theology. Whereas Heschel focused on Jewish–Christian relations, Gandhi's interest was much broader. He read books on other religions, including Zoroastrianism and Islam. Prayers from different traditions were an integral part of the routine in his ashram. He valued the great variety of religions and focused upon the Hindu–Muslim relation, in view of the necessity of their cooperation in India. The spinning wheel that was so crucial in the *swadeshi* movement had to appear on the flag together with the green and red colors that represented Islam and Hinduism (Kapoor 2017, p. 142).13

Gandhi's and Heschel's religiosity was praxis-oriented. Gandhi conducted a lifelong interreligious dialogue and endeavored to move religious others to a non-violent way of life. There is an evolution in his thoughts on other religions (Meir 2021b, pp. 2–3). Gandhi himself was conscious of his own evolution and maintained that his later opinions were decisive. Although he accentuated the differences between religions less, he knew about "trans-difference," in which there is unity but also a multitude of particularities. He dealt with all kinds of diversity: children, women, languages, and religions. He was a real pluralist, although one may also find inclusivist standpoints when it comes, for instance, to Buddhism and atheism.<sup>14</sup>

Like Heschel, Gandhi was an engaged human being, who inserted religion conceived as non-violence into politics and social life. In this manner, he influenced many people, including Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King and entire social movements such as engaged Buddhism (King 2009, pp. 2, 11). His Tolstoy Farm, created in 1910 and located near Johannesburg, was an experiment; it was "a center of spiritual purification and penance for the final campaign" (Gandhi 1968, p. 239). There were Hindus, Muslims, Parsis, and Christians (Gandhi 1968, p. 219). Although Christians and Muslims in the ashram were used to eating meat, it was decided to stop eating meat because of religious others. This, of course, solved problems between religions and promoted *satyagraha* as a non-violent religion. On the occasion of the decision of abstaining from meat, Gandhi noted: "[ ... ] where love is, there is God also" (Gandhi 1968, p. 220). At school in the ashram, children of various faiths learned together. Muslims read the Qur'an, Parsis the Avesta, and one read, of course, Hindu texts (Gandhi 1968, pp. 224–25). The aim of the education, in which Gandhi was actively involved, was the cultivation of a spirit of friendship and service (Gandhi 1968, pp. 224–25). At prayer time, they sang *bhajans* (hymns), sometimes there were readings from Ramayana or a book on Islam (Gandhi 1968, p. 229). When Muslims fasted, there was only one meal for non-Muslims, at the evening before sunset, then for Muslims after sunset and in the early morning. Such a solidarity and sensitivity are characteristic for Gandhi's view on interreligious cohabitation. Like Gandhi, but less infrequently, Heschel prayed with religious others, for instance with King.

In his "Constructive programme" addressed to the members of the Indian National Congress in 1941, Gandhi reminds the Congressmen of the concrete steps of his political philosophy (Gandhi 2009, pp. 169–80). In view of the betterment of the life of all citizens, he emphasizes the need of a "communal unity" or "an unbreakable unity" (Gandhi 2009, p. 170). Every Congressman should "represent in his own person Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Zoroastrian, Jew, etc., shortly, every Hindu and non-Hindu" and "have the same regard for the other faiths as he has for his own . . . " (Gandhi 2009, p. 170).

In her doctoral thesis, Nicola Christine Jolly remarked that Gandhi's religiosity allowed him to be in touch with religious others, with whom he became friends. His friendship with them was relational, web-like, which supplements other ways of dialogue (such as the academic one or the official institutional one) (Jolly 2012, pp. 312–13). In his ashram, prayers were inter-religious, and religions were equal. With time, he adopted a positive attitude to inter-caste marriage and inter-dining (Jolly 2012, p. 108).

Jolly describes Gandhi as a pluralist, who maintained that no religion can have a full grasp of the multidimensional Truth, since all religions are mere human responses to God. For Gandhi, a moral atheist like Gora was truly "religious" (Jolly 2012, p. 43). Gandhi was influenced by atheists, who fought against injustice of the Hindu orthodoxy (Jolly 2012, p. 110). His standpoint towards atheists was inclusive, rather than pluralist, given the fact that in his adagio "Truth is God," the term God is still present.

Gandhi was a *sanatani* Hindu, who believed in the Vedas, the Upanishads, and the Gita. However, these scriptures had to stand the test of reason (Majmudar 2005, p. 190). As I noted, his was most of all a religion of non-violence, which he found in all religions. He therefore could not stand the humiliation and the violence committed towards the untouchables.

Gandhi wanted to understand Christians from a Christian viewpoint and Muslims from a Muslim viewpoint. Yet, he himself looked at the Jewish tradition through Christian lenses (Meir 2021b, pp. 5–10). In principle, he respected the writings of religious others and wanted to interpret the writings of a religious tradition in the way the best minds of that tradition understood their own tradition. Basically, he would not dare to criticize these writings as an outsider, since he himself had experienced how outsiders of his own tradition had attacked it out of ignorance: "I have nowhere said that I believe literally in every word of the Koran, or for the matter of that of any scripture in the world. But it is no business of mine to criticize the scriptures of other faiths or to point out their defects. It is and should be, however, my privilege to proclaim and practice the truths that there may be in them. I may not, therefore, criticize, or condemn things in the Koran or the life of the Prophet that I cannot understand. But I welcome every opportunity to express my admiration for such aspects of his life as I have been able to appreciate and understand. As for things that present difficulties, I am content to see them through the eyes of devout Mussalman friends, while I try to understand them with the help of the writings of eminent Muslim expounders of Islam. It is only through such a reverential approach to faiths other than mine that I can realize the principle of equality of all religions. But it is both my right and duty to point out the defects in Hinduism in order to purify it and to keep it pure. But when non-Hindu critics set about criticizing Hinduism and cataloguing its faults they only blazon their own ignorance of Hinduism and their incapacity to regard it from the Hindu viewpoint. It distorts their vision and vitiates their judgement. Thus my own experience of the non-Hindu critics of Hinduism brings home to me my limitations and teaches me to be wary of launching on a criticism of Islam or Christianity and their founders" (CWMG 1999, 64: 332).

#### *4.5. Between Tradition and Renovation*

In the formulation of his liberation theology, Heschel differed from Gandhi in that he was less of a reformer than Gandhi. He was a traditional Jew who went to the roots of his tradition, in which the identification with the discriminated was the alley to the Divine. As a Jew who knew about oppression, he developed a solidarity with the oppressed. He distanced himself from a pious Hasidism and found in the prophets a religiosity that was socially and politically relevant. The prophets were his heroes, because they sympathized with the divine concern for the poor and the suffering. God was a responsive God, a most moved mover, suffering with the sufferers. The prophets identified with His pathos. Heschel's and Gandhi's liberation theologies were the result of their religious engagement in the world. They refused to remain passive in front of political injustice, but they abhorred armed rebellion.

Gandhi lived his Hindu tradition and loved other religious traditions in as far as they were committed to an ethical life and to communication and dialogue. Religion with a capital letter was instrumental to create a "new we," in view of the good for all (Kalsky 2014a, 2014b). All religions contained care and compassion for the other. Gandhi deemed that belonging is not merely belonging to the own group, it was a worldwide belonging to all: a universal brother- and sister-hood. However, he opposed the abolishment of the caste system and the principle of hereditary occupation as the kernel of this system. The hereditary principle was an eternal principle and to change it was to create disorder. He reformed Hinduism, but only partially. His traditional standpoint raises the question of how this structural violence was compatible with his non-violence. He was severely criticized by the *Dalit* dr. Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar (1891–1956), who opposed the caste system in his book "Annihilation of Caste." That system was hierarchical and discriminatory and had to be abolished. Drawing consequences, Ambedkar converted to Buddhism (Anand 2014). He wanted the *Dalits* to have the same status and opportunities as everybody else. He accused Gandhi of speaking in different voices: one in English in *Young India—*later *Harijan—*and another in his publications in Gujarati language in *Navajivan—*later *Harijan Bandhu*. It was not enough to allow *Dalits* the entry in a temple and give them the name *Harijans*, "people of God," as Gandhi did in 1933. More had to be done. Ambedkar could not see Gandhi as representing the *Dalits*. Against Gandhi who refused isolation and fragmentation, he wanted a separate electorate for the *Dalits* in the Congress.15

The human rights activist Arundhati Roy has also severely criticized Gandhi.<sup>16</sup> In her introduction, "The Doctor and the Saint," to the critical edition of Ambedkar's book, she mentions that Gandhi distinguished between the Indian business men, the "passenger Indians," and the indentured laborers, who mostly belonged to lower castes. She quotes Gandhi, who wrote on these laborers that they did not have any moral or religious instruction worthy of the name (CWMG 1999, 1: 200). The indentured workers were different from his own group. Roy notes that Gandhi did not want Indian prisoners in the same jails as the Kaffirs (CWMG 1999, 9: 256–57). Moreover, Gandhi and the "passenger Indians" were loyal to the British and served in the war on their side. They belonged to the "Imperial Brotherhood" (CWMG 1999, 2: 421). Yet, recently, Coovadia criticized Roy, who did not grasp Gandhi's radicalism, his personal independence, and his rapid change. Coovadia notes that the hope of "Imperial Brotherhood" was given up with Gandhi's translation of Tolstoy's *Letter to a Hindu* into Gujarati and with *Hind Swaraj* (Gandhi 2009) (Coovadia 2020, pp. 59–60). Gandhi had a complex approach to his tradition, which he kept and reformed. The problem of traditions lies in shaping the collective self on the negative background of others. In the worst-case scenario, the own value is affirmed, whereas others are devaluated. In this way, inequality and discrimination are born or kept alive; the humiliation of the ones constitutes the greatness of the others. Gandhi was aware that traditions are threatened by fear and segregation of the other.17 He deemed that one may overcome these negative tendencies in tradition by realizing universal brother- and sister-hood. He affirmed the equal worth and dignity of every human being in an inclusive, non-discriminating community.

Gandhi departed from the traditional understanding of Hindu terms. For instance, whereas *ahimsa* was traditionally defined as non-injury and non-killing, Gandhi added to it compassion or love: "Where there is no compassion, there is no *ahimsa*" (CWMG 1999, 40: 192). *Ahimsa* meant active love. This positive interpretation and broadening of the traditional term *ahimsa* allowed Gandhi to be actively involved in the world. He referred to Tolstoy, who equated non-violence with active love and who would have understood non-violence better than anyone in India (CWMG 1999, 37: 262; Parekh 1999, pp. 112–16, 119–20).

One should not underestimate the radical novelty of Gandhi's independent thinking and of his doctrine (Parekh 1999, pp. 120, 123). Yet, he retained the four *varnas* with their hereditary occupations. These occupations were universal—imparting knowledge, defending the defenseless, doing agricultural work and commerce, and performing physical labor. They regulated social relations and conduct. With time, the harmful restrictions of interdining and intermarriage were added. Exploring Gandhi's alternative to or reformulation of the Hindu tradition, Dieter Conrad argues that, in a gradual process, Gandhi did not maintain the inferiority or superiority among the different occupations. Gandhi wanted to realize the truth of metaphysical human equality. However, this did not lead him to a condemnation of the caste system, in which one follows one's ancestors' occupation. He rather maintained the four divisions, which he viewed as functional: all had to serve and all had to hold on to their primary environment, avoiding in this way competition. In this manner, Conrad posits that Gandhi maintained and purified Hinduism from within (Conrad 1999).

Conrad's view on Gandhi and the Hindu tradition is not shared by others. Ambedkar already argued that Gandhi's approach to the Hindu tradition was highly problematic: untouchables are regarded as non-Hindus, since they are excluded from the *varna* system: oppression was affirmed in the name of religion. In our times, Anantanand Rambachan deems that Gandhi's ideal understanding of caste is not without controversy and that it is rejected by prominent *Dalit* leaders. He considers that it is a problem to affirm Hindu identity on the negative background of untouchables, who are dehumanized and humiliated. The challenge lies in the creation of a vision of the tradition that affirms the dignity of all. In the Advaita tradition, Rambachan finds that *Brahman* is present in all that is created. All, including the D*alits*, embody the infinite. Rambachan contends: "*Braham* includes everyone; caste excludes" (Rambachan 2015, p. 177). The Hindu perception of the divine equality is the basis for *ahimsa* as principle of non-injury or—positively—as the praxis of compassion and justice. Gandhi said: "No scripture which labels a human being as inferior or untouchable because of his or her birth can command our allegiance; it is a denial of God and Truth which is God" (Fischer 1962, p. 252). The four classes (*varnas*) were indeed complementary in Gandhi's ethical view. Rambachan, however, deems that there is no necessary correlation between birth and one's qualification for a particular kind of work. "Scripture," he concludes, "is not authoritative if it reveals anything that is contradicted by the evidence of other valid sources of knowledge" (Rambachan 2015, p. 184). A hierarchical social system is refuted empirically and cannot be justified by appeal to scripture. The goal of the *dharma* is the attentiveness to the good of all beings, not solely to specific groups (Rambachan 2015, pp. 185, 196).

In Rambachan's liberation theology, Gandhi did not go far enough. Hindus must recognize the inhumanity in the non-egalitarian, exploitative, and oppressive caste system. Concessions to the disadvantaged while maintaining a hierarchical social system is not enough. Advaita requires that one sees the suffering of the other as one's own (Rambachan 2015, p. 195). There is no separation between the self and the other: *atman*, the Spirit, unites all. The two Sanskrit words for compassion are *karuna* (used by Buddhists) and *daya*. This is parallel with the Hebrew word *rahamim*, mercy, a feeling in the belly. In the Jewish sources, God himself is called *ha-rahaman*, the Merciful. Additionally, in Islam, God is the Merciful, *al-rahim*; He is merciful and loves human beings (Qur'an 5:54). In Hindu thinking, God is in everyone, and interdependence implies that the suffering of others is one's own suffering. Rambachan values Gandhi's thoughts but also criticizes him.

Andrews, who had worked in the slums of London, equally opposed the caste system (Meir 2017, pp. 86–88). He lambasted the Christian missionary detractors of the Hindu tradition. Through Hinduism, he found God in everything. He influenced Gandhi, who in turn was attacked by the orthodox for making too many concessions and reforms, foremost in his attitude towards the *Dalit*.

The above criticism of Gandhi, however, does not diminish his merit of having developed a liberation theology for his own subdued people as well as for the British imperialists. With his liberating thoughts, he reimagined his own tradition radically. In Gandhi's and Heschel's perspective, tradition should never be a burden; it should remain open to the future. To value the wisdom of tradition does not contrast with its permanent

evolution. Gandhi was in *sampradaya ¯* , the flow of tradition, which aimed to improve humanity. Heschel too deemed that tradition should remain an inspiration, as is eminently expressed in an aphorism attributed to the Austrian composer Gustav Mahler (1860– 1911): "Tradition is the preservation of fire and not the adoration of ashes" ("Tradition ist Bewahrung des Feuers und nicht Anbetung der Asche"). Raised in the spirit of great Hasidic masters, he continued the tradition in a novel way. He rediscovered the social critic of the prophets.<sup>18</sup> Gandhi and Heschel developed a non-conventional approach to their religious tradition.19 They criticized empty ritual and reformulated their tradition in view of mending the world. This approach allowed them to work out a liberation theology that protested against inequality and discrimination in a non-violent way.

#### *4.6. Transformation through Non-Violent Protest*

Gandhi and Heschel wanted to transform the human being. It was not enough to analyze: one had to act and to change reality. For Gandhi, this meant that one had to be the change one wants to see. His *satyagraha* was a love-force, based upon non-violence (*ahimsa*) as a process and upon a Truth (*satya*) that is to be realized. It aimed at changing people by not perpetuating the circle of violence. Active non-violence would bring forth a new world, in which state violence, oppression, humiliation, conflicts, and wars could be avoided or at least diminished. Instead of being motivated by greed, people could be metamorphosed into a universal brother-and sister-hood. Gandhi wanted to convince the British in South Africa that they do not have to envy the Indian traders through discriminating laws. He tried to arouse in them their humanity. Through *satyagraha* he wanted to melt the heart of opponents. He was convinced that, in the end, Truth would vanquish.

Gandhi was not an absolute pacifist. He recruited Indians for the English army in WW1. Heschel resembles Gandhi in that neither of them was a full-blown pacifist (Heschel 2020, p. 33). However, he adopted a non-violent approach in opposing the war in Vietnam and in siding with Martin Luther King's civil right movement.20

Gandhi actively protested against the colonial policy of the British vis-à-vis Hindus. In the same vein, Heschel protested against state violence in the case of the Vietnam war. <sup>21</sup> Both Heschel and Gandhi came up against racial prejudices, called by Gandhi the "deep disease of color prejudice" (Majmudar 2005, p. 98). They fought against racism and for human rights. Gandhi came up for the humiliated and oppressed Indians in South Africa. Heschel defended the rights of the Jews in Europe and in the Soviet Union and marched with King for the rights of the black people in America, where racism was prevalent. Gandhi's and Heschel's spirituality uttered itself in their concrete commitments. Yet, Gandhi himself was not entirely free from racial prejudice. He has even been accused of being a racist, of discriminating the African blacks. In his careful chronological account of Gandhi's writings, Nishikant Kolge answers the question whether Gandhi was a racist (Kolge 2016, pp. 88–93). Gandhi demanded separate lavatories and separate food for Indian prisoners. Kolge deems that, in the case of the lavatories, it was not a question of color but of hygiene and sanitation. In the case of food, the Indians had to get the food they wanted. Nevertheless, Kolge writes, Gandhi "held some strong opinions about the African blacks" (Kolge 2016, p. 93). However, if one situates his utterances in their context, his concerns "were guided by political consideration" in order to obtain rights for the Indians. Kolge further notes that, generally, Gandhi was supportive of the cause of African blacks. Gandhi, he concludes, "was neither a champion of the anti-racist movement which aimed at complete eradication of racial prejudices nor a fanatical racist who always showed disdain for the South African blacks" (Kolge 2016, p. 93).

#### *4.7. Zionism and Swaraj: Beyond Mere Nationalism*

Heschel and Gandhi significantly differed on the subject of Zionism. Heschel was profoundly shocked by the murder of six million Jews, amongst whom were many members of his family. After the Shoa, Israel was extremely important for him in order to save Jews. It was also and foremost an occasion to realize the prophetic visions (Heschel 1974). In

the thirties, Gandhi was asked to support the Jews in Germany and in Palestine. He did not favor the Jewish presence in Palestine that e belonged to the Arabs. In Germany and Palestine, the Jews had to adopt *satyagraha*. Gandhi did not favor legitimate, active self-defense (Meir 2021b, pp. 5–10). He did not conceive of Judaism as a peoplehood and did not favor Zionism. To be Jewish meant for him to belong to a religious denomination rather than to an ethnic group.<sup>22</sup> He understood the Jewish yearning to return to Palestine, but Zionism with its leaning upon the British was problematic. The real Jerusalem was the spiritual one (CWMG 1999, 48: 106–7). Gandhi did not take into account that many Jews identify as Jews because they belong to the Jewish people, notwithstanding a minimal or non-existing commitment to the Jewish religion.<sup>23</sup> To be a Zionist is one way of identifying as a Jew. Of course, Judaism is not merely a question of descent, of having a heritable foundation. It is rather performative, pertaining to communal belonging. A purely ethnic approach becomes quickly exclusive. Yet, Gandhi failed to see that Jewishness has also an ethnic dimension and that Zionism is an expression of Judaism. Zion was a safe haven for persecuted Jews in the thirties, when Gandhi was asked to raise his authoritative voice in favor of the Jews, which he failed to do.

In his article "The Jews," which appeared in November 1938, Gandhi did not support the Jewish cause, not in Germany and not in Palestine. Instead, he advised them to adopt *satyagraha*. He did not counsel them to defend themselves.<sup>24</sup> Martin Buber and J. L. Magnes wrote to Gandhi that they disagreed with him. In Buber's mind, the situation of the Indians in South Africa was quite different from that of the Jews in dictatorial Germany. The Indians were discriminated against, whereas the Jews were persecuted, tortured, and murdered. The Indians had India. The Jews had no homeland. To be a Jew did not mean solely to belong to the Jewish religion. Judaism was more than a religion: it was linked to a people, who returned to their land. Magnes similarly doubted that the proposed *satyagraha* would work in Nazi Germany. It was an unrealizable ideal. His own pacifism was in a crisis, and he wrote about a necessary war. Magnes's and Buber's letters were left unanswered. According to Buber, Gandhi only replied in a postcard that he regretted he did not have the time to write a reply (Crane 2007, p. 48, n. 10). It is a pity that we do not have Gandhi's explicit reaction to these two men, who admired him but who disagreed with him at this crucial moment.

One may only speculate on what Heschel would have written to the Mahatma at the time. He was thirty-one years old when Gandhi published his article "The Jews." He had succeeded Buber in the Center for Jewish Adult Education (*Mittelstelle für jüdische Erwachsenenbildung*) and the *Jüdische Lehrhaus* in Frankfurt. At the end of October 1938, he was arrested by the Gestapo and deported to Poland. Two years before, he had published his book *Die Prophetie*, a revision of his doctoral dissertation, in which he expressed his view on the prophets, who had an intercourse with God and who were empathic with the divine ecstasy and the divine active concern for humankind. Heschel fled from Europe and finally reached the United States, where he continued to be worried for the survival and equal rights of Jews. Zion was for him a refuge, but it contained also a promise.

Heschel saw Israel as a haven for persecuted Jews all over the world, but he looked also to Israel with prophetic eyes, full of expectation and hope. He lived the Bible, as Gandhi lived the Gita. The biblical history was for him alive, and Jews wrote the chapters of the Bible (Heschel 1974, p. 49). In his *Israel: An Echo of Eternity*, he looked upon Jerusalem through the eyes of the prophets. His was a prophetic vision. Jerusalem was a promise: the promise of peace and God's presence. God had a vision of man, whom He created according to His image, but the resemblance to God's image had faded rapidly: "God had a vision of restoring the image of man. So He created a city in heaven and called it Jerusalem, hoping and praying that Jerusalem on earth may resemble Jerusalem in heaven. Jerusalem is a recalling, an insisting and a waiting for the answer to God's hope" (Heschel 1974, p. 32). He addresses Jerusalem: "For centuries we would tear our garments whenever we came into sight of your [Jerusalem's] ruins. In 1945 our souls were ruins, and our garments were tatters. There was nothing to tear. In Auschwitz and Dachau, in Bergen-Belsen and

Treblinka, they prayed at the end of Atonement Day, 'Next year in Jerusalem.' The next day they were asphyxiated in gas chambers. Those of us who were not asphyxiated continued to cling to Thee. 'Though he slay me, yet I will trust in him' (Job 13:15). We come to you, Jerusalem, to build your ruins, to mend our souls and to seek comfort for God and men. We, a people of orphans, have entered the walls to greet the widow, Jerusalem, and the widow is a bride again. She has taken hold of us, and we find ourselves again at the feet of the prophets. We are the harp, and David is playing" (Heschel 1974, p. 17).

In his writings, Heschel famously stressed the importance of time as against place. Nevertheless, the land of Israel was important for the Jewish people. Did the land have holiness in itself? Did it have the special status it had for the medieval philosopher Jehuda Halevi { XE "Halevi" }? Heschel was certainly influenced by Halevi's writings. However, he recalled the ancient rabbis, who discerned three aspects of holiness: the holiness of the Divine Name, the holiness of the Sabbath, and the holiness of the people of Israel.25 The ancient rabbis did not mention the holiness of the land *in se*. The holiness of the land was derived from the holiness of the people of Israel. Heschel quotes a variety of sources in order to prove this position.26 The land, he concludes in contrast to Jehuda Halevi, was not holy during the early times of Terah and the Patriarchs; it only became "sanctified" by the people of Israel (Heschel 1951b, pp. 81–82). In the land, the people had to measure themselves according to prophetic standards and therefore the Bible had remained a moral challenge for them (Kaplan 2007, p. 337).27 Heschel did not have a territorialist view of the land of Israel. He embraced a biblical and prophetic perspective: a person had to deserve to live in the land. For Gandhi too, *swaraj* implied personal improvement and cooperation of all with all.

Heschel pleaded for Jewish–Muslim cooperation in 1967. In a chapter entitled "Jews, Christians, Arabs," he devotes some thoughts to "Arabs and Israel" (Heschel 1974, pp. 173– 89). As enthusiastic as he was with Israel of 1967, he did not forget the Arab neighbors. He wrote that in our world light and shadow are mingled: there is no wheat without chaff, no vineyard without weeds, no roses without thorns. There is joy over the rebirth of Israel but also pain over the suffering and bitterness in the Middle East (Heschel 1974, p. 173). Heschel cleaves to the original, prophetic dream: "Israel reborn is bound to be a blessing to the Arab world, to play a major role in their renaissance. The Arabs and the Israelis must be brought into mutual dependence by the supply of each other's wants. There is no other way of counteracting the antagonism" (Heschel 1974, pp. 182–83). He dreamed about communications running from Haifa to Beirut and Damascus in the North, to Amman in the East, and to Cairo in the South and about economic cooperation in agricultural and industrial development that could lead to supranational arrangements like the ones of the European Community. Young Israelis and Arabs could join in a mutual discourse of learning; excessive sums previously devoted to security could be diverted to development projects (Heschel 1974, pp. 184–85). Heschel asked from the nations in the Middle East to drop their antagonisms and antipathies, their hatred and fear, and demanded of them that they start to think in terms of one family. "The alternative to peace is disaster. The choice is to live together or to perish together" (Heschel 1974, p. 186). He ends with the words: "The Arabs and the Jews in addition to having a common background and history, early contacts and a prolonged and fertile symbiosis during the Middle Ages, have also another affinity in common: a heritage of suffering and humiliation". With the revival of Israel and the resurgence of the Arab nations, one faces many problems, according to Heschel, but cooperation was a vital necessity and a blessing for both (Heschel 1974, pp. 188–89).

With his theology that strived for the liberation of all, Heschel demanded that Jews and Arabs come to a covenant of brothers (*berit ahim*). He asked the perennial Jewish question: what is required from us now, what is the *Halakha* (the law)? The *Halakha* was to make peace with the Arabs, and, with this, he followed his prophetic vision of *shalom*. 28 Heschel told the story of Rabbi Ben Zion Uziel, who posited himself between two fighting camps and proposed to make peace: "Make your peace with us and we shall make peace with you and together we shall enjoy God's blessings on this holy land." He addressed the Arabs as "our dear cousins": "Our common father, Abraham, the father of Isaac and of Ishmael, when he saw that his nephew Lot was causing him trouble [ ... ] said to him: 'Let there be no quarrel between me and you, and between your shepherds and my shepherds, for we are people like brothers.' We also say to you, this land can sustain all of us and provide for us in plenty. Let us then, stop fighting each other, for we too, are people like brothers" (Heschel 1974, pp. 177–78).

In a mystical mood, { XE "Halevi" } { XE "Kook" } Heschel felt the hidden light in *Erets Yisrael* (the land of Israel). After the Shoah, in which there was no divine intervention, he again felt the wings of the *Shekhina* in *Erets Yisrael*. Yet, he also felt the pain of lack of fulfillment. He sensed that the return of the people was due to divine intervention. However, the people of Israel had to return to God in *qedusha* (holiness).

In Pinchas Peli's interview with { XE "Peli" } Heschel, conducted in Hebrew and broadcasted on Israeli television in 1971, Heschel spoke as a man with vision, who wanted an exemplary life in Israel, inspired by the prophets. He saw the continuation of the biblical narrative in the land of Israel. Concomitantly, he was concerned about the situation of the Arabs (Heschel 1974, pp. 25–26). Although he was convinced that Judaism was intimately connected to a concrete people with a concrete land, he was not a territorialist.

Gandhi's view on Zionism was far removed from Heschel's approach, but they both had a staunch belief in communication and dialogue. These two towering spiritual men were convinced that their respective traditions were an enormous contribution to the betterment of humankind. Their liberation theology criticized a mere nationalism without inner transformation of the human being. Gandhi broadened the traditional meaning of *swaraj*. For him, it was never merely political; it was first of all an ethical program. Similarly, in Heschel's view, the State of Israel was a means in order to realize a just society.

## **5. Conclusions**

Heschel and Gandhi protested without fear against unjust and discriminating laws. Before the famous march from Selma to Alabama, closely followed by the FBI, Heschel read Ps. 27 in a chapel: "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?" (Heschel 1998, p. 134). Away from the disastrous and all devouring fire of violence, Heschel and Gandhi marched for justice and for the liberation of all, for the Vietnamese as well as for the Americans, for the Hindus as well as for the British. Gandhi did so in *satyagraha* and Heschel in prophetic sympathy with the divine pathos. They did not react to violence with violence. Gandhi referred to *ahimsa* as the praxis of not causing harm to living beings, while Heschel contrasted the unbearable human violence with the prophetic perception of the silent sigh (Heschel 1962, p. 9). They opposed killings and white supremacy and envisioned a more equal society. Their remarkable religiosity expressed itself in non-cooperation and in the moral battle against human suffering and humiliation. Heschel never met Gandhi, but their thoughts and actions were correlative. If a meeting between these two giants of the spirit would have taken place, they would have had much to say to each other as two profoundly religious persons, who inserted a humanist religiosity in economic, social, and political life.

**Funding:** No external funding.

**Institutional Review Board Statement:** Not applicable.

**Informed Consent Statement:** Not applicable.

**Data Availability Statement:** Not applicable.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **Notes**

<sup>2</sup> For a characterization of Merton's and Heschel's religiosity: (Magid 1998).

<sup>1</sup> I would like to thank Ithamar Theodor and Wolfgang Palaver for their thoughtful comments on an earlier draft of this article.


of the population of India is "untouchable" and the discriminating and marginalizing phenomenon persists. Given this context, conversion of untouchables to other religions becomes attractive (Rambachan 2015, pp. 169–70).


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