Rav Soloveitchik’s essay Kol Dodi Dofek has long been known for two things. First, and perhaps foremost, it is regarded as the Rav’s definitive statement on Religious Zionism and on the religious significance of the establishment of the State of Israel.1 Second, the opening sections of the essay provide the reader with a rare, and therefore all the more precious and challenging, discussion of the Shoah, divine justice, the problem of evil, and the proper response to these realities.
Since 2023, somewhat unexpectedly, Kol Dodi Dofek has occupied a central place in Israeli social and political discourse. In January of that year, the government introduced a far-reaching and highly controversial series of measures to reform the Israeli judiciary. The initiative was met with intense opposition, which quickly escalated into mass demonstrations and, at times, violence. These reactions and counterreactions stemmed from multiple causes, chief among them profound disagreements over the purpose of the State of Israel, its values, and its very identity. Israelis, especially those at the ideological extremes, were deeply alarmed by the prospect of either a religious or a progressive takeover of the country – one that, they feared, would undermine everything they held dear and ultimately force them to leave Israel. Some, primarily on the Left, and most ominously, among Air Force reservists, declared that if the reforms were enacted, they would refuse to serve in the IDF, arguing that such an Israel would no longer deserve their service or sacrifice. Most Israelis feared that the fissures in our society had become unbridgeable and that we were hurtling headlong toward the abyss.
Enter Kol Dodi Dofek.
In response to the growing polarization of Israeli society, literally hundreds of organizations and initiatives emerged to lower the flames and restore Jewish unity through dialogue and compromise. The largest of these is HaRiv’on HaRevi’i, whose thousands of participants reflect the full spectrum of Israeli society.
Its founder, Dr. Yoav Heller, who is not Orthodox, introduced the Rav’s distinction between brit goral and brit ye’ud – “a covenant of fate” and “a covenant of destiny” – as a compelling way to express the fundamental reality that, in the end, all Jews are bound by a shared historical fate and by a relentless history of persecution and hostility at the hands of successive manifestations of Amalek. This, Heller emphasized, is true regardless of the different ways Jews define or express their Jewish identity. As he quoted the Rav:
“We are all in the realm of a shared fate that binds together the different strata of the nation and does not distinguish between classes and individuals. Fate does not distinguish between nobility and common folk, between rich and poor, between a prince dressed in royal purple velvet and a poor man who goes begging from door to door, between a pious Jew and an assimilationist.”2
Heller’s invocation of brit goral reinforced and inspired many Israelis to distance themselves emotionally from the extremes of the judicial reform debate. It was adopted and widely cited, with explicit reference to the Rav and to Kol Dodi Dofek, by concerned Israelis ranging from President Herzog downward. Not everyone, of course, was persuaded.
Then came the horrors of October 7th and their aftermath, confirming the reality of brit goral even for many of those who had previously remained unconvinced – and underscoring the Rav’s remarkable prescience.
Today, Israelis overwhelmingly recognize and appreciate the reality of brit goral, despite the celebrated fractiousness of our political culture. There remains, as there always has been, an instinctive and unselfconscious sense of mutual belonging that binds us together, especially in times of crisis.
Nor has brit ye’ud been orphaned. The past three years have witnessed the emergence of a renewed brit ye’ud, as large numbers of Israelis, especially soldiers and reservists, who previously had little or no connection to Torah and mitzvot have increasingly sought out G-d and His Torah. This is not a mass movement of chazarah bi-teshuva. Nevertheless, there can be little doubt that Israelis today are more deeply connected to their Jewish identity than they were before October 7th, and that the Ribbono Shel Olam occupies a more prominent place both in their personal lives and in Israel’s public discourse.3
As the Rav taught, the covenant forged in Egypt inevitably leads to the foot of Mount Sinai.
1 Today, the full measure of the Rav’s Religious Zionist thought can only be taken if combined with Chamesh Derashot, Tel Aviv 2012; Al Ahavat ha-Torah u’Geu’lat Nefesh ha-Dor, in Be-Sod HaYahid ve-haYahad, Jerusalem 1976, 401–432; Community, Covenant and Commitment, ed. N. Helfgott, New York 2021, 163–246; and The Return to Zion – Addresses on Religious Zionism and American Orthodoxy, trans. S. Seidler-Feller. New York 2023. See, also, G. Blidstein, “A Religious Zionist Thinker,” Society and Self: On the Writings of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, New York 2012, 19–36 and the reflections of R. Mayer Lichtenstein, “The Rav’s Philosophy on the Land and State of Israel” at https://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/724719.
2 R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Kol Dodi Dofek: Listen-My Beloved Knocks, trans. David Z. Gordon and ed. Jeffrey R. Woolf, New York 2006, 55.
3 I discussed this development in an interview available here: https://danielgordis.substack.com/p/when-the-collapse-of-old-dreams-leads.
Rabbi Dr. Jeffrey R. Woolf is Associate Professor (ret.) in the Talmud Department of Bar-Ilan University. He studied for nearly a decade with Rav Soloveitchik and received semichah from him. He resides in Efrat.