The Power of Speech

One of the major themes of parshat Balak is the power of speech. Bilam's ass upsets the natural order and answers his rider back. Bilam goes out on a mission to curse the Israelites and finds himself involuntarily blessing them instead.

Language is one of humankind's defining characteristics. Each human culture, from the most primitive to the most advanced, is built on a rich network of signs and symbols that allow people to communicate, reflect, plan and work together. Language makes thoughts public, and thereby available to scrutiny. According to Vygotsky, it is this function of language that makes possible the higher order thinking that is so characteristic of humans and so notably absent from other species.

The juxtaposition in parshat Balak of a talking ass and a prophet who can't control his own speech seem designed to emphasize the limits of human power over words. These stories seem to say: You're not as different from animals as you might think; sometimes words control you rather than the other way around.

The week of parshat Balak this year was a traumatic one in Israel. It began with the discovery, in shallow graves near Hebron, of the bodies of three Jewish-Israeli teenagers who were kidnapped and murdered three weeks ago on their way home from a hike. This tragedy was compounded with the discovery later the same week of an additional body - this time, of an Arab teenager from East Jerusalem. The Israeli police have yet to conclude their investigation into the motives and circumstances of the latter murder. But current indications suggest that this was a revenge killing by Jewish extremists.

With depressing inevitability, these tragic events have set off another round of escalating violence in our region, from riots in Jerusalem to missiles and bombing raids in the south. Reading the newspapers on days like these is never easy. On Thursday, I found it even harder. A small article, almost a sidebar to the raging violence documented elsewhere, reported comments by Rabbi Noam Perel, the head of World Bnei Akiva, on his personal Facebook page, calling for the Israeli army to undertake reprisal attacks on Palestinians. “An entire nation and thousands of years of history demand revenge,” wrote Perel. In an allusion to the bible’s account of one of King David’s most violent raids, Perel went on to call for the IDF not to stop “at 300 Philistine foreskins … this disgrace will be paid for with the blood of the enemy, not with our tears.”

 Bnei Akiva is a religious Zionist youth movement with an impressive history of values education and social activism.  In the early nineties, before moving to Israel, I served as national director of the movement in the UK. I was, and remain, appalled by Rabbi Perl's comments. In their violence and irresponsibility, they contradict everything I valued in Bnei Akiva's educational philosophy: leading by example; integrating Jewish values with social responsibility; and engaging creatively and open-mindedly with the challenges of contemporary Israeli life.

I rarely sign petitions. But after reading the article about Rabbi Perel's comments, I signed a petition calling for him to be removed from his position (see the petition at: http://www.atzuma.co.il/dismissravperl and a news item on Bnei Akiva members’ outrage:  http://tlv1.fm/news/so-much-to-say/2014/07/03/bnei-akiva-outraged-at-its-own-secretary-generals-call-for-revenge/ ).

I don't know Rabbi Perel personally and I have read carefully his apologies for the offense caused by his remarks. His regret is thorough and heartfelt. Sadly, however, incitement to violence is not something that can be simply forgiven and forgotten. Once spoken or written, words are no longer in our control. Like missiles after they have been fired, the eventual impact of calls to violence is unknowable. Words can be regretted, even retracted and deleted, but they can't be unspoken or unwritten. 

That is why I believe Rabbi Perel must go. An educational leader has a special responsibility to weigh each and every word with the utmost care. In these dark and troubled times, we cannot count on divine intervention to turn our curses into blessings. 

May this shameful episode remind us of the power of words and the responsibilities of leadership. And let us resolve to use our own words to pursue peace, not to sow hatred.

Leadership for the sake of heaven

This week I visited the Mandel Leadership Institute’s website. As usual, the homepage featured three articles about recent events: the Bimat Mandel session on IDF ceremonies; a pilot program for the heads of youth movements in Israel,and an article welcoming the new fellows of the Mandel Scholars in Education program.I tried to read through the eyes of an outsider unfamiliar with the Mandel Institute, and the following thoughts occurred to me:

1. Wow!
2. What is this Institute? I've heard of the Mandel School for Educational Leadership, but the Army? Doctoral students? Youth movements? All in one place? What do all these things have in common?
By the way, this was no coincidence. Even if he'd entered the website a month ago, the casual visitor would have found a different, equally impressive selection: educational leadership development programs in the Haredi (Ultra-Orthodox) community, discussions of Jewish peoplehood, and more.

So what do they all share?

I believe they share one thing: leadership for the sake of heaven

And what is leadership for the sake of heaven? I may have coined the phrase, but not the idea.

The idea is adapted from the Talmudic concept, “mahloket le’shem shamayim” – a dispute for the sake of heaven, the goal of which is not to defeat the other, but to strive together with him for the truth.

What then is leadership for the sake of heaven? It is leadership that aims not to exert power over the other, but to work together with him for the greater good.

The Mishna in Pirkei Avot (6:17) states that the antithesis of “a dispute for the sake of heaven” is the dispute described in next week’s Torah portion, that of Korach and his followers. Based on this interpretation, the only thing that mattered to Korach was the question of who has more power i.e., Why is Moshe in charge and not me?

At the Mandel Institute, the questions that occupy us are not “how to accumulate power” or “how  to win the rat race to this or that senior position,” bur rather “to what good am I striving and how can this vision be transformed into reality.”

This approach, of leadership for the sake of heaven, is the trait shared by all the Mandel Institute’s programs, and it stems from its founders’ worldview.

Some measure Mr. Mandel’s contribution to education in Israel in dollars. By that measure, he is undoubtedly one of the largest donors. The total sum amounts to hundreds of millions of dollars.

But, in my opinion, and I believe also in his opinion, Mr. Mandel’s true contribution to Israel cannot be not measured in dollars, or even in the number of programs or buildings bearing his name, and those of his brothers.

The sole, relevant measure for him is: “How much good are we doing in the world? And can we do more?”

The programs and institutions, including the Mandel Leadership Institute, are a means, not an end. The end of our endeavor is a State of Israel that is more just and truer to its Jewish and humanist values – a State of Israel where all its citizens live in dignity.

Dear graduates,

A wise man once said, “It’s all about who.”

In the spirit of leadership for the sake of heaven, I would add: “It’s all about who, but it’s not all about you.”

You are talented people, each and every one of you. And I say this on the basis of personal acquaintance. But your, and our, success will not be measured by how far you go as individuals. It will be measured by how much good you do along the way.

I know that you will succeed, so there is no need to wish you success. I wish for you only that the journey be surprising and inspiring.

Taken from Dr. Eli Gottlieb’s Speech at the Mandel Leadership Institute Graduation Ceremony on June 10, 2014 at the Bible Lands Museum 

The Value of Patience

Parashat Vayetze contains one of the bible's most romantic verses.

"And Jacob worked seven years for Rachel; and they seemed to him but a few days, because of his love for her" (Genesis 29:20)

              

It's a beautiful idea. But it seems to run counter to everyday experience. In general, when you are looking forward to something, time seems to pass more slowly than usual. Indeed, the more you are looking forward to it, the slower time seems to pass.  Who among us has not sat waiting for the end of the school day, looked at the clock, and wondered when the minute hand ground to a halt?

So how did Jacob's love for Rachel make his seven years of labor pass more quickly? Why didn't it have the opposite effect, of making them feel interminable?

Perhaps the following observation helps explain: Waiting for something over which you have no control or agency is not the same as waiting for something towards which you are actively working.  When you're at the mercy of someone else's schedule or impersonal objective forces, time slows down. But when you are actively working towards a goal, each moment that passes is one in which you're doing something specific to bring that goal closer. This can sometimes make it feel as if the time is passing more quickly.

Unlike the student waiting for the freedom bell to ring, Jacob's destiny is in his own hands. Each day worked is another day closer to marrying Rachel. Though the distance is great and the steps small, Jacob contributes each day, through his own labor, to bringing his goal closer.

In leadership and education, patience is an underrated virtue. People - boards, parents, employees, clients - want results, and they want them now (if not yesterday)! But real change, profound learning and sustainable progress are all things that take time.

Leaders, especially educational leaders, are rarely in control of the pace with which they progress towards their goals. This is because the kinds of goals they set themselves are ones that depend at least as much on other people, and complex environmental factors, as they depend on their own actions. 

One of the things that distinguishes successful leaders from others, however, is their determination to do whatever they can, whenever they can, to bring their goals closer. Rather than waiting for things to happen, they use all the resources at their disposal to help make them happen. Put more succinctly, successful leaders practice, "active patience."

I have the good fortune (and sound judgement!) to work in an organization that embodies this kind of active patience. Unlike many philanthropic organizations, the Mandel Foundation doesn't seek quick fixes or magic bullets. It also doesn't believe in making short term investments. Instead, it consistently takes the slower, more certain path, of long-term investment in outstanding people. And it looks for impact not on timescales of weeks or months, but of decades and generations.

My wish to all our staff, on this Rosh Hodesh Kislev, is that each small step we take towards our goals of a thriving education system and a more decent society feel to us, as Jacob's labors felt to him, like mere moments. May our commitment and active contribution, day by day, to achieving these goals give us the strength and patience to see our efforts transform vision into reality.

Heads and Tails - A New Year's Greeting

Jews rarely underestimate the significance of food. According to an ancient custom, special prayers are recited over particular delicacies on Rosh Hashana to symbolize our wishes for the new year. Most famous is the reciting over apple dipped in honey of a prayer for a "good and sweet year." An older and (understandably) less widespread custom is the eating of a fish head and reciting "let us be as a head and not as a tail."

The intent of this prayer seems clear: that we should lead, achieve, and choose our own path rather than follow, lag behind or be subject to the whims of others. However, rabbinic tradition does not look equally on all heads and tails. As Rabbi Matyah ben Heresh urges (Avot 4:15), "Be a tail to lions and be not a head to foxes." Context matters. So does the company we keep. 

Choosing our company wisely requires effort. It is easier to stick with the familiar and to move with the crowd. And foxes are cunning; some even know how to dress as lions. 

May the coming year be one in which we have the wisdom always to know lions from foxes, and when to lead and when to follow. 

Heschelian "text-people", telling it how you see it, and leading by example

At the beginning of this week's portion, Parshat Va'ethanan, Moses relates to the Israelites how he begged God to be allowed to enter the Land of Israel and how God refused his request. But then Moses does something that seems both uncharacteristic and "unleaderly": He blames the people for his predicament (Deuteronomy 3:26): 

וַיִּתְעַבֵּר יְהוָה בִּי לְמַעַנְכֶם, וְלֹא שָׁמַע אֵלָי

But the LORD was wroth with me for your sakes, and hearkened not unto me

I shared my puzzlement with a participant in one of our programs, who suggested to me the following interpretation.  Moses's rebuke of the people at this point in their history, and in this way, was actually a very brave act, and a true moment of leadership.  Moses had proven throughout his tenure as the Israelites' leader his readiness to put his own life on the line to protect them. Indeed, at the Israelites' lowest ebb, after the Golden Calf episode, Moses dissuaded God from destroying the entire nation by offering to be blotted out in their place (see Exodus 32:32). It is implausible, therefore, to suspect Moses of being self-centered or callously blaming the people for his own failings. And it is not just we readers who know this. Moses knows it too. That is what enables him to hold up a mirror to the people and to tell them the truth as he sees it, even when it would be easier to let sleeping dogs lie.

According to this interpretation, Moses's rebuke of the people is actually a remarkable act of leadership. Moses led the people on an amazing journey and transformed them from a band of slaves into a powerful nation. What could be more tempting, as life is about to end, than to ensure his legacy by speaking comfortingly and flatteringly to the people, and leaving their feathers unruffled? But no, Moses, chooses instead to tell them some painful truths, even at the risk of their anger and his future reputation.

I was reminded of this interpretation later in the week, when we concluded another cohort of one of our leadership programs. It was clear to all involved in the program that this had been a remarkable year, full of transformative learning and the cultivation of meaningful relationships among the participants and between the participants and our faculty. In the summary session, the appreciation in the room for the program's director was palpable. 

In my head, I connected the feelings in that room with the above thoughts about Moses's rebuke. As occasionally happens, the still-forming thoughts in my head didn't exit my mouth in quite the way I intended. So, in the spirit of that wonderful French phrase - l'esprit de l'escalier - here's what I wish I'd said:

You might think that your program director thinks that you are special, and that that's why she worked so hard to create profound learning experiences for you.  Let me let you into a secret. She doesn't. She will always be happy to hear from you and of your progress. But she's not waiting for your emails or calls.  All the passion, creativity, deep thinking, and hard work that she poured into her time with you this year comes from another, much purer place. She is an educator, an educational leader, whose passion is to help other educators to do better, more thoughtful, work and to live more creative professional lives. What matters to her is not how you feel personally about her or the program. The only thing that really matters to her is the way you think and act as educators after it. 

Yes, as the Mandel Foundation's founder and chairman, Mort Mandel, reminds us, it's all about who. But it's not all about you! Being a leader means leading wherever and whenever you find yourself faced with opportunities to do good and to make the world a better place.

When I asked your director to lead this program, she said yes. But she also made clear to me that she thought there might be better ways for her to use her talents, and she wanted to know my rationale. Like Moses, she wasn't afraid to argue with her boss or to tell the truth as she sees it. And that's one of the main reasons you appreciate her so much. She is always ready, mirror in hand, to point out where you've got more work to do. And she will not rest until she's helped you to build up the courage to look into that mirror and to do something about what you see.

That passion, commitment and strength of character are what we mean by educational leadership. It's education of the kind that Abraham Joshua Heschel had in mind when he wrote (in “The Spirit of Jewish Education.” Jewish Education, Fall 1953, pp. 9-20): "What we need more than anything else is not textbooks but text people."

Leadership and Silence – Part 2

A second instance of silence and leadership In Numbers 31 occurs when the army returns from its battle with the Midianites. Moses sees that, although they have killed all the Midianite males, they have taken captive the women and children. Moses's reaction (Numbers 31:14) is to become enraged at the officers:

וַיִּקְצֹף מֹשֶׁה עַל פְּקוּדֵי הֶחָיִל שָׂרֵי הָאֲלָפִים וְשָׂרֵי הַמֵּאוֹת הַבָּאִים מִצְּבָא הַמִּלְחָמָה. 

And Moses was wroth with the officers of the host, with the captains over thousands, and captains over hundreds, which came from the battle.

Rashi interpreted Moses's anger as follows:

ויקצף משה על פקודי החיל. ממנים על החיל, ללמדך שכל סרחון הדור תלוי בגדולים שיש כח בידם למחות: 

"And Moses was wroth with the officers of the host" - Those appointed over the army; to teach you that the transgression of an entire generation hangs on the great among them, who have the power to protest.

In other words, according to Rashi, Moses's anger is directed at the officers in particular because they remained silent when they should have spoken out. This reminds me of John Stewart Mill's (1867) statement that: "Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends than that good men should look on and do nothing."

Leaders spend much of their time leading through words and actions. But some of the most crucial moments of leadership are - for better or worse - moments of silence or inaction. Indeed it is on such moments that one's entire mission as a leader sometimes hangs.

Leadership and Silence – Part 1

I've written in the past about quiet leadership, the kind that speaks with a "still, small voice" (I Kings 19:12; see my blog entry for Rosh Hashanah 5773).  Today, I want to focus more specifically on silence. These thoughts have their roots in a combination of my reading of the second chapter in this week's parasha (מטות-מסעי) and of losing my voice for a few days last week.

I was surprised to find that saying less at work actually forced me to give more space to others and helped me to focus on essentials rather than get caught up in details.  My frustrations at this temporary physical limitation also reminded me how much ego is involved in running meetings, asking questions, teaching, and so on. I'm tempted to recommend that everyone try leading in complete silence for a whole day, every once in a while. It's definitely good for the soul, and it's probably also good for business!

Numbers 31 includes two incidents related to leadership and silence. The first occurs at the start of the chapter (verses 1-3), when God commands Moses to wage war against the Midianites:

א וַיְדַבֵּר יְהוָה אֶל-מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר.  ב נְקֹם נִקְמַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל מֵאֵת הַמִּדְיָנִים אַחַר תֵּאָסֵף אֶל-עַמֶּיךָ.  ג וַיְדַבֵּר מֹשֶׁה אֶל-הָעָם לֵאמֹר הֵחָלְצוּ מֵאִתְּכֶם אֲנָשִׁים לַצָּבָא וְיִהְיוּ עַל-מִדְיָן לָתֵת נִקְמַת-יְהוָה בְּמִדְיָן.  

1 And the LORD spoke unto Moses, saying: 2 'Avenge the children of Israel of the Midianites; afterward shalt thou be gathered unto thy people.' 3 And Moses spoke unto the people, saying: 'Arm ye men from among you for the war, that they may go against Midian, to execute the LORD'S vengeance on Midian.

Rashi comments on verse 3:

וידבר משה וגו' . אף על פי ששמע שמיתתו תלויה בדבר עשה בשמחה ולא אחר

"And Moses spoke unto the people, etc" - Even though he heard that his death hang upon it, he did it joyously and did not delay.

In other words, even though Moses knew that God intended to take his life immediately after he completed this assignment, he approached the task with the same commitment and enthusiasm with which he fulfilled all God's commandments.

Moses's conspicuous silence and obedience at a moment so heavy with tragic personal implications is perhaps one of his most outstanding acts of leadership. Moses was not afraid to confront God, or even to bargain with Him. But one of the things that made him a great leader was his ability to know when to speak out and when to remain silent; when to lead and when to follow.

Though there is a tendency to think of leadership as a character trait, it is more like a practice: something one does rather than something one is. All great leaders have the ability not only to lead loudly from the front but also to push gently from behind, to guide quietly from the side, and, yes, also to follow, when that is what the situation requires. Moses's silence in verse 3 communicates louder than any words his total commitment to fulfilling God's commandments and establishing His kingdom on earth. Indeed, it is perhaps the most eloquent statement he ever made about his vision and values.

The Twilight Zones of Leadership

At the start of the Institute’s academic year in September, I mentioned a mishna in Masechet Avot (“Ethics of the Fathers”) that talks about ten things that were created during twilight.

One of them is the “mouth of the ass”, which appears in this week’s Torah portion, Parshat Balak. The ass in question belongs to Bilam, and when Bilam beats her she reprimands him, as it is written (Numbers 22: 27-28):

And Bilam was furious and beat the ass with his stick. Then the Lord opened the ass’s mouth, and she said to Bilam, “What have I done to you that you have beaten me these three times?”

We at the Mandel Leadership Institute are experts at creations such as the mouth of the ass.

Not because Mandel Foundation president, Professor Reinharz, is writing a book about the donkey in history, and not, heaven forbid, because the Institute is a production line for talking asses, but because the Institute is a place – just like twilight is a time – in which special things are created.

Just like twilight is neither day nor night, but a kind of threshold between them, so, too, the Mandel Leadership Institute is a sort of threshold – a liminal borderline, a twilight zone: between academia and the professional field; between vision and reality; between where you came from and where you’re going; between who you used to be, and who you will become. It’s a place where the obvious and evident are no longer taken for granted, a creative space in which exceptional, groundbreaking things are created.

It’s no coincidence that MLI is a threshold. Leadership and education are both activities that take place in thresholds: between the familiar and the unfamiliar, between present and future, between what people can do and what's beyond their capacity.

The role of leaders and educators is to bring people to the threshold and help them cross it, and reach a goal that is sometimes difficult even to imagine before one sets off on the journey.

MLI is a threshold, and thresholds are fragile places; that's why there are gatekeepers. Outside forces can easily break through and destroy the safe spaces created inside. And just as easily, those inside can shut themselves off into stifling seclusion, becoming deaf and blind to what's happening outside.

My wish for our alumni and graduates, is that they succeed in taking back with them, to the stormy vitality of the field, the threshold spirit that they experienced at the Institute, and that they will be “threshold people”: committed but not dogmatic; open, but also determined; courageous, but also modest; leaders who are not dragged along with the herd, but who also don’t cut themselves off from the community. It’s a difficult challenge, but one they can overcome. May they succeed and thrive!

Taken from Dr. Eli Gottlieb’s Speech at the Mandel Leadership Institute Graduation Ceremony on June 17, 2013 at the Israel Museum 

Arguments for the Sake of Heaven

At last year's graduation ceremony, I quoted one of the children of Rabbi Ariav Yust, a fellow in Cohort 19 of the Mandel School for Educational Leadership. When asked what the Mandel Leadership Institute is, his answer was: "That's where dad argues a lot."

The Institute is indeed a place of many arguments. The type of argument that takes place here is what the sages called "an argument for the sake of heaven" – arguments whose goal is not to defeat the other, but rather to attempt to reach the truth together. According to the Mishnah in Avot (Chapter 5, Mishnah 17), the antithesis of an argument for the sake of heaven is the argument of Korach and his followers, as described in this week's Torah portion. According to this interpretation, all that mattered to Korach were the questions: Who has more power? Why is Moses the boss and not me?

The Mishnah uses Korach as a symbol, but there is a little Korach in each of us. Everyone has an ego, and in the real world there is no dispute that is entirely free of personal motives. But just as each of us has a little Korach inside of us, there is also within us a little Moses - a leader with values, driven by vision, who does not demand honor, but rather, “in a place where there is no man,” tries to be a man.

If someone were to ask me to explain what the Mandel Leadership Institute is while standing on one foot, I would say that it is a home for leaders for the sake of heaven. At the Institute, we do not try to change human nature. We are trying to build a home for educational leaders where arguments for the sake of heaven are the norm and not the exception.

There are those who would accuse us of being disconnected from reality, of living in a bubble: "It might be like that at Mandel, but in the real world it's different."

There's definitely room to ask ourselves anew each day whether we are sufficiently involved in society and whether we can do more. However, I never apologize for the bubble that we have created here. This bubble is a real social need and more precious than gold. The rules of the game here – listening and criticism; lateral thinking and long-term planning; a discourse that connects theory and practice; a meeting between different sectors and world views; and even more basic practices, such as always arriving on time and being prepared in advance – are indeed rare in the professional worlds from which you come and to which you will return.

But the world inside the Institute is no less real than the outside world. On the contrary: the fact that here, at the Institute, we can live like this, proves that this is a viable alternative.

In 1897 John Dewey wrote in "My Pedagogic Creed": "I believe that education ... is a process of living and not a preparation for future living."

We believe the same thing. The studies at the Mandel Leadership Institute are not a preparation for future living, but rather, they are themselves a way of life. Yes, it is harder outside. But here at the Institute one can see how things can be different. What the fellows do at the Institute, day after day, week by week, are things that can continue to be done – although in different proportions and in different ways – in the "real world" outside.

To succeed in this difficult task, every Mandel graduate must – paradoxically – leave the Institute and go it alone. As Wittgenstein's wrote in Philosophical Investigations: "He must, so to speak, throw away the ladder after he has climbed up on it."

In order to bring your educational visions to life you will have to build yourselves your own bubbles – each of you in your own professional setting – a bubble within which to live, think and act differently.

I don’t need to wish you success because I know that you will succeed. So, instead, my wish for you is that the path to success will be pleasant, surprising and inspiring.

Excerpts from remarks by Dr. Eli Gottlieb at the Mandel Leadership Institute end-of-year celebrations, June 19, 2012