Assuming you haven’t been living under a rock this week, you’ve been talking about agunot.
We may all have different views on the methods—on what creates change, what tools are justified, and why. But what the online discourse this week truly shows is the deep sense of confusion and frustration many of us feel when confronting the issue of get refusal.
To tell you the truth, I get it. I am fortunate to be one of those annoying people who love my job, but I have days—seasons, even—when I wonder why in the world I choose to devote my days (and many nights) to an issue that has continued for thousands of years. When it comes to eradicating the issue of agunot, the circumstances can feel depressing—and when they do, we often look away.
Like abuse in general, get refusal is one of those things that feel like it only happens elsewhere. “You must be mostly working with charedi communities,” Modern Orthodox people will comment. “Those modern folks must keep you busy,” the charedi tell me. But the bad news for everyone is that this isn’t actually true. While tools like the Halachic Prenup can change the demographics of igun, get withholding and extortion happen everywhere. Wherever you are right now, it happens there, too. (In fact, I’ve often found that the communities that say, “We don’t have a get refusal problem here!” have some of the worst challenges of all.)
Get refusal indeed happens everywhere—and because of that, we all have a role to play. While there are faces you might immediately think of when you hear the word “agunah,” in addition to the advocacy community, there are many unsung heroes who are helping agunot. I’m thinking of a rabbi who told a get refuser he was unable to be part of his community until he gave his wife a get, and followed through with that expulsion from shul, even at great personal cost. I’m thinking of the attorneys who spend their days litigating corporate disputes and have precious little time to themselves as it is, yet respond to emails requesting pro bono support with “I’m in.” I’m thinking of a particular group of friends—young, close-knit, not an agunah advocate among them—who told another member of their group that they could not continue this friendship unless he issued the get. (Spoiler alert: He gave the get two days later.)
I’m thinking, as well, of so many agunot. People often ask me about the “hashkafa” of igun–how do I keep my faith in God and Judaism strong, when I hear so many terrible tales? The honest answer is that when I am running low on emunah, it’s agunot who lift me up—who share a concept, a word of Torah, a note that keeps me going. One particular agunah wears a tambourine necklace to every court and beit din appearance, so that when she finally gains her freedom, she is ready to celebrate. She never, ever doubts that day will come.
Currently, the Rabbinical Council of Bergen County (RCBC) is publicizing a case of get refusal, that of Ari Satz, who is chaining his former wife, Chavi. This is not a simple situation to take on—Satz is litigious and vindictive, as has been covered in these pages. But the RCBC is moving ahead, because right now, this is what needs to be done.
In just a few short weeks, we’ll celebrate Purim. And while we enjoy the fun and chaos of the day, getting fancy with our hamantashen flavors (I’m thinking cookie butter) and assembling themed mishloach manot, let’s not forget that our celebration really hinges on a moment. Esther stood in Achashverosh’s palace and had to make a decision: Would she step up to help the Jewish people, or sit back? The choice was risky, and could have easily ended differently—ancient history is full of narratives of leaders who murdered their wives. The strength of Esther is not in how things turned out, and her ultimate success—instead, we see Esther’s glory in the decision to go forward into the unknown, letting the chips fall.
As Esther weighs her decision, Mordechai famously reminds her that if she does not step forward, salvation will come to the Jewish people another way. This was Esther’s moment, and it would not come again, no matter what happened in the end. It was the moment that mattered, not the result. We honor this moment in our history on ORA’s annual Agunah Awareness Shabbat this week—remembering in this time of joy the work that’s still undone.
We don’t all have to agree on the best approach to free agunot. But we can all agree that this is a moment—and it’s up to us to use it to move forward. I challenge you to choose one way you can help an agunah this week; the options are both big and small, with ideas listed below. But let’s take a step forward.
I will warn you in advance: Advocating for agunot is not always easy. It can come with risk. It may take trial and error to find the right way for you to help. And hey, if not for us, help might come in another form, in another generation. But let it be us.
Let us, like Esther, find the courage to step forward, even without knowing the result. Let’s find the courage to protect our fellow Jews. This is a moment—let’s grasp it with both hands.
How Can You Help?
- Sign a Halachic Prenup (or tell a friend to).
- Attend a rally against a get refuser. (You can sign up for ORA’s email list to find out about the next one.)
- Host a postnup party to spread the word about this issue. (Plus, it’s fun.)
- Volunteer your professional expertise—are you an attorney, therapist or service provider? Use your skills to help agunot.
- Accompany a woman to beit din for support. (Contact ORA for more information.)
- Bring a program about agunot to your community.
- Sign your shul up for Agunah Awareness Shabbat!
For these resources and more, visit ORA’s website: www.getora.org
