In the ancient world – as in parts of our own world today – women were often seen as dangerous: seductive, destabilizing, their very presence liable to lead men into forbidden terrain.
One way of dealing with this imagined threat was to erase the woman. Cover her up. Restrict her movement. Keep her at home. Make her less visible in public. That, for example, was common in the Roman world.
But there was another possibility.
In the sermon attributed to Jesus in the Gospel according to Matthew, a man who looks at a woman with lust is told: if your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out.
The image is extreme, of course, but the principle matters: responsibility for desire lies with the person who desires – not with the woman he is looking at.
That is an enormous moral distinction.
Even if you subscribe to a worldview in which the presence of a woman poses a sexual or religious challenge, dealing with that challenge is your responsibility, not hers.
You do not get to turn her into an object to be moved aside so that you can comfortably maintain your way of life.
I, of course, reject the premise altogether. Women are not first and foremost sexual objects, any more than men are. We are human beings – thinking and acting subjects, researchers, soldiers, students, drivers, and doctors.
But I am liberal enough to let you think otherwise.
What I am not prepared to “accommodate” is a situation in which accommodating your beliefs means making me disappear.
If looking at me threatens you, look away. If sitting beside me is too enticing, do not sit beside me. If my presence in public threatens your worldview, it is your responsibility to find a way to live with that threat. Stay home. Wear opaque glasses.
Or, in Jesus’s version, pluck out your eyes. But do not demand that I disappear so that you can remain.
Avoiding a woman’s handshake because it is more than just a handshake. A woman’s face on a billboard is not just a picture.
Demands that women not teach in a particular classroom, or not serve alongside men, are not a random collection of minor “accommodations” for a religious population.
Turning the language of accommodation around
In every case, the same principle is being established: when a man’s beliefs collide with a woman’s presence, the woman is the one expected to move.
And once that principle is accepted, the next demand is never far behind.
If it is legitimate to insist on a male lecturer, why not a male prime minister? If we can create a course of study “free” of women, why not a military unit?
And if a woman’s presence is considered a legitimate reason to refuse to participate in a university program, why should it not also justify refusing to serve alongside her in a Namer, one of the IDF’s armored personnel carriers?
This is precisely how the language of “accommodation” gets turned on its head.
Coexistence does not mean one side gets to live according to its beliefs while the other is expected to shrink itself so as not to interfere. Pluralism is not the right to dictate who may be visible in the public sphere.
And liberalism does not require me to tolerate people who demand that I disappear.
Liberalism means accepting, at the deepest level, that people who live differently from me are entitled to a full place in our shared society.
A full place. Not behind a partition. Not outside the classroom. And not outside the Namer.
The writer is a professor of rabbinic Judaism, vice president for global engagement at Ben-Gurion University, and a senior fellow at the Jewish People Policy Institute. She was a visiting professor at Harvard and Yale.