Sovereignty and religious freedom explored in Simon Rabinovitch’s new book

Rabinovitch’s work on Judaism and law reveals tensions between communal rights and individual liberties in modern democracies.

Illustration by Fabrina Tiara

By Anna Fadiah and Hayu Andini

Simon Rabinovitch’s Sovereignty and Religious Freedom: A Jewish History is a timely and nuanced exploration of one of the most persistent tensions in modern liberal democracies: the struggle to balance communal traditions with individual rights. Centering on the concept of sovereignty and religious freedom, Rabinovitch’s narrative delves into the legal and philosophical challenges faced by Jewish communities in countries such as the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, France, South Africa, and Israel.

The core question Rabinovitch investigates is whether communal religious practices can coexist with individual freedoms in states where secular liberalism dominates public policy and jurisprudence. Sovereignty and religious freedom—weaves throughout his argument, as Rabinovitch portrays how Jewish law, or halakha, often stands at odds with civil law, and how communities attempt to reconcile this divide.

When individual rights meet communal obligations

The book opens with a reflection by the late Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, who once discussed the nature of Jewish tradition with historian Paul Johnson. Johnson, a Catholic, observed that Judaism’s rare balance between individual strength and communal resilience sets it apart from other traditions. Rabinovitch picks up this thread, illustrating how Jewish communities operate not simply as religious groups but as covenantal collectives whose survival depends on protecting internal coherence even amid liberal democratic norms.

In his analysis, Rabinovitch explores notable court cases to show where religious liberty, a synonym for sovereignty and religious freedom, either clashed with or was upheld by state authority. In the U.S., for example, attempts to compel Jewish husbands to participate in rabbinical divorce proceedings were blocked by secular courts that feared breaching the constitutional separation of church and state. Meanwhile, in South Africa, a fascinating counterpoint emerged: a court upheld a Jewish communal authority’s right to excommunicate a member, finding that preventing such action would infringe on the group’s right to practice religion freely.

These examples highlight Rabinovitch’s argument that the modern legal state has not rendered religious law irrelevant. Rather, sovereignty and religious freedom remain in constant negotiation, shaped by cultural context, legal precedent, and the adaptability of religious communities.

The eruv debate: law, space, and public perception

One of the more striking legal flashpoints Rabinovitch recounts involves the establishment of an eruv—a symbolic boundary that allows Orthodox Jews to carry objects within public spaces on the Sabbath. According to Talmudic tradition, the eruv creates a reshut ha-yahid, or private domain, by stringing nearly invisible wires across public areas.

In Montreal’s Outremont district, non-Jewish residents opposed the construction of such a boundary, claiming it would “Judaize” the area. Rabinovitch contends this reflects a fear of the symbolic transformation of space into something sacred. He argues that when courts upheld the creation of the eruv, they effectively recognized the constitutional right of a group to sacralize space for religious purposes.

Yet, the book’s analysis of the eruv controversy may overstate the spiritual implications. Critics of Rabinovitch point out that the eruv does not transform urban space into a temple or religious sanctuary. Rather, it serves a practical function rooted in Jewish law—permitting actions otherwise forbidden on the Sabbath. To suggest that such imperceptible wires impose sanctity on public space is to misunderstand the legal and religious significance of the boundary.

The real tension, then, is less about sacred space than about social discomfort. Those opposing the eruv are not engaged in jurisprudential debate but expressing unease with the visibility—or perceived presence—of religious minorities. This distinction is key in understanding how sovereignty and religious freedom operates not only in legal frameworks but also within cultural and emotional realms.

Religious freedom in the age of public health

Rabinovitch also touches on recent events that show how religious freedom is challenged under secular governance, particularly in times of crisis. During the Covid-19 pandemic, various governments imposed restrictions on public gatherings, which affected religious services. In New York, houses of worship were shut down while liquor stores remained open. This prompted legal challenges from groups like Agudath Israel of America and the Catholic Diocese of Brooklyn.

Justice Neil Gorsuch, concurring in a Supreme Court decision, famously criticized the unequal treatment, stating that facilitating inebriation while denying religious gathering amounted to religious discrimination. This decision highlighted a growing awareness that sovereignty and religious freedom are fragile rights in the face of sweeping government mandates.

The collaboration between Jewish and Catholic plaintiffs in these cases is especially revealing. Despite doctrinal differences, both groups recognized that their ability to live according to their faith was being threatened. Rabinovitch suggests that such alliances are likely to shape not only future litigation but also the political landscape of religious liberty in America.

Community, law, and the liberal state

Throughout the book, Rabinovitch emphasizes how Jewish communities have navigated the friction between traditional law and state authority through legal ingenuity, negotiation, and sometimes, confrontation. In countries like Israel, where Jewish law intersects with national policy, these tensions are particularly acute. But even in Western liberal democracies, where religion is supposedly a private matter, the collective nature of Jewish life poses a challenge to purely individualistic conceptions of rights.

Rabinovitch’s argument is that sovereignty and religious freedom must be understood as overlapping domains—each needing the other to survive. For religious communities to maintain their identity, they must have sovereignty over key practices. But for liberal democracies to maintain their coherence, they must ensure that religious practices do not infringe on the rights of others. The line between these principles is never static, always negotiated.

The future of religious liberty and pluralism

What emerges from Rabinovitch’s work is not a pessimistic view of growing conflict, but a hopeful vision of pluralism. By documenting the ways in which Jewish communities have adapted to modern legal structures—sometimes through compromise, other times through litigation—he offers a roadmap for how traditional religious groups might continue to thrive within secular societies.

His analysis reminds us that sovereignty and religious freedom are not abstract ideals but lived experiences, tested in courtrooms and contested in neighborhoods. The ongoing dialogue between faith communities and the state is central to the health of any liberal democracy.

Rabinovitch’s book is both a scholarly work and a timely contribution to the public debate about religious liberty, communal identity, and the rule of law. For anyone interested in how faith traditions can persist—and even flourish—amid secular modernity, Sovereignty and Religious Freedom offers both insight and inspiration.