Now hear this: There is no rivalry between Chabad House and Hillel.
At least that’s the party line here at Harvard. At many other universities, including fellow Ivy Princeton, Chabaders and Hillelians have duked it out in relationships at times openly hostile. At Harvard, however, the atmosphere is rather congenial.
HEAD TO HEAD
So, what’s the difference between Chabad and Hillel? In the words of Peretz Professor of Yiddish Literature Ruth R. Wisse, who is both a Chabad adviser and a Hillel faculty fellow, “Chabad is a religious organization that also functions on campus. Hillel is an organization specifically designed to provide Jewish college students with a chance to be Jews.”
Hillel International, the world’s largest Jewish campus organization, has been providing Harvard’s Jewish community with Judaism-oriented classes, activities, and, more recently, HUDS dinners a cut above standard fare since 1944. Its extra perks include the $8 million Hillel building’s prime Mt. Auburn Street location and flashy modern design. According to head Rabbi Avi Poupko, Hillel’s mission centers around the ideal of an open university community.
Chabad, on the other hand, is relatively new to Harvard, arriving here in 1997. Its somewhat less glass-tacular base of operation—also the home of Rabbi Hirschy Zarchi and his wife, Elkie—is past Mather House (yes, there is a “past Mather”) on Bank Street. The Zarchis take a very personal, “spiritual” approach to student contact. Indeed, as Wisse said in 2003, “The success of the Harvard Chabad House can be attributed entirely to the personality and energy of Hirsch Zarchi.”
Two groups, both aiming to celebrate Jewish culture and provide a community center for Jews and goyim to explore Judaism. Two centers on one campus targeting the same students seems like a recipe for a little West Side Story-style rumble action. What’s the deal?
Amy R. Schoenfeld ’07, a Hillel-goer, says in reference to competition between the groups, “I don’t find that here at all.” And most other students in the know concur—the organizations may have problems, but inter-group fighting is not one of them.
CHABAD: UNDER THE RADAR
Few people at Harvard have more than a passing familiarity with Chabad, and many say they haven’t heard of it at all. Hannah V. Brady ’08, who is not Jewish but has traveled extensively in Israel, says, “It’s weird that I haven’t heard about it before.” Christos N. Theophanous ’08, also not a Jew, admitted confusion: heard of Chabad? “Not even in passing.”
Chabad’s lack of advertising—President Rebecca M. Rohr ’08 says that “a lot of people hear about it from word of mouth”—may contribute to a mystique that can seem daunting. Alex P. Sloane ’09, now an “extraordinarily” satisfied Chabad devotee, says he was at first intimidated due to its small size, relatively low campus profile and reputation as a more serious and Orthodox atmosphere.
However, at Princeton in 2003, tempers flared when the university’s Center for Jewish life decided to deny a new Chabad chapter official recognition. The group’s “confrontational” recruitment tactics were cited as the main reason for the snub.
But what Rabbi Zarchi describes as Harvard Chabad’s spirit of “inreach”—“Outreach,” he says, “can imply that you’re in and someone else is out”—is still alive and well. “There’s nowhere we won’t go to make Judaism acceptable,” he says. “We try to come to [Jewish students].”
Chabad’s method of making its presence known was a draw for faculty adviser Frankfurter Professor of Law Alan M. Dershowitz. “I very much like their proselytizing tactics, as a First Amendment advocate,” Dershowitz wrote in a 2003 book about Chabad, “The Rebbe’s Army.” “I think it’s great that they get out there and ask people, ‘Have you put on tefillin today? Have you done a mitzvah today?’”
HOME AT HILLEL?
On the other hand, talk of a purported in-crowd at Hillel—where Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox Jews have separate prayer services and e-mail lists—surfaced more than once. Claire J. Saffitz ’09, who is unaffiliated with either group, says of the categorization, “I think it’s good that they do that.” But Saffitz adds, in reference to becoming more involved at Hillel, “I’d feel kind of weird walking in there now, when other people have been going since the beginning [of the year].”
On the Hillel side, the leadership keeps it positive. Rabbi Poupko says Chabad and Hillel “very much enjoy each other.” Hillel President Judy Z. Herbstman ’07 grants that the two groups “have different agendas [for] what it means to be Jewish,” but she says Chabad is “a wonderful partner in creating meaningful Jewish experience.” She says Hillel and Chabad are “synergistic,” and, in reference to those who would suggest a rivalry, “I think maybe people are just looking for the story.” Touché.
Rohr, like Herbstman, says both groups “work in tandem and complement each other.” Regarding Hillel’s separation of Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox classifications—described by Rabbi Poupko as “variety”—Rohr says that, for her personally, “the idea of labeling made me uncomfortable.”
At Chabad, these distinctions are out of fashion. Rabbi Zarchi calls them superficial. “They have so little meaning today, it’s silly to categorize people as such. We leave the labels at the door.”
Yet the point stands: the two groups seeking the same students at the same times simply accept the inherent competition in their coexistence and go about their respective business. For instance, both Rohr and Herbstman speak proudly of the recent Shabbat 1000 dinner, for which Chabad and Hillel together shouldered costs and hosting duties, and Rohr says that more similar events can be expected. As Rohr says, “There’s no rivalry.”
The bottom line? Officially, no conflict to be found. Students involved with one, both, or neither express satisfaction with their choices. And Chabad and Hillel, two student groups with more or less the same purpose, looking to attract the same members, have found a way to coexist, and even—G-d forbid—cooperate.