Why Israeli Jews Spit on Christians

Itamar Ben-Gvir, the Israeli Minister of National Security, defends the act of spitting near Christian sites and on clergy by invoking an "ancient Jewish custom." To a modern, pluralistic sensibility, it appears as a straightforward act of bigotry, a visceral expression of sectarian hatred. However, to dismiss it merely as such is to ignore the complex, deeply rooted, and profoundly unsettling theological substratum. in Judaism, from which this practice springs. While the act itself is offensive and not representative of all Jews, Gvir’s assertion is not a complete fabrication; it is a radical and literalist manifestation of a historical and legalistic tradition within Judaism that grapples intensely with the problem of avodah zarah—idolatry. The custom of spitting, particularly in the context of passing a church or a cross, finds its basis in a confluence of Talmudic law, medieval Halakhic (Jewish legal) codification, Kabbalistic thought, all converging to define Christianity not merely as a rival faith, but as a form of idolatry that must be actively repudiated.

The entire theological framework rests upon the absolute and uncompromising monotheism enshrined in the Hebrew Bible’s core declaration, the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord is One” (Deuteronomy 6:4). This oneness is not numerical but qualitative; it precludes any division, partnership, or physical representation of the Divine. The prohibitions against idolatry are the most severe in Jewish law, and the mandate to eradicate it is a central biblical theme. The critical leap, from which all subsequent reasoning flows, was the categorization of Christianity by the Rabbis of the Talmud and early medieval period as falling under the rubric of avodah zarah for Jews.

This was not an inevitable conclusion. Early rabbinic Judaism had to navigate its existence within the Roman Empire and its successor states, where nascent Christianity, with its claim to be the "true Israel," posed a unique theological challenge. Unlike pure paganism, Christianity worshipped the God of Israel, but did so through a human figure, Jesus, and employed physical icons—the cross, later statues, and relics. For the Rabbis, the deification of a human being and the worship of a triune God constituted a violation of the fundamental principles of monotheism. The Talmud, in tractate Avodah Zarah (literally, "Idolatry"), lays the groundwork. While it primarily addresses Greco-Roman paganism, its legal and conceptual structures were applied by medieval authorities to Christianity.

The pivotal figure in solidifying this position was Moses Maimonides (1135-1204), the preeminent Jewish philosopher and legal codifier. In his monumental legal code, the Mishneh Torah, Maimonides explicitly addresses Christianity. In the Laws of Idolatry (Hilkhot Avodat Kochavim 9:4), he states:

"The teachings of the Nazarene [Jesus] and the Ishmaelite [Muhammad]… are only intended to pave the way for the Messiah King and to prepare the whole world to serve God together… Nonetheless, the thought of the Creator of the world is not accessible to them… How? They acknowledge the existence of God but err in their association with Him [shituf]."

The concept of shituf (literally, "partnership") is the linchpin. Maimonides argues that while non-Jews are bound by the seven Noahide laws—a universal ethical code—the prohibition for them against idolatry is absolute. For a Jew, however, worshipping God through shituf—by associating a secondary entity (like Jesus) with the one God—is considered idolatry. Christianity, with its doctrine of the Trinity and the incarnation, is the prime example of shituf. Therefore, for a Jew bound by the 613 commandments, participation in Christian worship or any action that could be construed as endorsement of its principles is strictly forbidden. This legal ruling provided the Halakhic justification for treating Christian symbols with the same severity as pagan idols.

It is from this foundation of Christianity-as-avodah zarah that the specific behaviors, including spitting, emerge. The Talmud itself discusses various acts of repudiation towards idolatry. In tractate Sanhedrin (63a), there is a discussion about what one must do when passing near a house of idol worship. The context is the biblical verse, "You shall not bring an abomination into your house" (Deuteronomy 7:26). The Rabbis derive from this a prohibition against deriving any benefit from idolatry, and by extension, a requirement to demonstrate one's rejection of it.

Spitting, as a gesture of contempt and disgust, has deep anthropological roots across cultures. Within the rabbinic framework, it was codified as a specific response to the sight of idolatry. The practice is explicitly mentioned in the context of seeing a place where idolatry had been uprooted. The Tosefta (a compilation of Jewish oral law from the same period as the Mishnah) in Avodah Zarah 5:1 states that one who sees a place where idolatry has been eradicated should recite a blessing, and the Talmud (Berakhot 57b) includes seeing a idolatrous site in a dream as something that should provoke spitting. The act was not initially directed at Christianity per se, but at the abstract concept of idolatry itself.

However, as Christianity became the dominant religion of Europe and its symbols—particularly the cross—became ubiquitous, the Talmudic injunctions were applied directly to them. Medieval commentators and legal decisors (poskim) began to explicitly link the act. The Sefer HaPardes, attributed to Rashi (1040-1105), instructs: "When one passes before a cross, he should close his eyes and spit." The Orchot Chayim (13th century), a Halakhic work by Rabbi Aaron of Lunel, rules similarly: "One who sees a church should say, 'Blessed is He who is slow to anger,' and when he passes by it, he should spit." The spitting was not an act of personal hatred towards a Christian individual, but a ritualized, legally prescribed performance of rejection towards the theological "abomination" the cross represented.

This practice was further amplified and mystically charged by the emergence of Kabbalah, the Jewish mystical tradition. In the Zohar, the central text of Kabbalah, the world is seen as a battleground between the forces of holiness (kedushah) and the forces of impurity (tumah). Idolatry is not merely a theological error but a tangible source of spiritual pollution, a manifestation of the sitra achra—the "other side." The cross, as the symbol of shituf, was seen as a powerful conduit for this impurity. The physical act of spitting, therefore, took on a mystical dimension. It was a ritual of spiritual hygiene, a way to actively eject and dispel the impurity one encountered in the proximity of such a symbol. The spittle was not just an expression of contempt; it was a weapon in a cosmic struggle, a physical affirmation that the holy soul of the Jew would not be contaminated by the tumah of idolatry.

To understand the persistence and emotional force of this custom, one must also consider the historical context in which it was nurtured. For centuries in Christian Europe, Jews lived as a persecuted minority. They were subjected to forced conversions, blood libels, pogroms, and inflammatory sermons that often took place in the very churches from which the cross was displayed. The cross itself was not an abstract theological symbol; it was the banner under which Crusaders massacred Jewish communities in the Rhineland, the symbol borne by inquisitors, and the emblem of regimes that enforced ghettos and discriminatory laws. The Church, as an institution, was often the source of theological and physical oppression. In this context, the Halakhic requirement to spit became intertwined with a deep-seated, historically-conditioned trauma. It was a small, defiant act of resistance—a way for a powerless individual to assert their theological truth in the face of a dominant and often hostile culture. It was a private, almost secretive reclaiming of agency.

In the modern era, and particularly in the context of the State of Israel, this ancient custom has collided with contemporary norms of religious pluralism, state law, and diplomatic relations. The vast majority of mainstream Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform rabbis and communities do not publicly advocate for or practice this custom today. Many prominent Halakhic authorities have explicitly condemned it. They argue that the definition of Christianity as avodah zarah for Jews does not extend to granting license for public disrespect that desecrates God’s name (Chillul Hashem) by making Judaism appear hateful and provoking intercommunal strife.

Furthermore, significant theological shifts have occurred. The 1965 Catholic document Nostra Aetate, which repudiated the charge of deicide and affirmed the spiritual bond between Christianity and Judaism, marked a watershed moment. In response, many Jewish leaders and thinkers, including Orthodox figures like Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, have emphasized the importance of mutual respect and civil dialogue, even while maintaining theological differences. They distinguish between the theoretical Halakhic status of Christian doctrine and the practical, ethical imperative of darkhei shalom—the "ways of peace"—which mandate respectful coexistence with non-Jewish neighbors.

It is precisely in this modern, nuanced landscape that the stance of an Itamar Ben-Gvir becomes potent. He and his ideological allies represent a school of thought that rejects this modernization and accommodation. They adhere to a stringent, pre-modern interpretation of Halakha, one that prioritizes the pure, unadulterated repudiation of idolatry over concerns for diplomacy or public image. For them, the spitting is not a crime of hate, but a fulfillment of a divine commandment. It is a performative act of Jewish sovereignty, a declaration that in the Jewish state, the symbols of a faith historically associated with persecution will not be accorded unchecked reverence. When Gvir asks, "why would we turn spitting on Christians into a crime?" he is framing the issue as a clash between religious obligation and secular law, between the demands of a higher authority and the imposed norms of a liberal world order.

In conclusion, the "ancient Jewish custom" cited by Itamar Ben-Gvir, while reprehensible in its modern execution, is not without a theological pedigree. It is the bitter fruit of a deeply rooted tree whose trunk is the absolute rejection of idolatry, whose branches are the Halakhic codifications of Maimonides and others, and whose leaves are the Kabbalistic conceptions of spiritual impurity. It emerges from a worldview where theology is not abstract but performative, where every action is a statement of belief, and where the sight of a rival symbol demands a physical, ritualized response of rejection. The great conflict it presents today is not merely between Jews and Christians, but within Judaism itself: a struggle between a stringent, particularist interpretation of divine law that demands active repudiation of error, and a more universalist, ethical interpretation that seeks peaceful coexistence amidst irreconcilable theological difference. The spittle, therefore, is more than just saliva; it is a liquid testament to a centuries-old theology, now landing on the pavement of a modern, contested Jerusalem, and now supported by the Israeli state.

In the face of what has happed in Gaza, Judaism has much to work out for itself.