Toward education for cosmopolitanism in a nation state: The case of Israel

Introduction

We live in complex times, in which capital, information, goods, and people move at an accelerated rate in the global space, creating a reality that holds great potential for some, but also possess a great risk for others (Beck, 1992). A global network of connections that is being woven before our eyes challenges the way we used to think about concepts such as identity, belonging, responsibility, place, commitment, and citizenship (Beck, 2007).

This political, social, economic, and moral reality poses unprecedented challenges before systems of education globally (Roth & Gur Ze’ev, 2007), as they aim at preparing children to an unknown future. This article will seek to examine from a philosophical point of view one educational response to these chllanges: education toward cosmopolitanism (Nussbaum and Cohen, 1996).

Cosmopolitanism, derived from the Greek word cosmopolitanism (citizen of the world), is an ethical and socio-political theory, which considers all human beings to be “indebted to the universal community of human beings” (Nussbaum, 1996: 4), whether as a metaphor or as a call for actual political action.

Education toward cosmopolitanism (e.g., Hansen, 2011; Nussbaum, 1996; Todd, 2009), which will be the focus of this article, is an adaptation of this view to an educational response, which seeks to address the challenges posed by globalization.

In contemporary reality, in which the world is still divided into territorial sovereign units, such an educational response can be realized only within the framework of the nation-state. This situation raises a conceptual tension, because by its very definition, citizenship education in the nation state depends on and is related to the unique interests and challenges of a bounded and particular sovereign community, sometimes even serving as an instrument for social exclusion.

In this article, I will address this tension and examine whether cosmopolitan values, such as moral commitment to all human beings, cultural openness, and pluralism, can be educationally cultivated within the framework of the nation state, not only as mere leap service? To connect the theoretical discussion to practice, I will examine the case of the democratic Jewish nation-state, the State of Israel.

The article will be divided into four chapters. First, I will briefly address the challenges facing the nation state today from cultural, economic, and political points of view. After reviewing the challenges, I will turn to critically discuss two fundamental articles, written by two prominent thinkers engaged in education for cosmopolitanism from an ethical lens, Martha Nussbaum and Anthony Appiah. My discussions will exemplify the tension between the cosmopolitan and the national approaches. In the third part of the article, I will suggest Will Kymlicka and Katherine Walker’s “rooted cosmopolitanism,” as a sort of a golden path that allows for the promotion of cosmopolitan values within the nation state.

Finally, I will examine Kymlicka and Walker’s suggestion referring to the specific case of the Jewish democratic nation-state. In this part, I would like to argue that basing Israeli citizenship on the connection to Jewish culture, which, despite being particular, is built on the recognition of common humanity and cultural respect, can imbue the national project in Israel with a much needed cosmopolitan potential. In this and the following sections, I will also briefly examine the objectives of the National Education Act in Israel and try to suggest several critical directions for a future public discussion on the subject.

The cosmopolitan condition

We live in an age where cultural diversity is a fact (Parekh, 2000). If in the past people had to travel to distant regions of the world to meet “others,” then today the “others” are in our backyard, and they are here to stay. Two hundred and seventy-two million immigrants live in the world today (IOM, 2019) and over six hundred and forty million would have migrated from their places, had it been possible for them (Gallup, 2012). These numbers exclude the hundreds of millions belonging to ethnic or second-generation minorities as well as the tens of millions of refugees and displaced persons, alongside millions of illegal immigrants (OECD-ILO-IOM & UNHCR, 2019). This reality shouldn’t be treated lightheadedly, since it undermines the longlisting perceived “clarity” around concepts such as “citizenship” (Benhabib, 2013).

Several decades ago, “citizenship” characterized a clear and defined political community, which shares a common history, culture, nationality, and vision. Conversely, today, concepts such as cultural hybridity, diversity, multiculturalism, minority rights, identity politics, human rights, and more, change the discourse and challenge the “national-based” terminology altogether (Beck 2012). This realty raises complex issues, ranging from equal rights for minorities without undermining their unique identity and culture, to debating asylum seekers to post-national forms of citizenship that connect people beyond a specific nation-state, creating a commitment to new forms of civic and cultural organization (Delanty, 2009).

No less prominent is the xenophobic and polemic counter-discourse about those same “others,” as a threat to cultural hegemony, social cohesion, and economic security, which provokes various internal conflicts (Delanty, 2019). ¹ A notable example of this is the results of the US, European, and European Parliament election campaigns in the past decade, in which far-right representatives and parties enjoyed unprecedented success, as they rode a populist wave of blaming immigrants for all of Europe’s or America’s troubles.

However, the encounter with otherness is not the only challenge that the citizens of the world face today.

Economies, countries, corporations, and citizens are connected by ever strengthening networks, most clearly expressed in the technological, economic, cultural, and political arenas.

In the technological arena, concepts such as time, place, space, as well as community and group affiliation lose their original meaning and acquire hybrid and “fluid” dimensions (Bauman, 1998). According to the ITU, the United Nations’ communications agency, close to 4.1 billion people worldwide are currently online and 93% of the world’s population has access to mobile-broadband networks, although only 53% can actually use it (ITU, 2019). According to Facebook's third quarter results report, 3.58 billion people were using at least one of the company’s core products (Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, or Messenger) each month (Facebook, 2021).

With a quick swipe of the finger, the average person can contact her friend at the other end of the world or gain information about, more or less, any phenomenon. Needless to say, this reality affects our consciousness and reshapes our understanding of concepts such as “place,” “belonging,” and “identity.” The cultural amalgam that is made possible by global communication gives rise to a reality in which national identity is challenged by a more cosmopolitan one. In the words of Jeremy Waldron (Waldron, 1992: 754):

“The cosmopolitan may live all his life in one city and maintain the same citizenship throughout. But he refuses to think of himself as defined by his location or his ancestry or his citizenship or his language. Though he may live in San Francisco and be of Irish ancestry, he does not take his identity to be compromised when he learns Spanish, eats Chinese, wears clothes made in Korea, listens to arias by Verdi sung by a Maori princess on Japanese equipment, follows Ukrainian politics, and practices Buddhist meditation techniques. He is a creature of modernity, conscious of living in a mixed-up world and having a mixed-up self.”

Another field in which the status of the nation-state is being undermined is the economic arena. Capital, goods, people, and services are moving in the global space at record speed, creating an economic market that skips over the nation state. Corporations enter a country and create new jobs or alternatively leave a region and cause unemployment (Bauman, 1998). If in the past the nation-state could have operated economically on its own, in today’s hyperconnected world this is almost impossible. Current global economic ties have resulted in a “butterfly effect,” where changes in one part of the world are transforming the reality in other part, located many miles away (Kose et al. 2010).

Prominent examples of this are the sub-prime crisis that hit the United States in 2008 and led to an economic chain reaction that influenced many countries around the world, and the economic crisis in the eurozone, which made strong economies fearful of the union’s weak economies. Another example is the economic sanctions imposed on Iran, on the one hand, and on Russia, on the other, following their activities in the international arena, and the ways in which these affected oil and gas prices.

The political reality has also become global. Today, there are almost no “local conflicts.” Every regional conflict becomes a matter for superpowers. Moreover, citizens of certain countries are sometimes damaged by irresponsible actions of foreign countries. This reality gained public prominence towards the end of the 1980s in light of the explosion at the Chernobyl nuclear reactor (Archibugi, 2000).

This relatively new interconnected reality has led sociologists to argue that it is necessary to establish supranational institutions that can monitor injustices and protect world citizens from globalization by granting “cosmopolitan rights” (Held and Guibernau, 2001). According to Archibugi (2000), although we are witnessing an unprecedented rise of the democratic regime globally, at the international level, a democratic void can be identified. Namely, the decisions made by countries on the international realm are sometimes non-democratic. Prominent examples include NATO’s militant intervention in Kosovo and the interventions of the United States and its allies, on the one hand, and Russia and its allies, on the other, in the Middle East.

As suggested by the German sociologist Ulrich Beck, we live in a “risk society,” where humanity itself is creating new risks in the form of ecological crisis, terrorism, blatant economic inequality, rising unemployment, substantial human rights violations and more (Beck, 2002). In order to deal with these risks wisely, Beck argues, we must adopt a new perspective, a “cosmopolitan” one (Beck, 2012).

In Beck’s view, the age of nationalism has not yet ended, but humanity has already entered the transition phase, which is characterized by a world connected beyond the national framework, but at the same time the influence of the national aspect on this connection can still not be avoided. This new state requires the adoption of a new paradigm capable of creatively bridging the complex state of “both/and.” In the words of Beck and Levi (2012: 19), “the cosmopolitan turn in the social sciences requires a new kind of middle range ‘descriptive’ social theory that opens up the empirical dimensions of the cosmopolitization of nationhood” (Beck 2012: 28).

In the following pages, I will examine this new situation from an educational stance. This examination is important since education has always been a tool for socialization, an instrument for preparing the younger generation for life. On the face of it, in light of the aforementioned challenges, nowadays there is a significant need to rethink the nature of state-based education. The challenges facing humanity today require educators to creatively approach the tensions underlying the concept of “cosmopolitanism.” How does state-based education, which promotes loyalty to a defined political community, reconcile with cosmopolitan education, which promotes loyalty to a global community beyond borders and ethnic, cultural, gender, or national affiliation?

In what follows, I will seek to bridge this tension logically, without dismissing one of the parties in the discussion. To this end, I will first present the concept of cosmopolitan education, as implied by prominent supporters of cosmopolitanism, Martha Nussbaum and Anthony Appiah. I will then challenge their proposals from a practical and locally oriented educational outlook. My discussion will lead me to a relatively new conceptualization in the cosmopolitan literature, which seeks a reconciliation between the local national-cultural view and the cosmopolitan view, titled “cosmopolitanism with roots.” Finally, I will examine my suggestion through the leans of Jewish religion and culture and the concrete example of the Israeli National Education Act.

Education toward cosmopolitanism—Martha Nussbaum

In her seminal article “Patriotism and Cosmopolitanism,” first published in the Boston Review and then 2years later in For Love of Country, which included responses to the article by prominent intellectuals, Nussbaum seeked to offer an alternative to the growing national discourse in the United States, titled “education toward cosmopolitanism” (Nussbaum, 1996).

Nussbaum’s article was written amid a debate with Richard Rorty, who called on the American left not to despise patriotism as a value, to not discard the feeling of national pride and to promote a sense of shared identity. According to Nussbaum, Rorty suggests cultivating the bonds of commitment that connect the American public, without ignoring ethnic, racial, religious, and other hopes (Ibid.). However, Nussbaum wonders, why settle for transcending these differences, only within national boundaries? What is the point of cultivating an attitude of proximity to the Chinese community within the United States, for example, and at the same time feeling alienated from China? How can imaginary boundaries change our attitude toward others to such an extent? And why shouldn’t we discuss more about what we as intelligent and interdependent human beings have in common? (Nussbaum, 1996: 12–13).

For Nussbaum, the fact that a person is born in a particular country does not justify giving preferential treatment to the history and culture of that country. In a moral test, Nussbaum argues, people are first and foremost citizens of the world and only then citizens of their country. And therefore, it is not justified that the children of the United States, for example, will learn mostly about American history and not pay equal attention to world history. At the same account, Nussbaum argues, it would not be justified to discuss only local social and economic challenges. We ought to pay close attention to the challenges shared by all citizens of the world, as well as to the specific problems of distant countries. Nussbaum asks (1996: 6):

“Should they (E.V: students in the US) learn only that citizens of India have equal basic human rights, or should they also learn about the problems of hunger and pollution in India, and the implications of these problems for the larger issues of global hunger and global ecology? Most important, should they be taught that they are, above all, citizens of the United States, or should they instead be taught that they are, above all, citizens of a world of human beings, and that, while they happen to be situated in the United States, they have to share this world with the citizens of other countries?”

Nussbaum’s claim draws from the historical origins of the idea of cosmopolitanism that stretches back to ancient Greece and the Roman Empire. In answer to the question “Where did you come from?” Diogenes the Cynic replayed his much-quoted answer “I am a citizen of the world.” This answer, claims Nussbaum, is the starting point of the cosmopolitan way of thinking. Years later, the Stoics developed Diogenes’s answer and argued that each of us actually resides in two communities—in his original community and in a community whose “boundaries are measured by the sun,” in the words of Roman philosopher Seneca. The Stoics, Nussbaum clarifies, did not propose to abolish local political forms of organization (Nussbaum, 1996: 7). They rather asked to remind us that (Ibid: 9) “we should also work to make all human beings’ part of our community of dialogue and concern, base our political deliberations on that interlocking commonality, and give the circle that defines our humanity special attention and respect.”

Following the Stoics, Nussbaum states that we must see ourselves not as people devoid of their local affiliations but as surrounded by concentric circles (Ibid):

“The first one encircles the self, the next takes in the immediate family, then follows the extended family, then, in order, neighbors or local groups, fellow city-dwellers, and fellow countrymen-and we can easily add to this list groupings based on ethnic, linguistic, historical, professional, gender, or sexual identities. Outside all these circles is the largest one, humanity as a whole. Our task as citizens of the world will be to ‘draw the circles somehow toward the center’ (Stoic philosopher Hierocles, 1^st-2^nd CE), making all human beings more like our fellow city-dwellers, and so on.”

In her remarks, Nussbaum proposes four arguments in support of making “world citizenship” the focal point of education, over existing civic education (Nussbaum, 1996: 11–15):

(A) Cosmopolitan education can teach us more about ourselves, since it allows us to look at ourselves through the eyes of the other. It also helps us understand what in our customs and culture is really worthy and common to all cultures, and what is surrounded by a “false aura” of morality and splendor but is actually just one option out of many.

Nussbaum does raise a strong argument for education toward cosmopolitanism. However, her claim is slightly ambivalent. On the one hand, she argues for the primacy of global citizenship over particular citizenship. However, at least in two places in her article she emphasizes that this does not mean that a national education system should not, first and foremost (E.V: my indentation), teach local history and society. Moreover, towards the end of the article, Nussbaum seeks to mediate between the two approaches and argues that education to “world citizenship” does not imply detachment from roots and identity but placing greater emphasis on being part of a much broader community and recognizing humanity wherever it meets.

Alas, this attempt, which aims to reconcile Nussbaum’s universal stance with the dominant patriotic discourse in the US, is unsatisfactory, since the only justifiable reason for preferring national over cosmopolitan education, according to Nussbaum, is not moral but functional. According to Nussbaum’s moral conception, we have no right to prefer our history, our close kin or our fellow citizens at the expense of other human beings. Such an argument is hard to defend, since it ignores people innate need for belonging, as well as the fact that their basic socialization happens in a given community. At the end of the day, as Barber (1996) claims, people live in a concrete place, in a concrete society, they are members of a concrete family, and they have concrete houses. Ignoring the communitarian aspect of our life might undermine the very foundation of our moral activity, since it often draws from sources deeply rooted in our unique culture and our close interactions with our cultural counterparts.

The values that Nussbaum perpetuates are indeed worthy of appreciation, especially in the face of contemporary global challenges; however, these values should have a solid foundation to relay on, otherwise the moral structure that Nussbaum is trying to construct will collapse. If people won’t learn the moral nucleolus which allows for life next to the other in their own culture, how could they recognize the existence of such a moral nucleus in other cultures?

It is for a good reason that Nussbaum notes that “becoming a citizen of the world is often a lonely business.” It is, as Diogenes said, “a kind of exile – from the comfort of local truths, from the warm, nestling feeling of patriotism, from the absorbing drama of pride in oneself and one’s own… It [Cosmopolitanism] offers only reason and the love of humanity, which may seem at times less colorful than other sources of belonging” (Nussbaum, 1996: 15).

Although her words evoke a romantic note, reality seems to be more “grounded” than Nussbaum’s hopes. As communitarians, including Walzer (1994), have taught us, it is difficult to expect from people to show loyalty to an abstract community with which they share “thin” ties, based on lofty and distant moral values that draw from a very particular Western tradition (Burbules, 1999).

Moreover, morality and sense of shared humanity are context-dependent. More often than not, it is people’s environment, culture, and language that imbue their life with meaning. Thus, we cannot downplay the importance of values deduced from specific roots, culture, destiny, and history. The pursuit toward cosmopolitanism does not have to stem from ideals that are guided “from above,” but rather from people’s specific culture and concrete history.

Moreover, as Papastephanou showed, a cosmopolitan educational view that seeks to promote peace and cultural recognition cannot aim only at the future, at the normative description of the society it aspires to establish. To enable intercultural encounters, it must pay the historical debt to the past, to the non-exempt conflicts that every marginalized community carries in its lap (Papastephanou 2002).

It is worth noting that over the years Nussbaum retreated from her universal position and began to defend a view closer to the particular axis, titled “Globally sensitive patriotism” (Nussbaum, 2008). The arrows of criticism directed at Nussbaum seem to have led to the recognition that education toward universal values alone drains life from their local and authentic meanings. Therefore, there is room for cultivating a patriotic feeling towards the personal history of the community to which people belong, as long as it remains open to the new and different. Thus, according to the later Nussbaum, we can promote values, critique, and concern for publics with whom we do not share a historical and cultural connection (Nussbaum, 2008; Nussbaum, 2011; and critique: Papastephanou, 2013).

However, most scholars ignore the change that has taken place in Nussbaum’s thought and refer to her earlier writings, due to their greater outreach and influence—and thus, so did I.

Education toward global citizenship—Kwame Anthony Appiah

Kwame Anthony Appiah has devoted much research to the discourse on cultural and philosophical cosmopolitanism, especially in its particular contexts (Appiah, 2010). Contrary to Nussbaum’s calling to transcend the local context, Appiah envisions global citizens, associated with their particular homes, cultures, and traditions, but also enjoying the presence of others from different cultures. However, Appiah does not relinquish cosmopolitanism’s basic argument that no local loyalty justifies ignoring people’s mutual responsibilities to one another, beyond national borders (Appiah, 2008).

Cosmopolitanism, claims Appiah, cherishes cultural diversity because of what it allows people to do. Cultural diversity is not important to Appiah because culture is important, but because people are important, and culture is important to people. On the other hand, if a culture harms people, a cosmopolitan shouldn’t be tolerant of it. Thus, for Appiah, the greatest challenge today is to shape the minds and hearts of young people to live together as a global tribe, and therefore the curriculum must be adapted to the global age (Appiah, 2008: 88).

Nevertheless, and here lies the significant contrast between him and Nussbaum, in various circumstances, Appiah believes that cosmopolitans can determine that their commitments to their close kin and community come first. According to Appiah, our commitment to humanity can be proudly expressed in local customs, without compromising the value of other’s customs and culture. Moreover, it is precisely our love toward the particular, that can help us appreciate the local connections that others share in relation toward other people and places (Appiah, 2005).

Two intertwined threads make up the concept of cosmopolitanism, as Appiah understands it: a. The commitment to the distant other; B. Interest in human beings as individuals who have unique customs and beliefs, which give their lives meaning. Accordingly, cosmopolitanism is “universality plus difference” (Appiah, 2008: 92).

Appiah is not a philosopher of education and thus does not write about education. However, the only article in which he deviates from his custom, entitled “Education for the Global Citizenship” (Appiah, 2008), is certainly worthy of reference.

At the center of his proposed educational view, Appiah is placing the importance of cultivating dialogue over difference. Appiah urges his readers to take a critical stance towards themselves and not just towards others, for just like others, we may also be wrong, even if we examined the facts and exercised the best set of arguments we could. Nevertheless, even if people are inherently prone to make mistakes, they can still be learned from (Appiah 2008: 93). Every person, claims Appiah, is responsible for his life and entitled to self-management. It is therefore important to allow people to live by the standards they believe in, even if we disagree with them, and even if our attempts to persuade them wrong have been in vain. If, on the other hand, one’s actions harm others, we must help the victims, since cosmopolitanism requires that the lives of all human beings should be equally important to us.

Appiah believes that education today requires us to rethink life in a global community, but also in smaller, more local communities. In contrast to the stoic model of concentric circles, Appiah suggests that we look at society as a variety of tangent circles that affect our lives in different ways. Although people are educated within various circles, ranging from local to global circles, realistically speaking, the nation-state is still the most influential institution in our children’s education. However, there is no reason why in the context of education in a given country, we won’t prepare our children for life in the world as well, since the world is one of the communities we share today (Appiah, 2008: 93). To do so, suggests Appiah, the national education system should mix between members of different cultures and dismantle the particular education frameworks, since there is nothing healthier to the cultivation of a cosmopolitan outlook than growing up among people who are different from you, while maintaining equality and pursuing a common goal.

Encouraging interaction between different people in the international arena requires transnational projects, also on the virtual scale. But still, states Appiah, there is no stronger experience than the practice of living alongside others. Thus, he praises experiences such as spending an entire semester abroad (Appiah, 2008: 92). Appiah also recommends having a “global discourse” in the metaphorical sense—learning about other ways of life, through anthropology, history, literature, films, and stories in the press, radio, and television (Appiah, 2008: 94).

Another important aspect that Appiah seeks to address is the defense of the definition of cosmopolitanism as “universality plus difference,” from those who oppose universality and those who oppose difference.

First, Appiah argues that cosmopolitanism can evoke no less stronger feelings of commitment as nationalism. According to Appiah, “to say that every human matters is not to deny that some people matter more to each of us than others” (Appiah, 2008: 95), such as our nation, our community, and our family. Insisting on universality means making our fair share that “everyone has the chance at the dignified human existence that we are all entitled to” (Ibid). This is not to say that the cosmopolitan will not do more for his country. All it means is that the cosmopolitan will not compromise for less for the rest of the world.

The people that Appiah fears the most are those who deny difference. Those people, he believes, are not afraid of the “single humanity” rhetoric but rather desire it. Their deepest will is to force everyone to speak one “correct” religious and cultural language (Ibid). Cosmopolitans also believe in one universal truth, Appiah argues, but unlike religious fundamentalists, they are not sure that they possess the same truth. The only objective truth that the cosmopolitan holds is that every person has obligations to every other person. Acknowledging this significantly reduces their patience towards people who think differently (Ibid: 96).

However, it is important to note that according to Appiah (2008: 98) “cosmopolitanism is a temperament that is to be found on every continent.” Thus, it would be unjust to categorize religions as categorically “fundamentalist” and “anti-cosmopolitan,” since it is certainly possible to find religious leaders today and throughout history who recognize difference and do not seek to destroy it.

All in all, the cosmopolitan is committed to pluralism. Cosmopolitans believe that there are many values that deserve to be lived accordingly, but it is not possible to live in the light of all these values together. Hence, cosmopolitans hope that different societies will adopt different values. And yet, they will recognize that their knowledge is limited and that their perceptions are subjected to change. Cosmopolitans will rejoice at the golden law to not do unto others what you don’t want them to do unto you. But at the same time, they will also care if those others don’t want to be done unto, as I would be done (Ibid: 97).

In Appiah’s view, cosmopolitanism is therefore an invitation to partake in a reflective dialogue, embrace cultural pluralism, and recognize that you may be wrong and therefore you should not impose your views on others. Implementing these principles is a real educational challenge. It requires great mental flexibility and a deep commitment to morality. The desire to learn about other cultures—a proposal also shared by Nussbaum—and the recognition of the presence of the cosmopolitan idea in adaptations that are not always easy to agree with, is also, according to Appiah, a basic condition for the dialogue we are committed to engage in today.

However, Appiah’s concrete proposals raise more questions than answers. Appiah proposes to present a cosmopolitan oriented curriculum, but he does not live up to his promise. What changes does he want to propose to the National Curriculum? What weight should be given to nurturing local values and commitments in relation to values and commitments to the global community? What should educators do when they face a conflict between values, both in the local arena and in the global arena? And what is the special emphasis that should be given in the framework of the national education system to ethnic minorities?

Moreover, in light of his proposal to define cosmopolitanism as “universality plus difference” and his arguments regarding the freedom of each individual to choose how to conduct their life, we might ask: how does this align with his recommendation to establish a culturally “neutral” national public education? How will he persuade Mormons, Muslims, Jews, Christians, Hindus, and other minorities in the United States, for example, to give up on the acculturation to their customs and culture, in exchange for a uniform public education? While mixed education can contribute greatly to intercultural discourse, it is important to recognize that it is only one (and not the only) educational alternative. Moreover, naturally, educational systems in multicultural countries tend to force the values of the national majority on the minorities (Kymlicka, 2003). How, then, will Appiah protect the various cultures and opinions in the public space from indoctrination? These and other questions remain open, despite the acuteness of challenging them.

It seems to me that to allow space for cosmopolitanism in a reality where the nation state is still the only sovereign unit responsible for the socialization and acculturation of the “citizens of the world,” we are to develop more detailed models that incorporate cosmopolitan values, without ignoring the local context.

A possible direction for such a discussion can be found in a form of national cosmopolitanism, which does not ignore its local roots. In what follows, I will briefly review this discourse, developed by Will Kymlicka and Kathryn Walker. Following a short discussion of Kymlicka and Walker’s suggestion, I will make some remarks regarding its possible applicability to the Israeli arena.

Cosmopolitanism with roots

Appiah was among the first to use the terms “cosmopolitan patriotism” (1997) and “rooted cosmopolitanism” (2005). Over the years many synonyms have emerged, acknowledging the moral commitment to all human beings, based on a given cultural/religious/national origin for this commitment (Kymlicka and Walker, 2012). In recent years, concepts such as “cultural diversity” and local/national self-governing were preferred over comprehensive and linguistically insensitive concepts previously identified with cosmopolitanism, such as “global governance” or “shared global culture.”

However, rooted cosmopolitanism seeks to make a change in the traditional concept of nationalism as well. For many rooted cosmopolitans, the nation-state can no longer be a focal point of unconditional sovereignty, exclusive loyalty, and blind patriotism. The connection of people to their ethnic culture and to the nation-state, would argue rooted cosmopolitans, deserves to be expanded to include much wider publics, by recognizing a country’s moral commitment to human rights, global justice, and international law. In other words, rooted cosmopolitanism seeks to redefine our understanding of cosmopolitanism and nationalism (Kymlicka and Walker 2012: 3).

In their book, Kymlicka and Walker present different versions of rooted cosmopolitanism, from “soft” versions that claim that local affiliation does not necessarily contradict the concern for global interests, to “hard” versions that claim that both epistemologically and psychologically people should be immersed in their concrete community, since only such grounding can provide with the moral value and responsibility towards the other. Without deeply rooted connections, argue the representatives of the “hard” approach among rooted cosmopolitans, the world would become an abstract collection of people with universal human rights, but it would lack the civic virtue and practices necessary to understand why the lives of others really matter. According to this view, it is precisely local attachments that allow people to develop cosmopolitan commitments. To illustrate their claim, Kymlicka and Walker argue that world citizenship is an integral part of being a Canadian citizen, for example. Being a Canadian encourages you to be a cosmopolitan, believe Kymlicka and Walker (2012: 4–5).

This of course does not mean that increasing nationalism will necessarily increase cosmopolitan tendencies. However, national ideas that connect people deeply to a particular community and territory can also make them feel committed to distant people. For example, the sense of “Canadienne’s” has enabled Canadians to justify the participation of “Canadian peacekeepers” in the war in Afghanistan and the sense of being “Swedish,” which is derived from the sense of volunteerism acquired by the citizens of the Scandinavian country, has manifested, for example, in projects that funded refugees from Africa (p. 6).

Moreover, unlike political cosmopolitans (e.g., Archibugi, 2008; Held, 2010), Kymlicka and Walker (2012: 8) argue that a courageous outlook at the global realpolitik will attest to the failure of political cosmopolitan projects, such as the UN and the EU. For example, representatives of institutions such as the EU are not elected by the public, and it is not surprising that the public they are supposed to represent does not feel like a global community and we are witnessing a “democratic deficit” at the global scale. In contrast, there are quite a few examples of countries that have managed to take care of both the well-being of their inhabitants and the well-being of the world (Kymlicka and Walker 2012: 7). And thus, precisely by looking at the central role that the democratic nation-state still plays today, integrating cosmopolitan concepts such as a commitment to global justice and human rights within a nation-state’s agenda can make it one of the most viable projects for advancing cosmopolitan goals today.

In the next and final section of the article, I shall examine the possible implications of Kymlicka and Walker’s discussion to the Israeli reality. I will argue that a profound discussion of the essence of Israeli citizenship does not fall short from Kymlicka and Walker’s model for local citizenship that includes commitment to global citizenship. Moreover, the very fact that the unique national character of the State of Israel derives from Jewish culture and history can serve as a fertile ground for cultivating cosmopolitan values. I will begin my claim with the latter aspect.

Toward cosmopolitanism in Israel

The Jewish nationality and religion are particular, just like any other nationality and religion. But what is often forgotten, also in the national discourse in contemporary Israel, is that Jewish particularity finds its place only after and out of the recognition that first of all, even before Jews belong to a particular nationality and religion, we are all human beings. The Mishnah, the first major written collection of the Jewish oral tradition, asks in Tractate Sanhedrin, “Why was man created alone?” And it answers: “Let no man say to his friend, ‘our father is greater than your father’.” The Jewish theology proceeds from the premise that all mankind evolved from Adam, the first man, and therefore there is no reason to claim the inferiority of one person over another. And therefore, not out of a denial of our common humanity but rather on the basis of the respect for our common humanity—which is, of course, the highest moral cosmopolitan value—the Israeli nation should build its uniqueness and particularity.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, former Chief Rabbi of London, argued that it is precisely this kind of respect toward difference that makes it possible to justify the existence of contemporary Judaism (Sacks, 2004). In his book “The Dignity of Difference,” Sacks asks one of the most burning questions for Jews today: is there a way to justify the “chosenness” of the Jewish people? And he answers: in today’s pluralistic and multicultural world, there isn’t. Thus, how can Jews realize their uniqueness? Sacks’ answer is that God created the Jews differently so that they could testify to the difference of all other people. What, then, distinguishes the difference of the Jews from the difference of other cultures and peoples? In Sacks’ opinion, the answer lays in history.

Throughout human history, the Jewish people have stood out for their right to be different, their duty to be different, and their dignity to be different, he claims. The Jewish people have not assimilated into the majority culture or converted their religion. The Jews, Sacks argues, saw differences as a commandment (mitzva) and not just as a given reality or fact. Moreover, Jews have never tried to convert others by force. On the contrary, joining Judaism has always been a matter of personal choice. It follows, therefore, that precisely today, the virtue of Judaism can be identified as a tradition that does not exalt itself over others but rather represents the difference and the respect that must be acquired for it. Jews are commanded to be different in order to teach the world to respect difference, Sacks concludes. This is the universalization of particularity. So why be a Jew? To protect everyone’s right to be different.

It is in this sense that the Jewish state has the potential to become into something much greater than a purely national project. In its practices, in the education it cultivates, in the values it promotes—it should become the gatekeeper of moral cosmopolitanism.

In the practical sense, relying on Appiah and Kymlicka and Walker, Israel’s “Jewishness” doesn’t have to relinquish its cosmopolitan potential. In England, for example, where the church still has a significant role, every child must study Shakespeare and Milton, among others, and Parliament sessions open with a short prayer. Similarly, there is no bar from studying the Bible, as well as Jewish history, as part of the general curriculum in Israel, as long as Judaism is taught as a culture.

This is not unique to the Jewish case, since cultural education is a key element in the formation of the identity of citizens in liberal democracies, regardless of the religion or tradition to which these citizens belong. Moreover, according to Jewish culture, the way Sack’s understands it, it is the responsibility of Jews to respect people from other cultures, as equal, as well as to take an active stand for the rights of minorities to have their freedom of worship, religion, and even an education system that instills their unique religious and cultural values.

But contemporary Israel is not only a Jewish state, it is also a democratic state. Although this might sound as a conceptual oxymoron, there are various theoretical justifications to the viability of these two concepts to coexist (Gavin, 1999). Alas, it is not only a theoretical challenge. The tension between Jewishness and democracy, Jews and non-Jews (mainly Palestinians), as well as inner tensions among Jews who possess national-cultural and religious conceptions, is nothing to be negligent about.

Fundamentally speaking, these tensions cannot be left untouched. The ability to morally justify a Jewish democratic state lays in its readiness to positively tackle the injustice that currently exists between religious and secular Jews, between new immigrants and natives, between Jews and Arabs, between Arabs and Arabs, and between Israelis and Palestinians (Gibton, 2011). This will not be an easy task. It depends on the ability of leaders and citizens to create the conditions for civic deliberation about the complicated nature of such a state. One the one hand, relinquishing the Jewish nature of the state and allowing for the right of return for the Palestinian diaspora might be the beginning of the end of “the home of the Jews,” once they will become a minority. Moreover, such a suggestion it is counter democratic, as the majority if Israel’s population today is Jewish. On the other hand, “using” the national majority to impose unjust regulations and practices, as exemplified during the recent legislative campaign that tried to change the balance between the Israeli Knesset and the Israeli supreme court, challanged Isearl's democracy as a whole and its aspiration to remain a modern liberal state.

Any attempt to solve this tension lightheadedly will do injustice to the challenge in stake. Many have written about it in different directions (to name a couple of competing suggestions: Ram, 2013; Yakobson and Rubinshtain, 2008). What I will try to do hereof is to link the theory to some practice, by examining the National Education Act 1953 (and its amendments). Although researchers have claimed that it to be a “scarce, outdated educational law in a centralized system” (Gibton, 2011; see also: Gibton and Goldring, 2001; Yogev, 1997), it is still a very important document that sets the tone for the whole system. By reading it through the leans of rooted cosmopolitanism, I shall claim it has an innate potential for the cultivation of a rooted cosmopolitan system of education.

The National Education Act 1953

The National Education Act 1953, along with the Compulsory Learning Act 1949, are the two fundamental laws concerning the system of education, initiated by the young government under Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion. These laws were crafted to nationalize the various politically and religiously affiliated semi-private chains of schools that were created at the times of the British mandate (Gibton, 2011).

The National Education Act referred to two separate secular sub groups: Jews and Arabs, whose schools were owned by the state and their staff was employed by it. The Israeli system of education also recognized a Jewish modern orthodox system of education, whose schools were also owned by the state, as well as a small amount of independent ultra-orthodox Jewish schools that received limited government funding, if any.

The relevant part of the law for our discussion is the “objects” section, which defines the objectives of the Israeli state secular system of education. After its preliminary creation, this part was amended in 2000, 2003, and 2018. Article 2 (1) opens with a statement that the objective of the Israeli education system is to “educate a human-loving human being,” which is a strictly cosmopolitan dialect. This article's second part, as well as articles 2 (3) and 2 (4), which give a central place to the love of the land, the heritage, the family, the identity, the state, and Jewish history and tradition—do not yet conflict with the demands of Kymlicka and Walker. However, in order to avoid ethnocentrism, a caveat must be added: this love must not come at the expense of others, who do not share the same heritage, religion, and civic identity. It is also worth mentioning the freedom to love the history of the Land of Israel as it is perceived by its non-Jewish inhabitants. In a sense, Article 2 (11), which was added at 2000 and emphasizes the importance of recognizing the unique language, culture, history, heritage, and tradition of Israeli Arabs, meets this need.

Article 2 (2) seeks to instill the principles of the Declaration of Independence, written on the basis of the cosmopolitan vision of the prophets of Israel. The section includes the need for respect for human rights and democratic values, recognition of the culture and views of others, as well as the pursuit for peace with and tolerance toward other nations.

Articles 2 (5) and 2 (6) seek to promote exposure to all types of human creation as part of the child’s upbringing to become a “mature person in a free society.” Exposure to various forms of art that tell the story of other and different people can, at least according to Nussbaum (1997), develop in the child a “narrative imagination,” that is, the moral ability to place oneself in the shoes of others.

Article 2 (7), which deals with strengthening jurisprudence, criticism, and openness to the new, and Article 2 (8), which states the importance of equal opportunity to all citizens of the country, regardless of religion or culture, as well as the need to create an atmosphere that supports diversity, meet Appiah’s criteria for cosmopolitan education. Article 2 (8), which is based on the Jewish commandment to “educate the lad according to his own way,” is a good example of applying the value that steams from the Jewish tradition in a way that promotes cosmopolitanism.

Article 2 (9) seeks to promote social activism and the pursuit of social justice in the state of Israel. Relying on the words of Kymlicka and Walker, it could be extended to concern for justice both on the global scale. This might be solved by adding the words “and the world” to the final section of the Article, thus reforming it to: “… and striving for social justice in the State of Israel and in the world.” This way, most of the law will still focus on the State of Israel, but some of it will also relate to the global dimension. Moreover, this law can also relate to the obligation of the citizens of the State of Israel specifically towards others, in Israel and around the world, precisely today, following Sacks’ arguments.

Article 2 (10) emphasizes the cultivation of the affinity of the citizens of the state towards the natural environment in the country, towards its landscapes, the flora, and fauna in it. On the one hand, this section meets the requirement of many cosmopolitan thinkers who call for caring for nature as well, but it is fraught with difficulty as it calls for attachment to a concrete territory and rises the importance of that same territory over any other region in the world. One might argue that this section can be justified based on Sacks’ argument that there is no contradiction between education for a specific culture and history, including a connection to a specific region, as long as this education does not harm other cultures. This section calls for extensive deliberation due to the historical territorial dispute between Israelis and Palestinians. Moreover, in light of the sanctity of the land of Israel to all religions, it is appropriate to add an amendment to the law that will include a certain emphasis on this sanctity to all citizens, cultures, and traditions.

Article 2 (13), which was added in 2000, regards education for meaningful service in the IDF or national-civilian service. This article raises many challanges, which depend on the nature of this service. Military Service is not contradictory to cosmopolitanism, the way Kymlicka and Walker, as well as Appiah, see it. The assistance provided by the IDF to disaster-stricken countries opens the door to a discussion on the issue, as well as the possibility of choosing a non-militant national service. Self-defense is also justified due to contemporary state of affairs in the region. IDF’s role in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict raises difficult questions and it demands an objective, and not agenda driven, national and international scrutiny. Although, this is a topic too complex to address in a side note at the end of this article.

Discussion

In this article, I tried to examine whether education toward cosmopolitan values is compatible with education in the nation state and can serve a worthy response to contemporary global educational challenges. To test this claim, I applied it to the Israeli case.

My brief examination of the National Education Act showed that given relatively minor amendments, one of the fundamental documents concerning the system of education in Israel can reflect the principles of rooted cosmopolitanism. Alas, the most significant challenge is not on the theoretical or even on the legislative level but rather regarding to the application of Article 2 of the law as part of Israel’s educational policy.

Thus, to further nuance my claim for rooted cosmopolitanism, in the following discussion I will engage critically with the risks and tensions involved in such a suggestion.

Firstly, a significant challenge in implementing rooted cosmopolitanism is the potential for its co-option by nationalist agendas. In Israel, where the national project is deeply intertwined with Jewish cultural and religious identity, the language of cosmopolitanism might be appropriated by those in power to reinforce existing power structures and justify exclusionary policies. As noted by Waghid et al. (2022), the tension between a nation-state’s identity and cosmopolitan ideals can result in a contradictory educational framework. In Israel, this tension is particularly acute, as policies that promote competing narratives may be seen by some as a threat to the Jewish nature of the state. Although the National Education Act specifically speaks about the rights of the non-Jewish citizens of the country, a key concern remains the potential conflict between the Jewish nature of the state and the development of autonomous Palestinian education in Israel. Moreover, in some cases, the promoters of Palestinian education might disagree with Israel’s definition as a Jewish state.

This presents a significant challenge since these are fundamental disagreements. On the one hand, the Israeli political landscape has historically been shaped by ideologies that prioritize a particular model of Jewish identity for the state, which has led to the marginalization of various communities (Guetzkow and Fast, 2016). At the same time, religious and ethnic minorities, particularly those identifying with the Palestinian minority in Israel, are also at risk of radicalization. Since, local religious and political leaders have the potential to inflame tensions and drive these communities toward violent, counter-cosmopolitan reactions (Vertigans, 2004).

These challenges call for a concept of education that transcends monologic, nationalistic, rivalrous, and linear models of education. To this end, Roth et al. (2022) argue that public education should not merely be seen as “state-funded” but also as “education of the public, for the public, and accountable to the public” (Ibid: 1216). Such education must create a space for mutual respect, dialogue, and reconciliation, playing a pivotal role in shaping a more just society for the people, allowing them to forge together the future of their common society (Vinokur, 2018).

In a highly segregated education system such as the Israeli one, where Jewish secular, Jewish religious, and Palestinian students attend separate schools, these challenges are further exacerbated. Jewish students are educated in schools with curricula that emphasize secular or religious aspects of Jewish history and culture, while Arab students in general, and Palestinian students in particular, learn in institutions that cater to their own ethnic, religious, and cultural needs, even if officially they should study the same curriculum. This segregation limits opportunities for intercultural dialogue and mutual understanding, which are crucial components of rooted cosmopolitanism. As Heugh (Biesta et al., 2022) highlights, successful educational reforms in divided societies, such as those in South Africa and Northern Ireland, demonstrate that intercultural dialogue can be achieved through intentional educational policies that foster inclusivity and respect for cultural diversity. For example, in South Africa, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) facilitated a national dialogue about the country’s apartheid past, creating opportunities for healing and reconciliation through public testimony and restorative justice. Similarly, in Northern Ireland, civic education reforms have been instrumental in encouraging young people to engage with diverse perspectives and challenge sectarian divides.

In Israel, implementing a cosmopolitan education system would require not only curriculum reforms but also a broader societal shift. The government would need to overcome the political resistance from right-wing parties and religious groups that view cosmopolitanism as a threat to the Jewish identity of the state. On the other hand, some of the political representatives of the Arab population in the Israeli Knesset will have to forge a positive and constructive educational agenda, instead a mostly militant approach. This political resistance from both ends of the political map is a common barrier in many countries with entrenched nationalist ideologies. As Biesta (2019) argues, the erosion of public education in neoliberal contexts is often a result of market-driven approaches that prioritize efficiency over inclusivity. In the case of Israel, a similar concern exists, where educational reforms might be co-opted to serve political or ideological interests, rather than fostering genuine intercultural dialogue.

One possible way to address these barriers is to create institutional mechanisms that ensure the protection of cosmopolitan education from nationalist and self-centered agendas. This could involve collaboration between civil society organizations, educators, and community leaders to design and implement inclusive curricula that reflect the diverse experiences of all Israeli citizens. The involvement of all social groups in Israeli society, including marginalized groups, in the curriculum development process would be crucial to ensuring that the education system promotes genuine equality and respect for cultural diversity.

Additionally, fostering a culture of civic engagement and dialogue is essential for the success of cosmopolitan education in Israel. This means not only teaching students about cosmopolitan values but also providing them with the tools and opportunities to engage in dialogue about national identity and belonging. When teaching about rooted cosmopolitanism, it is important do so in a non-monolithic manner. In this regard, the rich internal pluralism within Israeli society can become a source of strength, particularly regarding how rooted cosmopolitan ideals could be deepened through different local traditions, and thus made meaningful across all communities, including minorities.

In this regard, while this article has focused primarily on Western liberal conceptions of cosmopolitanism, the literature is imbued with alternative cosmopolitan frameworks, such as those presented by decolonial and indigenous scholars. Scholars such as Walter Mignolo, Catherine Walsh, and Ramón Grosfoguel (see: Mignolo, 2016, among others) critique the Eurocentric assumptions embedded in traditional cosmopolitanism and argue for more inclusive, non-Western models of global belonging. These frameworks challenge the universality of cosmopolitan ideals and emphasize the importance of cultural specificity.

On a more practical note, to ensure the sustainability of cosmopolitan education in Israel, it is essential to institutionalize rooted cosmopolitan practices within the education system. Drawing from the experiences of South Africa and Northern Ireland, Israel could implement programs that encourage students to engage with diverse perspectives through facilitated dialogues, field trips, and community service initiatives. As Heugh (Biesta et al., 2022) notes, these types of programs help to break down barriers and create a sense of shared responsibility among citizens, particularly in societies marked by deep divisions. Additional ideas could involve embedding cosmopolitan values into teacher training, providing ongoing professional development for educators, and creating assessment frameworks that prioritize intercultural competencies and civic engagement (Vinokur, 2024; Vinokur et al., 2023, 2024). By drawing on successful models from other divided societies, Israel can develop a comprehensive strategy for implementing cosmopolitan education that addresses both the structural barriers and the cultural challenges inherent in its context.

Simultaneously, to prepare the ground for such deep educational processes, it is necessary to initiate a broad educational public dialogue. The time has come to provoke a civic discussion in the Israeli society concerning questions such as who is an Israeli? Which positive values bind together all residents of this country? and how can Israeli citizens establish a society that will promote the general good and bestowal from its opportunities upon all the inhabitants of the land? This discussion needs to take place among the Jewish-religious, secular, and Arab (religious and secular) sectors, considering every sector’s unique set of values, sensitivities, and circumstances. Later, such discussions should take place between sectors, with the aim of reaching at least a modus vivendi.

To enable such an educational turn, the concept of cosmopolitanism should be translated into a language that will suit every specific culture. It is impossible to import a Western term into the local context and expect, for example, that it will be accepted by an oriental culture. However, even such a move should result from a broad public debate within every sector, ethnicity, and culture.

In summary, while the barriers to implementing rooted cosmopolitanism in Israel are significant, they are not insurmountable. By drawing on rooted cosmopolitan lessons from the traditions of its majority and minority groups, Israel can develop strategies for fostering dialogue about national identity and belonging that are inclusive, transformative, and sustainable. These strategies must be carefully designed to address the unique challenges posed by the Israeli context, while also drawing on the experiences of other divided societies to create a more inclusive and cosmopolitan educational system.

Albeit the challenge such an educational civic turn poses, it is necessary today, precisely in Israel. A rooted cosmopolitan educational turn not only has the potential to adapt the Israeli national project to the current challenges of the global world but also to become a powerful ideological response to the growing de-legitimization of the very right of the Jewish people for a Jewish democratic state.