A glance at the bibliographical appendix that surveys “studies of Haredi society in Israel over the last generation” raises further doubts regarding the accuracy of Caplan’s claim that there has been excessive scholarly focus on the rabbinical elite. The articles cited in the section on “personalities” deal with only four prominent and well-known Haredi leaders: The Hazon Ish and Rabbi Shach of the Lithuanian Haredim; the Satmar Rabbi, Yoel Teitelbaum; and Rabbi Ovadia Yosef. In the same manner, the list of studies treating “the religious way of life, ideology, theology, and worldview” of the Haredim is quite short. In general, most of the items noted in the appendix deal with anthropological and psychological aspects of Haredi society, such as Yoram Bilu’s essay on the structuring of manhood through Lag Ba’omer rituals, or Yehuda Goodman’s research into the struggle over identity in the context of psychotherapy.

Ironically, a further demonstration of the problem is provided by another of the author’s books, the anthology Israeli Haredim, published in 2003 and edited by Caplan and Emmanuel Sivan. Of the nine essays that appear in the anthology, only two-“Changes in the Sephardi World of Halacha: From Tradition to Literature” by Benjamin Lau, and “To Earn a Living or Wait for a Miracle: The Haredi Trap and Its Reflection in Relation to Tora and Work” by Nurit Stadler-­discuss the writings of the rabbinical elite in depth. The other seven articles deal with, among other things, the phenomenon of yotzim lishe’ela (religious Jews who lose their faith and become secular), types of leisure activity among Haredim, the struggle against archaeological digs at holy sites, and the “Haredi body.” None of these articles contain even a single reference to the vast religious literature that forms the basis of official Haredi identity; instead, as is customary these days in academia, they prefer to cite the likes of Michel Foucault or Walter Benjamin.

These words suggest that Caplan finds it difficult to explain the complex role of Haredi ideology in the context of his overall thesis. And, in truth, a more comprehensive examination of the “Haredi establishment religion” might well have turned some of Caplan’s claims upside down. The popular discussion of the Holocaust, for example, which Caplan sees as proof of the tension that ostensibly exists between the official viewpoint of the elite and popular thought, actually reflects past disagreements among the rabbinical leadership itself. Indeed, although the position of the Hazon Ish on the subject was ultimately accepted as the official line, it did not express an absolute consensus; esteemed halachic scholars and Hasidic leaders dealt with the issue of the Holocaust in philosophical works, and even composed elegies to the memory of the slaughtered. One of those scholars mentioned by Caplan is the Admor of Slonim, Rabbi Shalom Noah Berezovsky, who saw the Holocaust as a “unique event, exceptional and unprecedented in the history of Israel.” One should also add the Rebbe of Bobov, Rabbi Shlomo Halberstam, a Holocaust survivor who lost his wife and children, and Rabbi Shmuel Halevi Wosner, one of the great Haredi authorities of our generation, whose name is missing from Caplan’s book. The Lithuanian rabbis were also divided on the topic, and two of the most prominent among them-Rabbi Moshe Feinstein and Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetsky, leaders of the Orthodox camp in the United States-signed a leaflet calling on lamentations to be recited on the Ninth of Av in memory of the Holocaust.

This lack of clarity regarding Haredi ideology leaves the picture sketched by Caplan incomplete. In the book’s introduction, Caplan claims that his work describes Haredi society “from the bottom up”-that is to say, from the viewpoint of the popular discourse. In this, he sets himself in opposition to previous academic researchers, who have tended to focus on the community’s elitist discourse. However, his focus on this perspective does not relieve him of the need to show how the “bottom” actually changes the “top,” or, in other words, how the processes he describes are likely to influence the Haredi leadership. After all, even if there is something to Caplan’s arguments, and this leadership can no longer be seen as the sole authority in Haredi society, it is clear that it does continue to have a decisive influence. No change worthy of note will occur without the ideological and halachic approval of the community’s elite.

Overall, Caplan takes a palpably cautious stance: He raises questions and tries not to make risky predictions (perhaps in view of Menahem Friedman’s bitter experience). In a rumination that appears at the end of the book, he asks whether “the hard core of Haredi society is showing any sense of commitment to Israeli society and a willingness to share the national burden?” This is a question that must occupy the mind of every reader, but Caplan leaves us with no definite answer. He does not offer any long-term prognosis regarding the practical consequences of Israelization, and seems satisfied with the admission that “we do not know what the future holds.” This is, perhaps, deference to academic responsibility, but it is difficult to overcome the feeling that the scholar has been defeated by his subject.

These are real defects, but they do not negate the importance of Caplan’s book and its scholarly contributions. Internal Popular Discourse is an informative, instructive, and enlightening document, some of whose insights deserve further and more profound examination. Although Caplan is not fully successful at lifting the veil from “Haredi discourse,” and despite the fact that his arguments occasionally rest on problematic assumptions, he has unquestionably contributed to the clarification of the subject. Anyone seriously interested in the changes the Israeli Haredi community is currently undergoing should not pass over this book, and one hopes that others will follow in Caplan’s path and continue the work he has begun.