10.3 Kashrut and Halal as Food Ethics Systems

We might think of the animal welfare movement ― bolstered by the persuasive arguments of Peter Singer and others, reinforced by countless activists and citizens who care about the treatment of animals, and successful in bringing greater attention to the treatment of animals ― as “religious” in the functional sense that was commended in Chapter 3. This movement is akin to a religion in being a community of practice, dedicated to various principles, fighting for social change on the basis of those principles, and commending a vision for how to live in relation to other life. We can consider similarities and differences between these movement views and what kosher and halal food systems have been saying for more than a millennia as the food ethics systems of Judaism and Islam, respectively. While Singer’s arguments provided a rationale for seeing animal suffering as more morally important than modern American culture had generally promoted, similar conclusions have long been part of the ancient food ethics systems of kashrut and halal and their sub-cultures in the US.

Kashrut

While we will not comprehensively cover Jewish food laws, there are several lines of approach we will pursue here ― understanding traditional kosher/kashrut (meaning fit, proper, correct) laws, exploring the broader domain of “Eco-kosher” as a contemporary movement, and examining some of the dynamics of the contemporary Jewish Food Movement. As a starting point, I want to draw attention to part of the process by which Jewish food ethics have increasingly engaged with environmental values over the last 20 years.

For the sake of argument, let’s make the following claims: religions in America have always maintained values of creation care, though when major waves of the environmental movement broke in America in the 1970s, many religions were not at the forefront or were not necessarily quick to take up boards and ride those waves. Hanging ten on the front of the board was the secular environmental movement, which filled in the most visible, vociferous, and activist role of the movement. That movement, for all its growth, has alienated itself from certain major portions of the American public to the extent that, for some Americans (typically conservative Americans), being an “environmentalist” is a label to be avoided at all costs ― it puts one at risk of being ridiculed as “green,” a “tree-hugger,” a “hippie,” a “bleeding-heart liberal” or worse. Simultaneously, religious environmental thinking, movements, initiatives, programs, organizations, and statements have continued to grow to the point where some of the leading voices for environmental change now come from faith communities, and most environmental groups now see faith communities as important allies. These points suggest that if advocates of the environmental movement would like to see better progress toward environmental integrity and sustainability in America, they should reexamine faith based environmental values and the communities that hold them, and perhaps widen or expand their own view of what counts as an “environmental value” or as an “ally” in progress toward sustainability. In many cases, it may be that faith-based environmental perspectives hold solutions to problems the secular environmental movement has been unable to address, and faith communities may have much deeper resources to offer the environmental movement than it has been able to generate on its own.

Likewise, even though Judaism has had a food ethics system in place for more than two millennia, most people don’t think of the animal welfare movement as a Jewish idea, nor did animal welfare advocates in the US draw heavily on existing food ethics systems to make their arguments. I’d argue that in part, as vegetarianism gained momentum in the US, over time, religious points of reference for animal welfare and vegetarianism have emerged more and more. Contemporary Jewish thinkers have explored the powerful points of resonance between kashrut (and other Jewish ideals) and sustainable food systems, and have increasingly highlighted and celebrated those tenets both as an expression of environmental values and as a renewal of Jewish identity in engaging the issues of the day. ^[1] This sort of evolution has not been uncommon as a mode of religious-environmental program development ― just as the preservation movement of John Muir’s era made powerful use of resonant religious themes (of Edenic paradise) to promote the formation of national parks, secular or non-religious environmental arguments have been able to (consciously or not) make use of existing religious and spiritual values and to some extent may serve to re-awaken some of the values already implicit in traditional faith communities. ^[2]

Kosher, or kashrut laws, many of which derive from passages in Leviticus and Deuteronomy, have long prescribed a Jewish wisdom of eating. As Arthur Waskow describes:

Part of that wisdom was the code of eating kosher food in which only the meat of non-predatory animals and birds was kosher to eat; the food of mammalian life (milk) and mammalian death (meat) could not be eaten together; even this restricted kind of meat could only be eaten if the animal had been slaughtered in a painless way with prayerful consciousness and ritual; and vegetarianism was viewed as the higher, but not compulsory, path. ^[3]

By the standards of animal welfare, kosher meat should be “kosher” (fit) inasmuch as the animal’s suffering has already been addressed by assuring a painless death at the hands of the shochet, whose training and sharp instruments ^[4] produce a fast, painless death for the animal in what is “widely recognized as the most humane method of slaughter possible.” ^[5] Note that an animal rights view, which claims that animals have a right not to be killed, differs in belief from both animal welfare views and these Jewish views, so a community that adheres to certain animal rights beliefs might not believe it “kosher” to slaughter an animal regardless of method. For instance, vegans, who generally do not believe in the use or exploitation of any animal products, would not generally condone animal slaughter by any method. Similarly, Hindu beliefs about the sacred nature of cows would not permit slaughter of cows, regardless of method, and though Hinduism does not strictly prohibit eating meat, ^[6] it generally commends ahimsa, or non-violence toward all life, including animals, so Hinduism has long been associated with vegetarian diets.

Given the importance of diet to any life or culture, commentaries about religious food systems often mention the role of kashrut in setting the Jewish community apart as distinct and providing a communal identity that involves certain patterns and traditions of eating. The same might be said of vegan communities, whose dietary preferences and requirements have altered dining hall menus in universities and given rise to a wave of new urban/suburban restaurants that provide vegan menu options. Dietary traditions might not be championed for the sake of creating distinction, but dedication to distinct dietary traditions does tend to create food-related in-groups.

Halal

In similar fashion, Muslim food traditions establish distinct regulations for what is halal (acceptable) and what is not. Like Judaism, Islam does not prohibit meat eating itself, but in fact sanctions it (though like Judaism, with some restrictions) and cautions against anyone requiring vegetarianism of a Muslim.^[7] One interesting difference is that, in Islam, all non-human animals are considered Muslim believers (the same cannot be said for all humans), which underlines a sense of divine interest in all creatures. As with kashrut, in order for meat to be considered halal, the animal must have been slaughtered while invoking a blessing, and the slaughter is to be as painless as possible (halal requires a blessing be recited over each animal slaughtered, while kashrut requires blessings at the start and end of cohorts of animals, so some Muslims may avoid kosher meat because it might lack appropriate blessing). ^[8] Halal is a term that only applies to meat (kashrut extends beyond meats), and in general, kosher laws related to meats are a bit more restrictive than halal, so kosher meat may be deemed acceptable to a Muslim if halal meat is not available. Islamic dietary laws forbid alcohol consumption (kosher laws do not), so whether Jews and Muslims sometimes accept halal and kosher substitutions will depend on these various specific distinctions and on the level of observance of any particular adherent.

While the term “eco-halal” has yet to gain a significant foothold, it is easy to see the potential for Muslim food ethics to play a role in the larger conversation about sustainable and ethical food systems. An excellent example of the environmental dimensions of halal is found in the documentary film Renewal, which includes a segment on Muslim food ethics, which is summarized here. And increasingly, commentaries are emerging that highlight food-system-related environmental concerns that go beyond halal, by invoking the broader concern that everything a Muslim consumes should be tayyib, or wholesome and pure.^[9] These larger ethical concerns that are also rooted in Islamic tradition are becoming integrally linked to establish a thoroughly Mulsim perspective on food ethics, in much the same way that eco-kashrut is expanding contemporary food ethics and ethos in Judaism.

Eco-Kosher and the Jewish Food Movement

Given that kosher laws have been established and codified for a long time, changes to kashrut itself aren’t a likely prospect, but an “eco-kosher” perspective, a more comprehensive Jewish food ethics, can be developed by adding other Jewish ethical concerns on top of kashrut practices. For instance, it may not be kosher to mix meat and milk, but for an environmentally-minded Jew, should it be considered eco-kosher to eat vegetables that were grown using excess fertilizers that polluted a local waterway? By adding layers of ethical complexity, the patterns and traditions of one’s kosher practices can be expanded to respond to the many environmental values that also matter regarding the food we eat. Eco-kosher food choices would aim to support agricultural sources that are just (e.g. not exploitative of migrant laborers), environmentally sound (not polluting by overuse of fertilizers or chemicals), and sustainable, for instance. How exactly individual Jews and Jewish communities might choose to ritualize or reinforce new and healthier food choices is undoubtedly a complex and various prospect. One example of how these ideas and conversations have been engaged is the Jewish Food Movement, ^[10] promoted by the organization Hazon, which has engaged contemporary Jewish communities in questions of Jewish identity in relation to environmental and food concerns. While this remains a new and emerging area of Jewish environmental culture, it is one of the better examples of how religion is shaping environmental and agricultural trends in America.