With over 800, 000 Jews attending the funeral of Shas spiritual leader and former chief Sephardi rabbi of Israel Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, it's fitting to adopt the Jewish custom to only speak well of the dead. In a few days, historians, political commentators, and journalists will examine the complex personage of Ovadia Yosef. They will assess the scope of his breakthroughs in Jewish law. They will also interpret the political revolution associated with him. A host of renowned Israelis have tried their luck at launching political revolutions -- from Yigal Yadin to Ariel Sharon, and a good many more -- but the only one who started a party that survived for 29 years was Yosef. And this is something acknowledged even by those opposed to the very existence, ideology and essence of this sectorial party. One thing is for sure: What was not accomplished with the Mizrahi protests in the Wadi Salib neighborhood of Haifa, or with the activities of the Black Panthers in Jerusalem, or with the establishment of the Tami party -- was actualized with Yosef's establishment of Shas. For the better? For the worse? Opinions vary. Yosef is considered to be the halachic decisor of his generation. What he has done for agunot (women stuck in unwanted marriages by husbands who cannot or will not grant them divorces) and for the unification of religious rulings among Mizrahi communities is a far-reaching process full of unique insight. The realistic hope that the callousness of Ashkenazi rabbis toward converts will pass in this generation stems from the changes that Yosef himself initiated, but did not complete. Because he ran into a brick wall, and because he was already getting on in age, and because one person does not lead several revolutions in his lifetime. His power does not hold with everyone, great as it may be. Non-Jewish immigrants to Israel, half-Jews, descendants of Lost Tribes and the descendents of those forced to convert out of Judaism, all seek to join the Jewish people. If it is at all possible to lower the hurdles on their way to this destination, it will be thanks to the work that Yosef began, but did not complete. Even the most recent incident -- where he backed the conversion by Jewish law of Israeli soldiers, but backtracked slightly following pressure from ultra-Orthodox Ashkenazi rabbis -- is an indication of this. And whoever has to make a halachic decision on this matter in the future will understand that Yosef's Torah understanding was that these conversions are valid and kosher, and that his vague backtracking on the issue was because he bowed to pressure, in part due to his age and physical infirmity. There is no doubt that the historians, political commentators and journalists who start to assess his legacy in the coming days will find dark spots alongside the light. They will also not know how to convincingly address inconsistencies that come up. Yet, Monday night, while masses mourned the loss of the great teacher of their generation, and packed the crowded cemetery in Jerusalem's Sanhedria neighborhood, it was fitting to recall his accomplishments and the hope he planted in the hearts of his supporters. His life has ended but his work is not complete.
