Rabbi Marcus Solomon, appointed to the Supreme Court of Western Australia, looks to bridge the worlds of Torah and Western legal tradition

Photos: Danny Zolberg

When the news broke that a rabbi had been appointed for the first time to the Supreme Court of Western Australia, it was the first that most of the international audience had heard of the Australian state, never mind its highest legal body.

But one glance at the solemn swearing-in ceremony was enough to explain what caught the eye of outlets as far afield as Israel and the US. Beneath the state emblem of a black swan and kangaroos, and flanked by his gowned colleagues, sat Rabbi Marcus Solomon. Judicial-looking in long robes and imposing, full-length beard, he proceeded to share an “old Jewish custom” with the court.

“At moments of importance in one’s life,” he said softly in his Australian accent, “we ought humbly to acknowledge life itself and the good fortune we share in having been sustained.

“And if the chief justice can use the Hebrew,” he continued, his fellow justices looking on poker-faced, “then I am not going to be outdone. Shehecheyanu v’kiyemanu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh!” he proclaimed, the paneled walls ringing with the unfamiliar sound, and then the court adjourned.

That address — part rabbinic sermon, part legal scholar, part dry humor — neatly encapsulates the world of Rabbi Marcus Solomon.

As founder of Perth’s Beit Midrash of Western Australia, popularly known as the Dianella Shule, he’s a bona fide pulpit rabbi. He’s also a man who has reached an eminence likely unprecedented in the modern world. And he’s done so in a way that visibly proclaims the harmony of both dimensions.

Even without a glimpse of his face, it would come as no surprise that Rabbi Solomon’s dual methods of reaching out to the world — professional and rabbinic — originated with the Lubavitcher Rebbe.

“When I sent a letter asking the Rebbe which path to devote myself to,” Rabbi Solomon recalls of the correspondence back in the ‘90s, “he replied that I should pursue my legal studies, but at the same time, devote my free time to education.”

It’s been decades since Western Australia (or WA as the state is known) required its justices to wear the wigs that the country’s British founders bequeathed, so the metaphor of wearing two hats doesn’t work. Nonetheless, Rabbi Justice Solomon’s sense of ease in both roles derives from his view of the liberalism that allowed him to rise to the top as an opportunity, not a threat.

That attitude informs his approach to Australia’s draconian Covid lockdowns, as well as the militant liberalism sweeping across the Western world that challenges Torah values on end-of-life issues.

“In the last few decades,” he says, “there’s been an assumption that Orthodox Judaism aligns itself with American conservatism, but that’s nonsense as a cursory glance through the Torah shows.”