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Lessons of the Holocaust – On Fundamentalism, Atrocities, and Autonomy (Column 67)

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This is an English translation (via GPT-5.4). Read the original Hebrew version.

With God's help

On the last Holocaust Remembrance Day, a number of thoughts came to me that seem important. I therefore thought it fitting to pause before the next column (which will deal with the question of whether the majority is right) and present them here.

Who Caused the Holocaust?

Rabbi Amital once related that he met Abba Kovner (poet and writer, partisan, publicist and ideologue, the education officer—some called him the politruk—of the Givati Brigade). Both were Holocaust survivors. Abba Kovner told the rabbi that in the Holocaust he lost his faith in God. Rabbi Amital replied that in the Holocaust he lost his faith in man.[1] There is an interesting reversal here: the atheist attributes the Holocaust to God, while precisely the rabbi attributes it to man. I have already noted here in the past that faith does not require one to see events in the world as the handiwork of God, since He granted us freedom to choose good and evil, and therefore acts like the Holocaust were carried out by the Nazis and not by God (at most, He did not prevent it). Here I want to focus on another aspect, though it touches on that one to some degree.

Religious Faith and Atrocities

In religious education we are taught that "Surely there is no God in this place, and they will kill me", that is, faith in God is a restraint against the terrible outcomes that can emerge from human deeds and impulses (Hobbes’s natural state). Belief in God is a guarantee of moral and humane conduct. By contrast, in our world there is a widespread feeling that the situation is the reverse: atrocities usually occur in the name of God and faith in Him. Without faith, there would be no atrocities. Humanism (placing man at the center) is the brake on the atrocities of religious faith. Thus, for example, Dawkins writes that in every society there are good people who do good deeds and bad people who do bad deeds. But the phenomenon of good people doing bad deeds can arise only in a religious society. Faith causes good people to do bad deeds in its name. Similarly, it is commonly thought that mass murderers always act in the name of religion. This is, of course, a factually nonsensical claim. In the sixth chapter of my book God Plays Dice I already pointed out that most mass murderers of the twentieth century were secular, and even acted in the name of secularity (Stalin, Pol Pot, Mao, and others. Hitler is a more complex question. So too today, in Africa and Eastern Europe, there are mass killings in the name of nation or tribe, with no clear connection to religion). True, in the past the murderers were religious, but in fact the whole world was then religious (and therefore those who did good deeds were also mainly religious). Since the birth of secularity, it has no reason to be embarrassed by its achievements in this less pleasant sphere as well. I wrote there that indeed there is no ideological murder without ideology (preferably a total one), but that is a simple tautology to which religion and religious faith have little connection.

Well then, each side is convinced not only that its way is correct, but that it alone guarantees morality. We are all biased, and therefore we do not think straight. There is nothing especially new in that. Here, however, I specifically want to argue that there is substance in the claims of both sides. Indeed, faith (like any unqualified ideological commitment) can lead to atrocities, and at the same time God can serve as a brake against them. This brings me to the question of the proper relationship between religious faith, critical thinking, and moral atrocities.

The Lesson of the Nuremberg Trials

To the average person it seems obvious that Nazis of every rank and level should be tried for their crimes. But from a legal point of view, a not-so-simple question arises here. How can one judge a person for obeying the law? At most, one can judge the legislator who enacted the laws, but can the citizen or soldier be put on trial as well? Legal judgment, as distinct from moral judgment, requires statutory grounds of guilt. As long as there is no legal clause forbidding the act, one cannot put a person on legal trial for having done it. It is therefore no wonder that many of the defendants in the Nuremberg trials adopted the defense that they had merely carried out orders (or the law). As far as I understand, the main legal innovation of the Nuremberg trials is that in certain cases a person can be brought to trial (legal, not only moral) even without a law prohibiting what he did. When he commits atrocities that violate every minimal moral truth, no law is needed in order to prosecute him. This was later expanded in the Kafr Qasim affair, when soldiers were prosecuted for carrying out the order they had received (to kill curfew violators). Since then, Judge Benjamin Halevy’s statement about “an order over which a black flag flies” has been etched in all our hearts. Such an order may not be given and may not be obeyed. Whoever gave it, and whoever carried it out, will stand trial for it. This is an extension of the above insight from the Nuremberg trials.

What underlies this innovation is a double assumption: 1. There are basic moral laws by which every person is bound, legally as well, and they bind regardless of whether they were legislated in his country. 2. A private individual bears responsibility for his actions, even if they were performed under orders from an authorized authority or by force of law. These are at most grounds for mitigation of punishment, but in the end a person who carries something out cannot shift responsibility for his actions onto another party, no matter how important, authorized, or wise he may be. If you did something, the fundamental responsibility is yours. This is a conception of the human being as a sovereign and autonomous creature who must make decisions about his actions and is therefore also responsible for them.

Conscientious Refusal

There is a further extension of this line of thought. What happens when a manifestly legal order or instruction is given, but the person finds it contrary to basic values in which he personally believes? For example, an order to evacuate settlements as part of a peace agreement. There are soldiers and citizens who see such an order as immoral and as contradicting, in a very fundamental and deep way, their moral world. On the other hand, it is clear that such an order is entirely legal. It is a decision of a sovereign government, implemented by the army and the military command, and therefore from a legal and military standpoint there is a complete obligation to obey it.

Such dilemmas arise mainly in the army, though not only there (there is also conscientious refusal or civil disobedience). There are people on the Left who feel this way about service in the territories or in Lebanon (or, as Amos Oz wrote, about a decision of expulsion-transfer against Arabs), and on the Right with regard to evacuating settlements and handing territory over to foreign rule. At first glance, in such a situation there is no escape, and the soldier or citizen must obey the order or the law, for no black flag flies over it. It is completely legal. But modern legal thought relates to such a situation in a more complex way. On the one hand, it is clear that there is an obligation to obey the law or the order, but on the other hand there is legitimacy (outside the legal plane) to refuse. The refuser will bear punishment because he violated the law, but society will not see him as a criminal, rather as a conscientious objector (which may also ease the punishment). Moreover, the punishment here does not express condemnation of the person, but serves as a filter whose purpose is mainly to verify that this is truly a step that contradicts his values beyond the red lines. The indication of that is that he is in fact willing to pay the price of imprisonment for his decision. If no punishment were imposed on such a person, it would open the door for anyone who disagrees with some order or law—or for whom it is merely inconvenient—to violate it. The legislator wants to ensure that this is done only in extreme cases. The citizen or soldier should not decide to refuse whenever something does not look right to him, but only in cases where, from the standpoint of his beliefs, the matter is acute and extremely grave. That is why such refusal carries a penalty.

Many people confuse the two planes. They treat an order to evacuate a settlement as an order over which a black flag flies. One may perhaps say this, but not in Judge Halevy’s original legal sense, since the order is completely legal and there is a legal duty to obey and execute it. This can be said only in the value sense (and not in the legal sense). The difference between the situations is that in the first case (a manifestly unlawful order), both the giver of the order and the one who carried it out will stand trial and be punished. And the one who refuses to carry it out, of course, will not be charged. But in the second case (conscientious refusal), the one who gave the order obviously will not be put on trial. On the contrary: the one who did not carry it out will be put on trial and punished, but at the same time he will still be seen as a legitimate and respectable citizen.

The Importance of Refusal

We are very used to hearing that refusal destroys the army and society. There is something to that, since an army is built on orders and a proper society is built on obedience and respect for the law. But that conception is only partial. It is equally important to make clear to people the possibility—and the duty—to refuse when the order or the law crosses a red line for them. And again, I am not talking about partisan statements that support refusal when it comes from the “right” side (in my eyes) and vehemently condemn it when it comes from the other side (which is what usually happens, of course, on both sides). I am speaking about the importance of refusal as such. I expect every person who is in a situation where the order or the law fundamentally contradicts his values (regardless of my own opinion about them) to consider the possibility of refusal, and to act on it when necessary. That is the human image within us. We are never only citizens of a state or soldiers in an army. First and foremost, we are human beings, committed to our own values and to our personal moral and conscientious backbone. Therefore every act we do must pass through our own personal filter, and it is not enough that the law or military orders require it.

When I taught in the yeshiva in Yeruham, I spoke with a group of students who were going out to an officers’ course. I told them that I would not go to war with a soldier whom I knew would never refuse me. That is a bad soldier who creates a bad army. The officer’s role is to educate the soldier to obey orders, and at the same time to drill into his ears his duty to refuse when the orders, in his view, cross a red line, or are manifestly unreasonable. This comes after he has carefully weighed how convinced he is, how well equipped he is with the facts, and how grave the expected moral or practical damage is in comparison with the damage caused by refusal. For example, there are situations in which an officer in the field receives orders that are clearly, to him, incorrect. This is not an ethical dilemma (except indirectly), but a command and operational decision. In some cases he has a duty to consider refusal. That is when it is completely clear to him that the echelon above him is wrong and stubbornly insists, and that all the relevant facts are in his hands. The military meaning of such ‘initiative’ is presented as destructive and is emphatically rejected by our society. But the meaning of blind obedience and a ‘small head’ mentality can be no less destructive, ethically and operationally, and can also lead to bad decisions, ethically or operationally. If at the end of the chain there are no people with backbone who will consider refusal, or if my soldier would never refuse me, then I as a commander have no motivation to weigh the orders I give. By contrast, soldiers who may refuse force the commanding echelon to think twice about the orders it gives. In that way, the orders will be better and more moral, and will create a better army. Therefore refusal is not only the soldier’s right, or a defense argument that grants legitimacy to his refusal (as with a conscientious objector). It is an important value that also improves the army’s ethical and operational functioning.

And again I will repeat that discipline is of course important, and refusal is a last resort for very unusual and extreme cases. The soldier and the citizen must consider very seriously whether, in the given situation, there is justification for refusal. Even so, the very existence of the possibility of refusal is extremely important on both levels: both for the quality of the soldier and the human being, and for the quality of the army and its orders. Blind obedience leads to atrocities and, among other things, also led to the Holocaust. But as noted, it can also lead to merely bad decisions by detached commanders.

On the Atrocities of Tyrants

I once read a biography of Stalin, and I remember that a thought accompanied me the whole time and I could not get rid of it. Here was the ruler of a huge state with some one hundred and fifty million citizens (the USSR). Everyone who had any kind of contact with him (as opposed to distant and innocent citizens, subject to incessant propaganda) was mortally afraid of him and wanted to kill him. And yet Stalin died in his bed after more than forty years of absolute reign of terror over this mighty empire (aside from conspiracy theories, which of course exist here too, as everywhere). How can that be? How can one man, by himself, for about half a century, defeat a superpower of one hundred and fifty million people with a huge army and powerful security organizations? The answer is fear, which leads to obedience. Stalin carried out all his atrocities through his soldiers and citizens. He did not do it himself. Stalin ruled over them without limit and enjoyed full obedience from them. Everyone was afraid to take a step of resistance or rebellion, lest someone inform on him, or lest he simply fail, in which case he would of course die immediately. That fear caused this entire enormous apparatus to bend to the order of a single man and dance to his tune. That is how he managed to carry out all his atrocities and lunacies.

Between Guilt and Responsibility

But what could the ordinary citizen do? He is terrified to death, and rightly so. Every time he turns to someone in an attempt to rebel, to assassinate, to prevent some order from being carried out, he exposes himself to a real danger to his life. The other person may inform on him, and he will be thrown into torture and death immediately. Is it any wonder that the overwhelming majority of people did nothing (there were those who tried, and indeed failed)?! Can one come to them with claims?

A similar question arises in the context of the people of Shechem. Maimonides writes in Laws of Kings, ch. 9:

And how are they commanded regarding laws? They are obligated to appoint judges and magistrates in every district and district to judge concerning these six commandments and to warn the people; and a Noahide who violates one of these seven commandments is to be executed by the sword. For this reason all the inhabitants of Shechem became liable to execution, for Shechem committed robbery and they saw and knew and did not judge him…

He explains that the inhabitants of Shechem became liable to death because they did not judge their king, who robbed Dinah and abused her. And the commentators have already challenged him: what could the ordinary resident of Shechem have done to his king? Is an ordinary citizen in a state (apparently not a democratic one) really capable of doing something against the injustices of his all-powerful king? He would have cut off his head on the spot—just like Stalin.

It seems to me that Maimonides’ claim is that although it is difficult to come with accusations against the ordinary person, responsibility nevertheless rests upon him. After all, what the king of Shechem did could not have been done without all the citizens. He rules by their power (even if he was not elected democratically), and therefore acts through their power, just like Stalin. They are the ones who give him his power, and without them he has no power at all. Therefore, even if each individual has a good explanation for why he does not act and cannot act, each citizen still bears personal responsibility. After all, together they certainly could have prevented it. One might perhaps say that there is no guilt here, only the imposition of responsibility.

Let me clarify that I assume I too would not have acted differently in the situation of the people of Shechem or of the citizens of the USSR, and yet if we do not impose responsibility on the individual citizen, we will not be able to prevent atrocities done by his power and through his power. All the inhabitants of Shechem are nothing but a collection of citizens, just as the USSR is nothing but a collection of its citizens. If none of them is responsible, then there is no one who will be responsible for the atrocities done by his power. There is no choice but to impose responsibility on the powerless individual, despite the fear and despite the fact that, in his place, we probably would not have acted differently. Still, a standard must be set that requires each such person to act, and in principle perhaps one can even judge him if he did not act.

Think of a Soviet soldier or policeman who comes to arrest or kill you unjustly. He is not guilty, because if he refuses they will surely kill him. May I kill him in order to save myself? Certainly yes. This is parallel to the law of a pursuer who is insane or a minor. Suppose an insane person takes a weapon in hand and begins shooting in all directions. This is of course not his fault, since he lacks understanding and bears no guilt for his actions. Is it permissible to kill him? Certainly yes. Not because he is guilty, but because he is the responsible party (that is, he is the one who must pay the price in order to neutralize the danger. Certainly I am not the one who should pay it). And indeed, in Jewish law it is certainly permitted, and required, to kill a pursuer even if he lacks understanding, since although he is not guilty, he is responsible. By analogy, it is permissible to kill a Soviet policeman who comes, against his will, to kill me. The meaning of this is that I assign him responsibility for what he is doing even though he bears no guilt for it.[2]

If so, responsibility for what a state does, even if it is totalitarian, rests on the citizens, for without them it would not happen. The responsibility is upon them to organize, resist despite the fear, and refuse. They are obligated not to agree to carry out the atrocities, and even to prevent their implementation, despite the fear. If they did not do so—perhaps there is no guilt, but the responsibility certainly rests upon them. This is the basis for the claims against the Nazi criminals. Even if there was terrible fear there and no real possibility of preventing the acts and resisting them, responsibility nevertheless rests upon them. As we have seen, the fact that there is an order, even a legal one, and even if there is terrible fear and helplessness, does not allow us to refrain from imposing responsibility on the individual citizen. Responsibility attributed to a collective and not to any of the individual citizens is empty of content (in the language of the Sages: "A pot owned by partners is neither hot nor cold"—a pot belonging to partners is neither hot nor cold). Obedient silence is what enables such atrocities to be carried out, especially on a large scale, and the imposition of individual responsibility, and only that, may perhaps prevent them. The way to prevent atrocities is to impose responsibility on the human being, even when he operates within an authoritarian and frightening system, and even when it is wise and just.

Application to Religious Law

Are these things applicable also to religious law (Jewish law)? It is worth noting that the atrocities being committed today in Iraq and Syria by ISIS are justified in exactly this way. Every such activist is certain that he is acting according to a divine command (through the caliph Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, who in his eyes is the direct mouthpiece of Allah). I believe them that this is indeed what motivates them (at least some of them). Does this exempt them from responsibility? At first glance, yes, for it is as though God or Moses our teacher were commanding us to do such things. In such a situation, would we not be obliged to do it? So what do we want from them?[3]

If such an ISIS operative were standing trial before us, what would we claim against him? That despite his faith, responsibility for what he does rests upon him. We would expect him to pass the orders and instructions he received—that is, the laws of his religion—through his own personal value-filter. The fact that he truly and authentically believes in that system does not exempt him from responsibility for his deeds. But if we demand this of him, there is no way not to demand it of ourselves and of everyone else. Everyone thinks his religion is surely right and surely just; only others commit unjustified atrocities. But personal duty and responsibility mean that even if I believe, responsibility for what I do rests upon me. If the Jewish law I follow obligates me to commit atrocities, I must refuse. If I do not do so, there is no difference between me and those ISIS men. I do not mean to say that Jewish law indeed instructs one to commit atrocities, only to establish the principle that a normative system, state law, the instructions of a charismatic leader, as well as religious law, do not exempt a person from responsibility for what he does. Every action of mine must pass through my own personal filter and not only through the ideological filter in which I believe. My assumption is that a person has a filter (moral intuition) that can stop the atrocities that his religion or ideology may cause him to commit (cf. Dawkins).

The conclusion is that a dash of “secularity” is indeed needed as a brake against atrocities. Faith too is a brake, but absolute faith and unconditional, unqualified commitment can serve as a catalyst for carrying out atrocities. Within each of us there must be a personal filter and a willingness to act autonomously that will prevent them. The conclusion is that humanity, too, has a restraining role with respect to religious faith, and vice versa. The optimal dosage is to be religious but also a little “secular.”[4] In fact, the obligation is to be myself.

In my book Emet Ve-lo Yatziv I argued that fundamentalism is commonly understood among us as people who commit extreme atrocities in the name of religion or some ideology. But the real problem is the philosophical root of fundamentalism. I defined fundamentalism on the philosophical plane as a belief that is not subjected to the test of critical thought. The danger in such an approach is not only that it may lead to atrocities. That is true, but it is only a symptom of the real problem. A person is supposed to be responsible for his actions and not allow any ideology or faith to dictate them in an uncritical way. The fundamental danger is that he loses his human image, namely his personal autonomy. The atrocities are the result. The Nuremberg trials, Kafr Qasim, and the arguments raised here teach that a person must pass his decisions and actions through the crucible of his own personal values, that is, not to be a fundamentalist toward any system—religious, ideological, national, or otherwise. This is the meaning of faith in man as a lesson of the Holocaust. True, man did not exactly prove himself, but man is also what overcame the Nazis. The lesson is that we apparently still need to improve in this respect (see Syria).

Can This Be a Religious View?

At first glance, the meaning of what I have said here is that a person ought not to be wholly committed to his faith and to what follows from it. At the base of our decisions there should always stand our personal outlooks and values. This seems to stand in direct opposition to the very foundations of the religious worldview and of religious education. And yet, it seems to me that this is the main lesson I derive from the Holocaust: that each person’s deeds are his own personal responsibility, and his ideological and other commitments are no excuse for unworthy behavior. One must not be too much of a religious zealot, and one must not abandon critical thinking.

In the religious and Jewish context, we must remember that Jewish law as we possess it is not the word of God, but a human processing of the word of God. What is written in the Torah is a basis, or raw material, which the Sages knead and shape in order to create Jewish law in practice. Therefore, even if we believe that God is perfect and moral and that no defect can exist in His instructions, that is certainly not true with respect to Jewish law, which is the product of human deed and thought. Therefore a halakhic instruction must always pass through our personal filter, and the claim that this is what Jewish law requires—and certainly the claim that some wise and charismatic person said so to me (Rabbi so-and-so or a certain leading sage of the generation)—does not justify any act in and of itself. The acting person is always responsible for what he has done and must be involved in the decision. He can of course decide that he trusts so-and-so, or such-and-such a book, but that too is his decision, and he is responsible for it and for its consequences.[5]

To reassure readers, I will bring a few sources here to show that this conception is not foreign even to the Sages. The Talmud in tractate Hullin 124a reports that Rav Nahman says to Ulla, after hearing from him some law in the name of Rabbi Yohanan:

He said to him: By God, if Rabbi Yoḥanan had told me this in his own name, I would not obey him.

He swears that even if he had heard such an instruction from Rabbi Yohanan’s own mouth, he would not obey it. Further down the page appears a similar statement by Rabbi Ami, which strengthens Rav Nahman’s opinion even more:

By God, if Joshua son of Nun had told me this in his own name, I would not obey him.

We see here that the Amoraim were not prepared to accept something illogical even if it had come to them directly from the mouth of Joshua son of Nun, the greatest of the prophets apart from Moses. Had they heard him say it, they would have concluded that he was mistaken and would not have accepted his words.[6]

It is also very much to the point to bring in this context the sugya of “a transgression for the sake of Heaven” (see Nazir 23b).[7] There too it is explained that a person who finds himself alone in an extreme situation is supposed to make decisions on his own, and in extreme cases even against Jewish law. Thus, for example, at the end of the page it is brought that the acts of Lot’s daughters (who had sexual relations with their father and gave birth to Ammon and Moab) were in the category of a commandment. The explanation is apparently that they saw that the whole world had been destroyed (in their perception; all they saw with their own eyes was devastation), and decided to violate the severe prohibition of incest, for which there is no legal permission in any situation, solely because the alternative was the extinction of the entire human species. The Sages praise them because this was “a transgression for the sake of Heaven.” There is no legal permission here, but this is what a person should do in so extreme a situation. They did so without an instruction from the leading halakhic decisor of the generation or an enactment of the Sages, but on the basis of the understanding that in such an extreme case their values and ethical judgment required them to violate Jewish law. As stated, for this decision they receive praise from the Sages.[8]

A Brief Look at the Binding

Abraham our forefather received an instruction from God to bind his son. He does not protest, but hurries to saddle his donkey himself early in the morning and fulfill the terrible command he has received. He neither reflects nor questions the moral wrong and the logical contradiction to the promise that "through Isaac shall offspring be called yours". At first glance, this is blind obedience, standing in direct opposition to everything I am preaching here. True, there are those who have interpreted Abraham as having failed the test of the binding,[9] but that is an implausible interpretation of the Torah’s verses (the Torah itself, and of course the Sages, never stop telling us the opposite). So how in fact does Abraham receive this divine instruction? Why does he not show responsibility toward his personal values? To sharpen the difficulty, I will remind the reader that in the overturning of Sodom, Abraham argues with God in a very stubborn way and certainly does not simply accept His decisions. Why, at the binding, does Abraham not suspect that perhaps it is not God speaking to him? Perhaps these are hallucinations or some sort of deception (Descartes’ deceiving demon)? For the command he received blatantly contradicts both morality and reason.

Kierkegaard, in his book Fear and Trembling, exalts this sacrifice, and in fact sees in it the very essence of the binding. Abraham (who in his eyes is the “knight of faith,” that is, the ultimate believer) bound his morality and his reason, and by doing so proved that he was a true believer. But Rav Kook, in his siddur Olat Re’iyah, in his commentary on the binding, goes most of the interpretive distance in parallel to Kierkegaard, but his conclusion is the exact opposite. If Christianity places the absurd at the center of faith, Judaism places reason and understanding there. God is in effect teaching Abraham that it cannot be that God would command him such a thing. In Rav Kook’s eyes, the lesson of the binding is the command "Do not stretch out your hand against the lad". If you thought that God could command you to do such a thing, you were mistaken. It is admirable that you obeyed God. You proved that you are a true and committed believer. But the lesson is that in such situations (not exactly such situations; see the details below) one must not obey. Abraham showed tremendous self-sacrifice, and for that he received full appreciation, but on the substantive level Jewish law comes to teach us the opposite lesson: that one must not do things against morality, values, and reason, even if there is a divine command. If such a command reaches us, we have apparently erred in understanding it.

In my article on the Holocaust I argued that one person cannot judge another person who is in a different situation. The right to the final decision is given to the person who is in the situation (as in the case of Lot’s daughters). However extensive one’s knowledge of Jewish law may be, it does not enable me to decide in place of the person in the situation. If we return to the binding, I have never in my life experienced a divine revelation, and therefore I can offer Abraham solutions such as: perhaps this is not revelation but some kind of deception. But Abraham experienced the revelation, and as a prophet who knows revelations he apparently knows that the matter is clear and beyond doubt. He has no doubt that God Himself is involved here and that no moral wrong will emerge from it. He cannot explain that certainty to someone who has not experienced prophecy, just as a sighted person cannot explain to a blind person the confidence he has in what he sees with his own eyes. A blind person who lacks the sense of sight does not understand why I am so certain and do not cast doubt on what I see (especially since I too know that phenomena such as a fata morgana exist, and yet this still does not lead me to doubt what I see).

If so, when a prophet receives a direct divine revelation, he can and should do what God commands him. He presumably also has confidence that no moral wrong will come of it (and indeed in the end no moral wrong came from the binding). But that is with respect to a prophet like Abraham. To us, ordinary mortals, nothing comes directly from God. With us, it is always the word of God delivered through the mediation and processing of human beings. Therefore we must always examine what we are told with a critical eye and not accept it automatically. Even the Torah itself was not necessarily given verbatim at Sinai (it apparently contains later additions). Therefore, at least for one who is not a prophet, the general directive should be not to accept anything automatically. Despite religious faith and commitment to Jewish law, one must always pass things through one’s personal filter, for otherwise atrocities may emerge. This is an application of the lessons of the Holocaust to religious and halakhic thought, as I have suggested here.

A Bit of Current Events to Conclude

The reader will surely forgive me if I cannot restrain myself, and here too I will end with some criticism of a public statement. Miriam Naor, President of the Supreme Court, spoke at the ceremony for the swearing-in of judges at the President’s Residence, and referred there to Holocaust Remembrance Day:

"This is one of the most important lessons that we must learn from the darkest chapter in our history as a people; from the most terrible crime known to human history, the Holocaust," she said. "One of the lessons of the Holocaust is that democracy cannot be identified with majority rule. Not every decision or law adopted by majority vote is thereby necessarily a democratic decision or law, for history teaches that, if the power of the majority is left unchecked, it may turn into tyranny". And she added: "The dark days of the Nazi regime taught us that the rule of a majority that denies individuals their rights; a majority that oppresses the minority living within it—is not democratic rule".

There is a strange phenomenon here, though I have already grown used to it: senior public figures can say any banal nonsense that comes into their heads, and it turns into a headline and is presented as a deep and sublime piece of wisdom worthy of quotation and press discussion. In this spirit, I can already foresee the headline for Memorial Day for Israel’s fallen soldiers: “The president said that by their death they commanded us life,” or the headline of the coming Independence Day: “The prime minister said that Israel will stand on its own feet thanks to its talented sons and extraordinary achievements, and will continue to be an exceptional and creative democratic model, an example to the entire world” (ah, and we will also fight Iran), and many more pathetic phrases of this sort.

Well, we are already used to that. But in the passage quoted above we encounter an even more fascinating phenomenon: our President of the Supreme Court (!) displays the power of thought and formulation of a small child. I will begin with an exercise for the reader: how exactly does the Holocaust prove that democracy cannot be identified with majority rule? If Nazism had been accepted by all the citizens of Germany (and not only by the majority), and had oppressed no minority at all, would it then have been enlightened? What does this have to do with claims about majority rule in general? Was the problem with the Nazis that they did not protect minority rights? The problem was that they murdered people indiscriminately everywhere they reached. With no connection whatsoever to majority rule, minority rule, or the collective as such.

Naor presumably meant to say that the Holocaust proves that majority rule cannot be identified with enlightenment and morality. But that is rather banal, is it not? At the very least, when the majority is wicked, the government that relies on that majority will probably be wicked. Does anyone see any novelty here? This tautology is not especially illuminating. Indeed, one should be wary of majority rule, because sometimes it too is dangerous to human rights. But that is not necessarily because of abuse of a minority, but because that majority makes wicked decisions toward outside parties.

In sum, it is indeed important to protect minority rights and not to follow majority decisions blindly and captive-like. That is of course true, and even banal. But one may expect our President of the Supreme Court to manage to formulate her banal “innovations” in a reasonable and logical way, and not to confuse conceptually between democracy and morality, or between majority rule and wicked rule. And even had she chosen a better formulation, it still would have been worth sparing us these banal tautologies.

[1] I do not think it is correct to say that Rabbi Amital had no faith in man. Sometimes I had the feeling that his faith in man was excessive. It seems to me that his intention was to say that the Holocaust should not be attributed to God but to man, and therefore, if one is going to lose faith in something, it is fitting to lose faith in man rather than in God.

[2] According to Jewish law, there is a rule of let him be killed rather than transgress regarding murder. That is, Jewish law imposes responsibility on a person for an act he would perform under coercion, and obligates him to give up his life even though he is not guilty of killing the other person (he is coerced into doing it). This is precisely the difference between guilt and responsibility (and indeed the medieval authorities dispute whether, if he transgressed and killed, he is punishable, or whether he is considered coerced and therefore, although he committed a transgression, he is not punished).

[3] Ehud Barak once said that if he were a young Palestinian, he would have taken part in acts of terror and attacks against Jews and Israelis. Everyone was outraged at him, although he was of course correct. But the implication that seemed to emerge from his words—that we should have no claims against them—is incorrect. If indeed they do this innocently, according to their view, then perhaps there is no guilt upon them, but the responsibility certainly rests on them.

[4] The term is, of course, a metaphor. That itself is my religious conception.

[5] I will bring an interesting personal story of my own. When I studied in a yeshiva in Bnei Brak, my rabbi was a Haredi kollel scholar from Bnei Brak, a distinguished student of the legendary head of the Ponevezh yeshiva, Rabbi Shmuel Rozovsky. When Rabbi Shach founded Degel HaTorah, there was a chase after every voter for fear they would not pass the electoral threshold. I, of course, announced in the yeshiva that I was going to vote for the National Religious Party (simply because those around me were voting otherwise). The next day one of the teachers came to me and informed me that Rabbi Shach was calling for me (we had good relations with his family, and he had apparently also heard about the brat from personal sources). I did not go, because I was afraid he would instruct me to vote for Degel HaTorah, and then I would certainly obey him (in the end I did vote for them. But I probably will not repeat that folly again). Afterward I asked my rabbi what would happen if I reached heaven and there they called me to account for not having voted for the National Religious Party, which is the correct vote in the eyes of the Master of the Universe. If I told them that I had received an instruction from Rabbi Shach, would responsibility for the mistake be removed from me? After he recovered from this bizarre question (in his eyes), he gave me an answer no less surprising: absolutely not. Rabbi Shach probably has a higher chance of hitting the truth, and therefore it is worthwhile to obey him. But responsibility for the mistake always rests on the one who acts. I must say that such an autonomous approach, coming from a Haredi rabbi, really surprised me. Not for nothing do I see him, to this day, as the one closest to being my rabbi.

[6] It is interesting to bring here the words of the Beit Yosef in Yoreh De'ah, at the end of sec. 242, who wrote:

It is written at the end of the book Orḥot Ḥayyim: If a person quarrels with his fellow and says to him, "I would not accept it from you even if you were like our teacher Moses," he is flogged for contempt. End quote. And it seems to me that this is why the Talmud says (Ḥullin 124a), "Had Joshua son of Nun said it in his own name, I would not obey him," and does not say, "Had Moses said it".

That is, the unlimited obligation applies only to Moses our teacher. One should remember that Moses stated only the Torah, whereas all its interpretations were stated by later Sages. Therefore, in the Jewish law in our hands, nothing is literally from Moses’ own mouth. Hence, in practice, one may decline to accept any halakhic statement of any kind if one is convinced that it is incorrect.

And the Taz there, in subparagraph 20, wrote that this is not even because Moses does not err, but because such a statement contains dishonor to Moses, since it says that another man like him could exist, and that is impossible (for the Torah says "None arose like Moses"). He broadens the permission even further, to reject such a statement even with respect to Moses. What was forbidden was only comparing someone to Moses.

[7] See on this in my article on transgression for the sake of Heaven.

[8] I note that in the Talmud there this is not brought as part of the sugya of transgression for the sake of Heaven, but the context seems clear.

[9] I have seen several such interpretations in Aviezer Ravitzky’s article on this topic (which I do not have before me at the moment). He argues that there is a difference between Sephardic and Ashkenazic interpretation on this issue.

Discussion

Shimon Yerushalmi (2017-04-26)

With all due respect, is a commandment such as blotting out Amalek also (God forbid) a "human interpretation" of Hazal or a "later addition" to the Torah?! Exactly where is the line drawn?!

Shimon Yerushalmi (2017-04-26)

Additionally, following from that, why do you define loyalty to a person's moral autonomy and the like as "being a bit secular," when you yourself have often argued that this stems from the religious command of "and you shall do what is right and good," etc.? So why should we need a dash (or more) of secularity to prevent moral injustices in the name of Judaism, when Judaism itself instructs this, even without the mongrel "poly-normativity" that you advocate?!..

Michi (2017-04-26)

See note 4.

Michi (2017-04-26)

I don't know. What I do know is that the details of the commandment are certainly processed by human beings. After all, there are disputes (such as whether we first offer them peace or not). Even when the verse is not taken literally (like "an eye for an eye," or the stubborn and rebellious son), that too is a decision of the sages not to do so. Therefore, at least de facto, these halakhot are human decisions.
But in order to decide practically, one must live within the situation one feels, experiences, and understands. If there were Amalekites in our world and we recognized them as little Nazis, I assume there would be room for the full implementation of the commandment to wipe them out in its plain sense. If they were ordinary people like you and me, nobody would kill them. The only question is what tools would be used to justify that and whether people would honestly admit it.

Shimon Yerushalmi (2017-04-26)

Thank you for the response! Indeed, with God's help I need to study these matters with the intellectual honesty and fear of Heaven that I get the impression you are trying to maintain..

Avshalom Ben Tzvi (2017-04-26)

Regarding the responsibility of subjects under a tyrannical regime, I think it appropriate to bring here two statements by Aharon David Gordon:

"What are governments, if not the peoples themselves? Can there be a government without a people? […] The people, the power of the people, are always the ruler under every regime, even under tyranny. And if the regime is evil, that means the people do not contain enough consciousness or enough will. Enough will to attain a better regime than this."
(Letters from the Land of Israel, Third Letter)

In general, one sees the progress of public life in the transfer of rule—at first political, and more recently economic as well—from the hands of the individual or the few into the hands of the many, of the public, of the people. But what does this transfer mean, what is its importance? People think that the essence of subjugation lies in the rule of the individual or the few, and the essence of liberation in transferring rule to the people. But the matter is not so simple. The people—the power of the people—has always ruled and will always rule. And on the other hand, there always has been and always will be an administration for the state and the political economy, in one form or another. The difference is only this: when the people, every single individual among them, lack self-awareness, the ruling power of the people is blind, and the administrator or administrators do with it as they please. The people are a herd and are in their hands like sheep in the hand of the shepherd. But when the people, every single individual among them, possess enlightened self-awareness, then their ruling power will be enlightened power, and the administration will merely carry out their word, execute their commands, realize their aspirations. The force of subjugation therefore lies not in the rule of the administration, nor does the force of liberation lie in taking rule away from the administration. The force of subjugation lies in the lack of self-awareness of the governed. Rule here passes, as it were, from the outside inward, into the soul of every individual—from the rule of the external administration over individuals by the power of the many, as required by the necessities of blind public life, to the rule of the individual over himself, according to what enlightened self-awareness requires. And all the individual rulerships join together into one general rulership, the rule of the people, just as voices join together in a choir of singers. The administration in such a case is only like the conductor of the choir, who neither rules nor instructs, but merely directs the voices toward their complete unity.

That is to say: so long as the people, so long as every single individual of the people, does not know how to educate himself, to govern himself by a supreme inner government, all popular government will be of no avail"
(Life and the Labor of Life in the Light of the Idea, Laws of Opinions and the War of Opinions)

And perhaps sometimes 'fundamentalism' is preferable? (The Lodz community as a parable) (2017-04-26)

With God's help, Rosh Chodesh Iyar 5777

In Lodz, the Judenrat received an order from the Nazis to provide them with a certain number of Jews to be sent to extermination; otherwise, the Nazis would take all the Jews of the ghetto indiscriminately.

The head of the Judenrat, Chaim Mordechai Rumkowski, thought the Nazi demand should be met, because if they refused, all the Jews of the city would be eliminated immediately. By contrast, if they complied, the Judenrat could choose those sent to destruction and send those who in any case would not live long—old people, the weak, the sick, and the like. Thus those fit for labor would remain alive, and because of the benefit they would bring the Germans, it would be worthwhile for them to keep the ghetto in existence.

The rabbis of Lodz opposed this, for established halakhah is that if gentiles demand, "Hand over one of you to be killed," they should all be killed rather than hand over the few to death, because one life is not pushed aside for another, even a few against many. Rumkowski rejected the rabbis' words, arguing that there is a moral obligation to save whoever can be saved, even at the cost of giving up the lives of the weak and cooperating in their killing, since in that way we save as many as possible.

And he almost succeeded. He instituted a harsh regime in Lodz that made Lodz a place of economic benefit to the Germans, and even in 1944, about a year after the liquidation of all the ghettos in Poland, the Lodz ghetto still remained in existence. But Rumkowski only almost succeeded, for when the Germans saw that the Russian army was approaching, they eliminated what remained of the Lodz ghetto, with Rumkowski among them.

So perhaps it is preferable to uphold "Do not be overly righteous," and not "seek many calculations," but to follow the guidance of the Torah of God, as interpreted by generations of righteous prophets and sages, who were exemplary both in their faith and in their moral leadership?

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

It is worth noting that the consideration of sacrificing a few in order to save many is not categorically rejected by the Torah either. As the authors of Torat HaMelekh showed, in the laws of Noahides one does sacrifice a few in order to save the many, just as U.S. President Truman did when he destroyed two cities in Japan and thereby brought about the immediate end of the war and saved the lives of tens of thousands and perhaps hundreds of thousands who would have been killed had the war continued. Only for the children of Israel was the law renewed that "one life is not set aside for the many."

David (2017-04-26)

A fascinating article, but one point is unclear to me: where is the line at which rational criticism stops when a person feels certain of direct divine revelation (as you wrote regarding Abraham at the binding)? After all, it is possible that ISIS murderers really do experience such a revelation instructing them to commit atrocities, and if so—they are offering moral choice. Moreover, the statement that one cannot judge a person who is in a different situation (which I fully accept in the context of the Holocaust) also serves as a moral cover for every crime committed out of religious fervor if the murderer truly and sincerely believes that this is what he was commanded to do.

David (2017-04-26)

You are oversimplifying the matter. Did he believe that Stalin knew what had to be done. And he was like a father; occasional utility here and there does not remove his authority. There was someone who was asked about Stalin's personality. It was indeed a cult, but there was a personality

Yehoshua (pseudonym) (2017-04-26)

Indeed, enlightening and well-formulated words.

As a relatively freshly discharged soldier (a year), you brought me back to many arguments I had when I was a commander in a tank commanders' course, and to many discussions I had about what is demanded of the soldiers (the future commanders) and about our behavior toward them—should we act out of obedience, which is the basic and important trait for the army, or should we pass things through our own filter?

My opinion was that one of the more important things demanded of a soldier is his ability to be himself, with all his opinions and beliefs, and from there to know how to interpret the order according to his own views and understanding (of course, one of the main considerations is the importance of system-wide functioning in the army and the importance of the chain of command). I got a lot of grief for that, especially from the commanders above me, but that is how I acted and that is how I trained my soldiers, future commanders. Not long ago one of my commanders called me, after being discharged following 10 years of service, and told me that in his eyes I had been an ideal command figure, and unfortunately he had not had enough objectivity to see things from within the system.

The point is not to praise myself, but to show that most people (if not all of them) agree with your words in general; the main problem, however, is the ability to live these things "in real time," to know how to relate them to yourself (just as the Ramhal says in Mesillat Yesharim—"And even though its beginnings and foundations are already fixed in the heart of every upright person, if he does not occupy himself with them, he will see their details and not recognize them; he will pass by them and not sense them").

In my opinion there is still a difference between an ordinary citizen who did nothing and someone who was a partner in the name of that system, even if he had no choice. When a person acts on behalf of a certain society, as a representative of the government (even a civil servant is a representative of the government while carrying out his role), it is not certain that he is guilty, but he does bear responsibility. By contrast, a silent citizen who allowed things to happen without taking action bears no responsibility at all (though that may perhaps be the morally proper thing to do and the like, one should not see him as responsible for what happened).

And so too in the army—I expect every commander to pass things through the filter of his own mind, מתוך understanding that he bears responsibility for what is done, unlike the ordinary soldier, and therefore I, poor as I am, also disagree with Judge Benjamin Halevi—a soldier's role is to carry out, always, to pull the trigger in every situation without any thought or second thought beyond his commander's order. By contrast, a commander, even though he too has a commander, when he receives an order he is required to pass it through his own filter, and with him indeed the concept applies of "an order over which a black flag flies." Not every person is required to take responsibility for his own actions as part of a collective, but only a person whose authority to act derives from that collective. One can admittedly also say of a soldier that he is part of the collective, but since the character of the collective among us is democratic, whereas army enlistment is compulsory, it follows that a person serving as a simple soldier, without any command role and without becoming "part of the system," bears no responsibility even for his own actions (and therefore Elor Azaria did nothing wrong except disobey his commander, because his role is to do his commander's will)

David (2017-04-26)

Suddenly it seems to me to set the human sense of justice as the yardstick. The world is God's creation. And whatever advances these goals—is moral.

Michi (2017-04-27)

Very nice. Many thanks.

Michi (2017-04-27)

S.Z.L., I didn't understand the claim. Did I say that rabbis are always mistaken or wicked, God forbid? What I said is that halakhah needs human oversight ("secularity" as a brake on faith), and of course the opposite oversight is also needed (that is the claim that faith is a brake on impulses).
By the way, regarding the dispute you cited, I do not know who was morally right. It is not at all simple that they were right. After all, even Maimonides, who brings this halakhah (Foundations of the Torah 5:5), is attacked by all the commentators for the lack of logic in his ruling. The Kesef Mishneh there is very strained, and the Lehem Mishneh there explains that this law exists only where there is a chance that everyone (including the one handed over) will be saved, and without that the members of the Judenrat are right. So the logic of the Judenrat is not at all absurd (assuming their factual assessment that this would help was correct). By the way, I addressed this and explained his ruling in my article in Tehumin 25 on separating Siamese twins.
You yourself wrote that this is a logical law and therefore it applies to Noahides. So what is your argument against the Judenrat? They acted according to the rules of reasonable morality. How do you know halakhah is more moral here? This is a halakhic approach and not necessarily a moral one.
By the way, my conclusion in that article is that one does sacrifice a few for the many (with the consent of the few) in the laws of preserving life, even among Jews. The rule of the Jerusalem Talmud and Maimonides applies only where desecration and sanctification of God's name are involved; see there carefully.

Michi (2017-04-27)

There is no such line. Every person has to decide in the situation in which he finds himself. When there is direct and certain revelation, then Abraham feels that very certainty, and therefore his decision is to do it. The certainty itself is part of the criterion for decision (as in the parable of the blind man and the sighted man, where one sees that it is impossible to set external objective criteria).
When a person acts in a certain way, I can still judge him for responsibility even if not for guilt. True, one has to take his personal conviction into account. The fact that he claims it changes nothing; the question is whether I am convinced. This judgment too is itself a decision of the judge who is in the situation (of judging), and he has no criteria. It seems to me that my remarks in the article are directed toward acting by criteria rather than by intuition. The criteria and the general, theoretical considerations are important, but as an instrument for checking and shaping intuition. In the final analysis, intuition is what is supposed to decide. And Rabbi Dr. Kahneman, author of Thinking, Fast and Slow, already wrote that in most cases our intuition works better than recursive thinking. It seems to me that in the moral realm too this is the case.

Michi (2017-04-27)

I didn't understand the claim (and there are also typos). For the fact that the people believed in it and followed him, they are responsible and must answer for it.

Michi (2017-04-27)

I do not agree with the distinction you made between a soldier and a commander. The commander too is subordinate to his commander. Everyone is human and everyone is responsible.

I also agree with you that there is a difference in responsibility between someone who took an active part and someone who neither protested nor prevented it. Still, there is some degree of responsibility on every citizen or soldier, each according to his place, role, and functioning.

By the way, I too was a gardener. 🙂

Michi (2017-04-27)

You only forgot to sign:
Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi

I was reminded of something (not a comparison, of course, just an association). Mark Twain once received a letter with one word: idiot. He replied: I have already received letters without a signature, but this is the first time I have received a letter containing only the signature and no content.

The Torah's control over 'moral autonomy' (2017-04-27)

With God's help, Rosh Chodesh Iyar 5777

To Rabbi M.A.—greetings,

Everyone comes with a moral argument. Rumkowski truly thought he was saving the Jews of Lodz; Yigal Amir truly thought he was saving the people of Israel from Rabin's dangerous policy; and Yishai Schlissel truly thinks he is like Phinehas, who turned away God's wrath from Israel.

The Torah has an answer to such arguments, because it comes from a higher and more complete perspective. It recognizes not only the arguments "for," but also the decisive arguments against. When the decision is entrusted to the Torah sages, whose judgment is accompanied by the wisdom and experience of generations, and in fateful matters of capital law there certainly must be a clearly recognizable majority in both wisdom and number—then we have a shield against immature morality.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger
.

Michi (2017-04-27)

Indeed. And still it is very important not to give up autonomy. When you write "the Torah," that has a double meaning: the Holy One, blessed be He, or halakhah (which is the handiwork of human beings). It is very important to hold on to this and not let go of that either. To remind you: Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi could have said these same sentences, and I am convinced his followers embrace them with the same fervor with which you embrace them. But I already wrote all this in the post itself.

An excellent example of autonomy (2017-04-27)

Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi is indeed another example of the danger inherent in autonomy. Even if he had consulted with the majority of the sages of his religion in our generation, he would have greatly improved his moral situation. All the more so if he had acted in the tradition of the caliphs and taken people like Rabbi Shmuel HaNagid and Maimonides as guides and advisers 🙂

We, thank God, have a Torah given from the mouth of the Almighty, both the Written Torah and the foundations of the Oral Torah, and they were clarified generation after generation in fidelity to the source and its spirit by sages who were exemplary in their faith, morality, and integrity. We have a stable and secure moral compass.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

gil (2017-04-27)

One claim that keeps recurring requires sharpening. Namely, the distinction you somehow draw between the Written Torah (at least most of it), which is from Heaven, and the Oral Torah (at least most of it), which is human. Against this one should argue whichever way you take it: if you test by your own logic, one can prove that most of the Written Torah is not from Moses (perhaps aside from a few verses about which it is written, though in the third person, "And Moses wrote"—the journeys of the children of Israel, the remembrance of Amalek, the book of the covenant, and perhaps the book of Deuteronomy), and also that when it contradicts morality it should be set aside. But if you follow the faith of Israel that continues and is nourished from the days of the revelation at Sinai—then by the force of your own logic you will not be able to set aside the Oral Torah either.

To explain: in your opinion, most of the Torah is not from Heaven but stems from the reasoning of our sages. And on that basis their rulings should be called into question when these conflict with our morality. The problem is that in the opinion of the overwhelming majority of the thinkers of Israel, its decisors, its rabbis, and the public as a whole—most if not all of the Oral Torah was given to Moses at Sinai. That is the simple, prevalent assumption among believers. Moreover, even if you prove to them that most rabbinic interpretations were not said to Moses, they will still believe that they are an expression of the direct divine will revealed as a spirit from on high in their study halls. Therefore, in their opinion, the Torah should be seen as the fruit of prophetic revelation that cannot be set aside by morality—just as Abraham was obligated to bind his own will once he heard God Himself say otherwise. We too hear otherwise by virtue of the Torah—and the difference between us and other religions is that we had revelation at Sinai, and therefore the certainty of our faith is absolute, unlike theirs.

If you do not accept this premise—and it is understandable why not—then your premise is unclear, perhaps mere lip service: namely, that where the Written Torah adopts an immoral command that cannot be played around with, you would indeed act according to the immoral command!

—It is not clear why revelation has any more value for the Written Torah than for the Oral Torah. Only because you have not studied this one enough? Biblical scholarship makes it clear that neither God nor Moses wrote the Torah. So why this double standard? The most you prove in the Fifth Notebook is that there was a revelation of something to someone at some time and place.

Conclusion: according to you, even when the Written Torah commands you to act in a way that is not moral and is a red line, you would set it aside without any problem even without the power of the Sanhedrin, etc., simply on the basis of the obvious conclusion that you cannot be sure whether this specific command was in fact given to Moses or is a later addition, whereas of the moral command within you, you can be sure.
Seemingly, if I am not mistaken in my understanding (and I would be glad to understand where the mistake is), this is a conclusion that follows from your beliefs.

Michi (2017-04-27)

S.Z.L., please forgive me for what I am about to say: sometimes I feel as though I am talking to a wall. Al-Baghdadi's followers think exactly as you do. That does not mean you are not right, because I too agree with you (almost completely). But it only means that even the decision that our Torah is wonderful and does not lead to moral atrocities is your decision, and on that basis you decided to accept its yoke. So once again you exercised your own judgment and did not submit to someone merely because he says something.

Michi (2017-04-27)

Hello Gil.

This is black-and-white thinking, and you won't get far with it. I do not test things by my own logic. I also accept things even if I do not understand them (and this is because of the tradition that they were given at Sinai). But if there are things that fundamentally contradict my worldview, I will consider whether to observe them—that is, whether they were given by the Almighty. By contrast, I accept the Oral Torah not because of a tradition that it was given at Sinai, but because I am committed to the tradition itself. But within that framework I allow myself to exercise critical judgment, since this is a human Torah.
And it is simply not true that in the opinion of most Jewish sages the Torah was given at Sinai. That is complete nonsense. Even when they say this, they mean a normative statement, not a historical one. Anyone who knows the Talmuds and commentators a bit knows this is not true. And even if all these things were shown to Moses at Sinai (as Tosafot Yom Tov writes in his introduction), they were not passed on. After all, when Rabbi Shimon decided to exempt labor not needed for its own sake, that was not because of a tradition he had received, but because that was his opinion. He innovated that law. And so on.
There is absolute certainty about nothing. Anyone who has it is either deceiving me or deceiving himself, or else does not know what certainty is. We are human beings, and as such none of our conclusions is absolute. Your conclusion too—that there was a Sinai revelation and that certain things were said there—is your own conclusion, and as a human being you can be mistaken.
I did not say I would observe every command of the Written Torah without question. I wrote here the opposite, if only because there is no command that is clearly known to have come from the Almighty in all its details and interpretations. That is indeed the conclusion, as you wrote at the end. See also Lot's daughters.
The rest (such as the clear and unequivocal distinction between the Written and Oral Torahs) is explained in the notebook; read it again.

Indeed we resemble Baghdadi (2017-04-27)

With God's help, 1 Iyar 5777

To Rabbi M.A.—greetings,

Indeed, the two of us resemble al-Baghdadi. Both of us eat and breathe, believe and pray several times a day, both of us have head coverings and beards, and both of us believe in the righteousness of our path, etc. etc. And apparently for the sake of the three of us they ask in Yekum Purkan for "the exilarchs and the judges of the gate who are in the Land of Israel (S.Z.L. and Rabbi M.A.) and who are in Babylon (al-Baghdadi)" 🙂

But there is also one small difference: the two of us (along with hundreds of millions of Muslims and millions of believing Jews who observe their religion's commandments) do not murder masses in bizarre ways, do not plunder, and do not rape with cruelty "everything that moves"—so before attributing their acts of cruelty to faith, it would be worthwhile to look for the source of their cruelty and murderousness in other directions as well.

Perhaps their murderousness lies דווקא in their being an integral part of the "culture of the ambush" of the Western world, having grown up on the media, which supply their viewers with the old-new "amusements" of Edom-Rome's culture?

If the ancient Roman citizen delighted in gladiators being killed by wild beasts, and his successor of the "religion of love and grace" derived pleasure from seeing people burned at the stake and from staging pogroms against the current enemy—Jews, lepers, and witches—

the modern Roman need not trouble himself to come to the arena or the square—the media bring him the horrors 24/7, murders, torture, and disasters, online to the television screen and smartphone. The viewers rejoice at the sight, and the suppliers of horror enjoy the "attention."

Perhaps the culture that consumes violence and horror with fervor is the one inviting the production of those very phenomena?

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

The West's hedonism and search for tranquility also have a hand in empowering terror. As in Munich '38, the leaders of the West imagine that if they let regimes of evil receive their "pound of flesh" from their weak neighbors, they will leave the rich and satiated world in peace. Unfortunately, the wicked are like the troubled sea, which cannot be quiet, and in the end they will turn their power also against those who shut their eyes and stop their ears…

Michi (2017-04-27)

You keep returning again and again to comparisons, and that is a mistake. I made no comparisons, and I did not claim there is a resemblance to Baghdadi, or that Jews are as violent as Muslims. Beyond that, I do claim (now) that religious Jews are no less violent than secular ones, and perhaps more so. But that is really another discussion.
What I argued is that a person is required to bear personal responsibility despite his beliefs, out of concern for atrocities. Even your arguments that your system (ours) is good and that no atrocities will emerge from it are themselves your own judgment, and therefore you yourself chose that system and are not following it blindly. Again, this really seems to me like a dialogue of the deaf.

And what is this, then? (2017-04-27)

And what is "Baghdadi's followers also think exactly like you," if not a comparison?

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

'Prince of the land' is not an absolute ruler, and therefore the townspeople could judge him (2017-04-27)

With God's help, the 17th of the Omer, 5777

If Shechem and Hamor had had absolute rule over the inhabitants of their city, it is not plausible that according to Maimonides the citizens would have been obligated to risk themselves in rebellion against the kingdom. After all, Maimonides rules that a Noahide is not obligated to give up his life under the rule of "be killed rather than transgress" for his seven commandments; a subject is therefore not required to rebel against his king in order to fulfill the commandment of "laws."

What seems to me is that Hamor was the "prince of the land" and not a "king," an honored and respected leader whose words are heeded by the people of his city (just as Abraham was regarded in Hebron as "You are a prince of God among us"), and not an all-powerful king—and in such a status the inhabitants of the city could bring him to judgment.

This also seems implied by the fact that Shechem and Hamor need to persuade the townspeople to circumcise themselves and do not simply decree it by royal edict. Dina's ability as well to go out safely "to see the daughters of the land" shows that the regime in Shechem was fundamentally different from the monarchical regime in Egypt and in Gerar, where the king has unquestioned authority to take for himself any unmarried woman without asking her wishes.

This royal right was so deeply rooted that Abimelech king of Gerar challenges God: "Will You kill even a righteous nation?" It does not occur to him that a king who rapes a woman is not "righteous." Later, the daughter of the king of Sidon will marvel at the strange laws of kingship among the Israelites, which prevent the king from taking the land of his subjects, and she will try to teach her husband how "one exercises kingship." It appears, therefore, that in Shechem there was no monarchical regime, and therefore Dina and her parents did not fear that she would be taken by "the law of the kingdom."

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

Michi (2017-04-27)

S.Z.L.,
I won't enter here into a debate about the regime in Shechem. The idea is correct with or without Shechem, and that is what matters. As for the duty of a subject to give up his life, I disagree. This is not about martyrdom for a mere commandment. The absence of the rule of law is a matter of public mortal danger (I discussed this at length in my article here: https://mikyab.net/%D7%9B%D7%AA%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%91%D7%98-%D7%A0%D7%95%D7%A1%D7%A3-%D7%A2%D7%9C-%D7%97%D7%95%D7%91%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%99%D7%97%D7%99%D7%93-%D7%91%D7%AA%D7%A4%D7%A7%D7%99%D7%93-%D7%A6%D7%99%D7%91%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%99/)
And well known are the words of the Minchat Chinukh about the obligation to give up one's life in war for the land: there are commandments that require self-sacrifice not because of their importance but because that is the only way to fulfill them. War requires sacrifices. Therefore there is no exemption there due to danger to life.

You remarked:
And what is "Baghdadi's followers also think exactly like you," if not a comparison?
Indeed, that is not the comparison I was talking about. I was referring to the comparison you made between the behavior of Islam and Judaism (who murders more and who is more cruel). The comparison regarding the mode of thought is indeed a valid comparison, and I made it. Anyone who accepts some faith without criticism resembles al-Baghdadi in that respect.

moishbb (2017-04-28)

By the way, regarding Ch.M. Rumkowski,
it is very hard to defend the persona—
his hedonistic and ostentatious lifestyle (in ghetto terms, and also in general terms, like a king of the Jews),
his and his close associates',
in contrast to the staggering hunger and the inhuman rationing of the resources of survival.
All his beautiful words about preserving the ghetto and handing over the weak were aimed at one goal only:
preserving the life and quality of life of Rumkowski himself.
He was an opportunist in every sense,
and even if one of his statements was correct,
that would make him no better than a stopped clock.
I would not derive any proof from them for anything.

Regarding self-sacrifice for laws among Noahides (2017-04-28)

Friday eve, Taharot, 5777

To Rabbi M.A.—greetings,

Even regarding a judge, the Rema (Hoshen Mishpat 12:1) brings the words of Mahari"v that in our times they were not accustomed to protest transgressors out of concern that he might inform on them to the authorities. The Shevut Yaakov as well (part 1, no. 143) rules that "certainly, where someone is presumed likely to do so, nothing stands in the way of saving a life."

How much more so in the case of a Noahide who lacks the ability to prevent and save, who is not obligated to place himself in certain danger when the chances of rescue are negligible; it is very hard to impose upon him responsibility and obligation to prevent it, though certainly if he did give his life he would be one of the pious of the nations of the world.

It stands to reason that in a place where a Noahide is required to participate in murder, he must refuse even if he is endangered, for although he is not obligated in sanctifying God's name, the reasoning of "What makes you think your blood is redder?" applies to Noahides as well. But to obligate him in self-sacrifice for prevention, and all the more so for bringing criminals to justice, it seems that the Holy One, blessed be He, does not come with excessive demands upon His creatures regarding what is not in their power.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

Michi (2017-04-28)

As I explained there, I am public. And as I explained here, the public as a whole bears responsibility for what is carried out in its name. When I am murdering, I am under an obligation to prevent it. And likewise when a ruler uses me to do so, responsibility lies on me. And even as a citizen standing by while things are done in his name and by his power.

Interpretation anchored in the texts, their spirit, and a solid tradition (2017-04-30)

With God's help, 4 Iyar 5777

The sages' interpretation of the biblical texts is anchored in a deep understanding of the texts and their spirit, and in a solid tradition. Thus Maimonides explains that the sages had a solid tradition from all the courts standing since the days of Moses that "an eye for an eye" is not carried out literally, but rather the damager is allowed to discharge his obligation through monetary compensation.

The possibility of monetary ransom is mentioned in the Torah even regarding a capital obligation, as it says of one whose goring ox killed a person: "The ox shall surely be stoned, and its owner also shall be put to death; if a ransom be laid upon him, then he shall give for the redemption of his life whatsoever is laid upon him" (Exodus 21:29–30)—all the more so is there room to redeem oneself from bodily punishment. Only in the case of a murderer, whether intentional or accidental, did the Torah forbid taking ransom to exempt him from death or exile.

Even where the Torah established corporal punishments, great care for the honor of the one punished is evident. Even one whom the Torah calls wicked and requires to be beaten according to his wickedness, the Torah warns: "Forty stripes he may give him, he shall not exceed; lest, if he should exceed and beat him beyond these with many stripes, then your brother should be dishonored before your eyes" (Deuteronomy 25:3)—all the more so one must beware of irreversible bodily punishment, where any slight deviation from exact proportionality will result in an eternal "your brother should be dishonored." It is therefore clear that using the option of redemption is necessary.

Even for the gravest offenses, the Torah required extremely restrictive rules of evidence. There is no circumstantial evidence: "By the mouth of two witnesses or three witnesses shall a matter be established," and even with witnesses one must "inquire well." There is also a distinction between intentional and unintentional, in the latter case of which "the congregation shall save" him. In the case of the stubborn and rebellious son, the Torah explicitly imposed a condition that neutralizes the law, by requiring the unrealistic demand that "his father and his mother shall seize him." A mother's agreement to the killing of her son is patently unreasonable: "Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?"

Even regarding the nations of the world, the Torah preserves the balance between the need to defend and deter and the need to preserve the moral character of the people of Israel. Of the Egyptians, who enslaved Israel harshly and threw their children into the Nile, the Torah commands: "You shall not abhor an Egyptian, because you were a stranger in his land" (Deuteronomy 23:8). Even the people of Shechem, under whose protection the son of their prince committed an outrage against Jacob's daughter, are given an opening for repair through circumcision of their foreskin, and Jacob is very angry with his sons for violating the agreement with the men of Shechem.

Even with regard to the seven Canaanite nations, where the Torah departs from its general laws of war and commands, "You shall not let any soul remain alive," a reason is given: "lest they cause you to sin." And from that very reason the possibility of amendment is already implied. For the severe treatment of them is due to their being the height of idolatry and the moral corruption that accompanies it, "like the practice of the land of Canaan"; therefore, when they decide to abandon the ideology of evil and accept upon themselves the principles of basic faith and morality, the seven Noahide commandments, they have left the category of "lest they cause you to sin."

Even regarding Amalek, it is explained in Samuel's words to Saul: "And the Lord sent you on a journey and said, Go and utterly destroy the sinners, Amalek" (1 Samuel 15:18). This implies that if they shake off the ideology of evil and hatred held by their ancestors and leave the category of "sinners," the obligation to ban and annihilate them expires, as Maimonides rules that if they accept upon themselves the seven Noahide commandments, they are not killed under the law of Amalek.

Regarding conversion to become like Israel, it is said in the Mekhilta that converts are not accepted from Amalek, but in the Gemara (Sanhedrin 97) it is mentioned that "descendants of Haman taught Torah to schoolchildren, namely Rav Shmuel bar Shilat" (thus reads R.A. Heyman, author of Toldot Tannaim VeAmoraim). Even the worst enemies of Israel have a chance for repair. Just as Ruth, the great-grandmother of David, came from Moab—so the sages transmit that from Sennacherib came Shemaya and Avtalyon, from Sisera—Rabbi Akiva, and from Haman—the great teacher who gave his life for the education of the children of Israel, Rav Shmuel bar Shilat. The powerful energies that the grandfathers invested in destruction—their grandchildren use for repair.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

gil (2017-04-30)

Thank you for the reply. I would be glad to understand more precisely in what respect I was mistaken. If I understood correctly, then you accept the Written Torah as having been given mostly at Sinai because that is the position of the tradition, whereas the Oral Torah—even the tradition itself does not think we historically received it from Sinai; rather, normatively we are obligated to observe it—and for that reason you think it should be observed so long as it does not flatly contradict reason. That is how I now understood your words. If so, we should discuss the first part—why tradition is something binding. Fair enough when it is supported by external reinforcement—such as the tradition that there was a revelation in which God conveyed His will—which also fits the reasoning that proves there is a God who created the world for a purpose not contained within it (as you explained in the Fifth Notebook). Here we have two intersecting reasons leading to the same conclusion—that it is reasonable that the God who created the world for a purpose would reveal Himself and indeed express His will in His world. That is indeed what He did in the Sinai revelation and the Ten Commandments. But how do we know to go further and claim that the whole tradition, or even most of it, is correct? It is simpler to claim that the hard core is true, while the rest was added over the generations (without, heaven forbid, claiming that Moses forged anything, and the like), both at the level of the Written Torah and that of the Oral Torah. That is, that the laws of the Torah were also written by the sages of the First Temple period by virtue of their understanding and development of the traditions they had received from Sinai.

Jacob Milgrom, the Bible scholar, wrote: "Instead of understanding the statement 'And the Lord spoke to Moses' as the claim that the laws that follow were actually spoken by Moses, one can understand the Torah as signaling that their guiding principles are Moses' principles and that they originated from him. Talmudic writing took a similar path. Thousands of years after the close of the Bible, the Talmudic sages continued to explain the source of a new law by saying it was 'a law to Moses from Sinai.' And if Hazal believed that some of their laws were rooted in Moses' words, then all the more so the anonymous compilers of the Torah's laws, who engaged in their work a thousand years earlier, believed this." The claim "And the Lord spoke to Moses" expresses their complete confidence that the laws they proposed were not the fruit of their own spirit, but arose from Moses' principles, and from this it follows that they are connected to the Torah's foundational values" (Leviticus, the Ritual and Moral Book, Bialik Institute, p. 3; see there further).

Even those who think the Oral Torah developed over generations are aware of the extreme views that everything was given to Moses at Sinai, and that its details are from Sinai, etc., just as every ordinary religious person thinks from kindergarten onward. Yet they explain this as hyperbole, as a normative statement, and so forth. What is the problem with saying the same thing about the Written Torah? After all, if we can say that later verses were added (like the Hasidei Ashkenaz), then who decides how many and by whom? And if Hazal said that Moses added eight verses on his own initiative—then what difference is there between eight and eight hundred? I understand that this claim is unacceptable to you not by force of reason (because logical reasoning, seemingly, would not distinguish between the Oral and Written Torah and would say that in both the same processes of development and internal disputes operated as in any other human text) but by force of the tradition that says Moses received the Written Torah at Sinai. I do not understand why this tradition is more authoritative than the opinions that the entire Oral Torah is likewise from Sinai. For in the Written Torah itself, as I wrote, it is never said that Moses wrote it. (And even if it were written, that would not be a stronger tradition than any other midrash.) Or perhaps simply because Hazal said that Moses wrote the Written Torah and this is an uncontested opinion.

And regarding what you concluded with—the reason that even against the Torah, when it conflicts with your absolute reason, you would set it aside, because "I did not say I would observe every command of the Written Torah without question. I wrote here the opposite, if only because there is no command that is clearly known to have come from the Almighty in all its details and interpretations." I would ask to understand this in a test case: what would you do, say, as a judge in the First Temple period, if a Torah case came before you involving a miserable woman who sought to save her beaten husband by grabbing the attacker's private parts? Then you read the law in the Torah (before the obvious change Hazal made to it, a much more radical change than their interpretation of 'an eye for an eye,' and therefore, if I am not mistaken, Maimonides specifically brought this law to explain the power of the Oral Torah—I've forgotten where)—and there it explicitly says to punish her by cutting off her hand: "your eye shall not pity"!! Yet you do pity her; you understand that she is the one in the right in the whole story and not the criminal she injured. Would you let her off and commute the punishment to money—as Hazal did—even though it is clear that the Torah came precisely to prevent such an interpretation? (Perhaps you would let her off because you would interpret that the severe punishment applies only where he was injured in his fertility, by analogy to the case of two men who caused a woman to miscarry, or because of the juxtaposition to blotting out Amalek and the commandment of levirate marriage, both dealing with the destruction of seed, and just as in the parallel Assyrian law… Then you would say that the Torah is very severe concerning the destruction of a person's fertility—"He that is wounded in the stones or has his privy member cut off shall not enter the congregation of the Lord"—and for that one should impose a shocking punishment so that all may hear and fear. But in any case where the man was not injured in his fertility, certainly, certainly one would not punish the woman who acted properly and used the only means in her power to save her husband. If so, I continue and ask: what would you do if in this case he really was injured in his capacity to procreate? Would you cut off her hand even though this contradicts morality just as much as not saving a gentile on Shabbat? Or perhaps it does not contradict it so much?

It depends whom you ask—an objective eye will say that this is an immoral law. A Torah eye, however, will find many justifications as to why in the long term it does not contradict morality. But such a reading can be made for every immoral commandment. Also for wiping out Amalek. Also for killing the children and infants of the Canaanite nations (where R. Yehuda HeHasid explained that the infants are killed because strategically, if we do not kill them, they will avenge the death of their parents when they grow up).

P.S. I note here for the reader that apparently the way you understand the relationship between the Written and Oral Torahs is the reverse of Leibowitz's, who held that we obey the Written Torah only because Hazal in the Oral Torah decided to include the Written Torah as part of the holy writings, and enough said. (There is no accusation implied in this statement, heaven forbid…)

Thank you

'You shall cut off' literally—for rescue (to Gil) (2017-05-01)

With God's help, 5 Iyar 5777

To Gil—Gil-ad,

From "then you shall cut off her hand," Hazal learned in the Sifrei the law of saving one who is pursued by injuring the pursuer—if possible in one of his limbs, and if not, by taking his life. Thus Maimonides writes: "…as it is said: 'then you shall cut off her hand; your eye shall not pity'—whether his private parts or anything else involving mortal danger, whether the man has seized the woman. The meaning of the verse is that anyone who intends to strike his fellow with a blow that would kill him—one saves the pursued person by the hand of the pursuer. And if they cannot, one saves him even at the cost of the pursuer's life, as it is said: 'your eye shall not pity.' This is a positive commandment not to pity the life of the pursuer" (Laws of Murder and Preservation of Life 1:7–8).

Hazal did not regard cutting off the hand as an immoral punishment. Regarding someone accustomed to beating his fellow, Rav Huna learns the verse "the raised arm shall be broken" literally and orders "cut off his hand" for a violent person (Sanhedrin 58b), and Maharam of Rothenburg (followed by the Rema) learns from here how one should deter a husband who beats his wife. But amputation of a limb for a one-time sin is certainly not the way of Torah law, which comes to repair and not destroy.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

The difference between Torah law and gentile law is also seen in the law of the burglar tunneling in: according to gentile law, the burglar who comes through a tunnel is executed at the mouth of the tunnel, whereas according to Torah law, killing the burglar is done for the purpose of saving the pursued person and not as a punishment. The nations of the world thought that crime prevention comes through shocking punishments that deter the sinner, whereas the Torah of kindness invested in prevention and education, in creating a society in which "robberies and injuries are uncommon."

And regarding Canaan and Amalek (2017-05-01)

And regarding the peoples of Canaan, I already mentioned above that the Torah's words make clear the reason for the exceptional severity (departing from the Torah's own rules of the morality of war), namely, "lest they cause you to sin," from which the possibility of repair follows when they accept upon themselves the Noahide commandments and abandon the path of idolatry and moral corruption. Even regarding Amalek, Samuel defines the commandment: "Go and utterly destroy the sinners, Amalek." From this definition it follows that if they abandoned "the path of sinners" and accepted the Noahide commandments—they should be accepted, just as God accepted Cain and the people of Nineveh when they turned from their evil way.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

Nadav (2017-05-03)

I am not religious, I did not study in religious schools, and only by chance (which is called a post by Gadi Taub) did I happily arrive at this fascinating article. I will note only three comments:
— I think that under no circumstances should any soldier or any citizen be absolved of responsibility for not preventing crimes. An ordinary soldier is not supposed to be stupid; he may be wiser and better educated than his commanders, and perhaps will later become a commander himself. There are other mitigating circumstances, such as intelligence level, mental state, and the like, but not rank. Clearly the degree of responsibility differs between soldier and commander, but there is no exemption. For this reason, Elor Azaria cannot be absolved of responsibility; he is responsible for what he did, and even without having received an order. It is quite likely that precisely the spirit of the home in which he grew up influenced his act, and for that reason his responsibility and even his guilt increase and also extend to his home and to everyone who influenced him.
— The distinction between responsibility and guilt is not clear to me. A person can bear responsibility for positive or negative phenomena. The case of responsibility for a negative phenomenon is called guilt. I assume the rabbi meant to distinguish between secondary responsibility and the responsibility at the root of the matter (the illegal order is the root of the matter; its execution by the commander is secondary responsibility).
— One must be careful not to give a seal of approval to insubordination in cases that are not a completely clear black-flag case. Suppose it is clear to me that military plan A, which I have been ordered to carry out, is less good than military plan B. Am I permitted to act according to plan B? An example from World War II: the British broke German encryption, and Churchill thus knew that the Germans were about to bomb the city of Coventry. He decided, rightly, not to evacuate it, so that the Germans would not infer that their encryption had been broken. If a local commander in Coventry had heard that his city was about to be bombed and that headquarters insisted on not evacuating it, he might have decided this was a mistake and would have "saved the situation," thereby causing enormous damage to the war against the Nazis and greater losses later in the war.

Michi (2017-05-04)

Hello Nadav.

First, which post by Gadi Taub did you mean? Does he refer to this article?

As for your points themselves: I do not agree with the identification you made between responsibility and guilt, and it seems to me that this was explained well in my remarks. An action that any reasonable person would do cannot be considered an action for which I am guilty. And yet I argue that I still bear responsibility even in such a case. I gave in my remarks the example of a small child or a deranged person, who has no criminal responsibility and no judgment, taking a rifle in hand and starting to shoot in all directions. Is one allowed to kill him in order to prevent the next murder? Certainly yes. Is he guilty? A person who has no criminal or legal responsibility cannot be guilty. There you have the difference between guilt and responsibility.

I did not give a seal of approval to insubordination in ordinary situations, but only where in the refuser's eyes a red line has been crossed. The examples you gave prove nothing, since they show that a person may cause damage by refusing and may also be mistaken in his decision. All this is obvious, and still one cannot absolve a person of responsibility, and therefore he must consider refusal even if in the end it turns out he was mistaken. We can all be mistaken, and therefore examples in which people were mistaken or could have been mistaken are of no significance. That is completely clear. The argument in favor of refusal is not based on the claim that we are never wrong. The argument is that the damage of excessive obedience (even if in a particular case it brings the correct results) is heavier.

And the proven remedy: awareness of the weight of responsibility in deciding matters of life and death (2017-05-04)

And the proven guarantee against being swept into immoral acts in the name of the Torah is precisely refraining from personal interpretation in matters that are in the category of capital law. One must know that these are not "light commandments," where sometimes there is room to rely on a minority opinion.

Capital cases are among the matters that require a Sanhedrin, and even in a reality where there is no Sanhedrin, one should aspire to a ruling by the very greatest sages, before whom the treasures of the Torah are spread out, together with the experience and life wisdom of many decades, aspiring to arrive at "the path agreed upon by the majority of decisors," and "deliverance lies in many counselors."

Regards, S.Z. Levinger.

Or P (2017-05-04)

Hi Michi, there is something I didn't manage to understand. Maimonides, in the introduction to his commentary on the Mishnah, writes, if I understood correctly, that there were commandments such as those appearing in the Written Torah and others that do not appear there… and from them came commands considered Torah law, since they are their roots, which are interpreted through the hermeneutical principles by which the Torah is expounded, as well as fences for them that the sages brought by God's command.
Is that your view as well?

Michi (2017-05-04)

Hello Or.
I didn't understand what is written here. There were commandments from which commands emerged that are considered de'oraita? Their roots are explained through the hermeneutical principles by which the Torah is expounded? Fences that the sages instituted (!) by command? Please write more fully and clearly.

Nadav (2017-05-04)

This is the link to Gadi Taub
https://www.facebook.com/saved?collection_token=805842901%3A586254444758776%3A92

Regarding responsibility versus guilt: the way you used these words was clear; my question was whether the terminology you ascribed to them is your own private one or the one accepted in religious discourse. In terms of the terminology as I understand it, of an insane person or a minor one says that he is not responsible for his actions—that is, he is not guilty because he does not bear responsibility. In any event, this is only an issue in Hebrew. The idea you wished to present was very clear.

I did not disagree with the basic idea of refusal when red lines are crossed. My claim is that what is visible does not always contain all the information, and therefore you cannot refuse unless this is a simple case where the probability of missing information is negligible.

Unclear distinction between 'responsibility' and 'guilt' (to Rabbi M.A.) (2017-05-04)

With God's help, 8 Iyar 5777

If a minor lacks understanding, then he cannot have responsibility. And where there is an opinion in the Gemara that a pursuing minor is killed, one may say that this is not because of the pursuer's responsibility but because of saving the pursued.

And perhaps it may be said that this refers to a minor who does have understanding, for he has enough understanding to intend to kill; but since his understanding is not complete, he is not judged in court, because capital law requires prior warning testifying to full awareness of the gravity of the act, and a minor is in a state of diminished responsibility like an intentional sinner who was not warned. Yet in any case he is intentional, and he has sufficient responsibility that he may be stopped even by taking his life at the time of the act, for he knows he is doing something bad. This also seems implied by the Gemara's wording: "learn from this that a pursuer does not require prior warning"—that a minor is considered only like one who was not warned and not as lacking understanding. This requires further inquiry.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

Michi (2017-05-04)

S.Z.L., I explained the difference well. The fact that one kills the pursuing minor in order to save the pursued still requires explanation. In what way is the pursued preferable to the pursuer? Is the blood of the pursued redder? You must conclude that the pursuer bears responsibility. It is a responsibility imposed on him to resolve the situation that he created. Therefore he is killed.

And it certainly is not speaking of a minor who has understanding. After all, even a fetus has the status of a pursuer (were it not that "Heaven is pursuing him"). A pursuing minor who is completely without understanding still has a death sentence applied to him.

Oren (2017-05-09)

The Mishnah in Horayot opens as follows:
"If the court ruled to transgress one of all the commandments stated in the Torah, and an individual went and acted inadvertently on their ruling—whether they acted and he acted with them, whether they acted and he acted after them, or whether they did not act and he acted—the individual is exempt, because he relied upon the court."
Would it be correct to extend this principle also to a citizen who commits wrongs in accordance with his government? (Assuming the government is a moral one in that citizen's view.)

Michi (2017-05-09)

A look at the Gemara there will show you that even regarding a court this is not a simple law (see there in the rule, "he erred regarding the commandment to heed the words of the sages"). But in a moral context (as opposed to halakhah) the matter is accessible to every person and to his own judgment, and therefore the responsibility is his. The fact that he assumes the government is moral does not replace his own judgment. There may be a situation in which the facts are unknown to him and he assumes the government is acting lawfully. It seems to me that this does indeed exempt him.

Oren (2017-05-09)

Why is the matter not accessible in the halakhic context? After all, if someone who is qualified to issue rulings acted according to the court, his law is different from one who is not qualified to issue rulings. Seemingly everyone can study Torah and reach the point of being qualified to issue rulings, only it is difficult. Therefore it seems right to say that the average person is incapable of deciding certain matters because of the high level of complexity, and therefore he delegates the responsibility of the decision to someone he thinks is qualified for it, and thus the responsibility should leave him (also in the moral context).

Michi (2017-05-09)

Everyone can also study medicine, and still, so long as they have not studied it, it is reasonable to rely on an expert. So too in halakhah, which is a professional field that requires study. But morality need not be studied. Everyone has a moral intuition, and therefore he is responsible for his actions himself. Perhaps this does not apply in especially complex issues. In any case, if it is an act that he himself understands to be immoral, it does not seem to me that relying on the government will exempt him from responsibility.

There are endless moral disputes (to Rabbi M.A.) (2017-05-09)

With God's help, 14 Iyar 5777

The disputes—because of differing moral considerations (2017-05-09)

Precisely because everyone has a "moral intuition," disputes are many. The reason for this, in my humble opinion, is that in every moral question there are conflicting considerations, both of which are right, and the decision between them can only determine who is more right. Who says that the individual's personal decision is preferable to the decision of the public, behind which a moral judgment also stands?

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

Michi (2017-05-10)

No one said I am necessarily right, but responsibility for my actions rests only on me. That is the gist of what I am saying here in this post.
Beyond that, of course when there are moral nuances this way or that, no one imposes responsibility on a person if he erred. We are speaking of someone who commits a clearly immoral act. Such a person cannot remove responsibility from himself by claiming that he trusted the government and therefore did the act.

bibi (2017-05-15)

I went over the post,

There is vagueness here, or deliberate evasion, while the principle of personal responsibility is simple and self-evident (even without lessons from the Holocaust..)
The central question is precisely the limits within which one society may enforce its law on another society with a different scale of values, and in today's reality whether one may judge in Europe an Iranian judge who sentences homosexuals to death??
I think the answer would be negative (under certain conditions). The comparison to ISIS is, of course, bizarre and absurd demagoguery,

I am surprised that you did not choose to deal honestly with the point of whether, in your view, there is any place for corporal punishments in general and religious ones in particular, in cases where the majority of society chose and agreed to them. This question has no connection to Holocaust lessons or to ISIS.

Michi (2017-05-15)

After being accused of deliberate evasion (?), dishonesty, demagoguery (of course!), and absurd, irrelevant comparisons, I take comfort in the fact that at least I am not guilty of the murder of Arlosoroff. That's something too.
All that remains for you is to explain your question, and then perhaps I will try to address it (in a demagogic, irrelevant, evasive manner, of course).

bibi (2017-05-17)

First, the response was written as a continuation of a dialogue between friends about the post and was not intended to be sent in its present wording and content,

As to the substance, the remark referred of course to the application of personal responsibility to religious law in light of the lessons of the Holocaust (or the Nuremberg trials) and the horrors of ISIS, where it is clear that the significant aspect of this, by contrast, is the corporal punishments that exist in Jewish halakhah (we do not really use blood for matzahs).
But regarding this, the Nuremberg trials or future ISIS trials have no significance at all, because a society that accepts religious laws upon itself will be able to implement them, even to the displeasure of another society (the Western one, for example), and even if indeed the responsibility for this rests on its shoulders, this is only a responsibility between man and himself—and God,
and one society will not be able to judge a society of a different culture, just as according to that same responsibility one cannot accuse an American judge who sentences a murderer to death, or a Filipino who executes a drug dealer, or an Iranian who hangs homosexuals—as opposed to systematic genocide or coercion of laws and punishments against the will of the people.
So if we honestly come to discuss this point of corporal punishments—we will neither be permitted nor helped by conducting a discussion about the Nuremberg trials.
And if you think there is a clash here between halakhah and your general outlook, try to explain how this is reconciled—the solution of a "transgression for its own sake" cannot be a tool for setting a general position on the issue,

As for the murder of Arlosoroff—if Stavsky was accused, perhaps you can be accused too..

Michi (2017-05-17)

Well, as you can understand from my remarks in the article, I disagree with you. One can certainly accuse an Iranian judge in Europe. The question is not the will of the people but the degree of morality of the act. And that is precisely my main point: public consent is no measure of anything when we are dealing with atrocities. As far as I am concerned, let the whole world agree to it—there is not a shred of legitimacy in moral atrocities (at most there may be mitigating circumstances). You are evidently a relativist, and that is the point of disagreement between us. As I explained in my book Truth and Unstable, relativism is nothing but the other side of fundamentalism, and it is no wonder it cannot cope with it.
And one more side note: my remarks are really not specifically about corporal punishment. I have no idea where you got that from.
And indeed, if you accused me of all the above, there is no problem at all accusing Stavsky of Arlosoroff's murder…

bibi (2017-05-17)

I am not a jurist nor an expert in international law, but originally the authority of the international court according to the Hague and Rome conventions contains, to my understanding, no clause allowing such a prosecution,
It is evident that clauses were drafted dealing with "absolute" horrors—genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity—which are interpreted as applying to systematic oppression; but even according to your view, there is probably some threshold that determines the possibility of international intervention (is executing drug dealers also justiciable?)
In any event, this is not the heart of the disagreement. You claim, rightly, that public consent is not a criterion—but the Nuremberg trials too are only public consent! And if a handful of jurists had then decided that one could not prosecute, would the absolute moral atrocities have vanished?
And even if judicial powers are expanded, the decision of officials or jurists in itself cannot ground a moral determination (even if they have the power to enforce it). It is therefore clear that my recognition requires absolute moral values, but what difference would it make if someone or some group decided that one may or may not judge by them?? What lesson is learned from that? And how does that help guide me regarding a conflict between faith and that recognition?
Therefore, when we discuss the contradiction between the laws of the Torah that obligate us to certain acts and the general values that forbid such acts, the discussion should be about how to reconcile the paradox and how we apply the full set of values—not about the question or assumption of what some officials and jurists somewhere decided or will decide.
At the moment it seems that the substantive discussion boils down to that famous joke about two litigants who came before the rabbi, and to each one the rabbi said he was right. When the sexton asked, "How can that be?" the rabbi answered, "You are also right"… And we too accept the Torah as a Torah of truth and the general values as true as well, and the question asked—can that be?—is of course also a real one.
True, you did not write explicitly that the practical issue under discussion is corporal punishment, but it seems to me that this is the white elephant in the background, being the main, and perhaps only, basis for the aforesaid conflict.
My "diagnosis" as a relativist was rather hasty, and I am considering an appeal…. As for my "accusing" you,
I will expand on what I wrote at the beginning of the previous message: the first message was written as a continuation of an oral argument—and addressed to the person I was arguing with. It was touched up and converted into a response to the article not with the author in mind.
If the message helped clarify the matter, all the better, and if not, I will be content simply with the agreement we have already reached about Stavsky's "guilt"

But apparently we have joined the propaganda against Arlosoroff (2017-05-18)

With God's help, 22 Iyar 5777

After accepting Rabbi M.A.'s view and determining that a person is obligated to take responsibility for preventing state crimes—we thereby determine that everyone was obligated to participate in and strengthen the economic boycott imposed on Nazi Germany because of its persecution of the Jews,

By this we determine that Arlosoroff did not act properly when he reached an arrangement with Nazi Germany under which the property of the Jews who fled Germany would be transferred by means of goods exported from Germany. Thus Arlosoroff indeed saved Jewish property, but harmed the boycott that was intended to change Germany's policy. In effect, we have thereby joined Ahimeir's claims against Arlosoroff.

As for the murder itself, we cannot be accused, because it is quite possible that it was carried out for criminal motives, unrelated to Ahimeir's accusations, although they were stated very bluntly.

As for myself, I prefer to remain of the opinion that it is not clear how far a person is obligated to act against state actions that he can all but certainly not change, and that there is much to be said for Arlosoroff's claim that it was preferable to bring about the certain rescue of the refugees' property, even at the cost of harming the economic boycott of Germany, whose chances of preventing anything were highly doubtful.

Regards, S.Z. Levinger

Michi (2017-05-18)

S.Z.L., it seems to me that here records have been broken for the number of errors per sentence/word in a message on the site. Accept my congratulations.

Errors? (2017-05-18)

See Wikipedia, entry "Haavara Agreement," and the links there

Regards, S.Z.L.

Hezi (2019-08-21)

Thank you for the wonderful article
The intriguing thing that remains from the article is the identity of that autonomous rabbi from Bnei Brak—perhaps, if you would be so kind, reveal his name to us?

Michi (2019-08-21)

I don't know whether he is interested in having his name publicized.

Avi (2019-12-12)

May I make one guess?
R. Berl…
It seems to me that "things he says there, he does not think here…"

Avi (2019-12-12)

Since "perhaps" he is not interested in his name being publicized… if possible, of course, could you confirm it for me by email. Then the publicity will be only for his household…

'Avi' or 'Hezi'? (2019-12-12)

To Rabbi M.A.—greetings,

I am curious whether "Avi" is "Hezi" and what his full name is?
Since "perhaps" he does not want his name publicized—I would be grateful if Your Honor would confirm for me by email the full name of "Avi" and/or "Hezi."

With the blessing, "May this house be, as in the prophecy of Avi the Seer,"
S. Keren, the prying librarian, the nose-poker, sticking his nose in here and there 🙂

And in the words of Hillel the Elder and Kant (2019-12-12)

As Hillel said: "What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow." Kant called this "the categorical imperative"…

Shalom (2019-12-30)

A fascinating post. I too am curious about the identity of the autonomous Haredi rabbi. If at all possible…

A (2024-10-28)

The rabbi wrote in note 2 that there is a view among the Rishonim that even if he transgressed (chose) the severe sin, he is still considered coerced. I would be glad if the rabbi could explain that view to me.

Michi (2024-10-28)

What's the problem? If he is required to give up his life, then he is coerced, even if halakhah obligates him to do so. Therefore, in such a state one imposes responsibility on him but not guilt.

A (2024-10-28)

I am speaking about a case where no responsibility is imposed on him at all.
In the case where they force him either to die or to commit a sin (one of the three cardinal ones), the Torah obligates him to die, but he chose to commit the sin and live.
Now, there are those who hold (the Hemdat Shlomo, Orah Hayyim siman 17, I think, regarding Tosafot in Sanhedrin 74b) that even if he transgressed, although he committed a sin that incurs death, we do not impose any death penalty on him at all, and I wanted to know why. After all, in the end he chose to commit the sin, so why is he considered coerced (he could have chosen not to commit the sin and to die)? (I thought this was what the rabbi also wrote in parentheses; even if not, I would be glad for an answer).

Michi (2024-10-28)

I don't know what there is to add. I can only repeat myself again. The question of guilt and the question of responsibility are different questions. If he acts under threat to his life, he is coerced. Even though he violated the Torah's instruction, which commanded him to disregard the coercion. What is unclear here? The claim is that one cannot punish a person who acted under threat to his life, and nevertheless one can demand that he overcome it and still not do so, and give up his life.

Michi (2024-10-28)

By the way, this is explicit in Maimonides, Laws of the Foundations of the Torah. There is no need to reach for later authorities such as these.

A (2024-10-29)

I have no interest in your repeating yourself; I have an interest in our talking about the same thing. If you feel you are repeating yourself, there is no point in answering.
You wrote that a person acting under threat to his life is coerced, and also that one cannot punish a person who acted under threat to his life.
That is exactly my question (not about the distinctions between guilt and responsibility): what is different between a death threat and a non-death threat (either murder or bring me 100 shekels—if he murders, we impose guilt on him too, and therefore punish him after he murders, unlike a person on whom there is only responsibility, where he did a severe act he should not have done in the first place, but we will not punish him afterward))
Tosafot in Sanhedrin 74b say that it is logical that a person is not obligated to choose death (and therefore it follows that if he transgressed the command of "be killed rather than transgress," we will not punish him—though he did desecrate God's name) (it is still "be killed rather than transgress" because there is still a severe act here that he is doing), and therefore I asked: what is the logic? Why is he not obligated to give up his life, whereas his money he is obligated to give up? (Is it because he is obligated to live, or because somehow dying is not an option, or something else?)

Michi (2024-10-29)

What is the question? Is even a threat that I dance before you and you have to endure it also coercion? Do you yourself not understand the difference between coercion involving money and coercion involving life? (Regarding money, this is a tannaitic dispute in Ketubot.)
I really cannot understand what the discussion here is.

A (2024-10-29)

Exactly—why is the option of death not an option? Because it is such a difficult choice? Because his life is worth more than a commandment?
Why, after he chose not to die and he had the possibility of choosing otherwise (even if they would not obligate him to die, the very fact that there are two possibilities and the Torah simply says which is the correct option), do we say he is coerced? Regarding the first choice he is not coerced; he could have chosen to die.

Michi (2024-10-29)

He could have, but a reasonable person does not do that. It seems to me that you are just being stubborn. This is completely understandable.

A (2024-10-30)

It is a bit hard for me that they do not look at what the case really is and what is proper to do, and accordingly define a case as coercion. Does a reasonable person give up all his money for a commandment (especially when it is as dear to him as his own body)? I do not care that it is hard for him; that does not make him coerced (Rema Orah Hayyim 656:1; Yoreh De'ah 157:1). Maybe I am being stubborn, but only because it is not clear to me.
In any case, thank you for your time.

Michi (2024-10-30)

A person does not give up all his money voluntarily; he is required to give it up. What is the novelty? In the three cardinal sins too he is required to give up his life. And nevertheless he is considered coerced if he transgressed.

A (2024-10-30)

My mistake. I want to ask about "being healed by them": if it depends on what a reasonable person would do (and therefore he is considered coerced if he transgressed), then why does it have to come in the form of external coercion (that others force him)? After all, even if he is about to die from illness (and the cure is asherah wood/another sin), there is no chance he would simply choose to die. (The question is based on the assumption that a person who is healed through idolatry is punished afterward; I do not remember where that is written.)

Michi (2024-10-30)

Indeed, that is also true regarding healing. You are referring to Maimonides' distinction in chapter 5 of Laws of the Foundations of the Torah, halakhah 6 (which also appears in one of the early responsa in the Tashbetz). That requires other distinctions, and this is not the place. You can search here for a written lesson of mine on the issue (I think among the lessons on Pesahim).

A (2024-10-30)

Thank you.

A (2026-03-08)

Hello Rabbi, something is unclear to me. After all, you yourself made the distinction between morality and halakhah, so what is the problem if it is not moral?
If you say it is because there is no great certainty that it really came from Moses, fair enough, but that is a technical problem.
Accordingly, do you agree that if you had great certainty about it, then yes, you would do it?

Michi (2026-03-08)

What are you speaking about here? You formulate a question as though we have just finished a conversation about something and you are adding another point.

A (2026-03-08)

Regarding what you argued in the column, that when the order/religious command contradicts basic moral values, one should not obey it, and you brought ISIS as an example.

Michi (2026-03-09)

I explained this. If I had certainty that the command came from the Holy One, blessed be He, then there is justification to act according to it (and even that not necessarily; there is a conflict here between halakhah and morality). But in any case this is a hypothetical situation. Not because halakhah cannot contradict morality, but because in order to carry out something immoral one needs great certainty that this is indeed the halakhah, that is, God's will.

A (2026-03-09)

I understand. Do you think this also regarding the commandment of the firstborn donkey in our time? That is, do you think it is proper to break the donkey's neck in a case where there is no halakhic way out? (I recall there was / was supposed to be such a case about two years ago, and the police stopped the organizers.) Because apparently, from what I understand, this is not a light moral price.

Michi (2026-03-09)

That's what you found as an immoral command? Try harder.
I'm done.

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