Lesson 16: Vayigash

From the book Mida Tova: Articles on the Principles of Halakhic Thinking by Rabbi Michael Avraham. Translated from Hebrew using gpt-5.4 (reasoning_effort=high, batch API).

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With God’s help

Concepts

• Morality in halakha (Jewish law)
• Capitalism and socialism in halakha and morality
• The reasons for rabbinic enactments and their validity

Summary

In this article we examine Joseph’s actions in Egypt during the years of famine. At first glance, he seems to engage in price gouging and to worsen the condition of Egypt’s inhabitants, until he compels them to sell their fields and even themselves to Pharaoh.

From there we proceed to the prohibition against price gouging and hoarding produce, as it appears in halakha in the rulings of the halakhic authorities. We find in it two distinct dimensions: a moral-social prohibition, and a halakhic prohibition connected to settling the Land of Israel. Some of the sources are ambiguous in their approach, while others take a clear position on this question.

We discuss the relationship between these two planes, and through that lens examine several possibilities regarding the relationship between halakha and morality in general. Our discussion raises the possibility that moral demands which usually remain outside binding halakha enter into halakha itself in the Land of Israel.

Along the way, we examine the relationship between interpretation of rabbinic enactments and the principle that one does not derive law from the rationale of a biblical text. We discuss the reasons given for enactments, and, accordingly, whether when the rationale for an enactment ceases, the enactment itself also ceases.

The Rules and Principles That Emerge from the Article

• Regarding price gouging and hoarding produce
• A look at the relationship between halakha and morality

Introduction

Our Torah portion describes Joseph’s actions at the beginning of the famine years in Egypt (Genesis 47:13-26). He controls the food storehouses and grain silos collected during the years of plenty, and now the inhabitants of Egypt buy grain from him with money. After the money runs out, they give him their livestock and animals; afterward their land; and finally he buys them themselves as well (see verses 23 and 25).

This description immediately calls to mind questions of price gouging and exploiting famine in order to accumulate wealth. Indeed, Rav Achai, the author of Sheiltot, discusses this subject in Sheiltot 32, which belongs to this Torah portion.

A Primary Source

The Babylonian Talmud, Bava Batra 90b, in the midst of the discussions dealing with commercial overreaching, price gouging, and conduct in the Land of Israel during years of famine (including when it is permitted or forbidden to leave the Land in such a situation), cites the following baraita:

The Sages taught: Those who hoard produce, those who lend with interest, those who reduce the measure, and those who inflate prices—about them Scripture says: “Saying: When will the new moon pass, that we may sell grain, and the Sabbath, that we may open the wheat-stores, making the ephah small and the shekel great, and falsifying deceitful balances” (Amos 8). And it is written: “The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob: Surely I will never forget any of their deeds.”

The baraita learns from the verses in the book of Amos that there are evil acts which God never forgets: lenders with interest (“making the shekel great”), sellers at inflated prices (“when will the new moon pass, that we may sell grain”), those who falsify measures (“making the ephah small”), and those who hoard produce (“and the Sabbath, that we may open the wheat-stores”). Rashbam explains there:

“Those who hoard produce”—those who buy in the market in order to store it and sell it dearly, thereby causing the market price to rise, and there is a loss to the poor. It seems to me that this refers to a city whose majority is Jewish.

From Rashbam’s words it appears that the loss is only to the poor. But at first glance, when produce is sold dearly, everyone loses. This can be explained in two ways:

1. The discussion concerns famine years, in which case only the poor suffer want, since the rich have food in their storehouses.
2. The discussion concerns drought years in which there is in fact no grain, and so everyone is harmed; however, the prohibition applies only with respect to the poor, since the rich have money, and there is nothing wrong with profiting from them in exchange for one’s produce.

Later the Gemara cites as an example of one who hoards produce “Shabtai, the hoarder of produce.” Rashbam explains there:

For example, Shabtai, who hoarded produce in order to sell it dearly to the poor. But if one stored produce when prices were low and sells it cheaply to the poor when prices are high, as stated below, then even though he causes the market price to rise, it is permitted.

This implies that he sold dearly only to the poor. In other words, the case is one in which produce exists and the rich have supplies in their storehouses, so that the high prices affect only the poor. The Gemara also makes clear that the discussion concerns one who buys when prices are low and sells when prices are high—and it seems that this applies even in an ordinary year.¹

Later the Gemara adds another qualification:

Rav said: A person may store up his own produce. It was also taught in a baraita: One may not hoard produce and other things essential for life, such as wines, oils, and fine flour; but spices, cumin, and pepper are permitted. In what case is this said? When one buys from the market. But if one brings in produce from his own holdings, it is permitted.

If so, the prohibition against hoarding produce applies only to merchants who buy produce in order to sell it later at a high price. But the growers themselves are permitted to hoard produce in order to sell it dearly.² Later the Gemara states that it is permitted to store produce around the sabbatical year for fear that one may otherwise have nothing to eat. After that, the Gemara adds:

And in years of drought, one may not hoard even a kav of carobs, because he brings a curse into the market.

What is the difference between this case and the earlier one? Apparently, it proves that until this point the Gemara was dealing with ordinary years, as we inferred above, and then the problem of price inflation affects only the poor. Now it is dealing with drought years, and here everyone is harmed.

Between the Land of Israel and the Diaspora

After that the Gemara brings three additional halakhot (see Shulchan Arukh, Hoshen Mishpat 231):

The Sages taught: One may not export from the Land of Israel things essential for life, such as wines, oils, and fine flour. Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira permits wine, because it reduces licentiousness.

The Sages taught: One may not make a profit in the Land of Israel from things essential for life, such as wines, oils, and fine flour.

The Sages taught: One may not leave the Land for the Diaspora unless two se’ah sell for a sela. Rabbi Shimon said: When is this so? When one cannot find produce to buy. But when one can find produce to buy, even if a se’ah sells for a sela, he should not leave. And so Rabbi Shimon ben Yochai would say: Elimelech, Mahlon, and Chilion were leaders of their generation and providers for their generation. Why then were they punished? Because they left the Land for the Diaspora, as it is said: “And the whole town was astir concerning them, and they said: Is this Naomi?” What is the meaning of “Is this Naomi?” Rabbi Yitzhak said: They said, “Do you see what became of Naomi, who left the Land for the Diaspora?”

These laws apply only to the Land of Israel, and apparently they are meant to reinforce and stabilize residence there, so that Jews will not leave it.

But what about the earlier laws? Presumably they apply wherever Jews live, and so Rashbam indeed wrote, in the passage cited above, that the laws of price gouging apply in any city whose majority is Jewish. So too wrote Rosh, Bava Batra, chapter 5, no. 29. This is indeed how Shulchan Arukh rules (Hoshen Mishpat 231:25), as does Maimonides (Mishneh Torah, Laws of Sale 14:6):

It is permitted to store produce for three years: before the sabbatical year, during the sabbatical year, and after the sabbatical year. But in years of drought one may not hoard even a kav of carobs, because he brings a curse into the market. And anyone who inflates prices or hoards produce in the Land, or in a place whose majority is Jewish, is like one who lends with interest.

One should note, however, that Shulchan Arukh and Maimonides mention the prohibition in the Land of Israel separately and explicitly. At first glance this is puzzling, for the law applies anywhere a Jewish majority lives, as Rashbam wrote. It seems from their words that in the Land of Israel there is a special prohibition against doing this, even if there is no Jewish majority there; so too wrote the Netziv in Ha’amek She’elah, section 6. The reason is apparently concern for the inhabitants of the Land, and perhaps even the desire to prevent them from leaving for the Diaspora. This understanding connects these laws to the later laws in the Gemara, which, as we saw, apply only in the Land of Israel.

A source for this can be found in the Tosefta (Zuckermandel edition), Avodah Zarah 4:1:

One may not hoard in the Land of Israel things essential for life, such as wines, oils, fine flour, and produce. But things that are not essential for life, such as cumin and spices, are permitted. And one may store up for three years—before the sabbatical year, during the sabbatical year, and after the sabbatical year. In what case is this said? When one buys from the market. But if one gathers from his own produce, it is permitted to store even for ten years. In a year of drought one may not store even a kav of carobs, because he brings a curse into the market. One may not profit from grain, but one may profit from wine, oil, and legumes. They said of Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah that he profited from wine and oil all his days.

Are There Two Distinct Laws Here?

From the wording of the Tosefta it appears that the prohibition against hoarding produce applies only in the Land of Israel; so too the Rif cites it there in Bava Batra. At first glance, the law is thus interpreted in an entirely different way: it is not a moral-social law, forbidding price gouging and profit at the expense of the weak, but a law connected with settling the Land of Israel. According to this, Maimonides and Shulchan Arukh apparently see two laws here: both a moral-social law and a law grounded in settling the Land of Israel.³ The Netziv, in the passage cited above, learns this way even in the view of Sheiltot.

However, the Netziv in Ha’amek She’elah (there, section 6) offers another explanation, more metaphysical in character: in the Diaspora, if there is a gentile majority, Jews are economically drawn after the gentiles; but in the Land of Israel, “Israel in its own place is primary.” It appears that he means that Jews have a different intrinsic weight in the Land of Israel, and therefore they are not drawn after the nations there. In his view, then, this is not a matter of two distinct laws of different character, but one law of moral concern for society. The difference between the Land of Israel and the Diaspora concerns only who determines the overall status: in the Diaspora, the majority; in the Land of Israel, the more significant element.⁴

He then cites the ruling of Shulchan Arukh (Hoshen Mishpat 409) regarding the prohibition against raising small livestock in the Land of Israel, namely that in our time—that is, the sixteenth century—when it is not common for Jews to own fields in the Land of Israel, this prohibition does not apply. In light of his earlier remarks, the Netziv argues that Shulchan Arukh means that Jews in fact have no fields at all in the Land of Israel, but if they had even a few fields, the prohibition would certainly still apply today.

In our view, there is no need for this forced reading. The law of hoarding produce applies in the Land of Israel because of settling the Land, and therefore it applies even where Jews are a minority. But there is no general principle that Jews in the Land of Israel are always considered the majority. It is therefore possible that regarding the raising of small livestock, the law is determined by the identity of the majority of the inhabitants.

The Netziv there cites Rashi, who wrote regarding the prohibition on raising small livestock in the Land of Israel (Babylonian Talmud, Bava Kamma 79b): “and all the fields of the Land of Israel belong to Jews.” This implies that even if a minority of the fields belong to gentiles, the prohibition still applies. But Kaftor va-Ferach cites Rashi with a different wording: “and all the fields of the Land of Israel are Jewish,” meaning that this is a legal rule, not an empirical assessment. That rule can stem either from the Netziv’s understanding—that Jews in the Land of Israel are the more significant element—or from our suggestion, that concern exists even for a minority because of settling the Land of Israel.

Ambiguity in the Biblical Source

From the prophetic context, it would seem that the basis of the prohibition discussed here is moral-social: harming the poor and needy and cheating in measures and weights, not a technical prohibition grounded in settling the Land of Israel. Indeed, anyone who looks at the Tosefta we cited above will see that, unlike the Gemara in Bava Batra, it does not at all cite the book of Amos as the source of the prohibition. It is possible that the Tosefta really understands the prohibition against hoarding produce as a law of settling the Land of Israel rather than a moral-social prohibition, and therefore it cannot derive it from Amos.

But a further examination raises the possibility of interpreting the source in Amos as relating to settlement of the Land as well. To see this, let us now quote the entire chapter (Amos 8):

Thus the Lord God showed me, and behold, a basket of summer fruit. And He said: “What do you see, Amos?” And I said: “A basket of summer fruit.” Then the Lord said to me: “The end has come upon My people Israel; I will not again pass them by. The songs of the palace shall become wailings on that day,” says the Lord God. “Many shall be the corpses; in every place they shall cast them out in silence.”

Hear this, you who swallow up the needy, and make the poor of the land cease, saying: “When will the new moon pass, that we may sell grain, and the Sabbath, that we may open the wheat-stores, making the ephah small and the shekel great, and falsifying deceitful balances; so that we may buy the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals, and sell the refuse of the wheat?” The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob: “Surely I will never forget any of their deeds. Shall not the land tremble for this, and every inhabitant in it mourn? It shall rise up wholly like the Nile, and be driven and sink like the Nile of Egypt.”

“And it shall be on that day,” says the Lord God, “that I will make the sun go down at noon and darken the land in broad daylight. I will turn your festivals into mourning and all your songs into lamentation. I will bring sackcloth on every waist and baldness on every head. I will make it like the mourning for an only son, and its end like a bitter day. Behold, days are coming,” says the Lord God, “when I will send a famine in the land—not a famine for bread nor a thirst for water, but for hearing the words of the Lord. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east they shall roam, seeking the word of the Lord, but they shall not find it. On that day the beautiful maidens and the young men shall faint for thirst. Those who swear by the guilt of Samaria, and say, ‘As your god lives, Dan,’ and ‘As the way of Beer-sheba lives,’ shall fall and never rise again.”

The chapter opens by declaring that the end has come upon the people of Israel. This may be interpreted as punishment for moral injustice. But it may also be understood as the loss of the Land of Israel as a result of their deeds—hoarding produce, lending with interest, cheating in weights, and the like—because such conduct makes settlement of the Land impossible. Indeed, immediately afterward the text refers to place: silence is cast everywhere. The Land of Israel is silent, for its children have gone into exile from upon it. Afterward come all these prohibitions, which at first glance look like moral prohibitions. But immediately afterward the matter is presented as the anger of the land, which sinks like the Nile of Egypt. And when there is a famine in the land for the word of God, instead of the famine in the land that we caused by our deeds, the word of God will not be found, because the land is desolate. The remnants of idolatry from Dan and from Beer-sheba still lie in the land—and nothing more.

There is a double meaning here. On the one hand, “the land” means the world as a whole. On the other hand, there are hints to a more particular meaning, according to which “the land” is the Land of Israel (see Radak on verses 11-12, and Ibn Ezra on verse 12). The Gemara learns it in the first sense, and therefore presents these prohibitions as social-moral prohibitions. The Tosefta, by contrast, presents it in the second sense, and therefore views them as connected to settling the Land of Israel.

The Comparison to the Prohibition of Interest

The baraita compares this prohibition to the prohibition of interest. Professor Haym Soloveitchik, in the introduction to his book Halakha, Economy, and Self-Image,⁵ argues at length that there is no source at all for the claim that the prohibition of interest is a moral prohibition, and he shows there that according to most commentators it is a formal halakhic prohibition. If so, from the baraita’s comparison between this prohibition and the prohibition of hoarding produce, it is clear that God’s oath concerns both prohibitions together. One may therefore perhaps infer that the prohibition against hoarding produce is likewise not a moral prohibition.

The Comparison to Joseph

The verses in Amos describe a situation very similar to the one that prevailed in Egypt, and even the expressions recall Joseph’s deeds: “that we may sell grain,” “we may sell grain,” and “to buy the poor for silver.” The commentators there expand the comparison even further, and it is indeed hard to ignore the parallel to Joseph’s actions. Let us cite, for example, Radak’s comments on the verses in Amos:

“That we may sell grain” means “that we may sell,” for one who sells grain is called one who supplies grain, as in “the one who supplied all the people of the land,” and “you shall sell me food for money.” Grain is called “shever” because it breaks hunger, as in “the breaking of the famine in your houses,” analogous to “the wild donkeys break their thirst.” “Making the ephah small”—they reduce the ephah with which they sell. “Making the shekel great”—they enlarge the shekel that they receive: they take from the buyers of grain with an oversized weight, making the stone by which they weigh the money larger. Beyond this, they also distort the scales, which are deceitful balances, after having already bent them, as in “you strip the garments from the naked,” and “grind meal,” and similar expressions. Thus in three ways they cheat the poor when selling them grain.

“To buy”—they scheme against them through what they do, so as to buy them, that is, to buy their fields and vineyards at low prices because of their great distress; and they bring them to that distress through their deceptions. They even think to buy them themselves as slaves, as it says: “If your brother becomes poor beside you and is sold to you.” “And the needy for a pair of sandals”—they think to buy them even for something as slight as a pair of sandals, through the schemes they devise. Yonatan translated “for a pair of sandals” as “for the sake of inheriting,” and we have already explained this above.

This is a description very similar to Joseph’s deeds in Egypt. However, if we understand that such deeds present no moral problem and are problematic only because of settling the Land of Israel, then the difficulty regarding Joseph becomes less severe, since his deeds were done in Egypt and the people involved were gentiles, not Jews. At most, we have here an expression of a capitalist approach that gives a person freedom to trade in the market according to his opportunities.⁶

And yet the spirit is not satisfied with this explanation. As for the halakhic problem, we could offer additional answers, whether on the basis of details of the halakha, into most of which we have not entered, or through homiletical interpretation of the verses; see, for example, Torah Sheleimah here, midrashic sources 41-42, from which it emerges that Joseph acted in accordance with halakha, and perhaps even justly.⁷ But on its face, it is hard to avoid moral condemnation of deeds that exploit a time of distress in this way. Even an ideological capitalist recognizes the problematic nature of blatant exploitation of another person’s hardship.⁸

We should add that even if this halakha is based on the laws of settling the Land of Israel rather than on moral obligations, this does not mean that such obligations do not also exist—if only as obligations outside formal halakha, beyond the letter of the law. We will discuss this further below. Let us now consider another example in which a similar dilemma arises.

Example: The Enactment of Having the Bikkurim Declaration Recited

A similar example appears in the enactment concerning the recitation of the declaration over bikkurim (first fruits).⁹ The Torah obligates us, when bringing the first fruits, to recite the passage of the bikkurim declaration. This passage is recited only in Hebrew (see the Mishnah, beginning of the last chapter of Sotah), which created a problem for those who did not know how to read it. The Mishnah describes that because of this, the Sages enacted the following rule (Mishnah, Bikkurim 3:7):

At first, anyone who knew how to recite would recite, and anyone who did not know how to recite would have it recited for him. When people refrained from bringing them, they enacted that both the one who knows and the one who does not know would have it recited for them.

At first glance, this appears to be an enactment meant to avoid embarrassing the one who does not know how to read, and we know of other enactments of that sort. But in Sifrei we find a more detailed account of the matter, and there it is clarified (Sifrei on Deuteronomy, section 301, on the words “And you shall answer,” and parallels):

“And you shall answer and say”—the term “answering” is stated here, and “answering” is stated elsewhere. Just as the “answering” stated elsewhere is in Hebrew, so too the “answering” stated here is in Hebrew. From here they said: At first, anyone who knew how to recite would recite, and anyone who did not know how to recite would have it recited for him. When people refrained from bringing them, they enacted that both the one who knows and the one who does not know would have it recited for them. They relied on the verse “And you shall answer”—“answering” means only from the mouth of another.

From here it clearly emerges that the rationale for the enactment is not moral. The problem the Sages are addressing is that because of embarrassment, people refrained from bringing the first fruits. In other words, the goal of the enactment is not to prevent embarrassment as such, but to prevent the neglect of the positive commandment of bringing the first fruits. The Sages were concerned for the fulfillment of the mitzvah (commandment), not for the dignity of those who did not know.

The Dual Aspect of Halakha

But what of the embarrassment itself? Is it not in itself sufficient reason to enact such a rule? Do the Sages not care about the dignity of Israel? After all, we have received from the Sages themselves (see Babylonian Talmud, Berakhot 19b, and parallels): “Great is human dignity, for it overrides a negative commandment in the Torah.”

This can perhaps be explained in two ways:

1. The fact that people refrained from bringing the first fruits is only an indication of the intensity of the embarrassment, but the reason for the enactment is the embarrassment itself, not only the concern for fulfillment of the mitzvah.
2. The Sages couch the enactment in a formal halakhic rationale, but behind it stand moral reasons as well.¹⁰

At first glance, one might say something similar about the prohibition against hoarding produce. According to the first explanation, perhaps one could say that the fact that the Land would be emptied of its inhabitants is only an indication of the problematic nature of such a life and such a society, and that this is in fact the real reason for the prohibition of hoarding produce. But this is forced. According to the second explanation, however, matters are more understandable: among the Sages the prohibition against hoarding produce is explained in terms of the mitzvah of settling the Land of Israel, but in fact it also conceals a moral principle behind it.

Perhaps this is the reason that, on the basis of the Tosefta, which apparently speaks only about the Land of Israel, the Gemara, and following it the halakhic authorities, expand the prohibition also to places in the Diaspora—at least places with a Jewish majority—and incorporate into it the moral-social dimension.

Note: When the Rationale Ceases, the Enactment Does Not

Our discussion suggests that the rationale given for a halakha is not always the correct rationale, or at least not the only one.¹¹ Sometimes the Torah, or the Sages, gives one rationale while intending something else as well. We know a similar phenomenon regarding Torah commandments. As a matter of halakha, it is accepted that one does not derive law from the rationale of the verse. As we saw in our article on the portion of Bereshit, 5767, Maimonides rules that one does not derive law from the rationale of the verse even where the rationale is explicit in the text.

We know a similar principle with respect to rabbinic enactments. As is well known, rabbinic enactments are not dependent on their stated rationales, somewhat parallel to the principle that one does not derive law from the rationale of the verse with respect to biblical commandments. Therefore, even if the rationale for an enactment lapses, the enactment itself does not lapse. Some explain this merely in terms of authority—that this rule exists in order to preserve the standing and authority of the Sages. But others explain it in substantive terms. For example, it is known that the Vilna Gaon would explain that every enactment has additional reasons beyond those apparent at first glance, and therefore even when the surface reason lapses, the enactment remains in force because of those hidden reasons.

Some halakhic authorities have noted, however, that where the rationale is explicit in the formulation of the enactment itself, we are permitted to draw halakhic conclusions from it. In chapter 3 of our article on the portion of Bereshit, 5767, we saw a similar phenomenon regarding deriving law from the rationale of a verse where the rationale is explicit in the verse itself.¹²

Yet according to what we have said, something similar emerges with respect to rabbinic enactments as well: even when the rationale is explicit in the formulation of the enactment, one still cannot necessarily draw conclusions from it, because that may not be the correct rationale. For example, when we are outside the Land of Israel, the rationale for the prohibition against price gouging—namely, settling the Land of Israel—would seemingly not apply. If we followed the rationale alone, then price gouging should apparently be permitted.¹³

Morality and Halakha

Earlier, in the opposite direction, we noted that the rationale for the enactment of recitation in the bikkurim declaration might be moral—the concern for embarrassment—even though in practice it is explained on the halakhic plane as concern for failure to fulfill a mitzvah. Why, then, are non-fundamental rationales given? One possible explanation is that halakha does not deal with the moral plane. If one wishes to explain a given halakha, one does so on the halakhic plane. If so, there is embedded here an assumption that morality is an extra-halakhic category.¹⁴ In this context we may say that halakha itself is capitalistic, but that there exists a moral obligation in a more socialist direction—presumably a moderate one.¹⁵

In light of this distinction, we may perhaps offer an explanation for the contradictions we saw above concerning the root of the prohibition against hoarding produce. It may be that in its origin, the prohibition is indeed a law of settling the Land of Israel. The moral expansion is made on the basis of the verses in Amos, but it does not belong to the core law, since morality is not a halakhic category. Once the expansion occurs, the prohibition enters halakha; but at its origin, it is a moral matter rather than a halakhic one.

According to this view, halakha does not necessarily reflect moral standards, and certainly not only moral standards. There are norms that obligate us even though they are not included in formal halakha. Halakha, ideally, wants to leave them on the moral plane and not incorporate them as binding obligations. See our articles on the portions of Noach, Lech-Lecha, and Vayera, 5767, and compare our article on the portion of Vayishlach, 5767.

This is another way to understand the relationship between the verses in Amos and the halakhic ruling. According to our present suggestion, one can understand the chapter in Amos in its plain sense, namely as addressing the moral problem, rather than settlement of the Land of Israel, and nevertheless see what is said there as a moral expansion—or more precisely, as a rebuke directed at one who does not make that expansion—of the formal halakhic prohibition. Alternatively, one may interpret the verses in Amos on the halakhic plane that applies only to the Land of Israel, and understand the halakhic ruling in light of the Babylonian Talmud as a halakhic expansion of what emerges from the verses themselves.

In the Land of Israel, Morality Is Halakha

Until now we have assumed that the two directions in understanding the prohibition of price gouging and hoarding produce are opposed to one another. The moral direction is universal, whereas the direction of settling the Land of Israel does not belong to the realm of morality. But perhaps these two planes can in fact be linked.

According to the Tosefta, in the Land of Israel we are commanded on the halakhic plane as well to conduct ourselves in a proper moral and social manner. In the Diaspora, too, the moral problem exists, but halakha leaves it on the moral plane and does not give it a place within the framework of binding law. There it remains beyond the letter of the law. If so, in the Land of Israel there is within halakha itself a binding measure of socialism, something not found in the Diaspora.

According to this proposal, the Tosefta indeed speaks only about the Land of Israel, but its subject is still moral. It establishes that in the Land of Israel the moral norm is halakhically binding. The verses in Amos can be interpreted on the general moral plane, in which case there is no formal halakha here; or on the plane of the Land of Israel, as we suggested above, in which case they concern the law proper—for in the Land of Israel morality belongs to the law proper. In any event, the halakhic authorities already incorporate even the moral layer of the prohibition against price gouging into formal halakha.

There are additional examples of this. For instance, the prohibition against raising small livestock or the prohibition against encroaching on another’s boundary. In both cases there are clearly moral aspects. In the case of small livestock, the prohibition applies only if one is not careful to prevent one’s animals from stealing from one’s neighbors, but the assumption is that people are generally not careful about this. Nevertheless, in both cases the halakhic anchor is that the practice harms settlement of the Land of Israel, and therefore it is halakhically forbidden only in the Land of Israel.

Here too there is a dual aspect: a moral prohibition anchored in the rationale of settling the Land of Israel. One could explain this by saying that halakha does not always ground a prohibition in its true reasons. But here we are not dealing merely with explanation, for the actual legal force of the prohibition applies only in the Land of Israel. Therefore it is more plausible to explain it as we have done here: in the Land of Israel, moral obligations are halakhically binding. Of course, once this is so, we can understand that their moral basis exists in the Diaspora as well, and anyone who cares for his soul should distance himself from such transgressions there too.

Footnotes