The Proper Attitude Toward the Residents of Gaza (Column 635)

With God’s help

Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.

The harrowing images from Gaza have stirred harsh protests and criticism around the world. In response, here in Israel we hear comparisons between the status of Gaza’s residents and the seven nations about whom it was said “you shall not let a soul live,” or to Amalek, whom we are commanded to destroy. Such statements have circulated widely in recent months, and not only in religious circles; to a large extent they are a counter-reaction to global criticism. I thought it appropriate to examine these comparisons a bit more systematically and critically (and certainly not “from the gut,” as is customary in our quarters on both sides). Needless to say, the fact that the world’s criticisms are unfair or inaccurate does not mean that every counter-comparison is justified.

The Media Dissonance: Ought vs. Is

Let me preface by saying that, as I understand it, the world’s problematic attitude toward us does not stem only from antisemitism. In many cases it is the product of the picture in which people live (via the media) and thus of their ignorance. In that picture, I might also take to the streets against Israel (I hope). Remember: they see tens of thousands killed in bombings by a powerful and forceful army, including thousands of children; hunger and disease; infants living in tents through the winter without medical care; fighting in hospitals and schools; accusations that the UN is collaborating with terror (which sounds absurd); and more and more. No one there is giving lectures on the history of the conflict and its origins, or on the context of these events. But is there no media bias here at home? Do we examine every issue in the world—and even here—deeply before forming a firm opinion? Did any of us look closely at the Russian-Ukrainian conflict, for example, before forming a firm position on it?

There is a great deal of ignorance in the world on this subject, and of course a disregard for context and relevant facts (the history of the conflict, willingness to sign agreements, the Islamic infrastructure, territorial and historical considerations, the broad public support Hamas enjoys among the Palestinian public, and more). But we should honestly admit that we, too, do not really get the full picture. Remember that the media echoes back to each of us what we wish to hear (this is the phenomenon of media/filter bubbles discussed in columns 335, 451, and others). The “New Historians” began this critical trend, which in itself is blessed and good, as it seeks to balance the slanted picture we grew up on (and it certainly was—and still is—slanted). Of course, to draw conclusions from the new facts, we also need context and an analysis of what those facts mean. Clearly, there is never justification for lies in presenting facts. But a full factual foundation is always positive. In short, someone presenting facts that are uncomfortable for us is not necessarily an antisemite. As long as they are facts, he is obliged to present them and we are obliged to see and know them. Conclusions come afterward, depending on the context and the meaning of those facts. One mistake is to conflate presenting facts with presenting a normative stance; the equal and opposite mistake is to ignore facts because of the conclusions that seemingly follow from them. Both sides err in confusing facts with conclusions—that is, in mixing up the is and the ought.

Returning to us: these horrific scenes and images from Gaza are spared us. The usual Israeli media does not show them, and therefore we are less shocked by them—even though they certainly can and should shock. This, of course, says nothing about the conclusions and how we ought to conduct ourselves. Shock is an emotional matter, and I am absolutely opposed to setting policy according to feelings of the heart. Still, the images and facts are relevant factual input that we lack. The newspaper Haaretz, which by its nature emphasizes those angles all the more (well, that’s its duty as a Palestinian house organ), is dismissed with contempt as antisemitic. But presenting reality is not antisemitism. Forming a position without examining the implications of reality is also not necessarily antisemitism. Sometimes it is just superficiality—though in the case of Haaretz, which is indeed well-versed in the facts, it is to a great extent auto-antisemitism.

So much for the background—or the thesis. Let us now turn to the antithesis, namely the above comparisons. Needless to say, this discussion is entirely on the normative plane (the ought).

Rabbi Sherlo’s Remarks

In our correspondence, Rabbi Sherlo sent me a short post he wrote on this question (on the Facebook page called Zikim, Spark 14), and in his fashion he encapsulates it very well:

“‘As he is there’—‘Judged by his end’”

Two opposing sources serve in the moral discussion regarding the offspring of terrorists:

* The first* is ‘judged by his end.’ We have every basis to assume that, given the education preached by Palestinian society, they will not even have the possibility of not becoming enemies of Israel who seek to annihilate us;

And on the other hand: ‘For God has heard the voice of the lad as he is there,’ and Rashi there, in light of the Talmud in Rosh Hashanah, says: > He is judged according to what he does now, and not according to what he will do in the future. <

Many of Israel’s sages have written on resolving the contradiction between these two principles and have proposed various suggestions. Anyone who wishes to deal with the question of what Jewish morality is regarding this reality must relate to both sources—not to one alone—and of course to a broader envelope as well, from the duty of ‘I shall not return until they are consumed,’ to the prevention of a great desecration of God’s name.

May God enlighten our eyes.

Indeed there is tension between these two sources, though we must remember that “as he is there” speaks of Ishmael who, at least in the biblical view, is expected to have billions of descendants; thus it is difficult to decree annihilation upon them all due to a future projection about Ishmael himself. Moreover, at least by the plain sense of Scripture, he himself did not truly sin but is merely expected to cause us trouble. By contrast, “judged by his end” is said regarding the wayward and rebellious son (ben sorer u-moreh), a law concerning a specific individual who has already sinned, and then perhaps it is not right to take into account a projection about what will be with him in the future.

One can suggest further distinctions. But beyond all such distinctions it is important to understand that these two sources address the question of eradicating evil. The tension concerns how far we may eradicate a person before he has chosen evil, merely because he is expected to do so. Our discussion, however—like Rabbi Sherlo’s, which deals with the offspring of terrorists—does not end with eradicating evil, but with the legitimacy of various means of self-defense. Here the question is: may I kill a child who has not sinned solely because of the future threat expected from him, even before it materializes? From this I understand that the expression “judged by his end” is used here by Rabbi Sherlo only in a borrowed sense. As he himself begins: the idea is to kill them because of the danger they will pose in the future (that they will grow up to be terrorists), not to judge them to death as punishment or as eradication of evil because of their future deeds (as with the wayward and rebellious son).[1] It is true that the phrase “children of terrorists” is not ideal, since the intention is to all children of Gaza, not necessarily those whose parents are terrorists.

A Look at Morality and Halakhah

The Torah contains several commandments to annihilate nations completely: the seven nations and Amalek (I will not enter here into the differences between them). On the face of it, these are very difficult morally: what justifies killing an Amalekite or Girgashite infant? What did he do to us?

I have often discussed the distinction and independence between halakhah and morality (see, for example, columns 15 and 541). My claim is that halakhic directives are not to be tested in the crucible of morality, for their aim is religious, not moral. At times the religious aim obligates us to act in a way that is not moral, and that should pose no difficulty for halakhah. Seen this way, the clash between halakhah and morality becomes not a problem but a conflict—a collision between values. Therefore, it is neither necessary nor correct to base the halakhic directive in moral terms. The remaining question is which side takes precedence, but the mere fact that there are contradictory directives is not itself problematic.

Such a conception opens the door to explanations of the following sort: the annihilation of Amalek or the Girgashites is meant to achieve religious ends; a moral justification need not necessarily be found. True, in such cases the sages usually find ways to limit and narrow the halakhic directive as much as the halakhic tools of interpretation allow, in order to reduce the intensity of the conflict; but there is still no inherent problem.

A Possible Justification

In the third book of the trilogy (Part II, Chapter 5) I explained that notwithstanding the above, when dealing with these commandments there may be room to justify the halakhic directives also on the moral plane. Let us begin with the seven nations. Imagine a nation whose entire purpose in the world is idolatry coupled with brutish, cruel conduct. That is how they educate their children; that is their culture and national ethos. Infants of such a nation are nothing but potential to become such adults, and perhaps there is room to understand the moral justification of a halakhic directive to destroy them, from infant to elder. Although in principle every person has free choice, when we look at them as a collective, it seems they have no future or hope. One can apply here the principle “you shall remove the evil from your midst.” But this truly goes far, because it concerns an infant who has not yet committed any offense, and whose committing one (or not) will be left to his future choice. On the face of it, I would expect the Torah to allow a child born to the Girgashites to choose, and to decree his eradication only after he has chosen evil.

That is with regard to the seven nations. While reading the Torah portion of Zakhor last Shabbat I thought that regarding Amalek the case is simpler. Imagine a nation whose entire purpose in the world is to prey upon others (and in particular upon Israel) and to annihilate them. That is how they educate their children in school; that is the goal of the entire nation—even if those who actually bear arms are only a minority who belong to the Amalekite army. This is merely a division of labor. Their entire existence is devoted to that goal, and for their children too the future seems fairly clear even now. One could of course say, as we said regarding the seven nations, that here too we ought to allow each infant to choose and only then decree his fate after he chooses evil; but in Amalek we are dealing not (only) with sin but with a physical threat to us. Therefore, it is not only a matter of eradicating evil but of defending ourselves from them. Taking into account the Amalekite child’s future choice entails assuming unreasonable risks for us. In such a case there is indeed logic in permitting the blood of every Amalekite, whether directly involved or not.

All this always struck me as a hypothetical discussion far removed from us. Sometimes we think of it in terms of the Nazis in the Holocaust. A Jew in a concentration camp would surely be eager to contribute to the destruction of the German nation as a whole—women, children, and infants. This is certainly understandable and justifiable. But even there, my sense is that it was not an essential feature of their culture, but a pathology that took hold in those years. Germans are not Jew-haters or seekers of our destruction more than any other nation. In those years a mad psychosis took hold there, and they became a nation of pursuers. Therefore, it is difficult to claim that the children who grew up there would necessarily be pursuers when they matured. The fact is that Germans today—the children born then and their descendants—are mostly not like that. So there, killing children is at most in the category of eradicating evil (some compared the Nazis to Amalek), but not self-defense (since the future risk from them is far from clear).

But last October we received a chilling demonstration of a case more clear-cut than the Nazis. Hamas is not more cruel than the Nazis, and I have no interest in entering all the pointless debates about the uniqueness of Nazism versus our other tormentors—both because they are irrelevant and because that sport is not to my taste. The difference relevant to us lies in how deeply this is embedded in the culture in question. In Germany, as noted, it was not the deep, foundational substrate of their culture (for the Nazis, yes; for the German people, no). But among our neighbors in Gaza, this seems very much the case. There is a culture there that contains little more than the desire to annihilate us, and as part of militant Islam in general to conquer the world while exterminating all infidels. They educate their children to this morning and night with astonishingly cruel propaganda, and there is no sign that any of this is going to change. Unlike Nazism, it is anchored in distorted religious conceptions and flourishes in a primitive, benighted environment. All this is a recipe for breeding monsters like those we encountered last October. This does not look like a temporary takeover of the entire people by a party or group. Polls show that the support for these atrocities is sweeping in Judea and Samaria (the West Bank) and also in Gaza, even nowadays. Many are prepared to endure all the suffering their benighted culture inflicts upon them as long as they succeed in killing and causing suffering to Jews and other infidels. If so, it seems that this is that “people,” and this is its purpose. In such a situation, the justification I described above returns with greater force, far more than with the Nazis. Is it not proper to annihilate this people from infant to elder and leave them neither remnant nor survivor? Are those not correct who claim there are no “non-involved” in Gaza? Clearly not everyone bears arms, and not even all assist those who do, and there is also a minority that does not support them. But the great majority support them and thereby aid them in various ways. Gaza as a collective is a puddle that serves as a breeding ground for monsters. It seems almost deterministic.

The Question of Self-Defense

After all that, it is important to distinguish between a claim of eradicating evil and considerations of self-defense. Self-defense is subject to consequentialist assessment. It can justify killing and causing suffering only where defense requires it. One cannot base upon it a permit to kill uninvolved Gazans unless they pose a danger to us. By contrast, eradicating evil could take us much farther: there one might argue that there is justification, and perhaps even an obligation, to annihilate Gazans as such, irrespective of any danger they pose. But to establish such a thing, one needs a clear basis—halakhically and morally. The verses regarding Amalek or the seven nations are not such a basis, for there does not seem to be a general principle (a binyan av) there. They are the specific examples in question, and even regarding them the decisors limited and narrowed the biblical directives. Therefore, the conclusion that there is here a duty to eradicate evil strikes me as hasty and unfounded. By contrast, self-defense considerations are certainly relevant, and on their basis one might perhaps raise arguments that justify killing children (who will grow to be terrorists or collaborators). In practice, I think even that is excessive. Killing a Gazan child “by his end” seems problematic to me. But there is still room for “softer” considerations.

I have written more than once that, in my view, in the case of Gaza there is justification to do everything necessary to achieve the goals of the war—namely the elimination of Hamas, the return of the hostages, and ensuring security for the entire State of Israel. Whatever is required to achieve those goals is morally justified in my opinion, including starving children and mass killing of uninvolved people (I am not entering here the considerations of global criticism, nor the concern over loss of international support and its consequences, which should not be dismissed). The explanation is that we are dealing with a collective pursuer (rodef) (these matters are detailed in several places on this site. See my article here, and columns 1, 5, 151, and others). The Gazans (and perhaps the Palestinians as a whole) are engaged in a dogged war with us as a collective and are unwilling to let go; therefore, not only those who bear arms are pursuers. All of them have the halakhic status of a pursuer. I explained there, however, that even so there is no justification to harm uninvolved people unless and when doing so is required for our defense; otherwise the rule of “could he be saved by injuring one of his limbs” applies.

This is a “softer” expansion of the rules of self-defense regarding Gazans—but it is still self-defense, not eradication of evil. And even for reasons of self-defense, I do not think it is reasonable to permit the killing of infants per se (not when it occurs in the course of striking terrorists) merely due to the future danger expected from them. Even regarding adults who support Hamas’s actions: support for terror is not an offense that justifies killing. Killing is justified only if it has a practical effect—namely, if it is necessary as part of our defense, and not as punishment or eradication of evil.

Eradicating Evil

Applying the law of eradicating evil or “you shall not let a soul live” to all Gazans is a very far-reaching approach. Until the Torah innovates such a novelty, “you have no more than what it innovated”—do not add to it. This became very clear to me when I heard of the Religious-Zionism party’s opposition to a move to place Gazan orphans left without family or home due to the current war with families in Judea and Samaria (see here). Their claim was that this is a “eclipse of moral lights,” no less, since our hostages receive no similar treatment from Hamas (to put it mildly). Seemingly this would be a pressure tactic aimed at improving the situation of the hostages and the chances of their return—and if so, that would be a perfectly legitimate consideration (as noted above, in my view every step is justified to achieve our aims). But this is, of course, nonsense. Hamas is only too pleased that there are orphans suffering. It photographs wonderfully for them, and nothing would make them less inclined to improve their treatment of the hostages. It is clear to me that this is a Pavlovian reaction by frustrated people who want to take revenge on Gazans and react from the gut. There is no justification to cause suffering to those orphans or to refrain from helping them improve their living conditions if that does not help our war aims. It is merely baseless, unjustified revenge.[2] It is nothing but emotional, childish vindictiveness.

Rabbi Mali’s Remarks

I noted above that a few days ago someone asked me about this matter. The reference was to statements made by Rabbi Mali in a class (see a report here; you’ll see the video is unavailable because it was removed following the criticism), where he compared Gaza’s residents to the seven nations about whom it is said, “you shall not let a soul live.” People understood (rightly or not—I understood from someone who was at the class that indeed rightly) that he meant a sweeping permit to kill Gazans as such.

In my reply I wrote the following:

“‘You shall not let a soul live’ was said about the seven nations or Amalek, and that is that. If he has interpretive innovations, that’s very nice, but to launch a genocide on their basis is too much—especially since this borders on ta’ama de-kra (and at most one could say that is its category). About this it is said: ‘Shall we act merely because we speculate?!’ Beyond that, there is also the law of nations (international law) and morality to which we are bound.”

“Note that I am not speaking of a situation in which it is necessary to harm the uninvolved in order to save ourselves or rescue hostages. It is obvious that this is permitted and required, with no connection to ‘you shall not let a soul live.’ For this there is no need for novel interpretations. It is possible that this is what he intends, and he behaves like all those who delight in finding everything in verses (through no fault of the verses), even when it is a simple argument. But the claim that one should kill them even if doing so is not needed for our salvation is a very great interpretive innovation and ta’ama de-kra. To kill on the basis of such a thing is criminal rashness.”

If his statement was meant as eradicating evil, then indeed a source is required. But the source brought there—“you shall not let a soul live”—is very dubious. And if his intention was necessity on grounds of defense and preservation of life, then there is no need whatsoever for sources and dubious interpretations of them. One must only decide whether it is in fact necessary and helpful or not. Either way, it appears on its face that the statements are unreasonable or at least inconsistent.

[1] In the laws of the pursuer and the burglar (rodef and ba bamachteret) we also discuss “judged by his end,” and there it is seemingly true self-defense; but even there, commentators have already written that the act has a punitive component. In my article in Techumin, “Killing a Thief for the Sake of Defending Property”, I argued that at least in ba bamachteret the permit to kill him is not based on concern that he will kill the homeowner, and the Talmud’s statement to that effect must be interpreted differently.

[2] The same applies to creating a humanitarian crisis in Gaza. There is a similar approach among members of the Religious-Zionism party, even though that likely will not truly improve our chances of achieving the aims of the war—both because Hamas is only too pleased with images of suffering, and because the world will be angered and further restrict our fighting. One can perhaps debate this, but the case of the orphans mentioned above seems to me entirely clear-cut.