Current aspects of the problem of the individual and the whole, and the 'defensive wall' dilemma

Noon – 2013

The assertion that the generality, or the public, is not just a fictitious collection of the individuals united in it, but an independent and existing entity, is old and trite (and also true, of course).[1] However, this principle has topical implications that are sometimes overlooked. There is a tendency to treat this 'inquiry' (in the Yeshivah sense) about the nature of the rule as a dichotomous 'inquiry', meaning that we must consistently decide on one of its two sides.

As a demonstration of this, we can examine the 13th issue of 'Tzohar', in which several aspects were raised, very different from each other, all of which concern the relationship between the individual and the whole, and the dichotomy of the 'investigation'. This phenomenon raises the need to point out precisely this context that characterizes this collection of discussions.

The article is divided into four chapters. In the first chapter of the article (which is almost journalistic in nature), I will point out the set of implications of this issue for the problems discussed in the previous issue, and I will try to briefly clarify the root of the dilemmas. This part is mainly intended to convince the reader that this discussion is at the foundation of several current issues. Then, in the second and third chapters of the article, another aspect will be discussed, concerning the moral dilemma that arose in Jenin during Operation Defensive Shield, to which the distinction proposed here can be applied. Finally, in the fourth chapter, I will offer initial lines for examining the Torah's attitude to public responsibility and collective punishment.

A. A review of issue 13 of 'Tzohar' from the aspect of individual-general relations

Yaakov Kurtzman, in his article "The Court - Is It a Corporation?", points to references to the court as an independent legal entity separate from the judges who compose it (in modern legal language: a "corporation"). The principle itself is certainly well known in Jewish thought, but his main argument is that it should also have halakhic-legal expressions.

As for the court, I am not sure that the evidence presented in the article is solid enough.[2] In any case, it seems to me that the principle that the rule constitutes an independent entity, even from a legal perspective, does not require a discussion of the status of a court in order to prove it.[3]

At the end of his remarks, Kurtzman also comments on the danger of viewing a corporation as a legal entity, which can lead to the corporation's owners escaping legal responsibility for their actions (this is, in the language of lawyers: the 'veil of incorporation'). He therefore suggests examining this view with caution.

This comment is problematic. If indeed the halakha truly views the corporation as an independent legal entity, this cannot be ignored, even if there is a danger in doing so. Perhaps a regulation could be amended that uproots this halakha, but the statement that views the corporation as a legal entity cannot be interpreted differently just because there are dangers in doing so.

Therefore, I think it would be more correct to say that the corporate aspect is not exclusive. Every corporation has two faces: a general face and a private face. We must consider in each situation the question of which of its two faces we should address. If we translate this reservation from the legal plane back to the metaphysical one, we can say that every rule has both faces. Sometimes we must adopt both, and sometimes only one.

Rabbi Ariel's response in the same issue deals with the issue of olive harvesting in Palestinian-owned territories. It seems to me that a reasonable interpretation of Rabbi Ariel's claim is that a distinction must be made between public sovereignty over territory and legal-financial ownership of individuals over territory. The people of Israel have sovereignty over territory, but not necessarily ownership. Therefore, it is possible, perhaps, to harm Palestinian sovereignty over territory, but not their private ownership (since plundering the Gentile is forbidden).[4]

Here we see a confrontation between a view that sees the general as the appearance of everything, and therefore translates the struggle for sovereignty into a general permission to harm private property, and a view that calls for consideration of the private aspects of the members of the collective. As in the previous example, it seems that we must consider both aspects together: the general and the private. In the matter of Didan, according to Rabbi Ariel, we must adopt the private perspective.

In another article, Rabbi Issachar Heiman argues for the need to change the focus of study in the Hesder yeshiva, and not to force students to focus specifically on the study of the Iyun. His argument is that the yeshiva should be intended for the general public, and not necessarily for individuals who will continue their studies over time.

This suggestion is not correct in my opinion, for various reasons. However, here I would like to point out again the dilemma between addressing specific details and addressing the general. Again, there are two sides to the problem, and we must decide whether to address the details or the general.[5]

Rabbi Feuerstein's article argues that we should not create a Zionist Teshuvah movement, as this could harm the fabric of dialogue that is gradually being created between the various segments of the public in our society.

First, I will state that I completely disagree with most of his claims.[6] But beyond the debates, here I would like to focus again on the aspect of the general and the individual, which comes up very strongly here. Religious Zionism has a tendency to attack problems 'from above', from the general to the particular. The goals for which this public works are dialogues between parts of the public, influence on the laws of the state, the nature of the public domain, and so on.

In contrast, in Haredi society, which founded the re-repentance movements, there is a focus primarily on the details that make up the whole. Every Jew who repents is an achievement. There is a willingness and dedication of the majority of the public to mobilize to bring distant people closer in the most private way. In the eyes of this public, the public domain is nothing more than the sum of the details that make it up. There is no goal in changing the law book in itself, but rather as a means of influencing the individuals.

Once again, there is a dilemma here of general work versus private work. It seems to me that here I find myself, following all the voices that have recently been raised supporting a Zionist Tshuva movement, actually leaning towards the Haredi side. For the sake of justice, the general approach fails all the way. As mentioned, we have almost no influence on the image of the state, not even in proportion to our relative share of the population. And for this reason, we are called to give up on attempts to return our brothers to his work, the Blessed One. It seems that there is a degree of blindness and pathos in this adherence to a path that constantly fails. We must be brave, and draw the conclusions, at least on the tactical level, if not more.

In conclusion, Rabbi Ari Shevat's response deals solely with this point itself, and is therefore the clearest example of a discussion of the relationship between the individual and the collective. He calls on the women of Israel to be concerned only with the needs of the collective and to abandon their personal desires for a private ascension in the fear of God. One of my main arguments against him is that every person also has a private aspect and is not just part of the collective, and it seems that Rabbi Shevat tends to ignore this (at least with regard to women).[7]

This is the "publicistic" part of the article. We tried to show, through a review of one issue of "Tzohar," the topicality of clarifying the relationship between the individual and the whole. Now we will move on to the second chapter, where we will try to apply these principles to a "burning" issue, which for some reason has not yet received adequate halachic treatment.

B. The Jenin Dilemma

In issue 11 of 'Tzohar', Rabbi Sharlo raises the dilemma of harming innocent people during combat. There, moral considerations are mainly raised, and the discussion is conducted mainly on a principled level, and not as a detailed halakhic discussion. Here I will try to offer conclusions, at least on a halakhic level. If the things above me cause those older than me to express their opinion on this serious issue, I will judge.

I would like to discuss the dilemma that faced the IDF forces and the Israeli government in Jenin. The terrorists had entrenched themselves in a small, densely populated urban area, and it was clear that there were civilians, even babies, in the area. The dilemma was whether to enter the area on the ground, thereby endangering the lives of soldiers, or to bomb the area from above (after warnings and giving time for a controlled evacuation of anyone who wished to do so), thereby endangering the lives of civilians.

This is a question that has a distinct halakhic aspect (although not only such an aspect), and for some reason it has not yet received a real halakhic clarification. Soldiers from our yeshivahs have faced, and still face, in one form or another, such dilemmas, and I believe it is our duty to provide them with an answer to their doubts.

The "resounding" silence of the rabbinical establishment on this issue is interpreted in the field in two ways:

1. It's clear that they should have bombed from above, but for some reason they don't say it out loud.
2. The decision is left to the military-political echelon. This too is for two reasons:

• Fundamental: The decision does indeed depend solely on the discretion of the military-political echelon.
• Technically: The one who actually had to decide was only the decision-making echelon, not the field echelon.

With regard to the first point, it seems to me that even if the decision is indeed clear, there is great interest in hearing the Torah and Halacha opinion on this issue in a clear and distinct voice, and not just for the sake of clarifying the fact that there is Torah opinion in such a field.

As for the second point, see my article in Tzohar 7. The conclusion there was that there are halakhic and ethical considerations here, and it is not possible to treat such a decision as a purely military-political one. The military-political echelon does not trust our values, and is often motivated by considerations rooted in a different kind of morality, if at all. Even if we leave it to these echelons, it must be said in a clear voice.

Regarding point b, although the decision in the case in question was made by the highest echelons of the army and government, if the correct halakhic decision was that bombing should be done from above and there is no room for endangering soldiers' lives, there is room to consider refusing an order in such a situation (this does not detract from an order to violate Shabbat. And Shabbat is rejected in the face of protection of life). This is already a decision that concerns the territory itself (of course, aspects of maintaining the military fabric should not be ignored).

A well-known halachic answer that deals with a related issue is the answer of the late Rabbi Yisraeli (following the Kivia act) regarding the permission to carry out an act of retaliation, despite the fear of harming innocent people.[8]

Rabbi Yisraeli, in his aforementioned response, concludes that in the private sphere it is forbidden to perform an action that would harm the lives of innocent people (no one saves himself at the cost of the life of his friend. And more, see Shavgoi Hamira Tefi, p. 11). However, his conclusion is permissible due to the laws of war.

Although in this case the question is a little different: the operation will be carried out successfully in any case. The question is whether to risk the lives of soldiers, or to risk harming innocent people. If so, the direct war objectives will be achieved in any case, and the lives of several soldiers are at stake. Therefore, it is not clear that the war permits are relevant here (although, it is certainly possible that they are). It is not entirely clear (at least in my opinion) that every action the army engages in has war boundaries, and allows for the excessive permits granted by a state of war.

Beyond that, Rabbi Israeli's conclusion is that a lone man who is being pursued by the people of Jenin will not be able to bomb the city from above and risk harming innocent people, and will have to fight with those who seek his life or die (see Gur Aryeh, 1991, and it is stated that Shimon and Levi killed all the inhabitants of Shechem by law of war, even though they were a private family, and a Tzelag)?

If this is indeed the conclusion of the halakhah, we must bow our heads in submission. However, I will attempt here to propose and establish a different conclusion, one that is more in line with the intuition (at least mine). At this point, the considerations of generality and detail discussed above will come into play. Let the reader see and judge.

The origin of this is the dispute between Rashi and Toss, 1962, regarding one who saves himself with his friend's money. In the simple matter, King David asks whether he is permitted to burn Israel's grain in order to save the lives of his soldiers. According to the law, a person does not save himself with his friend's money. According to Rashi, this is forbidden, literally (he must be killed and not commit theft). According to Toss and Shara, it is permitted to save oneself, but one must pay for the burnt grain.

The accepted explanation in Sha'ar Rashi is, following the words of the Harash in Sha'arei Yosher, Sha'ar 5, that the prohibition of theft is an exception among the prohibitions of the Torah. The prohibition of reaching into one's fellow man's property does not stem from the prohibition of theft, but the prohibition of theft stems from the prohibition of reaching into one's fellow man's property. Therefore, although the prohibition of theft was rejected in the light of the protection of life, the legal prohibition of taking another's property remains (which also exists among non-Jews, even though there is no "thou shalt not steal," as the Harash says there).

There are some Rishonim who explicitly say that the permission to save oneself is only because the owner himself had to save with his own money, and therefore the money is supposedly encumbered for the rescue. There are Rishonim who seem to think that if he pays, there is no real "you shall not steal" (at least not on a legal level). If so, the basic understanding for the other Rishonim is also the same as Rashi, that if there is a legal prohibition, then he rejects pikuach nefesh.

The Israeli rabbi there claims that for a Gentile, the situation is even more serious, since he is not commanded to give his money to save Israel, and he is apparently not interested in doing so.

In light of all this, in Nesvot it seems that the Law prohibits one from saving oneself with the life of one's friend. Here it is clear that the friend's life is not enslaved to this matter, and he cannot pay him back with his life.[9] Simply put, this is exactly the law of killing and not committing murder ('Who dares to kill me, my dear,').

In light of the above, it seems clear that even for a Gentile, whose prohibition against murdering him may be easier, there is no room for allowing his life to be saved, according to the Jewish Law. Here too, the prohibition is not because of 'thou shalt not murder,' but rather the prohibition 'thou shalt not murder' is because of this principle.

If so, the conclusion is that there are two levels of problematicity in saving oneself at the cost of one's fellow man's life: the prohibition level (which in Israel is perhaps more severe), and the general legal level (which may be more severe in a Gentile).

And here, in contrast to all of the above, there is the law of persecution. There we see that one life is rejected for another, and it is obligatory to kill the persecutor to save the persecuted.

In light of the above, it follows that two innovations were stated here: 1. In the 23rd century, there is no prohibition of murder. 2. The soul of the persecutor is enslaved to the salvation of the persecuted (therefore, he does not take something that is not his on the legal level).

A simple proof of the existence of the second level is that there is a law of the Kalbadam in the persecution, and it is proven that there is also a 'punishment' for the persecution, whose blood is forgiven as water, and not only was the prohibition 'thou shalt not murder' forgiven regarding him. See also 'Afiki Yam', Ch. 2, 3, 5, 10, 11.

It should be noted that this is also mentioned in the case of money. In Rambam, Sohal Havval and Zik brings the law of money chasing, with a heavy load that threatens to sink a ship at sea. Rambam rules that in the 23rd chapter of the Havval, money is chasing, and there is not even an obligation to pay for damage to money.

And in the Rab'ad that is obtained, and in the Kas'am and M'am that we mentioned for theft and loss, 22:14, where the Rambam brings the baraita that deals with the law of cargo during a storm at sea, and there the Rambam wrote that there is an obligation to pay for the money that was thrown away.

And it seems that the difference is that in the word "gazilla" it is about money that is not pursued, since it is the storm that is about to drown him, and therefore it is saving oneself with the money of one's friend. Therefore, here the money is not enslaved to his rescue (according to the majority of the Rishonim, and without Karshi). In the word "hovel" it is about money that is itself pursued (without a storm), and therefore here it is itself enslaved to the rescue of those being pursued. Therefore, here it is permissible to throw it into the sea and not pay.

This is the essence of the difference between the law of a persecutor and the law of one who saves himself with his friend's money. Persecution adds another law that the persecutor (with his money and life) is enslaved to save the persecuted. It should be noted that the very fact that there is persecution by money, which is not a conscious act, means that there is a novelty here that the money itself is enslaved to save and not just that it is 'obligated to punishment.'[10]

In the case of Jenin, there were several levels of persecutors: direct and indirect helpers (see the O.S. of the Jewish Law, a murderer). However, children and infants are apparently not persecutors, but rather as someone who saves himself with his friend's money. If so, it is apparently forbidden to save ourselves with their lives. As mentioned, Rabbi Israeli moves to a ruling on the public level, and only permits this in wartime. We noted above that this is a problematic approach.

C. Collective persecutor

Despite all that has been said so far, it seems to me that it is permissible in the KHG to bomb from above, even without the laws of war. Up to this point we have assumed that in relation to innocent people (at least infants) we are in the position of one who saves himself at the cost of the life of his friend (and not a persecutor), and this is forbidden in the KHG. However, in reality, this is not a situation of persecution of one individual after another, but of a community of persecutors. If so, there is a collective persecutor here. In such a situation, the laws of persecutors will also apply to infants by virtue of their belonging to the persecuting collective.

We propose here to define the concept of a 'collective persecutor.' When a people pursues someone to kill them, they are not treated as a collection of individuals, from whom it is possible to distinguish which of them is pursuing and which is not. There is a collective here that is pursuing us to kill us. According to the Law of Moses, harming a part of the persecuting public is not in the sense of saving oneself at the cost of the life of a fellow, but rather harming the actual persecutor. Saving oneself at the cost of the life of a fellow is said only of a neutral third person, who is not connected to the persecution, and in which case one does not reject a life for another. However, as stated above, the persecutor's blood is spared, and therefore his life is enslaved to saving the life of the persecuted.

And it seems to provide evidence for this from the above-mentioned rabbi, 60:2. The rabbi there finds it appropriate to specifically note that the sheaur that King David asks about are Israel's ('Gedishin deshaurim deIsrael hav'). And it should not be said that this is because the prohibition against stealing from a Gentile is easier, since the matter is a legal prohibition, and it also exists among a Gentile (cf. the Garrash there for the Hadiya). Indeed, Rabbi Israel writes that saving oneself with Gentile wealth is even more serious than saving with Jewish wealth.

Therefore, it seems that the interpretation in the GK is that if there was a Philistine goat here, it is permissible to burn it, not because the prohibition is easier, but because the Philistine's wealth is permissible in such a pursuit, from the law of a 'collective pursuer'. The Philistine people pursue David, and not a collection of individuals. And if the bodies of the innocent are permissible, their wealth is even less so. In such a situation, a person saves himself with his friend's wealth and is not obligated to pay, since this is a matter of the law of the pursuer and not of the law of the one who saves himself with his friend's wealth (as in the case of the pursuer in the Exodus).

And according to our words, it will be clear that even for financial damage caused by our soldiers to Palestinian civilians during the fighting, there is no obligation in principle to compensate them. If there were a law here that saves oneself with the money of his friend, according to the law it would be permissible to take, but there would be an obligation to pay. However, if our words are honest, and the obligation here is from a persecuting law, then their money is encumbered to save our lives.

As stated, in the Shechem act, Shimon and Levi killed all the inhabitants of the city because there were "wanted" people among them (see in "Or Ha-Hayim" ibid., and in other commentaries, etc.). As stated, the Maharal in "Gur Aryeh" explains this in terms of the law of war, even though the family of Jacob is a single family, and not a nation (especially since Jacob himself, the head of the family, did not declare war and probably did not consent to it). It is possible that he means, as we have said, that when there is a persecuting collective, this is not conditioned by the law of war itself.

We will add a few comments here:

1. According to this proposal, we have no need for the laws of war. If the persecutor is a public, then the persecuted, even if he is an individual, can use harm to a part of the persecuting public in order to save himself. This is either in their bodies or in their property (as we have proven above from the above-mentioned "K" of the above-mentioned "Gem". This is not according to the conclusion of Rabbi Yisraeli.
2. There is also a serious difference between our proposal and Rabbi Yisraeli's ruling. Anyone who does not belong to the 'pursuing collective' (a tourist, or someone who has been kidnapped there, etc.) will be forbidden to be killed. This is true even if he pursues without intention (such as a Dauber who has taken his head off), and certainly if he only interferes with the rescue (killing the wanted ones), which is saving himself at the cost of his friend's life, as illustrated by Didan. In the laws of war, it seems clear that it is also permissible to kill tourists or kidnapped people, since this is a legitimate decision of a king in war.
3. For the sake of clarity on public law, it is necessary to discuss whether a Palestinian who damaged property (at least during the activity) would be exempt from the Kalbadaram law. Even if he is part of a public that is subject to a persecutory law, in the 27th century there is a place to charge him because each person is also judged as an individual and not just as part of the public. In the 27th century, only the entire public that caused the damage would be exempt.[11]
4. There is another important caveat to our statement, in which we will see another implication for the above discussion of the perceptions of the general and the individual. It is clear that there is no blanket permission here to kill everyone who belongs to the persecuting collective. If it is not necessary to kill the innocent, it is strictly forbidden to kill, for two reasons:

• Formally: It is similar to someone who can be saved with one of his limbs. In the case of Didan, the persecuted can be saved with some of the limbs of the persecuting collective. Although it would be permissible for the persecuted to himself to be subject to the Rivash and its ilk, the persecuted himself has no law that can save him with one of his limbs.
• Essentially: Each individual is also judged as an individual and not just as part of a collective. Therefore, there is a prohibition against him, "You shall not murder," from the perspective of his law as an individual. This was not permitted where there was no necessity for it, and all those who were killed are shedding blood. Here it seems simple that it would also be forbidden for the aforementioned "Rivash" (dispute). This is the most important of the explanations, and it is dependent on the concepts of the general and the individual that we saw above. On the one hand, each person is judged as an individual, and on the other hand, he is also judged as part of the general (which in this case is persecuting us). And see above in all the examples we cited from the aforementioned issue of "Tzohar."

An important note is that, of course, even if the individual is permitted to act in this manner, there is room for public and halachic criticism of his actions, and therefore there is certainly room for punishing him if his decision does not seem reasonable to us.

And we must discuss, even if we are right in our words, whether it is possible to volunteer and act outside the law, and enter the territory on the ground and thereby endanger the lives of our soldiers. The reasons could be morality, international law, desecration/sanctification of the Lord, etc. The question is also who is authorized to do so? Should volunteers be requested from among the soldiers, and perhaps permission from the family (certainly for a married reservist, there is a side that requires permission, or at least consultation, with his wife and children)? Is the command authorized to order this in a military order? And so on.

It is also necessary to discuss whether, in light of such a perception, there is room for preventive collective punishment. For example, whether we are permitted to punish entire Palestinian populations in order to prevent the harmful actions of individuals among them. I would point out that such a method of action (which, unfortunately, has been taken by us quite a bit in the past) is generally immoral and unhelpful. The question here is of principle: if we decide in a particular situation that this is the necessary course of action, are we permitted to do so? What is at issue here is to what extent the effect of the punishment on future results must be direct, in order to justify such an action.

D. Chapter headings on the issue of collective punishment

One of the clearest expressions of the relationship between the individual and the public is found in the Rambam's Law of Repentance, where he states that on the Day of Judgment each year, every individual is judged, as well as the city, the state, and the entire world. This is a clear expression of the duality of each of our personalities. Each one is judged as a private entity, but also as part of a collective. Anyone can be righteous in their private judgment, and guilty in their collective judgment.

It should be noted that in the Rambam both of these aspects appear together. It is not possible to refer to just one of them. Those who have the 'private' approach, as well as those who have the general approach ('state', usually in the above), both apparently do not present the whole picture. This was the root of the discussion in all the examples I brought from the previous issue of 'Tzohar'.

It seems simple that the judgment on a person as part of the state is not necessarily related to his direct, or perhaps even indirect, guilt in its character. Sometimes the mere fact that he is part of that state is sufficient grounds to punish him for defects in its conduct. Here he is punished as part of the defective general organ. When the state suffers from its defects, all its citizens also suffer. This is the situation we saw above in the collective persecutory judgment.

There are several levels of such public-social obligation, and it is expressed in duties and penalties for non-fulfillment. There are several methods for this that we will not discuss here. My goal is to point out the very existence of this hierarchy.

1. There is someone who dresses his friend in mixed clothes, or defiles him with his hands. In such a situation, the Rambam (P. I. Michlaiyim hal "t) rules that when the person being dressed is mistaken and the person being dressed is intentional, the person being dressed is at fault. It should be noted that there are no lashes for the "before the blind" clause, and it is clear that the Rambam sees the person being dressed as one who has violated the prohibition of mixed clothes. Most commentators understand the Rambam's words as a general principle in Torah law, and not as a special law in the laws of mixed clothes (and impurity and nuns), etc.
2. There is one who stumbles his friend in a prohibition, in the "Tari Ivrei Danhara" (meaning that without him he could not have committed the offense). This is a transgression "before the blind." Rashi, at the beginning of Parashat Matot, refers to a husband who tells his wife that he broke her vows, while the truth is that he did not do so. He states there that the one who stumbles his friend is subject to punishment under him. It turns out that these are heavenly punishments, since here the husband's responsibility is more indirect.
3. There is someone who helps his friend to break a prohibition in a "chad ebra danhara." This is called "assisting," whose prohibition, if any, is from the rabbis.
4. There is someone who did not prevent his friend from violating a prohibition. This violates the practice of 'proving proves'.
5. And there are those who did not prove it after the fact. This too fell under the category of "proven, prove."
6. There is a final level, of pure responsibility, in which a person is punished for the sins of his friend, even though he had no part in them, in any of the above ways. Here the responsibility, and consequently the punishment, are due to the very fact that someone connected to the society of which he himself is a member sins. This topic appears in the issue of Shavuot 39 A.A., which will be brought up immediately.[12]

All of these are expressions of one level or another of the law of guarantee. The very fact that the law of guarantee does not only entail the obligation to prove, and the penalty for failure to reprimand, but also the ability to exonerate the member (with blessings, etc.), shows that behind these laws there is a metaphysical concept that sees a web of connections between the details that make up the whole. In light of such a concept, it is quite clear that the whole can be seen as an entity that exists for itself, beyond the details that make it up.

A clear expression of these distinctions (and especially of the sixth level, that of 'pure responsibility') is found in the G.M. Shavuot 39:1, which states that for a false and false oath, the family is also punished, and the entire rule:

You don't have a family where there is a tax collector who is not all tax collectors, and where there are robbers who are not all robbers, because they cover him up.

In the above-mentioned judgment, this is contrasted with the punishment of someone who could have protested but did not, according to the usual bail law. In other words, this is not a case of guilt for lack of protest and prevention. The expression "covering up for him," in the aforementioned judgment, does not mean any direct guilt. This is collective punishment for the very fact that they cover up for him by their existence and cooperation with him. The issue there is lengthy in these distinctions, and a discussion of collective punishment requires an examination of what comes from the above-mentioned issue in more detail, and so on.

It should be noted that there it is a question of collective punishment in the form of divine punishments only. Here we offer an expression for this in human law. The reason for this is that we are not talking about punishment in the full sense of the word, but rather about the question of who is first in his responsibility for the actions of the Palestinian terrorists. A discussion of collective punishment would determine punishment for all Palestinians. Here the discussion is more limited: Are the ones who should pay the price the IDF soldiers, or the innocent Palestinian civilians? It seems to me that from this minimalist aspect, we can certainly learn from the aforementioned Shavuot, which deals with divine law, also regarding our considerations as human beings.[13]

There is an automatic shock from acts of collective punishment, and certainly from the killing of innocent people. However, it should be noted that this is about the alternative of our soldiers being killed, who are also innocent, and there is no reason for them to be killed because of the actions of the terrorists. At least when dealing with the choice between these two alternatives, the approach of collective punishment can be adopted even from a purely moral point of view.

The very automatic definition of individuals as innocent is a modern definition, derived from the Western conception of morality. This tends to treat the individual as the fundamental entity, and the whole as a fiction (or device). According to this observation, there are terrorists and there are innocent people, and it is not possible to harm the innocent because of the actions of the terrorists. As we have seen, the Torah definition is that a public is a legal entity, and even an entity that bears punishment, and therefore it is permissible, in certain cases, to harm parts of the collective in order to save itself from harming another part of it.

This seems to be the basis for the seemingly puzzling correlation, in which those who are associated with the 'left' tend to support a ground entry so as not to endanger innocent lives, while those who are associated with the 'right' tend to support an action that could harm the lives of innocent Palestinians. The assumption is that neither side is less sensitive to human life, our soldiers or Palestinians. If so, there is a dilemma here that is rooted in metaphysics, between looking at the persecutor as a collective or as an individual.[14]

I would like to point out that Rabbi Charlo, in his aforementioned article ('Tzohar' 11), also tries to find fault with the public, as part of the possible justification for harming them. He also has a simple assumption that it is not possible to harm a person without their personal fault.

As stated, according to the law, from the Bible and from the Bible, this is not true. From the Bible, it is clear that one should not just harm any innocent person. However, here the discussion revolves around a dilemma between risking the lives of our soldiers and harming the lives of innocent Palestinian civilians. It seems to me that from a moral perspective, collective responsibility should also be expressed here, and not only in that if anyone must bear responsibility for the criminal behavior of terrorists, it is not our soldiers, but, with all the sorrow and pain, the Palestinian civilians take precedence over them in this.

And in this chapter, we saw that collective punishment is not without foundation in the Torah's view. Although this appears mainly in divine punishments, I believe that this position can be adopted in relation to the minimalist dilemma we have presented here. If God harms even those who are not guilty, due to their mere belonging to a criminal collective, then we can at least argue that those who belong to a 'persecuting collective' have priority in their responsibility for our salvation over those who fight a war of self-defense against this collective.

[1] The main points of the theoretical analysis can also be found in the books 'Two Carts and a Hot Air Balloon', mainly in the fourth chapter of Chapter 2, and in Explanation 15 there.

[2] An important example in this context is the obligation of a dayan who erred, in certain cases, to 'pay from his own house.' There is never an obligation on the court (= the public) to pay the court from public funds. If there is such a halachic obligation, it is imposed only on the dayan. It seems to me that the phrase 'he shall pay from his own house' contains a strong allusion to the obligation of the public treasury.

Most of the evidence that Kurtzman brings in his article for the case is not necessary. The fact that the minority in the court is attached to the majority opinion (just as a minority of a prohibition becomes a permission in a mixture) does not necessarily mean that there is an independent legal entity here. In particular, even in the laws of the majority, this principle is not agreed upon (it is known that the Rashba disagrees with the Rosh presented in the article, and attaches the nullification of the minority in a mixture to the law of following the majority. The same is true of Mordechai, known as the Resh Sanhedrin, who speaks of the voice of the dayanim as 'dismissed' from the court and therefore nullified by the majority, and so on).

The conclusion that emerges regarding the court is that the minority is like someone who is not (as cited in the Tod "Kmal" Bk. 27b, cited there in note 11). Therefore, there are three judges here, but only one final opinion. However, there is not necessarily another legal entity here.

In handing over his notes to the court, Kurtzman argues, we see that the court is not a creditor of the debt and therefore the debt is not discharged in the seventh. Here too, this is not a necessary conclusion. The debt is not discharged because the judges of the court are not the debtor's true creditors. In this respect, handing over his notes to the court is very similar to the mortgage on the pledge that appears in the same mishnah in the seventh (10:2) as a debt that does not discharge. Although according to the PIZ, it seems possible to hand over the debt to a third person as well (cf. notes 20, 21 in his article, p.

And we are told that his subsequent evidence is also not necessary, and so on.

In general, I would say that two different claims must be distinguished: 1. There is a legal 'veil of incorporation' that distinguishes between the shareholders and the corporation they own. 2. The collection of shareholders can constitute a public, which in itself constitutes an independent and existing entity, and not just partners. As stated, the second claim is a simple halakhic claim. It can still be said that the first claim is incorrect. We could say that perhaps there is public ownership of the corporation's property here, but it is still not possible to separate the corporation from the public of owners. It seems to me that in the article in question these two claims are not sufficiently distinguished, and so on.

[3] See in the above-mentioned books, Bahara 15. An article by Prof. Rakover in 'Tekhumin' 16 on this subject. It is true that he discusses there only the whole of Israel, and not necessarily every group.

[4] Such confusion is also often present in discussions about the injustice inflicted on the Palestinians in the War of Independence, in the expulsions, etc. Many claim that they were not expelled. They fled in the hope of returning and reclaiming our property and territory. Even if this is true, attention should be paid to the fact that the sovereignty we tried to impose over their heads is the focus of the discussion, and not the theft of the lands from their owners. In this regard, the argument cannot be that we did not expel them, but rather that the establishment of the 'sovereign umbrella' over their heads is anchored in the rights that the Jewish people have over the entirety of the land, at the level of sovereignty. The level of private ownership must be examined on its own merits.

[5] In general 'spectacles', it seems to me that even the methodology of his argument is incorrect. It is not correct to compare the number of students for whom the current approach is suitable. This is itself a 'private' and not a 'general' view, and so on.

[6] Most of the 'dialogues' between the public and the PND are sterile and technical. For the PND, the influence of the Zionist-religious public on the image of the state is completely negligible, and therefore there is nothing to lose in this respect. I also do not see a necessary connection between the Teshuvah movement and isolation and renunciation of positive modern values, and therefore the second part of Rabbi Feuerstein's article for the PND is irrelevant.

The repeated claim about the arrogance of trying to convert someone is also puzzling to me. Saying that someone is wrong does not mean that they are stupid. Why can't I inform someone in the most respectful, yet direct, manner that I want to convert them by persuasion? If this is perceived as arrogance (and indeed, it often is), then we should try to clarify this point. Hidden here is a postmodern position that does not believe in truths and the ability to argue about them at all. For the sake of justice, we would be better off rallying to combat this puzzling attitude (for example, by pointing out the fear and isolation that such an attitude expresses, in contrast to the prevailing secular ethos), rather than trying to convince ourselves of it (see my aforementioned book, especially the fourth chapter).

[7] I also disagree with Dr. Walvolsky's positions, but, as we know, it is possible to base a correct position on incorrect reasons, and so on.

[8] See 'Amud Yamini', 16th century, and in the summary in the Ha-Hag from the collection 'At the Crossroads of the Torah and the State'.

[9] And here we must discuss the statements of the poskim (see Kasam Rotesh Pa"a 14 and others) who obligate a person to risk his life to save his friend in a case where the harm is uncertain. It also seems to these poskim that the other person's life is not enslaved to saving my own.

[10] There are also different levels in the law of persecutor: persecutor in a case of adultery, rape, etc. (see Rabbi Yisraeli, ibid.). In Rambam, a murderer speaks of a fetus, when it is inside it is called a persecutor and the authorities kill it in order to save the mother. And when its head comes out, no one is spared a soul for a soul. And they made it difficult for him if he persecutes the authorities to kill it even if it is a real person.

And it is said that he pursues without intention (and in the same verse: "He pursued him.") In such a situation, there is no permissibility of the prohibition of "thou shalt not murder." Therefore, in the fetus, for which there is no such severe prohibition, it is permissible to kill it. However, when its head is removed, it is indeed subject to rescue, but the prohibition of "thou shalt not murder" has not expired (it expires only in the case of intentional pursuit).

The meaning of the Maimonides' division, according to our words, is as follows: In the case of property, we find that there are two levels of discussion: the legal and the forbidden. However, according to the Garash, it is not possible to separate them. In other words, there is no prohibition of 'you shall not steal' without a legal determination of who owns the property (thus settling the well-known Mahari Basan question of why one should not be strict in a case of property, and not lenient to the defendant). It is not possible for the property to be legally mine, and in 27 I will pass over 'you shall not steal'. The opposite situation is possible, for example, with a gentile, whose property is legally his, but there is no prohibition of 'you shall not steal.' In contrast, in the case of souls, we again see that there are two levels of discussion, but here these are two separate laws, and each can appear without the other. In a fetus whose head was removed, there is a servitude of its soul to save the persecuted mother, and in 27 the prohibition of murder was not permitted.

The reason for this is that the prohibition against stealing is between a person and his fellow man, and therefore the monetary determination establishes the prohibition. However, in murder there is also a dimension between a person and a place, and therefore the prohibition exists even without the dimension between a person and his fellow man.

And this will clarify what the Rishonim disagreed about Rashi in Mamonot and Maimonides in Persecution of Souls (see 'Afiki Yam' there). It is clear that the KJV has two such levels. The debate is not about the question of whether there are two levels, but about the question of whether they depend on the ZBZ or not, and Akmal.

[11] This is truly an example of the danger of the 'screen of association' that Kurtzman raised, and of my reference to it above.

[12] Perhaps such a dimension can be seen in the remote city, at least for some of the methods, but this is not simple, and it requires thorough investigation, and a radar.

[13] This could be explained by the fact that the G.M. brings this principle to teach us something. If it did not concern human considerations, but only the laws of Heaven, there would be no point in bringing it. This interpretive principle should also be considered, and so on.

[14] In my aforementioned book, I explained that the 'left' is based on private observation, one that breaks down the whole into its details ('law'). While the 'right' is rooted in general observation ('kindness'), and is based on length.