A Mathematical Perspective on Consequentialist Ethics – The Halakhic Angle (Column 254)
From the moral angle to the halakhic angle: why turn to Hakhel at all
The essay continues the discussion from the previous columns about collective actions. There the conclusion was that one cannot ground moral obligation in such cases on ordinary consequentialism, because the contribution of the individual is usually negligible; if there is still an obligation, it must be deontological. Here, the rabbi seeks to show that a similar structure exists in halakhah as well, through an analysis of the commandment of Hakhel.
Hakhel as a striking exception: why women are obligated although it is time-bound
The Gemara in Kiddushin lists Hakhel among the exceptions to the rule that women are exempt from time-bound positive commandments. Sefer HaChinukh, who normally states at the end of each mitzvah to whom it applies, does not do so here in his usual formula; instead, he opens the mitzvah by describing how “all Israel, men, women, and children” assemble. The essay suggests that this is not a technical detail but a clue to the definition of the mitzvah: this is not a duty addressed separately to men, women, and minors, but an address to the collective as a whole, which therefore includes everyone who belongs to it.
Are the children themselves obligated, or only those who bring them
The Gemara in Chagigah says that the children come “in order to give reward to those who bring them.” Minchat Chinukh understands this to mean that the obligation rests on the father or the court to bring the child, not on the child himself; therefore even a deaf child can be brought, since there is no listening obligation on him. Turei Even, by contrast, discusses the issue as though the minor himself has a connection to the obligation, while the practical responsibility to bring him rests on the father or on the court. His discussion of land ownership shows that, in his view, the children should not be seen merely as objects brought in order to earn reward, but as those included in the mitzvah itself. The essay does not merely choose between two local readings; it uses the dispute to uncover a model in which the obligation itself can be distinguished from responsibility for its implementation.
Slaves, exemptions from pilgrimage, and the boundaries of the “assembly”
Rambam rules that anyone exempt from appearing on the festival pilgrimage is also exempt from Hakhel, except for women, children, and the uncircumcised. Lechem Mishneh infers from this that slaves are exempt from Hakhel, even though with respect to many individual commandments there is an analogy between them and women. The explanation the essay offers is that Hakhel is not a private mitzvah but a mitzvah of “when all Israel comes”: women are included because they are limbs of the collective of Israel, whereas slaves are not part of that collective as long as they have not converted. For the same reason, those who are not members of the assembly in a substantive sense, such as the deaf-mute, the mute, and the mentally incompetent, are not included in this public obligation.
The conceptual model: a public mitzvah that obligates the collective, not individuals as individuals
This is the essay’s central claim. Hakhel is a mitzvah whose addressee is the public itself. Therefore, the ordinary rule exempting women from time-bound positive commandments is irrelevant here: that exemption concerns duties imposed on a woman as an individual, whereas here the command is not addressed to the individual but to the public. Since women and minors are part of the public, they enter into the public obligation. This also explains why Sefer HaChinukh and Rambam incorporate women’s obligation into the basic description of the mitzvah, and why Behag counts Hakhel among the commandments entrusted to the public. The essay suggests that this may also explain why women are obligated in building the Temple, even though that too seems, at least prima facie, to be a time-dependent commandment.
From educating children to Hakhel: obligation and responsibility do not always lie with the same party
To sharpen this structure, the essay brings the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot regarding the law of education: is the minor himself rabbinically obligated in mitzvot, or is only the father obligated to educate him. According to Tosafot, it makes sense to speak of an obligation on the child himself, but responsibility for fulfillment rests on the father, and in his absence on the court. From here a general model emerges: the obligation may belong to one party, while the practical responsibility and the punishment for non-fulfillment belong to another. This explains both Turei Even’s discussion of the children and the possibility of saying that in a collective mitzvah the individual is not the direct addressee of the duty, yet still bears responsibility for its realization.
The two “pathologies” of a collective mitzvah: the public fulfills it, the individual can still negate it
The essay highlights two sharp innovations. First, it may be that the collective is what is obligated in the mitzvah, but if a given individual does not participate, he is still considered to have neglected a positive commandment, even if the ציבור as a whole still fulfilled it. Second, it may be that the party who is responsible and punished is not the one on whom the primary obligation rests. Just as in education, where the child may be obligated but the father is responsible, so too in Hakhel: the public is obligated, but without personal responsibility on each individual there would be no way to ensure that the public duty is actually realized. This is the halakhic formulation of the problem of collective action: without imposing responsibility on individuals, the “pot of partners” will never heat up.
Torah reading as a parallel example: a public mitzvah with personal responsibility to participate
The essay illustrates this structure through Torah reading, which is understood as a reenactment of the giving of the Torah and therefore as a duty of the public. Following Ramban, it distinguishes this from the reading of Megillah: in Megillah, this is an individual obligation that must be performed in the presence of ten, whereas in Torah reading the obligation rests on the ten themselves. Even so, if the obligation is public, that does not mean the individual may leave and abandon the public. On the contrary: as long as there is a public reading, each individual has a responsibility to remain and participate—not because he fulfills the mitzvah by himself, but because if he evades participation he fails in his responsibility toward the collective fulfillment.
The conclusion: halakhah affirms the logic of the categorical imperative in collective actions
At the end, the rabbi connects the halakhic analysis back to the philosophical conclusion. Even when the act of the individual has no perceptible effect, he is not exempt from joining in the good act or refraining from the bad act done by the public. The responsibility follows from his being part of the collective, not from his marginal contribution to the outcome. Therefore, in halakhah too, obligation in situations of collective action rests on deontological logic: a person must act in a way that could be a universal law, not merely according to a local calculation of outcomes. In that sense, Hakhel is halakhic evidence for the validity of the categorical imperative.
With God’s help
In the previous two columns I described the efforts of Parfit and Kagan to find a utilitarian basis for morality and defend it against the challenges posed by dilemmas of collective action. My conclusion was that there is no way to do this, and in the final analysis, if one believes that there is a moral duty in a collective context, there is no escaping a deontological ethics of the Kantian sort and his categorical imperative. Because of the lively interest in the previous two columns, and because of my craving for ratings, I decided to take into account the vibrant community interested in mathematical perspectives on consequentialist ethics (=the empty set), and to post a third column in the series, in which I will examine the question of collective action from the halakhic angle.[1]
Women’s Obligation in the Commandment of Hakhel
The Talmud in Kiddushin 36b cites a baraita regarding women’s exemption from positive time-bound commandments:
All positive time-bound commandments, etc. The Rabbis taught: What is a positive time-bound commandment? Sukkah, lulav, shofar, tzitzit, and tefillin. And what is a positive commandment that is not time-bound? Mezuzah, a parapet, returning a lost item, and sending away the mother bird.
It then raises an objection from the commandment of Hakhel, in which women are obligated despite the fact that it is time-bound:
But is this a universal principle? There is matzah, rejoicing, and Hakhel, which are positive time-bound commandments, and yet women are obligated in them! And furthermore, there are Torah study, procreation, and redeeming the firstborn son, which are not positive time-bound commandments, and yet women are exempt from them! Rabbi Yohanan said: One does not derive law from general rules, even in a case where it says “except,” as we learned: One may establish an eruv with anything and participate in a shared eruv with anything, except for water and salt. Are there no others? But there are truffles and mushrooms! Rather, one does not derive law from general rules, even in a case where it says “except.”
I am very fond of this Talmudic passage, because it expresses the proper attitude toward rules (treat them with respect, but with suspicion). But beyond the question of rules, even if we accept that Hakhel is an exception, we still have to ask why.
The Chinukh
The Chinukh counts this commandment as no. 612. At the end of the entry, where he usually notes who is obligated in a given commandment (men, women, and the like), he does not address the question of who is obligated here. Apparently he relies on the passage with which he opens his discussion there:
We were commanded that the entire people of Israel — men, women, and children — be assembled at the conclusion of the Sabbatical year, on the festival of Sukkot, on the second day of the festival, and that portions from the book of Deuteronomy, namely “These are the words,” be read aloud in their ears. Concerning this it is said (Deuteronomy 31:12): “Assemble the people, the men, the women, and the children,” etc. This is the commandment of Hakhel mentioned in the Talmud, as they said at the beginning of Kiddushin (34a): “But Hakhel is a positive time-bound commandment, and women are obligated in it.” And they explained at the end of the discussion: “One does not derive law from general rules” — meaning that indeed women are obligated in this commandment.
And indeed, in this paragraph he also mentions the Talmud’s objection in Kiddushin, which is also cited by Maimonides. Apparently this is where the passage dealing with the question of who is obligated is found. We see here that in this commandment everyone is obligated: men, women, and children.
However, at the end of his discussion he writes, as he does regarding all the other commandments:
This applies to both men and women; anyone who does not come at this appointed time to hear the words of the Torah transgresses this commandment, and likewise if the king does not wish to read, he has negated this positive commandment. Their punishment is very great, for this commandment is a mighty pillar and a great honor in the religion.
That is, he notes that both man and woman are obligated in this commandment, but he writes this only with respect to the punishment of one who violated it, not as a statement of who is obligated in it. In positive commandments the Chinukh always writes in a fixed formula, such as: And it applies everywhere and at all times, to males and females. (“it applies everywhere and at all times to males and females”). Only afterward does he write who violates it and what the punishment is. Here he mentions only who violates the commandment, not who is obligated in it. Again we see that he relied on what he had written at the beginning of his discussion. Perhaps this is why he does not mention the children here. If his remarks concern punishment, then even if minors are indeed commanded, they certainly are not subject to punishment.
The Obligation of the Children
Regarding the obligation of children in Hakhel, the Talmud in Chagigah 3a-b says as follows:
The Rabbis taught: An incident occurred with Rabbi Yohanan ben Beroka and Rabbi Eleazar ben Hasma, who went to greet Rabbi Yehoshua in Peki’in. He said to them: What novel teaching was presented today in the study hall? They said to him: We are your students, and we drink from your waters. He said to them: Even so, the study hall cannot be without some new teaching. Whose Sabbath was it? — It was the Sabbath of Rabbi Eleazar ben Azariah. — And what was the aggadic discourse about today? They said to him: About the section of Hakhel. — And what did he expound on it? “Assemble the people, the men, the women, and the children” (Deuteronomy 31). If the men come to learn, and the women come to hear, why do the children come? In order to grant reward to those who bring them. — He said to them: You had a precious pearl in your hands, and you sought to withhold it from me! — He further expounded: “You have affirmed the Lord today… and the Lord has affirmed you today” (Deuteronomy 26). The Holy One, blessed be He, said to Israel: You have made Me a unique entity in the world, and I will make you a unique entity in the world. You have made Me a unique entity in the world, as it is written: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One” (Deuteronomy 6); and I will make you a unique entity in the world, as it is said: “And who is like Your people Israel, one nation on earth” (I Chronicles 17).
At first glance, this is not speaking about a commandment imposed on the minor himself, since he is not yet of age for commandments (as the Talmud there explicitly says regarding appearance and the festival offering). The Talmud says here that the children are brought in order to give reward to those who bring them. Apparently those who bring them are the ones obligated to bring the children, not the children themselves. This is what the Minchat Chinukh writes in sec. 4, s.v. ‘ve-taf’.[2]
There, later on, the Minchat Chinukh concludes from this that although a deaf person is exempt from commandments, a deaf child is nevertheless obligated in Hakhel, since the obligation is on his father, not on himself.[3] His assumption is that the minor is not obligated to hear, only to come. Only the father is the one who hears. And perhaps women too have no obligation to hear (for they are exempt from Torah study), but only to come.
By contrast, the Turei Even on Chagigah seems to understand otherwise. He investigates there whether the commandment is imposed on the father or on the religious court, and does not decide the matter:
“In order to grant reward to those who bring them.” It has not been clarified to me upon whom the obligation to bring the children rests: whether specifically upon the father, or also upon the religious court. And if you say that it is specifically upon the father — after all, above he derives that those exempt from appearing are exempt from Hakhel through the verbal analogy of “appearance” “appearance,” and below he also says that for this reason “males” is written, to exclude women with regard to appearance, so that we should not derive it from Hakhel. If so, then conversely as well, those exempt from appearance should be exempt from Hakhel through this verbal analogy. But in the first chapter of Pesachim (8a), Rabbi Ami said: one who has no land is exempt from appearance, and it seems to me that this is derived from “and no man shall covet your land.” Certainly the verse is particular about land in the Land of Israel, and if so, the same should apply that he is exempt from Hakhel. Now, if the Hakhel obligation regarding children applies specifically to the father, from where would a child have land in the Land of Israel if his father is alive? Perforce, we are speaking of a case where his father died and he inherited land from him, for the verse of Hakhel is written without qualification, implying even at a time when the Jubilee is observed. Moreover, the Sabbatical year is mentioned in the section of Hakhel, and there is one opinion in the fourth chapter of Gittin (36a) that the Sabbatical year applies only when the Jubilee applies. Certainly one should not be stricter with a child than with an adult, who is exempt when he has no land. Since there would be no reason to obligate children in Hakhel except in a case where their father died and they inherited, it follows that the obligation rests on the religious court. This is not a proof, for one can always say that we are speaking of a case where his father is alive, and nevertheless one can still have a case where he has land in the Land of Israel: for example, where his mother died and she was an inheriting daughter, and he inherited from her and not his father, according to the opinion that a husband’s inheritance is rabbinic. Alternatively, where he was born from a raped woman, according to all opinions. Or where she was divorced. And know that this is so, for with regard to Hakhel it is written, “and your stranger”; but from where would a convert have land in the Land of Israel? If he bought it, then according to the opinion that usufruct rights are not like ownership of the property itself, it is not called “your land,” as stated at the end of the fourth chapter of Gittin (48a). And if he married an Israelite woman who was an heiress and inherited from her, according to the opinion that a husband’s inheritance is rabbinic, what can be said? Rather, perforce, we are speaking of a convert whose father and mother converted from among Israelites and from whom he inherited.
In the course of his remarks here he brings proof from the fact that a minor does not own land, and therefore clearly cannot be obligated in Hakhel (because only landowners are obligated in this commandment). The only possibility, in his view, is that the minor inherited land from his father, and that is how he owns land. But in such a case it follows that his father has died (for otherwise how did he inherit from him?), and if the obligation is only on the father to bring his son, then how is the son now obligated in Hakhel?! The father is dead, and the son himself is not obligated. From this he proves that the obligation to bring the child rests on the religious court. He then rejects this, suggesting that perhaps it is speaking of a case where his mother died, according to the view that a husband’s inheritance is only rabbinic.
But in light of the above remarks of the Minchat Chinukh, this proof simply does not exist. It is clear that the minor need not satisfy the same requirements as the adult does (just as he may be deaf).[4] Even if there is a requirement that a person own land in order to be obligated in Hakhel, there is no reason to apply that requirement to the child as well. After all, no obligation in the commandment rests on him personally.
It seems from here that the Turei Even understands the obligation to rest on the minor himself, not on the father. What the Talmud in Chagigah says—that this is to give reward to those who bring them—is apparently only the reason why an obligation was imposed on a minor (in order to give reward to those who bring him), but now there is also an obligation on him himself. Put differently: if the child does not come, the complaints will be directed at the father or at the religious court, since they are the ones who are supposed to ensure the minor’s coming. But the obligation to come rests on the minor himself. This is not a commandment on the father but on the minor himself. This is in contrast to the view of the Minchat Chinukh, which we saw understands the basic obligation to rest on the father/religious court, not on the minor.
At this point one may still wonder why the Turei Even speaks about an obligation on the father or on the religious court. If the obligated party is indeed the minor himself, then what do the parents or the court have to do with the matter? We will explain this below.
Slaves
We have dealt with minors and women. But what about slaves? Maimonides, Laws of Chagigah, at the beginning of chapter 3, writes as follows:
A. It is a positive commandment to assemble all Israel — men, women, and children — after every Sabbatical year, when they ascend for the pilgrimage festival, and to read in their ears sections from the Torah that encourage them in the commandments and strengthen their commitment to the true religion, as it is said: “At the end of seven years, at the appointed time of the year of the Sabbatical year, on the festival of Sukkot, when all Israel comes to appear… assemble the people, the men, the women, and the children, and your stranger who is within your gates,” etc.
B. Anyone exempt from appearance is exempt from the commandment of Hakhel, except for women, children, and an uncircumcised person. However, one who is ritually impure is exempt from the commandment of Hakhel, as it is said, “when all Israel comes,” and this person is not fit to come. It is clear that a tumtum and an androgynous person are obligated, since women are obligated.
There is an analogy between those exempt from the pilgrimage appearance obligation and those exempt from Hakhel (we saw this as well in the Turei Even’s proof above), in one direction. But there are people exempt from appearance who are not exempt from Hakhel (women, children, and the uncircumcised). The commandment of Hakhel is more inclusive. This implies that slaves are exempt from Hakhel.
And indeed this is how the Lechem Mishneh understands it, there on halakhah 2, and he raises the following question:
Anyone exempt from appearing is exempt from the commandment of Hakhel, except for women, children, and an uncircumcised person, etc. And if you ask: why did he not also say “except for slaves,” for in the first chapter of Chagigah (4a), regarding appearance, we say: why do I need a verse? After all, any commandment that a woman is obligated in, a slave is obligated in as well, etc., for we derive it from the woman, etc. One may answer that here it is different, for the verse says, “when all Israel comes to appear,” which implies that slaves are exempt, as our master of blessed memory wrote above. Nevertheless, perhaps our master of blessed memory found this proof elsewhere, for in our Talmud it does not seem so, since it says only: from where do we know this about slaves? And it goes back to seek a verse from “the presence of the Lord,” and does not mention this verse at all; I have already written about this above. And as for what our master of blessed memory wrote, that anyone exempt from appearance is exempt from Hakhel — he derives it from what is said there in the first chapter of Chagigah, that we derive “appearance” with regard to appearance from “appearance” with regard to Hakhel.[5]
Obligations Imposed on Minors[6]
How can obligations be imposed on a minor? Here we find a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot (see Kehillot Yaakov, Sukkah, sec. 2) in various passages (in Berakhot 48a and 20a, and in the parallel passage in Megillah). The discussion concerns whether a minor who is obligated in commandments by virtue of education (which is a rabbinic law) can discharge the obligation of an adult, at least one whose obligation in that commandment is itself only rabbinic.
As noted, Rashi and Tosafot disagree about this. According to Tosafot, the obligation is on the minor himself, and therefore he is like one who is obligated in the commandment on a rabbinic level, and can discharge an adult when the adult too is obligated only on a rabbinic level (for example, grace after meals for one who did not eat to satiety). By contrast, according to Rashi, the obligation is on the father to educate his son, but not on the minor, since it is impossible to impose halakhic obligations on minors. They are not yet subject to commandments.
Thus, in Tosafot we find the possibility that halakhic obligations can in fact be imposed on minors. Admittedly, there the issue is the rabbinic obligation of education, but it is still a principled source for the idea that demands can indeed be made of minors. And yet it is still clear that the father is the one who is supposed to ensure that the minor fulfills his obligations, and when the father is not present the obligation passes to the religious court, just as in the commandment of Hakhel.[7]
Explaining Women’s Obligation in Hakhel and the Other Difficulties
This is the place to return to the question with which we opened. Why does the commandment of Hakhel depart from the rule, such that women are obligated in it even though it is time-bound? The answer is that the commandment of Hakhel is imposed on the collective as a whole. It is not a commandment imposed on each member of the collective separately, and therefore the entire collective is obligated to fulfill it. This commandment is imposed on the collective, not directly on the individuals who make it up.
Now we can understand all the difficulties we raised. Women, as individuals, should indeed have been exempt from this commandment because it is time-bound, but this commandment does not address private individuals. It addresses the collective, and therefore everyone who belongs to it becomes obligated to fulfill it. Here there is no room to exempt women, since the collective is obligated in this commandment as a whole. For this reason minors too can be obligated in the commandment, since they too belong to the collective. True, as individuals one cannot direct halakhic obligations at them, but when the commandment obligates the collective, everyone who belongs to it is thereby obligated. This is probably the reasoning of the Turei Even cited above.
We saw that the author of the Chinukh does not write who is obligated in the commandment, because in its very definition it appears that it obligates the collective as a whole, and therefore all the individuals who belong to it. There is no point in writing, as he usually does, that it applies to males and females. Neither the males nor the females are obligated in it. The collective is obligated in it, and therefore everyone included within it.
This is also the explanation of the remarks of the Lechem Mishneh and Maimonides: women are included because they are part of the collective, but slaves are not included in the collective, and therefore they are not obligated in the commandment of Hakhel. This is the verse he cites: When all Israel comes; whoever is included in the Jewish people is obligated in the commandment, and whoever is not included is not. The analogy between slave and woman applies with respect to obligations imposed on the woman as an individual, and there the analogy to a slave is perfect. But with respect to obligations of the collective, the woman as an individual is indeed not obligated in them, and therefore there is no room for analogy to the slave. The woman is obligated in them as a member of the collective, and the slave is not such a member, so long as he has not converted.
It seems that for this reason those exempt from the pilgrimage appearance obligation are obligated in Hakhel, except for the deaf, the mute, and the mentally incompetent. The problem with these three is that they are not included in the assembly (some because of lack of communication and some because of lack of understanding, and I will not elaborate), and therefore they cannot become obligated as part of it.
We have now found the essential feature of the commandment of Hakhel that causes it to be exceptional. This is a public commandment, and therefore women are obligated in it even though it is time-bound. And indeed Behag counts the commandment of Hakhel among the commandments imposed on the collective (=the sections), as the last one (65):
These are the passages of statutes and ordinances entrusted to the community: … (65) the passage of Hakhel. These are the sixty-five passages…
The addressee of the commandment is the collective, not the individuals included within it.
In fact, the matter is already explicit in the verses: Assemble all the people… The inclusion of the men, women, and children comes immediately afterward, because that is a consequence of directing the commandment to the collective as a whole. Perhaps for this reason Maimonides and the Chinukh found it appropriate to mention the law obligating women in Hakhel in the basic description of the commandment, since that law expresses the essential nature of this commandment.
A Parallel Example: The Commandment to Build the Temple
Something similar is explained by later authorities with respect to the commandment to build the Temple. Maimonides and the Chinukh write that women are obligated in it, and later authorities find this difficult, because it is forbidden to build the Temple at night. That is, it is a positive time-bound commandment, and yet women are obligated in it (although it does not appear in the lists of exceptions brought in the baraita from the Talmud above, and this is not the place for that discussion). It may be that here too the explanation is that the commandment to build the Temple is imposed on the collective as a whole, and therefore the individuals included within it are thereby obligated. Hence there is no room here to exempt women because of the time dependence, exactly as I explained regarding Hakhel.
Two Halakhic Anomalies
The great novelty is that the Chinukh, at the end of his remarks, still sees fit to note that one who violates this commandment has thereby nullified this positive commandment, and that his deed is grave. In other words, there is an additional novelty here: although the obligated party in the commandment is the collective, if some individual does not fulfill the commandment he nullifies it. How can it be that, although that individual is not the obligated agent (since the collective is the one obligated), he is nevertheless considered the responsible party for fulfillment of the commandment, and is therefore also punished for its non-fulfillment?
Let me sharpen the point further. If all Israel go up to Jerusalem for the Hakhel ceremony, then the commandment has certainly been fulfilled. Now suppose Yosef ben Shimon did not go up with them to Jerusalem. Has he nullified the commandment? Seemingly not, since he is not the party obligated in the commandment; the collective is, and the collective did indeed fulfill it. But just as the parents or the religious court are responsible for fulfillment of commandments by minors, so the individuals included within the collective are responsible for fulfillment of the commandment of the collective. This means that although a private individual cannot fulfill the commandment (at most he can be included in its collective fulfillment),[8] he certainly can nullify it.
This is a pathological situation in which a commandment can be fulfilled (by the public) and at the same time nullified (by a particular individual). And from another angle we see here yet another anomaly: the party obligated in the commandment is not the party responsible, who is punished for its non-fulfillment. This is also what we saw above in the discussion of the law of education. There too we saw that there is a difference between the one obligated in the commandment and the one who is supposed to ensure its fulfillment. The one obligated in the commandment is the minor himself, but responsibility is not imposed on him, since he still lacks sufficient responsibility. Therefore the Torah or the sages place the responsibility on the father or on the religious court. Although the minor is the one obligated in the commandment, the one who will be punished if the minor does not fulfill his obligation is the father or the religious court, not the minor himself.
We can now understand why the author of the Chinukh does not mention minors among those who nullify the commandment if they do not come to Jerusalem for Hakhel. The reason is that even if the Turei Even is right that they are obligated in the commandment, responsibility for its fulfillment certainly does not rest on them, but on the parents or the religious court. Therefore they cannot be counted among those punished for nullifying the commandment. And in fact the Turei Even himself, although he sees minors as personally obligated in the commandment of Hakhel, places the responsibility to bring them on the father or on the religious court.
More on the Split Between Duty and Responsibility
We saw that with duties imposed on minors, responsibility rests on the parents or on the religious court. Why? Because one cannot impose responsibility on the minor himself. If so, a similar problem exists with duties imposed on the collective: A pot owned by partners is neither hot nor cold. (“a partners’ pot is neither hot nor cold”). If we do not impose responsibility on the individuals, the collective will certainly not fulfill its duty. If each individual allows himself not to take part in fulfilling the collective duty, then the public too will fail to fulfill it (for the public is nothing but the collection of individuals). This responsibility receives halakhic expression in the fact that the individual can nullify this positive commandment. That is the whip that ensures that he will fulfill his responsibility. You can already see here the effect of collective duties that was discussed in the previous columns.
The author of the Kehillot Yaakov there brings the view of Tosafot on Berakhot 48a that the obligation of education rests on the minor himself, and adds that in Nazir 29 Reish Lakish and Rabbi Yohanan disagree as to whether there is an obligation of education on the mother or only on the father. Seemingly it is proven from there that there is an obligation on the parents and not only on the minor himself, contrary to Tosafot. And indeed, this is why Rashi held that the obligation rests only on the parents and not on the minor. According to Tosafot, the author of the Kehillot Yaakov explains, there are two distinct laws in education: an obligation of the father to educate his son, and an obligation on the son to keep the commandments.
This is a technical-analytic formulation, but on its face it seems difficult: where did these two laws come from? Were there two separate enactments regarding education? It seems that what he means is what we wrote above: there is indeed an obligation on the minor, but it is impossible to demand from him the responsibility to fulfill that obligation, since he is a minor. That responsibility is imposed on the parents. We can now understand why there are not two enactments here, but only one. On our approach, these are two sides of the same coin: the obligation is on the minor, but there is no choice except to place the responsibility on the father.[9]
An Example from the Commandment of Torah Reading
Above we identified two novelties in the commandment of Hakhel and similar cases: 1. It is a commandment whose addressee is the collective rather than the individuals. 2. Even when the addressee is the collective, responsibility for fulfillment rests on each individual. In this section we will demonstrate these two novelties with respect to Torah reading.
There are several proofs that the commandment of Torah reading is a reenactment of the giving of the Torah. Therefore it is a commandment imposed on the collective, since it was the collective that received the Torah. But there are two kinds of public commandments that require ten. The Mishnah in Megillah 23b does not count megillah reading among the things that require ten, but it does count Torah reading. Nachmanides, in the Milhamot there, explains that Megillah is a commandment imposed on the individual, only it must be done within a group of ten. By contrast, Torah reading is a commandment imposed on the ten themselves. The halakhic implication is that Megillah may be read together with nine others who have already read it, whereas Torah reading may not.
Usually the following practical difference is cited between these two possibilities: if the commandment is public, then the individual may leave the reading in the middle, leaving the collective to fulfill its duty. In that situation the collective, which is the addressee of the commandment, will fulfill the duty imposed on it, whereas he as an individual is not obligated, and therefore there should be no impediment to his leaving and not reading at all. In the case of Megillah, at least according to Nachmanides, this is of course impossible.
But in light of the picture we have drawn thus far, the reader certainly understands that this is not necessary. It may be said that even in Torah reading, which is a duty imposed on the collective, a person is forbidden to leave the synagogue. As we saw regarding the commandment of Hakhel, the commandment is indeed imposed on the collective, but responsibility for the collective’s fulfillment of its duty is imposed on the individual. If every individual leaves and we do not impose responsibility on them, the public commandment will not be fulfilled. Because of this, each individual must remain and participate in Torah reading. Put differently: the individual who remains for the reading is not fulfilling a commandment, but if he leaves he nullifies the commandment, exactly as we saw above regarding Hakhel.
And indeed this can be seen in the Mishnah Berurah. In sec. 135 he discusses bringing a Torah scroll to someone who does not have one (in prison), and there he explains that the obligation of reading does not apply to the individual when there are not ten there. That is, Torah reading is an obligation on the collective and not on the individual. On the other hand, in the laws of Torah reading, he asks in the Bi’ur Halakhah about the Behag, who explains that if there are ten in the synagogue he may turn his face away. The Bi’ur Halakhah asks: where did that person fulfill his commandment? That is, he assumes that there is an obligation on every individual even in Torah reading. Seemingly there is a contradiction between the two sources.
It is customary to explain his view along the lines of the above Nachmanides: the obligation of Torah reading rests on each individual, except that it must be done with ten. But perhaps the explanation is different: when there is a public that is reading, responsibility rests on each individual, and therefore he may not leave (just as he may not remain at home in the case of Hakhel). But when there is no public, then truly no obligation rests on the individual to read.
The commandment of Hakhel is like the commandment of Torah reading, except that it is not with ten but with all Israel. It is a reenactment of the giving of the Torah, and therefore the duty is public, but the responsibility for it rests on each individual within the public.
Commandments and Collectives
If we return to the line of argument in these columns, it seems to me that the meaning of this halakhic distinction is the following: within the framework of collective actions there is a duty even on the individual to act as part of the public. True, we are dealing with situations in which his personal contribution is not noticeable, but if every individual shirks his duty (because his effect is not noticeable), the collective result will not come about either. Conversely, when the public commits a transgression (causes harm or suffering), the individual there too is not exempt from responsibility merely because his marginal contribution is negligible. He is part of the collective, and as such he bears responsibility for its actions (unless he himself did what was incumbent on him, with or without effect).[10]
All of these are in fact proofs of the validity of the categorical imperative in Jewish law. In my article on this subject I argued on the basis of reason that this principle has halakhic force, and I showed several of its implications, but here we see it more clearly. This is a complementary halakhic perspective on our conclusion from the previous two columns: the moral duty cannot be based on consequentialist considerations (except perhaps for rule consequentialism, which, as I showed in the previous column, is despite its name actually a deontological approach). Here we see a similar phenomenon in Jewish law as well. The act of the individual has no significance, and yet there is still a consideration of the categorical imperative that says he must act in a way fit to become universal law. This is evidence that within Jewish law the categorical imperative has force.
[1] The source of these remarks is a Middah Tovah article from 5767, for the portion Nitzavim-Vayelekh (see there from chapter 2 onward).
[2] This of course solves the problem we raised above regarding the omission in the Chinukh, although as we saw there is no need for that solution.
[3] See on this in a footnote in our article on the portion Vayelekh, 5765.
[4] The Minchat Chinukh himself, later in his remarks, cites this Turei Even and is puzzled by it.
[5] It should be noted against him that he prefers the analogy of slaves to women over the analogy between Hakhel and appearance. Seemingly, one might have derived that slaves are exempt because of the analogy to appearance, which is preferable to the analogy to women. In the end, the Lechem Mishneh explains that this is an exclusion derived from the verse When all Israel comes (as in ch. 2, halakhah 1 regarding appearance).
[6] See on this, from another angle, in the Middah Tovah article on the portion of Noah, 5767.
[7] And seemingly from here there is another refutation of the Turei Even’s proof, for it may be that the obligation is on the father, and only when he dies does it pass to the religious court. True, there is no basic obligation on the father, since as long as he is alive the son has no land (on the Turei Even’s initial assumption).
[8] Therefore a private individual who goes off on a Don Quixote war to conquer the Land of Israel most likely does not fulfill a commandment. This is a commandment imposed on the collective, and therefore the individual cannot fulfill it. At most he can nullify it (if he does not participate in the war the collective conducts).
[9] These matters are connected to several earlier articles in that year’s Middah Tovah series. In the article on the portion of Genesis, views were brought according to which no obligation is imposed on the father to circumcise his son, but only an obligation to see to it that his son be circumcised. This is responsibility without obligation and without the possibility of fulfilling the commandment. The commandment of circumcision is imposed on the son, but the responsibility for carrying it out is imposed on the father. In the article on the portion of Vayeshev we discussed the distinction between discharging an obligation and fulfilling a commandment (see also the article on the portion of Beshalach from another angle). The claim there was that a minor is capable of fulfilling a commandment, but cannot discharge an obligation, since no obligation rests on him (see Hiddushei R. Chaim on Maimonides, Laws of the Passover Offering ch. 5, on a minor who came of age between the two Passovers).
[10] This subject is also connected to the question of the ontological status of the public. Is it nothing more than a collection of individuals, or does it have an independent status? We have addressed this question in various columns in the past (209, 76, 67, 43, 34, and others), and also in my Middah Tovah articles from that year, on the portions Ki Tisa and Beha’alotekha. See also my article in Tzohar 14, and note 15 in the book Shtei Agalot VeKadur Pore’ach.
Discussion
If you’re stuck there – you’d better be careful. Those guys are about to slaughter one of themselves in order to eat him. 🙂
As for your question, I wrote several articles about this, and there is indeed a difference. “Be killed rather than transgress” is not relevant here, because it speaks of a situation in which I am required to harm an uninvolved person in order to save myself. He would not die if I did not harm him, and therefore they say to me: “Who says your blood is redder?” But here, all of them are going to die if nothing is done. So the lottery does not cause one of them to die; on the contrary, it is what gives each of them a (very good) chance of surviving. Therefore here they would all agree to hold such a lottery. About this it was not said, “Be killed rather than transgress.”
When gentiles demand, “Hand over one of you, and if not we will kill all of you,” that ostensibly resembles our case. And indeed, the Kesef Mishneh and the other commentaries in ch. 5 of Hilkhot Yesodei HaTorah raise this difficulty. And in my article I explained (following an article by Anker) that in that case we are dealing with the laws of sanctifying and desecrating God’s name (submitting to the demands of terrorists), not the laws of murder and preservation of life. And indeed, this law appears in Hilkhot Yesodei HaTorah and not in Hilkhot Rotze’ach u’Shemirat HaNefesh.
Therefore there is definitely a halakhic difference between the two situations. The tyrant is a terrorist, and his law is like the case of “Hand over one of you,” where one may not hand anyone over. But those who are stranded on a mountain have no one threatening them, and there is no issue of surrendering to terror and desecrating God’s name. There one proceeds according to the laws of murder and preservation of life, and those certainly say to save as much as possible (consequentialism).
We learned that not surrendering to terror is a value for the sake of which life is set aside. Why is murder (a person being a murderer) not such a value? It seems that this is what the negative intuitions are aimed at.
Because this is not murder. Think of a person standing on a balcony in a burning house, considering whether to jump (risk of death) or not. Would you forbid him to jump? After all, if he stays there he will certainly die. If he jumps he has a chance to live. Clearly, even though by jumping he may kill himself, it is certainly permitted.
The same applies to our case. All those stranded on the mountain are in the same situation as that person on the burning balcony. If they do not “jump,” they will certainly die. If they jump (= hold a lottery), each of them has a 90% chance of being saved. Therefore it is obvious that each of the ten wants to hold a lottery. Could it even enter your mind that we would forbid this to all of them (after all, they all want to hold a lottery and choose one person to be slaughtered)? There is no logic in that at all.
This is not similar to surrendering to terror, which speaks in the language of desecration of God’s name. That is exactly what I said.
Do you think this solution that you find on the halakhic plane also exists on the moral plane?
Since you accept the validity of morality as a categorical imperative, ostensibly one could say this same distinction even in cases like voting for the Knesset – there is an obligation on the individual even though it will happen without him as well.
Obviously. I said that there is a halakhic angle here of the categorical imperative. But originally it deals with morality, not halakha.
According to the Mishnah Berurah, I agree that even if there are ten, there is still an obligation to listen, but there are decisors who hold that once there are ten who are listening, something else can be inferred. According to their view, it turns out that one must distinguish between public assembly, where there is no threshold number of people who need to be present, and each person who is there contributes in one way or another, even if his contribution is not noticeable (and therefore each person is obligated to come), and Torah reading, where since there are ten who are listening – there is no point in adding more people to listen. True, one could say that if each and every person made the calculation that he does not need to be at the reading, it would be canceled, but since in the end there are ten who are willing to listen, there is no reason not to exempt the eleventh person from listening
I didn’t say everyone agrees with this. I expressed my opinion and brought sources for it. By the way, the permission to occupy oneself with something else does not necessarily contradict this, because they are still there and the reading is being done with a minyan that includes them as well.
Regarding what you wrote here:
When gentiles demand, “Hand over one of you, and if not we will kill all of you,” that ostensibly resembles our case. And indeed, the Kesef Mishneh and the other commentaries in ch. 5 of Hilkhot Yesodei HaTorah raise this difficulty. And in my article I explained (following an article by Anker) that in that case we are dealing with the laws of sanctifying and desecrating God’s name (submitting to the demands of terrorists), not the laws of murder and preservation of life.
According to this, is it also forbidden to submit to the demands of terrorists who kidnap civilians and demand the release of terrorists in exchange for them? Or in such a situation do we say that an uncertainty does not override a certainty? And why?
I wrote several posts about the issue of the hostages. I also dealt with the status of halakha in this issue and the ordinance that captives should not be redeemed for more than their value. In my opinion it has almost no practical significance, because there will always be an argument over what “their value” is, and nowadays too there are no longer kidnappings for monetary ransom.
This law of the Rambam also speaks about some group of Jews, not about a state or a people. Of course, there is also the relation between uncertainty and certainty.
But even in the specific case the Rambam spoke about in this law, where it is a group of Jews, there are two competing rationales: one rationale is that it is forbidden to surrender to terror; I assume this is because surrender to terror invites more terror. On the other hand, a possible additional terror threat does not override a definite present gain in life. It seems that the Rambam ruled in favor of the first rationale. Therefore I was surprised that regarding the hostages you said that דווקא the latter rationale prevails.
I don’t understand where my reply to this message disappeared. I’ll try to reconstruct it.
First, in the Rambam’s case the future is not uncertain but certain. If they do not give them what they demand, they will kill them all. Therefore surrendering to terror is preferable even to certain harm.
Beyond that, we are the stronger side here, and we are not delivered into the hands of gentiles. Therefore here there is no concern about similar terror in the future, unless we fail badly. So this should not be compared to the law in its original context, which assumes that we are delivered into the hands of gentiles and one must fear future events. Beyond that, here we are the ones at fault for what happened to the hostages (we did not provide them with protection). If in the Rambam’s case the wanted person had been at fault for the success of the gentiles’ siege and for the existence of a threat to all of us, then indeed there would have been room to rule otherwise. In short, there is no basis at all for the comparison. Each case on its own merits. Do you also think that exchanging prisoners after a war would be forbidden because of this Rambam?
I’m still stuck with the group dying in the snow. From what you said at the end of the previous post, I understood that the difficulty in killing one of them and eating his flesh is an emotional difficulty, not a moral one. Really? How does that fit with the set of cases of “be killed rather than transgress” – bloodshed, idolatry, and forbidden sexual relations – which teach that there are values that stand against saving lives? What is the difference between a harsh reality that requires killing for the sake of survival, and a hard-hearted tyrant who says to that same group – if you do not murder one of yourselves (or commit idolatry or forbidden sexual relations), I will kill all of you? Reality here is behaving like the tyrant; would you distinguish between the appropriate responses in the face of those two threats?