Vaeschanan: Avodah Zarah – Three Fundamental Premises

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Klothys, God of Destiny (Alternate), by Jason A. Engle

Vaeschanan: Avodah Zarah – Three Premises

After recapping the event of the Revelation at Sinai, Moshe Rabbeinu warns Bnei Yisrael about the dangers of avodah zarah (idolatry): 

But you shall greatly beware for your souls, for you did not see any likeness on the day Hashem spoke to you at Horeb, from the midst of the fire, lest you act corruptly and make yourselves a carved image, a likeness of any shape; a form of a male or a female; a form of any animal on the earth; a form of any winged bird that flies in the heaven; a form of anything that creeps on the ground, a form of any fish that is in the water under the earth; and lest you raise your eyes to heaven and you see the sun, and the moon, and the stars – the entire legion of heaven – and you be drawn away and bow to them and worship them, which Hashem, your God, has apportioned to all the peoples under the entire heaven! … Beware for yourselves lest you forget the covenant of Hashem, your God, that He has sealed with you, and you make yourselves a carved image, a likeness of anything, as Hashem, your God, has commanded you. For Hashem, your God – He is a consuming fire – a jealous God. (Devarim 4:15-19, 23-24) 

It is difficult for the modern reader to relate to these severe warnings. We have a hard time understanding why our ancestors were tempted to make graven images, bow down to idols, and venerate the heavenly bodies. For this reason, the Torah’s campaign against avodah zarah can appear excessive, outdated, and irrelevant. It seems as though mankind has moved on, and the Torah’s hard-line anti-avodah zarah stance carries little to no meaning for most Jews today. 

The view of avodah zarah as irrelevant is incorrect. In this post I will present an overview of three fundamental premises about avodah zarah which, when considered together, demonstrate the central place that avodah zarah occupies in the Torah regimen. 

Fundamental Premise #1: Opposition to Avodah Zarah as the Essence of Torah 

There are 613 mitzvos. According to the Rambam, 51 of these mitzvos are thematically related to avodah zarah, the laws of which he codifies in Hilchos Avodah Zarah. Of these 51, only around 20 of them are practically relevant to most Jews today – and that’s a generous estimate. 

One might infer from the above that avodah zarah is merely an aspect or a component of Torah. This is inaccurate. In truth, the essential mission of the entire Torah is to uproot avodah zarah. There are many sources which express this concept. Here are a few: 

• Chazal [1] teach “anyone who believes [2] in avodah zarah is like one who denies the entire Torah, and anyone who denies avodah zarah is like one who believes in the entire Torah.” [3]
• Similarly, Chazal [4] say that “one who denies avodah zarah is called a Jew (Yehudi).” 
• The Rambam [5] states: “the purpose of the entire Torah and the center around which everything revolves is the removal and annihilation of every trace of avodah zarah.” 
• The Sefer ha’Chinuch [6] refers to the belief in Hashem’s existence as “the foundation of the religion,” but identifies avodah zarah as “the root of the entire Torah upon which all else depends.” 
• The Ramban [7] also calls avodah zarah “the root of all mitzvos.” 
• Halachically, a Jew who worships avodah zarah has the halachic status of non-Jew with regards to all matters. Likewise, a Jew who is an apostate to avodah zarah is considered to be an apostate to the entire Torah. [8]

It is clear from these statements that avodah zarah is not simply a part of Torah. Rather, opposition to avodah zarah is the essence of Torah. Thus, to say that avodah zarah is no longer relevant to our lives would be to say that the Torah, itself, has lost its relevance. 

Moreover, we see from here that in order to understand the centrality of avodah zarah, we must expand our definition of avodah zarah to encompass more than the limited set of halachically proscribed behaviors. This leads us to the second fundamental premise. 

Fundamental Premise #2: Philosophical vs. Halachic Avodah Zarah 

When Chazal and the Rishonim say that the Torah’s essential mission is to uproot avodah zarah, their comments not limited to the specific set of actions and beliefs halachically proscribed by the 51 mitzvos mentioned above, such as bowing down to idols, making offerings to other gods, believing in and worshipping other deities, etc. 

This brings us to the distinction between halachic avodah zarah and philosophical avodah zarah. Halachic avodah zarah refers to those acts which are legally prohibited within the technical parameters of the halachic system. In contrast, philosophical avodah zarah refers to any act which derives from the thoughts, feelings, and general worldview of avodah zarah. 

The easiest way to grasp this distinction is to consider cases which would not constitute halachic avodah zarah, but would still be considered philosophical avodah zarah. For instance, a person who passes all of his children through the ritual Molech-fire is not liable for violating the Torah’s prohibition of worshipping Molech. Why not? Because halachic avodah zarah is only prohibited if it was done b’derech avodasah (in the customary manner). For this reason a person is only halachically culpable for worshipping Molech if he passes some of his children through the ritual fire, since that is how Molech was customarily worshipped; passing all of one’s children through the fire was not a sanctioned practice in the cult of Molech, and would therefore not be prohibited according to Torah law. But is such a person culpable for philosophical avodah zarah? Absolutely! To believe in – and certainly to worship – any god other than Hashem constitutes philosophical avodah zarah, even if the worshipper’s actions would not qualify as halachic avodah zarah due to a technicality. 

Another example is Christianity. Some Rishonim, such as the Rambam [9], unequivocally maintain that Christianity is halachically avodah zarah on account of the doctrine of the Trinity. The god Christians worship is a triune deity, and is therefore not a legitimate form of monotheism – unlike Islam. Others, such as the Baalei Tosafos [10], classify the doctrine of the Trinity as shituf (“co-sovereignty”), which they maintain is not halachically prohibited for non-Jews. For this reason, the Baalei Tosafos hold that we do not treat Christians as idolaters. Nevertheless, despite this halachic disagreement, both the Rambam and the Baalei Tosafos would agree that the Christian worship of the Trinity constitutes philosophical avodah zarah, since they are worshipping a god other than Hashem. 

How is the distinction between halachic and philosophical avodah zarah relevant to our discussion? Because whereas halachic avodah zarah is confined to the 51 mitzvos in Hilchos Avodah Zarah and their technical laws, philosophical avodah zarah plays a role in a far broader range of mitzvos. For example: 

• Thematically and halachically, Shabbos is the antithesis of avodah zarah, as I wrote about in my article Shabbos, Avodah Zarah, and Skilah. 
• Yetzias Miztrayim (the Exodus from Egypt) was orchestrated as a polemic against the avodah zarah of Egypt, as I wrote about in my article Chametz – Why So Serious? Thus, every holiday which commemorates an aspect of Yetzias Mitzrayim and every mitzvah which reminds us of Yetzias Mitzrayim is, by extension, related to avodah zarah. 
• According to the Rambam [11], the entire avodah (divine service) in the Mikdash (Temple) was designed to uproot avodah zarah. 
• There are numerous chukim (mitzvos whose reasons are not obvious) which the commentators explain to be aimed at uprooting specific avodah zarah beliefs and practices. These include mitzvos pertaining to kashrus, arayos (prohibited sexual relations), kilayim (prohibited mixtures), and more. 

The more one delves into the taamei ha’mitzvos (the reasons or objectives of the commandments), the more one comes to realize the truth of the Ramban’s assertion that “avodah zarah is the root of all mitzvos” – but only if we understand this to be referring to philosophical avodah zarah, rather than halachic avodah zarah. 

And this is especially true in light of our third fundamental premise. 

Fundamental Premise #3: The Derech Avodah Zarah 

Avodah zarah has no basis in reality – that is, in the objective external world. Rather, it stems from the subjective internal world of the psyche. There are certain internal trends (instincts, feelings, beliefs, habits, urges, insecurities, neuroses) which give rise to both philosophical and halachic avodah zarah. These internal psychological trends may be characterized as the derech avodah zarah (literally, “the way of idolatry” or “idolatrous psychological tendencies”). 

For example, to attribute supernatural powers to a physical object is derech avodah zarah, even if one recognizes that such a belief is irrational and doesn’t act on it. To be frightened of the number 13 is derech avodah zarah, even if a person doesn’t change his or her decisions in order to avoid this “unlucky” number and knows that numbers can’t cause any harm. According to the Rambam, who maintains that all forms of magic, sorcery, and occult practices are false and ineffective, it would be the derech avodah zarah to believe that they are real, even if one doesn’t actually engage in such practices. 

One of my rabbeim described such superstitious thoughts and feelings as “the soil in which avodah zarah grows.” My Rosh ha’Yeshiva defined the derech avodah zarah as the tendency to “treat the products of the psyche as a reality.” In addition to eliminating halachic and philosophical avodah zarah, the Torah also endeavors to curb, uproot, and sublimate the derech avodah zarah. According to both the Rambam [12] and the Ramban [13], we are enjoined by Hashem to strive for this ideal in the statement: “tamim tihiyeh im Hashem Elokechah (you shall be whole with Hashem, your God)” (Devarim 18:13). This is a tall order – one which was asked of no less than Avraham Avinu: “He said to him, ‘I am E-l Sha-dai. Walk before Me and be whole” (Bereishis 17:1). The path to this state of temimus lifei Hashem (wholeness before Hashem) truly encompasses the entire Torah, with all of its mitzvos and teachings. 

It is for this reason that caution is needed with regards to the derech avodah zarah. Halachic avodah zarah is prohibited across the board. Philosophical avodah zarah is opposed in other ways. But the derech avodah zarah is so deeply rooted that it is not always addressed. Indeed, sometimes Chazal even sanctioned practices which are rooted in the derech avodah zarah. 

An example of this is given by the Meiri [14] in his explanation of Chazal’s treatment of zugos (literally “pairs”). In the olden days, people harbored superstitious feelings about doing things in “pairs.” This posed an obstacle to the mitzvah of the Four Cups on Pesach, since we drink the wine in pairs. The Gemara in Pesachim gives various reasons as to why drinking a pair of pairs of cups on Pesach will not result in harm (e.g. Pesach is described as “a night of guarding” in that it is guarded from harmful spirits; the fact that these cups have blessings recited over them negates the harm). The problem with these answers is that Chazal seem to be endorsing the derech avodah zarah! The Meiri answers this problem by explaining why they did this: 

In many places we have explained that in those days the people were drawn after folk superstitions, such as incantations and omens and folk practices. Anything which did not contain a habit of avodah zarah and darchei ha’Emori (“ways of the Amorites” – idolatrous customs which are prohibited by Torah), [the Sages] did not bother to uproot. Even more so regarding those matters which were accustomed to them. 

In other words, if a particular practice constituted actual avodah zarah, Chazal would have stopped it. But if people harbored superstitious feelings about something which was not actually avodah zarah, not only did Chazal refrain from uprooting them, but they even “catered” to them by providing explanations which indirectly validated the erroneous premises of these derech avodah zarah feelings. 

Nevertheless, one who seeks to attain the level of tamim tihiyeh will strive to understand the origins of avodah zarah within the human psyche, to develop a sensitivity to the derech avodah zarah in themselves, and to strive to counteract those derech avodah trends. 

Conclusion 

In light of these three premises we can see that the warnings about avodah zarah given by Moshe Rabbeinu before his death are relevant today just as they were 3,300 years ago. Avodah zarah is not an antiquated component of Torah, but its very foundation. Halachic avodah zarah may be limited in its scope, especially in a post-pagan era, but philosophical avodah zarah is alive and well. Overt acts of avodah zarah may be avoidable, but the derech avodah zarah is insidious, and continuous to plague us despite our sophistication. 

End Notes

[1] Sifre Devarim 11:28

[2] lit. “admits to” or “acknowledges [the validity of]” or “upholds.” 

[3] This statement is codified by the Rambam in Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 2:4 

[4] Talmud Bavli Maseches Megilah 13a 

[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Moreh ha’Nevuchim 3:37 

[6] Sefer ha’Chinuch Mitzvah #26 

[7] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Devarim 4:3 

[8] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 2:5 

[9] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Avodah Zarah 1:3; Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 9:4; Sefer Kedushah, Hilchos Maachalos Assuros 11:7 

[10] see Tosafos Sanhedrin 63b and Bechoros 2b; full disclosure – I have not learned Tosafos’s view firsthand. 

[11] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Moreh ha’Nevuchim 3:32 

[12] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 11:16 

[13] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Devarim 18:13 and Bereishis 17:1 

[14] Rabbeinu Menachem ben Shlomo Meiri, Beis ha’Bechirah Pesachim 109b

Devarim: Deserving Israel is Not Enough

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article.

Disclaimer: this article is not intended to reflect any particular political stance on Israeli policy. 

Devarim: Deserving Israel is Not Enough 

Many Jews feel that we are entitled to take possession of the Land of Israel because it was promised to the Avos (i.e. Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov) as an inheritance to their offspring (i.e. us). While this is true, it is only half of the truth. The mere fact that the Land of Israel was promised to the Avos is not, in and of itself, a sufficient reason to justify our conquest of it. There is another consideration which is explicitly stated in the contract made by Hashem when He promised Avraham the Land. 

But let us start with our parashah. Much of Parashas Devarim is a recap of Bnei Yisrael’s journey through the Wilderness. Chapter 1 recounts the first part of the journey, from Sinai until the Sin of the Spies. Chapter 2 skips ahead 39 years to the events that were detailed at end of Sefer Bamidbar, as Bnei Yisrael began their conquest of the nations that lived in and around Israel. Moshe Rabbeinu recalls Hashem’s instructions regarding our interactions with these nations, beginning with the children of Eisav who occupied the land of Seir: 

Hashem said to me, saying … “You shall command the people, saying: ‘You are passing through the boundary of your brothers, the children of Eisav, who dwell in Seir; they will fear you, but you should be very careful. You shall not provoke them, for I shall not give you of their land even the right to set foot, for I have given Mount Seir as an inheritance to the children of Eisav.” (Devarim 2:2-5) 

Next, Moshe recounts a similar set of instructions regarding the Moabites and their land: 

Hashem said to me: “You shall not distress Moav and you shall not provoke war with them, for I shall not give you an inheritance from their land, for the children of Lote have I given Ar as an inheritance.” (ibid. 2:9) 

Likewise, regarding the Ammonites and their land: 

Hashem spoke to me, saying: “This day you shall cross the border of Moav, at Ar, and you shall approach opposite the children of Ammon; you shall not distress them and you shall not provoke them, for I shall not give any of the land of the children of Ammon to you as an inheritance, for to the children of Lote have I given it as an inheritance.” (ibid. 2:17-19) 

Finally Bnei Yisrael reach a people and a land that they are commanded to conquer: 

“Rise up and cross Amon Brook; see! Into your hand have I delivered Sichon, king of Cheshbone, the Amorite, and his land; begin to possess it, and provoke war with him. This day I shall begin to place dread and fear of you on the peoples under the entire heaven, when they hear of your reputation, and they will tremble and be anxious before you.” (ibid. 2:24-25) 

At first glance one might think that Bnei Yisrael were enjoined to conquer Sichon’s land because, unlike the lands of Eisav, Moav, and Ammon, the land of the Amorites had not been apportioned to them as an inheritance, and was therefore “free” for the taking. The Ralbag [1] dispels this notion: 

Our inheritance of the Land [of Israel] requires two conditions: one is the merit of the Jews, and the second is the wickedness of those nations, that their iniquity must be “full,” as we explained regarding the statement: “for the iniquity [2] of the Amorite is not full” (Bereishis 15:16).

The Ralbag is referring to the condition explicitly stated by Hashem in the Bris Bein ha’Besarim (The Covenant Between the Parts) when He promised to Avraham that his descendants would return to inherit the Land of Israel four generations after their sojourn in Egypt: 

And He said to Avram: “Know with certainty that your offspring shall be strangers in a land not their own, and they will serve them, and they will oppress them for four hundred years. But also the nation that they will serve I shall judge, and afterwards they will leave with great wealth. As for you: you shall come to your ancestors in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age. And the fourth generation shall return here, for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full until then.”

The Chazkuni [3] understands this last clause to be an answer to a question that Avraham might have asked: “Why will my offspring need to wait for four generations to inherit the Land? Why can’t they inherit the Land immediately?” The answer is “for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full until then.” Rashi [4] explains the meaning of this stipulation: 

for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full [enough] to cast them out of their land until that time, because Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu does not punish a nation until its measure is full, as it is said, “according to her measure He contends with her” (Yeshayahu 27:8).

The Radak [5] elaborates: 

for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full until then – [this means that] the time for the punishment for the iniquity of the Amorite will not yet have arrived, for Hashem (blessed is He) prolongs His anger for the wicked, and there is a set time for everyone: there are some whom He punishes immediately, and others for whom He delays [punishment] for a long time – all in accordance with His wisdom. [In this pasuk] He tells [Avram]: “for the time of the Amorite’s [6] punishment has not yet been completed.”

Indeed, the Ramban [7] goes so far as to posit that this was one of Avraham’s concerns which prompted the Bris bein ha’Besarim in the first place. After initially being told by Hashem: “I am Hashem Who brought you out of Ur-Kasdim to give you this land to inherit it” (Bereishis 15:7), Avram asks: “My Lord, Hashem-Elokim, whereby shall I know that I am to inherit it?” (ibid. 15:8). It is impossible to say that Avram’s question stemmed from a lack of trust in Hashem, since we were told two pesukim earlier: “And he trust in Hashem, and He reckoned it to him as righteousness” (ibid. 15:6). What, then, was the basis of Avram’s question? Ramban answers: 

But Avraham wanted to know with a true knowledge that he would inherit it, and that his sin or the sin of his offspring wouldn’t cause [the promise to not be fulfilled], or perhaps the Canaanites would do teshuvah and [that which was written] would be fulfilled in them: “One moment I may speak concerning a nation or a kingdom, to destroy, demolish, or annihilate [it], but if that nation repents of its evil deed of which I had spoken, then I relent of the harm that I had planned to carry out against it” (Yirmiyahu 18:7).

In other words, Avram asked Hashem, “whereby shall I know that I am to inherit it?” because he was worried about three things: (1) his own sins would cause him to lose the merit by which Hashem’s promise would be fulfilled, (2) the sins of his offspring would cause them to lose the merit by which they would inherit the land, or (3) the Seven Canaanite nations currently occupying the land would do teshuvah, thereby making it impossible for Hashem to give the land to Avraham’s descendants, since it would be unjust to kick a righteous nation out of their land, even in order to give it to someone as deserving as Avraham! Ultimately, Hashem made the Bris Bein ha’Besarim to allay Avraham’s fears [8], but we see from the Ramban’s interpretation of Avraham’s concerns how powerful this principle of Divine justice is! 

The Ralbag invokes this Divine justice to explain why Bnei Yisrael were warned not to wage war with the children of Eisav, Moav, and Amon: 

For this reason you will find that the Torah warned [Bnei Yisrael] not to provoke war with the Children of Eisav, nor with the Children of Ammon and Moav, since He didn’t give them their land as an inheritance, because even though the members of these nations were wicked, their iniquity was not yet “full” [such that they deserved to be driven out of their land and deprived of their inheritance]. However, the iniquity of the Amorite was full, and it is for this reason that they dispossessed Sichon and Og [from their land].

In other words, although the pesukim made it seem that Hashem absolutely forbade Bnei Yisrael to take the lands of Eisav, Moav, and Ammon, the Ralbag learns that this was only because “their iniquity was not yet full.” The implication is that if their iniquity had been full, they would have suffered the same fate as the Amorites, despite having been given their land as an inheritance. 

All of this may seem like ancient history, but I believe that the principle of Divine justice reflected in these pesukim has a significant bearing on our present situation, if not in how we relate to the current non-Jewish occupants of the Land of Israel, than at least in how we view our God-given right to dispossess them. 

As I mentioned at the outset of this post, it is easy to feel that we, as the descendants of the Avos, have an absolute right to take our Land back from those who dwell there. But as we have seen, even after Hashem promised the Land to Avraham, He was still not willing to drive out Amorites and the other Canaanite nations immediately. Only when “their iniquity was full” would they deserve to be kicked out. Only at that point would we be right to claim what He gave us. To displace these nations before their iniquity is full would be unjust. 

Tishah b’Av is next week. We are deep within the period of time when we, as Jews, reflect on the fact that we were exiled from our Land by our enemies. Even today, when the State of Israel exists, we bemoan the fact that we are still in exile, insofar as our Land is occupied by the nations of the world, and Israel is not under Jewish sovereignty. It is easy for us to look at the current occupants of our home and feel that we’re just entitled to kick them out and reclaim what is ours, without considering our own merit or the injustice of driving out another nation. 

When we think about the complicated situation in Israel today, let us remember the two criteria required to take back our land: we must become righteous enough to deserve it, and those we dispossess from their homes must be wicked enough to deserve their fate. 

End Notes

[1] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Devarim, Chapter 2: Toeles #13 

[2] In his actual commentary on Bereishis 15:16 the Ralbag translates “avon” as “punishment” rather than “iniquity,” but I’ve translated it as “iniquity” here to keep the terms consistent with the other meforshim I’ll be citing. 

[3] Rabbeinu Chezkia ben Manoach (Chazkuni), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 15:16 

[4] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 15:16 

[5] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 15:16 

[6] Many of the meforshim, including the Radak, explain that what is said of the Amorite applies to the other six Canaanite Nations as well, and that the Amorite is singled out because they were the most powerful. 

[7] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 

[8] How, exactly, the Bris Bein ha’Besarim accomplished this is the subject of another article yet to be written.

Mattos/Masei: Leaving an Out for Your Enemy

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Assemble the Legion, by Eric Deschamps

Mattos/Masei: Leaving an Out for Your Enemy

Hashem commands Moshe to wage a war of vengeance against Midian: 

Hashem spoke to Moshe saying, “Take vengeance for the Children of Israel against the Midianites. Afterward you shall be gathered to your kin.” Moshe spoke to the people, saying: “Arm men from among yourselves for the army, for them to be against Midian to exact Hashem’s vengeance from Midian …” Moshe sent them out … and they arrayed against Midian, as Hashem had charged Moshe, and they killed every male. (Bamidbar 31:1-7) 

The phrase “as Hashem had charged Moshe” implies that Hashem gave Moshe special instructions, but these instructions are not explicitly stated. The Sages expound on this in Sifre [1]: 

and they arrayed against Midian – [The Tanna Kamma says:] they surrounded it from all four sides. Rebbi Nosson says: he gave them a fourth side [open and unobstructed] so that they could escape. 

According to the Tanna Kamma, Bnei Yisrael were commanded to surround Midian on all four sides. The fact that they were given these specific instructions implies that under ordinary circumstances they would not (or might not) have done so. The Malbim [2] explains the rationale behind this anomaly: 

The Tanna Kamma held that based on what was written [earlier, when Bnei Yisrael were first commanded to go to war with Midian], “Be foes to the Midianites and smite them” (Bamidbar 25:17), the commandment [here to Moshe] was to not leave them any means of escape, as it was explicitly stated, and this was in order to take vengeance from them. 

In other words, in an ordinary war the only objective is victory, and as long is Israel wins, it doesn't matter if the enemy flees. In the war with Midian, however, victory was not enough. The siege had to result in total annihilation of the enemy. Midian had to be completely surrounded in order to make sure that no one escaped.

The second opinion cited in Sifre, that of Rebbi Nosson, stands in direct opposition to the Tanna Kamma’s view: Bnei Yisrael were specifically instructed to leave the Midianites an escape route, so they could flee. The Rambam [3] codifies this view as halacha: 

When laying siege to a city to capture it, we do not surround it on four sides, but only on three, and we leave a place to flee and for one who wants to save himself, as it is stated: “they arrayed against Midian as Hashem commanded Moshe” – from the Oral Tradition we learn that this is what he was commanded. 

The Ramban [4] agrees that we follow Rebbi Nosson’s view, and even goes so far as to count this as one of the 613 mitzvos, which he includes in his list of “mitzvos that the Rambam forgot”: 

When laying siege to a city we are commanded to leave one of the directions without siege so that those who want to flee will have a way to flee through there, because in this we will learn to conduct ourselves with compassion even with our enemies at a time of war. Furthermore, there is an additional benefit in leaving them an opening to flee, so that they do not strengthen themselves to meet us [in war]. It is stated: “they arrayed against Midian as Hashem commanded Moshe,” and [the Sages] expounded in Sifri: “surround it on three sides; Rebbi Nosson says: give them a fourth side so they can flee.” [5] This was not a temporary mitzvah in Midian, but is a mitzvah for all generations in every optional war (i.e. not in obligatory wars), as the Rabbi (i.e. Rambam) wrote in his great composition in the Laws of Kings and their Wars. 

The Ramban mentions two reasons for this mitzvah: (1) to train ourselves to exercise compassion, even towards our enemies, and even during a war in which we are permitted to kill them, and (2) because if we don’t leave the enemy an out, there’s a chance they’ll fight back with even more strength. The Torah Temimah [6] elaborates on this second reason: 

The reason we leave an opening on one of the four sides is because if we don’t leave them any opening, they would all go to war like those who have given up until they deplete the last of their strength, and it would be difficult for Israel to conquer them, but this would not be the case if we left them an out to escape. 

In other words, if the enemy knows that there’s no escape and no hope, they’ll summon up all of their remaining strength and go all out, knowing that they have nothing to lose because the battle has already been lost. Du Mu, the 9th century commentator on Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, refers to this phenomenon as “the courage of despair.” [7]

On the surface, these two reasons appear to be contradictory in character. The first reason is ethical in nature: we leave our enemy an out as an act of compassion, showing our willingness to spare lives. The second reason is tactical: we leave our enemy an out in order to make them easier to vanquish, and to save our own lives. Are these reasons incompatible? 

In my opinion, the two reasons are not incompatible – and that is precisely the point. 

There are certainly cases in which showing compassion is not in one’s own best interests, and will lead to harm. Perhaps one of the most famous cases of this is Shaul’s decision to have compassion on Agag, King of Amalek, concerning which the Sages say: “anyone who is merciful on the cruel will ultimately be cruel to the merciful.” [8]

In this case, however, the Ramban is pointing out that being compassionate is also tactically advantageous. One need not refrain from displaying compassion out of the feeling that this will lead to harm or loss. And if a general or a soldier feels compelled to block the enemy’s path of escape in violation of the halacha, this can only stem from military incompetence or from a misguided impulse of cruelty. 

Although most of us will never find ourselves in a position to implement this halacha, we can still take its lesson to heart and apply it in other areas of life. For example, I once mentioned to my Mishlei rebbi that an atheistically inclined student posed a number of “heretical” objections to a lesson of mine, and I refuted every one of them. My rebbi said: 

“Maybe that was the right move, but sometimes it’s good to let the student ‘score’ a point against his rebbi. If you crush him by taking away all of his 'outs,' he might turn away and close himself off because his ego can’t handle it. It’s important to throw him a bone every once in a while.” 

The same advice applies to many relationships: showing compassion by giving the other person an out is often tactically advantageous to the long-term success of the relationship. 

Footnotes

[1] Sifre Bamidbar 31:7. It should be noted that there are two versions of Sifre. I believe the one cited here is based on the more accurate manuscript. The other version says: “[The Tanna Kamma says:] they surrounded it from all four sides. Rebbi Nosson says: he gave them a fourth side [open] so that they could escape.” In other words, in our version Rebbi Nosson argues with the Tanna Kamma, but in this other version he merely explains his reasoning. 

[2] Rav Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 31:7. The Malbim held that our version of the Sifre is correct, and that there is a machlokess between the Tanna Kamma and Rebbi Nosson. 

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Shoftim, Hilchos Melachim 6:7. There’s a whole to-do about how we can paskin like Rebbi Nosson against the Tanna Kamma. The easy way out is to say that our version of the Sifre is correct, and both the Tanna Kamma and Rebbi Nosson hold that we leave an escape route. If you’re interested in how the other approach is resolved, consult the Nosei Kelim on the Rambam. 

[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Critique of the Sefer ha’Mitzvos of the Rambam: Mitzvos Aseh “that the Rambam forgot” #5 

[5] Note that the Ramban had the other version of the Sifre, without the machlokess Tanna Kamma Rebbi Nosson. 

[6] Rav Baruch ha'Levi Epstein, Torah Temimah: Sefer Bamidbar 31:7, footnote 9 

[7] Sun Tzu writes: “When you surround an army, leave an outlet free” (7:32). Whether Sun Tzu’s intent actually corresponds to our halacha is an open question. He might very well mean what the Ramban wrote as his second reason. However, Du Mu writes that “this does not mean that the enemy is to be allowed to escape.” Rather, "[the object is] to make him believe that there is a road to safety, and thus prevent his fighting with the courage of despair … After that, you may crush him." 

[8] Tanchuma, Metzora 1; Yalkut Shimoni I Shmuel 15 (Remez 121)

Pinchas / 17th of Tammuz: The Korban Tamid and its Cessation

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Through the Breach, by Randy Vargas

Pinchas / 17th of Tammuz: The Korban Tamid and its Cessation 

Introduction 

Yesterday was the 17th of Tammuz. This Shabbos we read Parashas Pinchas. There is one topic which is common to both: the korban tamid (continual daily offering). The Rambam [1] writes: 

On the 17th of Tammuz five things happened: (1) the tablets were broken, (2) the korban tamid ceased from the First Temple, (3) [the walled city of] Yerushalayim (Jerusalem) was breached in the destruction of the Second [Temple], (4) the wicked Apostomos burned a Torah scroll, and (5) he set up an idol in the Sanctuary. 

Of these five, the one which tends to resonate the least is the cessation of the korban tamid. The breaking of the tablets was a dramatic event, signaling the violation of our covenant with Hashem through the worship of the Golden Calf - one of our worst national transgressions of all time. The breach of Yerushalayim is easy to relate to as as tragedy, since it was the step which directly led to the destruction of the Beis ha’Mikdsah (Holy Temple). The evil deeds of Apostomos may not register on the same scale of national catastrophe as the preceding two events, but the act of burning a sefer Torah and setting up an idol in Mikdash evoke visceral reactions. Compared to these four tragic events, the cessation of the korban tamid seems relatively tame. What, exactly, was so bad about this event? 

The appearance of the korban tamid in Parashas Pinchas is rather jolting. Hashem shows Moshe the Land of Israel and informs him of his own impending death. Moshe pleads with Hashem to choose a successor to lead the people. Hashem instructs him to appoint Yehoshua. The passing of the mantle of leadership takes place in a dramatic public assembly featuring a pageantry rich in the symbolism of transition. And then, without warning, Hashem tells Moshe to command the Children of Israel in the mitzvah of the korban tamid. It is quite the non sequitur. 

The aim of this article is to address both issues: to understand what it is about the cessation of the korban tamid which warrants a national mourning on par with the other four tragedies, and to explain the Torah’s abrupt transition from the narrative of Yehoshua’s succession to the laws of the korban tamid. Lastly, we will take a first step in defining a theme which unites all five of the occurrences we commemorate on the 17th of Tammuz and suggest on that basis a possible avenue for national teshuvah we can engage in this year.

The Maimonidean Function of the Korban Tamid 

The Rambam [2] famously (or infamously) held that the purpose of all korbanos (sacrifices) is to counteract the yetzer ha’ra (evil inclination) for avodah zarah (idolatry). His theory is quite polarizing, to say the least. Some meforshim (commentators) vehemently oppose his view, such as the Ramban [3], who denounces the Rambam’s explanation as “foolish words" which "make the altar of Hashem disgusting.” Others embrace the Rambam’s view in a manner which “is even more Maimonidean than Maimonides,” [4] such as Ibn Kaspi [5], who boldly asserts that “Moshe Rabbeinu was forced and compelled against his will to write [the detailed laws of korbanos in Sefer Vayikra] … but the customs of the non-Jews at that time brought them to this.” 

While the Rambam’s view of korbanos as a whole is a subject of controversy, there is a distinctly Maimonidean dimension to the korban tamid which is undeniable. The Torah’s exposition of the laws of the korban tamid begins as follows: “Command the Children of Israel and say to them: My offering, My food for My fires, My satisfying aroma, you shall safeguard it to offer to Me in its appointed time” (Bamidbar 28:2). From here the Sages derive a universal halacha in korbanos known as muktzeh (lit. “set aside”). If an animal is used in a ceremony of avodah zarah, that animal becomes prohibited to be offered as a korban to Hashem. The Gemara (Temurah 29a) spells out how this halacha is derived from the pasuk: 

“You shall safeguard it to offer to Me in its appointed time” [implies] “to Me” but not to another master. And who is this other [master] to whom one might offer? This is avodah zarah.” 

This Gemara explicitly ties the korban tamid to the rejection of avodah zarah. Some argue that the derivation of the universal law of muktzeh from the korban tamid supports the Rambam’s contention that all korbanos are designed to counteract avodah zarah. This point is debatable, but everyone would agree that the tamid itself embodies this theme – even the Ramban. 

The thematic connection to the rejection of avodah zarah is reinforced by a cryptic Sifri (142): 

“Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying: Command the Children of Israel … My offering, My food …” Why was this said? Because it said: “[May Hashem … appoint a man over the assembly] who shall go out before them and come in before them” (Bamidbar 27:16-17). To what may this be compared? To a king whose wife, before she passed away, charged him regarding her children, saying: “Please take care of my children,” to which the king replied, “Before you charge me regarding my children, charge my children regarding me, so that they do not rebel against me, and so that they do not treat me disgracefully.” So too, Hashem told [Moshe]: “Before you charge Me regarding My children, charge them regarding Me, so that they not treat me disgracefully by exchanging My Glory for foreign gods.” Thus it is said: “For I shall bring them to the Land [… and they shall turn to the foreign gods of the land and serve them etc.”] (Devarim 31:20). Before you charge Me regarding My children, charge them regarding Me. Thus, it is stated: “Command the Children of Israel [in the mitzvah of the korban tamid].” 

What is clear from this Sifri is that the Sages characterized the korban tamid as a safeguard against the pitfall of avodah zarah that would threaten the nation upon entry into the Land of Israel under the leadership of Yehoshua. What is quite unclear is: How? How is the korban tamid a safeguard against avodah zarah? And what does this have to do with Yehoshua?

The answer to this question, and our question about the non sequitur in Parashas Pinchas, is given by the Torah Temimah [6], citing the explanation of the Sifri given by the Malbim [7]: 

The purpose [8] of the tamid is to counteract sun-worship. The idolaters would bow down and worship [the sun] twice each day, upon its rising and its setting. Its morning service would [take place] facing the east, and its afternoon service would [take place facing] the west. [Therefore,] Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu commanded us to offer before Him two daily sacrifices: the slaughtering of the morning [tamid] at the northwest corner [of the altar] and the [slaughtering of] the afternoon [tamid] at the northeast corner, in direct opposition to sun-worship. 

The Sages said that if Moshe had entered the Land [of Israel,] he would have nullified the yetzer for avodah zarah, and the service of the tamid would have been unnecessary. Since he requested, “May Hashem appoint a man over the assembly,” and Yehoshua was appointed to wage wars, and he lacked the power to nullify the yetzer for avodah zarah, therefore Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu instructed Moshe to charge His children to not exchange His Glory for foreign gods and to not worship the sun, as the gentile nations did. And it is for this purpose that the section of the tamid was commanded, namely, as a polemic against avodah zarah. 

According to Sifri, as interpreted by the Torah Temimah and the Malbim, identity of the korban tamid is so essentially tied to the repudiation of avodah zarah that its very structure is designed to be the antithesis of sun-worship, which was popular among the Canaanite nations. When the sun rises in the east, and the sun-worshippers bow eastward, we turn our backs on the sun and offer the morning tamid to Hashem, facing west. When the sun begins to set in the west and the sun-worshippers turn with it, we demonstrate our rejection of their cult and their god by offering the afternoon tamid in the east. 

The placement of this topic in Parashas Pinchas is explained based on the notion that avodah zarah would have been totally eradicated under Moshe Rabbeinu’s leadership, thereby rendering the korban tamid unnecessary. But since Moshe would not enter the Land, and Yehoshua would not be capable of eliminating the drive towards avodah zarah on his own, he would need to wage a continual war against avodah zarah – a war whose constancy was represented by the korban tamid, which also functioned as a weapon in the battle. 

The Tragedy of the Cessation of the Tamid 

In light of this explanation, we are now in a position to understand the tragedy of the cessation of the korban tamid. It is well-known that one of the primary national sins which resulted in the destruction of the first Beis ha’Mikdash was avodah zarah. The first crack in the edifice of the United Kingdom of Israel arose from the introduction of avodah zarah into the Land, chiefly through the idolatrous marriages and alliances of Shlomo ha’Melech. The destruction and exile of the Northern Kingdom of Israel came about from the avodah zarah introduced by the king Yeravam ben Navat via his Golden Calves. The decree of destruction and exile of the Southern Kingdom of Yehudah was sealed by the evil king Menashe, who spread avodah zarah so far and wide that he nearly drove Judaism to utter extinction. All of the prophets who prophesied about the destruction of the Beis ha’Mikdash, from Yeshayahu to Yirmiyahu, routinely rebuked the Jewish people for their attachment to avodah zarah. 

When viewed merely as a “ritual sacrifice,” the korban tamid is the most mundane of them all. But when viewed through the lens of the foregoing analysis, the korban tamid is emblematic of the daily national battle against the yetzer ha’ra for avoadah zarah. The specific form of avodah zarah it is designed to counteract underscores the enormity of this battle. Every morning the sun rises and sets, illuminating the earth and sustaining its life, and humanity faces the question: Will you regard the sun as an independent source of power worthy of veneration and worship, or will you recognize it as an expression of the laws of nature authored by the One Creator of the Heavens and the Earth, and submit yourself to His will by serving Him, as does the sun itself? 

Thus, the cessation of the korban tamid on the 17th of Tammuz represents the collapse of the final bulwark against avodah zarah – the dam that held back the powerful forces of avodah zarah that had been erected by Moshe at the very inception of the Israelite conquest, and had continued to lend their stalwart defenses as the nation sunk further and further into idolatry. But finally, on the 17th of Tammuz, the last vestiges of Moshe’s ward [9] gave way. The korban tamid’s metaphysical fortification was breached just like the walls of Yerushalayim, and the long battle was lost, leaving countless casualties in its wake. 

The Beginnings of a Unified Theory of the 17th of Tammuz 

I haven’t fully worked it out yet, but I do believe that this opens up a path to understanding the unity of the five events we commemorate on the 17th of Tammuz. I would like to propose that the theme of the 17th of Tammuz in the infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem (service of God). Let us see how this theme is reflected in each of the five events. 

Why did Moshe break the tablets? Because he saw that the nation he had led out of Egypt was still attached to their avodah zarah ways. For this reason, they were not worthy of receiving the Torah, since their involvement in avodah zarah was tantamount to a rejection of the entire Torah. [10] Despite their witnessing of Hashem’s defeat of the idolatrous Egyptian empire, their redemption through miraculous signs and wonders, and their experiencing of the Divine Revelation at Har Sinai, the insidious lure of avodah zarah still managed to retain its hold, and the original covenant they made with Hashem was rendered null and void. 

The relationship of avodah zarah to the cessation of the korban tamid has been sufficiently explained: the korban tamid was designed to function as an inoculation against avodah zarah, and its cessation represented the culmination of avodah zarah’s conquest of the nation. 

The breach of the walls of Yerushalayim has also been explained: Yerushalayim and Bayis Rishon (the First Temple) were destroyed for the sin of avodah zarah. (And if you’ll object, saying: “Doesn’t the 17th of Tammuz commemorate the breach of the walls of Yerushalayim in Bayis Sheini?” then feel free to read this extensive footnote.[11]) 

Lastly, the two wicked deeds of Apostomos epitomize the infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem: (a) he burned the Torah, a system whose essence is to uproot avodah zarah, and (b) Apostomos, who was an idolater himself, literally infiltrated the Beis ha’Mikdash, which is the makom avodas Hashem (place of Divine service) par excellence, and set up an actual idol of avodah zarah there. It is impossible to conceive of something that represents the theme of “infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem” greater than that! 

What is the significance of this as the unified theme of the 17th of Tammuz? The answer lies in the purpose of all national fast days, as the Rambam writes: 

There are days on which all of Israel fasts because of the catastrophes that occurred on them, in order to awaken the hearts [of the people] and to open the paths of teshuvah (repentance). This will be a remembrance of our corrupt actions and the corrupt actions of our fathers that were like our actions today, which ultimately reached the point that [these corrupt actions] caused these catastrophes for them and for us. Through the remembrance of these things we will return to do good, as it stated, “they will confess their sins and the sins of their fathers” (Vayikra 26:40). 

All of our fast days revolve around the destruction of the first and second Mikdash, and a recognition that we are still in exile awaiting the ultimate redemption and the building of the third and final Mikdash. Why are we still in exile? Why don’t we have our makom avodas Hashem? Because the yetzer ha’ra for avodah zarah is alive and well. It has infiltrated our ranks and has permeated our avodas Hashem just as it did with our ancestors. The threat of the yetzer avodah zarah looms so large, and is such an obstacle to the rehabilitation necessary to be worthy of the final redemption, that the Sages instituted a day of national teshuvah devoted specifically to this theme. The first step in on the road to our national recovery is to recognize the problem which led to our downfall in the first place, and until we do that, then we shall remain in exile. 

One last question: How is the yetzer ha'ra for avodah zarah still alive and well? Is the korban tamid even relevant anymore? Do people still worship the sun? Do people bow down to it and ascribe supernatural power to it? That is the question which must be answered by each of us when we engage in national teshuvah. There is much to say, but the best kind of teshuvah starts with individual introspection. 

I will end by mentioning one possibility. We are currently in the midst of a unprecedented pandemic. As of the writing of this article there have been 12.3 million confirmed cases and over 557,000 deaths worldwide. We have seen the structures of our society crumbled around us, and scores of individuals, communities, and nations have been pushed to the brink. Many of us have faced a greater degree of insecurity than at any other time in our lives, and the future has never been more uncertain.

We may not worship the sun as an entity of independent power - but how many people have we seen over the course of this pandemic relate to other elements of nature in a similar manner? Have we progressed beyond the primitive mentality of helplessly flailing in a storm of terrifying forces and truly acknowledged that nature and all of its elements operate in accordance with the will and wisdom of the Creator? Have we followed the implications of this realization by recognizing that this same Creator gave us His Torah, and commanded us to keep it? Have we truly accepted the fact the universe He created and the Torah He has given us are good, and that we can partake of this good by aligning ourselves with His will? 

These are the questions we must ask in order to engage in national teshuvah. As long as the worship of the sun, the stars, and the heavenly forces is still practiced among the Jewish people - whether in its original primitive form, or in its sublimated modern form - then the catastrophe of the 17th of Tammuz will continue to ripple through time. May Hashem speedily fulfill what Zechariah prophesied: 

"Thus said Hashem, Master of Legions: The fast of the fourth [month, of Tammuz], the fast of the seventh [month, of Tishrei], and the fast of the tenth [month, of Teves] will be to the House of Yehudah for joy and for gladness and for happy festivals. [Only] love truth and peace!" (Zechariah 8:19)

Footnotes

[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Taaniyos 5:2 

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Moreh ha’Nevuchim 3:32 

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides) Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 1:9 

[4] Credit for this phrase goes to my high school principal, who used it in reference to the Ralbag. 

[5] Rabbeinu Yosef ibn Kaspi, Commentary on Vayikra 1:1. The Ibn Kaspi goes even further than that, and refrains from writing commentary on all the sections of Vayikra which deal with korbanos! And yes, I realize that I’ve just committed a “Rishonic hit-and-run,” and I intend to follow this up with its own post at some point in the future. 

[6] Rav Baruch ha'Levi Epstein, Torah Temimah: Sefer Bamidbar 28:2, footnote 2 

[7] Rav Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 28:2; the Torah Temimah’s citation of the Malbim is near verbatim, but I’ve decided to use his instead of the Malbim’s because the language is slightly more concise. 

[8] lit. “the tamid came to counteract sun-worship.” I didn’t like this literal translation because it sounds too much like, “Don’t ride a horse on Shabbos because you might come to break off a branch!” 

[9] Get it? “Ward” means “protection” but it also refers to a minor under the care of an adult – a subtle nod to the analogy in the Sifri about charging a parent to protect their children. I felt compelled to point that out. 

[10] See my (unfinished) analysis of Rashi’s interpretation of the breaking of the tablets: https://kolhaseridim.blogspot.com/2016/07/17th-of-tammuz-breaking-of-tablets.html

[11] It is true that the 17th of Tammuz commemorates the breach of Yerushalayim during Bayis Sheini, not Bayis Rishon. In fact, we know when the when the walls of Bayis Rishon were breached because it’s stated openly in the pesukim: “On the 9th of the month [of Tammuz] the famine was strong in the city and there was no bread for the people of the land. The city was breached, and all the men of war [fled] during the night” (II Melachim 25:4; see also Yirmiyahu 52:6-7). 

Why, then, do we fast on the 17th of Tammuz instead of the 9th? Why not commemorate the breach of the walls in Bayis Rishon? The answer, according to some, is that we used to observe this fast day on the 9th of Tammuz, and it was subsequently changed to the 17th after the destruction of Bayis Sheini. The Lechem Mishneh (on Hilchos Taaniyos 5:2) explains: 

Even though the fast in the pasuk, “the fast of the fourth [month],” refers to the 9th [of Tammuz], since the city was breached on the 9th, nevertheless, we now observe it on the 17th because the destruction of Bayis Sheini was worse, and the walls of the city [then] were breached on the 17th. And if you’ll [object] saying that we observe the 10th of Teves because the King of Bavel besieged Yerushalayim during the destruction of Bayis Rishon, but we should have changed it to the day that the city was besieged during Bayis Sheini, since it was worse – the answer is that our case is different, since everything happened on one month and it’s not a big deal to change [the observance of the fast] from the 9th to the 17th, but in there [in the case of the two sieges] the times are spread apart. 

Thus, it turns out that the fast day we observe on the 17th of Tammuz is essentially about the breach of the walls of Yerushalayim per se – not about the breach of the walls during Bayis Sheini specifically, the exclusion of Bayis Rishon. Hence, my comment in the body of the article that the theme of the day is the infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem, which is reflected in the destruction of Bayis Rishon on account of avodah zarah. 

[12] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Taaniyos 5:1 

Chukas/Balak : Ethnic Retribution in Torah

Truthfully, this is more about Ki Seitzei, but I kept the heading since that’s where my investigation started. And to my regular readers: my apologies for the unusual the length of this post!

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Campaign of Vengeance, by Igor Kieryluk

Chukas/Balak: Ethnic Retribution in Torah 

Introduction 

Should the descendants of one nation or ethnic group be held accountable for the wrongdoings of their ancestors, or treated differently on the basis of their predecessors’ conduct? 

The answers given to this broad and multifaceted question tend to be opinionated and heated, especially at this particular juncture in American history. For instance, there are those who maintain that the descendants of white slave owners share in the guilt of their ancestors’ crimes and are obligated by the principles of justice to make reparations to the descendants of Black slaves. Some extend this principle even further, regarding slavery as a sin shared by all white people and demanding restitution for all Black people, regardless of their actual familial connection to the institution of American slavery. Others argue that enough time has passed that the descendants of the criminals and victims of American slavery bear no connection to their ancestors – or at least, not enough of a connection to warrant the enactment of transgenerational justice – and that any attempt to enact such justice would be as unjust as punishing a child for his father’s sins. Similar questions have been raised about the wrongs committed against Native Americans by the American government, the crimes committed by the Nazis against the Jews of Europe, and other cases of oppression around the world. 

This article was born out of a desire to explore such cases of “ethnic retribution” in Torah – cases in which the descendants of one nation or ethnic group are subject to some form of discrimination on account of who their ancestors were or what their ancestors did. In this article we will focus on three such groups, each comprised of two nations or ethnicities: (a) Amonites and Moabites, (b) Edomites and Egyptians, (c) Amalekites and Canaanites; the latter includes seven specific nations – the Canaanites, Amorites, Girgashites, Hittites, Hivites, Jebusites, and Perizzites – but we’ll refer to them collectively as “Canaan” for simplicity’s sake. 

Each of these nations is singled out by the Torah on the basis of decisions made by their forebears and are subjected to laws which can be characterized as “retaliatory” in nature. We’ll begin with an overview of how each of these nations is treated according to halacha, as codified by the Rambam. [1] We will then raise some questions on these laws, examine some answers, and discover that the answers generate more questions and problems than they solve. 

Ethnic Discrimination in Marriage 

Four out of the six aforementioned nations are subject to the prohibition of “entering into the congregation of Hashem.” The prohibitions and their reasons are stated in Parashas Ki Seitzei: 

An Amonite or Moabite shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, even their tenth generation shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, to eternity, because of the fact that they did not greet you with bread and water on the road when you were leaving Egypt, and because he hired against you Bilaam son of Beor, of Pesor, Aram Naharaim, to curse you. But Hashem, your God, refused to listen to Bilaam, and Hashem, your God, reversed the curse to a blessing for you, because Hashem, your God, loved you. You shall not seek their peace or their welfare, all your days, forever.

 

You shall not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother; you shall not reject an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land. Children who are born to them in the third generation may enter the congregation of Hashem. (Devarim 23:4-9) 

We will delay our analysis of the reasons given in these pesukim (verses) and will focus instead on the halachic parameters of these restrictions. The Rambam [2] codifies them as follows: 

12:17 – Regarding every [member of] every nation: when they convert and accept upon themselves all the mitzvos of the Torah, and [likewise] slaves upon being freed, they become like an Israelite in every respect, as it is stated: “there shall be one statute for the congregation” (Bamidbar 15:15). And it is permissible for them to enter into the congregation of Hashem immediately – namely, that a male convert or freed slave may marry a native-born Jewish woman, and a native-born Jewish man may marry a female convert or freed slave – except for four nations alone, and they are: Amon, Moav, Egypt, and Edom; regarding these nations, when a member of one of them converts, they are like an Israelite in every respect except with regards to entering the congregation [by marrying a native-born Jew]. 

12:18 – What is their law? The prohibition on Amon and Moav is for all time, on the males but not the females, as it is stated: “no Amoni (literally, male Amonite) or Moavi (literally, male Moabite) may enter” and it is a law given to Moses from Sinai that only a male Amonite and a male Moabite is forever prohibited to marry a native-born Jewish woman – even the son, of a son, of a son, until the end of time – but a female Amonite or Moabite is permitted [to marry a native-born Jew] immediately, like the other nations. [Note: a male Amonite or Moabite may marry another convert or freed slave without restriction.] 

12:19 – Regarding Egyptians and Edomites, whether males or females, the first and second generation are prohibited from entering [the congregation] of Israel, but the third generation is permitted, as it is stated: “children who are born to them in the third generation” … 

To summarize: all gentiles who convert to Judaism are allowed to marry any Jew with the exception of gentiles from four specific nations: Amonite and Moabite men may never marry native-born Jewish women; Edomite and Egyptian men and women are not allowed to marry native-born Jews, nor may their children, but their grandchildren may. 

In the cases of Amonite and Moabite male converts the prohibition is expressed in terms of marriage and is violated through the act of sexual intercourse. However, in the cases of Edomites and Egyptians, although it is prohibited to marry or have relations with 1st and 2nd generation converts, the prohibition is expressed in terms of rejection: “You shall not reject an Edomite … You shall not reject an Egyptian.” What does this mean practically? Rambam [3] writes: 

We are prohibited from rejecting the descendants of Eisav (i.e. the Edomites) after they convert. In other words, we are forbidden to avoid marrying them after they convert … 

We are prohibited from rejecting the Egyptians and avoiding marrying them after they convert … 

In other words, for a native-Jew to reject a first or second generation Edomite or an Egyptian on the basis of their ethnicity is not only permitted, but is actually backed by force of a Torah prohibition – and yet, if a person were to avoid marrying a third generation Edomite or Egyptian convert on the basis of their ethnicity, then they would be in violation of a different Torah prohibition. In this sense it may be said that the Torah legislates the exact parameters of our ethnic discrimination towards Edomites and Egyptians. 

What about Amalek and Canaan? One might assume that the effort to distance ourselves from these nations would be even more extreme – and yet, the opposite is true. According to the Rambam, there is no Torah prohibition to marry an Amalekite or a Canaanite convert whatsoever. The Rambam explicitly states in 12:22: “One who converts from the seven [Canaanite] nations is not prohibited by the Torah to enter into the congregation.” Why mention Canaanites at all if they’re all permissible? Because, as the Rambam goes on to explain, Yehoshua and David subsequently imposed Rabbinic marriage restrictions on the Gibeonites – the only Canaanite community that actually converted. The fact that the Rambam doesn’t even mention Amalekite converts [4] clearly implies that they were included in his statement in 12:17, namely, that they are no different than a convert from any other non-Jewish nation, and “it is permissible for them to enter into the congregation of Hashem immediately.” 

Are these laws observed today? The Rambam concludes the chapter with an answer: 

12:25 – When Sancheriv, King of Assyria, arose, he confounded [the identity of] all the nations, intermingling them with one another and exiling them from their place. [Consequently,] these Egyptians that are presently in the land of Egypt are other people; likewise, the Edomites in the field of Edom. And since these four prohibited nations have assimilated into all of the nations of the world which are permissible, all of them are [now] permissible, since if [a member of] one of them separates himself for conversion, it is assumed that he separated from the majority. [5]

Therefore, when anyone converts in the present era in any location – whether an Edomite, an Egyptian, an Amonite, a Moabite, an Ethiopian, or any other ethnicity, whether male or female – they are permitted to enter the congregation immediately. 

In other words, despite the fact that these Torah prohibitions are still in effect, they are practically not observed anymore because there is no way for us to tell which individuals descended from these nations, thanks to Sancheriv’s campaign of forced international exile and assimilation. [6] Due to the principle of “whoever separates is assumed to have separated from the majority,” every convert is now permitted to marry a native-born Jew because it is assumed that that convert did not come from one of those four nations. 

Ethnic Discrimination in War and Peace 

It is well-known that the Jewish people were commanded to wipe out the seven nations of Canaan upon our initial conquest of the Land of Israel so that we would not be influenced by their corrupt behavior, practices, and beliefs. The Torah states this explicitly: 

But from the cities of these peoples that Hashem, your God, gives you as an inheritance, you shall not allow any person to live. Rather, you shall utterly destroy them – the Hittite, the Amorite, the Canaanite, the Perizzite, the Hivvite, and the Jebusite – as Hashem, your God, has commanded you, so that they will not teach you to act according to all their abominations that they performed for their gods, so that you will sin to Hashem, your God. (Devarim 20:16-18) 

Likewise, it is well-known that we are commanded to wipe out the nation of Amalek in retaliation for their ambush on the Jewish people as we left Egypt: 

Remember what Amalek did to you, on the way, when you were leaving Egypt, that he happened upon you on the way, and he struck those of you who were hindmost, all the weaklings at your rear, when you were faint and exhausted, and did not fear God. It shall be that when Hashem, your God, gives you rest from all your enemies all around, in the Land that Hashem, your God, gives you as an inheritance to possess it, you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek from under the heaven – you shall not forget! (ibid. 25:17-19) 

However, the parameters of these seemingly sweeping genocidal mandates are not as well-known. In order to understand how we are supposed to relate to Amalek and Canaan, and in order to understand the aforementioned commandment regarding Amon and Moav of “you shall not seek their peace or their welfare,” we must familiarize ourselves with the laws of waging war and making peace. Rambam [7] writes: 

6:1 – We do not wage war with anyone in the world unless we first make overtures for peace, whether in an optional war or an obligatory war, as it is stated: “When you approach a city to wage war with it, you shall call out to it in peace” (Devarim 20:10). If they make peace and accept the seven Noahide commandments, we do not kill a single soul, and they become a tributary, as it is stated: “they shall be for you as a tributary and shall serve you” (Devarim 20:11) … 

6:4 – But if they do not make peace, or if they make peace but do not accept the seven commandments, then we make war with them; we kill all of the adult males and take their property and children as spoils, but we do not kill neither woman nor child, as it is stated: “and the women and children” (Devarim 20:14; 2:34) – this refers to males who are minors. 

When does this [law of sparing women and children] apply? To an optional war with other nations. But [in the case of an obligatory war] with the seven [Canaanite] nations and Amalek, if they do not accept peace, then we do not spare any soul, as it is stated: “thus shall you do to all of the cities … but of the cities of the [seven Canaanite] nations … you shall not allow any soul to live” (Devarim 20:15-16). Likewise, it says about Amalek: “you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek” (Devarim 25:19). 

And from where do we know that this [mandate to kill every man, woman, and child] only applies to those who don’t make peace? As it is stated: “There was not a city that made peace with the Children of Israel except for the Hivvite inhabitants of Gibeon; they took everything in battle. For it was from Hashem, to harden their hearts toward battle against Israel, in order to destroy them” (Yehoshua 11:19-20) – this implies that they made peace overtures which were not accepted … 

6:6 – We do not make peace overtures to Amon and Moav, as it is stated: “you shall not seek their peace or their welfare” (Devarim 23:10). The Sages said: Since it was stated, “you shall call out to it in peace” one might think that this is the case with Amon and Moav; therefore, the verse says: “you shall not seek out their peace.” Since it was said: “he shall dwell with you in your midst … for his benefit” (ibid. 23:17) one might think that this is the case with Amon and Moav; therefore, the verse says: “or their welfare.” But even though we do not make peace overtures towards them, if they initiate overtures for peace on their own, we accept them. 

Note which nations are omitted from these laws: Edom and Egypt. Despite the fact that we single them out when it comes to entering the congregation of Hashem, we treat them the same as any other nation when it comes to waging war and making peace. 

To summarize: we offer peace to almost every nation – including Amalek, Canaan, Edom, and Egypt – but not to Amon and Moav; however, if they offer peace, we accept it. And if a nation doesn’t accept our offers for peace, we only kill the adult males but spare the women and children – except in the case of Amalek and Canaan, in which case we kill everyone. 

We will conclude this section with a chart summarizing how each of these six nations is treated in marriage and in war, with the anomalies emphasized in bold and red: 

Questions, Answers, and Problems 

There are two overarching questions on all of the foregoing laws: (1) On what basis do we discriminate against these six nations? (2) How is it justifiable to discriminate against these people based on what their ancestors did? 

We will begin by reviewing the pesukim – this time with an emphasis on the reasons given: 

An Amonite or Moabite shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, even their tenth generation shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, to eternity, because of the fact that they did not greet you with bread and water on the road when you were leaving Egypt, and because he hired against you Bilaam son of Beor, of Pesor, Aram Haraim, to curse you. But Hashem, your God, refused to listen to Bilaam, and Hashem, your God, reversed the curse to a blessing for you, because Hashem, your God, loved you. You shall not seek their peace or their welfare, all your days, forever. 

You shall not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother; you shall not reject an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land. Children who are born to them in the third generation may enter the congregation of Hashem. (Devarim 23:4-9) 

The Sefer ha’Chinuch [8] explains why the Torah prohibits us from marrying Amonite and Moabite converts based on the reasons mentioned in the pesukim: 

At the root of this mitzvah lies the reason explicitly given in the parshah: “because of the fact that they did not greet you with bread and water etc. and because he hired against you etc.” Scripture here informs us of the greatness of the quality of gemilus chasadim (acts of kindness) and repulsion towards the qualities of villainy and stinginess. Therefore He commanded us to establish a permanent hatred for them, for they (i.e. the Amonites and Moabites) became so corrupt and abominable as to show the utmost degree of their wickedness and villainy, not meeting with even bread and water a great congregation of weary travelers passing through their borders; and because Moav hired Bilam to curse them. 

According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, it’s not that the Torah has anything against Amonites and Moabites per se. Rather, the Amonites and Moabites embodied bad middos (character traits) which are antithetical to Jewish values. By prohibiting them from marrying native-born Jews, we highlight our opposition to the bad middos associated with those nations – even if the particular Amonite or Moabite doesn’t exhibit them. In other words, our exclusion of Amonites and Moabites is didactic (i.e. intended to teach and reinforce values) and not xenophobic (i.e. stemming from a prejudiced judgment of this particular person based on his nation of origin). 

In light of this explanation one might ask: Why does the prohibition only applies to Amonite and Moabite men, but not women? If these are national traits, shouldn’t we exclude all Amonites and Moabites, as we do with Edom and Egypt? The Sefer ha’Chinuch [9] answers this question: 

The Sages (Talmud Bavli: Yevamos 76b) said as a reason for this: “because it is the derech (lit. way) of a man to meet [oncoming strangers with hospitality] but not of women”; in other words, the women had no hand in the villainy when the Israelites were not met with bread and water, since it is not a woman’s way to go out, and God will not pervert justice to penalize a woman for the villainy of her man. “Far be it from God that He should do wickedness” (Iyov 34:10). 

According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, the Amonite and Moabite women did not participate in the “villainy” of refusing to provide the Jews with bread and water, which is why they are not included in the prohibition. Excluding them from marriage would not achieve the didactic aim.

Rav Hirsch, citing the same Gemara, takes a slightly different approach: 

The reason for this halacha (of distinguishing between men and women) is attributed to the reason the Torah gives for this prohibition: because they did not practice international humaneness; they did not offer food and drink to the people who were passing by their territory and who were exhausted from traveling in the wilderness. Such international humaneness is exercised primarily by men. Hence, the women were not to blame … 

The later prophets continued to reprove Moav for this attribute of harshness toward other nations and inhumane coarseness. When the time came for Moav’s destruction, Yeshayahu described the cause of its fall (Yeshayahu 15-16). All the nations bordering on Moav were crying out about the Moabites’ actions (ibid. 15:8). From far off one heard only tales of this nation’s arrogance, pride, and blind fury (ibid. 16:6). The only way for Moav to avert the evil decree is to turn to kindness. While still at the height of its success, while its light shines like the sun at noon, it must show kindness to unfortunate refugees. As Yeshayahu calls out to Moav: “Give thought, imagine the shades of night had already fallen in bright midday. Hide the outcasts, betray no wanderer, let my outcasts find a home with you. Moav, be their protector against the spoiler. For extortion must cease; spoiling must be brought to an end; oppressors must disappear from the land. A throne shall be established through mercy” (ibid. 16:3-5). 

According to the halacha, the Moabite women had no part in these attributes; they did not banish from their hearts humane feelings toward other nations and did not cultivate singular national pride. This was credited to them as a double merit, since they had to overcome the influence of the men. 

So, too, we should appreciate Ruth, woman of Moav, a woman of exquisite humanity, who was mother of the Davidic kingdom. In her heart burned a flame of love for people, a love that bridges the barrier that separates nation from nation. Surely she had a part in the spirit that, in the tones of the harp of her great-grandson [David], sings of a future morning when nations will be united around God and heralds the break of that dawn. 

According to Rav Hirsch, it’s not just that the women of Moav happened to not participate in villainy. Rather, there was a completely different culture and value system among Moabite men and Moabite women. Moabite men were cruel, arrogant, and unkind, whereas Moabite women exhibited none of these traits. This distinction is reflected in the structure of the halacha. 

What about the additional reason given for Moav: “because he hired against you Bilaam son of Beor, of Pesor, Aram Haraim, to curse you”? This is somewhat problematic. The Sefer ha’Chinuch only mentions this reason as an afterthought. Based on the pasuk here, which says “because he hired,” the hiring of Bilaam sounds like the decision of one man: Balak, King of Moav. If so, why should it affect our judgment of Moav as a whole? And if the king’s decision was driven by his people, then why does the pasuk speak in the singular? 

Other than that minor issue, the Sefer ha’Chinuch seems to be well on his way to answering our questions. But then he is forced to confront a glaring conundrum: If the Torah distances us from Amonite and Moabite men for all generations because they didn’t provide us with bread and water (and secondarily because of the hiring of Bilaam), then certainly we should treat Egypt the same way, since they enslaved us for 210 years – and yet, we only keep Egypt at a distance for two generations! The Sefer ha’Chinuch then provides a problematic answer: 

Now, even though [the people of] Egypt enslaved us and afflicted us for a long time, we are only kept away from them until the third generation. With this we know that it is better for a person to commit many sins than one great act of villainy. By deciding to do a vile act of villainy, without any concern about exposing his mind and his shame before many nations, one thus shows the evil of his temperament and the utter degree of his baseness, and that there is no longer any corrective measure to make himself worthy and to improve his action. His depravity has become so entrenched that it cannot be fixed. A man like that is not fit to intermingle with the blessed people of holiness. 

This answer is baffling on a number of levels. First, does this reasoning even make sense? Are 100 acts of moderate violence always better than one act of severe wrongdoing? It’s debatable, at the very least. Second, enslaving us and embittering our lives wasn’t the only thing Egypt did. They also participated in a state-sponsored extermination of all Jewish boys! Does that not qualify as “one great act of villainy”? Doesn't that show a far more reprehensible national character than neglecting to provide a nation with food and water? Third, what about Amalek? Amalek ambushed us in a cowardly manner, preying upon “the weaklings at [our] rear” when we “were weak and exhausted,” and intended to annihilate us completely. Does that not warrant a prohibition against marrying Amalekite converts on par with Amon and Moav? Fourth, his final few sentences suggest that our refusal to marry Amonite and Moabite men is not just didactic, but actually stems from three assumptions: (a) that Amonite and Moabite men actually possess these bad middos, (b) these qualities are so entrenched they are beyond hope of correction, and (c) allowing them to marry native-born Jews will “corrupt” the nation of Israel. These assumptions are highly problematic! Nations and cultures change. Individuals can choose to rise above the trends of their societies. Who is to say that every Amonite or Moabite will embody an incurable condition of cruelty and villainy, to the extent that the Torah needs to impose a blanket prohibition on them to prevent them from “infecting” our people? If the barbaric and lawless Assyrian capital of Nineveh did teshuvah when rebuked by Yonah, how can we say that Amon and Moav are beyond hope?

But wait: it gets even more problematic. In his presentation of the prohibition against rejecting an Edomite and an Egyptian, the Sefer ha’Chinuch raises our initial question and offers his own answer: 

The root reason for this mitzvah is obvious: it is to inform us that we should not behave with a prohibition toward the descendants of Edom, and should not reject them by kal va’chomer (i.e. reasoning from less to more) from the Amonites, saying: “If Amon and Moav, because of one time that they did not meet us with bread and water, were distanced from us by God, how much more so the Edomites and the Egyptians, who made the Israelites suffer so much!” Therefore, the admonition was given us about them, not to refrain from intermarrying with them. For the periods of servitude to which they subjected us were a decree of Hashem for us, and we ought not to set a permanent hatred in our heart for that. They are rather called our brothers when they undergo conversion and come to shelter under the wings of the shechinah (divine presence). With Amon and Moav, though, there is another reason for hatred toward them: that is the matter of the enormous villainous outrage which they found in their heart to commit, as I wrote shortly above. 

What? The first time around he acknowledged that the Egyptian enslavement of Bnei Yisrael really did involve wrongdoing, but because it involved “many sins” rather than “one great act of villainy,” Egypt didn’t warrant the same treatment as Amon and Moav. Now he’s saying that because the servitude was “a decree of Hashem for us,” then we shouldn’t harbor a permanent hatred. On its surface, this would seem to somewhat excuse the Egyptians for their mistreatment of their Hebrew slaves, and opens up a huge can of worms as to the justice (or injustice) of the divine punishment of Egypt through the ten plagues. 

We are left with mixed feelings about the Sefer ha'Chinuch. The crux of his approach has a lot of merit, but in his efforts to consistently explain the discriminatory laws concerning these four nations, he raises new problems, the solutions to which are not readily apparent.

The Abravanel [10] has a completely different take on the Torah's exclusion of Amon and Moav from the congregation of Hashem based on the background information provided way back in Sefer Bereishis. Amon and Moav descended from Lote, Avraham Avinu’s nephew. Avraham saved Lote on two occasions: by rescuing him after he had been taken captive (Bereishis 14:12-16), and by sending messengers to save him from being destroyed along with the other inhabitants of Sedom and Amora (ibid. Chapter 19). Lote’s wife perishes in the escape and he and his two daughters take shelter in a cave. Under the severely mistaken impression that all human civilization had been destroyed, Lote’s daughters ply their father with wine and sleep with him in an effort to repopulate the earth. The resulting offspring become the progenitors of Amon and Moav. On this basis the Abravanel writes: 

The Amonites and Moabites did not greet [the Children of Israel] with bread and water, nor did they allow them to pass through their land. Since Amon and Moav were descendants of Lote, who received tremendous kindness from Avraham who saved him from the sword and from capture, and in whose merit he escaped from the upheaval of Sedom and Amora, they (i.e. Amon and Moav) were indebted to do so (i.e. to give provisions and allow passage) to Israel – but they did the opposite. Therefore, it is fitting that their punishment be excessive and severe. Additionally, Moav added a rebellious offense to its sin by hiring Bilaam to curse Israel, and although his counsel was thwarted, this is only because Hashem (exalted is He) did not listen to Bilaam and transformed his curse to blessing out of His love for Israel. Therefore, it was fitting that even though [the Children of Israel were commanded] not to provoke war [with Moav] and not to take their land, since they descended from Lote [and were given the Plains of Moav as an inheritance], they were also [commanded] not to seek out their peace and welfare, for just as they were inhospitable to you by not providing you with bread and water, so too, you should not be hospitable to them by allowing them to marry the daughters of Israel. And since they possess a corrupt nature and such a deteriorated character, it is not fitting that they should illicitly intermingle [11] with the seed that Hashem has blessed. For this reason it was stated: “even their tenth generation shall not enter the congregation of Hashem” – meaning to say that this [exclusion] is eternal, which is why it said “all your days, forever.” 

According to the Abravanel, the sin of Amon and Moav was not merely that they refused to provide us with bread and water; rather, it’s that they refused to provide us with bread and water despite being doubly indebted to us, on account of the kindness shown to their forefather Lote by our forefather Avraham. This was more than an act of international inhospitality. It was also an ungrateful refusal to recognize and repay the descendants of Avraham for the acts of kindness which resulted in their very existence. 

The Abravanel then contrasts Amon and Moav with Edom and Egypt: 

It is not fitting to reject [the Edomites and the Egyptians] completely, like Amon and Moav – the Edomite because of his familial relation, “for he is your brother,” and it is appropriate for a person to love his relative even if he is wronged by him, and the Egyptian because “you were sojourners in his land,” and Yaakov went down to Egypt because of the “fevers of famine” (Eichah 5:10) and found [relief] at the time of his trouble, as the Sages said: “they provided lodging at a time of pressing need.” Therefore, even though they did evil to you, it is appropriate for you not to reject them [entirely] and not to withhold their reward. This is [the reason why] “children who are born to them in the third generation” may marry [native-born Jewish] women and enter into the congregation of Hashem. 

Although we were wronged by Edom, we should be more forgiving because they are our brothers. Although we were wronged by Egypt, we were also saved by them at a time when our forefathers were in danger of dying of starvation. Indeed, we owe our existence to Egypt in the same way that Amon and Moav owe their existence to us.

Next, the Abravanel addresses two problems: (1) We are related to Amon and Moav, so why not treat them like Edom? (2) Edom refused to provide us with bread and water, as the pesukim in Bamidbar 20:14-21 [12] imply, so why don’t we treat them like Amon and Moav? He writes: 

But why didn’t it mention a “brotherly covenant” with Amon and Moav as it did with Edom? And why didn’t it mention the fact that Edom didn’t greet us with bread and water, as it mentioned by Amon and Moav? The answer, according to me, is as follows: 

Although Edom harbored animosity [towards Israel] and didn’t allow Israel to pass through its territory and didn’t greet them with bread and water, they had a huge claim against us, because Yaakov took the birthright from Eisav, his older brother, and also took his blessings through deception. It would have been enough for Edom if they didn’t greet Israel with war, as did Amalek. Therefore it said: “do not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother” – in other words, there is a strong relationship between you, and he didn’t harm you, despite having a huge claim against you. 

However, Amon and Moav did not have a claim [which would constitute a valid reason] to hate Israel and harm them. [To the contrary,] they should have granted them a double benefit, in accordance with the benefit that Avraham gave their father. Neither Lote nor his descendants were subjected to insults from Avraham and his descendants, as Eisav received from Yaakov. Therefore, Amon and Moav were deserving of great punishment for refusing to benefit Israel, whereas Edom was deserving of great reward for not harming them. Additionally, our relatedness to Edom was great and powerful, since Eisav and Yaakov were the sons of Yitzchak and Rivkah. However, even though Lote was related to Avraham, that [relationship] was distant, since he was his nephew; also, the descendants of Lote came about in an improper manner from his two daughters. For this reason, Edom is called “brother” in Scripture (see Malachi 1:2), whereas Amon and Moav are never referred to as [our] “brothers” in any place. 

According to the Abravanel, Edom had every right to hate us, to deny us provisions, to refuse passage through their territory, and – remarkably – to go to war with us, on account of our forefather Yaakov’s taking of the birthright and blessings from their forefather Eisav. Although Edom’s wrongdoing towards Israel still warrants a reprisal, this long-standing claim combined with our kinship mitigates the punishment that they would have otherwise deserved. Amon and Moav may participated in the same international relations misconduct, but their crime is considered far worse on account of their indebtedness to Avraham. That, combined with the fact that they are only “distant cousins” rather than “brothers,” is why the Torah gave them the full degree of punishment they deserved. 

Let us assess the Abravanel’s approach. On the one hand, he avoids many of the problems we raised on the Sefer ha’Chinuch’s explanations. The Abravanel's approach is firmly grounded in the pesukim and even sheds light on the background information about Amon and Moav provided in Sefer Bereishis. 

However, there is one major problem: according to the Abravanel, the Torah is effectively punishing descendants for the wrongdoings of their ancestors. According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, the Torah excludes Amon and Moav from the congregation in order to reinforce our rejection of the bad middos associated with their nations, and this didactic exclusion from the congregation is equally relevant to any and every generation of Amonites and Moabites. In contrast, the Abravanel's explanation only accounts for why those particular groups of Amonites, Moabites, and Edomites who actually committed these crimes against the Children of Israel in the Wilderness were worthy of punishment. Why should their offspring be similarly punished for all generations? If, for example, the son of a Holocaust survivor had the opportunity to repay the offspring of his father’s liberator and neglected to do so, he would certainly be worthy of censure – but would this justify punishing all of his offspring until the end of time? Lehavdil, when North Koreans commit crimes against the regime which are punishable by life imprisonment, they are subject to the "three generations of punishment" policy established by Kim Il-Sung, by which their children and grandchildren are also imprisoned for life. We recognize this as inexcusably unjust - so how can the Torah punish future generations of Amonites, Moabites, Edomites, and Egyptians for the crimes of a particular generation of their ancestors? “Far be it from God that He should do wickedness” (Iyov 34:10).

Concluding Thoughts 

In this article we set out to answer the question: Should the descendants of one nation or ethnic group be held accountable for the wrongdoings of their predecessors? Our ultimate objective was to shed light on the similar questions being asked in America and around the world today. 

Did we emerge from our investigation with a clear answer to this question? Absolutely not! We now have more questions and problems than we did when we started. 

But does that mean that our investigation was a failure? Not at all! If anything, it has become abundantly clear that the answer to this question is not simple or clear cut by any stretch of the imagination. For example, if one believes that descendants of slave owners should not be held accountable to pay reparations to the descendants of slaves, then why does the Torah hold the descendants of the Amonites and Moabites accountable for their ancestors' injustices towards our ancestors, as the Abravanel explained? And if one maintains that such reparations should be made, due to the centuries of oppression that African American slaves suffered at the hands of their masters, what about the Sefer ha'Chinuch's statement that "it is better for a person to commit many sins than one great act of villainy" or the fact that Egypt's punishment for enslaving Israel is mitigated by the fact that they provided for us in our time of need? Perhaps there is a statute of limitations on this transgenerational justice in the case of slavery as there is in the case of Egypt? And for those who either support or condemn the rioting and looting in the name of BLM, what about the Abravanel's view that the Edomites were somewhat justified in their mistreatment of the Israelites on account of what Yaakov did to Eisav hundreds of years earlier? 

And perhaps someone will object to our entire endeavor to draw parallels and inferences from these Torah laws to other historical cases and current events. That, too, is a legitimate possibility. Perhaps only Hashem, in His Omniscience and love of righteousness and justice, is in the position to enact such transgenerational measures of justice and retribution, but for human beings to even attempt to do so would be sheer folly.

This is precisely the type of confusion that I believe we need in this country right now. In an era plagued by extremism, absolutism, and "us versus them" politics, it is a step in the right direction to acknowledge that the problems with which we are confronted are far more complex and nuanced than we'd like to think. The difficulties we encountered in our analysis should give us pause, and in that pause, we should reassess whether the feelings of certainty we have on current events are backed by reason or merely by passion.

Footnotes:

[1] There are certainly other views on these topics, but I’m most familiar with the Rambam, and I’m sticking to him. 

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Kedushah, Hilchos Issurei Biah 

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha’Mitzvos: Lo Taaseh #54-55 

[4] Some want to argue that according to the Rambam it is prohibited for an Amalekite to convert to Judaism at all. This argument falls apart when one considers the fact that the Rambam doesn’t mention Amalek at all in the laws of conversion and doesn’t mention conversion in the laws of Amalek. The pasuk says: “David then asked the young man who was telling him, ‘Where are you from?’ and he replied, ‘I am the son of an Amalekite convert’” (II Shmuel 1:13), and we have every indication to believe that the Rambam would take that pasuk at face value. 

[5] This is a general principle in halacha: whenever there is a mixture of indistinguishable entities and one of them separates from the mixture, we assume that it came from the majority component. 

[6] It is for this reason that I decided to characterize these laws as “ethnic retribution” rather than “national retribution.” The Rambam does not say that these marriage restrictions are null and void because the national identities or cultures of Amon, Moav, Edom, and Egypt have ceased to exist. Rather, he says that Amonite, Moabite, Edomite, and Egyptian individuals are still out there – even though their nations have long since vanished – but the problem is that we just can’t tell who they are. In other words, the prohibition focuses on ethnicity, not national identity. Theoretically (albeit not halachically), if we knew for certain that a particular male convert was an ethnic Amonite or Moabite, he would not be allowed to marry a native-born Jewish woman. 

[7] ibid. Mishneh Torah: Sefer Shoftim, Hilchos Melachim u’Milchamos 

[8] Sefer ha’Chinuch: Ki Seitzei Mitzvah #561 

[9] This passage actually comes later on. I’m citing it here to maintain the flow of the article. 

[10] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Devarim 23:4-9 

[11] Here the Abravanel uses the word “kilayim” which means “forbidden mixture.” 

[12] See? I told you this connected to Chukas and Balak!