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The Way of the World

By Ofir Haivry

On the natural morality that undergirds Jewish thought.


 
VII. The Song of Moses
The “way of the world,” then, is the ancient root of what could be a revived Jewish conservatism. Deeply embedded in the cultural traditions of our people, it defines the Jewish people’s common sense, and the basic moral truths without which they could not have survived. Although it is now but a faint echo of what was once a great and venerated melody, it still lives within us, half-hidden, yet guiding the instincts of our nation. Without our noticing, it makes itself felt in our daily lives, in a thousand minor customs, sayings and connections—even as we remain ignorant of its identity.
Today there is particular need for reinvigorating the ancient Israelite conservative spirit. This is a time of perpetual revolution, of the constant emergence of new, conflicting movements which, again and again, seek to remake the world on new foundations. In such an era, an articulation of the greatest and oldest conservative idea—one whose contributions to the world and to the Jewish national ethos are without parallel—can stand in the breach against the onslaught of revolutionary forces, and in defense of what is eternal. The “way of the world” lives on today in many traditions, intuitions and concepts. But these must be brought to light, that they may coalesce into a common worldview that can speak to the variegated communities of the Jewish people of today, in Israel and in the diaspora. And because the desire for such a common vocabulary transcends the need to share in a common past, it must also seek to understand the problems of the present, and offer a vision of a great future.
This is an enormous task. After so many generations of exile, we suffer from a severe warping of the national consciousness, which is likely to continue for many years to come. We may draw encouragement, however, from the great successes of Zionism. These reflect upon the fundamentally conservative instincts of Israel, mature instincts that seek only the opportunity to reassert themselves. The revival of the Hebrew language, the return of a large number of the people to a considerable part of its land, the reestablishment of the Jewish state—these are among the colossal achievements of a conservative worldview that sought to renew itself by building upon its great past, that preferred the practical to the abstract, and that saw itself as carrying forward the flame of the Jewish people’s history. The very idea of Zionism, of the need for the Jewish nation to take responsibility for its own future within a political context, is an expression of a conservative view of human nature, a recognition of the dangers awaiting a people that entrusts its fate to others. And a renewed “way of the world” can constitute the foundation upon which the Zionist enterprise may reach fulfillment: The consolidation of an enduring national experience that will enable Israel to extricate itself from the confusion it experiences today, and adopt a clear direction.
Renewing the original “way of the world,” and restoring it to the dimensions of a national-political “righteousness,” will require a broad cultural awakening, a reassertion of the Jewish conservative tradition in society, art, culture and politics. This conservatism must speak on behalf of the nation’s collective memory, which at present is consistently undermined; on behalf of rediscovering the past as a living tradition; and on behalf of the truth of a moral present which can be learned only from the lessons of the past—what Burke called a “partnership between present and past” for a meaningful future.155
Today we may be realizing the message of the Song of Moses in Deuteronomy, which calls Israel by its poetic name “Jeshurun”—a cognate of yashar, or “righteous.” This text predicts that after returning to the land of Israel and eating and drinking of its bounty, “Jeshurun grew fat, and kicked,”156 basking in its windfall while losing sight of its original mission. Today, too, the Jewish people find themselves having traversed the terrible desert of exile and arrived in their promised land, only to lose sight of their original vision, their guiding principles. Yet the Song of Moses also proposes a remedy, one we ignore at our peril: A common denominator which will also be a movement embracing the disparate elements of the Jewish people while restoring arighteous political order: “Then there will be a King in Jeshurun, when the heads of the people assemble, the tribes of Israel together.”157
 

 Ofir Haivry is Editor-in-Chief of Azure.



Notes
1. Leviticus Raba 9:3.
2. From “They Say: There Is a Land (Omrim: Yeshna Eretz),” in Saul Tchernichovsky, Selected Poems (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1965), p. 210. [Hebrew]
3. Giambattista Vico, The New Science, trans. Thomas Goddard Bergin and Max Harold Fisch (Ithaca: Cornell, 1984), p. 62. See also Amos Funkenstein, Perceptions of Jewish History (Berkeley: University of California, 1993), pp. 131-132.
4. These terms relate only in the broadest sense to the worldviews represented by conservatism and revolutionary thought, and it would be incorrect to reduce their meaning to ordinary political identity. Admittedly, they constitute the foundation for today’s distinction between the political “Right” and “Left,” but no great effort is required to discover inconsistencies between the views and deeds of a political camp, and the philosophical principles on which it is presumably based.
To understand the conservative or revolutionary nature of a political act requires exploring not how it is termed in public rhetoric, but its significance to the preservation or overturning of social and political dispositions, traditions and institutions. British conservatives extol an event in English history known as “the Glorious Revolution,” as conservatives in the United States do the American Revolution: In the conservative view, both of these episodes preserved or restored the basics of the traditional sociopolitical order in the face of existential threats. The French and Bolshevik Revolutions are viewed by conservatives as catastrophes, however, because they constituted open breaks with the past and the creation ex nihilo of a new sociopolitical order.
Those holding revolutionary beliefs, on the other hand, want to dismantle the foundations of the old order. The more moderate among them champion the steady erosion of the conservative order and the creation of a revolutionary society through gradual reform, whereas their more impatient comrades attempt to effect a complete change through revolutionary deeds more extreme than any that have gone before. Each revolutionary “failure” to establish the model society—in France, Russia, Germany, China, Cambodia—teaches them the same lesson: The sought-after new era did not reach the light of day because the revolutionary rampage was insufficiently intense, cruel and unbridled. Next time, they promise themselves, they will try harder.
5. The first revolutionary trend can be called the “natural” approach since it connects moral good with man’s natural tendencies, on an intrinsic, almost biological level. The second revolutionary trend can be called the “utilitarian” approach: If there are no absolute values, perforce anything that people or societies decide is useful—decisions they are capable of arriving at rationally—is right or “good” for them. (And it is impossible, from the standpoint of values, to censure a society that has decided, for example, to purge itself of those it considers useless.) Thus the utilitarian and the natural schools reach the identical conclusion, that human actions deriving from man’s natural inclinations are desirable.
6. Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers,on Bias, 88a.
7. See the verdict delivered by the Barotse elders in a trial concerning a family dispute: “We have the power to make you divide the crops, for this is our law, and we will see this is done. But we have not the power to make you behave like an upright man.” Cited in Patrick Devlin, The Enforcement of Morals (London: Oxford, 1965), p. 20.
8. Plato, The Republic, 372d.
9. Among the Christian sects of this type were the extreme Anabaptists of the Middle Ages, and the Taiping in China during the second half of the nineteenth century; in Jewish history, the Sabbateans and Frankists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; and in the history of Islam, the messianic uprising in 1164 by the extremist Isma’ilite sect known as the “Hash’shashin.”
10. It has also been common for modern revolutionary movements to garb themselves in quasi-religious form and fervor, from the French Revolution—which attempted to establish state rites for the “religion of reason”—to Communism and Nazism, which argued that the old rules, religion and even structure of society should be cast aside in light of the inevitable progress of absolute, “scientific” truth leading man to his natural state (for the former, this being the era of Communist world order; for the latter, a racist utopia).
11. “It is plain that human reason unassisted failed men in its great and proper business of morality. It never from unquestionable principles, by clear deductions, made out an entire body of the ‘law of nature.’” John Locke, The Reasonableness of Christianity (Bristol: Thoemmes, 1997), p. 140.
12. Plato, The Republic, 501b-c.
13. Plato, The Republic, 500b-c.
14. Plato, The Republic, 501e.
15. Aristotle, Politics, Book 8, 1268b.
16. Aristotle, Politics, Book 1, 1253a. See also in the same passage his widely known definition of man as a “political animal.”
17. Plato, The Republic, 501a.
18. In 213 B.C.E. Shih Huang-Ti, the first emperor to unify China, burned all “unnecessary” books— that is, all books that lacked the Emperor’s imprimatur, or did not relate to technical subjects such as agriculture, medicine or astrology—in order to shape the character of his subjects in the best image, as he saw it. And it is said that after the conquest of Alexandria in 641 C.E., the caliph Omar was asked what to do with the city’s great library, the most important repository of written works in the ancient world. Omar replied, “Burn the libraries, because all their worth is to be found in the Koran.” Later, after the end of the revolutionary phase of Islam, this religion also fell under the sway of conservative thought, which valued the preservation and study of ancient texts and is credited with saving many of them from oblivion. The Voltaire citation is from Michael Oakeshott, Rationalism in Politics (London: Methuen, 1962), p. 5.
19. Karl Marx, “The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte” in Robert C. Tucker, ed., The Marx-Engels Reader (New York: Norton, 1978), p. 595.
20. The most comprehensive attempt to realize a new revolutionary society in which the goodness of human nature would find its full expression was the Communist regime founded by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia in 1975, under the leadership of Pol Pot. The Khmer Rouge declared the beginning of their rule to be “Year Zero,” when everything in Cambodia would start over: Cities were evacuated, the professions and all signs of education, even the wearing of eyeglasses, were abolished, money and private property were done away with, and all evidence of the traditional culture, including the old books, was obliterated, as was even the family. Those who did not properly adapt to the new situation were diagnosed as incurable carriers of the “virus” of the hated past, who should therefore be liquidated. Within three years the Khmer Rouge succeeded in killing almost two million of Cambodia’s people (nearly one-third the total population) before the country was rescued from this madness by the invasion of the Vietnamese army. David Chandler, Brother Number One (Oxford: Westview, 1992), pp. 120-137.
21. See, for example, David Gurevitz, Post-modernism (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1997), pp. 24-28. [Hebrew]
22. Another revolutionary, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, approvingly christened this platonic society “civil promiscuity.” Allan Bloom, Love and Friendship (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993), p. 440.
23. See, for example, Hillel Halkin, “Feminizing Jewish Studies,” Commentary, February 1998, pp. 39-45.
24. George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four (London: Penguin, 1954), p. 197.
25. Walt Whitman, “Song of Myself,” in Leaves of Grass (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1960), p. 51.
26. Robert Frost, “Mending Wall,” in Collected Poems (London: Penguin, 1973), pp. 43-44.
27. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract (New York: Penguin, 1968), p. 49.
28. Eugene Pottier, “The Internationale,” traditional translation of Charles Kerr.
29. Edmund Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France (Oxford: Oxford, 1993), p. 19. See also Niccolo Machiavelli, Discourses on the First Ten Books of Livy, Book 1, chapter 3.
30. Burke, Reflections, p. 58.
31. Burke, Reflections, p. 64.
32. Vico, New Science, p. 60.
33. Vico, New Science, pp. 97-98. It is interesting to note the similarity to the rabbinical “die rather than transgress” prohibitions.
34. Vico, New Science, p. 98.
35. Vico, New Science, p. 67. The conservative attitude regarding the existence of absolute human values, which Vico shares, has always, and especially in recent times, been under attack by the relativists among the revolutionaries. They cannot tolerate the conservative concept of there being universal absolute moral concepts that every individual and society are capable of acknowledging—and if not, should remove themselves from the society of others. Revolutionaries, who subscribe to the approach that human morality is subject to transient human agreement, without absolute good or evil, point to presumably cultured and developed societies in which the eating of human sacrifices was accepted practice, to substantiate their claim that even such a horrendous act cannot be condemned by universal moral criteria. Conservatives rejected this approach. An example is the highly influential address delivered by the prominent Spanish Catholic theologian (and priest-confessor to Emperor Charles V), Domingo de Soto, who explained his condemnation of cannibalism and other transgressions by the natives of the American continent not in terms of Christian morality, of which the natives had no knowledge, but rather on the basis of the moral and natural order of all humanity. Friedrich Heer, The Holy Roman Empire (New York: Praeger, 1968), pp. 171-172. In support of this position, it should be noted that even among developed cultures which engaged in human sacrifice and cannibalism as normative practices, a feeling of their problematic nature in principle bubbled to the surface, spontaneously, as it were, and they oftentimes expected divine retribution for these acts as offending the natural moral order.
Two examples suffice to demonstrate this. The first is state rites of human sacrifice by the ancient Romans over the course of centuries, engaged in by Julius Caesar, Trajan, Aurelian, Commodus and others. Many Roman citizens experienced a growing sense of unease with what Pliny termed these “monstrous rites.” The Romans often tried to conceal this practice, and several times attempted to outlaw it, during the Republic as well as during the reigns of Augustus and Hadrian. The recurring legislation, however, demonstrates that the rite continued until the rise of Christianity in the fourth century C.E. Lord Acton, “Human Sacrifice,” in Essays in Religion, Politics and Morality (Indianapolis: Liberty Classics, 1988), pp. 395-442. While it may be argued that the shame the Romans experienced over this practice was influenced by Greek and Jewish criticism, a second example may be cited from a culture where this shame developed with no external influence. The Aztecs, who at the beginning of the sixteenth century were masters of a flourishing empire extending over a substantial portion of Central America, established a regime which gave a central role to mass rites of human sacrifice and cannibalism, symbolizing the might and success of the empire. But significant circles within the Aztec elite felt that their cult of human sacrifice was contrary to some basic existential justice, which would eventually take its revenge and bring disaster upon them. Aztec narratives relate that one of their idols, Quetzalcoatl, condemned human sacrifice; when they did not heed him, he left and journeyed westward to the sea, promising that one day he would return and punish them for the evil they had done. When the first small band of Spanish conquistadors arrived, many Aztecs, led by their king Montezuma, regarded them as the agents of heavenly retribution for the detestable practice. Their anticipation of disaster and sense of guilt are considered significant factors in the Aztec empire’s rapid and complete collapse. See Hugh Thomas, Conquest (New York: Touchstone, 1993).
36. Vico, New Science, p. 63.
37. Vico, New Science, pp. 63-65.
38. Within Confucianism is a debate over the basic question of whether human nature is good, as was claimed by Meng-Tzu, or evil, as maintained by the stream headed by Hsun-Tzu. In practice, however, all Confucianists agree that the way to achieve proper and upright behavior is to uphold traditional moral and social principles—the conservative understanding of the need for restraining the destructive potential in human nature. It is worth noting the similarities between the spirit and framework of Confucianism and those of the Noahide laws in the Israelite tradition. See also Arthur Cotterell, China: A History (London: Pimlico, 1990), pp. 68-76.
39. Legalism rose to prominence during a period when the whole of China was united under the rule of its first emperor, Shih Huang-Ti. He sought to establish a new order and maintain precise and detailed supervision of all human activity, on a utilitarian basis, through complete subordination of everyone to the imperial will. To this end, all books were burned (among them the Confucianist texts) that were of no benefit to imperial rule, or were likely to lead to challenges to the emperor’s commands. This experiment did not last more than a few years after the first emperor’s death, and with the fall of his dynasty Legalism also came to an end.
Even in the modern age, Communism in China made tremendous efforts to erase the Confucianist tradition, which it considered the symbol of backwardness and of the past, but to no avail. Today Communist ideas are dying out, and one finds a growing willingness in mainland China to accept Confucianism as a positive social force which contributes to public life a dimension of “accepted wisdom,” and whose power and influence are constantly on the rise. Cotterell, China, pp. 68-76.
40. Lao-Tzu, Tao Te Ching, verse 19; and note, for example, verse 32. See also Cotterell, China, pp. 68-76.
41. Here the term is used according to its meaning in ordinary speech. Webster’s Third New International Dictionary (Springfield: Merriam, 1970), vol. III, p. 2588. The term is used with varying meanings in different philosophical traditions, from ancient times through the Middle Ages and into the development of Cartesian philosophy. See the discussion on this point in Funkenstein, Perceptions, p. 235. In Italian the parallel term is buonsenso (literally, “good sense”).
42. This view was particularly powerful in England, where even the constitution was never formulated in a single document, but rather through the gradual accumulation of customs and legislation. One might term this the constitution of received law.
43. Devlin, Enforcement, p. 15.
44. Burke, Reflections, p. 5.
45. The reader should be warned against misunderstandings likely to arise from the fact that in our time many revolutionary thinkers have tried to change the significance of the term by associating it with schools of thought in which it is synonymous with a form of rationalism (in the philosophy of John Dewey, or in Thomas Reid’s term “common sense realism”).
46. William Butler Yeats, “The Seven Sages,” in The Works of W.B. Yeats (Ware: Wordsworth, 1994), p. 204.
47. Burke, Reflections, p. 87. It should be noted, however, that according to the conservative view, recognition of and respect for the past are not sufficient to reap its benefits; it is also necessary to prevent the heritage of the past from becoming an empty conglomeration of old customs or a historical past disconnected from the present. A view which sanctifies a prevalent custom or opinion for its own sake expresses a morally relativistic philosophy—the opposite of conservatism. The conservative philosophy seeks to create an improved society by implanting abstract moral principles within frameworks of accepted custom and wisdom, thus constraining them from becoming extreme. In this way it also constrains the accepted wisdom, preventing it from transforming practical virtues and customs into principle for their own sake because they are continually tested against the moral principles that form the basis of society. In other words it maintains checks and balances which, according to conservatives, are the high road to an improved society.
48. Burke, Reflections, pp. 31-33.
49. Burke, Reflections, p. 149.
50. Friedrich Hayek, The Road to Serfdom (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1994), p. 47.
51. George Washington’s Farewell Address, September 19, 1796; Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, first published in 1835. This work deals extensively with the vital role of religion in upholding the political system in the United States.
52. Burke, Reflections, pp. 93-94.
53. Burke, Reflections, pp. 90-92.
54. Joseph de Maistre, cited in Jacob Talmon, Political Messianism (London: Secker and Warburg, 1960), p. 314. On religion as the basis of civil order and cultural existence, see also Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince, chapter 26.
55. Talmon, Political Messianism, p. 314.
56. A few examples (from among many) will suffice: In the biblical period, the book of Proverbs repeatedly emphasizes the fundamental importance of maintaining tradition and transmitting it through the family (for example, Proverbs 6:20; and Proverbs 4:1, 7:1); and the Rabbis express these ideas in sayings such as “The general principle is that one should not deviate from the prevailing custom.” Derech Eretz Zuta 1; Baba Metzia 86b. Cf. Avoda Zara 5b, and Yigael Yadin, Bar Kochba (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1971), p. 134. Also consider the popular celebration of Lag Ba’omer, a tradition with distinctively nationalistic overtones and expressing the popular view regarding Bar Kochba and his struggle, which the Jewish people preserved in custom throughout the period of exile, even though this holiday is not mentioned in the Bible, Mishna, Talmud or any of the sayings of the Rabbis—and, in fact, it is not known what exactly is being celebrated.
57. Thus, for example, one of England’s great statesmen, Benjamin Disraeli (himself of Jewish origin), held that the Western conservative worldview represented the modern expression of ancient Israelite moral principles. See Russell Kirk, The Conservative Mind (Washington: Regnery, 1995), p. 261.
58. The main problem in trying to understand the Jewish conservative tradition may be that it does not often explicitly identify itself as such. This is because the vast majority of the Jewish people’s thought and tradition from biblical times until today have been conservative, so that the use of the term in this context has lost all significance. The unique synthesis of the political with the religious in the history of the Jewish people meant that revolutionary thinkers or groups quickly found themselves beyond the pale, unless they recanted. This is not to imply that there never were (and are not now) revolutionary thinkers and movements in Jewish culture; rather, that in general the characteristic structure of this culture has forced them to the margins in the wake of the central stream of thought and life, which is clearly conservative.
59. Genesis 3:22. Translations from the Bible are based (often loosely) on the new JPS translation. Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1988).
60. Genesis 6:5, 8:21; also Ecclesiastes 7:29 and Psalms 25:21.
61. The subject and ramifications of the notion of “natural morality” are too vast to treat in any depth here, but it is important to at least clarify what is meant by the word “natural.” “Nature,” in the sense of the living, growing natural world, of course lacks any ethical dimension in the human sense of the word; ethics is the human quality which works against “nature” in general, and the “nature” of man in particular. It is thus important to grasp that the term “natural morality” is opposed to “nature” and “human nature.”
62. See Maimonides, Mishneh Tora, Laws of Repentance 5:1-3.
63. John Milton, Paradise Lost, chapter 8, lines 653-654.
64. See Michael Grant, The History of Ancient Israel (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1996).
65. Proverbs 8:11, 8:10, 8:15-16, 8:13. The best example of that sharp opposition to revolutionism is “It will save you from the way of evil men, from men of overturning [in Hebrew, tahapuchot, the same root as that of revolution] mouth; who leave the paths of rectitude to follow the ways of darkness; who rejoice in doing evil and exult in the duplicity of evil men.” Proverbs 2:12-16.
66. Proverbs 4:10-13.
67. On the perversion of justice: Proverbs 17:15, 18:5, 24:23-25; on false witness: Proverbs 19:5, 25:18.
68. On respecting Tora principles: Proverbs 21:27, 29:28; on idolatry: Proverbs 28:9.
69. Proverbs 2:16-17, 6:26-29, and of course chapter 31, which contains the well-known passage, “Woman of Valor.”
70. Proverbs 24:11-12, 6:16.
71. Proverbs 20:10, 20:23.
72. On decency, compassion and consideration: Proverbs 6:30-31, 21:13, 25:17, 25:21, 25:28. It is no accident that the verses of Proverbs and the words of the Rabbis concerning the “way of the world”are markedly similar; for example, compare Proverbs 25:17 with Yoma 75b.
73. To’eva in its various versions is perhaps the strongest condemnation of a human act to be found in the Bible; the word appears principally in relation to violations of the Noahide laws, and particularly the “die rather than transgress” prohibitions. For a completely different context, see Genesis 43:32.
74. Proverbs 6:16-19.
75. Shabbat 81b. See also Megila 3b and Brachot 19b; compare with the saying of Shamai: “Receive each man with a pleasant countenance.” Mishna Avot 1:16.
76. Cf. Eruvin 100b.
77. Derech Eretz Raba 5; also Kala 7, Genesis Raba 11:6.
78. Kidushin 33a.
79. Deuteronomy 33:4.
80. Leviticus Raba 9:3.
81. Judah Halevi, The Kuzari, chapter 4, verse 13.
82. Lamentations Raba 2:13.
83. Sanhedrin 56a. This fundamental group of laws has many secondary ramifications: One tradition lists thirty commandments derived from these seven. Hulin 92a.
84. Yoma 82a.
85. Sanhedrin 57a. In my opinion, blasphemy here replaces idolatry, because idolatry gradually becomes less serious; the idolatry of the First Temple period not infrequently involved human sacrifice or unrestricted orgies (and occasionally both). As time went on these rites vanished, due among other things to the influence of Christianity and Islam, and idolatry became more a spiritual than a physical sin. This explains why the Jewish sages disagree on the question of whether Christianity is idolatry, and why virtually all agree that Islam is not.
86. Thus it has been from the time of the nations’ dispersal among the sons of Noah, and even more so from the Tower of Babel, and until the description of God, judge of mankind, as “Judge of Nations.” For example, Psalms 96:13, 96:19, 98:9, 67:4-6.
87. Exodus 19:5. See also Leviticus 20:24-26 and Deuteronomy 26:19.
88. The history of the Patriarchs and the promise to Abraham can only be understood properly against this background.
89. Both Vico and Burke saw the nation as a highly important framework for developing and establishing accepted wisdom, since the nation, more than any other human group, is born and exists on the conceptual basis of the importance of historical continuity.
90. Biblical support for the idea that the destruction resulted from general moral transgressions—not non-observance of the Tora—can be found in Jeremiah 34:9-18.
91. Yoma 9b. However, there are other interpretations of the destruction, according to which non-observance of the Tora played a central role in bringing about exile. See, for example, Mishna Avot 5:9 and Shabat 33a.
92. Tana D’bei Eliyahu Raba, chapter 14.
93. Judges 2:11, 3:6-8, 3:12, 4:1-2, 6:1, 8:33-35, 10:6-7, 13:1.
94. Judges 3:11, 3:30, 5:31, 8:28.
95. Judges 17-18.
96. Judges 17-18.
97. Judges 18:5-6.
98. Judges 19-21.
99. Judges 19:30.
100. Judges 20:28.
101. Judges 21:24-25.
102. A similar use of “right” and “righteous” can be found in I Chronicles 13:1-4, in the description of the transfer of the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. This positive act is described as the initiative and decision of the populace with no divine intervention, and is justified only in the phrase: “The entire assembly agreed to do so, for the proposal was right in the eyes of all the people.” I Chronicles 13:4.
103. I Samuel 8:5.
104. I Samuel 12:1-5. Concerning this balance being maintained throughout Samuel’s career, and not just at its end: “Young Samuel, meanwhile, grew in esteem and favor both with God and with men.” I Samuel 2:26.
105. I Samuel 8:6-7.
106. I Samuel 8:18-20. In all biblical references the institution of the monarchy is given a negative appraisal, or at best is seen as a necessary evil. The book of Judges stands out for its negative view of monarchy as opposing the covenant of Israel with God, and in particular in its description of the acts of the judge Gideon and his family. Judges 8:23, 9:8-15, 9:22. Furthermore, in I Samuel 8 are objections in principle, as well as a particularly negative attitude to the establishment of the monarchy. Also Deuteronomy 17:14-20 states explicitly that the monarchy at its core is not a command of God but a desire of the people, who are seeking to adopt the regime of their neighbors; and even though God acquiesces in their request he also establishes a list of restrictions: The king must be a Jew and not a Gentile, he is forbidden to accumulate too much wealth and power, and he must learn Tora. These restrictions are stated explicitly so that power and pride will not lead the king to dubious policies, which is taken to be an inherent danger in the institution of monarchy. On this subject, see also Ephraim Urbach, “Between Rulers and Ruled: Some Aspects of the Jewish Tradition” in Totalitarian Democracy and After (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1984), pp. 401-403.
107. See I Samuel 12:14-15. An example of this is the census taken by King David—without divine permission and in opposition to God’s command—which resulted in many Israelites dying in a plague. Although the people’s role in the census was passive, they still suffered for David’s transgression because it was governmental, not personal. II Samuel 24.
108. I Samuel 12:23-25.
109. I Chronicles 29:17-19.
110. I believe there is a relationship between “perfect heart” and “with all his heart,” but it is not clear if they are synonymous. The term “perfect heart,” meaning good and righteous, stands in apparent contradiction to what is said of Jeroboam: “I tore away the kingdom from the House of David and gave it to you. But you have not been like my servant David, who kept my commandments and followed me with all his heart, doing only what was right in my sight.” I Kings 14:8. David is described here as somebody who did what was upright “with all his heart.” Perhaps the distinction is between performance with proper intention (“with all his heart”) and successfully maintaining a proper way of life (“a perfect heart”). It is interesting to note the biblical description of Solomon’s inability to fulfill his father’s blessing, even in the realm of righteousness. I Kings 3:11.
111. Distorted rites practiced in Bethel and Dan, which involved golden calves yet were directed to the God of Israel and not to foreign deities.
112. II Kings 10:30-31.
113. I Kings 22:43.
114. Amaziah in II Kings 14:3; Azariah in II Kings 15:3; Jotham in II Chronicles 27:2.
115. II Chronicles 25:2.
116. II Chronicles 31:20-21.
117. II Chronicles 14:1.
118. II Chronicles 16:7. The expression “with all his heart” is also used regarding Josiah, but in unique circumstances, with no mention of goodness or righteousness. II Kings 23:25.
119. For this reason, the Israelite political tradition does not brook the possibility of a total or totalitarian state. God is the ethical sovereign, yet the Bible contains no theocratic regime. The period of the Judges is decentralized and individualistic to the extreme: Even the monarchical framework is established as a limited regime, regarded from its inception as lacking and therefore not total. Kingship is limited, and the place of religion is defined in the roles of the prophets and the priests, and later in the Rabbis. There is integration of religion and state, but in this integration the prophets (and sometimes the priests as well), and after them the Rabbis, interfere in the acts of the executive authority only by virtue of their high moral standing: They have no formal authority or practical ability to enforce their opinions whatsoever. The public and the king are free to accept the exhortations of prophet or sage, or to refuse them—and suffer the consequences. The only case in which an Israelite regime approached a theocracy was during the reign of the Hasmoneans, whose rulers united the priesthood with the kingship. This state of affairs actually undermined the legitimacy of their regime, and the primary opponents of this union were the perushim, the men of religion.
120. I Samuel 15.
121. I Samuel 15:9.
122. I Samuel 15:33.
123. I Samuel 15:19.
124. I Samuel 15:13.
125. I Samuel 15:24.
126. This can be compared with David’s sin concerning Bathsheba, for which he is punished personally, by the death of his son; however, since the transgression was personal and not governmental it had no public ramifications. This is in contrast to Saul’s seemingly minor transgression, which was done in the governmental domain, and was punished accordingly.
127. The continuation of Saul’s rule is entirely dominated by his desperate, and unsuccessful, attempts to retrieve the heavenly mandate. It is even possible that at a certain point he tries to find healing among other gods—the Bible does not expand on the subject but perhaps this is the source of the names of his later children, Eshba’al and Mephiba’al (names which contain reference to the god Ba’al) as opposed to the name of his older son Jonathan (“God has given”). Yet at the moment of his greatest distress he chooses, in one last desperate attempt, to connect with the deceased prophet of the God of Israel, through the sorceress at Ein Dor. I Samuel 28.
128. David continues to describe Saul as the “anointed of God.” I Samuel 24:6, 26:9, and II Samuel 1:14. Yet was not David himself the “anointed of God” in Saul’s place? The intention is apparently different; here Saul represents the government, the people—the Israelite state. See also I Samuel 1:12.
129. Mishna Avot 2:1.
130. Another small passage from The Book of the Righteous appears in Joshua 10:13. On other lost books mentioned in the Bible, see Robert Graves, Hebrew Myths (New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 11.
131. II Samuel 1:17-18.
132. II Samuel 1:19-27.
133. In Abraham Ibn Ezra, Kovetz Hochmat Hara’ava, vol. 1, poem 71.
134. Mishna Avot 2:1.
135. Tana D’bei Eliyahu Raba, chapter 14.
136. The “way of the world” very rarely appears in the Bible in its widest meaning, as a synonym for the natural order of the world. It refers for the most part to a man about to die in old age (Joshua 23:14; see also the similarity to the commentary of Tosafot on Baba Metzia 107b), and in one verse it refers to the violation of the natural order in intimate relations, when Lot’s daughters lie with him, since there is no one left to come to them “in the way of all the world.” Genesis 19:31. That is to say, the act of incest is described as opposing the way of the world. Cf. also an interesting phrasing which includes a slightly different take on the concept, in I Kings 8:48.
137. Mishna Avot 3:5.
138. See also Avot D’rabi Natan 28:1, which implicitly connects the wisdom of the “way of the world” with actual inhabitation of the land.
139. In the Mishna are sayings to the effect that one who lacks the “way of the world” is incomplete, even if his whole life is the study of Tora; for example: “Raban Gamliel the son of R. Yehuda Hanasi says, Tora study with the way of the world is beautiful, because the labor in both of them dispels sinfulness. And any study of Tora that does not have with it labor is destined to be nullified and drag with it sin.” Mishna Avot 2:2. In the talmudic period the same attitude was preserved in sayings such as “R. Huna said that all who deal in Tora alone are like one who has no god, for it is said, ‘and Israel passed many days without a true God….’ (II Chronicles 16:3) What is meant by ‘without a true God?’ That whoever occupies himself in Tora alone is like one who has no God and has not engaged in acts of kindness.” Avoda Zara 17b.
140. Mishna Avot 3:17. See also the continuation of R. El’azar’s pointed statements favoring the superiority of action over Tora study, particularly the view that one whose actions are greater than his wisdom is “compared to a tree whose branches are few and whose roots are many, that even if all the winds of the world should come and blow on it, they would not move it from its place.”
141. Ecclesiastes 4:12.
142. Kidushin 40b. Here it is clear that according to the Mishna, the study of the Bible is no less important than the study of Mishna, a view which today apparently has its opponents, if one can judge by their preferences and curricula.
143. These are part of what is known as the “Minor Tractates” (Masechtot K’tanot), whose redaction was substantially later than other collections of tannaitic material.
144. It is interesting to note the changes through the generations in the attitudes of Tora scholars to labor and to matters of the world. The strongest reservations concerning rabbinic studies without deeds, and emphasizing the necessity of an occupation, are from the earliest periods, the days of the Amoraim and Tannaim and even before. To the words quoted from Raban Gamliel and R. Huna in favor of the “way of the world” and labor can be added the dictum of Shemaya, who says: “Love work and despise rabbinics” (Mishna Avot 1:10), and R. Akiva’s admonition to his son: “Do not dwell in a city whose leaders are scholars.” Psahim 112a. On the subject of R. Akiva’s political understanding, see Urbach, “Between Rulers and Ruled”, p. 403.
Later generations still justified involvement with worldly affairs, yet in an apologetic tone. R. Ovadia of Bertinoro interprets Shemaya’s sharp remark on this subject as opposing one who disdains labor out of hubris, but not as an explicit criticism of rabbinical office unaccompanied by labor (R. Ovadia’s commentary on Mishna Avot 1:10), and the Tosfot Yom Tov attempts to moderate the words of the Tannaim on the Tora study’s dependence upon the “way of the world.” See the discussion of this topic in Tosfot Yom Tov on Mishna Avot 3:17.
In the medieval period, the rabbis still heeded the advice of Shemaya and Gamliel: Rashi owned a winery; R. Shmuel ben Meir (Rashbam) owned flocks and a winery; Shmuel Hanagid achieved the post of vizier of the Muslim state of Granada; Ya’akov ben Asher, the author of the Arba’a Turim, was a money-changer; R. Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag) invented and developed an instrument called a “staff of Jacob” for measuring the angles between two stars, which greatly benefited navigation; and Judah Halevi and Maimonides were both physicians. In later generations, however, the opinion spread among many adherents of Tora that to be one “whose Tora is his craft” was most fitting, and they denigrated the value of anything that was not Tora study.
What are the causes of this process of reversal regarding the “way of the world” and Tora study from the time of the Mishna until today? Certainly the extended disconnection from the land and the long stay in exile had a great influence, in that the purpose of action became more limited and no longer contributed to the general pattern of national life. In such circumstances the desire to disengage from one’s subjugation to foreign interests and goals is understandable, and perhaps even justified at times. Yet another influence may have been the model of religious priesthood as accepted in Christianity and Islam, in which the image of the scholar and man of God is of one who is somewhat detached from earthly matters; particularly in Christianity, this image also included representing a living ideal of complete detachment from the world of action, as among monks and academics. Whatever the source of this trend in Judaism, it is clear that the attitude it has created towards earthly matters is the opposite of the attitude of the Sages.
145. Derech Eretz Raba 5. See also further in Derech Eretz Raba 5, in Derech Eretz Raba 7 and in Kala 7.
146. Shabbat 114a. See also R. Menahem Meiri, Beit Habehira on Tamid 2a.
147. Kala 1. Also, Meiri, Beit Habehira on Moed Katan 22b.
148. Sota 44a. The “way of the world” in the sense of proper interpersonal relations can be found in Tosafot on Nedarim 91a.
149. See also Genesis Raba 86.
150. The commentary of R. Ovadia of Bertinoro on Mishna Avot 3:5. He even states this explicitly in his commentary on Avot 2:2: “The way of the world—profession or trade.”
151. Rashi on Brachot 32b.
152. Other uses are found as well in various fields, such as one’s relationship with the environment, as presented in the following midrashic statement: “God taught the way of the world to the generations, that if a man seeks to build his house from a fruit-bearing tree, tell him, ‘Just like the King of Kings who owns everything, when he commanded the building of a tabernacle, he said: Bring only from a tree that does not bear fruit—all the more so does this apply to you’” (Exodus Raba 35:2); considerations of respect and the preservation of esthetics, such as Rashi’s statement that “the Tora taught us the way of the world, that man should be protective of that which is beautiful” (Rashi on Exodus 26:13); and one’s relations with the governing authorities and the unique respect reserved for them, as in Rashi on Esther 4:2 and in Sanhedrin 82a.
153. Meiri, Beit Habehira on Mishna Avot 3:20.
154. Meiri, Beit Habehira on Nedarim 25a. In this context see Burke on the connection of courtesy and morals with proper government. Reflections, pp. 77-78. In this spirit one can understand the Sages’ traditional esteem for the stabilizing social and moral influences of the monotheistic religions which, despite being the subject of deep disputes over matters of faith, nonetheless transform the nations which abide by them into “nations of religion and courtesy.” See Meiri, Beit Habehira on Baba Kama 37b. Perhaps this will enable an understanding of rabbis such as Maimonides and Meiri having designated the monotheistic religions as “clearing a path for the messiah.” Funkenstein, Perceptions, p. 149.
155. Quoted in Oakeshott, Rationalism, p. 23.
156. Deuteronomy 32:15.
157. Deuteronomy 33:5


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