Escaping the Luxury of Powerlessness: A cautionary tale

This week’s Thought to Ponder is dedicated by Jerry Wolf, in memory of his favorite uncle, Anschel Wolf, z”l.

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From the Cardozo Academy Writers Guild

In a recent article for Israel Hayom, Yoav Limor described Israel as standing at a crossroads, facing seven weighty decisions, all of which have dramatic repercussions. Limor lists the issues:

• the hostages and the chances of clinching another release deal;
• a potential military operation in Rafah;
• the humanitarian situation within Gaza and how to prevent a disaster;
• Gaza’s future, and finding an agent to deal with the population’s needs if responsibility is not to fall on Israel;
• a potential military campaign against Hezbollah and how to facilitate the return of the residents to the northern border area;
• maintaining calm during Ramadan, especially on the Temple Mount;
• and finally, a political decision about the military draft bill. Even if the High Court of Justice gives the government more time to find a resolution, Israel’s increased security needs require a deep change in “sharing the burden”. Things cannot return to how they were before.

A curiously relevant Talmudic midrash

The first Chapter of the Megillah (1:13-15) describes a seemingly innocuous scene as the King seeks advice regarding Vashti:

The Rabbis of the Babylonian Talmud—lacking any real political power—take the opportunity to imagine themselves within the story, inserting a conversation between verse 13, when the king asks the wise men for advice, and verse 14 when we learn about Carshena and his colleagues.

When the Rabbis intimate that they are not unable to answer because they have been in exile since the temple was destroyed, they are not strictly wrong. The first thing the Israelites are commanded to do when they enter the land is to build cities of refuge for those who have committed manslaughter. Yet in exile they are no longer masters of space. As Abraham Joshua Heschel writes: “new in the teaching of Judaism was that the idea of holiness was gradually shifted from space to time, from the realm of nature to the realm of history, from things to events.” [1]

There does indeed seem to be a connection between sovereignty in the land and being able to judge capital cases.

But it is also clear that the Rabbis are trying to get out of a tight spot. Whatever they choose—to spare Vashti or have her killed—will have negative consequences. They thus prefer to try and pass the buck to Ammon and Moav, two neighboring peoples.

The attraction of statelessness

Indeed, there is a certain comfort—a particular purity—in powerlessness. In his essay, “On the Return to Jewish National Life”, Eliezer Berkovits writes of how exile (which he does not see as ideal) “freed us from the guilt of national existence in a world in which national existence meant guilt.” The Talmudic Rabbis embrace this guiltlessness. But the flipside is that in doing so, they lose their ability to influence.

What makes this Talmudic story particularly curious is that there isn’t really any need for the story. The Megillah’s story of how Ahasuerus requested advice from “the sages that know the times” is not unclear. It’s not “fraught with background” as Eric Auerbach might say, demanding interpretation.

Yet the Sages take the opportunity to insert themselves into the story, to become the right-hand men of the most powerful ruler in the world, only to then flee from the responsibility that comes with power. The story reflects a deep ambivalence about power—a desire for it but also a fear of wielding it.

The crucible of sovereignty

Unlike the Talmudic Rabbis, our leaders today do not have the “luxury” of making excuses. No longer can we pass the buck to Ammon and Moav. We aren’t in Kansas anymore, nor even in Babylon! We have to make decisions.

We also need to internalize that, as the story teaches, whatever decision we make (regarding the war, the hostages, humanitarian aid, Hezbollah, the IDF draft etc.), will inherently include some form of loss. That is the essential nature of decisions.

As the war continues and Purim approaches, we should try to be grateful—despite the pain, complexity, and sometimes natural wish to pontificate and delay—that we are forced to make these complex decisions. After all, they represent the essence of the sovereignty that we strove so hard to attain and continue battling to maintain.

Notes:

[1] Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath, Farrar Straus Giroux, 2005.