In this week’s Torah portion, Re’eh, we read about the ir nidahat (the city led astray), an entire city that shows disloyalty to God and is condemned to total annihilation. All the city’s residents are to be put to the sword, along with their cattle. Their property and any possessions found therein must be burned. Finally, the ruins of the town must be left desolate, never to be rebuilt – as an eternal message of what happens to those who are disloyal to God.
One of the questions that intrigues commentators from the rabbinic midrash onward is whether minors are also to be put to death. It leads to a debate among Tannaitic sages such as Rabbi Eliezer, who says that they are slain, and Rabbi Akiva, who says that they are spared. Nonetheless, Rabbi Eliezer adds an important caveat to his more expansive interpretation: “Even adults are not executed unless there are witnesses and forewarning.” Furthermore, if there is even one mezuzah affixed to one doorpost in only one house, the city cannot be condemned.
Maimonides, in Chapter 4 of his Mishneh Torah, “Laws of Idolatry,” describes the process by which the Sanhedrin investigate the alleged ir nidahat, among whom are two Torah sages who warn the inhabitants and urge them to repent. If they repent, the trial is to be suspended. If they do not, every human who is in the city is killed by the sword, including children and women.
The Spanish sage Rabbi Meir Ha-Levi Abulafia questions the above ruling:
“I am surprised by what he writes: ‘All the children and wives... are killed by the sword.’ On what basis are these women and children killed? If they worshiped idols, then they themselves are among the people of this condemned city; if they did not worship idols, why are they killed?... Since when is a minor held responsible and condemned?...”
Modern scholar Rabbi Elchanan Sammet suggests that behind this debate lie two fundamentally different approaches to the law of the condemned city.
Those who maintain that the minors of the city are not to be killed appear to regard the verdict given to this city as a regular legal act, in which case innocent people cannot be killed. In contrast, the second school of thought suggests that the law of the condemned city is a suspension of the normal rules of justice.
Rabbi David Zvi Hoffmann, in his commentary, brings the startling comparison to Sodom and Gomorrah: “There is no reason to question why the minors are put to death. The nation of Israel, in this instance, is representing the Holy One. The city that is condemned to destruction is like Sodom and Amorah... Like the example of the great flood and the overturning of Sodom and Amorah where everyone was destroyed, even the minors, so likewise, concerning the condemned city.”
Rabbi Sammet makes an even more surprising connection, comparing the condemned city to Amalek, based on the commentary of [Obadiah ben Jacob] Sforno: “‘And its animals by the sword’ – to erase their memory, thereby avenging the blessed God – as is the case concerning Amalek, as we learn (25:19), ‘You shall wipe out the memory of Amalek.’”
When religion requires a war of annihilation
A war of annihilation was always waged for religious reasons, and in a war of complete annihilation the enemy was killed entirely; no captives were taken, and spoils were to be destroyed. Invoking both Sodom and Gomorrah, and Amalek, suggests such systematic evil that it essentially works to justify the annihilation of men, women, and children in the name of God – to eradicate such immorality from the Earth. The moral complexity, of course, is the agency given to the nation to decide when such a violent process is warranted.
The one example we have in the Book of Judges illustrates how easily the nation can be swept up unjustifiably onto the path toward ruthless carnage of fellow Israelites. Judges 19-21 tells of the war between the tribe of Benjamin and the rest of Israel.
It begins when a woman, the concubine of a Levite man traveling from Judah to his home in Ephraim, is gang-raped to death while staying overnight in the Benjaminite city of Gibeah. In response, the Levite cuts his concubine into 10 pieces, sending one body part to each of the 10 tribes and inciting them to retaliate against Gibeah – which leads to a war against the entire tribe of Benjamin.
The destruction of Gibeah and other cities in Benjamin includes the destruction of the booty, leading Prof. Aharon Demsky to suggest, based on strong linguistic connections between the two texts, that some version of the ir nidahat law lies behind the destruction in the Gibeah story.
One glaring difference between the two stories is the nature of the sin. Deuteronomy is expressly concerned with idolatry, whereas the Judges story is seemingly concerned with sexual violence that spirals into improperly motivated political conflict.
Recognizing the potential for insidious motives in condemning a city to utter annihilation, the Talmud in Sanhedrin 71a concludes: “There never was, nor will there ever be, a condemned city. So why is [this parsha] written? To interpret it and receive a reward [for studying it].” The Talmud projects a rabbinic ethos onto the passage, claiming that such a reality could never have existed.
LATER COMMENTATORS relate to the psychological damage that may be experienced by those who execute cruel punishment even with the explicit permission of the Torah. Rabbi Hayyim ibn Attar (aka Ohr HaHayim), the 18th-century author of Ohr HaHayim, writes: “The meaning of this passage is as follows: Inasmuch as He commanded that, in the ir nidahat, they put the entire city to death, including the livestock, such action can produce a cruel nature in man’s heart – as the Ishmaelites tell us of a band of murderers subservient to the king, who murder with great passion – and compassion is uprooted from them, and they become cruel.
“This characteristic of cruelty can be rooted in those who annihilate the ir hanidachat. Therefore, they are promised that God will give them compassion; even though they will have developed a cruel nature, the fountain of mercy will shower them anew with the power of compassion to nullify the force of cruelty engendered by their actions... Whenever a person possesses a cruel nature, so will God relate to him, for God has compassion only for the compassionate.”
Ohr HaHayim warns that cruel behavior can transform any person into a brutal person; God sees whether there is compassion or cruelty at the heart of those who carry out His Torah and will reward them accordingly.
Similarly, Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin (the Netziv of Volozhin) elaborates upon evil that may impact the individual and society as a result of imposing the prescribed sentence upon the inhabitants of the ir nidahat. First, the individuals who carry out the killing would be in danger of becoming cruel. Second, it would be unlikely that those carrying out the mission would not have family or friends in the city – which would lead to increased hatred within the nation.
Both commentaries temper their concern by noting that God promises the characteristic of compassion to those who carry out the mitzvah with sincere motives. However, both are also aware of the potential for improper motivation and the impact on their immediate environment, spreading to the nation.
The ethical message emerging from many of these commentaries suggests that while there are times that it is necessary to shed blood, even when it is done with the permission of the Torah, it is likely to leave a negative imprint on the soul.
The only cure depends on God infusing us with the quality of mercy in the aftermath of bloodshed, while we take careful steps to ensure that our motives remain properly focused toward heaven. ■The writer teaches contemporary Halacha at the Matan Advanced Talmud Institute. She also teaches Talmud at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies, along with courses on sexuality and sanctity in Jewish tradition.