Parshas Noach 5784
If you were in shul this past Shabbos afternoon, or the Monday or Thursday morning thereafter, or have simply been reviewing this week’s parsha and gotten as far as the first the first three pesukim, you likely had the wind briefly knocked out of you:
וַתִּשָּׁחֵת הָאָרֶץ לִפְנֵי הָאֱלֹקים וַתִּמָּלֵא הָאָרֶץ חָמָס׃
(בראשית ו:יא)
And the earth became corrupt before G-d. And the earth was filled with Hamas (lawlessness).
(Bereishis 6:11)
If you missed the pasuk in any formal study of the Parsha, social media likely complied in bringing it to your attention. The Torah refers to lawlessness (or violence, or perhaps thievery) with the Hebrew word, Hamas. Not only is there the recognition that the earth had become filled with Hamas, but just two pesukim later, Hashem tells Noach that as a result, it must be destroyed.
It is chilling reading these words as the Jewish People find themselves ramping up for war with a group of the same name.
In this pasuk, G-d speaks in very broad and general terms. The entire earth was infected with Hamas. Every human being other than Noach and his family were beset by this unusual strain of depravity. G-d can make this sort of statement. Because He’s G-d. We need to remember that we’re not.
What existed in the time of the Flood is unique in world history. The notion that every human being on earth sunk to a state of abject moral destitution is not something we’ve known since that horribly wayward generation. Ten generations later, Hashem sets His sights on Sodom, Amorah, and the outlying areas. These cities also suffered from moral bankruptcy and the populations therein needed to be wiped out.
But such broad, sweeping characterizations of huge throngs of people is a job that needs to be left to Hashem. Sometimes evil becomes so pronounced in action that it can be easily identified. We can readily make that sort of assessment about Hamas, now more than ever. What troubles me are the assumptions some are willing to make about all those standing in the background, the “extras” in the drama in which Hamas terrorists play the leading role. What we know is that terrorists who commit atrocities against innocent people are evil. What we don’t know is that the two million people they rule over are equally so. Broad characterizations of that nature are for G-d to make, not man.
Why do we go this route? Because it’s easier to go to war against an enemy that is purely evil than one that is partly evil. It calms the nerves to believe that every casualty of this war is no less guilty than the terrorists who infiltrated Israel and carried out inhumane atrocities against our people. I feel more justified in calling for a war in which many people will be killed if every one of those people is actually a monster in hiding.
But do we know that that’s the case? Do we have any proof that the average civilian in Gaza is as contemptible as bona fide terrorists?
Israel must go to war. The blessing of military might that Hashem has endowed Israel with is the ability to uproot enemies that pose a threat to the Jewish People. The cold, hard reality of war is that achieving that goal means collateral damage. It means people who should not be blamed for the war will nevertheless perish in it.
What, then, is the great difference? If war is inevitable, if it must occur, if it is the only means to the desperately needed end of safety and security for the Jewish People, who cares how we choose to characterize our enemies in that war? I think there are at least three differences.
Firstly, it means restraint. I don’t mean the sort of restraint that is sometimes imposed on Israel by other countries, by the media, or by popular opinion that hampers its ability to adequately protect itself and see evil fully uprooted before demands are made that it pull back. But the sort of restraint that is the hallmark of humanity, of not giving oneself carte blanche to attack anything and everything in sight because “they’re all evil anyway.” The sort of restraint that considers the snuffing out of a human life to be something of such magnitude that it can’t be spoken of in a cavalier manner and acts in way that attempts to limit the carnage of war while still fulfilling the stated objectives of war.
Secondly, the difference is one of honesty and truth. In a Beis Medrash, one doesn’t tolerate claims and assertions not based on fact. When we begin to paint millions of people in broad strokes, based on emotional stirrings and leanings, we’re violating a basic middah that Hashem demands of us. What is infuriating about the way the media reported the hospital explosion in Gaza is that it parroted information that various outlets wanted to be true, but had no proof that it actually was. That is an abhorrent way of operating, one that we must be above. What proof can be offered about the thoughts and feelings of two million people living in Gaza? If we have none, we can’t jump to conclusions.
Finally, giving ourselves license to make assumptions about the character of others has a cascading effect. “Everyone in Gaza is evil,” lies on the same continuum of “Everyone hates us,” and “Every non-Jew is an anti-semite.” It’s untrue and it’s unfair. So many people far beyond our own ranks have stood up and spoken up for Israel and the Jewish Nation these past two weeks. They have denounced terrorism, barbarism, and anti-Semitism, without the need to contextualize the beheading of babies against the backdrop of Israeli colonialism. There are many good and decent people in this world, and they’re not all Jews. They deserve our adopting a mentality that isn’t quick to paint people as evil out of convenience.
The Torah describes that in unleashing the Flood upon the earth, Hashem tore open all the springs of the “תהום רבה—the great deep” (7:11). Rashi notes that this punishment was measure for measure, for the people of the earth had sinned in a manner of “רבת רעת האדם—greatly evil was man’s wickedness” (6:5). The key term, the one the comparison is based upon, is “רבה” or “great”. The people sinned excessively, and Hashem punished them with excessive water.
Water can be the greatest possible blessing to mankind. In proper measure, rivers swell and produce fertile farmland, streams carry freshwater inland to make it possible to cultivate more fo the earth. But in overabundance, water is disastrous. Indeed, it can drown the whole earth. From the punishment, we can infer the crime. This was a generation of excess, that went all in on their desires, interests, passions and acted without restraint. Hashem showed them that even that which is a blessing in proper measure, becomes catastrophic when not reigned in.
We need to exercise judgment when called for. We cannot be afraid to identify evil, decry evil, and even wipe it off the map. But we also need to exercise caution in applying that label too broadly. War is oftentimes the only means a nation has at its disposable to protect itself. It may be necessary, but it’s not pretty. Let’s not make ourselves feel better about it by being less than honest.