Support Torah.org

Subscribe to a Torah.org Weekly Series

Posted on April 1, 2001 (5761) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: | Level:

I will spare you my excuses, but in addition to the demands of the last week, I questioned whether to write this. In general, the Lifeline (like Torah.org in general) is intended as a spiritually uplifting Jewish resource, without controversy. Some may find this message controversial, and I hesitated.

What spurred me to action was the recollection that this week, our classes are dedicated to the memory of Alisa Flatow, hy”d. She was a young American student in Israel when she was murdered by a suicide bomber — who also took the lives of seven Israeli soldiers, all of whom were, like Alisa, under the age of 21 — in 1995, 10 Nissan 5755.

Since her death, her parents Stephen and Rosalyn Flatow have worked for two causes. One, they have promoted Torah, Judaism and Jewish learning, especially in Israel through the Alisa Flatow Memorial Fund. The fund provides scholarships on a need and scholarship basis to young men and women to study at yeshivos in Israel. And, second, they have not hesitated to point to those responsible. To the great discomfort of a U.S. government attempting better relations with Iran, the Flatows won a $274 million judgement against the Iranian government for harboring and funding the terrorists who took Alisa’s life. Not because they hoped to see even a fraction of that sum, or even payment of their legal expenses — but simply that the world should know that Iran remains a threat to civilized people and nations.

Now, you ask, how is all of this relevant to the parsha we just read? I request your indulgence.

Our reading begins with the declaration of Moshe’s humility, which was his greatest praise. Concerning Moshe, the Torah testifies that he was “more humble than any man on earth,” and we see this in the first word of our parsha. He is called upon to write “Vayikra el Moshe,” “[G-d] called to Moshe.” Moshe does so, but writes “Vayikra” with a small letter aleph, as if to imply that the word itself was “Vayikar” (without the final aleph), the word used when G-d “called” to the evil prophet Bilaam [Numbers 23:4]. The word “Vayikar,” Rashi explains, implies that it was coincidence, or even that it was degrading to associate with that person. Moshe was called with a language of love and endearment, similar to “[the Heavenly angels] called one to the other” in Isaiah 6:3. But Moshe did not want to write that G-d had called to him with that same language of closeness used by angels.

For this, Moshe was rewarded. The Kabbalah says that G-d took the extra ink that Moshe saved with his small aleph, and He used it to create the radiant beams of light which emerged from Moshe’s face. Because Moshe ran away from glory, glory chased after him.

Part and parcel of humility, of course, is admission of error. This, too, was characteristic of Moshe — that he admitted and repented for his mistakes. We see in our reading this week that all leaders of the Jewish nation were expected to make mistakes, admit them, and turn away from them. Our parsha deals with the sacrifices brought for those who transgressed G-d’s laws through lack of awareness or knowledge. If the High Priest sins, the Torah tells us, then he brings this; if a regular person sins, he does this; if the King sins, this is his sacrifice. Concerning the King, in fact, the Torah says “when the King shall err” — even the King is human; he will certainly err.

The parsha also talks about “the people” sinning. How is it possible for the entire nation to sin? Our Sages explain: the Sanhedrin, the High Court, ruled incorrectly, bringing the people to transgress. If the generations are declining in wisdom, and it takes a Court greater in wisdom to reverse the decision — then how did the Court ever reverse? The answer is, of course, that the very same Sanhedrin publicly declared that it had made a mistake.

This, then, is the hallmark of Jewish leadership — the willingness to admit error, to change course. Moshe was exceedingly humble and admitted his errors; Kings are expected to transgress; the Sanhedrin was expected to publicly announce its mistakes in judgement.

Now, this brings me to the controversial part. In 1993, Israel made a terrible mistake, which we mistakenly called a Peace Process. This process, as we all know, involved giving the PLO tens of thousands of automatic weapons as well as territory now under its Authority. This agreement came with the explicit precondition that Arafat swear off violence and that these weapons be used to maintain order and round up terrorists — not, of course, that these weapons themselves be used for acts of terrorism.

Today, the fact that the PA violated all of these promises is known to all. Even U.S. President Bush now places the blame for the current round of violence at the PA’s doorstep, where it belongs. “The signal to the Palestinians is stop the violence,” he said. “I can’t make it any more clear.” The Assistant Secretary of State for Near East Affairs, Edward Walker, told a congressional committee that this Intifada was clearly pre-meditated, and that Arafat is both fully in control and is encouraging violence rather than acting to reduce it.

In Israel itself, the common word is that today, “there is no left.” No one believes Arafat. Amnon Denker, a leading columnist with HaAretz, the paper of record for Israel’s “intellectual left,” has apologized for the headlong rush to “peace” and the demonization of Israel’s right wing that accompanied it.

It is not true. The Meretz party remains adamant. And in America, where Meretz-style thinking has always been vastly more popular than it is in Israel, groups like Americans for Peace Now and the Shalom Center continue to assert, despite all evidence to the contrary, that further concessions to Arafat will return him to peacemaking and cause him to truly renounce violence. The New Israel Fund bestows millions upon organizations which condemn Israeli “apartheid,” petition for the release of terrorists, and continue to support the Palestinian “right of return” which would quickly eliminate Israel as a Jewish state.

These activists continue to blame Israel, not to mention now-Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, for the current warfare, and refer to “Israeli-Palestinian violence” as if this were somehow more apt than “Jewish-Cossack violence” would have been as a description of Russian pogroms. They condemn Israel for blockading Arab towns, as if any nation should be expected to maintain open borders with hostile territory. They condemn Israel for destroying the trees which sheltered terrorist gunmen. They condemn Israel for “extra-judicial killing” of Force 17 terrorists — in short, there is not a single tactic for striking back at terrorism which they fail to condemn. In their view, the “Jewish” approach would be to approach Arab gunmen and invite them to take over Jerusalem.

Why, after avoiding talking about this in the Lifeline for as long as it has existed, should I write about this now? Because, quite simply, it is too dangerous today to be silent. No one can blame anyone for seeking peace. It is a commendable goal. It is an expression of longing for the highest ideals of the Jewish soul. But it is certainly foolish not to acknowledge reality when the man holding the Nobel Peace Prize is sending his snipers out to murder babies in Hebron. It is those people who most ardently favored the “peace process” who should most furiously denounce Arafat today for violating his every word. Those who invite Arafat to speak, who continue to talk about the Israeli “causes” for this six-month battle, are inviting its continuation. They send the message that Arafat’s methods are acceptable.

In 1995, Alisa’s boyfriend, Alan Mitrani, wrote: “How many more casualties of peace must there be before things change? How many Alisa Flatows must be murdered before we realize that a real peace should not, must not, and would not have such a high price tag?” If he said that in 1995, what does the cold-blooded murder of Shalhevet Pass in Hebron tell us in 2001? At what point will these “Jewish leaders” do what honesty and Judaism demands: admit error?

This is unacceptable. Giving the PA machine guns was, in effect, handing them murder weapons. We know that now. But until now, those who favored this course could legitimately argue that they were attempting to make peace and save lives. Today, on the other hand, this can no longer be said. To continue to talk about Arafat as a dignitary, to say his “frustration” justifies his action, to recommend that Israel make new concessions, is to knowingly accede to his violent terrorism. To put it bluntly, to “dialogue” with Arafat now is to invite him to murder more Israeli innocents.

That, unlike what came before, is a deliberate crime. And for deliberate transgressions, says our Torah reading, no amount of sacrifices will atone.