Tuesday 2 July 2024

The Torah's perspective on rape and sexual abuse

For almost a week now, my Facebook feed has been awash with angry posts. Initial reports of rape and abuse perpetrated by prominent children’s author, Chaim Walder, drew understandable outrage. Particularly jarring in recent days though has been the response to his suicide which saw him being feted and praised by leading rabbis and communal figures. In place of clear moral leadership, condemnation and efforts to support victims of abuse, they inexplicably sought to place blame on those who had investigated and publicised his crimes. More on this at the end of the post.

In the lengthy threads I scrolled through on the topic, one claim which surfaced several times is that the Torah does not condemn or provide clear punitive measures for rapists and abusers – and that this might have contributed to the less serious response to Walder’s crimes in some rabbinic circles.
Judaism Reclaimed addresses the Torah’s attitude to rape in the broader context of whether Jewish criminal law could ever provide a practical basis for a country’s criminal law system. Even when it comes to murder, a crime for which the Torah applies a clear capital punishment, the oral tradition places so many barriers to a Sanhedrin’s guilty verdict (such as the murderer needing to receive and verbally accept a warning from witnesses) that it would have been an extremely rare occurrence. Custodial sentences are absent from Torah law. So how would the Torah itself intend for a society to function based on its own criminal law?
The answer is found in the Derashot of the Ran, where the distinct prerogatives of the Sanhedrin and the king (or government) are outlined. The role of the king is like that of a government of any country: to provide a system of justice which maintains law and order. Drawing upon Talmudic passages in Sanhedrin, Rambam teaches that the king is not bound by the Torah's strict evidential and procedural constraints; this allows him to deal with offenders whose activities lie beyond the Sanhedrin's reach. The Sanhedrin, by contrast, is concerned solely with imparting what the Ran terms 'mishpat tzedek amiti' – specific divine attitudes and lessons. For example, divine justice demands that, in order for a death penalty to be declared, there must be absolute certainty that the accused carried out the offence, and did so intentionally (hence the need to deliver a formal warning). However the practicalities of keeping law and order in society require the Sanhedrin’s system to coexist with an effective governing system.
Thus the Torah’s criminal law was never intended to operate as the sole basis for running a country. Biblical passages describe kings such as David And Solomon dispensing practical “governmental” justice, in a system which includes jail sentences to keep dangerous convicts (and pesky prophets!) off the streets.
It is against this backdrop that Judaism Reclaimed examines the Torah’s approach to rape. Aside for a fine which is payable in very specific cases, the rapist – like the perpetrator of any violent crime – must fully compensate his victim for any pain, humiliation and other losses suffered. Quite apart from these basic compensatory measures, however, which are the remit of the Sanhedrin, we must also consider the important issue of maintaining law and order by preventing dangerous and violent individuals from threatening society.
What sort of attitude and reaction to sexual violence do we find being taken by governmental bodies in the Torah?
The rape of Dinah by Chamor led to a death penalty being imposed not merely on the perpetrator but also on all apparent accessories (“shall our sister be made like a harlot?”). A further example is that of Amnon’s rape of Tamar, a crime which was avenged through Absalom’s killing of Amnon leading to a fall-out which eventually spiralled into national rebellion.
Perhaps the most powerful biblical passage when examining current events, however, is the tragic incident of pilegesh b’Give’ah — the gang-rape of a concubine— towards the end of the book of Shofetim. For readers of one of Tanakh’s most harrowing passages, the reaction of the religious and political leaders of the day offers at least a crumb of comfort: the nation unites to demand that the perpetrators be brought to justice “for they committed lewdness and disgrace in Israel”. When the men are not handed over, the other tribes rally behind Pinchas – the leading sage of the generation – to declare war on the entire tribe of Binyamin which is sheltering the abusers.
For readers of the harrowing media accounts of Walder’s crimes last week, however, no such comfort and moral clarity was provided by our rabbinic leadership. Pinchas declared war against the tribal leaders of Binyamin for refusing to hand over those who sexually abused a concubine – a woman who, it can be presumed, came from the lower strata of ancient Israelite society. Our rabbinic leaders, by contrast, have attempted to close ranks behind the reputation of a powerful abuser and declare war, instead, on his vulnerable victims.
One of the clearest and most consistent messages we are taught by our prophets is the religious and moral duty to stand up for the weakest members of our communities. Not to allow the “strangers, widows and orphans” to be abused and downtrodden by society’s most powerful members.
At a time when those who claim to speak in the name of the Torah are doing the very opposite of this, protecting the forces of evil by attempting to squash and silence their innocent victims, we are all required to speak up and protest this dangerous desecration of God’s name and give voice to those who are being greatly harmed by it.
First posted on Facebook 2 January 2022, here.

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