Chinese evil and Maimonidean demons

Can humans ever sink to such depths of depravity that they effectively lose their humanity? Or worse?

Last week’s UN report published last week once again directed world attention to the mass incarceration and horrific abuses being carried out in the Xinjiang region of Northwest China. The indescribable horrors which are being inflicted on an entire population as well as the highly advanced technology that makes this oppression possible prompted me to recall a passage that I wrote in Judaism Reclaimed.

The Torah describes Adam’s son Shet as being in the image of Adam — a term which Rambam (Moreh 1:7) links to the earlier description of Adam as having been created "betzelem Elokim" (in the image of God). Rambam then cites a Gemara which states that, from the moment of his sin until the birth of Shet, Adam bore offspring which were not in his image but rather were "ruchot" or demons.

Tzelem Elokim — the element of humanity that can be said to be Godly — is identified with the intellect. It is through this uniquely human intelligence that people can make moral judgments to distinguish right from wrong, subdue their negative impulses and thereby direct their sophisticated intellectual capabilities so as to benefit the world around them.

In Rambam’s understanding, those who ignore their human calling to use their intellect to refine and control the animalistic aspects of their personality are considered behema betzurat adam (an animal in human form) rather than betzelem Elokim. Membership of this unesteemed group therefore can cause people to forfeit their human privileges such as divine providence and a share in the World to Come.

Far worse than this, however, are those who take this divine gift to humanity of a powerful intellect and use it to subdue and oppress others. As history repeatedly demonstrates, the greatest misery and hardship experienced by mankind is caused by people who have used their intellect to devise ways of furthering human suffering. These are the sorts of “demons” that, in Rambam’s understanding of the Gemara, were said to have been sired by Adam prior to Shet. It can be presumed that Rambam would offer a similar interpretation of Talmudic accounts of demons who dwell in uninhabited areas, damage unguarded buildings, and attack those who travel unaccompanied at night.

Tragically, the powerful Chinese government embodies this latter category of people, using their human intelligence to devise ever more effective methods for spying on their citizens and then seeking to control not only their behaviour but even their thoughts. Instead of utilising the gift of a divinely-granted intellect to improve the world by refining and elevating humanity – instead of channelling their science to the cause of alleviating hunger and disease – the atheist state implements a hideous mass-experiment in “re-education” to manipulate and subdue the tzelem Elokim of its religious citizens.

At the other end of the scale, world governments using their tzelem Elokim to build and improve the state of humanity is considered a key requirement for the onset of the Messianic era. Rambam writes later in the Moreh Nevuchim (3:11):

For through awareness of the truth, enmity and hatred are removed and the inflicting of harm by people on one another is abolished. It [Tanach] holds out this promise, saying “And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb…”. Then it gives the reason for this, saying that the cause of the abolition of these enmities, these discords and these tyrannies, will be humanity’s knowledge of God…

The primary and perhaps exclusive causes of warfare and misery are obsession with and competition over material possessions, power and pride. Once humanity is taught or becomes aware of this folly, its energies and capabilities will be channelled towards achieving universal happiness and spiritual fulfilment, thus “they will beat their swords into ploughshares…” and “your sons and daughters will prophesy”.

First posted to Facebook 4 September 2022, here.

What if man was one of us? The most perplexing verse in the Torah

Parashat Bereishit contains one of the most perplexing verses in the entire Torah, the difficulty of which is compounded by the fact that two of our earliest sources read it in entirely different ways.

In the aftermath of Adam and Eve’s sin in Gan Eden, God declares:

הֵ֤ן הָֽאָדָם֙ הָיָה֙ כְּאַחַ֣ד מִמֶּ֔נּוּ לָדַ֖עַת ט֣וֹב וָרָ֑ע וְעַתָּ֣ה | פֶּן־יִשְׁלַ֣ח יָד֗וֹ וְלָקַח֙ גַּ֚ם מֵעֵ֣ץ הַֽחַיִּ֔ים וְאָכַ֖ל וָחַ֥י לְעֹלָֽם

"Behold man has become like one of us, having the ability of knowing good and evil, and now, lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever".

Or does He?

The above translation is favoured by Rashi and Ibn Ezra, and is consistent with the cantillation which is traditionally accorded to Ezra. Remarkably, however, Targum Onkelos – an Aramaic translation of the Torah from the Tannaitic era which the Talmud understands to trace back to Sinai – reads these words very differently:

הָא אָדָם הֲוָה יְחִידַי בְּעַלְמָא מִנֵּהּ לְמִידַע טַב וּבִישׁ

“Behold man has become unique in the world, by himself can know good and evil…”

Onkelos’s rendering of this verse is consistent with Rambam’s understanding of his agenda – not simply translating the Torah but also carefully ensuring that it cannot be mistakenly interpreted in a manner that he deems heretical. Rather than reading the verse as God describing Himself as a plurality which might include humanity, a meaning that introduces all sorts of theological complications, Onkelos places the sentence’s pause on the word “ke’achad”. Humanity is therefore described as unique among creatures in its ability to determine right and wrong.

Unsurprisingly, Onkelos’s reading of this verse is adopted by Rambam in Hilchot Teshuva (5:1), and cited as part of his discussion regarding human free will:

“Free will is granted to all men. If one desires to turn himself to the path of good and be righteous, the choice is his. Should he desire to turn to the path of evil and be wicked, the choice is his.

This is [the intent of] the Torah's statement: " Behold man has become unique in the world, by himself can know good and evil," i.e., the human species became singular in the world with no other species resembling it in the following quality: that man can, on his own initiative, with his knowledge and thought, know good and evil, and do what he desires. There is no one who can prevent him from doing good or bad. Accordingly, [there was a need to drive him from the Garden of Eden,] "lest he stretch out his hand [and take from the tree of life]."

Yet even once this verse is interpreted within the context of free will, its purpose and intent remain very unclear. Rambam proceeds to argue that free will is a fundamental pillar upon which the Torah relies. If people were compelled to act a certain way, he explains, there would be no place for God revealing a set of rules which would be the basis for reward and punishment.

But surely all that is required to justify commands, reward and punishment is that people are not compelled and can freely to choose whether to follow God’s word? Is it really necessary to bring in this verse to imply that humans also possess their autonomous moral compass to evaluate right and wrong? Would Rambam not expect a person to obey God’s law even in a situation in which he or she does not understand them to be morally correct?

One discussion that this verse might shed light on is the status of those who have not been exposed to the Torah or even the seven Noachide laws which are sometimes suggested to represent a basic universal moral code. There is no explicit mention of God revealing any set of laws to humanity prior to the Sinai revelation. Nevertheless, it is apparent that God expects certain minimal standards of moral conduct and punishes those such as the generation of the flood and citizens of Sodom for their corruption, cruelty and immorality. Indeed, Rambam in Hilchot Melachim (8:10) seems to consider Noachide laws to be binding upon all non-Jews. Perhaps the justification for this arises from Onkelos and Rambam’s interpretation of this verse to imply that humanity possesses its own moral compass and is therefore responsible for its own actions even without any form of divine command?

Many further perplexing questions remain. How, for example, do Onkelos and Rambam explain the cryptic continuation of the verse – that humanity’s newfound moral compass poses a danger “lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever”? And is this interpretation to be reconciled with Rambam’s interpretation of the Eden episode found in an early chapter of Moreh Nevuchim, in which “tov vera” represent the negative result of Adam and Eve’s sin – the corruption of their previous praised ability to perceive absolute truths (emet vasheker)?

One possible explanation is that, according to Rambam, humanity’s moral compass in its post-sin state could now also go very badly wrong due to it having internalised harmful imaginative and emotive elements. It is noteworthy that Rambam also follows Onkelos in rendering the Serpent’s promise to Eve as being that:

“on the day that you eat thereof, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like political leaders (ravravei), knowing tov vera."

In this new post-sin scenario, in which the human mind could concoct and persuade itself of the merits of destructive political philosophies such as communism or fascism, a safety valve of mortality had to be placed within its societies. No dictator could be allowed to enslave a society perpetually. God was now therefore concerned “lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever”.

First posted on Facebook 19 October 2022, here.

Humans, demons and the depths of depravity

The indescribably brutal terrorist atrocities inflicted on Israeli communities a week ago are the sort of unfathomable events which leave many of us lost for words, despairing of humanity and the depths to which it is capable of plummeting.

Can people ever sink to such depths of depravity that they effectively lose their humanity? Or worse?

Such questions prompted me to recall a passage that I wrote in Judaism Reclaimed.

In yesterday’s parashah, the Torah describes Adam’s son Shet as being in the image of Adam — a term which Rambam (Moreh 1:7) links to the earlier description of Adam as having been created "betzelem Elokim" (in the image of God). Rambam then cites a Gemara which states that, from the moment of his sin until the birth of Shet, Adam bore offspring which were not in his image but rather were "ruchot" or demons.

Tzelem Elokim — the element of humanity that can be said to be Godly — is identified with the intellect. It is through this uniquely human intelligence that people can make moral judgments to distinguish right from wrong, subdue their negative impulses and thereby direct their sophisticated intellectual capabilities so as to benefit the world around them.

In Rambam’s understanding, those who fail in their human calling to use their intellect to refine and control the animalistic aspects of their personality are considered behema betzurat adam (an animal in human form) rather than betzelem Elokim. Membership of this unesteemed group therefore can cause people to forfeit their human privileges such as divine providence and a share in the World to Come.

Far worse than this, however, are those who take this divine gift to humanity of a powerful intellect and use it to subdue and terrorise others. As history repeatedly demonstrates, the greatest misery and hardship experienced by mankind is caused by people who have used their intellect to devise ways of furthering human suffering. These are the sorts of “demons” that, in Rambam’s understanding of the Gemara, were said to have been sired by Adam prior to Shet. It can be presumed that Rambam would offer a similar interpretation of Talmudic accounts of demons who dwell in uninhabited areas, damage unguarded buildings, and attack those who travel unaccompanied at night.

Humans who have fallen to such depths might be viewed as even worse than animals who typically only catch and kill prey out of necessity.

Notwithstanding all this, Rabbi Yisrael Lau – Holocaust survivor and former Chief Rabbi of Israel – warns strongly against the inclination to regard these evil and brutal acts as the work of some kind of “inhuman monsters from another world. In his Out Of The Depths memoir, Rabbi Lau records his own passionate response to one of the witnesses from the Eichmann trial:

“If Auschwitz were indeed another planet, it would be easier to accept the Holocaust. But in truth, the disaster of Auschwitz is that it happened on the very same planet where we had lived before, where we live now, and where we will continue to live. Those who carried out the cruel murders of the innocent where ordinary people, who returned home from their murderous acts to water the flowers in their manicured gardens. They tended the flowers lovingly and carefully so they would blossom, just after they had torn infants to pieces and shattered the skulls of men and women.

Just after shoving thousands of people into the gas chambers to their deaths, they came home to play with dolls together with their little girls, and listen to classical music, eyes closed, engrossed in the uplifting spirituality of Bach and Beethoven…Those were people just like you and me, and that’s the whole problem. When you transfer all those horrors to another planet, you minimise the issue. You are saying that something like the Holocaust can never happen to us again. In my humble opinion, you are wrong…”

In responding to such an outrage – as we must – with full force, we must retain a clear and unrelenting distinction between our use of military power and that of our enemies. Despite the best efforts of foreign media and anti-Semitic critics abroad to blur the boundaries.

On the one hand we have those who idealise the power of the sword and turn it into a national ideology. Describing the traits that typify Amalek, Rabbi S. R. Hirsch writes that it bore a spirit which:

“chooses the sword as its lot, seeks renown in laurels of blood, and strives to realise the ambition of “Let us make for ourselves a name” with which Nimrod began world history. This ambition is realised by destroying the welfare of nations and the happiness of men.

This seeking renown by the force of arms is the first and last enemy of human happiness and Divine Kingship on earth…Amalek’s glory-seeking sword knows no rest as long as one free man’s heart keeps beating and pays no homage to it; as long as one modest abode and happy home remains standing whose residents do not tremble before its might.”

We must remember that our messianic utopia is not a bloodletting of our enemies – it is being privileged to live in a world peace – among nations – in such security that weapons will no longer be necessitated. While we must be uncompromising in responding to such attacks in order to wipe out the evil in our midst, we long for an era in which our swords can be beaten into ploughshares…

The Jewish use of military power, on the other hand is that of a necessary evil. A war to root out evil or defend ourselves against enemies is a great mitzva. But we truly years for a time when the world embraces the truths and teachings of God so that “no nation will lift up sword against nation” and allowing us therefore to beat our swords into plowshares, and our spears into pruning hook.

Until then we continue to pray for the protection of our soldiers in battle, the full healing of our wounded and the return of our captured brethren.

First posted on Facebook 15 October 2023, here.