King Henry VIII was married to Catherine of Aragon but wished he were married to Anne Bolyn. King Henry, at the time, was Catholic and there was no way to arrange a divorce. Instead, Henry argued that his marriage to Catherine was never legitimate since she was the widow of Henry’s dead brother Arthur and the Book of Leviticus prohibits a man from marrying his brother’s wife. However, the Book of Deuteronomy contains a mitzvah of levirate marriages – yivum – which obligate a man to marry the childless widow of his deceased brother. Henry argued that since Catherine and Arthur’s wedding was never consummated, there was no obligation of yivum, and his marriage to Catherine was null and void and forbidden.
Sounds Talmudic. Indeed, that was what Henry thought and he arranged to purchase a full set of the full Babylonian Talmud that had been printed in Venice (by the non-Jewish printer, Bomberg) with the hope that Massechet Yevamot and perhaps Massechet Gittin would be helpful. In the end, the Talmud did not prove useful to him and it ended up in Westminster Abby before being purchased by a Jewish book collector in the 1980s. Henry did find another way to end his marriage to Catherine. Don’t feel too bad for her. Catherine’s parents were Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, the king and queen who expelled the Jews in 1492.
But if the Talmud was not useful to Henry VIII, the Torah itself became a central document in another debate involving another English king a few centuries later.
In 1649, inspired by a proto-democratic ideology the English parliament tried, convicted, and executed King Charles for the crime of treason. This may have been a mistake. As soon as the king was dead, he was transformed from a villain into a martyr. In the chaotic years that followed, a flurry of essays and books were published by English philosophers and thinkers on the topic of government and sovereignty. One trend argued that it was impossible to accuse a king of treason since kings were chosen by God to rule their nations it was a logical impossibility for them to be guilty of treason. John Milton, most famous today as a poet, was tasked with writing a response that established a rationale for popular democratic sovereignty that stood over and above the right of a king to rule.
Among the arguments that Milton expressed was one that derived from this week’s Torah portion. In his work, “Defense of the English People,” published in 1651 – just a few years after the regicide of King Charles. Milton writes:
“Let God himself be heard…God has decided then that the form of a commonwealth is more perfect than that of a monarchy as human conditions go, and of greater benefit to his own people; since he himself set up this form of government.” Kingship in the Bible, Milton argue was a concession undertaken “not willingly.”
Before evaluating the merits of Milton’s claims, it is worth reminding ourselves that the Torah exists in the world in several different versions. The book that Jews refer to as the Torah was given to Moshe alongside the Oral Torah. When we study Torah for guidance on how to live our lives, we do so by turning both to the written Torah and the Oral Torah and rabbinic tradition. But the Torah is also a really important part of the Christian Old Testament, a book that shaped the last 2000 years of world history, including politics in England and the United States.
Milton, as any reader of Paradise Lost would attest, was a careful and subtle reader of the Bible. He also had exposure to Jewish Biblical interpretations and numerous influences of Rashi’s commentary, for example, can be found in Paradise Lost. (Remember, Richard the “Lionhearted” – who was a terrible king – had expelled the Jews from England in 1291 and it was Oliver Cromwell and his parliamentary allies who invited the Jews back to England so it might not be so surprising that Milton was exposed to Jewish Biblical scholarship). In this instance too, there is much merit to Milton’s claim about the Biblical form of government.
In our parashah, the Torah introduces the possibility of a future king. The passage in Sefer Devarim that delineates the possibility for a king is fascinating and ambiguous and contains so many curious details.
יד כִֽי־תָבֹ֣א אֶל־הָאָ֗רץ אֲשֶ֨ר יְהוָ֤ה אֱלהֶ֙יָ֙ נֹתֵ֣ן לְָ֔ וִֽירשְתָ֖ה וְיָשַ֣בְתָה בָ֑ה וְאָמַרתָ֗ אָשִ֤ימָה עָלַי֙ מֶ֔לְֶ כְכָל־הַגויִ֖ם אֲשֶ֥ר סְבִיבֹתָֽי׃ טו ש֣ום תָשִ֤ים עָלֶ֙יָ֙ מֶ֔לְֶ אֲשֶ֥ר יִבְחַ֛ר יְהוָ֥ה אֱלהֶ֖יָ ב֑ו מִקֶ֣רב אַחֶ֗יָ תָשִ֤ים עָלֶ֙יָ֙ מֶ֔לְֶ ל֣א תוכַ֗ל לָתֵ֤ת עָלֶ֙יָ֙ אִ֣יש נָכְר֔י אֲשֶ֥ר לֽא־אָחִ֖יָ הֽוא׃ טז רק֮ לא־יַרבֶה־ל֣ו סוסִים֒ וְלֽא־יָשִ֤יב אֶת־הָעָם֙ מִצְר֔יְמָה לְמַ֖עַן הַרב֣ות ס֑וס וַֽיהוָה֙ אָמַ֣ר לָכֶ֔ם ל֣א תֹסִפ֗ון לָש֛וב בַדֶ֥רְ הַזֶ֖ה עֽוד׃ יז וְל֤א יַרבֶה־לו֙ נָשִ֔ים וְל֥א יָס֖ור לְבָב֑ו וְכֶ֣סֶף וְזָהָ֔ב ל֥א יַרבֶה־ל֖ו מְאֹֽד׃ יח וְהָיָ֣ה כְשִבְת֔ו עַ֖ל כִסֵ֣א מַמְלַכְת֑ו וְכָ֨תַב ל֜ו אֶת־מִשְנֵ֨ה הַתור֤ה הַזֹאת֙ עַל־סֵ֔פֶר מִלִפְנֵ֥י הַכֹהֲנִ֖ים הַלְוִיִֽם׃ יט וְהָיְתָ֣ה עִמ֔ו וְק֥רא ב֖ו כָל־יְמֵ֣י חַיָ֑יו לְמַ֣עַן יִלְמַ֗ד לְיִראָה֙ אֶת־יְהוָ֣ה אֱלהָ֔יו לִ֠שְמֹר אֶֽת־כָל־דִבְר֞י הַתור֥ה הַזֹ֛את וְאֶת־הַחֻקִ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶה לַעֲשֹתָֽם׃ כ לְבִלְתִ֤י רום־לְבָבו֙ מֵֽאֶחָ֔יו ולְבִלְתִ֛י ס֥ור מִן־הַמִצְוָ֖ה יָמִ֣ין ושְמֹ֑אול לְמַעַן֩ יַאֲר֨יְ יָמִ֧ים עַל־מַמְלַכְת֛ו ה֥וא ובָנָ֖יו בְק֥רב יִשְראֵֽל׃
If, after you have entered the land that the LORD your God has assigned to you, and taken possession of it and settled in it, you decide, “I will set a king over me, as do all the nations about me,” 15 you shall be free to set a king over yourself, one chosen by the LORD your God. Be sure to set as king over yourself one of your own people; you must not set a foreigner over you, one who is not your kinsman. 16 Moreover, he shall not keep many horses or send people back to Egypt to add to his horses, since the LORD has warned you, “You must not go back that way again.” 17 And he shall not have many wives, lest his heart go astray; nor shall he amass silver and gold to excess. 18 When he is seated on his royal throne, he shall have a copy of this Teaching written for him on a scroll by the levitical priests. 19 Let it remain with him and let him read in it all his life, so that he may learn to revere the LORD his God, to observe faithfully every word of this Teaching as well as these laws. 20 Thus he will not act haughtily toward his fellows or deviate from the Instruction to the right or to the left, to the end that he and his descendants may reign long in the midst of Israel.
First, we are told כִֽיָ־תבֹ֣א אֶלָ־האָ֗רץ that only after we have successfully conquered and divided Eretz Yisrael can we appoint a king. Wouldn’t a king be useful to lead us in battle?
Second, the appointment of a king is preceded by a request from the people themselves
מֶ֔לְֶ כְכָל־הַגויִ֖ם אֲשֶ֥ר סְבִיבֹתָֽי׃ וְאָמַרָ֗ת אָשִ֤יָמה עָלַי֙
which immediately raises the question of whether that request is one that is considered noble and good or whether it is inherently problematic? Are we obligated to request a king or are we merely permitted to have one? A request to do something just like the other nations around us seems like the sort of thing the Torah warns us against.
Third, the Torah does not explain any of the privileges or prerogatives of the king. What are his rights and responsibilities? What does he do? On the the contrary, the Torah only lists restrictions on the king. He cannot have many wives. He cannot own many horses. The only obligation he has is to write a Torah scroll for himself that he keep beside him and read to remind him to remain subservient to the mitzvot.
The Malbim, a 19th century rabbi and author of a fascinating and discerning Torah commentary, answers these questions through a creative and compelling read of these Torah verses:
If we make the request for a king in the fashion of “I will set a king over me, as do all the nations about me,” God’s response will be
ש֣ום תָשִ֤ים עָלֶ֙יָ֙ מֶ֔לְֶ אֲשֶ֥ר יִבְחַ֛ר ה׳ אֱלהֶ֖יָ
“You shall point the king that the Lord your God shall choose.” That is to say that the restrictions and regulations on the king are a negation of the mistaken request from the people for a king like the other nations. We may want to imitate their form of monarchy, but God will not let us do so but instead will choose a more limited form of kingship.
It’s also possible to read the request for a king “like the other nations” as a pragmatic request for a more effective and efficient form of government. That debate, are we imitating the style of government of non-Jewish nations for pragmatic reasons or because we wish to be like them is a very contemporary question.
Amos Oz, the Israeli novelist won the International Literature Prize for his 2016 novel “Judas,” a novel that includes a character Shaltiel Abravanel, who disdains nations and nation-states as an inherently non-Jewish and destructive idea. In writing Shaltiel Abravanel’s words, Oz borrowed from his own book “In the Land of Israel” which was published in 1983. Here is the passage, from Oz’s earlier book that is the core of Shaltiel Abravanel’s political philosophy:
The idea of the nation-state is, in my eyes, “goyim naches” – a gentiles’ delight. I would be more than happy to live in a world composed of dozens of civilizations…without any one emerging as a nation-state: no flag, no emblem, no passport, no anthem. No nothing.
This position asserts that wanting a king “like the other nations” is inherently assimilationist. But Oz himself understands that nation states are really useful at protecting their citizens. He continues and writes:
But the Jewish people has already staged a long running one-man show of that sort. The international audience sometimes applauded, sometimes threw stones, and occasionally slaughtered the actor. No one joined us; no one copied the model the Jews were forced to sustain for two thousand years, the model of a civilization without the “tools of statehood.” For me this drama ended with the murder of Europe’s Jews by Hitler. And I am forced to take it upon myself to play the “game of nations,” with all the tools of statehood, even though it causes me to feel (as George Steiner put it) like an old man in a kindergarten.
This more moderate perspective recognizes that we may need to avail ourselves of the forms of government popular among the surrounding nations, once upon a time, monarchy, today nation-states, not because the nation state is a more refined or exalted form of government, but simply because not doing so is no longer tenable.
And in this way, I believe the model of the king as described in this week’s Torah portion is a healthy way for us to think about Jewish peoplehood and Jewish pride and Jewish nationalism. Assimilation is always destructive to cultures that have a reason for existence. If Judaism has any enduring value and relevance than we should be authentic to ourselves and our traditions and figure out a way forward for our communities without trying to imitate what we see around us.
At the very same time, adopting helpful tools for survival and adaptation from wise people among whom we live is indispensable for survival. The Torah tells us, as the Malbim so helpfully showed, that if we make a request based on a desire to imitate others, that request will be denied. God will deny our request and tell us precisely what sort of king we will have – a very different model from anything seen anywhere else.
On the other hand, if we look around at a dangerous world, and see ways to defend ourselves and protect ourselves, like a king once upon a time, or the nation state today, we should avail ourselves of those tools. But even then, the king has to write a Torah for himself, keep it beside his throne, and refer to it every day of his reign. The king must be obedient to the Torah, the nation-state must be in service of its citizens, and Jewish peoplehood must be nourished to protect and spread Judaism.
Rabbi David Wolkenfeld 