One of the most damaging falsehoods of the modern era is the claim that “one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter”. The assertion that it is only whether or not one sympathizes with a given cause that determines the acceptance of the actions of an accused terrorist has been known to be without merit from the dawn of moral philosophy, a fact clear to the forefather Avraham, ancestor of both the Jewish and Islamic faiths.
Avraham was a true freedom fighter, tasked with liberating his captive nephew Lot (Gen. ch. 14). Despite the urgency of the mission, Rabbinic sources (see Rashi, Genesis 15) indicate that Abraham understood that there were limits on his latitude. While the threats to Lot’s life could be addressed by killing those who endangered him, it would not be legitimate to kill any innocent party.
Nonetheless, Avraham receives Divine assurance, after the fact, that he bore no guilt. One explanation for this is that he came to understand that his activity had not been simply the rescue of an individual, which would justify lethal action against the aggressors, but not any non-threatening individual who may be in the path. Rather, he had been waging a war, which allowed for a broader field of attack. (See R. Mordechai Carlebach, Chavatzelet HaSharon, Genesis, pp. 142-144, based on the commentary of Taz. He notes the spoils of war are elements unique to that framework, and the offering of those to Abraham was relevant to his shifting perception.)
War, it is understood, is different. It is undeniably evident that the reality of warfare changes everything, including the most basic principles of Jewish law and ethics. If war is to be accepted as legitimate – which Jewish tradition clearly does, at least under the proper circumstances and protocols – it must also be granted that there inheres within it the justification for radically changed norms.
Most fundamentally, this is true in two senses: War legitimates the taking of life in its prosecution, despite the severe prohibition of murder; and it mandates the risking of lives, which is otherwise subject to a prohibition as well. (See Minhat Chinnukh, Mitzvah#426 and# 604; Gur Aryeh, Genesis 34:13; Netziv, in Ha’amek Davar, Genesis 9:5 and Meromei Sadeh to Eruvin 45a.; Responsa Dvar Yehoshua II, 48, and in greater detail in the maftehot; Chiddushei Maran Riz HaLevi al HaTorah, Haftarat Parashat Beshalah; Resp. Mishpat Kohen, #143; R. Asher Weiss, Minhat Asher al ha-Torah (first edition), Deuteronomy 32; R. Shaul Yisraeli, Amud HaYemini, 16, B’Ikvei HaTzon, 32:4.
One path to explain the distinction is that the activation of the war designation identifies the parties involved as national entities, rather than individuals (see Maharal of Prague, Gur Aryeh, Gen. 34:13). As such, even those who may not be active threats, but are connected to the larger group, become active parties to the conflict. It must be stressed, however, that this would not justify the wanton, unnecessary killing of civilians in that group. Even an actual pursuer is only a legitimate target for lethal force if there is no other way to stop him; when there are non-fatal alternatives, killing him reverts to homicide. Presumably, when the concept is scaled up to a national level, it becomes legitimate to include civilians to the extent the aggression of their national entity cannot be combatted otherwise; beyond that, however, there would be no such license, at least not from the rodef principle.
The nationalization of the defense principle would mean, additionally, that it could be activated even if no human beings are threatened. If an adversarial nation sought to capture territory, even were it to be clear they could do so without killing anyone, military action would be justified in defense of the national territorial integrity.
Similarly, the notion that one is obligated to endanger himself for war of this type can be illuminated by this idea as well. Just as an individual whose life is threatened will certainly be motivated to fight his pursuer, one who is part of a national entity under attack, even if he is personally not threatened, responds due to this group identification.
While the “nationalization principle” makes significant contributions in understanding the unusual rules of war, more can still be discerned with additional analysis. A starting point may be considering the philosophical underpinnings of the prohibition against murder.
The prohibition of homicide has unique aspects to it. There are strong reasons why it must be treated as a formalist prohibition: as a moral concept, it ranks supreme, impacting upon the most sacred of human and Divine values. Further, the risks of allowing individuals to make independent decisions as to the taking of human lives are intolerable, and no area is more in need of formalistic policy.
However, when war is involved, there is a strong role for consequentialism as well in both the preservation and the dignity accorded to human life. The threats that are assembled against these core treasures on a global level cannot always be removed peacefully, and to allow them to remain unchecked is to assault human life in its own way, particularly in light of the “Do not stand idly by [in the face of a threat to] your brother’s blood” (Lev 19:16) prohibition and the values system that represents.
Nonetheless, consequentialism – to maintain that the ends justify the means - in the area of life and death cannot be the domain of the individual. To a certain extent, the Justice systems, both halakhic and civil, are empowered to fill this gap, but they can only address that which falls under their authority and jurisdiction, de jure and de facto. Threats on a national and global scale cannot be attended to in those settings.
It is here where warfare becomes a necessity. By its nature, to accomplish its goals, war must be able to function consequentially. Of course, this is not to eliminate the space for military ethics; thankfully, humanity has developed to the point where moral frameworks can be imposed even within the consequentialist reality of the battlefield.
Wars, at least when waged by civilized nations, are necessarily guided by the cold calculation of numbers. Decisions are made to save the most lives at the cost of smaller numbers, to risk and endanger segments of the population on the hope that larger segments will survive. There is no other way to function in this context.
The brutal pragmatism of warfare is only defensible because it emanates from a values-based premise: human life is of infinite worth. Once that principle is established, it then becomes possible to act to maximize gains and minimize losses. It is worth going to war to save millions of lives because each single life is endlessly valuable.
R. Shaul Yisraeli (Amud HaYemini, pp. 194-195), in struggling to understand the question of how the existence of war as a concept reshapes moral principles – ultimately suggests that it operates on a principle similar to dina de-malkhuta dina, the notion recognizing the law of the land as binding. Just as that rule, according to some interpretations, emerges from a social contract of mutual consent, the fact that the nations of the world have always conducted international affairs through warfare conveys its legitimacy. As such, the evolution of laws of war have enhanced the morality of the conduct within that structure, through the same mechanism.
Further still, every gesture toward the sanctity and preciousness of life contributes to an evolving understanding, that one hopes will slowly have an impact as well. For now, protecting life often means that aggressive and harsh measures must be taken against those who threaten it, and tragically, inevitably impacting those who are innocent as well. But the belief in a perfectable world means that good people can continue to strive against all obstacles to model a humanity in the image of God, and that someday, it can be different.
It is noteworthy that the appellation “Abraham Accords” given to successful peace efforts in the Middle East can refer not only to the shared ancestry of the involved parties, but also to the rejection of terrorism modeled by Avraham himself. No terrorist can be a freedom fighter, because the two are as far from each other as good and evil. Confusing the two has led to a confused generation, deaf to the call of the most basic principles of morality and civilization. It falls upon those who retain the moral clarity of Abraham to teach the truth, both through modeling and persuasion, in the hope of changing hearts and minds; a task worthy of the heirs of Abraham.
Rabbi Daniel Feldman
