NYP no. 5762.8

CCAR RESPONSA COMMITTEE

5762.8

Preventive War

 

She’elah.

Does our tradition countenance preemptive military action when there is suspicion, but no prima facie evidence exists, that a perceived enemy will attack? My question presupposes that innocent lives will be lost in the event of such action. I would also note that Israel engaged in such an action when it bombed the Iraqi Osirak nuclear facilities in 1981. (Rabbi Benno M. Wallach, Houston, TX)

Teshuvah.

We received this she’elah and composed our answer during a time of fierce national debate in the United States over the wisdom of initiating a war against Iraq. The goal of such a war would be to depose Saddam Hussein, the ruler of that country. The stated justification for this war is that Saddam Hussein’s regime either possesses or is in the process of developing nuclear, chemical, and/or biological weapons of mass destruction, that it poses a threat to its neighbors, and that it someday may come to endanger the security of the United States itself. At the moment, as our sho’el suggests, there is no prima facie evidence that Iraq is actively contemplating or planning a military attack upon any of its neighbors, much less the United States.

We should note that the question does not ask for our opinion as to the advisability of a military strike against Iraq. That is understandable, for we rabbis hardly qualify as experts in diplomacy and defense policy. We have been asked rather to discuss the teachings of Jewish tradition on the general (and hence more abstract) question of the permissibility of initiating a war under these circumstances. While rabbis are professionally competent to address that subject, it poses some serious difficulties of its own. Although Jewish tradition has much to say about the conduct of war, our sacred texts tend to speak to the political context of the ancient Jewish commonwealth (malkhut yisrael) under the leadership of a Davidic monarch. It is instructive that Maimonides in his Mishneh Torah codifies the Talmudic discussions of the rules of war under the heading Hilkhot Melakhim Umilchemoteihem, “The Laws of Kings and Their Wars,” and that the very first law he mentions is the Biblical commandment “to appoint a king over Israel.”[1] We could conclude that the traditional Jewish law of government and war bears no relevance at all to our question, which deals with a non-Jewish government that is not ruled by a king, Davidic or otherwise. We do not, however, draw that conclusion. We believe in a torat chayim, a living Torah. Though the literary sources of our tradition were written long ago in a very different time and place, we affirm that these texts, through proper and prayerful interpretation, address us as well, yielding teachings that have direct bearing upon our own day and our own lives. It is in this spirit that the ancient Jewish law of government and war has been applied to the contemporary context of the state of Israel.[2] It is in this spirit as well that we Reform Jews have historically looked to the Bible and our other sacred texts for guidance in responding to the pressing social issues that face us today.

Let us consider, then, what our tradition has to say about the waging of a preventive war, one that is not fought in an immediate situation of national self-defense. Let us ask whether the lessons it teaches have a substantial application to situations such as that faced, at this writing, by the United States in its dealings with Iraq.

Commanded and Discretionary Wars. According to Maimonides,[3] the king of Israel is permitted to fight two distinct kinds of war. The first category is “commanded war” (milchemet mitzvah), which includes war against the seven Canaanite nations, war against Amalek, and wars fought “to assist the Jews against enemies who have attacked them.” Only when he has completed these military tasks is he permitted to engage in “discretionary war” (milchemet hareshut), a war he fights “against other nations to expand Israel’s borders and to enhance his greatness and reputation.”[4] These wars differ from each other not only in their strategic purpose but also with respect to the rules that govern them. First, the king must consult with and receive the approval of the Sanhedrin before fighting a discretionary war; no such confirmation is required for a milchemet mitzvah, which the king “wages on his own initiative.”[5] In addition, soldiers who participate in a milchemet mitzvah are exempt from the obligation to perform any positive commandment that may interfere with their military responsibilities; those fighting in a milchemet hareshut enjoy no such exemption.[6] Finally, an individual might avoid service in a discretionary war if he qualifies for one of the exemptions mentioned in Deuteronomy 20:5-8 (one who has built a new home but has not yet lived in it; one who has planted a vineyard but has not yet redeemed it for his own use;[7] one who has betrothed a woman but has not yet consummated the marriage; one who is excessively fearful of battle). In the case of a commanded war, however, these exemptions do not apply; rather, all must go out to fight in a milchemet mitzvah, “even the groom from his chamber and the bride from her chupah.”[8]

Many of these laws and teachings do not apply to our day and time. The seven Canaanite nations no longer exist,[9] and Amalek is a homiletical device, a symbol of irrational hatred and evil rather than the name of an actual people. Yet the third kind of “commanded war”–the war “to assist the Jews against enemies who have attacked them”–sadly retains its relevance, reminding us that threats against our national existence continue to plague us. It also teaches us that our tradition rejects pacifism as a policy of national defense. The Torah does not expect us to submit to armed aggression, to stand silently and passively when others seek to conquer and dominate us. The people of Israel have the right to defend themselves from attack. Indeed, we are commanded to do so: the obligation to defend and preserve our lives overrides virtually every other religious duty.[10] Though the word “mitzvah” has a particularly Jewish connotation, there is no reason to believe that the Jews are the only people that is entitled to self-defense. Every nation must possess the right to take up arms if necessary to protect itself and its citizens against military attack.

Discretionary War In Our Time. Discretionary war, too, is still with us, for states continue to fight wars in order to expand their borders and their power, “to increase their greatness and reputation.” Given that Jewish law, as we have seen, permits the state to fight discretionary wars, we might draw the conclusion that it is morally justifiable for governments to wage such wars in our own day and time. We believe that this conclusion is erroneous, for two principal reasons.

First, although the Torah allows the king to engage in war for reasons other than national defense, it most certainly does not advocate that he do so. Indeed, the opposite is the case. Jewish law offers but grudging approval of the state’s military regime,[11] and it places significant roadblocks in the path of the king who wishes to embark upon a discretionary war. Consider, for example, that he must obtain the permission of the Sanhedrin before initiating such a conflict. This requires him to appear before a prestigious legislative-judicial institution to make a compelling case for his war, and it raises the possibility that this case will fail to persuade. Consider, moreover, the exemptions from military service that are granted in a discretionary war. This means that the king must fight his war with a significantly reduced army, forcing him to think again about the advisability of initiating the conflict. These regulations, which make it much less likely that the king will engage in war unless it is absolutely necessary to do so, act as a significant brake upon his militaristic impulses.[12]

Second, although the Torah permits the state to resort to arms, it does not glorify war. Again, the opposite is the case. Peace, and not war, is our primary aspiration; we are commanded to seek peace and pursue it (Psalms 34:15). Our tradition teaches us that shalom, “peace,” is the Name of God and the Name of the Messiah.[13] It informs us that God does not rejoice at the downfall of the wicked; therefore, the angels were forbidden to join in the song that celebrates Israel’s deliverance from the Egyptians.[14] It reminds us that war’s weapons are incompatible with the Temple and the worship of God.[15] Our Biblical history recounts that King David, whose military career offers us the very paradigm for “discretionary war,”[16] was not permitted to build the Temple because “you have shed much blood and fought great battles; you shall not build a house for My name for you have shed much blood on the earth in my sight” (I Chronicles 22:8).[17] To put this another way, David’s aggressive nature was incompatible with the teaching that “one who saves a single human life has saved an entire world.”[18] In its abhorrence of bloodshed, the Torah instructs that before undertaking any war, commanded or discretionary, we must reach out to our foes and offer them peace.[19] All this, we are taught, is because the blessing of peace is equal to all other blessings combined.[20]

From the Torah’s exaltation of peace as a predominant social value and from the strict limitations it places upon the conduct of milchemet hareshut, we learn a somber lesson: war is at best a necessary evil, “necessary” perhaps but “evil” all the same. This lesson in turn leads us to conclude that the Torah’s permit for the king to engage in war “to increase his greatness and reputation” is a political justification of such a policy but not a moral justification of it. This concession to the realpolitik of the ancient Near East cannot blind us to the reality of war as it is fought today, to the horrific price it exacts of soldiers and non-combatants alike, and to the prospect of massive and unfathomable destruction that its armaments have placed in our hands.[21] If the Torah’s teaching of peace means anything to us, in the context of our time, it means that such is too high a price to pay for the enhancement of a state’s material interests.[22] On the contrary: we are morally justified in waging war only when war is absolutely necessary and unavoidable. A war fought today for anything other than defensive purposes must therefore be viewed as an unnecessary evil, as a transgression of the message of the Torah, and as a repudiation of our most cherished values and commitments.

Preventive War. On the other hand, so long as it has made every sincere effort to reach a peaceful solution, a nation has every moral justification to take up arms for defensive purposes. We do not restrict “defensive purposes” to the nation’s own defense. Governments may enter into mutual security pacts in which each pledges to come to the aid of the other if attacked. And at times–though all too infrequently–major powers go to war to protect smaller countries or helpless populations under attack from aggressor governments. Such wars are quite reasonably understood as wars fought for “defensive purposes” and are therefore morally justifiable.[23] A war undertaken in response to a direct attack by an enemy power is undoubtedly a “commanded” war. At issue here is whether a preventive war is included in this category. We want to distinguish between preventive war and a preemptive military strike, such as that initiated by Israel in 1967. A preemptive strike, as we use the term, is one launched against an enemy that has mobilized or is engaged in obvious and active preparation for war. As our sho’el would put it, there is clear prima facie evidence that the enemy is planning to attack. Given this state of affairs, national security is definitely threatened, and it serves no moral purpose for the nation to wait for the enemy to strike before undertaking measures of self-defense. A preemptive strike can in fact shorten the war and thus save many lives that would have been lost in a protracted conflict. Our concern is with the preventive war, initiated against a nation that may plausibly pose a threat to us in the future, even though it poses no immediate or near-term threat and is not currently planning to attack us or, for that matter, any other nation. Can we understand a war such as this as a case of milchemet mitzvah, a war that a nation is morally entitled to fight?

The halakhic response to this question begins with Mishnah Sotah 8:7. Following an extensive treatment of the rules concerning the exemptions from service in warfare (Deuteronomy 20:5-8), the text presents the following dispute:

These exemptions apply to the case of discretionary war (milchemet hareshut). In a commanded war (milchemet mitzvah), however, all must go to the front, even the groom from his wedding chamber and the bride from her chupah.

Rabbi Yehudah says: these exemptions apply to the case of commanded war (milchemet mitzvah). In an obligatory war (milchemet chovah), however, all must go to the front, even the groom from his wedding chamber and the bride from her chupah.

The Talmud (Sotah 44b) offers two explanations as to the nature of this disagreement. According to Rabbi Yochanan, the dispute between the two opinions is purely a linguistic one: Rabbi Yehudah uses the term mitzvah to describe what the anonymous opinion (in the Talmud’s language, that of “the Sages”) calls a “discretionary” war and the term chovah to describe what the Sages call a “commanded” war. Rava, on the other hand, sees the dispute as more substantive:

Both opinions (in the mishnah) agree that Joshua’s wars of conquest were obligatory (chovah) and that David’s wars of expansion (revachah) were discretionary (reshut). They disagree, however, over the case of a war fought to weaken the Gentiles so that they will not attack. One view calls this “mitzvah,” and the other calls it “reshut.” The difference is that, if this war is one of mitzvah, the soldier who fights in it is exempt from the obligation to perform other mitzvot.

In Rava’s view, Rabbi Yehudah adds a third, “middle” category to the classification of wars. In between the wars that we must fight and the wars that we may fight is the type of conflict that we call preventive war, an offensive launched against another nation or nations to forestall the possibility of future attack. Rabbi Yehudah does not regard preventive war as “obligatory”; therefore, those normally exempt from military service are also exempt from serving in this war. At the same time, he does not regard preventive war as entirely “discretionary,” for it might play an important role in the defense policy of the nation. In this sense, he sees preventive war as serving the purpose of “mitzvah,” so that those who do take part in it are exempt from the obligation to perform other mitzvot that might interfere with their military service. (This exemption is based on the rule that “one who is engaged in the performance of a mitzvah is exempt from the obligation to perform other mitzvot.”[24]) The Sages, for their part, do not add a “middle” category to the classification of war. They define preventive war as a form of discretionary war, as milchemet hareshut; exemptions from military service apply and those who do serve in the war are not exempt from the performance of other mitzvot.

Although this text is not free of difficulty,[25] it is clear that the Sages do not view preventive war as an instance of “commanded” war. Maimonides rules accordingly.[26] In this, he follows the well-known decision-making principle that the halakhah is determined according to the majority position in a Talmudic dispute.[27] His ruling is also consistent with the substantive message of our tradition. The Torah, as we have seen, seeks to make it difficult for the state to wage wars that are not absolutely necessary. While a war fought in direct self-defense is clearly necessary and therefore “commanded,” a war initiated against a nation that might attack some day does not fall into this category.[28] It is a “discretionary” war, a war that the Torah grudgingly allows the king to fight, but a war that, in the context of the history of our time, cannot be justified on moral grounds.

The Present Situation. How does all this illuminate the choices that the United States faces as it considers an offensive against Iraq? If we perceive a military strike against that nation as a case of “preventive” war, then the weight of our tradition would counsel against it. Yet it is not at all clear that this is the category we should apply in considering an attack against the Iraqi regime. Let us suppose that the arguments being made in favor of such an attack are in fact correct. Let us suppose that intelligence experts are fairly certain that Saddam Hussein’s regime is building and stockpiling weapons of mass destruction. No hard evidence may exist to prove this assertion, but let us posit that the experts have good reason to believe that it is true. If this is the case, then there is also good reason to believe that this regime, which has compiled a record of aggression against other countries and against its own citizens, continues to harbor aggressive intentions. We would therefore judge Iraq to be a threat to peace and security, if not today or tomorrow then surely at some point in the realistically near future. Under these circumstances, we would be justified in viewing an attack upon Iraq as a preemptive war, as a strike against a real enemy engaged in the early stages of a planned military offensive, rather than as a preventive war against a nation that might one day pose a threat but which does not do so now. As we note above, a preemptive strike in the legitimate cause of self-defense more closely resembles a commanded war than a discretionary one. We deem such a strike to be morally justifiable.

We repeat: morally “justifiable,” not necessarily morally justified. As rabbis, we are in no better position than anyone else to evaluate the military and diplomatic arguments for and against this contemplated war. Based upon what we know as we write these words, it lies beyond our competence to determine whether a strike against Iraq would fall into the category of preemptive rather than preventive war. We do not say that the war is justified but simply that it can be justified, that a case can be made that such an offensive is necessary for the defense of this nation and of others. The government has the right, and indeed the duty to make this case. As our tradition calls upon the king to consult with the Sanhedrin before embarking upon any war other than a milchemet mitzvah, so it is essential that the leaders of the American government consult with the Congress and with the representatives of other governments in order to convince them that this war is clearly necessary for the defense of this nation and of others.

We concede that it may be impossible for the government to prove its case beyond a reasonable doubt. We recognize that its decision may be based largely upon intelligence reports that cannot be revealed to the public. We know that there can be honest differences of opinion over the evaluation of evidence. We also know that governments are liable to make cynical use of the rhetoric of self-defense in order to justify wars that are in truth fought for other purposes. We cannot escape the shadows of uncertainty when considering questions of this nature. For example, to cite the case presented by our sho’el, we may never know with precision just how close Iraq had come to building a nuclear bomb before Israel’s air force destroyed the reactor at Osirak. All we can say is that if the Iraqis were building a bomb there, then Israel was morally justified in attacking the facility in the name of national defense. When diplomacy fails, when our foes spurn the offer of peace that our tradition bids us to make them, when they are clearly bent upon their aggressive course, then the time to initiate preemptive action is sooner rather than later.[29] Ultimately, history will judge the morality of that action. In the meantime, we can demand that our leaders do not lie to us; if they cannot tell us everything they know, let them make their case as completely and as honestly as they can. Human beings assume a high moral responsibility when they propose to lead nations into war; let them accept that responsibility with the utmost seriousness.

Conclusion. Jewish tradition distinguishes between “commanded” and “discretionary” wars; while urging us to refrain from the latter, it permits us to engage in the former. A “commanded” war is a war fought in the name of national defense, against an enemy who is attacking us now or is engaged in plans to attack us in the future. While preventive war, war launched against a nation that might some day pose a threat, cannot be morally justified, a preemptive strike against a clear foe that is presently arming itself can be a legitimate act of self-defense. If the leader of a nation determines that a particular contemplated offensive is, in fact, an example of a preemptive rather than a preventive strike, and when that leader also determines that there is no way to avert the danger through non-violent, diplomatic means, then he or she must justify that assessment to the public, to the deliberative bodies of that country, and to the nations of the world. An attack may be morally justifiable, but the government bears the responsibility to do all that it can to make the case that it is in the right.

It also bears a heavy responsibility for its conduct of the war, no matter how justified that war may be. In the words of a former chief rabbi of the Israel Defense Forces: “Even though the mitzvah to fight wars is laid down in the Torah, we are commanded to show mercy to the enemy. Even during wartime, we are permitted to kill only in self-defense or in pursuit of legitimate military objectives. We are forbidden to harm a non-combatant population, and we are surely prohibited from striking at women and children who take no part in battle.”[30] We know that civilian deaths are inevitable in war, no matter how carefully it is waged. That inevitability, however, does not exempt those who prosecute war from the task of keeping its collateral damage to the absolute minimum.

May the One Who makes peace in the highest heavens grant peace to us, to all Israel, and to all the world.

NOTES

1. Deuteronomy 17:15; Yad, Melakhim 1:1. By reading this verse as a mitzvah, a commandment, Rambam follows the opinion of Rabbi Yose and Rabbi Yehudah in BT Sanhedrin 20b: “Three commandments were imposed upon Israel as they entered their land: to set a king over them, to destroy Amalek, and to build the Temple.” Another baraita in the text preserves an opposing view: “R. Nehorai said: ‘this passage was stated only because of the complaints of the Jews,’” e., the people would one day demand to be ruled by a king so that they could resemble all the other nations (I Samuel 8:5-6; see Rashi ad loc., s.v. lo ne’emrah parashah zo). In other words, the people were permitted, but not commanded, to appoint a king. These positions appear with some minor variations in Tosefta Sanhedrin 4:2.
2. Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Kook provides a famous example of such halakhic reasoning. He suggests that, in the absence of a Davidic monarch (melekh), the powers of the monarch (malkhut) do not disappear but rather revert to the people of Israel. The people can thereupon bestow those powers upon any person or institution they choose; that person or institution thus exercises the full governmental authority of the king ( Mishpat Kohen, no. 144, section 14). On the basis of this insight (chidush), Rabbi Sha’ul Yisraeli develops a halakhic constitutional theory that authorizes the establishment and proper functioning of a modern, sovereign Jewish state (Resp. Amud Hayemini, chs. 7-9).
3. Yad, Melakhim 5:1.
4. See Sotah 8:7 and BT Sotah 44b. The Talmud, quoting Rava, offers illustrative examples of these two kinds of war: “all opinions regard Joshua’s wars of conquest as mitzvah, and all opinions regard David’s wars of expansion (revachah) as discretionary.” Rambam apparently derives his illustrations of milchemet mitzvah directly from the Biblical text, which explicitly commands Israel to wage war against the Canaanites (Deut. 7:1-2 and 20:17) and Amalek (Deut. 25:19). On the other hand, the Torah never explicitly commands us to wage war “to assist the Jews against enemies who have attacked them.” R. Shelomo Goren, in his treatise Meshiv Milchamah 3:372, derives the Toraitic basis for such a war from Lev. 19:16, “do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor,” which the Rabbinic tradition interprets as a positive duty to save the life of one who is in danger (BT Sanhedrin 73a).
5. Yad, Melakhim 5:2, from Sanhedrin 1:5 and 2:4.
6. BT Sotah The principle here is “one who is engaged in the performance of a mitzvah is exempt from the performance of other mitzvot” (BT Sukah 25 a and 26a, but the concept exists elsewhere, as with the exemption of the bridegroom from the requirement to recite the Shema on his wedding night; see BT Berakhot 11a and 16a).
7. See Lev. 19:23-25.
8. Yad, Melakhim 7:1-4, from Sotah 8:1ff.
9. See Yadayim 4:4: Sennacherib, the king of Assyria, long ago destroyed the nations and blurred the ancient boundaries between them.
10. The rule of self-defense is derived from a number of citations in our literature. See principally BT Yoma 85b, where we learn that the saving of life (pikuach nefesh) takes precedence over the observance of Shabbat and sets aside its prohibitions. On the specific issue of defensive warfare on Shabbat, see BT Eruvin 45a, Yad, Shabbat 2:23, and Shulchan Arukh Orach Chayim 329:6-7.
11. In I Samuel 8, we read that the people demand that the prophet Samuel anoint a king “to rule over us, like all the other nations.” Samuel (v. 11ff) informs the people of what they are truly asking, listing a number of oppressive measures, such as the creation of armies, that a king might undertake. He calls this mishpat hamelekh, “the royal constitution.” The people accept it, despite Samuel’s attempts to dissuade them. The Talmud preserves two important rabbinic opinions on this passage (BT Sanhedrin 20b). One view holds that “the king is permitted all powers enumerated in Samuel’s list.” Another suggests that Samuel’s enumeration was intended solely to intimidate the people, to dissuade them from demanding a king. These two viewpoints are, at bottom, not at all contradictory: yes, the king legitimately exercises all the powers enumerated in Samuel’s “royal constitution” (Yad, Melakhim 4:1 and Kesef Mishneh ad loc.), but woe to the people whose king engages in warlike behavior. For an agadic description of the decision-making process leading to discretionary war, see BT Berakhot
12. A conclusion drawn explicitly by R. Chaim David Halevy, the late Sefardic chief rabbi of Tel Aviv-Yafo, in his Aseh Lekha Rav 3: 58 (at pp. 320-322). He writes: “we learn from this that those who believe that the Torah of Israel is militaristic are in serious error. On the contrary: in a world that was entirely militaristic, in which all problems were addressed by recourse to the sword, the Torah came to teach us that we must restrain such aspirations.”
13. Tractate Derekh Eretz Zuta, Perek “Hashalom.”
14. “My creatures are drowning in the sea and you want to sing?” (BT Megilah 6b and Sanhedrin) The question arises: if the angels were not permitted to rejoice, why did Israel celebrate the destruction of the Egyptians with the Song of the Sea? One explanation is that Israel did not sing. The verse (Exodus 15:1) begins with the words az yashir mosheh, “then Moses sang, etc.” The verb, however, is written in the imperfect or future tense, allowing the Midrash to speculate that the song was in fact not sung at that time but will be sung in the World to Come (Tanchuma, ed. Buber, to Ex. 15:1; see also BT Sanhedrin 91b).
15. Exodus 20:22 (the prohibition against carving the stones of the altar with iron implements). Rashi ad loc., from the Mekhilta: the altar was created to lengthen our lives, while iron comes to shorten them. It is therefore improper to allow iron to contribute to the building of the altar. The Rokeach (12th-13th cent. Ashkenaz) writes that this is the source of the custom to cover the knife during the recitation of birkat hamazon, since the table is compared to the altar (BT Chagigah 27a).
16. See BT Sotah 44b, where “David’s wars of expansion” are cited as the example par excellence of milchemet hareshut.
17. See the commentary of R. David Kimchi (Radak) to the verse. He suggests that the blood referred to here recalls the innocent people (like Uriah) whom David executed or conspired to have killed. Nonetheless, Radak also points to the plain sense of the text, namely that David was a man of war and the Temple, by contrast, is a place of peace. Rambam, in his commentary to Mishnah Avot (Shemonah Perakim), ch. 7 (Kafach ed., p. 394), writes that although David’s wars may have been justified, his military exploits were evidence of a streak of cruelty in him that made him unworthy to build the Temple.
18. Sanhedrin 4:5. Some manuscripts of this mishnaic text read “whoever saves a single Jewish life (nefesh achat meyisrael),” while others omit the word meyisrael so that the meaning is “a single human life” without national distinction. See the hashlamot by R. Chanokh Albeck to his Mishnah, v. 4, p. 445, and Dikdukei Soferim, Sanhedrin 37a. We think that the reading in our text is superior, not only because of its substance, but also because the prooftext cited on behalf of this statement (Genesis 4:10) as well as the words of the Mishnah that immediately follow the citation of this verse (“therefore, only one human was created at the beginning…”) suggest a universal context and not to a particularly Jewish one.
19. 20:10, according to the interpretation of Rambam (Yad, Melakhim 6:1), although the Sifre to the verse restricts the commandment to discretionary war. Nachmanides, in his commentary to the verse, offers a strategy for reading the Sifre as speaking to both commanded war and discretionary war.
20. Rashi to Lev. 26:6, from the Sifra.
21. “When God created the first human, God took him and showed him all the trees of the Garden of Eden. God said to him, “Look at my creations! See How beautiful and pleasing they are! All this have I created for your sake. Take care, therefore, that you do not set upon a course of evil. Take care that you do not destroy My world. For if you destroy it, there is no one who can repair the damage you inflict” (Midrash Kohelet Rabah to Ecclesiastes 7:13).
22. The tradition sees economic interest (parnasah) as the primary causus belli of the discretionary war. See the agadah describing the initiation of such a war in BT Berakhot 2b, as well as the comment in BT Sotah 44b that David fought his discretionary wars for revachah, a term that encompasses “expansion” and “profit.”
23. The traditional Jewish doctrine of rescue, which imposes upon us the duty to save others whose lives are in danger, is relevant here. See Leviticus 19:16, BT Sanhedrin 73a, Yad, Rotzeach 1:14, and Shulchan Arukh Choshen Mishpat 426:1.
24. The formal rule–ha`osek bamitzvah patur min hamitzvah–is found in BT Sukah 25a and 26a.
25. For example, does Rava come to explain the words of Rabbi Yochanan, as Rashi suggests (Sotah 44b, v. mitzvah derabanan), or does he dispute him, as indicated by the parallel sugya in the Talmud Yerushalmi? And if we follow Rava’s explanation, why do we not use the terms chovah and reshut to classify all wars? Why does Rambam, in other words, refer to the wars against the Canaanites and Amalek as mitzvah rather than chovah (see Kesef Mishneh, Melakhim 5:1)?
26. See his commentary to Sotah 8:7 (Kafach ed., p. 185) as well as Yad, Melakhim 5:1, where he does not mention preventive war at all. Lechem Mishneh ad loc. explains that Rambam includes preventive war in the category of wars fought by the king “to enhance his greatness and reputation.”
27. Yachid verabim halakhah kerabim; BT Berakhot 9a and many other places.
28. See PT Sotah 8:10 (23a): “a milchemet reshut is when we attack them; a milchemet chovah is when they attack us.”
29. To take another example, if the British and French governments had reason to suspect Adolf Hitler’s aggressive intent in 1936 when he marched his troops into the Rhineland, they would have been morally justified in taking action to stop him then and there. History teaches, sadly, that they had very good reason to suspect him, and the world paid dearly for their failure to take action at that time.
30. Goren, Meshiv Milchamah, 1:14-16. See also R. Avraham Shapira, former Chief Rabbi of Israel, in Techumin 4 (1983), 182.

 

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