Jews in Ghetto

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       B-H

A Few Reflections on My 57th Birthday and the Warsaw Ghetto

A few days ago, on May 16, 2023, or the 25th of Iyar in the Hebrew calendar, I turned 57. My Hebrew birthday, fell just one day after my solar birthday, marking the moment when Earth was in the same position in its orbit around the sun as it was on the day I was born.

As I was scrolling through a Polish newspaper, as I often do to gather information from various sources and perspectives, I came across an article commemorating the last day of the Warsaw Ghetto. The piece featured several images from the infamous chronicle of Jürgen Stroop, the Nazi officer responsible for the liquidation of the Ghetto, along with a reminder of the basic facts about the Ghetto and the uprising by its remaining inhabitants.

Many of these images are well-known, even iconic, in Holocaust and WWII historiography. Among them was one I had seen countless times before: a group of Hasidic Jews standing before Nazi soldiers.

What I didn’t realize, or what I hadn’t fully comprehended before, was that this particular photograph was taken around May 16, 1943—just days before the Ghetto’s destruction.

The realization struck me deeply, and I couldn’t shake it. The image of these Hasidic Jews, standing in the final days of the Ghetto, stayed with me longer than a day—almost obsessively. This was a community caught at the end of an unimaginable tragedy, in the final days of a war that had already annihilated so much. In those final days, the Ghetto was no longer the home to an almost half-million-strong Jewish population. Of the initial number, over 300,000 had already perished in the gas chambers and crematoria of the Treblinka death camp, part of the Nazi "death industrial complex."

I think I’ve already described my personal discovery of the Holocaust in my book, but since it’s currently unavailable, I’ll briefly recount it here.

Growing up in 1970s Poland was, in many ways, a blissful childhood. We weren’t taught much about the large Jewish population that had coexisted with us for over a thousand years. In fact, I didn’t know about it at all—not my generation. Poland had once been home to one of the largest Jewish populations in Europe, with Jews making up about 8-10% of the population for centuries. Yet, the trauma of WWII overshadowed any meaningful education about Jews, their culture, or their history in our schools. Nearly every Polish family had lost someone during the war, with personal stories of suffering, death, and slavery under the Nazi regime. My own maternal grandfather had survived a gunshot wound to the chest, thanks only to a thick ID booklet he carried. My paternal grandfather, along with his two brothers, was murdered at Mauthausen.

What we didn’t realize at the time was that the Jewish people had faced an entirely different, far more tragic fate. For many Jews, surviving the war, even one member of a family, would have been an extraordinary rarity. If multiple family members survived, it was nothing short of a miracle.

At the age of 19, I learned the full extent of the Holocaust. By then, I was already a student of the Bible, and had recently become the youngest clergyman in my religious denomination. It was at this time that I began to grasp the profound tragedy of the Jewish people’s fate during the war. In 1985, French filmmaker Claude Lanzman released his nine-hour documentary Shoah, which would be instrumental in deepening my understanding of the Holocaust. In Poland, the state-controlled TV aired two hours of the film, primarily to show how it portrayed some Polish collaboration with Nazi forces. The documentary, which was shown in select cities, further fueled my awareness of the horrors that took place during those years.

Watching Shoah changed my perspective forever. I remember going to the screening, as a young person eager to understand the truth of what happened, though I wasn’t a journalist and had no particular access. The film’s portrayal of the systematic extermination of the Jewish people left a lasting imprint on me. It was not just the physical killing but the calculated dehumanization and moral degradation that stunned me.

Polish state TV disclosed two hours of experts from the film in order to show that the film is anti-Polish for in hours of interviews with survivors, perpetrators, collaborators and heroes, there were some parts of the documentary indicating collaboration of some Polish individuals or groups with German nazis.

The Polish nation is still struggling with this topic.

Historians have long pointed out that the Holocaust stands out because of its unprecedented scale and efficiency. The Nazis had created a "death industry," making use of modern technology and bureaucratic organization to carry out mass murder. This was a new level of cruelty in human history.

For thousands of years, Jews had adhered to the teachings of the Torah, believing in a divine, spiritual connection to the Creator. But the rise of nationalism in Europe two centuries ago introduced a new, dangerous ideology: the idea of defining nations through blood, language, and land. For the Nazis, this meant reducing Jews to an inferior race—a view that ultimately led to the horror of the Holocaust.

It was the Shoah documentary that first brought the topic of Jews in Poland to the forefront. For several more years, Poland remained under communist rule, with censorship still in place, yet the conversation gradually became more open.

In the years that followed, Jews were rediscovered as an integral part of Polish history, and this rediscovery was not viewed negatively. The younger generation of Poles was increasingly willing to acknowledge the part of the population that had, at times, openly collaborated with the Nazis, as well as the far more widespread passive indifference of the majority. By the time I was living in the United States, a nationalist movement had reemerged in Poland, sometimes in mild forms, other times in more extreme manifestations. Curiously, this movement found some common ground with the Israeli government and Zionist ideology.

However, in the second half of the 1980s, some books on Jewish topics began to be published. Holocaust history, though crucial, was not the direct catalyst for my eventual decision to convert to Judaism. That process had begun much earlier, driven solely by my desire to connect with the Supreme One—a relationship as described and expressed in His Revelation.

Yet, discovering the scope and scale of the Holocaust, especially the fact that it occurred on the land of my youth and ancestry, was something no intellectually curious or sensitive person could ignore. I immersed myself in the subject, reading everything I could about holocaust and the Warsaw Ghetto. Warsaw was not my own city, but I was familiar with it.

I believe the first book I encountered on the topic was the diary of Henryk Makower, a doctor in the Ghetto’s Jewish Police. From there, I explored every memoir, diary, interview, and, eventually, Jürgen Stroop’s chronicle of the Ghetto’s destruction. Edition of his work, however, lacked photographs or, if they were included, they didn’t stand out in my memory.

Most of the material I came across was written by non-practicing Jews, including Marek Edelman, one of the leaders of the Ghetto uprising, who lived in Poland until his death in 2009. I pored over maps, timelines, and any available resources. But no matter how much I studied, it was clear that only a small fragment of the Ghetto’s reality could be understood. The horror that unfolded there is impossible to fully grasp.

Then came the Ghetto’s picture album, a powerful collection of images. One picture can convey more than a thousand words, and in this album, there were hundreds of such images. Many of them were taken by Nazis themselves, part of their antisemitic propaganda aimed at justifying the existence of the Ghetto and its brutal enclosures. Walls, after all, always require justification, while bridges are self-explanatory.

It became clear to me—and to many historians and sociologists—that the Nazis had a plan, and that plan was grounded in a disturbing social philosophy: "We are all animals—and Jews are no exception." The Nazis sought to destroy the Jewish claim to an angelic, spiritual essence within humanity. They aimed to shatter the notion of a divine connection between the Jewish people and the Supreme Creator. Darwin’s theories provided the foundation they needed, offering the "beautiful idea of design without the Designer," as they saw it.

From the very beginning, it was openly declared that Darwin had provided humanity with the “beautiful idea of design without the Designer.” The existence of Jews became the final obstacle on the path to a world free from guilt and moral responsibility. As outlined in Mein Kampf, Jews were said to have caused two scars on humanity: one on the male organ, symbolizing moral purity, and the other on human conscience—where the weak, sick, and underprivileged must be helped, rather than eliminated from existence or erased from view.

Nazi propaganda sought to reinforce this narrative. It portrayed humanity as merely a higher form of randomly evolved animals, where only the fittest and strongest survive, dominating and ultimately eliminating the weak. This, they argued, was the law of nature. The elimination of the “parasitic element,” namely Jews, was depicted as the righteous thing to do.

The Nazis insisted that Jews were not merely animals like themselves, but that in order to prove the superiority of their own race, it was necessary to eradicate both Jews and their ideology from the conscience of mankind. To achieve this, they created a multitude of propaganda films designed to portray Jews as deserving of their fate.

One such film was made in May 1942, just two months after the Wannsee Conference, where Nazi officials formalized the Endlösung—the Final Solution—to exterminate all Jews. Nazi filmmakers were sent to the Warsaw Ghetto to document the supposed inhumanity of its inhabitants. The resulting footage depicted the Jews as immoral and animalistic in their behavior. Some of the scenes were staged, while others documented the very real moral degradation that occurred within the Ghetto’s walls.

When basic human needs such as breathing are denied, survival instincts force people to act in ways that defy their inherent sense of rationality and dignity. You can label any kind of torture as “enhanced interrogation,” but it does not change the fundamental truth that denying someone the ability to breathe—denying the most basic instinct of survival—compels a person to behave in ways that strip them of their humanity.

The Nazis exploited this second instinct: the need for food. By cruelly depriving the Ghetto population of sustenance, they created horrific scenes for their propaganda films—scenes in which Jews were forced to engage in behaviors that, in any other time, they would have never considered. These were actions that violated their deeply ingrained conscience, shaped over millennia of tradition. The Nazis thought they had succeeded in their mission: they believed they had broken the spirit of the Ghetto’s inhabitants.

But the truth is, the horrific conditions of the Ghetto did not simply degrade its inhabitants. They tested the limits of human endurance, and for many, the Ghetto undermined, if not destroyed, their sense of humanity and their identity as Jews.

The film was made in May 1942, at a time when gas chambers were already under construction in Treblinka and other camps. The deportation from the Ghetto began on Tisha B'Av, 22 July 1942. Over the course of the summer, approximately 300,000 Jews were transported to Treblinka, where they were murdered.

Adolf Eichmann, may his name be erased, was responsible for overseeing the logistics of these deportations. In an act of cruel manipulation, the Nazis handed the task of selecting and organizing the quotas of people to the Judenrat—the Ghetto’s Jewish Council.

The head of the Judenrat, Adam Czerniaków, upon learning what was expected of him, chose to end his life by swallowing a cyanide pill. His successor, however, proved more compliant.

During the first wave of deportations, the Nazis targeted the “unproductive” elements of society: the sick, the elderly, the young, and the so-called “kley kodesh”—the rabbis, scholars, and spiritual leaders of the Jewish community, along with their families. Those who could prove their usefulness or skills were spared, but only for a short while, as long as the Third Reich deemed them of any value.

Some Jews, determined to survive, refused to register with the Judenrat and consequently were denied food rations. Without official registration, survival became almost impossible, and many perished from starvation.

By the fall of 1942, approximately 35,000 Jews remained in the Ghetto, forced to work as slave labor in the Nazi war effort. However, estimates suggest that between 20,000 and 25,000 additional Jews lived illegally within the Ghetto. These individuals survived, often against all odds, through a “smuggling economy” that became increasingly difficult to maintain as the Ghetto shrank and emptied.

On 19 April 1943, the first day of Passover, the Ghetto Uprising began.

I will not delve into the specifics of the Uprising itself, as it falls outside the scope of this discussion. Instead, I will return to the image with which I began this narrative.

The same group of holy tzaddikim—nothing less than malachim (angels) in human form—stood tall in defiance of the forces of evil, once again proving that the forces of darkness could never uproot the Torah from the hearts of the people of Torah. These were the men and women who, in the face of unspeakable horrors, preserved their identity, held onto their faith, and upheld their moral and spiritual convictions in the most dire of circumstances.

They were the ones who, at great personal risk, provided sustenance and strength to the Torah scholars, the Talmidei Chachamim.

There are dark chapters in human history and places so filled with evil that they are beyond comprehension. It is profoundly disturbing to reflect on these moments in time. But the Warsaw Ghetto stands as one of the darkest, most heart-wrenching of them all.

Auschwitz, Treblinka, Majdanek, Chelmno… these places, like Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Dresden, Armenia, Cambodia, Rwanda—the list is endless—represent the physical annihilation of human beings by other humans. But the Ghetto, with its pervasive dehumanization and demoralization, symbolizes something far more insidious.

The Nazis sought to uproot the Divine from the human spirit, to reduce humanity's angelic potential to mere physicality or biology—according to their twisted vision of what it meant to be human.

In image above, Nazis saw the angels, yet they refused to bow.

Perhaps it requires one to be truly human, in the most profound sense, to recognize the Divine.

Religious Jews captured by the SS during the Warsaw ghetto uprising. The original German caption reads: "Jewish rabbis."

From left to right are Rabbi Lipa Kaplan, Eliyahu Levin (son of Rabbi Hersh Henoch of Bedzin), Mendel Alter (son of Rabbi Nechemya Alter); Yankel Levin (son of Rabbi Mottel Levin of Lodz and grandson of the rabbi of Bedzin), unknown and Rabbi Heschel Rappaport, a Gerer Chassid and mentor to young Chassidim.

Photo Credit

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, courtesy of National Archives and Records Administration, College Park

 

https://jewishaction.com/holocaust/the-warsaw-ghetto-an-eyewitness-account/

Gorbatchev

                                                                                                                        B-H

Mikhail Gorbachev has many merits, but one stands out for me: if not for my desire to write a hesped (eulogy) for him, many of my other essays would have been left forgotten in the folder of my computer, never to be shared.

The last time I wrote a hesped for a political figure was for Vaclav Havel and Kim Jong Il, who passed away in the same week. That was years ago. I have no illusions now; I don’t think anyone is waiting for my essays, nor are people particularly curious about what Matys Weiser thinks about current events. There was a time, maybe ten years ago, when I was more active—not just on this blog, but in various arenas. Today, I write occasionally, but many of my pieces age unread in the folders of my computer for months or even years.

So, when Gorbachev passed, I felt an unexpected impulse to reflect on a significant period of my life. This led me back to my blog, where I found that there was much more to say, even beyond what I intended to share in this essay. And I believe those reflections are far more important than what I’m about to present. But for now, please enjoy the following.

I grew up in Communist Poland during the '70s and '80s.

For the first decade of my life, the world around me seemed stagnant. At age four, I was unaware of the political events unfolding in the Polish dockyards—events that saw 41 people killed and over 1,000 injured during strikes against the government. The Polish government, under Party Leader Władysław Gomułka, collapsed as a result of those riots and strikes. This marked the end of Gomułka’s regime and the start of Edward Gierek’s rule, which lasted for another decade.

As I’ve mentioned before, my political awareness began to awaken in 1976, when I was ten years old. That year, another wave of social unrest broke out in Poland. I was old enough to understand that the ruling party might present a united front, but that unity was not for the benefit of the working class. In fact, it was the opposite: the Communist elites had established themselves as the true owners of the means of production, running a system that, as Noam Chomsky would later call it, could be described as “State Capitalism.”

Then, in 1980, Gierek’s government was overthrown by an unprecedented wave of strikes, which led to the formation of the independent workers' union Solidarność (Solidarity). This was a pivotal moment for Poland, but it was short-lived. Just 18 months later, the Polish army was deployed to the streets. A state of war was declared by the Communist government against its own people. The brief moment of freedom was over, and tanks rolled through the streets and forcibly entered the factories where workers were on strike. Many of the Solidarity leaders were arrested, and a few managed to go into hiding, some for years.

I was 15 at the time, and though I didn’t play a major role in these events, I did participate in and even help organize small-scale protests. But as my life continued, I slowly became disillusioned with politics. Eventually, my interest in it faded altogether as my focus shifted elsewhere.

One constant during my formative years, however, was Leonid Brezhnev in the Kremlin.

It’s hard for anyone who grew up in Eastern Europe under Soviet influence not to remember his bushy eyebrows, his slow, methodical speeches, and the numerous microphones that we believed were there to provide him with oxygen, as he could barely stand at the podium in his later years. His age and deteriorating health were frequent subjects of jokes among the population—humor being, after all, one of the strongest defensive weapons for a controlled society.

Brezhnev passed away in 1982 or perhaps was removed from power by the head of the KGB, Yuri Andropov, who succeeded him as leader. But for the citizens of the Soviet Union, life didn’t change much. Andropov, like Brezhnev, was aging, and his brief tenure maintained the status quo before handing over the reins to the even more decrepit Konstantin Chernenko.

When Chernenko died in 1985, Mikhail Gorbachev was appointed as General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union and became, de facto, the leader of the entire country. Gorbachev was seen as a reformist within the Communist Party, but even he could not have predicted that his reforms would, in just a few short years, bring about the end of the Soviet system.

One of the major turning points occurred just a little over a year after Gorbachev’s rise to power, on April 28, 1986. At precisely 21:02, a 20-second announcement was broadcast on the Soviet TV news program Vremya: “There has been an accident at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. One of the nuclear reactors was damaged. The effects of the accident are being remedied. Assistance has been provided for any affected people. An investigative commission has been set up.”

At the time, I was serving a two-year term as a janitor at a military hospital due to my refusal to be drafted into the army. I worked in the pediatric clinic, preparing a mixture of berry juice and iodine to help prevent cancer, as the nuclear cloud from Chernobyl had affected our region too.

I can’t say for sure what influence Tverskys (the Jewish mystics from Chernobyl) had in this world or the next, but cracks were forming in what was one of the most repressive empires in human history. Those cracks, which had first opened in the Polish dockyards, were briefly sealed by force in 1981-82, with tanks on the streets. But the Soviet system could not withstand the impact of the Chernobyl disaster, and its collapse was inevitable.

The Communists initially tried to downplay the true scale of the catastrophe, but the era of Glasnost (openness) soon began. Gorbachev, a reformist, realized that the fallout from Chernobyl—and the ongoing effects of the event—could no longer be concealed.

Perestroika, or restructuring, was another key term that gained prominence during this period. What was initially intended to be little more than a set of cosmetic changes within the Soviet system, spurred on by the aftermath of Chernobyl, Glasnost, and a fresh wave of strikes in Poland, soon escalated into something far more significant. It ultimately led to the total collapse of both the Soviet Union and its system of governance.

In the spring of 1988, workers in Poland went on strike once again. They issued their usual demands for social democratic reforms, but this time they added a crucial call for the release of political prisoners.

By early summer, Polish Communists reached out to opposition leaders, with the mediation of the Catholic Church. Later that year, the Round Table talks were convened, and by the early spring of the following year, the negotiations culminated in a partial return to democracy and the introduction of a free-market economy.

This time, neither the Polish opposition nor the Communist Party feared the possibility of “brotherly” intervention from the Soviet Union, as had occurred in Hungary in 1956 and Czechoslovakia in 1968. On June 4, 1989, the first partially free elections took place in the Communist bloc, and Solidarity members filled all the available seats in the Polish parliament.

The Communists, by now, had come to understand that they no longer held the legitimacy to represent not just the Polish people but those across the Soviet sphere of influence. This was a pivotal moment in the unraveling of the Communist system, and it was largely due to Gorbachev’s willingness to step back and allow nations to forge their own paths.

Gorbachev, once a reformist within the Communist Party, had by then become the supervisor of an empire’s dismantling—an empire that had taken tens of millions of lives over its seven decades of existence.

The day of the Polish elections also saw a tragic contrast: in China, the Communist Party chose to crush protests in Tiananmen Square, using flame throwers to burn many of the demonstrators alive. The image of the lone protester standing before a tank in Beijing has become iconic worldwide, even in the United States.

One might have wondered: Would Gorbachev have followed the Chinese path of defending the system through violence?

Historically, Communist regimes had shown no hesitation in invading neighboring countries or even carpet-bombing their own villages to maintain control. The starvation of millions of Ukrainians during the 1930s was a brutal example of the “dictatorship of the proletariat” that Marxist ideologues endorsed. But Gorbachev chose a different path.

Instead of using force, he allowed each country and republic to take its own path to the future. And it wasn’t just the result of the Soviet Union’s crumbling economy. Empires in such a state are far more dangerous to their populations. In fact, I can’t think of a single instance in which an empire disbanded without a significant loss of life through civil wars, wars of independence, or the collapse of central authority.

As a young man living under Communist rule, like all citizens of my country, I never expected the system to end in my lifetime. I certainly never imagined that it would collapse without the kind of widespread bloodshed typically associated with the fall of empires. But against all odds, it ended—almost peacefully.

Mikhail Gorbachev is despised by many Russians today. We are witnessing an attempt to partially restore the Russian Empire. Yet, for the nations that were once conquered and controlled by the Tsar or the First Secretary of the Party, Gorbachev will remain a hero.

May Hashem bring more rulers like him, leaders who act with wisdom and compassion, in the path toward the ultimate redemption—the coming of Mashiach Tzidkenu.

Do not kill.

                                                                                                                        B-H

Do not kill.

וְאַ֨ךְ אֶת־דִּמְכֶ֤ם לְנַפְשֹֽׁתֵיכֶם֙ אֶדְרֹ֔שׁ מִיַּ֥ד כָּל־חַיָּ֖ה אֶדְרְשֶׁ֑נּוּ וּמִיַּ֣ד הָֽאָדָ֗ם מִיַּד֙ אִ֣ישׁ אָחִ֔יו אֶדְרֹ֖שׁ אֶת־נֶ֥פֶשׁ הָֽאָדָֽם׃

But for your own life-blood I will require a reckoning: I will require it of every beast; of man, too, will I require a reckoning for human life, of every man for that of his fellow man!

שֹׁפֵךְ֙ דַּ֣ם הָֽאָדָ֔ם בָּֽאָדָ֖ם דָּמ֣וֹ יִשָּׁפֵ֑ךְ כִּ֚י בְּצֶ֣לֶם אֱלֹהִ֔ים עָשָׂ֖ה אֶת־הָאָדָֽם׃

Whoever sheds the blood of man, By man shall his blood be shed; For in His image Did God make man.

וְאַתֶּ֖ם פְּר֣וּ וּרְב֑וּ שִׁרְצ֥וּ בָאָ֖רֶץ וּרְבוּ־בָֽהּ׃ (ס)

Be fertile, then, and increase; abound on the earth and increase on it.”

Both Onkelos and Rashi interpret these verses as Hashem’s declaration that He will impose justice on anyone who kills another person in cases where a Bais Din (Jewish court) is unable to sentence the murderer to death due to insufficient witnesses or other halachic restrictions. The second verse specifically commands that the killer be brought to justice and sentenced to death, but only a Bais Din—a Halachic court with an unbroken chain of Smicha (ordination)—has the authority to execute a person. This is the interpretation of both Onkelos and Rashi.

Rabbeinu Bachya writes: “The Torah continues ומיד האדם (and from the human being, etc.). This refers to situations where there are witnesses to the murder. In other words, man must judge the murder when there are witnesses, whereas Hashem will judge the murderer when no admissible evidence is available to a human tribunal.” שופך דם האדם באדם דמו ישפך ("Whoever spills the blood of a human being, his blood shall be spilled by a human being.") The word באדם means "before a human tribunal," indicating that there must be witnesses who can testify. In such cases, the guilty party is subject to execution. This interpretation is also reflected in the Targum’s translation: דישוד דמא דאינשא בסהדין על מימר דיינא דמיה יתשד (Onkelos clearly translates באדם as “in the presence of witnesses”).

Radak comments: ומיד האדם ("If man kills man, G-d reserves the right to exact retribution either in this life or in the hereafter").

Chizkiuni explains why punishment for murder must come from the court: “עשה את האדם (He appointed man) on earth to be the judge, so that fellow man would be deterred from committing sins and crimes.”

Rav Miller adds that action from a human court is necessary because failure to respond to sin leads to apathy toward wrongdoing.

Even a human corpse retains an aspect of the Divine image, but only a living person is truly close to G-d in their potential. When this potential is destroyed by the actions of another, that person loses their Tzelem Elokim (Divine resemblance). As Sforno explains: "It is this ‘divine attribute’ of man that makes him so significant in the eyes of his Creator, who demands an accounting from those who destroy the Divine image by taking a human life.”

Ramban quotes the Sages in Bava Kamma 91b, explaining that a person who commits suicide is also accountable for murder because they extinguish the potential given to them by G-d. See also the commentary of Bechor Shor.

The consequence of taking one's life, however, is not physical death. Chizkiuni further elaborates: “The passage is intended as an answer to people who deny that G-d operates vis a vis man through a system of reward and punishment, i.e. reward after the body has died and punishment after the body has died, and who therefore see in suicide a way of avoiding being held responsible for their actions on earth. Clearly a system of reward and punishment, unless it included posthumous reward and punishment, would be meaningless, and would not act as deterrent not to sin.”

Moreover, Ramban writes that the consequence for killing applies equally to both Noachides and Jews, whether the punishment is carried out by a court or directly by the Hand of Heaven.

In a fascinating commentary on this verse, Baal HaTurim derives the meaning of the verse from the word וְאַךְ (“However”). According to him, any form of self-harming is prohibited, including harmful speech.

In the case of harm toward another person, it is clear that any form of violence, whether physical or verbal, is prohibited.

Alshich, writing shortly after Baal HaTurim, comments on this verse: "A person who embarrasses their fellow to the point that they blanch causes the Tzelem Elokim (Divine Image) to be impaired and is therefore guilty of death, even if they have not physically killed anyone.”

Finally, Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch offers this reflection on שֹׁפֵךְ דַּם:

“The whole value of our being human rests on our associating, not bodies with bodies, but spirits with kindred spirits and recognizing such spirit in every human being. The life, the Nefesh of every human being is entrusted to the care of every other human being. And if, through the guilt of a human being, a human soul departs from this world earlier than God, who had placed it here, had willed it, then God misses it here and is Doresh Midoi  – (Exact in measure). Every tiny minute of the earthly existence of even the most miserable human being is sacred to God, and whosoever shortens his own or anybody else's life by one second is responsible to God.”

Regarding the third verse cited at the beginning of this essay, we will share one more commentary that continues the spirit of the above teachings, again from Rav Hirsch:

“Inasmuch as here the procreation and propagation of the human race have this designation added, the term would represent a swarm of the most manifold different kinds of men. It would accordingly be a description of a diversity and infinite variety of human races, and moreover בָאָ֖רֶץ on the earth, and by the earth, under the influences of the differences of the various lands. And not only שִׁרְצ֥וּ בָאָ֖רֶץ but also רְבוּ - the whole physical, moral and intellectual education equally בָֽהּ under the same influences. (…)Noachian mankind is given the mission to spread over the whole world, and under the most diverse conditions and influences of climate and physical nature of the countries, to become Men and develop the one common real character of Man; a diversity and a multiplicity which appeared to us in the above connection as God's new plan for the education of mankind, to avoid the necessity for any fresh total catastrophe. The diversity is to balance the deficiency and so pave the way to progress to the goal. Hence say our sages on this sentence "God has provided the most differing zones and climates with a special dispensation", (or perhaps more literally : The general covenant of God with mankind is spread over the most diverse districts) — -Blessed be God, Who has given every country an attraction to its inhabitants", and they point out how every race feels at ease in its homeland even under the most inhospitable circumstances, and the most unfriendly districts affect their sons with home-sickness when they are away from them, and in strange lands disturbs their spiritual development. Man, who thinks he is master of the land is, in many ways, in his innermost self, in his mind, feelings, understanding and speech, mastered by his native land, and this variety of countries has a purpose. Everywhere a man can conduct himself as a human being, everywhere be happy, everywhere pure human qualities can be developed in people. Only no man may judge others by his own standards. That is why, at the end of this new conditioning of the world and mankind it says: "diversify your-selves on the earth and multiply yourselves on it, by it, in it, with it etc.”

Martin Buber, in his essays I and Thou and especially The Face of the Other, highlights the profound challenge humans face in recognizing others as fully human. The more different the “other” appears, the more difficult it is to see the Divine in them. This natural obstacle can breed animosity, and, in extreme cases, even murder.

It is precisely this factor—natural diversity—that leaders can exploit to incite violence between groups based on nation, religion, or race.

In contrast, Rav Hirsch explains that this diversity is not a reason for division, but for spiritual and moral growth. Diversity within humanity is the very means by which we come closer to Hashem, by recognizing the “other” as a reflection of the ultimate “Other.”

This insight into diversity can also be seen in the relationship between husband and wife. The Divine image in the spouse allows each partner to perform the highest service to G-d, as explained in The Garden of Peace by Rav Shalom Arush.

It is clear that Buber’s philosophy did not arise in a vacuum. As a German philosopher and Biblical scholar, he was undoubtedly influenced by the writings of Rav Hirsch.

Rav Hirsch is not the only one to describe the goal of humanity and the essence of its struggles in such terms. In future essays, B’H, we will explore the writings of the Nevi’im (Prophets) and even our daily prayers. But already at this point, we are faced with an important question: How, in this context, can we understand the existence of violence? Not violence born of corrupted Gevura/Din (justice and severity), as explained in the previous essay, but how it is sanctioned by governments—historical Jewish governments in the Holy Land, and even by the Torah itself. We will not focus on why violence exists, but rather on how it cannot be utilized in the progress toward a united humanity, under the spiritual guidance of the Jewish people, in recognition of the Creator.

Corruption of Chesed and Din

                                                                                                                        B-H

All of Creation, on all its levels, in this three-dimensional reality—as well as in the realms of intellect and spirituality, and those levels beyond our comprehension—are channeled to us through different conduits or emanations, known as Sefirot or Midoot, which were revealed to Moishe, the Prophets, and the Sages of blessed memory.

These emanations of Divine energy are generally presented to us in the form of two primary columns. On one side is Chesed—Lovingkindness, and on the other, Gevura—Strength or Din (Judgment/Justice).

Within this framework, there are other Divine energies that exist in relation to one another, and each can coexist to some degree with other energies. For example, some amount of Hod (Glory) or Netzach (Eternity, Perseverance) can be found within Chesed or Gevura.

Everything we experience in our existence is ultimately a combination of these energies or emanations. There is no other source of existence or other channels causing reality known to us, other than those emanating from The Source.

So, how is evil possible?

We won’t delve into the intricate and broad discussion of the nature of evil here, as it is a complex topic. For those interested, I recommend exploring the writings and lectures of Rabbi Akiva Tatz, who addresses this subject in depth.

For now, we can say that the source of evil is man himself. It is man who has the power to use and develop these energies in alignment with the will of the One who provides them to us. However, it is also man who, by corrupting the powers bestowed upon him through the channels of Chesed and Din, restricts the flow of Divine energy, allowing evil to manifest.

The history of mankind begins with the description of Creation, followed by certain rules for the created beings, specifically in the two forms of man. Creation is swiftly followed by man’s rebellion.

Countless books have been written on this topic, as it is one of the most potent and foundational. Every word in the Torah often contains layers of hidden meaning, understood by those who are carriers of the Torah Shebe’al Peh—the oral tradition. Since much of this teaching falls within the realm of Kabbalistic tradition, I do not claim expertise in the specifics of the first sin, but the general understanding is that it involved sin within the area of promiscuity.

Michtav mi’Eliyahu expands on the topic of promiscuity in his commentary on Parshas Lech Lecha. Rav Dessler, building on teachings from the Baal Shem Tov and the verse in Leviticus (20:17), writes:

“A person whose main quality is Chesed is in danger that, he may spend more money than he can afford. Then, he will borrow from others and spend it in turn. Eventually it will be found that his excessive desire to do Chesed was counterproductive, for it led him to cause others loss because he could not repay his debts. There is also the possibility that he will eventually "be merciful to the cruel," leading to "cruelty to the merciful," as we find in the example of Shaul Ha-melech. There is also another more insidious danger that, by becoming accustomed to acceding to everyone's requests, he may then come to accede to the demands of the yetzer hara. This is why certain forbidden marriages are referred to as Chesed (The whole institution of marriage is, of course, a great Chesed. Through it, people bestow a great bounty on mankind by allowing a new generation to emerge. But when this deviates from the bounds set down by Creator, by a person acting simply to gratify his desires or by way of sin, God forbid, then it is called "the Chesed of defilement.") Such is the lot of Chesed, which is not limited by the quality of Gevura.” (Strive for Truth)

The aveira (sin) in this verse, one of many within the category of Giluy Arayos (forbidden sexual relations), is a corrupted form of the Middah of Chesed. There are also other Aveiros out of this category which Rav Desler considers as corrupted Chesed.

The second sin in the history of humanity is the act of violence, which results in the death of Hevel, one of the first two sons of Adam and Chava.

I once heard in a shiur that the Vilna Gaon teaches that even anger is a corrupted form of Din. It’s needless to say that violence is simply anger taken to its extreme. Rav Dessler explores this same concept in his writings.

On an individual level, violence manifests as anger, stealing, harm, jealousy, physical and verbal abuse, and many other forms of destructive behavior. On a societal scale, personal anger, stemming from the inflated egos of political leaders or fanatics, can lead entire groups or nations into violence. The "Hunters of the tongue," as Nimrod and Esav are described, manipulate societies to conquer, oppress, humiliate, and control through force, surveillance, or social engineering, leading to violence, death, and destruction.

Violence is a corrupted form of Gevura/Din, and it is often presented as an act of justice. Indeed, justice itself can sometimes be perceived as an act of violence—but even the greatest acts of violence in history are almost always framed as acts of justice.

This corrupt form of Din is a topic I will return to in many of my future essays, Be’ezras Hashem.

Mizbeah - Altar

                                                                                                      B-H

Among many ways to categorize Mitzvois – Biblical commandments, that of differentiating them between those regarding a person’s relationship to Creator and those regarding person to person relationships is probably one of the most known.

Ben Adam le Mukoim and Ben Adam le haveiro are clearly visible in Atzeres Hadibres – the Ten Commandments.

 אָֽנֹכִ֖י֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֑֔יךָ אֲשֶׁ֧ר הוֹצֵאתִ֛יךָ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם מִבֵּ֣֥ית עֲבָדִֽ֑ים׃

“I the LORD am your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, the house of bondage”

The first Mitzva of the ten  instructs us to act as a free people and free individuals. This along with the following four commandments including Kuvoid le Aim ve Av are categorized by Chazal as those setting our relationship with G-d.

The following five commandments clearly regulate our relationships with our fellow humans.

The parsha Mishputim following the Ten Commandments continues in setting detailed regulations of human behavior toward others. Only at the end of the sequence are Yomim Toivim listed, but the argument can be brought that even those commandments are more human-centered than focused on our Creator. The rest of the commandments of the Parsha are clearly Ben Adam le haveiro.

But there are few lines right between Ten Commandments and following parsha which, after the excitement of reading the text written on the Luchois HaBris – Tablets of Covenant, we might be paying less attention to. This is commandment of building Earth Altar – Mizbeah.

That insert clearly interrupts the flow of continuity between second part of the Ten commandments and the detailed laws of human interactions. It sticks there like a giant “BUT” – You should do all those commandments BUT under these conditions, or being restricted by these conditions or setting these as principals when you are doing the rest of the commandments, those listed on the Tablets as well as those following in Parshas Mishputim.

Rav Hirsh notice that three commandments following the Ten from the Luchois are in fact rephrased commandments from the Luchois itself. For these three commandments we must rather give up our earthly existence than break them in any form.

לֹ֥א תַעֲשׂ֖וּן אִתִּ֑י אֱלֹ֤הֵי כֶ֙סֶף֙ וֵאלֹהֵ֣י זָהָ֔ב לֹ֥א תַעֲשׂ֖וּ לָכֶֽם׃

“With Me, therefore, you shall not make any gods of silver, nor shall you make for yourselves any gods of gold”

This is clearly a rephrase of the commandment prohibiting any form of idolatry.

But then a really strange thing happens. Hashem gives the commandment of building the Altar or rather certain details of how the altar has to be constructed and operated. Specifically, there are two details.

מִזְבַּ֣ח אֲדָמָה֮ תַּעֲשֶׂה־לִּי֒ וְזָבַחְתָּ֣ עָלָ֗יו אֶת־עֹלֹתֶ֙יךָ֙ וְאֶת־שְׁלָמֶ֔יךָ אֶת־צֹֽאנְךָ֖ וְאֶת־בְּקָרֶ֑ךָ בְּכָל־הַמָּקוֹם֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר אַזְכִּ֣יר אֶת־שְׁמִ֔י אָב֥וֹא אֵלֶ֖יךָ וּבֵרַכְתִּֽיךָ׃

“Make for Me an altar of earth and sacrifice on it your burnt offerings and your sacrifices of well-being, your sheep and your oxen; in every place where I cause My name to be mentioned I will come to you and bless you.

וְאִם־מִזְבַּ֤ח אֲבָנִים֙ תַּֽעֲשֶׂה־לִּ֔י לֹֽא־תִבְנֶ֥ה אֶתְהֶ֖ן גָּזִ֑ית כִּ֧י חַרְבְּךָ֛ הֵנַ֥פְתָּ עָלֶ֖יהָ וַתְּחַֽלְלֶֽהָ׃

And if you make for Me an altar of stones, do not build it of hewn stones; for by wielding your sword upon them you have profaned them.

וְלֹֽא־תַעֲלֶ֥ה בְמַעֲלֹ֖ת עַֽל־מִזְבְּחִ֑י אֲשֶׁ֛ר לֹֽא־תִגָּלֶ֥ה עֶרְוָתְךָ֖ עָלָֽיו׃ (פ)

Do not ascend My altar by steps, that your nakedness may not be exposed upon it.”

As the Mizbeah is being build and operated, not even the symbol of violence which is the sword should be used in the process and not even a slight exposure of the body should happen.

Those are clearly referencing Shivas Dumim and Giluy Arayos -- two of the Ten Commandments as Rav Hirsh will explain below.

But before we go to the detailed commentaries let’s look at the Rashi.

מזבח אדמה AN ALTAR OF EARTH [SHALT THOU MAKE] — i. e. an altar attached to the earth, meaning, that they should not build an altar upon columns or upon a base, but it must rest upon the actual ground.”

After a general explanation of the commandment of Mizbeah, Rashi explains the further meaning of not using a tool of violence or giving indecent exposure of the body.

“THEN YOU HAST PROFANED IT — Thus you may learn that if thou liftest up thy iron tool above it thou profanest it. The reason of this it, because the altar is created (its purpose is) to lengthen man’s days and iron has been created (one of its purposes is) to shorten man’s days, it is not right that an object which shortens man’s life should be lifted up above that which lengthens it. And a further reason it: because the altar makes peace between Israel and their Father in Heaven, and therefore there should not come upon it anything that cuts and destroys. Now, the following statement follows logically, à fortiori: How is it in the case of stones which cannot see nor hear nor speak? Because that they promote peace Scripture ordains, “Thou shalt not lift up against them any iron tool!” Then in the case of one who makes peace between a man and his wife, between family and family, between a man and his fellow, how much more certain is it that punishment will not come upon him.”

“THAT YOUR NAKEDNESS BE NOT UNCOVERED — because on account of these steps you will have to take large paces and so spread the legs. Now, although this would not be an actual uncovering of one’s nakedness (of the parts usually kept covered), since it is written, (Exodus 28:42) “And thou shalt make for them (the priests) linen breeches [to cover the flesh of their nakedness]”, still the taking of large paces is near enough to uncovering one’s nakedness that it may be described as such, and you would then be treating them (the stones of the altar) in a manner that implies disrespect. Now the following statement follows logically à fortiori: How is it in the case of stones which have no sense (feeling) to be particular about any disrespect shown to them? Scripture ordains that since they serve some useful purpose you should not treat them in a manner that implies disrespect! Then in the case of your fellow-man who is made in the image of your Creator and who is particular about any disrespect shown to him, how much more certain is it that you should not treat him disrespectfully!”

Now after reading Rashi’s commentary we can go further with Rabbi Hirsch’s commentary. As we will see, his understanding is very much parallel with Rashi however Rav Hirsch brings some other details of Mesoira which hopefully will help us understand this out of place insert of the commandments apparently not fitting to the sequence of the Mitzvois Ben Adam le haveiro.

“You shall not make images, shall not form the likeness of the sun or moon or anything that is with Me: but I do allow you to form for yourselves things that are with you; what you are to do, is not to bring heavenly things down to you on earth, but to elevate all earthly things up to Me. When you wish to come to Me, you have not to represent to yourselves things that you imagine are with Me in heaven, but rather to ponder on how I wish things to be carried on by you on earth. It is the earth not heaven that concerns you if and when you wish to come near to Me.

The altar that you build up to Me should represent the earth raised up to God by Men's deeds, Men's action. "An altar of earth "מִזְבַּ֣ח אֲדָמָה֮ direct and immediately from the earth is to arise, even an intervening space of a handbreadth would make the altar invalid. The temporary altar of the Mishkan was itself a freshly erected heap of earth, which was then enclosed in hollow box.

And when you will have finished your wanderings and entered into your permanent State, and then will have also to change your "wandering" altar into a permanent one of stone, then every stone of your altar is to preach to you the holiness and dedication to God of the whole of your national life. No steel may have touched a stone out of which you wish to build your altar, no steel may touch any stone out of which you have built your altar. The stone over which you have swung your steel becomes desecrated thereby for the altar of God.”

Not destruction, not sacrifice, nor giving up life, is the meaning and purpose of the altar, and the sword, the instrument of force and violence cannot get any consecration at the Jewish altar, right and humanity must build the altar, and the realm of rights and humaneness, not the mastery of the sword, is to spread from it. In the "Hall of Stone" adjoining the altar of stone, Jewish Right had its permanent citadel (the Sanhedrin was housed there.I.L.) and not the sword, the altar is the symbol of Jewish Justice. V. 23.

And just as the altar is to be a preacher of right and humaneness, those twin spirits of society striving upwards to God, be a preacher of modest decency, that fundamental trait of godliness in humanity without which justice and humaneness will be sought for in vain in human society. With Giluy Arayos – Forbidden relationships –  the heights of the altar will never be mounted! וַתִּשָּׁחֵ֥ת הָאָ֖רֶץ לִפְנֵ֣י הָֽאֱלֹהִ֑ים וַתִּמָּלֵ֥א הָאָ֖רֶץ חָמָֽס׃ The earth became corrupt before G-d; the earth was filled with lawlessness. (Gen. VI,12) is the oldest and the most serious experience of the history of Man. ("The world became morally corrupt before G-d, then the whole world became full of injustice and inhumanity." I.L.).

To summarize this epilogue to the "Ten Commandments" : the three main sins which undermine our relation to G-d are countered, and to banish them, to expel the very last trace of them from our midst is the object of the Divine Lawgiving. These are Avoida Zura, Shvichas Dumim and Giluy Arayos, the culmination of sin against God, of sin against one's fellow-man, and of sin against oneself. V.20 and V 21 A’Z, V.22 S’D and V.23 G’A. God, society and the human being are the subjects of the Divine Torah, and this epilogue announces that just as our relation to these form the contents of the Lawgiving, so it, and it alone, is to form the subject of the symbolism of the Sanctuary, as a whole, and of all its parts. The altar and the Torah itself have solely human beings as their subject matter and meaning as well as the godly building up and extending of all that true humanity should be .” Rav Hirsch, Parshas Yisro.

Back in Parshas Noach Rav Hirsch comments on the same topic of Mizbeah in following words:

“To take a single slab of stone and sacrifice thereon would mean recognizing God from the standpoint of Nature; whereas the built מִזְבַּ֣ח expresses the conception of first working oneself up above the bound character of Nature to the godlike free-willed standpoint of Man, and, from that point of view, strive upward to God. So that inasmuch as Noah built an altar to God on the fresh gift of the earth, he, as the Ancestor, dedicated this newly-gifted earth to be a place on which the future activity of mankind is to add stone to stone until ultimately the whole becomes a holy mount of God. When other nations tried, and try, to get near their God, they get away from human surroundings and believe they can find God nearer to them out in nature. Certainly, one can find God there too, but He is much nearer in all His Glory in the sphere of a human life. There, in Nature, His Omnipotence, His infinite Power is revealed, here His infinite Love .”

One of the first Talmudic Mesechtois learned by very young students in the Haider is ‘Mesechtas Succa’. One of the first subjects which they learn is ‘Lulav Goizel’ – stolen Lulav and the concept of ‘Mitzva abube aveira’ – Mitzva performed by means of Aveira – sin.

It should be clear to everyone after reading above commentaries of Rashi and Rav Hirsch on topic of the Mizbeah inserted in this strange place, out of flow of the Mitzvois concerning human interactions, why it is there.

We learn from the words of Rashi and Rav Hirsch that the construction of the Altar is raised from below up. It is constructed with our actions, where stones of that Altar are elevated by our submission to G-d‘s Law. We learn that the altar can not contain any elements of intermediary between us and our Creator. No form of violence is justified in building this Altar on the individual or national level (Except actions commanded by Prophets and Sanhedrin). No form of promiscuity should be used to achieve higher goals. 

The commandment of building an Altar with provided guidelines in this place and as explained by our commentators constitutes a general rule for all the other commandments listed in both Atzeres Hadibres and parshas Mishpatim.