Dear Friends,
Although we may not be seeing it of late, there are ethical and moral rules of war. Obviously, in our more recent day, nations are encouraged to follow the Geneva Convention, which protects combatants, non-combatants, prisoners and more.
In antiquity, Torah had much to say, most of it found in this week’s Torah portion. It addresses respect for soldiers who may be newly married, or who may be afraid, treatment of one’s enemy’s livestock, the primacy of offering terms of peace, and, interestingly, concern for trees. Note what is stated in Deuteronomy:
“When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding the ax against them. You may eat of the tree, but you must not cut them down. Are trees of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?” (Deuteronomy 20:19)
Fascinating! Later, Deuteronomy issues permission to cut not-fruit-bearing trees in order to construct siegeworks – but not fruit-bearing trees.
Some have suggested a potential self-interest underlying the verse: do not destroy the fruit trees, because you will need them after you subdue the enemy city. Yet, Torah does not state that. Rather, Torah is explicit: are trees of the field human?
The prohibition is not for mercantile interest, but for an ethical rationale. We were not to harm that which is essentially and intrinsically vulnerable. A tree cannot flee from an invading army. It is a living creature created by God in our creation story, no differently than when humanity was created. And, the tree is neutral in war. It cannot take one side or the other. It is oblivious to the grievances or charges of war.
Our task is not to concede or consign this teaching to antiquity, dismissing it as an ancient ethic no longer applicable in our more complex world. Rather, our task is to expand upon this teaching and apply its values and wisdom to further situations. We should note other living and even inanimate objects which are vulnerable to our violence: seals in the harbor, nesting birds in the grasslands, neighboring non-combatant peoples – all of which can be harmed by airplanes, bombs, ship propellers, and chemicals. They are all extrapolations of the Torah’s trees of the field.
Wouldn’t it be nice if such ancient ethical mores guided conflicts today?
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
Although we may not be seeing it of late, there are ethical and moral rules of war. Obviously, in our more recent day, nations are encouraged to follow the Geneva Convention, which protects combatants, non-combatants, prisoners and more.
In antiquity, Torah had much to say, most of it found in this week’s Torah portion. It addresses respect for soldiers who may be newly married, or who may be afraid, treatment of one’s enemy’s livestock, the primacy of offering terms of peace, and, interestingly, concern for trees. Note what is stated in Deuteronomy:
“When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding the ax against them. You may eat of the tree, but you must not cut them down. Are trees of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?” (Deuteronomy 20:19)
Fascinating! Later, Deuteronomy issues permission to cut not-fruit-bearing trees in order to construct siegeworks – but not fruit-bearing trees.
Some have suggested a potential self-interest underlying the verse: do not destroy the fruit trees, because you will need them after you subdue the enemy city. Yet, Torah does not state that. Rather, Torah is explicit: are trees of the field human?
The prohibition is not for mercantile interest, but for an ethical rationale. We were not to harm that which is essentially and intrinsically vulnerable. A tree cannot flee from an invading army. It is a living creature created by God in our creation story, no differently than when humanity was created. And, the tree is neutral in war. It cannot take one side or the other. It is oblivious to the grievances or charges of war.
Our task is not to concede or consign this teaching to antiquity, dismissing it as an ancient ethic no longer applicable in our more complex world. Rather, our task is to expand upon this teaching and apply its values and wisdom to further situations. We should note other living and even inanimate objects which are vulnerable to our violence: seals in the harbor, nesting birds in the grasslands, neighboring non-combatant peoples – all of which can be harmed by airplanes, bombs, ship propellers, and chemicals. They are all extrapolations of the Torah’s trees of the field.
Wouldn’t it be nice if such ancient ethical mores guided conflicts today?
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
