The Torah, the Army, and the troops
Q: What is the proper role of religion -- and personal religious belief -- in the U.S. armed forces? Should a particular religious affiliation disqualify someone from active military service? How far should the military go to accommodate personal religious beliefs and practices?
The Torah teaches that "ordinary" life-concerns of a soldier, as well as what we might call issues of religion and conscience, stand paramount in an army's relationship to its troops.
It teaches (Deut. 20: 5-8):
Then the officials shall address the troops: "Is there anyone who has built a new home but not yet dedicated it? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in battle and another dedicate it.
"Is there anyone who has planted a vineyard but has never harvested it? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in battle and another initiate it.
"Is there anyone who has paid the bride-price for a wife, but who has not yet married her? Let him return to his home, lest he die in battle and another marry her.
The officials shall go on addressing the troops and say, "Is there anyone afraid or gentle-hearted [= rakh halevav; also "disheartened," or "softhearted"]? Let him go back to his home, lest he melt the heart of his brothers, like his heart!"
I Maccabees 3:56 reports that even in the moment of resistance to the Syrio-Hellenistic empire ruled by Antiochus, Judah Maccabee applied this passage of Torah and ordered back to their homes the newly married, the new homebuilders, etc., and those who were gentle-hearted.
Notice that this war was being fought against an imperial occupation of the Land of Israel, against an enemy that had desecrated the Temple and commanded idolatry.
About three centuries after the Maccabeean wars, when the Rabbis took up the question of interpreting this Torah passage, some of them asked why the last verse specified both "afraid" and "gentle-hearted" as reasons to exempt a man from military service.
According to one interpretation, those who must be exempted from army service are not only those who are afraid to be killed but also those who are gentle of heart lest they become killers.
The Tosefta Sotah 7:22 quotes Rabbi Akiva as saying, "Why does the verse then say 'and the disheartened'? To teach that even to the mightiest and strongest of men if he is compassionate (Rachaman) he should turn back."
Notice that the gentle-hearted MUST be exempted; if that is how they feel, there is no discretion, not the Army's and not theirs, to conscript them.
And notice that the Torah's concern is both for conscience and for practicality: if they stay in the Army, their example may bring other soldiers to become unwilling to kill, or to die.
This provision operates also as a rough public check-and-balance to measure whether the people really believes a specific war is worth dying for and worth killing for.
If many soldiers begin to take the position that a specific war is not worth their dying or killing, the war may become impossible for the nation to fight.
If on the other hand, most eligible fighters rally vigorously to the cause, the war can probably be fought.
How might we apply this teaching today? First of all, the exempt young men - newly married, newly housed - are likely to be exactly the people whom modern armies most wish to recruit: those between 18 and 25. The Torah thought life-pursuits were more urgent than war.
And the provision for exempting both "cowards" and the "gentle-hearted" certainly would include those who today object to taking part in any specific war, as well as all wars.
By these standards, Major Hasan would have been ushered out of the Army as soon as he voiced his objections to serving in Afghanistan.
And maybe this kind of war, viewed with aversion by a growing majority of Americans, would indeed become impossible.
By
Arthur Waskow
|
November 11, 2009; 11:02 AM ET
Save & Share:
Previous: Major faiths no threat to U.S. |
Next: A soldier's religion ought not matter
Posted by: justillthennow | November 11, 2009 5:47 PM
Report Offensive Comment
The comments to this entry are closed.

Twitter










Fascinating essay, that draws to an equally fascinating contemplation. Thanks for this essay!