Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 4-6

Shalom, my friend! Welcome to a little journey into some ancient Jewish wisdom. Ever feel like the world is a bit… complicated? Especially when it comes to power, leadership, and how societies are supposed to work? We all grapple with questions like: Who gets to make the rules? What are the limits of authority? And how do we even begin to think about concepts like justice or peace when things get tough?

Well, believe it or not, these aren't new questions. For thousands of years, Jewish thinkers have been wrestling with these very ideas, trying to understand how a perfect world would look, and how we, as humans, can strive to build it. Today, we're going to peek into a fascinating corner of Jewish law that dives right into these big questions, offering a unique perspective on leadership, responsibility, and even the ethics of war. We're talking about a time when Jewish kings ruled, and the rules they followed – or were supposed to follow! It might sound a bit like a history lesson, but trust me, the insights we'll uncover are surprisingly relevant to our own lives and the world we live in today. So, grab a comfy seat, maybe a cup of tea, and let's explore together!

Context

Let's set the stage for our exploration. The text we're looking at comes from a monumental work of Jewish law.

• Who: Our guide today is a brilliant scholar named Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, often known by his acronym, Rambam, or by his Greek name, Maimonides. He was a true giant, a doctor, philosopher, and legal scholar all rolled into one!
• When: Rambam lived in the 12th century (from 1138 to 1204 CE). Imagine a world without electricity, cars, or even printing presses! He wrote all his amazing works by hand.
• Where: Though born in Spain, Rambam spent much of his adult life, and wrote many of his most important works, in Egypt. He served as a physician to the Sultan Saladin's court while also leading the Jewish community.
• What: The text is part of his masterpiece, the Mishneh Torah. This is a massive, comprehensive code of Jewish law. Think of it like an encyclopedia that organizes all of Jewish tradition into clear, logical categories, making it accessible to everyone. Mishneh Torah: Rambam's code of all Jewish law, organized by topic. Our specific section comes from the part of Mishneh Torah called "Kings and Wars," where Rambam outlines the laws pertaining to a Jewish monarch, how they should govern, and the rules for engaging in warfare. It's a rich tapestry of ancient wisdom, legal precedent, and ethical guidelines, all designed to create a just and holy society.

Text Snapshot

Let's dive into a small piece of our text, where Rambam discusses some of the king's powers:

The king is granted license to levy taxes upon the nation for his needs or for the purpose of war. He may also fix a duty on merchandise. It is forbidden to avoid paying this duty. The king has the right to decree that if someone does not pay these duties, his property will be seized or he will be killed. These laws are derived as follows: I Samuel 8:17 states: 'You will be servants to him, the king.' Previously, Deuteronomy 20:11 states: 'They shall be subject to your levy and they shall serve you.' From this association, it is derived that the king may levy taxes and fix duties. The statutes that he establishes in these and related matters are accepted as law for all the matters mentioned in the Biblical passage concerning the king are rights to which the king is entitled.

--- Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 4:1-2 (You can find the full text and more at https://www.sefaria.org/Mishneh_Torah%2C_Kings_and_Wars_4-6)

Close Reading

Wow, that's quite a statement right out of the gate, isn't it? A king can levy taxes and even decree severe punishments for non-payment! It sounds pretty absolute. But let's take a closer look at what Rambam is really getting at here and uncover some deeper insights.

Insight 1: The King's Authority – Rooted in Tradition, Not Tyranny

When we first read about the king's power to tax, conscript, and even decree death, it can feel a bit jarring. Is this ancient Jewish law endorsing absolute monarchy with no checks and balances? Not quite! The genius of Rambam is in how he presents these laws, always grounding them in earlier sources and ultimate purpose.

First, notice where Rambam says these laws are "derived." He doesn't just pull them out of thin air. He points to I Samuel 8:17 and Deuteronomy 20:11. These aren't just random verses; they are part of a pivotal story in Jewish history. When the Israelites first asked for a king, the prophet Samuel warned them about what a king might do: take their sons, daughters, fields, and a tenth of their produce. This warning, known as "the passage of the king," became the foundational legal text defining the king's powers.

As Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, a brilliant modern commentator, explains on Mishneh Torah 4:1:2: "When they asked Samuel for a king, he detailed the rights of the chosen king ('the passage about the king,' I Samuel 8:11-17), and the king earns all the rights written there." So, the king's "rights" aren't just arbitrary power; they are explicitly outlined and, in a way, agreed upon by the people when they chose to have a king. It's like a divinely sanctioned job description!

Furthermore, Steinsaltz comments on 4:1:1: "His laws in all these matters and similar ones are law. He is not subject to rules and laws in these matters, rather he establishes the rules and they obligate the people." This sounds very powerful, right? The king sets the rules. But crucially, these rules are within the framework of what was described in Samuel's prophecy. It's not a blank check for tyranny. The king can set taxes and duties, but these are for "his needs or for the purpose of war," implicitly for the welfare of the nation. It's about maintaining order and security, not personal enrichment.

The text also mentions that the king "must pay their wages" for craftsmen and "their hire or their value" for animals and servants he takes (4:3). This shows a subtle but important check on power. Even with vast authority, the king isn't simply taking things for free. There's an expectation of fair compensation.

Ultimately, Rambam brings this all together in a powerful statement about the king's overarching goal: "In all matters, his deeds shall be for the sake of heaven. His purpose and intent shall be to elevate the true faith and fill the world with justice, destroying the power of the wicked and waging the wars of God." (4:10). This is the true essence. The power is given not for self-aggrandizement, but for a higher purpose: to bring justice and holiness to the world. It transforms what could seem like absolute power into a sacred responsibility.

Insight 2: Waging War, Seeking Peace – An Ancient Blueprint for Ethical Conflict

When we think about war, especially in ancient times, we often imagine brutal, no-holds-barred conflict. Yet, Rambam's laws of war present a remarkably nuanced and ethical framework, emphasizing peace and even environmental protection.

The text states: "War, neither a milchemet hareshut (optional war) nor a milchemet mitzvah (obligatory war), should not be waged against anyone until they are offered the opportunity of peace" (6:1). This is a game-changer! Imagine, before any battle, the first step is always to propose a peaceful settlement. Milchemet Mitzvah: A war commanded by God, like against Amalek. Milchemet Hareshut: An optional war, like to expand borders. This isn't just a polite gesture; it's a fundamental requirement.

What does this "peaceful settlement" entail? The text clarifies: if the enemy accepts peace, they must also commit to the Seven Mitzvot of Noah's Descendants and accept subjugation and tribute (6:2-6:4). Seven Mitzvot of Noah's Descendants: Universal moral laws for all people, like no murder or theft. These laws are about creating a just society for everyone, not just Jews.

• Subjugation: Being on a lower level, not ruling over Jews. This means living under the king's authority, respecting the Jewish nation's sovereignty, and not raising arms against them.
• Tribute: Financial and personal support for the king's public works. This could involve contributing money or labor for infrastructure projects.

It's a system designed to integrate other nations into a peaceful, just order, rather than simply annihilate them. The text even gives specific examples from King Solomon (I Kings 9:15-22) who levied tribute but did not make bondsmen out of the children of Israel (6:6). This shows that the goal was coexistence and contribution, not outright enslavement of all conquered peoples.

Then, there are the specific rules for laying siege to a city: "When a siege is placed around a city to conquer it, it should not be surrounded on all four sides, only on three. A place should be left for the inhabitants to flee and for all those who desire, to escape with their lives" (6:17). This is truly remarkable. Even in the heat of battle, there's a mandated escape route. It's an act of compassion, acknowledging the value of human life and providing an option for non-combatants to survive. It's not about trapping and destroying every last soul, but about achieving military objectives with a measure of mercy.

Finally, and perhaps most strikingly, is the prohibition against destroying fruit trees: "We should not cut down fruit trees outside a city nor prevent an irrigation ditch from bringing water to them so that they dry up... Anyone who cuts down such a tree should be lashed" (6:18). This isn't just about fruit trees in wartime; Rambam extends this principle broadly: "anyone who breaks utensils, tears garments, destroys buildings, stops up a spring, or ruins food with a destructive intent transgresses the command 'Do not destroy.'" (6:20). This is the principle of Bal Tashchit: Do not destroy needlessly. It’s an ancient environmental ethic, teaching us that wanton destruction is forbidden. Resources, whether natural or man-made, are blessings from God, and we are stewards, not reckless demolishers. This foresight, to protect future generations' ability to thrive even amidst conflict, is truly profound.

Insight 3: The Enduring Significance of Eretz Yisrael – More Than Just Land

Our text dedicates significant passages to the unique importance of Eretz Yisrael: The Land of Israel. It's not just a geographical location; it's a spiritual anchor, a place imbued with holiness. Rambam’s words here paint a picture of a profound, almost mystical connection.

The text begins with a strong directive: "It is forbidden to leave Eretz Yisrael for the Diaspora at all times" (5:9). Diaspora: Jewish communities living outside Eretz Yisrael. This isn't a casual suggestion; it's a serious prohibition. But Rambam, always the pragmatist, immediately lists exceptions: to study Torah, to marry, to save one's property from gentiles, or for commercial enterprises (5:9-5:10). Even then, the intention should be to return.

The gravity of this rule is underscored by a poignant example: "Though it is permitted to leave Eretz Yisrael under these circumstances, it is not pious behavior. Behold, Machlon and Kilyon were two of the great men of the generation and they left Eretz Yisrael only out of great distress. Nevertheless, they were found worthy of death by God" (5:10). This story from the Book of Ruth shows that even for understandable reasons, leaving the Land can have dire spiritual consequences. It highlights that staying, even in hardship, is the ideal.

The spiritual benefits of dwelling in Eretz Yisrael are immense: "Whoever dwells in Eretz Yisrael will have his sins forgiven... Even one who walks four cubits there will merit the world to come and one who is buried there receives atonement" (5:11). This isn't about earning salvation; it's about the inherent holiness of the land itself, which offers a unique spiritual conduit and atonement. The text even mentions that "great sages would kiss the borders of Eretz Yisrael, kiss its stones, and roll in its dust." This imagery speaks volumes about the deep reverence and love for the Land.

Perhaps the most striking statement is this: "At all times, a person should dwell in Eretz Yisrael even in a city whose population is primarily gentile, rather than dwell in the Diaspora, even in a city whose population is primarily Jewish" (5:12). This is a radical thought! It prioritizes the inherent holiness of the land itself over the presence of a Jewish community. The spiritual atmosphere of Eretz Yisrael, even among non-Jews, is considered more conducive to a Jewish life than a thriving Jewish community in exile.

Rambam concludes this section with an incredibly strong statement, quoting I Samuel 26:19: "whoever leaves Eretz Yisrael for the Diaspora is considered as if he worships idols." This isn't to say that Jews in the Diaspora actually worship idols, of course! Rather, it's a powerful metaphor expressing the profound spiritual danger and loss incurred by severing oneself from the sacred connection to the Land. It emphasizes that Eretz Yisrael is not merely a homeland, but a vital component of a complete Jewish spiritual existence, a place where one can best fulfill their divine purpose.

Apply It

Okay, so we've delved into some pretty deep stuff about kings, wars, and holy lands. How can we take a tiny piece of this ancient wisdom and make it relevant for our busy lives right now?

Let's focus on the idea that even in ancient warfare, the very first step was always to offer peace. Remember that instruction to leave an escape route during a siege? Or the rule not to destroy fruit trees? These aren't just military tactics; they're profound lessons in mindfulness and restraint, even in challenging situations.

Sometimes in our daily lives, we encounter "mini-wars." Maybe it's a disagreement with a family member, a frustrating moment with a colleague, or even just a difficult internal struggle. Our immediate reaction might be to "attack," to defend ourselves, or to escalate the conflict. But what if, like the ancient king, our first move was to offer peace?

Here's a tiny, doable practice for this week, taking less than 60 seconds a day:

This week, for just one minute each day, try to practice "Peace First Pause." When you feel yourself getting frustrated, angry, or defensive in a conversation or situation, pause for a moment. Just breathe. Before you react, before you speak, before you send that email – take two deep breaths. In that small pause, ask yourself: "Is there a way I can approach this situation with an offer of peace, understanding, or de-escalation?" You don't have to find the perfect solution right away. The practice is just about creating that space, that "escape route," before jumping into battle. It's about remembering that even when you feel justified in your "war," the first, most ethical step is always to seek peace. This tiny pause can shift your perspective and open the door to a more constructive response, bringing a little more calm and kindness into your world.

Chevruta Mini

Now for a little "chevruta" time! Chevruta: Learning with a partner, discussing ideas. Grab a friend, a family member, or just think these through yourself. There are no right or wrong answers, just opportunities to explore.

1. Rambam describes the king's vast powers, but also emphasizes that his actions must be "for the sake of heaven" and to "fill the world with justice." How does knowing that ultimate purpose change your perception of the king's authority? Can you think of a modern leader or position of power whose actions you feel are (or aren't) guided by a higher purpose?
2. We talked about the ancient Jewish laws requiring an offer of peace before war, leaving an escape route during a siege, and forbidding the destruction of fruit trees (Bal Tashchit). Which of these ancient ethical guidelines do you find most surprising or inspiring in today's world, and why? How might applying a similar "peace first" or "do not destroy needlessly" mindset impact a situation in your own life or community?

Takeaway

Remember this: Even in ancient texts about power and war, Jewish wisdom consistently points us towards justice, restraint, and the profound sanctity of life and the Land.