Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 7-9

Welcome, study partner! Let's dive into a fascinating passage from the Mishneh Torah, one that often surprises people with its intricate blend of the practical and the profound.

Hook

Ever noticed how the Rambam juxtaposes the raw pragmatism of warfare with its profound ethical and even universal implications? This isn't just a military manual; it's a deep dive into the soul of a nation at war and its universal mission, challenging our preconceived notions of what "holy war" truly entails.

Context

Maimonides, or Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon), penned the Mishneh Torah in the 12th century as a comprehensive code of Jewish law, encompassing every facet of life from the most mundane to the most sacred. Its brilliance lies in its systematic organization and its attempt to present Jewish law (halakha) in a rational, philosophical framework. The section "Kings and Wars" (Sefer Shoftim), from which this passage is drawn, is not merely about military strategy. Instead, it forms a crucial part of Rambam's vision for an ideal Jewish state and society, outlining the responsibilities of leadership and the communal obligations related to defense and the establishment of justice. The inclusion of the Noachide laws at the end of this war-focused section is particularly striking, signaling that even the most intense national endeavors, like warfare, are ultimately subservient to a broader, universal ethical mandate. It elevates the conflict beyond mere geopolitical struggle, positioning Israel’s military actions within a divine framework for global moral order. This isn't just about winning battles; it's about establishing a righteous world.

Text Snapshot

Here are a few lines that capture the essence of our passage:

"In both a milchemet mitzvah and a milchemet hareshut, a priest is appointed to address the nation before the battle. He is anointed with the oil of anointment and is called, the meshuach milchamah." (Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 7:1)

"Powerful officers with iron axes in their hands are placed in the rear of each array of troops. If a person wants to leave the battle, they have permission to chop off his legs, for flight is the beginning of defeat." (Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 7:15)

"Anyone who begins to feel anxious and worry in the midst of battle to the point where he frightens himself violates a negative commandment, as it is written (Deuteronomy 20:3): 'Do not be faint-hearted. Do not be afraid. Do not panic and do not break ranks before them.'" (Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 7:15)

"Similarly, a soldier may engage in sexual relations with a woman while she is still a gentile if his natural inclination overcomes him. However, he may not engage in sexual relations with her and then, go on his way. Rather, he must bring her into his home as Deuteronomy 21:11 states 'If you see a beautiful woman among the prisoners...You shall bring her into the midst of your home...'" (Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 8:2)

"By the same regard, Moses was commanded by the Almighty to compel all the inhabitants of the world to accept the commandments given to Noah's descendants. If one does not accept these commands, he should be executed." (Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 8:10)

[Sefaria URL: https://www.sefaria.org/Mishneh_Torah%2C_Kings_and_Wars_7-9]

Close Reading

Insight 1: The Cosmic Scope of Warfare

One of the most striking structural elements of this passage is the dramatic shift from the very specific, nationalistic laws of Jewish warfare to the universal, ethical framework of the Noachide laws. Why does Rambam include a detailed exposition of the Seven Noachide Laws, their enforcement, and their philosophical underpinnings within a discussion of military conduct? This juxtaposition isn't accidental; it's central to Rambam's understanding of the purpose of Jewish sovereignty and military engagement.

Rambam begins by detailing the role of the meshuach milchamah (anointed priest of war), the deferment laws from Deuteronomy 20, and the harsh penalties for cowardice or desertion. These are specific to the Jewish people and their military operations. Yet, the text then pivots in Chapter 8 to permit certain actions in wartime that would normally be forbidden (e.g., eating treif in dire hunger, relations with a yefat toar), revealing a pragmatic concession to the realities of battle. This pragmatic thread continues until Chapter 8, section 10, where the discussion broadens dramatically: "Moses was commanded by the Almighty to compel all the inhabitants of the world to accept the commandments given to Noah's descendants."

This move expands the scope of "war" beyond mere conquest or self-defense. It reframes the military mission of the Jewish people as an instrument for establishing universal moral order. The wars of Israel, particularly those of expansion or self-defense, are not just for their own sake, but are intertwined with the obligation to bring the world to a state of moral rectitude according to God's universal commands. The ultimate goal isn't simply securing borders or gaining territory; it's about creating a world where justice (through the Noachide courts) and basic morality are upheld. The execution of those who refuse to accept these commands, or the inhabitants of Shechem for not judging Shechem’s actions, underscores the seriousness of this universal mandate. This vision positions the Jewish nation not just as a people with its own laws, but as a vanguard for global ethical enlightenment, even if that means using force to compel basic adherence to the Noahide covenant. The "kings and wars" are thus elevated to a cosmic enterprise, transforming national defense into a mechanism for universal spiritual and ethical repair.

Insight 2: The Meshuach Milchamah and the Nature of Command

The figure of the meshuach milchamah (anointed priest of war) is a pivotal key term that unlocks a deeper understanding of Jewish military engagement. Rambam introduces him at the very beginning: "a priest is appointed to address the nation before the battle. He is anointed with the oil of anointment and is called, the meshuach milchamah." (7:1). Steinsaltz, commenting on this, points to the significance of "וּמוֹשְׁחִין אוֹתוֹ בְּשֶׁמֶן הַמִּשְׁחָה" (and he is anointed with the anointing oil), referencing Hilchot Klei HaMikdash 1:7, which discusses the anointing of High Priests. This detail is crucial. It signals that this isn't just any priest, nor is it a secular military commander. His anointing connects him directly to the sacred, imbuing his role with a profound spiritual authority akin to a High Priest or King.

The meshuach milchamah speaks twice. First, at the border, he offers the deferments related to house, vineyard, and marriage (Deuteronomy 20:5-7). Then, when the army is in battle positions, he delivers a powerful address: "Listen, Israel, today you are about to wage war against your enemies. Do not be faint-hearted. Do not be afraid. Do not panic and do not break ranks before them. God, your Lord, is the One accompanying you to do battle for you against your enemies to deliver you" (Deuteronomy 20:3-4). The content of his speeches is not just strategic; it's deeply psychological and theological. He offers both pragmatic relief (deferments) and spiritual encouragement (trust in God).

This dual role reveals that even a milchemet hareshut (optional war), let alone a milchemet mitzvah (obligatory war), is fundamentally a spiritual endeavor. The commander is not merely a tactician but a spiritual leader who prepares the soldiers not just physically, but morally and psychologically. The deferments aren't simply about ensuring a soldier's focus; they are part of a divine system that acknowledges human attachments while prioritizing the communal, sacred mission. By having an anointed priest deliver these commands, Rambam underscores that the authority for warfare, and the very spirit of the army, emanates from a divine source, transforming military service into a form of sacred service. His very title, meshuach, links him to a consecrated role, implying that the entire enterprise of war, when conducted by Israel, is infused with divine purpose and sanctity.

Insight 3: The Tension Between Pragmatism and Absolute Spiritual Demand

The passage is replete with a profound tension between extreme pragmatic concessions made for soldiers at war and an equally extreme demand for absolute spiritual conviction and courage. On the one hand, Rambam explicitly permits actions that would otherwise be forbidden: "they are permitted to eat meat from animals that died without being ritually slaughtered or which were trefe, and the flesh of pigs and similar animals, if they become hungry and can only find these forbidden foods" (8:1). Similarly, the concession of the yefat toar (beautiful captive woman) is made: "Similarly, a soldier may engage in sexual relations with a woman while she is still a gentile if his natural inclination overcomes him" (8:2). These are stark pragmatic allowances, acknowledging the intense physical and emotional strains of war that push humans to their limits, offering a path for their "natural inclination" to be channeled within a (subsequently regulated) framework.

Yet, immediately following these allowances, and even preceding them, are passages demanding unwavering spiritual fortitude. The meshuach milchamah commands: "'Do not be faint-hearted. Do not be afraid. Do not panic and do not break ranks before them. God, your Lord, is the One accompanying you to do battle for you against your enemies to deliver you'" (7:3-4). This is followed by Rambam's own powerful interpretation of "Is there a man who is afraid or faint-hearted?" (7:15): it refers not just to physical cowardice, but to one "whose heart is not brave enough to stand in the throes of battle" because he worries about "his wife or children" or "his possessions." Such a person "violates a negative commandment" and is "responsible for the blood of the entire Jewish nation" if he is not valiant. Rambam even quotes Jeremiah 48:10: "'Cursed be he who does God's work deceitfully. Cursed be he who withholds his sword from blood.'" This is an uncompromising demand for total spiritual devotion and courage, casting fear as a profound sin with national consequences. The ultimate reward for fighting "with his entire heart, without fear, with the intention of sanctifying God's name alone" is "eternal life in the world to come" (7:15).

How do these seemingly contradictory forces coexist? The tension highlights that while human weakness is recognized and, at times, accommodated through pragmatic concessions (like the yefat toar or treif food), the core spiritual and moral demand for commitment, courage, and bitachon (trust in God) remains absolute. The concessions are not a lowering of the ideal, but a temporary, regulated acknowledgment of human frailty in extreme circumstances, always with the aim of drawing the individual back into the divine framework (e.g., the yefat toar must convert or be freed; the food is only in dire hunger). The ultimate goal of war, as a spiritual enterprise, necessitates a complete overcoming of self-interest and fear for the sake of God's Name. The officers with "iron axes" for deserters (7:15) are the ultimate symbol of this unforgiving demand for physical presence, while the spiritual condemnation for fear reinforces the demand for internal fortitude. The balance is not compromise, but a hierarchical system where the spiritual ideal ultimately governs the pragmatic allowance, pushing the individual towards a higher, albeit incredibly demanding, state of being.

Two Angles

The interpretation of "Is there a man who is afraid or faint-hearted?" (Deuteronomy 20:8) offers a classic divergence between commentators, particularly highlighting the difference between a more literal, practical reading and a more expansive, spiritual-ethical one.

Rashi's Practical Interpretation

Rashi, the quintessential exegete, often provides the p'shat (simple meaning) of the text, grounding it in straightforward, military practicality. When commenting on Deuteronomy 20:8, "Is there a man who is afraid or faint-hearted? Let him go home...", Rashi understands this phrase quite literally. For him, "afraid" refers to someone who is genuinely fearful of battle due to his inherent timid nature. This fear is a direct liability in warfare, as a physically terrified soldier is likely to flee, compromise the formation, and most importantly, "demoralize the hearts of his brethren like his own." Rashi's concern is primarily with the practical impact on military efficacy and morale. Sending such a person home is not a punishment, but a prudent tactical decision to prevent a breakdown in the army's cohesion and resolve. It's about maintaining a strong, unified fighting force. The deferment is a recognition of human psychological limitations, preventing potential harm to the collective.

Rambam's Expansive Interpretation

Rambam, however, takes this verse to a far deeper, more spiritual and ethical level. In Kings and Wars 7:15, he expands the definition of "afraid or faint-hearted" beyond mere physical cowardice. For Rambam, it refers to "a person whose heart is not brave enough to stand in the throes of battle" not necessarily because of physical fear, but because "He should not worry about his wife or children. On the contrary, he should wipe their memory from his heart, removing all thoughts from his mind except the war." This is a radical reinterpretation. The fear is not just of death, but of losing one's personal attachments or possessions.

Furthermore, Rambam states that such a person "violates a negative commandment" and "is responsible for the blood of the entire Jewish nation." He bolsters this with a powerful quote from Jeremiah 48:10: "'Cursed be he who does God's work deceitfully. Cursed be he who withholds his sword from blood.'" This elevates the act of fighting into a sacred duty, a form of Kiddush Hashem (sanctification of God's Name). For Rambam, the true soldier fights "for the sake of the oneness of God's Name," and any internal hesitation, any worry about personal well-being, is not just a tactical weakness but a spiritual failing. The deferment, in this light, is less about military pragmatism and more about purging the army of those whose spiritual commitment is insufficient for the sacred task, lest their lack of faith contaminate the collective resolve. The one who truly fights with "his entire heart, without fear, with the intention of sanctifying God's name alone," is promised "eternal life in the world to come." This isn't just about winning a battle; it's about achieving spiritual perfection through holy warfare.

Practice Implication

The Rambam's radical interpretation of "afraid or faint-hearted" and his uncompromising demand for spiritual conviction in battle has profound implications for our daily lives, even outside of a literal battlefield. We may not be facing armies with "iron axes," but we constantly confront personal "battles" – challenges to our integrity, tests of our faith, or moments demanding courage in the face of adversity.

Rambam's teaching here compels us to ask: What does it mean to "wipe their memory from his heart, removing all thoughts from his mind except the war" when facing our own spiritual or ethical struggles? It means that when we commit to a mitzvah, a moral stand, or a personal growth challenge, our commitment must be absolute. We cannot be "faint-hearted" by allowing anxieties about comfort, reputation, or personal loss to deter us. If we are called to speak truth to power, to stand up for justice, to maintain our spiritual practices amidst a demanding world, or to overcome a personal failing, Rambam challenges us to approach it with the same wholeheartedness and bitachon (trust in God) as a soldier fighting for the "oneness of God's Name."

The consequence for cowardice – "responsible for the blood of the entire Jewish nation" and "cursed be he who does God's work deceitfully" – is a stark reminder that our personal spiritual battles are rarely truly private. Our actions, our commitment (or lack thereof), can have ripple effects, demoralizing others or failing to bring about the intended sanctification of God's Name in the world. This framework encourages us to transcend self-concern and to see our personal struggles as part of a larger, collective effort to bring holiness and justice into the world. It pushes us to fight not just for our own benefit, but for the sake of a higher, divine purpose, promising that such dedication brings "no harm" and "merit for himself and his children forever," even "eternal life in the world to come." It’s a call to wholeheartedness in all our spiritual endeavors.

Chevruta Mini

1. The text presents both practical concessions (e.g., yefat toar, forbidden foods in hunger) and extreme spiritual demands (e.g., no fear, fight with all heart, officers with axes for deserters). How do we reconcile these two seemingly contradictory approaches in our personal lives when facing difficult ethical or spiritual challenges? When is pragmatism appropriate, and when is an uncompromising, absolute idealism required? What are the tradeoffs in choosing one over the other?
2. Rambam details the harsh consequences for those who shirk battle, including physical punishment and severe spiritual condemnation. Yet, the meshuach milchamah must also declare the options for deferment to individuals with houses, vineyards, or new wives. What does this tension reveal about the community's responsibility towards the individual's psychological state during war, even as it demands ultimate commitment and courage? How does a society balance individual well-being with collective imperative in times of crisis?

Takeaway

War, in Rambam's vision, is an intense crucible where personal fear is conquered by divine purpose, shaping not just national destiny but universal morality.