Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 10:5

Hook

It’s easy to think of spiritual growth as a linear ascent, a steady march towards perfection. But what if the very definition of “righteousness” hinges on a subtle, almost invisible transformation within, rather than a complete eradication of the undesirable? This passage from Tanya doesn't just describe different levels of spiritual attainment; it redefines what it means to conquer internal struggle, suggesting that true victory isn't about annihilation, but about a profound, alchemical conversion.

Context

To truly grasp the weight of Tanya's distinctions here, we need to understand its place within a long tradition of grappling with the human condition and divine service. The Tanya, penned by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi in the late 18th century, is a foundational text of Chabad Hasidism, aiming to make complex Kabbalistic and Hasidic concepts accessible to the average Jew. It builds upon centuries of Jewish thought, particularly the Mishnah and Talmud, which already categorize individuals based on their spiritual standing. For instance, the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot (5:10) lists various types of individuals, including the "quick to anger" and the "quick to forgive." However, Tanya, drawing heavily on the Lurianic Kabbalah and its intricate cosmic framework, introduces a much more nuanced psychological and metaphysical analysis. The very terms "tzadik" (righteous person), " Beinoni" (intermediate person), and "rasha" (wicked person) are deeply rooted in Talmudic discourse, but Tanya imbues them with a specific internal dynamic tied to the struggle between the divine soul and the animal soul, a core concept it elaborates extensively. The concept of "kelipah" (husks) and "sitra achara" (the other side) are also central to Kabbalistic thought, representing the forces of impurity and spiritual opposition that obscure the divine light. Tanya applies these cosmic forces to the individual’s internal landscape, framing the spiritual battle as a wrestling match within the human psyche. The specific verse from Deuteronomy 21:21, "And you shall root out the evil from within you," is a crucial anchor, but Tanya pushes its interpretation far beyond a simple act of expulsion, suggesting a more profound, transformative process is required.

Text Snapshot

"Behold, when a person fortifies his divine soul and wages war against his animal soul to such an extent that he expels and eradicates its evil from the left part—as is written, 'And you shall root out the evil from within you'—yet the evil is not actually converted to goodness, he is called 'incompletely righteous' or 'a righteous man who suffers.' That is to say, there still lingers in him a fragment of wickedness in the left part, except that it is subjugated and nullified by the good, because of the former’s minuteness. Hence he imagines that he has driven it out and it has quite disappeared. In truth, however, had all the evil in him entirely departed and disappeared, it would have been converted into actual goodness. The explanation of the matter is that 'a completely righteous man,' in whom the evil has been converted to goodness and who is consequently called 'a righteous man who prospers,' has completely divested himself of the filthy garments of evil. That is to say, he utterly despises the pleasures of this world, finding no enjoyment in human pleasures of merely gratifying the physical appetites instead of [seeking] the service of G–d, inasmuch as they are derived from and originate in the kelipah and sitra achara, for whatever is of the sitra achara is hated by the perfectly righteous man with an absolute hatred, by reason of his great love of G–d and of His holiness with profuse affection and delight and superlative devotion, as is stated above. For they are antithetical one to the other. Thus it is written, 'I hate them with the utmost hatred; I regard them as my own enemies. Search me, [L–rd,] and know my heart….' Hence, according to the abundance of the love toward G–d, so is the extent of the hatred toward the sitra achara and the utter contempt of evil, for contempt is as much the opposite of real love as is hatred. The 'incompletely righteous' is he who does not hate the sitra achara with an absolute hatred; therefore he does not also absolutely abhor evil. And as long as the hatred and scorn of evil are not absolute, there must remain some vestige of love and pleasure in it, and the fouled garments have not entirely and absolutely been shed; therefore the evil has not actually been converted to goodness, since it still has some hold in the filthy garments, except that it is nullified because of its minute quantity and is accounted as nothing. Therefore such a person is called a righteous man, in whom the evil is subjugated and surrendered to him. Accordingly, his love of G–d is also not perfect, with the result that he is called 'incompletely righteous.'"

(Sefaria URL: https://www.sefaria.org/Tanya%2C_Part_I%3B_Likkutei_Amarim_10%3A5)

Close Reading

Insight 1: The Alchemy of Evil Conversion

Tanya presents a radical reinterpretation of spiritual victory. It’s not simply about vanquishing the “animal soul” or the forces of evil, but about a process of conversion. The passage states that if evil is merely "expelled and eradicated... yet the evil is not actually converted to goodness," the person is an "incompletely righteous." This is a crucial distinction. It implies that true spiritual attainment involves an alchemical transformation where negative impulses and desires are not just suppressed, but transmuted into positive fuel for divine service. The “completely righteous” is defined by this conversion: "in whom the evil has been converted to goodness." This isn’t merely about not doing evil; it’s about actively transforming the potential for evil into a force for good. This suggests a more dynamic and integrated approach to spiritual growth, where the very struggles we face can, with the right inner work, become sources of strength and holiness.

The text elaborates on this by describing the "completely righteous man" as one who has "completely divested himself of the filthy garments of evil." This imagery is powerful. The "filthy garments" represent the allure and pleasures of the material world that originate from the kelipah and sitra achara. To shed these garments completely means to no longer find any enjoyment in them, especially when they detract from divine service. The passage contrasts this with the "incompletely righteous," who "does not hate the sitra achara with an absolute hatred; therefore he does not also absolutely abhor evil. And as long as the hatred and scorn of evil are not absolute, there must remain some vestige of love and pleasure in it." This highlights that a partial victory, where evil is merely subjugated, leaves a residue of attachment. True conversion, on the other hand, requires an absolute repudiation of the source of evil, which then allows for its transformation.

This concept of conversion is further illustrated by the analogy of "rooting out the evil." The verse from Deuteronomy 21:21 is invoked, but Tanya argues that simply removing something doesn't equate to transforming it. If the evil were truly gone, it would, by necessity, have been converted into goodness. This is because, in the Tanya’s worldview, all existence emanates from God, and even the forces of opposition are ultimately derived from divine energy, albeit in a "husks" or "other side" form. Therefore, when these energies are properly reoriented and purified, they can be reintegrated into holiness. This implies a deeply optimistic view of spiritual potential: even the most base inclinations can be repurposed for the loftiest goals. The challenge, then, is not to escape the material world or suppress our base desires entirely, but to understand their underlying divine spark and redirect it towards God.

Insight 2: The Nuance of "Subjugated" Evil

The passage meticulously distinguishes between evil that is merely "subjugated and nullified" and evil that is "converted to goodness." This is where the definition of the "incompletely righteous" man becomes particularly insightful. He has waged war against his animal soul "to such an extent that he expels and eradicates its evil... yet the evil is not actually converted to goodness." Instead, "there still lingers in him a fragment of wickedness... except that it is subjugated and nullified by the good, because of the former’s minuteness." This state is precarious. The individual believes he has won, that the evil has "quite disappeared," but in reality, it's merely suppressed, held in check by the dominance of his divine soul. This is the state of the "righteous man who suffers."

The critical point here is the nature of the subjugation. It’s not a transformation but a suppression. The evil hasn't been redeemed or purified; it's simply been rendered impotent by the overwhelming force of good. This leaves a lingering potential for resurgence. The text explains that this is because "as long as the hatred and scorn of evil are not absolute, there must remain some vestige of love and pleasure in it." This "vestige of love and pleasure" is the crucial crack in the armor. Even a tiny, almost imperceptible attachment to the forbidden or the impure means the evil hasn't been fully neutralized through conversion. It's like a weed that's been cut down but not uprooted; it can still sprout if conditions are right.

This understanding has profound implications for self-perception. The "incompletely righteous" individual might feel righteous because they are no longer actively acting on their negative impulses. They may even imagine they have eradicated them. However, Tanya cautions against this self-deception. The true measure of spiritual progress isn't the absence of outward sin, but the inner state of absolute detachment from the source of sin. When evil is merely subjugated, it means the individual is still fighting a defensive battle. The "filthy garments" have not been entirely shed, implying a residual connection, however tenuous, to the "kelipah." This explains why such a person is called "a righteous man who suffers" – the internal struggle, though won in terms of outward action, continues to exact a toll because the root of the problem, the attraction to evil, hasn't been fundamentally altered.

Insight 3: The Spectrum of Righteousness and "Men of Ascent"

Tanya doesn't present a simple binary of good and evil, or even just two types of righteous people. It acknowledges the vast spectrum of spiritual attainment. The "incompletely righteous" is further subdivided "into myriads of degrees in respect of the quality of the minute evil remaining." This is illustrated by the halakhic concept of batel b'shishim (nullified in sixty), where a small amount of non-kosher matter becomes insignificant when mixed with a much larger quantity of kosher matter. This analogy highlights that even a trace amount of remaining evil, when incredibly minuscule, can be rendered functionally irrelevant in terms of outward practice, yet it still signifies a difference in the quality of one's righteousness. This explains the Gemara's statement about "Eighteen thousand righteous men stand before the Holy One, blessed is He." These are likely the "incompletely righteous" in their various gradations.

However, the passage then introduces a superior category: "superior men" (benei aliyah, literally "men of ascent"). This term is linked to the Zohar and is explained as those who "convert darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness." This reiterates the concept of alchemical conversion. Their title signifies their ability to elevate even the most challenging spiritual states. This is not just about personal spiritual purity; it’s about a profound engagement with the world that transforms its very nature. The Zohar’s imagery of Rabbi Chiya hearing a voice asking who has "converted darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness" before approaching Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s heavenly abode emphasizes that this transformative power is a prerequisite for the highest spiritual realms.

Furthermore, the service of these "men of ascent" is described as being "for the sake of the Above—the ultimate of the highest degrees." This distinguishes their motivation from simply seeking personal spiritual solace or fulfilling a desire to connect with God to satisfy one's own soul's longing. Instead, their service is characterized by a selfless, altruistic love, aimed at uniting "the Holy One, blessed is He, and His Shechinah within those who dwell in the nethermost worlds." This is a mission of cosmic repair, of drawing divine presence into the lowest realms through their refined actions. The explanation from Raaya Mehemna likens this to a son who ingratiates himself with his parents out of pure love, willing to sacrifice himself for them. This selfless devotion, aimed at pleasing God and manifesting His presence everywhere, is the hallmark of the "superior man." The explanation involving "masculine" and "feminine" waters further deepens this, suggesting that through their refined acts of kindness (elevating "feminine waters"), they draw down divine flow and blessing ("masculine waters") into the world, fulfilling the 248 positive commandments in a manner that brings about divine unity.

Two Angles

Rashi's Focus on Halakhic Purity vs. Tanya's Emphasis on Internal Conversion

Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known as Rashi, the preeminent medieval commentator on the Torah and Talmud, often grounds his interpretations in the practical, halakhic implications of a verse. When Rashi encounters the concept of purity and impurity, his primary lens is typically the observable, ritualistic aspect of Jewish law. For instance, in analyzing laws of ritual impurity, Rashi focuses on the tangible presence of a contaminant and the prescribed methods for its removal or nullification. His approach is highly systematic and concerned with defining clear boundaries and procedures. If Rashi were to interpret the verse "And you shall root out the evil from within you," he would likely emphasize the action of removal. This would involve identifying specific behaviors or thoughts that are unequivocally considered "evil" and then outlining the concrete steps one must take to cease engaging in them. The emphasis would be on the outward manifestation of righteousness – the observance of commandments and the avoidance of prohibitions. The concept of "batel b'shishim," for example, as noted in the text's footnote, is a halakhic principle that Rashi would readily apply. It defines a state where an impurity is rendered insignificant due to its minute proportion in a mixture. For Rashi, a righteous person would strive to ensure that any "impure" elements within their character or actions are likewise reduced to such a negligible quantity that they cease to affect the overall purity of their service. The "incompletely righteous" might be someone who has significantly reduced these impure elements but hasn't achieved the absolute purity of the "completely righteous," where no trace of impurity is discernible. The focus remains on the observable outcome and the adherence to established principles of purification.

In stark contrast, Tanya, building on Hasidic and Kabbalistic thought, delves into the internal landscape of the individual. While Rashi might focus on the halakhic principle of nullification, Tanya emphasizes the alchemical conversion of the impure element itself. For Tanya, the "incompletely righteous" is not simply someone with a small amount of "evil" remaining; it's someone whose evil has not been fundamentally transformed. The "fragment of wickedness" might be nullified in terms of outward action (akin to batel b'shishim), but the internal "vestige of love and pleasure in it" remains. This is precisely what Tanya seeks to transmute. The "completely righteous" individual doesn't just suppress evil; they hate it with an "absolute hatred," such that its very essence is rendered abhorrent and, by extension, capable of being reoriented towards holiness. Tanya’s approach is psychological and metaphysical, concerned with the deepest motivations and the spiritual energies at play within the individual. The "filthy garments" are not just actions to be avoided, but an internal disposition to be shed, and the true victory is not merely the absence of sin, but the presence of absolute love for God that actively repels and converts all that is antithetical to Him.

Ramban's Ethical Idealism vs. Tanya's Kabbalistic Framework

Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, the Ramban (Nachmanides), a towering figure of medieval Spanish Jewry, often presents a more idealistic and philosophically-driven ethical framework. His commentaries, while deeply rooted in halakha, frequently explore the loftier spiritual aspirations and the inherent moral capacities of humanity. When considering the concept of righteousness, Ramban would likely emphasize the pursuit of an elevated moral character, striving towards perfection in ethical conduct and intellectual understanding of God. He would focus on emulating divine attributes as much as humanly possible, emphasizing virtues like compassion, justice, and truth. For Ramban, the "incompletely righteous" might be someone who has made significant progress in ethical living but has not yet fully realized the ideal of human perfection, perhaps still struggling with certain character flaws or lacking the profound intellectual grasp of divine truth that marks the highest spiritual attainment. The "completely righteous" would be someone who has achieved a near-perfect ethical character and a deep, philosophical understanding of God, living a life fully aligned with divine wisdom. The struggle would be framed in terms of moral development and the pursuit of intellectual and ethical excellence.

Tanya, however, situates this struggle within a complex Kabbalistic cosmology of divine souls, animal souls, kelipot, and cosmic emanations. The "evil" that the Tanya discusses isn't just moral failing; it's the force of the sitra achara, the "other side," which has its own distinct spiritual reality and origin in the divine realm, albeit as a necessary counterpart for creation. The "incompletely righteous" person, while exhibiting commendable outward behavior, still harbors a connection to these "filthy garments" of impurity. This connection is not merely a character flaw but a susceptibility to the energies of the sitra achara. The "completely righteous" person, on the other hand, has achieved a state where these energies are not just repelled but actively converted. This conversion is a profound reorientation of divine sparks that have become entangled in the "husks." The Ramban's idealism focuses on the emulation of God’s attributes through virtuous action and intellectual pursuit, whereas Tanya’s framework is more concerned with the cosmic battle for the divine sparks themselves, requiring a radical internal transformation that can repurpose the very forces of opposition. The "absolute hatred" for the sitra achara in Tanya is not just an ethical stance but a spiritual necessity for disentangling and elevating these divine sparks, a concept that goes beyond the ethical idealism typically found in Ramban's writings.

Practice Implication

This nuanced distinction between subjugating evil and converting it has a profound impact on how we approach personal growth and ethical decision-making, especially in situations where we feel we've "overcome" a negative habit or tendency.

Imagine someone who has struggled with anger. They've diligently practiced techniques to control their temper – deep breathing, counting to ten, walking away from frustrating situations. On the surface, they appear to have "rooted out" their anger. They no longer lash out, yell, or say hurtful things. According to Tanya, this person might be an "incompletely righteous" man, or "a righteous man who suffers." While they have successfully subjugated their anger, the underlying inclination, the "fragment of wickedness" or the "vestige of love and pleasure" in the intensity of that anger, might still linger. They may feel a sense of internal conflict, a lingering resentment, or a satisfaction in feeling "right" in their controlled response, which is a subtle form of self-gratification derived from the very struggle. The true victory, however, would be to convert that energy. This would mean understanding the root of the anger (perhaps a need for control, a feeling of powerlessness, or a misdirected passion) and channeling that underlying energy into something constructive. For instance, the passion that fueled their anger could be redirected into a fierce advocacy for justice, the desire for control could become a meticulous dedication to planning and organization for a good cause, or the feeling of powerlessness could transform into deep empathy and a desire to empower others. The "completely righteous" person, in this scenario, would not just suppress anger but would have achieved an internal state where the very energy that once manifested as destructive anger is now a potent force for good, devoid of any residual attachment to its negative expression. This implies that our spiritual practice shouldn't stop at mere abstinence or suppression, but must actively seek the transformation and repurposing of our deepest drives and inclinations, even those we believe we have conquered. The key is to ask ourselves: Have I merely pushed the "evil" aside, or have I truly transformed its energy into something holy?

Chevruta Mini

1. If the ultimate goal is the conversion of evil into goodness, does this imply that the "incompletely righteous" person, who has merely subjugated evil, is actually hindering their own spiritual progress by failing to engage with the deeper process of transformation, even if their outward actions are commendable?
2. The text suggests that the "incompletely righteous" person might imagine they have driven out evil because it's "minute." What is the spiritual danger in this self-deception, and how does it differ from the humility required to acknowledge the lingering "vestige of love and pleasure" in evil, which characterizes the "incompletely righteous" even when they are aware of it?

Takeaway

True spiritual mastery lies not in the eradication of our inner struggles, but in their alchemical conversion into forces of holiness.