The Political Consequences of Anger and Compassion in Parashat Korah

Korah 5776/9 July 2016

This week’s parashah opens with what looks like a theological challenge to the leadership of Moses and Aaron. About a year after the Exodus, an internal Jewish rebellion arose. The insurgent’s rhetoric fluctuated between radical egalitarianism and utopian anarchism. “It is too much for you!” insisted Korah, a Levite and first cousin of Moses, “For the entire assembly – all of them – are holy and Hashem is among them; why do you exalt yourselves over the congregation of Hashem?”^[1] Korah was a populist who claimed to speak for the people. He argued that all Israelites were holy: Thus, they did not need any priests or prophets or political pathways or ethical systems toward holiness.^[2] All people, he contended, should equally serve God without special representation by an elite class.

Korah and his allies paid a steep price for their revolt. Some were swallowed by the earth, about 250 were consumed by fire, and another 14,700 were killed by a plague. But if argument is supposed to be the essence of Judaism, what was so wrong with Korah and his peers’ challenge to religious conventions?

Despite the rebels’ populist rhetoric, the problem was political not theological. After the sin of the Golden Calf, the privilege of the high priests was taken from the firstborn of Israel and given to the only group that did not worship the idol: the Levites. All of the aggrieved parties in Korah’s rebellion – that is Korah, Dathan, Abiram, and On — were upset that they no longer held priestly duties. Even Levites like Korah, who still had the privilege of carrying the Tabernacle, were upset that Aaron had been selected as the Kohane HaGadol. According to Rashi, Korah envied his cousin, the son of his younger uncle, and he and his followers preyed on the publics’ fears and frustrations in order to pursue their own personal advancement. ^[3] 

Moses’s response to Korah’s political rebellion, which shifted between compassion and anger, represents two alternative models for addressing dissent within the Jewish community.

At his best, Moses was reflective. He listened to his opposition and turned to God for guidance. ^[4] He set what he knew would be a deadly challenge for Korah and his fellow rebels. He told them to offer incense alongside Aaron aware that they – like Nadav and Avihu before them – would die if they did so against God’s will. He then set out to dissuade them from their rebellion, even stalling until the morning to give them more time to change their minds. Influenced by his wife, the rebel On relented.^[5] But the other revolutionaries refused to give up. Dathan and Abiram, for example, accused Moses of being domineering while taking them FROM (not to) a “land of milk and honey” to “die in the wilderness.”^[6] 

Unable to end the rebellion, Moses became enraged. Why? During all the other times when the people doubted his leadership – when they were still in Egypt, when they worshipped the Golden Calf, when they were thirsty in the dessert, etc., he held his emotions in check. Scholars offer three explanations as to why he became so upset at this moment.

First, they argue, he was enraged because Dathan and Aviram attacked his authority as a king. According to Rav Soloveitchik’s interpretation of Maimonides, while a teacher or a parent can excuse his pupils or children from their obligations, a king cannot because the challenge is against the throne as a political institution rather than against an individual king.^[7] 

But others contend that the challenge went even further: Their revolt represented a broader challenge to God, the priesthood, Torah, and Halacha. According to this argument, Korah was suggesting that Halacha be treated as moral and religious teachings rather than as an entire system in and of itself. According to Midrash, Korah challenged Moses by asking why, if a room was full of Torah scrolls, would it need a mezuzah, or if a tallis were made entirely of the blue fabric, why would it need fringes. Because Korah and his followers’ rebellion was against the entire Jewish system as Moses was teaching it to the people of Israel, Moses put Korah and his followers to the test.

Another explanation for why Moses was so enraged was because the challenge offered by the rebels wasn’t, according to Pirkei Avot, “for the sake of heaven” but instead it was for self-aggrandizement. Conflicts, such as those between Hillel and Shammai, over honest and well-reasoned matters of interpretation represent a search for truth (and are considered for the sake of heaven), but the pursuit of personal gain does not qualify as legitimate grounds for such debate.^[8]

Even if Moses’s rage could be justified, it was not effective. He answered the rebellion with force – doom and gloom – mighty and terrible miracles from God. But that didn’t work. Having the earth swallow up those who refuted Halacha didn’t lead to greater observance or faith either in the short or long run. Instead, the very next day, all of the Israelites complained accusing Moses and Aaron of killing the “people of Hashem.”^[9] 

Moses’s response to Korah and his allies was much more effective when he began to enact positive miracles that saved lives, ended terror, and produced fruit.^[10] God spoke to Moses saying that he should remove himself from the assembly so that God might destroy them all. But Moses and Aaron, like Abraham before them, argued with God not to act so callously because there might be a righteous person among them. When God brought on a plague, Moses told Aaron to use incense to stop it. Then, on God’s advice, he gathered staffs from the heads of each of the twelve tribes, but it was only Aaron’s staff that bore fruit. Finally it was only after God promised gifts to Aaron, his Levite descendants, and the Kohanim, that the people of Israel’s fears began to abate.

Moses’s anger not only rendered him ineffectual, but also his lack of compassion might have played into his inability to enter the Promised Land. According to Midrash, when God refused to allow Moses into Eretz Israel, God used the same language that Korach had used to Moses and Moses had used back to him^[11]: “Why are you seeking more? It’s enough for you – Rav Lachem,”^[12] meaning why do you want to become Kohane Gadol when you are already a priest who carries the ark. Instead, in explaining why Moses would not get to see the Promised Land, God said, “Rav Lecha”^[13] meaning “it is enough for you to be the leader here. You don’t have to go to the Promised Land.”^[14]

So finally, what can we learn from this Parashah? I want to offer three possible contemporary applications:

First, it is difficult to hear the difference between those who challenge authority based on a desire for power and those who act for the sake of heaven. We no longer operate in a world where God will prove that we are right by swallowing up our enemies. We need a wide Jewish community that not only tolerates but actually encourages a broad range of political dissent rather than rushing to silence our enemies.

Second, we need to watch carefully for the Korachs in our own midst and do all that we can to defeat such demagogues. These are individuals who build off our fear and insecurity, who pretend to speak for the people but instead just seek to promote themselves at everyone else’s expense.

And finally, meeting political challenges with force neither builds confidence in one’s political leadership nor allows adversaries to come to terms with one another. Instead leaders need to prove themselves by creating opportunities for their various constituents to fulfill their own aspirations. Only through our compassion and understanding can we build a society where everyone can enter the Promised Land.

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Tags: Korah, Politics, Theology