Ask the rabbi: Are coerced acts religiously meaningful?

The question of railroad work on Shabbat is not a technical halachic question but a broader political question regarding the nature of the Jewish state and the role of religion in the public sphere.

A LABORER carries reinforcement bars at the construction site of the high-speed railway line linking Jerusalem to Tel Aviv (photo credit: BAZ RATNER/REUTERS)
A LABORER carries reinforcement bars at the construction site of the high-speed railway line linking Jerusalem to Tel Aviv
(photo credit: BAZ RATNER/REUTERS)
Debates over so-called “religious coercion” laws have re-emerged following the recent coalition crisis over railroad repairs on Shabbat. Many argue that forcing secular public employees to cease work on Shabbat is a form of meaningless religious coercion that causes weekday traffic problems and increases hostility toward religion. Others retort that a national day of rest from non-urgent public works provides social benefits to all workers and further enhances the Jewish character of the state. Yet does Jewish law recognize the meaningfulness of such political coercion?
With talmudic law, there is definitely a strand that accepts the legal validity of actions performed under coercion. For example, many people unwillingly sell their possessions, against their true desires, because they need the money. Similarly, there may be religious acts in which we recognize that people desire the benefits of performing the act, even if they do not want to do it. A person who has committed an inadvertent sin is required by the Torah to willingly offer a sacrifice. The Talmud asserts that we may coerce him until he chooses to perform the ritual, which seems like a contradiction. In the words of the Talmud, “We beat him until he says, ‘I consent.” The Sages explain that we assert that he desires the atonement and therefore accept his forced sacrifice as a deliberate act.
Similarly, there are times when a religious court rules that a divorce agreement can be physically extracted from a recalcitrant husband. Once again, the Talmud assumes that this is a case in which we assume that he desires to follow the orders of the rabbis. Maimonides gave a psychological explanation for this ruling: When tempted by the evil inclination to disobey court orders, the force applied against them restores their good sense of judgment, upon which they willingly agree to the divorce. These may be cases in which society imposes its will on its recalcitrant citizens to do the right thing in order to achieve a “higher sense of freedom.”
Yet other scholars explain that the compelled divorce may be similar to another case in which the rabbis invalidate nuptials in which a woman was forced to agree to the marriage. We assert all marriages take place under rabbinic auspices and they have the power to nullify marriage (hafka’at kiddushin) to prevent moral wrongdoing.
Either way, two lessons emerge from these cases.
The first is that the Talmud believed in strong-arming religious behavior when the coerced person was interested in reaping the religious benefits for their behavior (e.g. atonement or following communal law). Yet as R. Meir Simcha of Dvinsk noted, compulsion would not be mandated on someone who had no desire to be a part of this religious system. Accordingly, there would be little value in compelling someone to bring a sin-offering sacrifice, for example, if they didn’t believe they needed atonement.
The second is that the Talmud believed in coercion of religious acts (like divorce) when it produced an important societal benefit. We can force people to do the right thing when it is necessary for the social order, which is also a religious value. As Rabbi Michael Nehorai has argued, their attitude in this respect might echo a sentiment asserted by the famous Enlightenment figure Moses Mendelssohn: “An action beneficial to the public does not cease to be beneficial, even if it is brought about by coercion, whereas a religious action is only religious to the degree to which it is performed voluntarily and with proper intent.”
This may also help us understand another talmudic passage that asserts that it is possible to coerce someone to perform commandments like returning a loan, or even rituals like eating in a sukka, even unto the point at which they’d die from the coercion. Compelling someone to return a loan provides remedy to monetary injustice. Yet what is accomplished by forcing an individual to eat in a sukka? If they do not desire to do a mitzva, then what religious goal has been accomplished? Elsewhere, the Talmud asserts that if someone was forced to eat matza, they have still fulfilled that mitzva. Yet as some medieval commentators assert, this would not be correct if they assert that they have no interest in this commandment, irrespective of whether someone succeeds in physically forcing the food into their mouth.
In recent years, Prof. Aaron Kirschenbaum and Rabbi Asher Weiss have suggested, following the opinion of Nahmanides, that in the case of the sukka, the Talmud was only referring to compelling someone who was leading a brazen rebellion against Jewish law. Such types of compulsion, however, would not make sense in a democratic society in which a significant percentage of people (let alone the majority) did not believe in this lifestyle and would further resent coercion to perform rituals. This would certainly be the case in contemporary Israel.
The question of railroad work on Shabbat, then, is not a technical halachic question but a broader political question regarding the nature of the Jewish state and the role of religion in the public sphere. Halacha recognizes that state coercion may bring about positive social and religious benefits, yet such political evaluations must be made with great care and wisdom. Unfortunately, religion-state matters in Israel are regularly determined in an ad hoc manner driven by a mix of principle, power and electoral considerations. Until Israel finds a proper framework for handling these disagreements, its citizens, sadly, will feel that power and politics are driving religious positions that could be better formulated by values and morals.
The writer, author of A Guide to the Complex: Contemporary Halakhic Debates, directs the Tikvah Overseas Students Institute and is a presidential scholar at Bar-Ilan University Law School.
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