Parashat Korach
June 10, 2021
Daniel Mond, High School Tanakh Teacher
All going to plan, this Sunday we will swear in a new coalition government in Israel. After an extended period of instability resulting in four elections in two years, we can hope and pray that this strange concatenation of bedfellows manage to successfully steer the country forward.
It is perhaps fitting, then, that this week’s parashah is Korach, the story of a contest for public leadership. In this week’s reading, the parashah’s eponymous protagonist leads the most overt challenge to Moshe’s leadership throughout the tribulations and peregrinations of Bnai Yisrael in the wilderness.
The Korach Rebellion is a fascinating study in leadership, populism and political power. It is also regarded by the Rabbis as one of two contrasting models of disputation — argument leshem shamayim — for the sake of heaven, and argument shelo leshem shamayim — not for the sake of heaven; the paradigm of the former is the argumentation of Hillel and Shammai, while the paradigm of the latter is the argumentation of Korach and his congregation. [Pirkei Avot]
What was so wrong in the way Korach asserted his claim? Korach’s actual challenge to Moshe reads: “You have too much for yourselves, for all the congregation they are all holy and Adonai is in their midst; and why you do raise yourselves above the community of Adonai?” At first blush the complaint of Korach seems to be on behalf of the people — “all the congregation” is holy. Notably, the whole community is, at this time, somewhat vulnerable to manipulation. They have just been told (in last week’s parashah as a response to the fiasco of the “12 spies”) that their guiding quest to establish an independent homeland will not happen during their lifetime. The people are frustrated, disgruntled, and ripe for the allure of a populist and demagogue. However, nowhere beyond Korach’s first public challenge to Moshe do we find any indication that Korach has a true interest in the wider community; his interest seems to be self-promotion, as does that of his cadre. The prelude to Korach’s statement emphasizes the tribal allegiances and leadership positions of the rebels to let us know that the rebels are motivated by tribal resentments and thwarted ambitions. (The commentators expand at some length on this theme.) In fact, Moshe’s response to Korach makes it clear that he understands Korach’s public pandering to the congregation to be a fig leaf (to mix biblical allusions) for his personal ambition. Korach is simply utilizing populist rhetoric to exploit a general malaise and individual grievances. Korach is really not aligned with the people he claims to be fighting for.
Rashi’s comment on a grammatical anomaly in the opening verse of the parashah fits in nicely with this portrayal. The parashah opens with the words “Vayikach Korach” — “And Korach took,” but, surprisingly, the verb “took” has no object! Rashi suggests that Korach is, himself, the object of the verb; “He took himself to one side to be separated from the community.” Korach is not steeped in the community, his first step was to separate himself from it! And Korach’s co-conspirators Datan and Aviram ensure the conflict is unproductive: they refuse to meet with Moshe and will not enter into any dialogue; they engage in Orwellian Newspeak where Egypt is the “Land of Milk and Honey”; and they accuse Moshe of propagating fake news to hoodwink (literally: “gouge out the eyes” of) the populace.
The contrasting model of argumentation to that of Korach and his followers are the disputes between Hillel and Shammai. What is it that was so praiseworthy about the latter? Two aspects stand out: the first is that the latter debate is in good faith; they mutually seek a common goal as they both debate with the aim of reaching the truth. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks puts it, the former is “argument for the sake of victory. In such a conflict, what is at stake is not truth but power . . .” But the opposite is true of the Hillel-Shammai paradigm, where no matter who comes out ahead in the argument, both sides win because they have moved closer to the truth. The second feature of the Hillel-Shammai disputations that recommends itself to our consideration is noted in the Talmud, viz. that the law is in accord with the School of Hillel “because they were kindly and modest, because they studied not only their rulings but also those of the School of Shammai, and because they taught the words of the School of Shammai before their own.” [Eiruvin 13b]
Israeli scholar and ideologue Yeshayahu Leibowitz has an interesting reading of a pasuk that pops up in next week’s parashah: “The sons of Korach did not die” [Bamidbar 26, 11]. Leibowitz takes this to mean that “Korachites exist to this very day” — indeed, throughout history. Certainly the challenges and dangers of demagoguery, the manipulative populism that appeals to tribalism and fans grievances, the refusal to engage in genuine dialogue, and the distortion of facts — these are problems familiar to us in our modern world. Korachism lives.
But, so too, does its antidote — Hillel/Shammai-ism — to seek out the truth in honest debate and to maintain respect for those with whom you differ while doing so. We need to see the people with whom we are disagreeing. In the words of Harvard philosopher Michael Sandel, who has spoken frequently about the antidote to populism, “we need to disentangle the legitimate grievance underlying the populist revolt . . . and reconnect with fundamental questions about equality, solidarity, community, what we share with one another as fellow citizens.”
It may sometimes seem an unreachable goal, but it is worth noting that ultimately the “sons of Korach” became upstanding, dedicated members of the community, and they were authors of lofty psalms which were recited together in the Temple. Unity and harmony is achievable. With patience and a respectful, mutual dedication to honest discussion we can ultimately stand in the temple courtyard and sing in unison.
As the new government embarks on its challenging path, let us wish it derech tzlachah (success) and hope that its arguments and debates will be leshem shamayim — for the sake of heaven.
The Korach Rebellion is a fascinating study in leadership, populism and political power. It is also regarded by the Rabbis as one of two contrasting models of disputation — argument leshem shamayim — for the sake of heaven, and argument shelo leshem shamayim — not for the sake of heaven; the paradigm of the former is the argumentation of Hillel and Shammai, while the paradigm of the latter is the argumentation of Korach and his congregation. [Pirkei Avot]
What was so wrong in the way Korach asserted his claim? Korach’s actual challenge to Moshe reads: “You have too much for yourselves, for all the congregation they are all holy and Adonai is in their midst; and why you do raise yourselves above the community of Adonai?” At first blush the complaint of Korach seems to be on behalf of the people — “all the congregation” is holy. Notably, the whole community is, at this time, somewhat vulnerable to manipulation. They have just been told (in last week’s parashah as a response to the fiasco of the “12 spies”) that their guiding quest to establish an independent homeland will not happen during their lifetime. The people are frustrated, disgruntled, and ripe for the allure of a populist and demagogue. However, nowhere beyond Korach’s first public challenge to Moshe do we find any indication that Korach has a true interest in the wider community; his interest seems to be self-promotion, as does that of his cadre. The prelude to Korach’s statement emphasizes the tribal allegiances and leadership positions of the rebels to let us know that the rebels are motivated by tribal resentments and thwarted ambitions. (The commentators expand at some length on this theme.) In fact, Moshe’s response to Korach makes it clear that he understands Korach’s public pandering to the congregation to be a fig leaf (to mix biblical allusions) for his personal ambition. Korach is simply utilizing populist rhetoric to exploit a general malaise and individual grievances. Korach is really not aligned with the people he claims to be fighting for.
Rashi’s comment on a grammatical anomaly in the opening verse of the parashah fits in nicely with this portrayal. The parashah opens with the words “Vayikach Korach” — “And Korach took,” but, surprisingly, the verb “took” has no object! Rashi suggests that Korach is, himself, the object of the verb; “He took himself to one side to be separated from the community.” Korach is not steeped in the community, his first step was to separate himself from it! And Korach’s co-conspirators Datan and Aviram ensure the conflict is unproductive: they refuse to meet with Moshe and will not enter into any dialogue; they engage in Orwellian Newspeak where Egypt is the “Land of Milk and Honey”; and they accuse Moshe of propagating fake news to hoodwink (literally: “gouge out the eyes” of) the populace.
The contrasting model of argumentation to that of Korach and his followers are the disputes between Hillel and Shammai. What is it that was so praiseworthy about the latter? Two aspects stand out: the first is that the latter debate is in good faith; they mutually seek a common goal as they both debate with the aim of reaching the truth. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks puts it, the former is “argument for the sake of victory. In such a conflict, what is at stake is not truth but power . . .” But the opposite is true of the Hillel-Shammai paradigm, where no matter who comes out ahead in the argument, both sides win because they have moved closer to the truth. The second feature of the Hillel-Shammai disputations that recommends itself to our consideration is noted in the Talmud, viz. that the law is in accord with the School of Hillel “because they were kindly and modest, because they studied not only their rulings but also those of the School of Shammai, and because they taught the words of the School of Shammai before their own.” [Eiruvin 13b]
Israeli scholar and ideologue Yeshayahu Leibowitz has an interesting reading of a pasuk that pops up in next week’s parashah: “The sons of Korach did not die” [Bamidbar 26, 11]. Leibowitz takes this to mean that “Korachites exist to this very day” — indeed, throughout history. Certainly the challenges and dangers of demagoguery, the manipulative populism that appeals to tribalism and fans grievances, the refusal to engage in genuine dialogue, and the distortion of facts — these are problems familiar to us in our modern world. Korachism lives.
But, so too, does its antidote — Hillel/Shammai-ism — to seek out the truth in honest debate and to maintain respect for those with whom you differ while doing so. We need to see the people with whom we are disagreeing. In the words of Harvard philosopher Michael Sandel, who has spoken frequently about the antidote to populism, “we need to disentangle the legitimate grievance underlying the populist revolt . . . and reconnect with fundamental questions about equality, solidarity, community, what we share with one another as fellow citizens.”
It may sometimes seem an unreachable goal, but it is worth noting that ultimately the “sons of Korach” became upstanding, dedicated members of the community, and they were authors of lofty psalms which were recited together in the Temple. Unity and harmony is achievable. With patience and a respectful, mutual dedication to honest discussion we can ultimately stand in the temple courtyard and sing in unison.
As the new government embarks on its challenging path, let us wish it derech tzlachah (success) and hope that its arguments and debates will be leshem shamayim — for the sake of heaven.