Whatever one may think of Donald Trump and Binyamin Netanyahu, they both possess a valuable asset: they enjoy a personal following of supporters who both believe them and believe in them. They are by no means the first politicians to have this gift, which may be found on both sides of the political spectrum and is no respecter of race or gender (think Nelson Mandela, John F. Kennedy, Huey P. Long, Martin Luther King Jr., Eva Peron, Mahatma Gandhi).
Should we either believe them or believe in them? It can be difficult not to. Donald Trump’s air of assured confidence, Bibi Netanyahu’s mellifluous voice, John F. Kennedy’s energetic insistence—all have demanded our attention.
But Pirkei Avot counsels us to be cautious.Rabban
Gamliel, the son of Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi, warns us to be careful: politicians
who seek our support do so for their sakes, not ours, and do not stand up for
us when it is we who need help (Avot 2:3). This is problematic in a democratic
society, where this maxim presumably applies to all politicians and political
appointees to administrative functions and we therefore have to be equally wary
of everyone. We are also urged to pray for the welfare of the state, no matter
which politicians are in charge (per Rabbi Chanina segan HaKohanim at Avot 3:2).
In this instance, while the prayed-for objective remains the same in each case,
our thoughts and wishes will inevitably vary depending on whether the government
is one which we solidly support or one which we fervently wish to be rid of.
Avot is not
however the place to which we turn for guidance. In the Book of Psalms (Tehillim
146:3) we recite every morning the words אַל-תִּבְטְחוּ בִנְדִיבִים בְּבֶן-אָדָם, שֶׁאֵין לוֹ תְשׁוּעָה (“Put not your trust in
princes, nor in any human being since they have no means of saving”). This is
quite explicit. Much as we may legitimately listen to and accept the logic of
our leaders if it convinces us, we should go no further. We should not place our trust in them (the Malbim goes further: we must not do so). If we find ourselves doing so, we should be asking ourselves some sharp
questions about why this is so. One wonders how Rabbi Akiva, whose extraordinary
wisdom and Torah learning was legendary, grappled with this question before identifying
messianic qualities in the military leader Bar Kochba.
The most extraordinary
thing about “Put not your trust in princes” is that these words were penned by
a King, David, who would have known better than any sage what it feels like to
be trusted and how difficult it is to live with the unfulfilled expectations of
one’s subjects (see eg Berachot 3b). In this, David was displaying a remarkable
degree of honesty and humility—two qualities that Avot fully advocates. But,
while King David recognised the pressures of being believed and trusted, an
earlier leader of Israel was concerned with the exact opposite.
The narrative
of the Exodus of the Children of Israel, their redemption from slavery in Egypt
and their entry into the Promised Land begins when Moses, attracted by the Burning
Bush, encounters God. Moses, whom the Torah records as the epitome of humility,
asks three questions: Why me? What do I have to say? What if no-one believes
me? All three reflect the same thing: Moses’ awareness of his lack of charisma
and the absence of anything that could be construed as a personal following. In
any comparable setting, one may struggle to imagine God having the same
conversation with Donald Trump or Benyamin Netanyahu.
So, this
Pesach, when we sit down to the seder service and imagine that it is not our
forebears but ourselves who are coming out of Egypt, let us consider for a
moment that, while Moses was being tested with the trials of leadership, the
rest of us may have felt equally tested by the requirement to buy into his
leadership and believe in him. The magnitude of this test cannot be
underestimated. It is not until after the Children of Israel have crossed the
Reed Sea and seen the dead Egyptian charioteers with their own eyes that the
Torah records our belief in Moses (Shemot 14:31). Midrash records that four-fifths
of our number never made it out of Egypt at all. Was this a consequence of
their failure to accept Moses and his message?
Happy
Pesach, everyone, have a chag kasher vesame’ach!