There’s a Jewish catechism that runs along the following lines:
Do I have to tell the truth?
Yes.
Why do I have to tell the
truth?
Because there is a Torah
commandment to avoid falsehood (Shemot 23:7: “midvar sheker tirchak”).
Are we taught a reason for
this?
Yes.
What is that reason?
According to the oral Torah (Avot
1:18, per Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel), truth is one of the three things that
keeps the world running smoothly.
What are the other things that
keep the world running smoothly?
Peace and justice.
Are truth, peace and justice
equally important?
No. Peace is most important
because both truth and justice must be sacrificed if peace is to prevail.
So I don’t have to tell the
truth when it is conflict with peace or justice?
Yes—or is it no?
A good summary of the position can be found in Seymour
Rossel’s book on Avot for children, When a Jew Seeks Wisdom: the Sayings of
the Fathers:
“Sometimes, the Rabbis said, even
when we think that we are right in an argument, we should give in. As long as
the argument is not an important one, peace is more important than being right.
And very often hatred grows because we are too stubborn. It is better for us to
bend a little than to cause disunity and separation”.
This is reflected in various ways: the untruths uttered by Aharon
in aggadic literature which led to the making of peace between enemies (see commentaries
on Avot 1:12); permitting the telling of a lie in order to save a life, and complimenting
a bride on her wedding day.
Truth also gives way to justice. How so? The procedural rules governing the hearing of a din Torah prevent a witness from giving evidence, however true it may be, in the event that he is ineligible to testify or his evidence is not corroborated by another witness.
So truth is capped by the need to make peace and by the need
to demonstrate that justice is both done and seen to be done. But not everyone
agrees that truth should be suppressed. There is a respectable school of
opinion that maintains that every lie increases the damaging values of
falsehood in the world. This position has far-reaching consequences: it means,
for example, that a true narrative should not be embellished by the addition of
extra material in order to enhance its educational or aesthetic value.
According to R’ David Segal (the Taz), in his commentary on
the Torah (quoted in MiMa’ayonot Netzach on Avot), falsehoods should not
emanate from a person’s mouth even for the sake of peace. He cites the episode
in the Torah in which Yaakov leads his father Yitzchak to believe that he,
Yaakov, is in fact Eisav by speaking (at Bereshit 27:19) words that were
ambiguous, knowing which way Yitzchak would understand them: אָנֹכִי עֵשָׂו
בְּכֹרֶךָ (ani
Eisav bechorecha, which can be taken as either “I am Eisav your firstborn”
or “It’s me. Eisav is your firstborn”). So, says, the Taz, if you can’t tell
the whole truth, speak words that can be construed as the truth.
This is a lofty and
principled ideal, though it may require great presence of mind to live up to
it. When an enraged axeman comes running after your friend, points ahead and
asks: “did he go that way?” one’s natural instinct is to say “yes” if he didn’t
or “no” if he did—and it’s not easy to buy time in which to think up an ambiguous
answer that will satisfy the demands of truth while achieving the results of a
falsehood. The masters—or should it be mistresses—of this art were the priestesses
who ran the Delphic Oracle in Pythia and whose ambiguous responses to vital
questions form a significant and highly entertaining role in Ancient Greek
history and mythology.
In secular society we find an endorsement of the Taz in the notion of being “economical with the truth”, i.e. just telling as much of the truth without giving the whole picture. My favourite example, which may well be apocryphal, is the story told of King Edward VII who, when still only Prince of Wales, was presented with a crate of Welsh whisky by his loyal and admiring subjects. On sampling the beverage, His Royal Highness was unimpressed and determined not to let another drop pass his lips. However, he thanked the gift-givers and assured them of his gratitude, adding: “I shall always keep a crate of Welsh whisky in my cellar”.
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