The Torah tells us, "When you besiege a city…you shall not destroy its trees" (Deuteronomy 20:19). Seems pretty straightforward, right? Protect the environment, even in wartime.
But then we read, "Assail the Midianites," implying a different set of rules. What's going on? That's what Bamidbar Rabbah 21 explores.
The Midrash dives into this tension, and it's fascinating. It uses another story from the Book of Kings to help us understand. King Yoram of Israel, along with Yehoshafat, the king of Judah, and the king of Edom, are on a campaign against Moab. They find themselves in a terrible predicament – no water!
Panic sets in. Yoram cries out, blaming God. But Yehoshafat, a righteous king, asks if there’s a prophet nearby. Someone mentions Elisha, the successor to Elijah. But here’s the interesting part: the text subtly points out Yoram's lack of respect for Elisha. Only Yehoshafat acknowledges the prophet's importance.
And get this – the Midrash highlights Yehoshafat's humility. When they go to see Elisha, Yehoshafat doesn’t present himself as a king in all his royal splendor. He goes as a humble, God-fearing man. Why? Some say it was because a decree had been issued that he would be killed with Ahab, and he was saved by his prayer. From that moment the verse began counting the reign of his son. That's why "king" is not written. It's a powerful image of a leader putting aside ego to seek guidance.
Elisha, initially reluctant to help Yoram, relents because of Yehoshafat’s presence. He calls for a musician, and as the music plays, the spirit of God comes upon him. Elisha performs a miracle, promising water in the desert. But then he delivers another command: "You shall smite every fortified city…and you will fell every good [tov] tree, stop all springs of water" (II Kings 3:19).
Wait a minute! Didn’t the Torah say not to destroy the trees? The kings question this, and Elisha responds that this rule applies to other nations, but Moab is different. They are "inconsequential and contemptible." As it says, "This is trivial in the eyes of the Lord; He will deliver Moav into your hand" (II Kings 3:18).
Here's where it gets really interesting. Elisha connects this command to another verse: "You shall not seek their peace or their welfare [tovatam]" (Deuteronomy 23:7). He interprets "tovatam," their welfare, as referring to their "good [tovot] trees."
So, what does this all mean? The Midrash isn’t necessarily advocating for wanton destruction. Instead, it's grappling with the complexities of war and the potential need to make exceptions to general rules. The Midianites, like the Moabites, are presented as exceptions. Perhaps their actions warranted a different approach, a harsher judgment.
The Bamidbar Rabbah doesn't give us easy answers. It presents a challenging case, forcing us to consider the nuances of ethical decision-making in difficult circumstances. It invites us to wrestle with the tension between universal principles and specific situations, reminding us that sometimes, even in the realm of sacred law, things aren’t always black and white. It is a reminder that leadership requires humility and a constant striving for discernment.