The story of the daughters of Tzelofḥad challenges that assumption in a profound way.
It all starts in Numbers 27:1: “The daughters of Tzelofḥad, son of Ḥefer, son of Gilad, son of Makhir, son of Manasseh, from the families of Manasseh son of Joseph, approached; and these are the names of his daughters: Maḥla, Noa, Ḥogla, Milka, and Tirtza." These five sisters step forward, and their story, as interpreted by the Rabbis, becomes a powerful testament to female strength and righteousness in a time of widespread failing.
Bamidbar Rabbah, the rabbinic commentary on the Book of Numbers, sees a clear pattern here. "The daughters of Tzelofḥad…approached" because, as Bamidbar Rabbah tells us, "that generation, the women would repair what the men would breach." What does that mean?
Think about the story of the Golden Calf in Exodus. Aaron tells the people, "Remove the gold rings that are in the ears of your wives" (Exodus 32:2), hoping to slow down the process. But, according to Bamidbar Rabbah, the women refused to give up their jewelry! They rebuked their husbands. The men ultimately succumbed and "removed the gold rings which were in their ears" (Exodus 32:3), but the women? They didn't participate in the sin. Their refusal becomes an act of resistance.
Then there’s the incident with the spies. Remember how the spies spread slander about the Land of Israel, causing the people to despair? "They returned and caused the entire congregation to complain against him, [to disseminate slander about the land]" (Numbers 14:36). The men declared, “We will not be able to ascend” (Numbers 13:31). But again, the women were different. Bamidbar Rabbah points out that earlier in Numbers, it is written, “No man was left of them, except Caleb son of Yefuneh, [and Joshua son of Nun]” (Numbers 26:65) – "man but not woman." The men, disheartened, didn't want to enter the land. But the women? They approached, seeking an inheritance, a stake in the Promised Land.
This is why, Bamidbar Rabbah suggests, the story of Tzelofḥad's daughters is placed right after the account of the death of the generation of the wilderness. It's a deliberate juxtaposition. Where the men failed, the women stepped up. The men breached, and the women repaired.
So, what's the takeaway? The story of Tzelofḥad's daughters, as interpreted by the Sages, isn't just a legal case about inheritance. It's a powerful reminder that even in the face of collective failure, individual righteousness, especially the quiet strength and unwavering faith of women, can pave the way for a better future. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, where else in the Torah are we missing the subtle but vital contributions of women?