Jewish tradition definitely thinks so, especially when it comes to matters of communal responsibility, like war. to a fascinating passage from Sifrei Devarim, a collection of early rabbinic legal interpretations on the Book of Deuteronomy. It's talking about how a soldier's fear can demoralize an entire army. The text states, "...and not melt the heart of his brothers as his own heart." (Devarim 20:8).
Rabbi Shimon takes this a step further. He says that if someone hears the words of the Kohen (priest) – words meant to address and reassure those who are fearful or have legitimate reasons to avoid battle – and that person still doesn't return home when they should, ultimately, everyone will suffer because of their presence. Their fear, their reluctance, will spread like a contagion. Fear is contagious. If someone beside you is panicking, aren't you more likely to feel anxious yourself? This isn't just about physical safety; it's about the collective spirit, the shared resolve that binds a community together, especially in times of crisis.
So, what measures were in place to prevent this? Deuteronomy 20:9 tells us, "And it shall be, when the officers finish speaking to the people, they shall appoint commanders at the head of the people," and at the rear of the people." But it doesn't stop there. The Sifrei Devarim adds a rather… forceful detail. It says that sentinels armed with iron staves are posted before and behind the soldiers, with the authority to "cripple" all who desire to flee.
Whoa. That's intense, isn't it?
Why such a drastic measure? Because, the text explains, "the beginning of defeat is flight." It even cites I Samuel 4:17 as proof: "Israel fled before the Philistines, and a great 'plague' overtook the people." Flight isn’t just a personal choice; it's a crack in the foundation of the entire army's morale, a plague that can spread and bring everyone down.
Now, here’s a crucial distinction. When does all this apply? The Sifrei Devarim clarifies: This applies to an optional war (milchemet reshut). But what about a mandatory war (milchemet mitzvah) – a war of self-defense, a war commanded by God? In that case, everyone goes. EVERYONE. Even a groom is pulled from his chamber, a bride from her bridal canopy. No exceptions.
Why the difference? In a mandatory war, the stakes are simply too high. The survival of the community is on the line. There's no room for individual reservations or fears. It’s an all-hands-on-deck situation.
This passage from Sifrei Devarim isn't just a historical account of ancient warfare. It's a powerful reminder of the interconnectedness of individuals within a community, especially in times of crisis. It forces us to confront difficult questions about individual rights versus collective responsibility, and the potential consequences of fear and inaction. It’s a sobering thought: are we willing to stand together, even when it's difficult, or will our individual anxieties undermine the strength of the whole?