Compromise is overrated: Give war a chance

Back when my outstanding son the doctor was still my outstanding son the (how shall I say) not yet motivated, he got married to my outstanding daughter-in-law the doctor, who succeeded where we had failed in providing him, by example, the necessary focus and incentives. At the Shabbat before the wedding, known among Ashkenazim as the aufruf, because the future groom is called to the Torah, we were fortunate to have a well-known and brilliant rabbi speak to the assembled guests about successful Jewish marriages and how to maintain them.

As is my custom when rabbis speak, I don’t remember what he said, but I do recall that afterwards, my son, having been raised to be polite and gracious (we succeeded as parents in some things), approached the rabbi, thanked him, and said, “We are already putting your words into practice. We went shopping for a sofa. She wanted one color. I wanted another. So we compromised.”

The rabbi looked at him, sadly shook his head, and responded, “Did you hear me say the word ‘compromise’? Compromise means no one is happy and no one has achieved his or her goal. Surrender. Capitulate. Acquiesce. Concede. Give in. Do you care what color the couch is, especially if accepting another color couch will make your wife happy? Would you really rather have a black couch than a happy wife?”

It is hard to deny the appeal of the compromise, in which the dispute is terminated and neither party loses entirely. On the other hand, there is always a risk that the smoldering embers of a dispute that is ended without a decisive resolution will periodically erupt in conflagration. About two millennia ago, the Talmud twisted itself into knots trying to weigh the benefits of compromise against its detriments.  The context was always litigation. In war, compromise did not exist. You offered the enemy the ability to surrender unconditionally and then you beat the ones who declined the offer senseless.

In litigation, however, even though the appeal of a harmonious resolution sometimes prevailed, there was a body of opinion that preferred strict justice, applying the law as written, without reference to the status or feelings of the litigants. Rabbi Eliezer, the son of Rabbi Yossi Haglili, asserted that one who compromises in judgment commits a sin, based on a somewhat ambiguous verse in Psalms, because God determined the laws, and we have no authority to dilute them just to avoid any discord or unpleasantness that might result.

Moses and his brother Aaron are depicted as polar opposites in this matter. The standard of Moses, the lawgiver, was “yikov ha-din et ha-har,” which, paraphrased, means “let justice be done, though the heavens fall.” But Aaron was “ohev shalom ve-rodef shalom,” a lover and pursuer of peace, who, anecdotally, would shuttle between a feuding couple, telling white lies to each of them in order to promote a reconciliation.

On the other hand, citing the prophet Zechariah for the proposition that God loves truth, justice, and peace, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Karcha concluded that only compromise results in the application of all three. Confronted by the question as to whether strict justice inevitably militates against peace, the Talmud describes methods by which King David achieved both, including reimbursing, out of his own pocket, the losing party.

In a somewhat amusing dialogue on compromising the truth, Hillel and Shammai argue whether one is permitted to tell a lie by praising a bride who is not attractive. (Spoiler alert: one is, but the dispute is rendered moot by the fact that all brides are beautiful.) In the paradigmatic example of how compromise might result in a miscarriage of justice, the prophet recounts the story of two women of ill repute, both of whom gave birth on the same day in the same house. One of the babies dies, and its mother exchanges her dead baby for the living one resting near its sleeping mother. When she awakes, the second mother sees that the baby sleeping beside her is both dead and not hers. Each mother claims that the surviving child is hers. They come before King Solomon for judgment.

He calls for his sword and commands that the baby be cut in half and divided among the litigants. This ostensibly fair solution is accepted by the kidnapper, but rejected by the mother whose living baby was stolen. The former expresses satisfaction that neither one will have the child; the latter would rather lose her baby than see it killed. Solomon awards the child to the woman who demonstrated her maternity with compassion.

The messages: Solomon was wise. There is no love like that of a mother for her child. And compromise stinks.

Despite its superficial appeal, compromise rarely yields lasting results. This is especially true when it comes to wars.

In a play on his first two initials, Ulysses Simpson Grant was known as “Unconditional Surrender” Grant. The United States (same initials) went to war after a series of compromises on slavery yielded only ephemeral peace, and achieved unparalleled, enduring success when Lincoln would accept nothing but total victory. Germany and Japan were defeated and devastated in World War II, surrendered unconditionally, and emerged as free and powerful partners.

The right side (from my perspective) doesn’t always win. The Taliban were victorious in Afghanistan (but only after a spurious compromise was reached) and Russia took Crimea. If neither side prevails in Ukraine, any peace will be evanescent.

I hate to be this transparent, but you all know where I am going. Israel cannot afford to lose a single war, but it is never permitted to win a decisive victory. As soon as Israel gets the upper hand, the world intervenes to demand compromise. The worst that Israel’s adversaries can expect is a draw, a stalemate — and that is the best Israel is allowed to achieve. As a result, there is never a clear cut triumph in which terms can be dictated by the victor. The embers of war continue to smolder until they again burst into flame.

Compromise today means more war tomorrow. Time is not on Israel’s side. And the suffering of the Palestinians will not end, as it would, albeit painfully, with a decisive defeat and resulting peace and reconstruction.

Both Israel and the Palestinians deserve better. Is there anyone who believes that a compromise with Hamas or the other combatants, or even the PA, will bring about a lasting peace? From the time of Mohammed, Muslims have viewed all armistices – hudna – as temporary measures, to be endured only until victory is possible. That victory, in the present situation, would mean the end of Israel and the death of its inhabitants. Victory for Israel, on the other hand, like the victory of the Allies in World War II, would mean, in my view, a chance for meaningful peace, prosperity, and progress for all sides.

I grew up in the 1960s and marched with my equally half-witted playmates, chanting “Give peace a chance.” Six decades later, I have come to the conclusion that it is time to “Give war a chance.” But it must be a war in which right is permitted to prevail and to impose a just peace. More compromise means more war and more death.

It needs to stop. Only a total victory and unconditional surrender will make it stop.