“The Courage to Win” Parashat Ki Tetze 5786
The portion of Ki Tetze opens with an eerily familiar verse [Devarim 21:10]: “When (Ki) you go out to war against your enemies, and G-d delivers him into your hand, and you take his captives…” The Torah’s language seems straightforward until one looks more closely. We are given a series of events, better, a series of “if-then”s. What is contingent on what? What is the timeline? Is the Torah promising victory or is it describing a specific set of circumstances in which the laws that follow become relevant? The question matters because the next law is that of the “beautiful captive woman (eshet yefat to’ar)”. The Talmud in Kiddushin [21b] teaches that the Torah speaks here “only against the evil inclination,” regulating rather than endorsing an ugly reality[1]. The Meshech Chochmah[2], however, focuses on the conditions under which the law applies. The eshet yefat to’ar exists only after decisive victory, only after “G-d delivers him into your hand” and only when “you take his captives.” If the enemy retains leverage, if the aftermath includes something resembling a hostage exchange, then this law is not applicable. The Torah is not speaking about a ceasefire. It is speaking about victory. It is speaking about deterrence.
This reading changes the entire episode. Before the Torah can address a soldier’s private desires, it must define the national reality in which he lives. Has the enemy been defeated or has the war merely paused? Have we achieved victory or just renamed exhaustion as peace? Above, we translated the Hebrew word “Ki” as “When”. The Talmud in Tractate Rosh Hashanah [3a] teaches that this connective word actually has four meanings. It can mean “when”, but it can also mean “rather”, “if”, or “that”. Let’s revisit the verse when “ki” is translated as “if”. If you go out to war. If G-d delivers the enemy into your hand. If you take his captives. Only then does the Torah continue. Redemption is not a mood or a slogan. Redemption requires a world in which Israel’s enemies understand that war against Israel ends in their defeat.
The Or HaChaim HaKadosh[3] makes an even more surprising claim. He writes that taking the eshet yefat to’ar is not merely permitted but is a positive commandment. How can something so morally fraught be called a mitzvah? The Or HaChaim explains that if G-d gives something into Israel’s hand, refusing it may suggest contempt for a gift from Heaven. The Torah is not praising sexual appetite. It is teaching something about national posture. When G-d grants Israel victory, Israel must not pretend that victory is embarrassing. There is a false piety that recoils from responsibility while disguising itself as humility. Jewish history requires something else: the willingness to protect ourselves, to defeat our enemies, and to recognize that sometimes the gift G-d gives is not serenity but strength. Rabbi Yehuda Herzl Henkin[4], writing in “Chibah Yeteirah”, sharpens the point. The Torah permits us to go to war only “against your enemies.” War is not conquest for its own sake. It is directed only against those who have chosen enmity. That condition prevents deterrence from sliding into cruelty. A Jewish army is not sent to prove its strength. It is sent when strength must be proven because Jewish weakness has become someone else’s strategy.
This is precisely the challenge that keeps returning in our generation. A recent report disclosed that an unidentified Arab country, while making peace overtures toward Israel, was allegedly considering treating an agreement as a temporary expedient until conditions became more favourable for confrontation. The country’s identity is less important than the lesson. Many observers compared the idea to the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah. In 628 CE, Muhammad and the Quraysh tribe of Mecca signed a treaty agreeing to a ten-year truce after years of conflict. Two years later, after the treaty broke down amid accusations that allies of the Quraysh had violated its terms, Muhammad marched on Mecca with a large force and took control of the city with little resistance. The Treaty of Hudaybiyyah became part of Middle Eastern political vocabulary as an example of a temporary agreement abandoned when circumstances changed. Regardless of its historical accuracy, the strategic idea exists. Agreements can become pauses. Peace can become terrain. Diplomacy can become manoeuvre. Especially in the Middle East.
Israel – perhaps I should say “Israelis” – have always wanted something simple and reasonable. We have always wanted to be accepted by our neighbours. We have extended our hand in peace, signed agreements, withdrawn from territory, taken risks, and pursued prosperity and normalization. That desire is not weakness. It is one of the most Jewish things about the State of Israel, a nation that sanctifies life seeks peace. The problem begins when the desire for peace substitutes for deterrence. We convinced ourselves that prosperity would moderate hostility and that our enemies ultimately wanted the same future that we wanted. In hindsight, we imposed our values on people whose values were different from ours. We acted as though we lived in Northern Europe rather than in the Middle East. October 7 slapped us in the face. Machiavelli’s observation that it is safer to be feared than loved should make us uncomfortable, but it contains an enduring truth. A Jewish state that is loved and not feared may discover that love offers little protection. A Jewish state that is respected because aggression carries intolerable consequences creates the conditions for genuine peace.
This is where Ki Tetze becomes a portion about redemption. We pray constantly for G-d’s Presence to return to Zion, for Jerusalem to be rebuilt, and for peace to come. But redemption carries obligations. We want the lion to lie down with the lamb, yet until that day arrives the lamb requires teeth. The Torah’s sequence is exact. First, “when you go out to war against your enemies.” Then, “G-d delivers him into your hand.” Only afterward can the Torah legislate the aftermath. The Jewish People cannot build a redeemed society while our enemies believe that Jewish compassion is a tactical vulnerability. If we want redemption, we must be willing to do what redemption requires. That means defeating evil rather than merely managing it. It means accepting victory when G-d places it in our hands. Peace without deterrence is not peace. It is a beautifully written invitation to war.
The law of the eshet yefat to’ar remains uncomfortable, as it should. The Torah forces us to view war without romance. Even victory brings danger. The Torah therefore protects the captive woman and restrains the victor. That is the Jewish model of deterrence: strength bounded by law and power disciplined by covenant. The Meshech Chochmah teaches that these laws begin only after true victory. The Or HaChaim teaches that rejecting victory can itself be a failure. Rabbi Henkin teaches that war is justified only against genuine enemies. Together they form a sober theology of Jewish sovereignty. Israel must seek peace without confusing peace with approval. Israel must value life without empowering those who worship death. The first verse of Ki Tetze is therefore not only a military instruction but a spiritual demand: Go out against your enemies. Let G-d deliver them into your hand. Accept the victory. Govern it with Torah. Only then will the world understand that Jewish peace is not born from Jewish weakness. It is born when our enemies finally realize that the war is over.
Shabbat Shalom,
Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5786
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Rachel bat Malka, Iris bat Chana, Sheindel Devora bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Meir ben Drora, Golan ben Marcelle and Hodayah Emunah bat Shoshana Rachel.
[1] The first time I learned the topic in depth, I could not believe a Jew would do such a thing.
[2] Rabbi Meir Simcha HaKohen lived in Dvinsk (current day Daugavpils) in Latvia in the 19th century. He is most famous for his commentaries “Meshech Chochma” on the Torah and “Or Sameach” on the Rambam. The words “Meshech” and “Sameach” are acronyms of his name.
[3] Rabbi Chaim ben Atar, better known as the “Or HaChaim HaKadosh”, lived in Morocco and in Israel in the first half of the 17th century
[4] Rabbi Henkin came to Israel from the U.S. He was the Rabbi of the Beit Shean Valley and then along with his wife, Chana Henkin, founded the Nishmat Institute for Advanced Jewish Studies for Women.
