The Jewish Power Blog: Humble Power

Moses was raised in a royal household. He spent his life in a series of confrontations – with Pharaoh, with his own people, with God. He comes across as a fearless, savvy, and charismatic leader – a liberator, lawgiver, nation-builder, and military chief.  Moreover, several episodes in his life reveal his “short fuse:” he impulsively kills an Egyptian taskmaster (Ex. 2:12), smashes the tablets of the law (Ex. 32:19), and strikes the water-giving rock with his staff (Num. 20:11). And yet, the rabbis consistently referred to him as “Moses our teacher,” and considered humility to be his dominant personality trait, based on the verse: “Now Moses was a very humble man, more so than any other man on earth.” (Num. 12:3) Indeed, this dissonance already finds expression at the burning bush, when Moses responds to God’s “call:” “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and free the Israelites from Egypt?” (Ex. 3:11) Is this arrogance – talking back to God? Or humility – “Who am I?”

Ramban (1194-1270, Spain) learns from the context (Aaron and Miriam criticized Moses – and he kept his peace) that “humility” refers to the fact that Moses remained calm in the face of his siblings’ attack, and did not lash out or even respond. Ramban’s interpretation is based on the ideal of humility as forbearance that is pervasive in rabbinic literature; for example:

Mar, the son of Ravina, would conclude his daily prayer with: …To those who curse me let my soul be silent, and may my soul be like dust to all… (TB Berachot 17a; now included in the traditional daily liturgy).

It is possible to see in such texts a message of passivity, of non-resistance to evil, of self-abnegation. But is humility the same as submissiveness and lowliness? It seems that “humility” (also often referred to as modesty, or meekness) has been understood in different ways, its connotations often unclear or ambiguous. This well-known rabbinic text can help make things clearer:

Ben Zoma says: Who is mighty? He who conquers his passions (or: evil inclination), as it is written (Prov. 16:32): “Better to be forbearing than mighty, to have self-control than to conquer a city.” (Mishnah Avot 4:1)

That is, forbearance, even turning the other cheek, is not self-abnegation, an expression of powerlessness, but rather just the opposite: lashing out, seeking vengeance, being swept along by one’s instincts and passions – these are the signs of loss of self-control, of abdication of one’s power of agency. One who is truly mighty bites their tongue and takes responsibility for resolving the conflict or finding reparation/restoration for the injury.

Rabbi Moshe Haim Luzzatto (1707-46), a great Italian rabbinic scholar and polymath, is today best known for his still-popular treatise on personal ethics, Mesilat Yesharim (the way of the righteous). He defines humility thus:

Humility… means being fully cognizant of one’s failings, for no person, no matter how great they are, can be perfect, can be devoid of failings and weaknesses, whether on account of their natural abilities or their family or the experiences that have shaped them; and no person can be fully righteous and without sin. Consciousness of all these faults and deficiencies will prevent a person from behaving arrogantly, no matter how many good qualities and achievements they may have. (Chap. 22)

That is, the humble person does not think they are worthless; rather, they know their worth, but also their foibles and failings, and attempt to maintain an objective view of their own strengths and weaknesses. This attempt, coupled with the realization that everyone else is also characterized by a mixture of strengths and weaknesses, prevents one from seeing oneself – and acting – as superior, belittling others.

Or, as contemporary Israeli philosopher Daniel Statman puts it:

There is no ignorance or self-deception involved in modesty, as the modest person knows accurately what he is worth… a realistic high self-assessment is compatible with modesty, since modesty concerns one’s moral attitude and behavior towards others, and does not presuppose a low self-estimate. (Philosophical Quarterly 42:169 [1992] p. 437)

That is, humility represents an objective evaluation of one’s qualities, neither deprecating nor exaggerating them; moreover, it is expressed behaviorally by deliberately abstaining from belittling oneself (i.e., false modesty) or others (i.e., arrogance).

Notice, for example, that when Abraham confronts God over the plan to destroy Sodom and Gemorrah, he says: “Here I venture to speak to my Lord, I who am but dust and ashes: What if the fifty innocent should lack five?” (Gen. 18:27-8) Dust and ashes maybe, but not exactly submissive, as he seeks to hold God to account. And Moses, too, that paragon of humility, knows how to keep silent (Num. 12), or even prostrates himself before his challengers (Num. 14:5, 16:4); but is clearly fully aware of his own powers – and of the rightness of his position. The humble person may speak softly and keep a low profile, but they are not submissive, and do not abdicate their power of agency.

What does all this have to do with our present predicament? Can this account of the virtue of individual humility be transposed into moral guidance for a nation? Stay tuned.