The Jewish Power Blog: Majority Rules
In the famous Talmudic story of “Achnai’s oven,” (Bab. Tal. Bava Metzia 59a-b), Rabbi Eliezer disputes the ruling of the majority of the rabbis on a technical legal issue. All of his arguments are rejected, so he calls in divine assistance, and performs several local miracles to prove his authority, including even a heavenly voice asserting that his view is correct. But his colleagues are unmoved, arguing that once God gave the Torah to humans, it was left totally up to them to interpret it without divine intervention; and the accepted method for deciding the correct interpretation is “majority rules” (i.e., a majority of the rabbis; no plebiscites in halacha). For his rebelliousness, Rabbi Eliezer is ostracized from the house of study, and his previous rulings cancelled, a form of public shaming.
(Ironic footnote: this Talmudic statement, quoting Rabbi Yirmiya, that the Torah commands us to follow the majority, is based on a part of a verse (Exodus 23:2) quoted out of context, whose actual meaning seems to be: “Do not follow a majority to judge unjustly.” Rabbi Yirmiya simply skips the first two and last two words…)
This story appears in the context of a discussion of the prohibition of public shaming. In his grief and anger, Rabbi Eliezer prays for divine revenge on Rabban Gamaliel, head of the community – and his prayer is answered in Rabban Gamaliel’s sudden death. We usually bring this story to teach about human (“democratic”) authority in the development of Jewish law; however, we usually skip the ending, whose message seems to be an assertion of the power of the disempowered: Rabbi Eliezer, cancelled, outcast, powerless, humiliated, lashes out at the leader who embodies the power that has set his fate – and, apparently with God’s help – destroys him.
On the one hand, the story teaches the power of human decision-making over miraculous interventions; but it also teaches that the simple principle of “follow the opinion of the majority” is not so simple, and comes with limitations. That is, the majority rules, but in doing so it has a responsibility to consider the human consequences of its rulings, to respect the rights, opinions, interests, and feelings of the minority, to seek accommodation and consensus as opposed to wielding the power of 51% as a blunt weapon.
Moreover, the story suggests that the ignored, humiliated, out-voted, cancelled minority has, in its powerlessness, the potential of tremendous destructive power. It would seem that that is why democratic organizations and states incorporate into their constitutions “checks and balances” to prevent just such episodes from occurring, with executives and judges to attenuate the simple, crude power of the majority, making sure that the basic consensus values of the collective – and its long-term interests – are brought into conversation with the majority’s wielding of its power.
In Israel today, the government is a coalition of a number of parties, none of which has anything even approaching majority support. This government (as most governments in the past) was assembled by an elaborate negotiation among all these parties to divide up power, perks, and budgets in such a way that each party can claim benefits for its supporters or its ideology – without there necessarily being any unifying set of beliefs or policies that are espoused by a majority of the voters. It is based on a coalition comprising 52% of the seats in the Knesset. Outspoken leaders of this government repeatedly declare that “they can pass any laws they like” because they were elected by a majority, clearly a problematic claim both in theory and in fact. Meanwhile, it has been 77 years since Israel’s declaration of independence committed to the enactment of a constitution within six months (!) So checks and balances, by us, are sort of ad hoc.
This “philosophy” of government seems to be creating not only an embittered, powerless minority, but even, perhaps, an embittered, powerless majority! Week after week, month after month, thousands of citizens devote hours and days to silent protest vigils and noisy demonstrations, futilely, it seems, trying to persuade the government that it can’t just “pass any law it likes,” even if “majority rules.” This powerlessness makes some people shout into megaphones, block traffic, paint strident protest posters, and fulminate incessantly on social media; and it makes others lapse into sadness and depression, tearfully (yes!) wondering what happened to the vision they thought they had grown up on, of a democratic Jewish state.
When Rabbi Eliezer considered his cancellation by the majority, the Talmud relates, as his tears flowed, one third of the year’s crop of olives, wheat, and barley in the whole land was ruined, the dough in the kneading troughs spoiled, and any object to which he directed his gaze was incinerated.
Beware the power of the powerless.
Still, nothing is simple. While of course we can criticize the leadership for its extreme and personally hurtful reaction to Rabbi Eliezer’s resistance to authority, perhaps we need to ask how Rabbi Eliezer could have behaved more productively – first in his misguided attempt to bring in miraculous reinforcements to overrule the majority, and then in his violent vengeance against Rabban Gamaliel.
It seems that democracy is a messy business that can’t be defined and guided by simple mechanical rules; without good will, and mutual respect, and a substrate of shared values, “things fall apart.”