The Jewish Power Blog: She Made Me Do It – Powerlessness and Responsibility

The familiar, chilling sentence “they made me do it” unites in a common claim the playground bully, the wife-beater, and the national leader unleashing a military campaign (“They have left us no choice but to…”).  In each case, the exercise of physical power against another is justified by the claim of powerlessness.  “I had no choice”  can be translated: “I was not free to choose any other course of action; I was powerless to act differently; and therefore, I am not responsible for any unfortunate results.”  The perpetrators of violent acts often see themselves as victims, and explain their actions as morally justified by the suffering they have undergone or expect to undergo.

The first recorded case of “s/he made me do it” is found in the account of God’s encounter with Adam and Eve in Eden, after their fateful snack: “Then God asked, ‘…Did you eat of the tree from which I had forbidden you to eat?’  The man said, ‘The woman You put at my side – she gave me of the tree, and I ate.'”   (Gen. 3:11-12)

Adam’s claim of powerlessness is ridiculous if not infuriating. as he not only states that he had no free will to exercise (“what could I do –  she gave it to me, so of course I had to eat it.”); but he implies that the fault is actually God’s (“the woman You put at my side…”).

The nuances of the claim of powerlessness play an extensive role in Jewish law.  For example, the Torah declares unequivocally that “He who fatally strikes a man shall be put to death.”  (Ex. 21:12)   Nevertheless, the law of the cities of refuge (Num. 35:9-34 and Deut. 19:1-13) makes a distinction between categories of killing, and provides a mechanism for applying it.  One who “is the enemy of another [and] lies in wait for him and sets upon him and strikes him a fatal blow” (Deut. 19:11) is put to death.  However, one who “goes with his neighbor into a grove to cut wood, [and] … the ax-head flies off the handle and strikes the other so that he dies,”  (Deut. 19:6) the perpetrator is not executed, but exiled to a city of refuge.  The perpetrator bears some responsibility, but the law clearly takes cognizance of his claim that the death resulted at least partly from factors beyond his power to control.  The Torah decrees (Num. 35:34) that due process is required: “the assembly shall decide” the degree of culpability.

So it seems there is a distinction between objective and subjective powerlessness – between actually being unable to act, and imagining (or claiming) being unable to act.  This tension finds important expression in modern jurisprudence – in the often fraught question of what role excuses play in determining the guilt of a perpetrator.  What factors should be considered as limiting the perpetrator’s power to act freely: childhood abuse?  dysfunctional family environment?  drugs?  mental illness?  extreme poverty?  ideology? misinformation?  And similarly, in the collective context, when does past oppression or future threat excuse present violence?  With what tools, what criteria, can we judge the perpetrator’s claim that “we had no choice”?

Consider the story of Abraham’s passing off Sarah as his sister as the family is travelling through Gerar (Gen. 20).  King Abimelech sends for Sarah, but then has a dream in which God accuses him of taking a married woman, and he protests his innocence, for both Abraham and Sarah had affirmed that they were siblings.  God accepts Abimelech’s claim and orders him to restore Sarah to Abraham (on pain of death).  When he complains to Abraham of the deception that almost led him to a terrible sin, Abraham answers, “I thought surely there is no fear of God in this place, and they will kill me because of my wife.”

Abimelech’s excuse for [almost] committing a terrible sin is that he was ignorant of the facts; he had been deceived, so couldn’t be said to be acting freely.  Abraham’s excuse for deceiving him is that he “had no choice,” for to travel in Gerar with a beautiful wife would have meant death.

Neither Avraham nor Abimelech expresses regret, or remorse, or even sympathy – both engage in self-justification.   It seems that in this episode, each actor sees himself as a victim, powerless in the face of the other’s misdeed: Abraham a victim of Gerarian rapacity, Abimelech a victim of Abraham’s deceit.  However, unlike Adam’s lame claim, this is an example of the reciprocal claims of powerlessness being accepted, as a valid and reasonable means of escaping from the burden of the past.  Both men re-understand their injury in the light of the other’s perceived powerlessness; each pays some kind of restitution; and thus they re-set their relationship to the status quo ante, and are able to face a better future together.

Excuses often get a bad rap.  We tend to see them as questionable attempts to avoid responsibility for our past actions.  But as we have seen, the evaluation of excuses can be complicated and nuanced; the line between subjective and objective powerlessness is often blurry.  In the case of Abraham and Abimelech, excuses – reframing past events to show that the perpetrator was not in full possession of the power, the freedom, the intention, or the knowledge that had been attributed to them – can be a tool for reconciliation, for escaping from a vicious cycle of mutual anger, resentment, and revenge.  In the deliberation over excuses we assert our power over the past and open an escape route from its power over us.