What If Politicians Had to Keep Their Promises?

Moses spoke to the heads of the tribes of the Israelites, saying, “This is what G-d has commanded:” [Numbers 30:2]

Sometimes, it takes just one opening sentence to know that you are encountering something different.

The weekly portion of the Torah, Matot, is unique. Usually, the Torah begins with, “And G-d spoke to Moses, saying…” Here, Moses addresses the people without direct prompting from G-d. And the prophet isn’t speaking to the masses.

Samuel Ben Meir, later known by the Hebrew acronym Rashbam, was born into a dynasty of Torah. His grandfather was Shlomo Yitzhaki, or Rashi, whose finest students married into the family. Samuel, born in 1085, was a leader in the French Jewish community and spent much of his time fending off attacks on Judaism from the Catholic Church. Like his predecessors, the sage would often travel from town to town to meet Jews and bolster their faith.

Once, he arrived in the southeastern village of Anjou where he was greeted with a question on Matot. “According to the plain meaning, where do we find any Torah portion that begins like this?” he was asked.

The answer lies in the next verse.

If a man makes a vow to G-d or makes an oath to prohibit himself, he must not profane his word; he must fulfill whatever he said. [Numbers 30:3]

This commandment was addressed to the tribal leadership. Some commentators assert that the leaders were the first to receive Moses’ teaching. Others say the leadership, rather than Moses, was appointed to relay the commandment to their tribes.

Regardless, Moses’ message is plain: Honor your promise; keep your word. Throughout the 40 years in the desert, the tribal leadership often blocked or distorted G-d’s will — whether in the episode of the 12 spies, the demand for meat or the corruption of the Jews by the girls of Midian. In all these cases, the leaders used their authority to wreak tragedy on the Children of Israel.

Let’s face it: Nothing has changed. A plumber is paid to fix your toilet. A barber cuts your hair. A teacher is expected to teach. Politicians work by a different set of rules. They are not accountable for anything — whether making false promises before or after elections, changing positions on key issues, or recycling slogans that never meant anything in the first place.

“Lying is not a victimless crime. When politicians choose to lie, there are often people who suffer, and often an individual who suffers a great deal, often someone whose reputation is damaged, whose life is turned upside-down.” [Bill Adair, author of Beyond the Big Lie: The Epidemic of Political Lying, Why Republicans Do It More and How It Could Burn Down Democracy. Atria, 2024]

Other professionals could be sued in court for lying. Not the politician. He would simply dismiss the lie or false promise as a misunderstanding. Earlier this year, the Welsh parliament considered a bill that would make political lying a criminal offense, complete with police investigation. Not surprisingly, a parliamentary committee did not support this.

Moses, and certainly not G-d, didn’t feel this way. They insisted that man is responsible for what he says. His word is his bond. As the proverb goes, “When the word is in your mouth, you are its master. Once you utter it, you are its slave.”

Jacob Ben Asher, one of the greatest of medieval authorities, regards a vow as a lethal instrument. In his commentary, Baal Haturim, he writes that a liar is the equivalent of a killer. The sage asserts that children die as a result of dishonesty.

If politicians followed the Torah, their game would change forever. Most promises would be shelved before they were uttered. Attacks on opponents would be restricted to allegations that could be proved. Liars would be quickly weeded out of public office. Malice would largely disappear.

Ironically, the Torah’s commandment of keeping one’s word is not reflected in the Seven Commandments to the Children of Noah, the divine guide to gentiles. Perhaps the prohibition of lying or breaking a vow is embedded in the commandment to establish a judicial system. Perhaps, Moses’ words mark a higher level of piety.

But the prohibition of violating an oath is not limited to the tribal leaders of Israel. Every Jew is obligated. The difference is that the head of the family can annul the vows of a wife or daughter. The father or husband can prevent the tragedy of an unfulfilled vow — whether miscarriages or the death of a mother in childbirth — without the intervention of tribal leaders or rabbis. And G-d is glad to help.

But if her father hinders her on the day he hears, all her vows and her prohibitions that she has imposed upon herself will not be binding. G-d will forgive her because her father hindered her. [Numbers 30:6]

What if the father or husband ignores the vow? After all, the wife is an adult and should take care of her own business. But the Torah doesn’t operate that way. Instead, the father or husband becomes responsible for any violation by the daughter or wife. The women are treated benignly. Perhaps, the daughter or wife thought she could make good on her oath. Perhaps she forgot what she had said. In contrast, the men are seen as having caused the women to fall. The men knew better and cannot plead ignorance in avoiding responsibility or accountability. That lesson includes all of us and might explain everything.

We learn from here that a person who causes another to stumble takes his place for all punishments. [Rashi on Numbers 30:16]