In our Parasha Pinchas, we read about the census that was taken before the Israelites entered the land of Canaan and the distribution of the estates to the tribes of Israel. In this census, the families in each tribe are detailed by the exact number of family members of the tribes and added up to a total sum which is summarized at the end of the description of the census.
That is not told in the Torah explicitly and implied only in this census. Our sages noticed an interesting detail that emerges from the breakdown of the families in this census. Each family was named after the ancestor of the family mentioned in the book of Genesis, in the description of the descent of our father Jacob and his family into Egypt. But eleven of those mentioned in Genesis are not mentioned in this census. Where did the families of those people go?
Commentators have offered various suggestions for solving the mystery. Some have suggested that these ancestors had no descendants, or that their families were small and included in other families. But Rashi brings from the Talmud a horrifying story.
Rashi says that the families missing from this census were killed in a civil war. This war broke out after the death of Aaron the priest, when the Canaanites started a war against the people of Israel. For fear of war, there were some Israelites who chose to return to Egypt and not continue the journey to the land of Canaan. On the other hand, other groups in the nation saw this as the beginning of disintegration, which would lead to the failure of the vision of the establishment of the Jewish state in the land of Canaan – the vision for which the Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years. The tension between the two groups grew and turned into a fratricidal war at the end of which eleven families were missing from the people of Israel – on both sides. This horrific story calls us to look at the paradoxical concept, almost an oxymoron – “fraternal war”.
All war is bad. Any bloodshed is terrible. History is full of wars, those that seemed to be justified and those that had no justice in them, and all of them made so many people miserable – dead, wounded, refugees, missing, families broken up, children dying of hunger. There is no good war. But a civil war between brothers is much worse. If it is possible to understand the harsh reality of a war between two countries as a result of arguments over the control of territories or resources; It is very difficult to understand how brothers, members of the same nation, reach a terrible state of war with each other.
How do relationships between family members differ from relationships between strangers? Relations between strangers should be based on justice, fairness and even empathy and compassion. But relationships between family members are supposed to be based on mutual identification as one body, which gives no room for struggle. Can we understand a man whose right hand will fight with his left hand? If such a thing can happen, even if one of the sides wins – will there be a winner in such a war or will there only be losers?
When a nation degenerates into fratricidal war, this first of all points to the dissolution of the element that connects the parts of the nation. In every people and in every period, there were different groups that believed in different values, led different lifestyles and had different interests. However, when there is a connecting national element, it does not allow the different groups to reach a state of war. We can always argue, compete and even confront, but if we feel that we are “brothers” we cannot degenerate into a state of internal war.
The first fratricidal war in the history of the Jewish people, places a sign in front of us: different opinions – yes; Fraternal war – no! We must guard unity – and not necessarily uniformity. This is the secret of our existence and therein lies the key to success and prosperity, both physical and spiritual.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Refael Cohen