Controversy

 

Controversy as a negative phenomenon

 

     The phenomenon of controversy plays a central role in Judaism, primarily in the realm of Halakha. We must, first of all, clarify whether controversy is viewed as a positive or a negative phenomenon. At first glance, Rambam’s approach seems most reasonable:

 

As for what [the Sages] said: "With the increase in the pupils of Hillel and Shammai who had not sufficiently 'ministered to the Sages' controversy increased in Israel" – the meaning of this is very clear. For two people with equal understanding, [power of] analysis, and knowledge of the rules of argumentation, will never disagree about that which is learned through one of those rules. And if there are disagreements, they will be few, as we find that Shammai and Hillel only disagreed about a number of halakhot. For in their manner of argumentation regarding all that was derived through one of those rules, they were very similar to each other. The correct rules used by one were also used by the other. But when the study of their disciples diminished and their manner of argumentation weakened in comparison to Shammai and Hillel their masters, controversy erupted among them in the course of their discussions regarding many matters. For each of them judged matters in accordance with his own reasoning and in accordance with the principles known to him. They are not to be blamed for this, for we cannot force two people who are arguing to conduct their argument on the level of reasoning of Yehoshua and Pinchas. (Rambam, Introduction to his Commentary to the Mishna)

 

Rambam makes several points here: 1) Controversy is a negative phenomenon. In an ideal world there would be universal agreement on the correct position. 2) Under normal conditions, there should be no disagreements, for two intelligent people using the same principles of analysis and argumentation must, of necessity, reach the same conclusions. 3) The pupils of Hillel and Shammai should not be blamed for having forgotten laws or for having become confused about them, for the appearance of controversy was a natural result of the decline in intellectual level among the Sages. (This point is more strongly emphasized in the continuation of the passage.)

 

     Even if we agree with Rambam on the first point, there is still room to disagree with him on the second point: It is entirely possible to view controversy as undesirable, but at the same time to recognize that it is inevitable. Rambam was a sworn rationalist, who glorified the intellect's capacity to solve all problems. Less rationalistic approaches recognized the limits of human reason. Ramban, for example, writes:

 

Anybody who studies our Talmud knows that regarding the disagreements among the commentators there are no absolute proofs, and generally there are no irrefutable objections. For this branch of wisdom does not allow for clear demonstrations as does mathematics. (Ramban, Introduction to his Milchamot Hashem)

 

Ramban disagrees with Rambam, arguing that controversy is natural, because in the legal-halakhic realm incontrovertible proofs do not exist, and human reason does not always lead to the same, uniform conclusion. As was stated above, this does not necessarily mean that Ramban viewed controversy as desirable.

 

     There are, however, those who viewed controversy as a positive phenomenon at one level or another. We find an example of this approach in the words of Rabbi Yechiel Epstein, author of the Arukh ha-Shulchan:

 

On the contrary, this is the glory of our pure and holy Torah. The entire Torah is called a song, and the splendor of a song is when there are different voices; this is the essence of harmony. Anyone who sails the sea of the Talmud will discern the harmony rising from all the different voices. (Introduction to Arukh ha-Shulchan, Choshen Misphat)

 

     How can controversy be viewed as a desirable phenomenon? There are a number of different ways to explain the value and significance of controversy as a desirable phenomenon.

 

multiple opinions help clarify the truth

 

     The Mishna in Avot states:

 

Every controversy that is for the sake of Heaven shall in the end endure; but every controversy that is not for the sake of Heaven shall in the end not endure. (Avot 5:17)

 

The commentators had difficulty explaining this Mishna: Why should a controversy that is for the sake of Heaven in the end endure? How is this a blessing? When there is controversy, surely one side must be right and the other wrong. Would it not have been better then to say about a controversy that is for the sake of heaven, not that the controversy will endure forever, but that ultimately the truth will come to light? 

 

     The commentators proposed various answers to this question. We shall cite here the answer suggested by Rabbi Shmuel di Ozeda, a disciple of the Ari z"l, and author of Midrash Shmuel (in the name of the work, Lev Avot):

 

It is well known that an argument involving contradictory positions in analysis and study causes a matter to come to light, and the truth to become known and clarified, free of any doubt whatsoever. Therefore, doubts, comments, and objections lead the way to the attainment of the desired goal. The philosopher himself said that doubts make people wise. It is fitting for anyone seeking knowledge of the truth in every book and branch of wisdom to keep this idea in mind. It is known that doubts will not be resolved unless there are opposing opinions, asking and answering, so that the matter will come to light. This idea has escaped the eyes of those who scoff at what our Sages of blessed memory said, that if the entire Sanhedrin sentenced a certain person to the death penalty, he is not executed, but if a minority exonerated him and a majority found him guilty, he is executed. While this is required by a Scriptural decree, as was expounded in the Gemara, the rationale behind it that I heard in the name of the Rambam is very correct. This is precisely what I have written, to teach us that when there is no contrary position based upon objections and arguments, the matter cannot come to light, and it is possible that they are all mistaken[1] … Therefore, the Tanna said that a controversy that is for the sake of Heaven … the parties to the controversy will certainly endure and be mentioned together. Since they come to know the clarified truth, both sides of the controversy must be valued, and along with the controversy itself, the truth will become clarified. It is therefore right that all the parties to the controversy endure and be mentioned together, even though the truth is with only one of them. (Midrash Shmuel, Avot 5:17)

 

     According to Midrash Shmuel, a plurality of opinions is necessary and essential because of our uncertainty. Nobody can be sure that his own position is correct, and only through a confrontation between the differing positions will the singular truth come to light.[2] A similar conception is what, in the aftermath of the Yom Kippur War, gave birth to the intelligence body responsible for providing an "opposing assessment," one that is contrary to the prevailing opinion of the intelligence agencies. Rabbi Baruch Epstein (Mekor Barukh, pt. IV, p. 1780) relates that at the Congress of Berlin the German chancellor Otto von Bismarck complained to the British prime minister Benjamin Disraeli, an apostate Jew, about the annoying parliamentary debates. Disraeli responded that in his opinion a culture of debate and dispute is essential for the clarification of the truth, and if the members of the British parliament would not argue with him, he would pay them to do so. When Bismarck asked him where he had acquired this idea, Disraeli answered that he learned it in his childhood, in the period when he studied Talmud.

 

     The author of Midrash Shmuel agrees that in every controversy, one opinion is correct, and the other is mistaken. He is, however, more skeptical than Rambam regarding man's capacity to clarify the truth. According to him, the process of clarifying the truth is complex and complicated and liable to lead to error. It is, therefore, recommended that conflicting opinions always be proposed, in order to help clarify which position is right and which is wrong. In contrast to Rambam, who viewed the clarification of the truth as a simple and straightforward rational process, Midrash Shmuel sees it as a complex and complicated procedure that can greatly be helped by a developed culture of controversy and debate.

 

complex truth

 

     There is a well-known talmudic statement regarding the controversies between the schools of Hillel and Shammai:

 

The school of Shammai and the school of Hillel disagreed for three years. This side would say: The Halakha is in accordance with us, and the other side would say: The Halakha is in accordance with us. A heavenly voice went forth, declaring: Both this and that are the words of the living God, but Halakha is in accordance with the school of Hillel. (Eruvin 13b)

 

What is the meaning of this dictum? How can two conflicting opinions both be "the words of the living God"? This expression has also been explained in many ways. We shall bring here the explanation proposed by Rashi:

 

When two Amoraim disagree about the law or about whether something is forbidden or permitted, and each one says, "This seems right to me," nobody is lying. Each one states his own reasoning: this one offers a reason to allow it, and the other one gives a reason to forbid it; this one compares one matter to another in a certain manner, and the other one draws the comparison differently. And it can be said: "Both this and that are the words of the living God." Sometimes this argument applies, and at other times the other argument applies, for the arguments reverse themselves in accordance with slight changes in circumstances. (Rashi, Ketuvot, 57a)

 

Indeed, in a different passage the Gemara clearly uses the expression in the sense ascribed to it by Rashi:

 

As it is written: "And his concubine was faithless to him" (Shofetim 19:20). Rabbi Evyatar said: He found a fly. Rabbi Yonatan said: He found a hair. Rabbi Evyatar found Eliyahu, and said to him: "What is the Holy One, blessed be He, doing?" He said to him: "He is occupied with the concubine in Giv'a." "And what does He say?" He said to him: "My son, Evyatar, says as follows; my son, Yonatan, says as follows." He said to him: "Is there, God forbid, any doubt before Heaven?" He said to him: "Both this and that are the words of the living God – he found a fly and did not become upset; he found a hair and became upset. (Gittin 6b)

 

Here we find the expression, "both this and that are the words of the living God," used in the sense that each of two contradictory positions represents part of a more complex truth.

 

     Maharal (Rabbi Aryeh Loeb of Prague) developed this idea in a comment relating to the following talmudic passage:

 

The words of the wise are like spurs, and like nails well driven in [are the sayings] of the masters of assemblies; they are given by one shepherd” (Kohelet 12:11) … “The masters of assemblies” – these are the Torah scholars who sit in separate gatherings and occupy themselves with the study of the Torah. These declare unclean, and these declare clean; these forbid, and these permit; these disqualify, and these declare fit. One may perhaps ask: How can I ever learn Torah? Therefore, the verse states: "They are given by one shepherd." One God gave them; one leader proclaimed them from the mouth of the Master of all creatures, blessed be He. … You too must make your ear like a funnel and acquire a discerning heart to hear the words of those who declare a thing unclean and the words of those who declare a thing unclean, the words of those who forbid and the words of those who permit, the words of those who disqualify and the words of those who declare something fit. (Chagiga 3b)

 

This Gemara relates to a genuine educational problem: People coming to study Torah, particularly the younger students, are sometimes distressed by the great many controversies found in Halakha and the Talmud. This is the way, for example, that first year students often react to the shiurim delivered by our Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Aharon Lichtenstein. But what is the Gemara's answer? Maharal explains the Gemara's conceptual foundation:

 

It says, "Masters of assemblies," because it is impossible for the Sages to think alike, and for there to be no disagreement between them in accordance with the differences in their understanding. For everything must be comprised of more than one element. Even if something is unclean, it must contain some element of cleanness. And similarly, if it is clean, it must contain some element of uncleanness. People are different in their understanding, and it is impossible for all people to understand things in the same way, as will be explained. Therefore, each and every person accepts one element in accordance with his understanding. (Maharal, Be'er ha-Gola, Be'er 1, p. 19)

 

Maharal develops the idea proposed by Rashi, arguing that everything is comprised of various elements, and that each sage focuses upon a particular element according to his particular inclination. Maharal disagrees here with Rambam on two points: 1) He maintains that reality is not simple but complex, and therefore controversy is inevitable. 2) In addition to controversy that stems from the very nature of reality, Maharal emphasizes the differences in personality and way of thinking between different people, differences that lead them to diverging conclusions. This stands in contrast to Rambam, who emphasizes the homogeneity of the thought process and rational analysis.

 

 It was Rav Kook who expanded the principle of the complexity of reality into a general metaphysical principle:

 

An abundance of peace means that all sides and opinions will become evident, and it will become clear how there is room for all of them, each according to its own standing, place, and substance. On the contrary, even matters that appear superfluous or contradictory will become evident when the truth of wisdom in all its facets is revealed. For only through an assemblage of all the parts and all the particulars, all the dissimilar ideas and all the diverse disciplines – only through them will the light of truth and justice shine. … A building is constructed out of different parts, and the truth of the light of the world will be constructed out of the different sides and different opinions. For they are all words of the living God, different modes of service, and guidance, and education, each one taking its place and station. … When a contradiction appears between ideas, this is how wisdom will be built. One must reflect upon how to find the internal logic of the ideas, which will bring about a reconciliation and an end to the contradiction. (Olat Re'iya, 6)

 

In a certain sense, this position is an expansion of the skeptical attitude outlined above. The proponents of the skeptical attitude argue that in certain areas no one can know with any degree of certainty that he, and not his disputant, is right. Those who champion complexity put forward a similar argument: no one can be sure that he is entirely right. My position presumably contains truth, but it also stands to reason that my opponent's position contains true elements as well. Since it is unclear which elements in my position are correct, and which are not; or it is unclear in which circumstances and contexts my position is valid, and in which my opponent's view is preferable – it is therefore necessary to tolerate opinions that conflict with my own. As we have said, this is an expansion and a refinement of the position which is skeptical about man's capacity to ascertain the truth.

 

Everybody is right

 

     The most extreme expression of tolerance in Judaism is found in the position that everybody is right. In essence, this formula states that everything is true, a position that is very similar to that of the relativists which Judaism in fact condemns. Saying that everybody is right is saying that there is no truth. As a rule, Judaism absolutely rejects this position. There are, however, various areas in which the question of who is "right" really does not pertain. In these circumscribed areas, we find the ultimate pluralism: no particular position is more right than any other. They are all true in the same degree. We find such a position in the words of the Vilna Gaon:

 

Each and every person has his own unique path to follow. For people differ one from the other in their intellect, as well as in their faces, and the nature of two people is not the same. During the time of the prophets, people would go to the prophets to inquire of God. The prophet would tell each person, based upon prophecy, the path that he should follow according to the root of his soul and the nature of his body. And when prophesy ceased, the holy spirit rested upon Israel; each person is told by his own counsel how to conduct himself, for the holy spirit is found in every person. (Vilna Gaon, Commentary on Mishlei 16:4)

 

In the continuation of the passage, the Vilna Gaon raises doubts whether or not each individual can in fact rely upon himself in choosing his way of worshipping God. He does not, however, retract the general principle that he had presented that each individual has his own unique way of serving God. In this area there is no room for arguments or controversy, because the idea of "right" does not pertain: everybody is right. This position is obviously limited to circumscribed areas, about which the notions of "true" and "false" are irrelevant. If I pray quickly and you pray slowly, if I prefer to learn Nezikin and you prefer Mo'ed – the question who is right and who is wrong does not apply. Each of us follows the special path that is appropriate for ourselves, but not necessarily for others. A similar idea finds expression in the words of Rabbi Eliezer:

 

Once a certain disciple went down before the Ark in the presence of Rabbi Eliezer, and he drew out the prayer to a great length. His disciples said to him: "Master, how longwinded this fellow is!" He replied to them: "Is he drawing it out any more than Moshe Rabbenu, of whom it is written: 'The forty days and the forty nights [that I fell down]'?"  Another time it happened that a certain disciple went down before the Ark in the presence of R. Eliezer, and he cut the prayer very short. His disciples said to him: "How concise this fellow is!" He replied to them: "Is he any more concise than Moshe Rabbenu, who prayed, as it is written: 'Heal her now, O God, I beseech You'?" (Berakhot 34a)

 

     We opened this section with the words of the Vilna Gaon. We shall close it with a famous Chassidic story:

 

Rabbi Dov Baer of Radoshitz once came before his teacher, "the Seer of Lublin" with a request: "Let our Master teach us the over-all way of serving the Creator." The Tzaddik answered: "One cannot tell a person which path to follow. There are many ways to serve God. One person serves God through the study of Torah, another serves Him through prayer. God can even be served in contradictory ways: One person serves Him through fasting, another serves Him through eating and drinking. Every person must consider the direction in which his heart pulls him, and he should choose that path with all his might. (Martin Buber, Darkho shel Adam al pi Torah ha-Hasidut, Jerusalem 1957, p. 14)

 

Personal development

 

     As was stated above, the position put forward by the Vilna Gaon is only relevant in certain very circumscribed areas. It may be possible to propose yet another approach, which may be extended to additional areas as well (though not necessarily to the realm of Halakha). If we recognize the importance of individual accomplishment and autonomous personal development in the worship of God, then it may sometimes be preferable for a person to adopt ideas which are clearly mistaken, but which he arrived at on his own, rather than blindly accept true ideas that he heard from others. When a person develops as an individual and in an independent manner, the intensity of his service of God will be greater. There may be certain areas in which this type of independence is worth the cost of error.

 

     The very fact that a person arrived at a certain approach on his own is significant for the development of his service of God. "A person is close to himself, and the fact that a person developed his approach on his own is of great importance, regardless of the degree to which that approach is truly appropriate for him. When a person follows a path that he paved with his own hands, his motivation and sincerity will be far greater. It may perhaps be argued that it is better for a person to follow his own individual path, even when it is mistaken, than to walk along the commonly accepted path, even when it is correct.

 

     Maharal suggests a similar position with regard to halakhic decision-making:

 

For it is more fitting and more correct to decide Halakha on the basis of the Talmud. Even though the concern exists that he will not follow the path of truth and that his ruling will not conform to the truth, the Torah scholar has nothing but what his reason allows him to understand from the Talmud. Even when his understanding and wisdom lead him astray, he is still loved by God, may He be blessed, when he rules in accordance with what follows from his understanding. A judge has nothing but what his eyes see. This is better than deciding Halakha from a code, when he does not understand the reasons, and he walks about like a blind man. (Maharal, Netivot Olam, I, p. 69).

 

Maharal claims that a person is obligated to rule for himself, and not to rely on others. This obligation stands even if, statistically, it will lead to a greater number of errors. Anyone who is fit to decide Halakha for himself is obligated to do so.

 

     I have not found a similar position regarding religious beliefs and worship in general. Regarding questions of religious outlook and belief, this proposal seems radical, and so perhaps it would be better to suggest a more moderate position. If we know that a person is clearly mistaken in his beliefs, then perhaps it is our obligation to try to persuade him of his errors, even if that means that he will have to forgo ideas that he had developed on his own. If, however, we are faced with a person who is debating whether to try and develop his own personal approach, or to adopt the ready positions of others, we should encourage him to follow his own path. As we said, if we see him adopting positions that seem wrong to us, we should try to convince him to rid himself of them. But we should allow him to take a chance, in the hope that his personal development will lead him in positive, rather than in negative directions.

 

     The suggestion that we have proposed in the preceding paragraph represents a certain educational policy. This educational policy encourages people to think independently, despite the danger that such thought will lead to errors and mistakes. The potential benefit outweighs the possible danger. The danger of error exists, but it is worthwhile to take that risk in order to enjoy the great gain of authentic personal spiritual development. This is a model of openness to controversy, which is not merely an abstract philosophical model, but a concrete educational approach.

 

(Translated by Rav David Strauss)

 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] It should be noted that nowhere in Rambam's writings do we find such an explanation. In fact, this mode of thought is wholly foreign to Rambam's approach, according to which systematic rational thought will lead of itself to the truth, so that there is no need to raise objections or possible alternatives.

 

[2] A similar approach emerges from the story related about Rabbi Yochanan, who after the death of Resh Lakish, complained that his new study partner, Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat, would agree with everything he said, making no attempt to disagree with him, as did Resh Lakish: "When I would say something, the son of Lakish would raise twenty-four objections against me, and I would give him twenty-four answers, and the subject would thereby be clarified" (Bava Metzia 84a).