Tetzaveh: Castes & Nepotism

The Kohen Gadol

שמות פרק כח

ואתה הקרב אליך את-אהרון אחיך ואת-בניו איתו, מתוך בני ישראל--לכהנו-לי: אהרון--נדב ואביהוא אלעזר ואיתמר, בני אהרון.

Exodus 28:1 “And you shall draw to yourself Aharon, your brother, and his sons with him, from amongst the Jews to serve Me; Aharon – Nadav, Avihu, Elazar, and Isamar, the sons of Aharon.”

One Side of the Story: A Case Against

To me, the whole issue of familial entitlement smacks of ritual nepotism. Why is it that Moshe’s brother, nephews, and their subsequent generations automatically merit the priesthood? Were there no run of the mill working Jews worthy of representing the people in the Mishkan? I have known many a Kohen in my day and some of them are not close to worthy of being janitors, let alone priests entrusted with our religious ceremony and atonement. The idea that someone merits a position of honor simply because of genetics is contrary to the egalitarian sensitivities of most people.

Mitzrayim had a separate and privileged priestly class also, and we are told that the many of the Bnei Levi, even while living in Goshen, were exempt from the avodas perech that all other Jew were required to perform. They managed to avoid hard labor because the dominant culture they lived under venerated their own priestly classes. It can be argued that Moshe and Aharon, both members of this privileged class, sought to maintain their unique social position, even under new circumstances.

I get the sense when reading through the Chumash that Moshe and Aharon were more like Mafiosos, bringing only the close family or those (like Pinchas) who showed extreme zeal into the ‘family.” Being in the family afforded one the obligatory prestige and honor of the entire Jewish nation, but it, like all things came at a price. Like the mafia, all allegiance is to the family first, and if one within the family breaks the rules, he/she faces punishment with a greater severity than one who is an outsider. The bas-kohen who commits adultery, the Aish Zara of Nadav and Avihu, and the murder of the Korach and his family are good examples.

Consider also that Moshe told the Jews not to return to Mitzrayim and that everything Mitzrayim stood for was treife, and then, first on Moshe’s list of things to do was to set up a religious order similar to that of Mitzrayim! One can fully understand the anger and resentment that some Jews would have over this apparent contradiction, and indeed, there were no less than three rebellions brought on over this very issue.

It is also interesting (and disturbing) to see how Moshe Soprano dealt with those who objected to this nepotism, in or outside the family. It seems that anyone who disagreed or dissented was magically ‘swallowed’ up in the Midbar. There is the story of the Bnei Levi taking up arms and killing dissenters. The Torah tells us that almost an entire generation disappeared in the sands of the Sinai. That is almost as many people as the mob ‘whacked’ in the desert outside of Las Vegas! Why did they merit death for what were very natural questions of authority and the imposed caste system? Especially when on one hand the Jews were told that they were all bnei kodesh (ad shoyev maymecha) equally. It seems that some were more kodesh than others.

In this day and age we consider nepotism in public service to be violation of the public trust, and rightly so. For one to attain public office based upon family ties alone is highly offensive to most ethically minded people. I have a suspicion that I’d be sympathizing with the Korachs and the Avirams were I to have lived as a member of the Dor Hamidbar.

The Other Side: In Defense Of

On the other hand, there is something to be said for bringing family into the business or keeping an existing business within a particular family. This goes to the core of why so many, including myself, believe that yichus is something important to consider, from both a social and professional perspective.

Take the example of a Chasidic dynasty. Imagine yourself the son of a Chasidic Rebbe. Your father was also likely the son or close relation to the Rebbe before him, who himself was born and raised into this Chasidic dynasty. So it is probable that you have already witnessed in your short lifetime three generations of the family ‘business’, and if you’ve been paying any attention at all, you would already be intimately familiar the requirements, responsibilities, etiquettes , and potential challenges that accompany the position. Should you merit to inherit this job, it should come to you with ease and flow quite naturally. After all, you’ve been raised in it, and should know how to handle what comes with it. There should be little effort in your transition.

This ease of transition into becoming the Rebbe is crucial, not so much for the new Rebbe, but more importantly, for his Chasidim. The natural and easy-flowing assumption of responsibility and the confidence inspired by that ease are essential to running an efficient and motivated operation. Most Chasidim will follow whomever it is that becomes Rebbe since that’s the job of a chosid; but to make it more than just a job or a routine tradition that Rebbe must instill mesiras nefesh and ibergegebenkeit through natural leadership.

In a similar vein, Moshe knew that established and recognizable patterns of governance, even if they were Mitzrayimdik, would be easier for the Jews as a whole to grow into, even if it meant that some would see this as contradictory or self-serving. Granting the Kohanim (and Levi’im) a genetic heritage of office ensured that a smooth flow of transition would exist, at least for future generations. We see that at both Har Sinai and with the Aish Zara, that the first generation priests, Aharon included, were still fumbling around a bit while trying to fit into their new leadership positions, and those moments of indecision and misjudgment led to tragic results. Imagine these kinds of problems occurring each time the leadership changed.

Could we have endured thus far otherwise? Considering the consequences of open revolt and fragmented social order, can one really blame Moshe for taking such a harsh stand on so fundamental a necessity? I still take issue with the methods, but I also understand the situation. I cannot imagine Moshe failing to mourn the deaths and purges within those people he was sent to guide, and it must have weighed heavy on his conscience to have had to implement such dreadful measures.

Yiddishkeit is not the only religion that presupposes a caste system or religious hierarchy. The question had to be asked as to why we needed it and what purpose it served in helping to maintain social order and further our national goals. I hope this answered some of those concerns.