40. Is Humanitarian Intervention Possible?

Parshah Balak

*Important attribution note: All quotes listed in this article are credited to the Artscroll Stone Edition Chumash. Here is an Extremely Clear Citation so I don’t get in trouble: Nosson Scherman, Hersh Goldwurm, Avie Gold, & Meir Zlotowitz. (2015). The Chumash: the Torah, Haftaros and Five Megillos. Mesorah Publications, Ltd.

Numbers 22:2-4*

“Balak son of Zippor saw all that Israel had done to the Amorite. Moab became very frightened of the people, because it was numerous, and Moab was disgusted in the face of the Children of Israel. Moab said to the elders of Midian, ‘Now, the congregation will lick up our entire surroundings, as an ox licks up the greenery of the field.’” 

We’re going to rewind to the story of Jacob and Rachel. Even back in Genesis, the Torah has consistently drawn a moral distinction between the Israelites and the Canaanites/Moabites/Amorites/etc. The Israelites were the single beacon of light illuminating the moral swamp that was the rest of the region. 

The funny thing about this distinction is that it’s only ever told, not shown. You know how when you’re watching a movie or reading a book, and suddenly, the author/screenwriter tells you something about the character that feels way out of left field? 

It happens a lot with female characters. The writer(s) spends bucketloads of time showing the female character making stupid decisions or relying on men for help, but then, Bam! A convenient piece of dialogue tells us the character is “so strong and smart.” It’s disconcerting because we’re told she’s “so strong and smart,” but we’re shown how helpless and stupid she is.  

Moses follows a similar pattern. He tells us until he’s blue in the face that the Israelites = good and Canaanites = bad, but the Torah shows us a completely different story. When Jacob first met Rachel, she was so young, and he was so obscenely old that he emphasized to the other men at the well that she was his relative so they wouldn’t be disgusted by his intentions. 

Similarly, Balak, the king of Moab, was physically disgusted by the Israelites’ behavior towards the Amorite nation. It’s quite the admission, especially considering the Torah is a very sympathetic source. 

In the last section, Moses “asked” the Amorite king to let them pass “peacefully” through his land to get to their destination. The king refused - understandably so, considering this nation had already proven to be genocidal, and it seemed like the flimsiest of pretexts. Moses passed through anyway, the Amorites attacked, and they slaughtered them and took their land. Disgusting, indeed. 

Forgive me for going off on a bit of a tangent, but this passage reminded me of Sodom and Gomorrah. Usually, when Biblical scholars are confronted with ample evidence of ancient Israel’s sins, the rebuttal is: but Sodom and Gomorrah! They were evil, see! 

When I wrote my analysis on Sodom and Gomorrah, I was still in my phase of believing the Jewish God was real. Given my mindset, much of what I wrote at the time was painfully embarrassing because it was mostly just me (unconsciously) trying to come up with excuses for God’s decisions and behaviors. 

Since I’ve thrown my previous mindset out of the window, what probably actually happened with Sodom and Gomorrah is that some sulfuric comet or asteroid hit the town and was easily mythologized. However, just because I don’t believe God smote the town out of existence doesn’t mean I don’t want to engage with the fascinating questions it brings up about human nature and morality.  

Let’s dive in. 

Take out the God part for a second. On a human level, how should we deal with places like Sodom and Gomorrah? Remember, they weren’t just having a ton of orgies, they raped every visitor to the town, and if they were raping every visitor, they were probably doing a whole lot of other bad things. (If you don’t believe Sodom and Gomorrah even existed, no worries, I get it - assume it’s hypothetical.) 

Obviously, the thing you definitely do not do is kill every single living soul in the town. That’s always a no-no. However, outside of annihilation, the question on the table is ultimately about intervention and the limits of intervention. 

The United States’ practice of imperial intervention and colonization is terrible. But by far the thorniest hypothetical I’ve encountered throughout this project is the question of where to draw the line when it comes to intervention. 

Take Afghanistan, where women rightly feel abandoned by the rest of the world. If anywhere in the world deserves intervention, it’s Afghanistan, but what kind of intervention is ethical? 

You could limit yourself to aid work, but then you’re basically saying the Afghan people deserve to be fed, but they don’t deserve to live free of a horrendously oppressive system. The fundamental truth, no matter how inconvenient, is that the only way to get the Taliban out of power is through military might. 

You can’t invade Afghanistan just to rid them of the Taliban, because, say, you get rid of the Taliban - what next? Are you going to be an occupying power, trying to govern the Afghan people from your base in wherever-else-that-isn’t-Afghanistan? Then you’re colonizing.

Your other option is to select an internal opposition group to fund and back, but if anything is worse than occupation, an externally backed coup might be. They tried this in Afghanistan, too, which is how they got ISIS. 

As an external force, you have no idea whether the country will accept your choice domestically or even whether your choice is the right one in the first place! Based on US history, externally imposed choices are never the right ones. 

So, honestly, what do you do? How do we reach a point where people are given the tools they need to agitate for true change within their own governments? How do we get to the point where the Afghan people, the Iranian people, or the Sudanese people are able to obtain the tools and resources needed to do this without inviting an imperial power into their country? 

Usually, when I introduce a question, I have an idea or a suggestion attached to it. This question, though, is much messier, and I don’t know the answer. The best I can come up with, and it is profoundly imperfect, is this: 

• If you’re an external power, all you can do to help people in an oppressive system is give aid. Give aid freely and universally. Right now, a lot of Afghanistan’s aid has been diminished because Western governments are trying to punish the Taliban. This is a disgusting practice, in part because it’s exactly what the Taliban wants. 

• Instead, if an oppressive system takes power in a country, you increase the aid. If you have to operate on specific terms or with certain restrictions to do it, fucking do it anyway. I guarantee you that Afghan women and girls will be far worse off if their fathers and brothers aren’t able to get any aid than they would be if only their fathers and brothers were eligible for aid because of gender oppression. 

• If you’re an internal resistance, you do everything you can to work within the system. You invest in education, recruit, and train. Organize. Get as many people as possible trained up and protected so you have half a shot of taking on your army and political apparatus, so a grassroots movement can overthrow the powers that be. 

• Once the resistance takes power, organically and without outside help, the outside powers can help more freely with aid, economic development, and integration into the political economy. 

Right now, the only real type of coup we see is military coups because only the military has access to training and weapons. But maybe it doesn’t have to be this way. Sure, ordinary people may not be able to purchase tanks, but they can probably find a way to build up their other resources. 

I understand the immense obstacles facing everyone in this world, and I’m not suggesting it’s straightforward. I just think this is the only possible model to fight against oppression without trading one oppressor for another.  

Numbers 22:16-18*

“They came to Balaam and said to him, ‘So said Balak son of Zippor, “Do not refrain from going to me, for I shall honor you greatly, and everything that you say to me I shall do; so go now and curse this people for me.”’

Balaam answered and said to the servants of Balak, ‘If Balak will give me his houseful of silver and gold, I cannot transgress the word of Hashem, my God, to do anything small or great.’” 

This passage is long, so I’ll summarize it. The king of Moab went to a prophet and asked him to curse the Israelites. The prophet, being a faithful follower of the Israelite God Hashem, refused. 

The cultural context of this is fascinating. In Jewish culture, Balaam is a bad dude. He was a Gentile (oooh, the horror!) who tried to curse the Jews but was stopped by God. Even according to their own religious text, this narrative is false. Balaam was an extremely devoted follower of Hashem. He went on his mission because God told him to, and he only said what God told him to say. 

To be fair, he did make a tiny mistake. God gave him somewhat ambiguous permission (he could go only if the men came to collect him), but he misunderstood and went before they collected him. Once he apologized for his error, God did tell him to go. He ended up giving a positive prophecy to Israel, and even though the king was outraged and made him redo it twice more, the prophecy still came out positive because Balaam was certain it reflected what God said. 

Given everything, it’s extremely interesting that Jewish people believe this guy is a bad egg. What did he do to them? He was the pinnacle of obedience to Hashem, but… he wasn’t Jewish.  

The animosity towards converts in Judaism, or, more accurately, racially-motivated animosity, has been present from the beginning. 

Numbers 25:1-4*

“Israel settled in the Shittim and the people began to commit harlotry with the daughters of Moab. They invited the people to the feasts of their gods; the people ate and prostrated themselves to their gods. Israel became attached to Baal-peor, and the wrath of Hashem flared up against Israel. Hashem said to Moses, ‘Take all the leaders of the people. Hang them before Hashem against the sun - and the flaring wrath of Hashem will withdraw from Israel.’” 

What would a parshah be without a Moses massacre?! Twenty-four thousand people died in this one because they worshiped a different god. Or, technically, because they went to a feast and had a great time on behalf of a different god. 

Call me crazy, but having known children, the best way to pique their curiosity about something is to prohibit them from doing it. 

If God really was as awesome and powerful as Israel says He is, shouldn’t He be okay with people exploring other religions? 

I’ve been in management positions before, and it’s definitely tempting to force people to do things a certain way. Parents will empathize with this, too. You already know the right way! Why won’t they just listen? 

Unfortunately, across every eon of human history, we are stubborn and independent. The best way to get us to understand something is, and probably will always be, to have us figure it out for ourselves. Instead of “Don’t do that!” we could say, “As long as you don’t infringe on anyone else’s rights, you can do whatever you want, but I do it this way.” In other words, trust yourself to lead by example. Even though it takes a lot longer, once people come around, the realization also lasts a lot longer. 

*Again with the Extremely Clear Citation so I don’t get in trouble: Nosson Scherman, Hersh Goldwurm, Avie Gold, & Meir Zlotowitz. (2015). The Chumash : the Torah, Haftaros and Five Megillos. Mesorah Publications, Ltd.