1. An earlier version of this paper was presented to the Workshop on Studying and Teaching the Jewish Political Tradition, held in Jerusalem in August 1981 under the auspices of the Center for Jewish Community Studies. The center, under the direction of Professor Daniel Elazar, has been in the forefront of Jewish political studies throughout the decade of its existence, and 1 am grateful for the opportunity to express my thanks to Professor Elazar and the other fellows and associates of the center for their inspiration and advice. For an introduction to the general subject of this paper, see Elazar, D.J., “Covenant as the Basis of the Jewish Political Tradition,” in Kinship and Consent: The Jewish Political Tradition and Its Contemporary Uses, ed. D.J., Elazar (Ramat-Gan: Turtledove Publishing, 1981), pp. 21–56;Google Scholar and Elazar, D.J. and Cohen, S.A., A Gazetteer of Jewish Political Organization, experimental ed. (Jerusalem: Center for Jewish Community Studies, 1981).Google Scholar

2. Hence, Abraham can invoke jurisprudential principles when haggling over the fate of Sodom “Shall the judge of the entire world not perform justice?”; Gen. 18:25); Moses can refer to basic rights when attempting to avert God's wrath (e.g., Num. 16:22); the tannaim can insist that the torah is “not in heaven” (e.g., Talmud Bavli [hereafter T.B.] Bava Meziah 59ab); and the amoraim can reject the notion that the covenant was foisted upon an unwilling and virgin people at Sinai (T.B. Shabbal 88a and tosafot).

3. For one early example of the extent to which Moses was considered to have fulfilled an extraordinarily wide range of constitutional functions, see Philo, , De Sacrificiis Abelis el Caini, IV, 130, Loeb Classical Library ed., trans. Colson, F.H. (London, 1929), vol. 2, p. 189: There he is described as Israel's “captain and leader the High Priest [sic] and prophet and friend of God.” Talmudic sources, although more precise, are only marginally less extravagant. They refer to Moses as both “king and prophet” (melekh ve-navi); e.g., T.B. Shavu'ot 15a. The designations of David as eved adonai in Psalms 18:1 and 36:1 are not manifestly of divine origin. Within the present context they might be understood to be the consequence of a human endeavor to attribute to the founder of the royal dynasty a title which intimated unquestioned constitutional primacy.Google Scholar

4. E.g., T.B. Bava Batra 75a; “The elders of that generation said: 'The face of Moses is like the sun; that of Joshua is like the moon.'”

5. Chap. 141. The fact that Moses did, eventually, place both of his hands on Joshua (Num. 27:23) presents an obvious complication and provoked much subsequent rabbinic huffing and puffing (e.g., T.B. Sanhedrin 105b and Numbers Rabbah 12:9). None of this, however, satisfied the Malbim (Meir Loeb ben Jehiel Mikhael, 1809–1879), who restated the obvious: “And then he was commanded to lay on Joshua only one single hand and to bestow upon him only some of his honor” (Ha-Torah ve-ha-Mitzvah, Num. 27:21). For an alternative (non-Jewish) view of this incident, see Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, pt. Ill, chap. 40.

6. On these instances see, respectively, T.B.Sanhedrin 18b, and Maimonides, Hilkhol Sanhedrin 2:4; Beer, M., Reshut ha-Golah be-Bavel bimei ha-Mishnah ve-ha-Talmud (Tel Aviv, 1970), pp. 106–141;Google Scholar, and Baer, Y., A History of the Jews in Christian Spain, vol. 1 (Philadelphia,1961), pp. 212–231;Google ScholarHeilprin, Y., Pinkas Va'ad Arbah Aratzot: Lekutei Takkanot, Ketavim ve-Reshumot (Jerusalem, 1945), introduction. The constitutional position allotted to the rabbanim rashi'im and the rabbinical courts in the modern State of Israel—for all its anomalies—can be portrayed as an echo of precisely the same principle.Google Scholar

7. For which the conventional source is De l' Esprit des Lois, bk. XI, chap. 6. No attempt is here made to determine whether Montesquieu actually invented the notion; that is a scholastic minefield which has already led to the spilling of much ink. Suffice it to say that “this idea was by Montesquieu expounded with greater insight and elaboration than anyone before him; he possessed it more fully than they did, saw fully into its implications and into the conditions, social and psychological, of it being realised. It is his idea by right of conquest.” Plamenatz, J., Man and Society, vol. 1 (London, 1963), p. 194.Google Scholar

8. See Sicker, M., “Rabbinic Political Thought” (Ph.D. diss., New School for Social Research, 1972), pp. 384–387. This interpretation also points out that a closer study of each of the quotations adduced here suggests that they did not really constitute constitutional comments of the sort which we seek. Rather, they fall into the category of incidental intrusions, each in its own way of intrinsic interest as an indication of the extent to which the Jewish tradition has sporadically managed to pick up occasional statements from other traditions and assimilate them to its own use. They cannot, however, be elevated to the level of comprehensive and specifically Jewish—statements of political fact or political theory, to which, indeed, they are basically alien.Google Scholar

9. Most notably in the outlines of governmental provisions to be found in Deuteronomy, chaps. 17 and 18, wherein, after a general introduction (17:8–13), separate paragraphs are allotted to the appointment and prerogatives of the melekh (Deut. 17:14–20), the kohanim and levi'im (18:1–8), and the navi (18:9–22). This division established a form to which, it appears, the Jewish political tradition thereafter remained remarkably faithful. The source is important, since—from the viewpoint of biblical chronology—it provides early evidence for a theory of Jewish civics in conditions of independent statehood. It is also, admittedly, somewhat problematical. Confusion is likely to be engendered by the appearance of the word yorukhah(from the same root as torah) in juxtaposition to the judicial functions of the priests (17:11). For a discussion of this point that largely does away with the difficulty, see Cody, A., A History of Old Testament Priesthood (Rome, 1969), pp. 114–123, esp. p. 119. For an explicit exegetical application to these passages of the conceptual framework posited here, see the sixteenth-century commentary Toral Mosheh to Deut. 18:1 by Moses Alshekh of Safed, especially par. 6: “Here are the three ketarim…”Google Scholar

10. Of which the most succinct, and probably the best known, is to be found in Mishnah Avot 4:13: “Rabbi Simeon said: 'There are three crowns: the crown of torah, the crown of kehunah, and the crown of malkut; but the crown of a good name excels them all.'” The purpose of this particular epigram is manifestly ethical—and that is how it has quite properly been interpreted in the standard commentaries. Nevertheless, the need to acknowledge the heuristic intentions of R. Simeon cannot be transposed into an excuse for ignoring the political realities upon which his statement was based—and which probably rendered it all the more intelligible to his contemporaries. As much was appreciated by the author of Avot de Rabbi Natan (chap.41), as well as by such medievals as Duran and Bartenoro, all of whom did in fact go to some lengths to establish the biblical basis for each of the three ketarim. Unfortunately, their efforts have been completely wasted on some other observers, who complain that the original teaching “is only spoiled by laboured interpretations” (R. Travers Herford, The Ethics of the Fathers [New York, 1961], p. 113). Something of a case might be made for the adoption of an alternative term to that of ketarim. Zirin (lit. “garlands” or “wreaths”), for instance, might be considered one prospective candidate, not least since it is employed in the Talmud to describe precisely the tripartite division with which we are here concerned (T.B. Yoma 72b). Significantly, however, Rashi's commentary on that particular text reverts to the more conventional ketarim— and it is in such respectable company that we beg to remain.

11. Avol de Rabbi Natan, loc. cit. For an early comparison of the “priestly” and “royal”covenants, see Ecclesiasticus 45:24–25.

12. As is the case in all political systems, the issue of legitimate succession poses problems of a particularly thorny nature. These are too intricate to be detailed here. Briefly stated, the Jewish political tradition requires that prospective candidates for appointment to governmental office (minui) fulfill at least two of the following three criteria: appropriate heredity (yihus); popular approval and/or recognition (haskamah); and the enactment of a constitutionally recognized ceremony of induction into office (meshihah— “anointment”; or semikhah— “ ordination”). The point to be made here is that the “mix” between these various requirements varies from keter to keter, with no two ketarim demanding identical qualifications. As much is evident, to take but one example, from the deuteronomic passage quoted above: the melekh, in that case, derives his power from a process which combines both popular selection and divine approval (in later coronation ceremonies symbolized by both acclamation and meshihah); the position of the kohanim is made principally dependent on genetic circumstances; the navi is “raised up from amongst his brethren” by virtue of his divinely inspired understanding of God's will (which can be given formal recognition within the keter by a process of semikhah, as in the case of Joshua, who was thus ordained by Moses). A thorough analysis of this issue citing classic sources and specifically referring to the differences between the three ketarim is to be found in Moses Sofer, Responsa Hatam Sofer, Orafi tfayyim, no. 12. I am grateful to my student, Ms. Hildah Shatzburger, for drawing my attention to this source.

13. E.g., Joshua Falk Katz, Perishah to Tur, Ijoshen Mishpat I, la; commentary on Avot 1:2.

14. The presence of representatives of all three ketarim in such major constitutional actions as the designation of the melekh is profusely illustrated in the Bible (e.g., 1 Kings 1). More interesting, because less obviously necessary, is the requirement that any extension of the city limits of Jerusalem, or of the boundaries of the Temple, similarly requires their joint presence. See Mish. Shavu'ot 2:2.

15. The fact that the appointee, Aaron, was also his brother, tended further to increase Moses' authority; it also helped to incite the discontent expressed by Koralj. See Rashi's commentary to Num. 16:3.

16. Significant, in this context, is the Talmud's comparison of Moses and R. Judah ha-Nasi, both of whom combined “torah and greatness [gedulah],” to which Rashi adds: Moses “was superior to all Israel in malkhut and torah, so was Rabi [Judah ha-Nasi] in the nesi'ut and torah” (T.B. Gittin 59a and Sanhedrin 36a).

17. And it is significant that classic Jewish sources do acknowledge the weight which it deserves. “R. Joshua ben Kovsai said: 'All my life I ran away from executive authority [serarah]; now that 1 wield it, I pour a pot full of boiling water on all who would take it away from me. Just as the pot burns, injures, and sullies—so do I act' “ (T.B. Menaffot 109b, T.J. Pesalfim 6:1). Contrast this with the apolitical stream of Jewish thought expressed in the injunction to “love work and hate mastery [rabbanul], and do not acquaint yourself with government [reshut]” (Mish. Avot 1:10).

18. Of course, the construction of the Temple essentially culminated a process; it did not set a trend. Solomon's blunt deposition of Abiathar (1 Kings 2:26) had already indicated the balance of forces between the two ketarim. See Alt, A., “Formation of the Israelite State in Palestine,” in Essays on Old Testament History and Religion (Oxford, 1960), p. 218 and fn. 17;Google ScholarAharoni, Y., The Land of the Bible (London, 1966), pp. 268–273;Google Scholar and Heaton, E.W., Solomon's New Men: The Emergence of Ancient Israel as a Nation Slate (London, 1974), pp. 50–51.Google Scholar

19. For which the classic source is 1 Sam. 8:11–18. Within the present context, two points are worthy of note in regard to this passage. The first is the phrase mishpat ha-melekh, which may (or may not) be a deliberate echo of Deut. 18:3 (mishpat ha-kohanim) possibly designed to contrast the two domains. The second is Samuel's own position. By virtue of his status and activities (and rather ambivalent title: ro'eh— “seer”), he may be described as a leader with a foot in both the keter torah (as a prophet) and the keter malkhut (as a military leader). The fact that, in his youth, he had also ministered at Shiloh might also have left him with residual claims on the keier kehunah. The coupling of his name with that of Moses and of Aaron in Psalms 96:6 certainly raises an intriguing question (cf. T.B. Rosh ha-Shanah 25a—b).

20. For one view of the political thrust of Pharisaic exegesis, see Finkelstein, L., New Light from the Prophets (London, 1969):Google Scholar “The Mishnah in all its versions was a proclamation of the authority of the non-priestly scholar as opposed to that of the Temple priests. It was used by the Pharisaic teachers, spiritual heirs of the Prophets and the Men of the Great Synagogue, to show that they, and not the contemporary High Priests, were the authorized interpreters of the Law” (p. 82). See also Neusner's, J. comment in A Life of Yohanan ben Zakkai: Ca. 1–80 C.E., 2d ed. (Leiden, 1970), pp. 63–64. “The sage was not a charismatic leader…. He could not claim authority by reason of a legitimate place in the cult. He did not have any function in the Temple service which might support his demand to direct and interpret the rites. On the contrary the sage's only authentication was his teaching and his own embodiment of the burden of his message. He represented a third force in religion, opposed to the two primary elements of charisma and traditional routine. These two elements were united in the experience of the 'Torah.'”Google Scholar

21.. See, for example, the exegesis of Deut. 17:11, 17:18, and 32:7 in such passages as T.B. Shabbal 21a–23b, which are themselves amplified in such later commentaries as those of Nahmanides (e.g., to Deut 17:11). The manner in which these verses are thus examined stands in marked contrast to the treatment accorded to other passages, whose thrust is somewhat different. For a summary of much of this trend, see Abarbanel's commentary on 1 Sam. 8:4–7 in his Perush al Nevi'im Rishonim, pp. 202–210.

22. E.g., Maimonides, Hilkhot Mamrim 1:1–2, and the sources quoted in Elon, M., Ha-Mishpat ha-lvri: Toldotav, Mekorotav, Ekronolav, 3 vols. (Jerusalem, 1973), pp. 220–221.Google Scholar

23. Ibn Daud's, E.g. introduction to his twelfth-century Sefer ha-Kabbalah, ed. Cohen, G. (Philadelphia, 1966), p. 3: “The purpose of this Book of Tradition is to provide students with the evidence that all the teachings of our rabbis of blessed memory, namely, the sages of the Mishnah and the Talmud, have been transmitted: each great sage and righteous man having received them from a great sage and righteous man … as far back as the men of the Great Assembly, who received them from the prophets, of blessed memory all.” See also the introductions to such great codes as those compiled by Maimonides, Asher ben Yeljiel, and Joseph Caro (which are all conveniently quoted in Elon, Mishpat Ivri, vol. 3).Google Scholar

24. T.B. Bava Batra 12a: “From the day that the Holy Temple was destroyed, prophecy was removed from the prophets and given to the sages.” See also the commentaries on this passage by the Perush ha-Kotev and the Etz Yosef. For further evidence, Elon, op. cit., p. 225, fn. 15

25. On which there is a large and growing literature. For recent research in this field, see Goodblatt, D., Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian Babylon (Leiden, 1975);Google ScholarGafni, Y., “Yeshivah u-Metivta,” Zion 43 (1978): 12–37;Google Scholar and Goodblatt, D., “Hitpathuyot tfadashot be-Heker Yeshivot Bavel,” Zion 46 (1981).Google Scholar For an interesting contemporary attempt to seek a direct connection between the geonic yeshivah and Moses, see the letters of Samuel, R.Eli, B. quoted in B.Z. Dinur, Yisrael ba-Golah, vol. 1, bk. 2 (Tel Aviv, 1961), p. 119.Google Scholar

26. If, indeed, such an institutional form did then exist. According to one view: “In the world of the sages during the Temple period you find no bureaucratic organization no system whatsoever of appointment, no promotion, no remuneration, nor even any real arrangements for training or definition of functions. Likewise, there were, of course, no titles; simply the personal name of the sage was used. The titles 'rabban' or 'rabbi' are of a later time.” Urbach, E., “Jewish Doctrines and Practices in Halakhic and Aggadic Literature,” in Violence and Defense in the Jewish Experience, ed. Baron, S. and G. Wise (Philadelphia, 1977), p. 90.Google Scholar

27. In recognition of which Maimonides noted: “The rashei galuta of Babylon replace the melekh.” Hilkhot Sanhedrin 4:13.

28. Liebman, C.S., Pressure Without Sanctions: The Influence of World Jewry on Israeli Policy (Rutherford, N.J., 1977), especially chap. 8, “The Israeli Image of Diaspora Jewry,” pp. 216–231; and idem, “Diaspora Influence on Israel: The Ben-Gurion-Blaustein 'Exchange' and Its Aftermath,” Jewish Social Studies 36 (1974): 278–280.Google Scholar

29. E.g., T.B. Pesahim 57a and Yoma 81b; cf. earlier notions that the Messiah might be a descendant of Aaron; M. Z. Segal “Moza'oh shel ha-Melekh ha-Mashiah,” Tarbiz 21 (1950): 133–136.

30. Whether or not any attempts were made remains an intriguing historical question. The thesis that the kohanim attempted to reestablish their cohesion and regain their authority was put forward by Buchler (Kohanim ve-Avodatam) and Dinur (in his commentary to Pirkei Avot). Both of these sources saw indications of this revival in the coup which brought about the deposition of Gamaliel II and his replacement by Elazar ben Azariah ha-Kohen. See Alon, G., Mekharim be-Toldol Yisrael, vol. 1 (Tel Aviv, 1967), p. 258.Google Scholar

31. Neusner, J., “Max Weber Revisited: Religion and Society in Ancient Judaism,” The Eighth Sacks Lecture (Oxford, 1981), esp. pp. 12–18.Google Scholar

32. An office which would once appear to have been of more than marginal importance. The term itself (possibly derived from the Akkadian hazzanu “governor”) is employed in mishnaic texts to describe a Temple officer (e.g., Sotah 7:7–8, Yoma 7:1–2) and was soon transposed to the synagogue (Tosefta Megillah 3:13 and T.J. Berakhot 9:4). For the hazzaris later participation often formal in Jewish communal affairs, see the sources quoted in Finkelstein, L., Jewish Self-Government in the Middle Ages (New York, 1936), p. 197, fn. 1;Google ScholarRosensweig, B., Ashkenazic Jewry in Transition (Ontario, 1975), p. 42;Google Scholar and Landman, L., “The Office of the Medieval Hazzan,” Jewish Quarterly Review 62 (1971–72): 156–187 and 246–276. Discussing one period, Landman notes: “As a result of the educational standards of the cantorate and the fact that they were considered 'the messengers of the community' to intercede with God on the community's behalf, the status of the cantor during the Geonic Age was on a very high level. In some areas, the hazzan was the head of the community.”CrossRefGoogle Scholar

33. For various discussions of this point, see Rosenthal, G.S. (ed.), The American Rabbi(New York, 1977), especially A. Kass, “Watchmen for the Community,” pp. 9–22; G. S. Rosenthal, “The American Rabbi as Theologian and Philosopher,” pp. 77–96; and H. R. Rabinowitz, “The Rabbi as Preacher,” pp. 117–140.Google Scholar

34. One recent example is provided by the convention of Holocaust survivors and their children held in Jerusalem in June 1981. The gathering was largely inspired by Elie Wiesel, who in many respects deserved to be regarded as one of the contempoary edah's interpreters of its condition and past. By explicitly covenanting to ensure the remembrance of the Holocaust, participants in the gathering—led by Wiesel—undertook to reinforce the place of that experience as a motif of Jewish public life and behavior. The presence of the Prime Minister of Israel at the closing ceremony of the convention (which was held at the Western Wall) further contributed to the deep symbolic significance of the event, and to its possible reinforcement of the Holocaust syndrome as an influence on Jewish political culture.