A Time to Hate

Our everyday ethos of ethics comes out strongly against the emotion of hate. Whether it’s the hate that motivates those seeking to destroy the Jewish people, the strife that leads to wholesale genocide, or even the classroom bully engendering ill will, hatred seems to be a lousy personality trait. In fact, it is a natural tendency to assume that this trait is objectively reprehensible. The Torah weighs in on as well, forbidding us to hate. Yet the structure of the prohibition begs for further explanation, as we will soon see. And, with all of our natural intuition directed towards avoiding hatred at all costs, the system of halacha actually advocates situations where one is obligated to hate.

We see the following verse in the Torah (Vayikra 19:17):

“You shall not hate your brother in your heart; You shall certainly rebuke your friend; [but] you shall not bear a sin on his account.”

According to many of the commentaries, this is the opposite of the obligation of “veahavta lereiacha kamocha,” to love one’s friend as he would himself (this will become important later). Soon after, the Torah describes the prohibitions of revenge (lo sikom) and bearing a grudge (lo sitor). In a nutshell, revenge is described as a case where, for example, Reuven asked to borrow a cup of sugar from Shimon, who refuses. When Shimon then asks for a cup of sugar from Reuven, Reuven replies that since Shimon did not lend it to him, he will act similarly. Bearing a grudge is the same scenario. However, when Shimon now wants the sugar, Reuven accedes to Shimon’s request, while reminding Shimon that he is the better person, and that’s why he is giving him the sugar.

The Sefer HaChinuch (238) adds an interesting layer to this sin. When one hates only “within his heart”, he is over the prohibition. One would think, then, that when someone acts vengefully, he would violate both the precept of hating internally and taking revenge. Naturally, one must hate someone else prior to engaging in revenge. Yet, he writes that the person would only violate the precept of revenge. Why should this be the case?

There is another, even more difficult concept tied to hate that belies the concept of it being inherently problematic. The Rambam reflects the very text of the Torah in his assessment of this prohibition (Hilchos Deos 6:5), explaining that one is in violation of a Torah precept if he hates a fellow Jew.

And yet…at the end of the Rambam’s writings concerning murder (Hilchos Rotzeach 13:14, reflecting the conclusion reached by the Talmud in Shabbos 113b), we see a change in the formulation of hatred. He explains that it is a mitzvah, a positive commandment, to hate in a certain situation. Let’s say Reuven sees Shimon about to violate a prohibition (the example offered by the Talmud is within the area of sexual prohibitions). Reuven prudently warns Shimon of the sin he is about to commit, explaining the nature of the violation and the consequence (a form of hasraa, halachic warning). Shimon ignores the warning and proceeds to commit the sin. According to Chazal, it is a positive commandment for Reuven to now hate Shimon.

Clearly, this is a difficult formulation to understand. If hate is an objectively abhorrent trait, why is it a mitzvah to hate this individual?

As mentioned above, many commentaries view hatred as the counter to loving one’s neighbor. When viewing the idea of loving one’s fellow Jew as he loves himself, one should not think (as the Ramban pointedly demonstrates in his commentary on said commandment) that one could love someone else equal to himself. Instead, the idea is deeper and more fundamental. It is essential that one be able to relate to other human beings as just that, human beings. We are all people created by God, sharing the common essential feature of a tzelem Elokim, a mind, a soul. The opposite, or flip side of the coin, is to view one’s existence as somehow superior to someone else’s. The distorted view of superiority could be the underlying source of hatred. As we know, egocentrism is one of the central features of the human psyche that blocks one’s ability to relate to God properly. The more important one thinks he is, the harder it is to realize he is, in fact, an insignificant being in relationship to God, yiras Hashem. When someone hates someone else, when he views his fellow man as someone below him, he by definition prevents himself from relating to God.

What we see, then, is that this sin, a specific attitude between him and his fellow man, is one that undermines his relationship with God. It is possible that this is the reason the Sefer Hachinuch stresses that this mitzvah is separate from revenge. When one acts on his hatred, a new sin emerges. He is not just compromising his relationship to God, but he is also acting out against the other person. The Sefer Hachinuch, when explaining the rationale for this sin, writes that hatred against one’s fellow man ultimately leads to the destruction of social order. It is possible, then, that when on acts out of revenge, he is in fact partaking of a new quality of sin. There is the element of his relationship to God, as well as his to mankind. When he acts in revenge, he is now expressing his hatred, destroying the social fabric. These two features together create a new quality of sin. Had the sin of revenge included the sin of hatred as well, one would think the sin of revenge in and of itself was building on that of hatred. Instead, it is of a different nature than hating within, a different sin altogether. Therefore, we can see the emphasis on hating within one’s heart as not being part of the sin of revenge.

This gives us an overall background into the severity of this sin of hating. How then can we understand the phenomenon of hating the individual who commits the sin, if hatred is so damaging to how we relate to God? Let’s first understand the specific issue with the sin in this scenario. The fact that the commandment to hate emerges once Shimon rejects the advice of Reuven tells us one very important fact. Shimon is not simply falling prey to some momentary passion. He is making a clear decision, in a sense exercising his free will, and choosing to abandon the derech Hashem, the path of God. In reality, he is lowering himself to a more instinctual state of existence. It is no coincidence the case used by the Talmud is one of sexual prohibitions, as it is the paradigm of man’s succumbing to the world of the instincts. When one willingly enters into this world, he demonstrates he is on par with the animal kingdom, enslaved by his emotions. As humans, we are endowed with the gift of the mind, separating us from the animal world. This gift was further refined with the Jewish people’s acceptance of the Torah. Rejecting this outright is, in a sense, lowering one’s existence. Here, we have a clear differentiation in existence, yet in this case, Shimon reduced himself, rather than Reuven expressing a distorted sense of superiority. No doubt, the person should be bothered, troubled by the actions of the sinner. The source of hatred here is linked to Shimon’s rejection of the correct path, and should emerge as a natural consequence of his actions.

Many times we are convinced that certain traits are objectively harmful. A talmid chacham related to this author a story where he was once hearing someone speak about how “zrizus”, an attitude of desiring to accomplish something as soon as the opportunity arises, is an incredible trait. The talmid chacham asked if it was incredible had the person used “zrizus” for sin. In our case, while we may be certain to hate is inherently wrong, the above demonstrates otherwise. Objectifying traits as bad can be misleading, and hatred is no different.