Toward the Other: Emmanuel Levinas, Nine Talmudic Readings

I wish to make yet another comment: the lines you are reading are about forgiveness. But this is only one of countless texts the Talmud devotes to this subject. Therefore, one should not think after hearing me that the Jewish intellectuals of France now know what the Jewish tradition thinks of forgiveness. This is the danger of sporadic explanations of talmudic texts...
— Nine Talmudic Readings by Emmanuel Levinas

יומא פ״ה ב:ז׳

מַתְנִי׳ עֲבֵירוֹת שֶׁבֵּין אָדָם לַמָּקוֹם — יוֹם הַכִּפּוּרִים מְכַפֵּר, עֲבֵירוֹת שֶׁבֵּין אָדָם לַחֲבֵירוֹ — אֵין יוֹם הַכִּפּוּרִים מְכַפֵּר, עַד שֶׁיְּרַצֶּה אֶת חֲבֵירוֹ.

Yoma 85b:7

MISHNA: For transgressions between a person and God, Yom Kippur atones; however, for transgressions between a person and another, Yom Kippur does not atone until he appeases the other person.

Let us evaluate the tremendous portent of what we have just learned. My faults toward God are forgiven without my depending on his good will! God is, in a sense, the other par excellence, the other as other, the absolutely other—and nonetheless my standing with this God depends only on myself. The instrument of forgiveness is in my hands. On the other hand, my neighbor, my brother, man, infinitely less other than the absolutely other, is in a certain way more other than God: to obtain his forgiveness on the Day of Atonement I must first succeed in appeasing him. What if he refuses? As soon as two are involved, everything is in danger.
— Nine Talmudic Readings by Emmanuel Levinas

יומא פ״ז א:י״ג

(וְאָמַר) רַבִּי יוֹסֵי בַּר חֲנִינָא: כׇּל הַמְבַקֵּשׁ מָטוּ מֵחֲבֵירוֹ, אַל יְבַקֵּשׁ מִמֶּנּוּ יוֹתֵר מִשָּׁלֹשׁ פְּעָמִים, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״אָנָּא שָׂא נָא וְעַתָּה שָׂא נָא״. [וְאִם מֵת — מֵבִיא עֲשָׂרָה בְּנֵי אָדָם וּמַעֲמִידָן עַל קִבְרוֹ, וְאוֹמֵר: חָטָאתִי לַה׳ אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְלִפְלוֹנִי שֶׁחָבַלְתִּי בּוֹ.]

Yoma 87a:13

Rabbi Yosei bar Ḥanina said: Anyone who asks forgiveness of his friend should not ask more than three times, as it is stated: “Please, please forgive... And now, please forgive” (Genesis 50:17). [And if the insulted friend dies before he can be appeased, one brings ten people, and stands them at the grave of the insulted friend, and says in front of them: I have sinned against the Lord, the God of Israel, and against so-and-so whom I wounded.]

יומא פ״ז א:ט״ז

רַב הֲוָה לֵיהּ מִילְּתָא בַּהֲדֵי הָהוּא טַבָּחָא, לָא אֲתָא לְקַמֵּיהּ. בְּמַעֲלֵי יוֹמָא דְכִפּוּרֵי אֲמַר אִיהוּ: אֵיזִיל אֲנָא לְפַיּוֹסֵי לֵיהּ. פְּגַע בֵּיהּ רַב הוּנָא, אֲמַר לֵיהּ: לְהֵיכָא קָא אָזֵיל מָר, אֲמַר לֵיהּ: לְפַיּוֹסֵי לִפְלָנְיָא. אָמַר: אָזֵיל אַבָּא לְמִיקְטַל נַפְשָׁא. אֲזַל וְקָם עִילָּוֵיהּ. הֲוָה יָתֵיב וְקָא פָלֵי רֵישָׁא, דַּלִּי עֵינֵיהּ וְחַזְיֵיהּ, אֲמַר לֵיהּ: אַבָּא אַתְּ? זִיל, לֵית לִי מִילְּתָא בַּהֲדָךְ. בַּהֲדֵי דְּקָא פָלֵי רֵישָׁא, אִישְׁתְּמִיט גַּרְמָא וּמַחְיֵיהּ בְּקוֹעֵיהּ וְקַטְלֵיהּ.

Yoma 87a:16

It is further related that Rav had words with a certain butcher. The butcher did not come before him. On Yom Kippur eve, Rav said: I will go and appease him. He met his student Rav Huna, who said to him: Where is my master going? He said to him: I am going to appease so-and-so. Rav Huna said: Abba [Rav] is going to kill a person. Rav went and stood by him. He found the butcher sitting and splitting the head of an animal. The butcher raised his eyes and saw him. He said: Are you Abba? Go, I have no words for you. While he was splitting the head, one of the bones flew out and struck him in the throat and killed him.

Rab goes out of his way to provoke a crisis of conscience in the slaughterer of livestock. The task is not easy! Rab’s disciple, whom he meets on the way, is aware of this... Rav Huna is convinced that the slaughterer will not be moved by Rab’s gesture, which will only aggravate the fault of the slaughterer... The game of offense and forgiveness is a dangerous one...
It is certainly not of a miracle that the story wants to tell us but of this death within the systems in which humanity closes itself off. It also wants to speak to us of the purity which can kill, in a mankind as yet unequally evolved, and of the enormity of the responsibility which Rab took upon himself in his premature confidence in the humanity of the Other.
— Nine Talmudic Readings by Emmanuel Levinas

יומא פ״ז ב:א׳-ג׳

אֲתָא רַבִּי חִיָּיא — הֲדַר לְרֵישָׁא. עֲיַיל בַּר קַפָּרָא — הֲדַר לְרֵישָׁא. אֲתָא רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בְּרַבִּי — הֲדַר לְרֵישָׁא. אֲתָא רַבִּי חֲנִינָא (בַּר) חָמָא, אָמַר: כּוּלֵּי הַאי נֶהְדַּר וְנֵיזִיל? לָא הֲדַר. אִיקְּפִיד רַבִּי חֲנִינָא, אֲזַל רַב לְגַבֵּיהּ תְּלֵיסַר מַעֲלֵי יוֹמֵי דְּכִפּוּרֵי וְלָא אִיפַּיַּיס. וְהֵיכִי עָבֵיד הָכִי? וְהָאָמַר רַבִּי יוֹסֵי בַּר חֲנִינָא: כׇּל הַמְבַקֵּשׁ מָטוּ מֵחֲבֵירוֹ אַל יְבַקֵּשׁ מִמֶּנּוּ יוֹתֵר מִשָּׁלֹשׁ פְּעָמִים! רַב שָׁאנֵי. וְרַבִּי חֲנִינָא, הֵיכִי עָבֵיד הָכִי? וְהָאָמַר רָבָא: כׇּל הַמַּעֲבִיר עַל מִדּוֹתָיו — מַעֲבִירִין לוֹ עַל כׇּל פְּשָׁעָיו! אֶלָּא: רַבִּי חֲנִינָא חֶלְמָא חָזֵי לֵיהּ לְרַב דְּזַקְפוּהוּ בְּדִיקְלָא, וּגְמִירִי דְּכֹל דְּזַקְפוּהוּ בְּדִיקְלָא — רֵישָׁא הָוֵי. אָמַר: שְׁמַע מִינַּהּ בָּעֵי לְמֶעְבַּד רְשׁוּתָא וְלָא אִיפַּיַּיס, כִּי הֵיכִי דְּלֵיזִיל וְלִגְמַר אוֹרָיְיתָא בְּבָבֶל.

Yoma 87b:1-3

Rabbi Ḥiyya, Rav’s uncle and teacher, came in, whereupon Rav returned to the beginning of the portion and began to read it again. Afterward, bar Kappara came in, and Rav returned to the beginning of the portion out of respect for bar Kappara. Then Rabbi Shimon, son of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, came in, and he returned again to the beginning of the portion. Then, Rabbi Ḥanina bar Ḥama came in, and Rav said to himself: Shall I go back and read so many times? He did not return but continued from where he was. Rabbi Ḥanina was offended. Rav went before Rabbi Ḥanina on Yom Kippur eve every year for thirteen years, but he would not be appeased.

How could Rav act this way? Didn’t Rabbi Yosei bar Ḥanina say: Anyone who requests forgiveness from another should not ask more than three times? The Gemara answers: Rav is different.

And how could Rabbi Ḥanina act this way? Didn’t Rava say: With regard to anyone who suppresses his honor and forgives someone, God pardons all his sins? Rather, this is what happened: Rabbi Ḥanina saw in a dream that Rav was being hung on a palm tree, and he learned that anyone about whom there is a dream in which he was being hung on a palm tree will become the head of a yeshiva. He said: Learn from this that he must eventually become the head of the yeshiva. I will not be appeased, so that he will have to go and study Torah in Babylonia.

The Gemara’s explanation of Rav Hanina’s behavior makes me ill at ease. Rav Hanina had a dream in which Rab appeared, hanging from a palm tree. Whoever appears thus in a dream is destined to sovereignty. Rav Hanina could foresee the future sovereignty of Rab, that is to say, his becoming head of the academy. (Is there another sovereignty for a Jew?) Thus, Rav Hanina, having guessed that Rab would succeed him, preferred to make him leave. A petty story!
This makes no sense. Our text must be understood in another way. I worked hard at it. I told my troubles to my friends. For the Talmud requires discourse and companionship. Woe to the self-taught! Of course one must have good luck and find intelligent interlocutors. I thus spoke of my disappointment to a young Jewish poet, Mrs. Atlan. Here is the solution she suggests: Whenever we have dreams, we are in the realm of psychoanalysis and the unconscious... Now, in the story that is troubling us, what is at stake? Rab recognizes his fault and asks Hanina for forgiveness. The offended party can grant forgiveness when the offender has become conscious of the wrong he has done. First difficulty: the good will of the offended party. We are sure of it, given the personality of Rab Hanina. Why then is he so unbending? Because there is another difficulty: Is the offender capable of measuring the extent of his wrongdoing? Do we know the limits of our ill will? And do we therefore truly have the capacity to ask for forgiveness? No doubt Rab thought he had been a bit brusque in refusing to begin his reading of the text again when Rav Hanina bar Hama, his master, came into the school. But Rav Hanina finds out through a dream more about Rab than Rab knew about himself. The dream revealed Rab’s secret ambitions, beyond the inoffensive gesture at the origin of the incident. Rab, without knowing it, wished to take his master’s place. Given this, Rav Hanina could not forgive. How is one to forgive if the offender, unaware of his deeper thoughts, cannot ask for forgiveness? As soon as you have taken the path of offenses, you may have taken a path with no way out. There are two conditions for forgiveness: the good will of the offended party and the full awareness of the offender. But the offender is in essence unaware. The aggressiveness of the offender is perhaps his very unconsciousness. Aggression is the lack of attention par excellence. In essence, forgiveness would be impossible...
But perhaps there is something altogether different in all this. One can, if pressed to the limit, forgive the one who has spoken unconsciously. But it is very difficult to forgive Rab, who was fully aware and destined for a great fate, which was prophetically revealed to his master. One can forgive many Germans, but there are some Germans it is difficult to forgive. It is difficult to forgive Heidegger. If Hanina could not forgive the just and humane Rab because he was also the brilliant Rab, it is even less possible to forgive Heidegger. Here I am brought back to the present, to the new attempts to clear Heidegger, to take away his responsibility—unceasing attempts which, it must be admitted, are at the origin of this colloquium.
— Nine Talmudic Readings by Emmanuel Levinas