Fundamental in Jewish theology is the principle of free will, that man is free to choose between good and evil. The argument for this rule is simple: man must have been endowed with this freedom, for otherwise how could one justify divine retribution or reward for bad or good behavior. Moreover, the Torah is quite explicit in recording God’s urging man to choose properly between good and evil: “Behold, I have placed before you [the choice of] life and good [on the one hand] and death and evil [on the other] . . . Choose life!” (Deut. 30:15, 19). The first statement would have been false if man were indeed not possessed of the freedom of choice. The urging of man to make the proper choice would have been farcial and mocking. It is obvious then that man is under no compulsion when it comes to his moral and ethical behavior. “When a human being is conceived the angel who is appointed over his conception brings the germinal seed before the Almighty and asks: ‘What shall it be - strong or weak, wise or foolish, wealthy or poor?’ But nothing is said with regard to its being virtuous or wicked. [That depends on man himself.] As Rav Chanina said: ‘Everything is preordained in Heaven, except for the fear of Heaven.’” (Nidah 16b) (A beautiful postulation of the principle of free will can be found in the Rambam’s Yad Hachazackah, the fifth chapter of “The Laws of Teshuvah.”
In the light of this principle how are we to understand the persistent description by the Torah in this parasha of Pharaoh’s obstinate refusal to release the Jewish people from their bondage as being divinely caused so that, as God said, “I may display these My signs among them, and that you recount in the hearing of your sons and of your sons’ sons how I made a mockery of the Egyptions…” (Exodus 10:1-2) Does this not seem to violate not only our sense of fair play, but also the postulate of free will?
The following solution to the problem is offered by Rambam in the sixth chapter of “The Laws of Teshuvah.”
There are many passages in the Torah and in the Prophets which seem to contradict this principle and because of them many people are erroneously led into thinking that God decrees whether a person should do evil or good and that man is not the master of his own heart in directing himself to wheresoever he might choose. Now let me explain this great fundamental principle so that you will understand all those passages.
When a person, or the people of a nation, sins (and he commits that sin of his own knowledge and will as was stated) then he should be punished and God knows how retribution should be made. For some sins justice ordains that retribution be taken from the sinner in this world - from his body, or his possessions or his young children. For a person’s young children who have not matured and have not reached the age of mitzvoth are as that person’s possessions. There are other sins for which justice ordains that punishment be meted out in the world to come and the sinner suffers no harm in this world. And for still other sins retribution might be taken both in this world and in the world to come.
All this, only if the sinner did not repent. But if he did repent then penitence acts like a shield in the face of punishment. Penitential return like sinning itself is a matter of one’s knowledge and [free] will.
Sometimes, because of a great sin or many sins, justice demands of the True Judge that retribution be taken in the form of barring the way of penitential return to the sinner and denying him the freedom of repenting from his wickedness, since he sinned freely and willfully, so that the sinner might die and perish for the sin which he committed. For this reason it is written in the Torah: “And I shall strengthen Pharaoh’s heart.” Because he sinned of his own will first and oppressed the people of Israel who lived in his land, as it is recorded: “Let us take counsel against him [the people of Israel],” for this reason it was justified to deny Pharaoh the privilege of penitential return so that retribution could be taken of him. Therefore, God stiffened his heart. Then why did God continue to send Moses with messages to Pharaoh urging him to repent and release the Jewish people? God had already told Pharaoh: “I know that you will not free them,” as it is recorded: “As for you and your subjects, I know that you have yet to fear the Lord God (Exodus 9:30); but for this reason have I sustained you, so that I might demonstrate to you my strength.” (Exodus 9:16) The reason for this urging of repentance was to make it known to all who inhabit the world that when God denies someone repentance, the sinner becomes incapable of returning and then dies for his wickedness which he originally committed of his free will.
Interestingly, a careful examination of all the scriptural references to the “stiffening of Pharaoh’s heart,” or variations thereof, remarkably bears out this thesis of Rambam. Observe that for the first five plagues never once is Pharaoh’s obstinacy described in terms of having been caused by God. (See Exodus 7:13, 14, 22, 23; 8:11, 15, 28; 9:7). The first verse that attributes Pharaoh’s stubborn heart to God appears in the plague of sh’chin, the sixth of the ten plagues (Ex. 9:12). Consistently in parashat Bo, God appears as the causative factor of Pharaoh’s obstinacy, (Ex. 10:1, 20, 27; 11:9.10) as well as in Beshalach in the events leading to K’riat Yam Suf (Ex. 14:4, 8). There seems to be only one departure from this pattern of the sixth through the tenth plagues. And that is in the seventh plague, arbeh, where Pharaoh’s strengthening of heart seems to be attributed to himself. But actually, this may not at all be a departure. For immediately following is the opening verse of parashat Bo: “Go to Pharaoh, for I have strengthened his heart. . . “This verse may well refer to the two verses just preceding (i.e. 9:34, 35) as if to say: “It is only illusory that Pharaoh is still responsible for the hardening of his heart. In reality, though, it is now I who am making his heart strong. Pharaoh is no longer capable of doing otherwise.” In other words, the suggestion is here made that the reading of this first verse in parashat Bo should emphasize the word ani (I) rather than hikhbad’ti (have made hard). The correctness of such a reading is actually born out of the neginah (cantillations) which does put the emphasis on ani rather than hikh’bad’ti. We see, therefore, that with a proper reading of this verse there is a perfect consistency in the way the Torah uniformly attributes Pharaoh’s strengthening of heart to himself, in the first five plagues, and to God in the last five plagues. The symmetry of five and five seems also to be a study in poetic as well as real justice.
There are other references to God’s stiffening of Pharaoh’s heart which precede the description of the ten plagues (Exodus 4:21 and 7:3). But these are obviously referring not to the state of affairs as they existed at the time when these statements were being made but are rather descriptions of what will ultimately be the situation at the time when the freedom of the people of Israel will be close at hand.
The verse in Exodus 3:19 wherein God states that “He knows that Pharaoh will not allow you to leave,” which was said before the plagues were begun, actually even before the first approach to Pharaoh was made, should be looked upon as an omniscient statement regarding how Pharaoh will act, freely and of his own volition, at first. The paradox of God’s omniscience and the freedom of man’s will is a difficult one and not in the scope of this paper. It is dealt with by Rambam in “The Laws of Teshuvah,” chapter 5, as well as by many others. At any rate, we assume that any omniscient statement about a person’s behavior, even if it is made by God, is not inconsistent with the postulate that the person is still free to act according to his own choice. Many examples of this paradox are to be found in the scriptures.
Something akin to the thesis of Rambam regarding the loss of free will as a result of having sinned may be found in a dialogue recorded in several Talmudic sources: Rav Huna said: ‘If a man sins and persists in the sin which he committed, the sin in which he persists becomes permissible.’ To this the Talmud comments: ‘Does it actually become permissible? That is not possible!’ ‘You are right. The sinner certainly does not gain permission to commit the sin in which he persists. He only thinks so.’ [That is, he no longer regards it as a sin.]
We might then regard sin and its effect on the person who indulges in it much as a narcotic and its effect upon the addict, or perhaps as cigarettes are to a habitual smoker. A person in his first exposure to them is under no compulsion. He is free to take them or leave them. But by indulging in them, which he does at first with free volition, it becomes increasingly difficult to resist their temptations. And, finally, he becomes “hooked” and totally defenseless, having completely lost his will to resist. This situation, however, is one which he must suffer since he is responsible for having destroyed within himself that God-like quality which he once possessed - his free will.
Something akin to the thesis of Rambam regarding the loss of free will as a result of having sinned may be found in a dialogue recorded in several Talmudic sources: Rav Huna said: ‘If a man sins and persists in the sin which he committed, the sin in which he persists becomes permissible.’ To this the Talmud comments: ‘Does it actually become permissible? That is not possible!’ ‘You are right. The sinner certainly does not gain permission to commit the sin in which he persists. He only thinks so.’ [That is, he no longer regards it as a sin.]
We might then regard sin and its effect on the person who indulges in it much as a narcotic and its effect upon the addict, or perhaps as cigarettes are to a habitual smoker. A person in his first exposure to them is under no compulsion. He is free to take them or leave them. But by indulging in them, which he does at first with free volition, it becomes increasingly difficult to resist their temptations. And, finally, he becomes “hooked” and totally defenseless, having completely lost his will to resist. This situation, however, is one which he must suffer since he is responsible for having destroyed within himself that God-like quality which he once possessed - his free will.
Rabbi Emanuel Gettinger is rabbi of the Young Israel of the West Side and dean of the Elfana Kollel of New York.
YAVNEH STUDIES IN PARASHAT HASHAVUA, edited by Joel B. Wolowelsky, was a 1969-72 project of YAVNEH: THE RELIGIOUS JEWISH STUDENTS ASSOCIATION. The bios here are as they were at the time of the original publication. For a history of YAVNEH, see Benny Kraut, The Greening of American Orthodox Judaism: Yavneh in the 1960s (Cincinnti: Hebrew Union College Press, 2011).