Leadership

THE Tanach (Hebrew Bible) has lot to say about leadership.

In fact, one of the great themes of the very first book of the Torah, Genesis, is the question of who will carry the mantle of leadership? Starting with Abraham, only one child inherits it, and there is great tension as to who the next inheritor will be.

Isaac or Ishmael?

It sounds silly now because we know how the story turns out, but as it unfolded, the jury was still out and the tension high.

Next. Isaac has two sons, too. Will the leader be Jacob or Esau? How will it turn out? Who will inherit the blessing of Abraham?

Finally, there is Jacob. — he has 12 sons. The dynamic changes from all or nothing, from a clear choice of one who will inherit to to more complex and nuanced possibility.

What none of Jacob’s sons understand at the time, contributing to the contentiousness in the narrative with Joseph, is that this time they all will inherit their father’s blessing. Unlike the previous two generations, where one son is rejected and the other is selected, this time is different.

The interactions among 12 brothers are beyond the scope of a column, but from character analysis of these biblical personalities much is gleaned about the qualities of a strong leader. This is one of the great themes in the Joseph narrative — the painful displacement of Reuben, the eldest, from his rightful place in the leadership.

He displays more of a pleaser, weak and equivocating nature, and so his leadership is transferred to his younger sibling, Judah, who consistently — in three dramatic examples — displayed the firm strength of character fundamental to what a leader needs to be.

MOVE into the book of Exodus. The question of leadership asserts itself right away.

Again, it is two siblings. Two brothers. This time, Moses and Aaron.

Moses, the younger of the two, initially resists the call of leadership by G-d, in favor of bestowing the honor upon his older brother, Aaron. Besides, Moses argues, he’s not much of a speaker.

What transpires becomes a model for leadership, as well as a brotherly bond of remarkable and almost unnatural success.

Aaron, the more people-oriented of the two, the one who worships harmony and is of a softer nature, is ultimately just that, a man of the people.
Moses, on the other hand, is the man of G-d, carrying out His word, come what may — unwaveringly, with exactitude and precision, even in the hardest of times.

Of course, it is not quite so simple, for Moses is a man of the people as well — which is what makes him the ideal leader — while Aaron is a man of G-d, too. But what is dominant in each of their personalities is different.

UNDER the biblical section of Prophets, in the book of Judges, we encounter this question of leadership yet again. “Mi ya’ale?” the Israelites want to know at the very outset, “who shall lead us?”

The reply from G-d comes crystal clear: “Yehuda ya’ale.” It shall be the tribe of Yehuda, of Judah.

Unfortunately, this explicit instruction is not heeded. The Israelites go on to embrace leaders who do not hail from this tribe, chosen by G-d for its firm, strong and successful leadership.

Tragically, by the end of this biblical book, society has totally disintegrated. If fact, with the sordid and horrific story of the concubine, the book is sealed as a society resembling Sodom and Gommora.

There is a famous midrash whose gist is that if one is compassionate to the cruel, this displaced compassion will lead to being cruel to the compassionate. If you distort or displace things — if you  are kind to the cruel — this will lead to being cruel to the kind.

So, rolling onto the next biblical book in prophets we encounter another tension-filled story about who will lead and what makes a successful leader. It is the story of Saul and David.

Saul was initially reluctant to take on a post of leadership, but as the story develops we see and understand Saul to be weaker, softer, a man of the people and their needs; while David — the one who ultimately carries the leadership — is firm, a leader for the people. Of course, ultimately he is a conduit for the word of G-d.

Saul loses the leadership because he is overcome by a sense of compassion and keeps the evil Amalekite king alive. This was Saul’s misplaced compassion to the cruel —the nail in the coffin of his leadership.

Clearly, this is an oversimplification. But a noteworthy one, nonetheless.

I always identify with or feel for the aggrieved parties, the vulnerable or the underdog of the world, be it in life or in a story . . . so I actually feel very much for the “Sauls.”

Often the qualities that disqualify one from being a leader can be strengths in and of themselves, can be and are wonderful and beautiful dimensions of a human being — just not appropriate for leadership.

Shabbat Shalom!