Dvar Torah on Parshat Bamidbar

Parshat Bamidbar concerns itself with making the neccessary preparations for the People of Israel's entry into the Land of Israel. The very first order of business is arranging the camp for its travels. The newly-built Tabernacle is placed at the center of the nation, surrounded by the twelve tribes. The arrangement of the tribes around the Tabernacle, their position, their flags, and taking a census of each tribe, is the main order of business for our parsha. The census, giving us the exact numbers of each tribe,  takes up the much of the portion, as it is actually repeated twice. First we are given the numbers for each tribe, and then they are told to us again, in the context of their positions around the camp, under their individual flags. The need for this repetition is unclear, and would seem to need an explanation.

The Ramban (Nachmanides, 1194-1267, Spain and Israel), asks a more basic question about the census: "I don't understand the reason behind this commandment, why God ordered it. There was a need to address the [positioning] of the tribes, because of their banners, but to acertain their number? I don't  know why He commanded that the number [of Israelites] be known." The Ramban then takes a stab at answering his question: perhaps the census is an indication of God's love and care for the Jewish people - when you came down to Egypt you were just seventy people, and after all you've been through, look what a large nation you have become.

He then tries another explanation: Being personally counted by Moshe and his brother Aharon, the high priest, is a life-changing honor. The census functions to include and welcome those who are numbered into the Jewish people, it places them in the Torah, the Jewish people's sacred text. There is a communal and personal merit in being counted by Moshe and Aharon. The Ramban quotes a midrash from Bamidbar Rabbah to this effect. The midrash says that Moshe was prohibited from simply asking the head of each household how many people were in his family. Rather, he had to meet, and count, individually, each and every one of them, as a mark of honor, affection, and respect. 

This is a remarkable take on what is essentially a census. Rather than looking at the counting of the Jewish people as an attepmpt to quantify individuals, to reduce them to a mass of numbers, and thereby taking away their unique individuality, the Torah's census is meant to accomplish just the opposite: to personally introduce each and every adult Jew to their leaders, Moshe and Aharon, to be seen by them, cherished by them, recognized by them. It is, rather than a threat to one's individuality - "they've given you a number and taken away your name", as the song (Secret Agent Man) goes - it is a celebration of each and every individual Jew, a recognition of each Israelite's autonomy and self-hood.

But then, after this beautiful affirmation of the worth, value, and importance of each and every Jew, the Ramban adds another hypothesis about the census: "And it may be that this was commanded in the way that kings do, when going to war, for now [once counted and arranged] they are ready to go to the Land and make war with the kings of the Emorites...and Moshe and the heads of the tribes needed to know the number of combat soldiers, and the number of each one of the tribes...for the Torah does not depend on miracles, that one [soldier] will rout 1,000.

Now, this complicates things. In this last understanding, all Moshe really wanted to know was how many fighters he had, for strategic and tactical reasons. Those counted are no longer individuals, but just numbers in a deadly game - warfare.  This may be unfair, but I can't help but think of the words 'cannon fodder'. How does this fit with the understanding of the census as an affirmation of God's love for the Jewish people, of each Israelite's individual worth, and the notion that Moshe's counting was actually an interaction with each and every Jew, an invitation to each of them to be a part of the Jewish people, the Torah, and Moshe and Aharon's - and God's - world?

It would seem that  this apparent contradiction reveals a basic duality in communal life, which is to say, life. The last theory of the Ramban about the census, that Moshe was commanded to do what all kings do when about to go to war, and look at his subjects as numbers, is a neccessary approach for a successful outcome to the upcoming battles, and expresses a real communal need. This is what you have to do when you are about to go to war. There are times when communal needs demand that we be looked at as numbers, a collective, about to embark on an endeavor which only a unified, soldierly mass of people - not individuals - can successfully attempt. Those who have served in an army know how that experience reduces one to a small cog in a very large machine, and understand that this is the way it has to be, in order to accomplish what an army has to do. 

On the other hand, we are taught by the Ramban's earlier hypothesis about the census, that in times of peace, or for a different, deeper kind of preparation for war, it is crucial that each and every Jew has an individual identity and autonomy, which is honored, cherished, recognized, and noted by society at the very highest of levels. Moshe and Aharon honor the unique individuality of every single citizen, by meeting and counting them  personally, one by one, in what is really an act of love and affirmation. Those individuals are, at times of national emergency or need, called upon to unite into one entity, putting their unique personalities aside, for the good of all. Essentially, however, the census teaches us that we are all individuals, not numbers, but unique individuals who each has his or her own realtionship with our tradition, the Torah, and the nation. This may explain the repetition of the census figures: once counting to emphasize our identity and worth as individuals, and once, in battle formation, our being counted as individuals who come together to become members of a united whole.

Shabbat Shalom, to each and every one of you, all together,

Rabbi Shimon Felix