Malbim and Kant (Francis Nataf)
Malbim’s Paean to (Ben Azzai’s) Kantian Ethics
Among several great traditionalists of the 19 th century, Malbim (Rabbi Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel
Wisser 1809-79) embodied a road rarely pursued today. And, for many of us, it is a road sorely lacking:
He was highly learned and loyal to the Jewish tradition on the one hand, but in sophisticated
conversation with the general Western culture of his times on the other. This is well known and has
already been discussed by others.1
Here I will seek to evaluate an often-mentioned, but just as frequently misunderstood, example of
Malbim’s engagement with Western culture – his discussion of Kant’s categorical imperative in
connection with the commandment to love one’s neighbor as oneself (Leviticus 19:18). 2 In doing so, I
will try to tease out Malbim’s understanding of the relationship between Jewish and Kantian ethics.
Along the way, Malbim’s treatment of the topic will serve to demonstrate a model for constructive
engagement with general culture and scholarship.
As a commentator of the Sifra, Malbim’s discussion of Leviticus 19:18 is really a discussion of the
corresponding section of Sifra:
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself” – Rabbi Akiva says, “This is the great principle (klal
gadol) of the Torah.” Ben Azzai says, “’This is the book of the generations of man’ (Genesis 5:1) –
that is a greater principle than it.”
After giving a fairly traditional understanding of Rabbi Akiva’s position and tying it to Hillel’s maxim
(Shabbat 31a) of “What is hateful to you, do not do to others,” Malbim moves on to how this relates to
moral philosophy more generally:
1
See David Berger, “Malbim’s Secular Knowledge and His Relationship to the Spirit of the Haskalah” in
Cultures in Collision and Conversation(Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2019), pp. 167-189; and N. H.
Rosenbloom, Ha-Malbim: Rabbi Meir Leibush Malbim, Parshanut, Filosofia, Madda u-Mistorin be-
Kitvei ha-Rav Meir Leibush Malbim (Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1989).
2
See, for example, Shubert Spero, Morality, Halacha and the Jewish Tradition (New York: Yeshiva
University Press, 1982), p. 205; and Shalom Rosenberg, “You Shall Walk in His Ways,” Edah Journal
2:2, Tammuz 5662, at the beginning.
And the philosophers have already explained that the primary axiom which is the root of moral
philosophy is that one should will that everything that he does be a universal axiom (chok kollel).
This means that that if he should want that evil occur to his fellow so that he will benefit, he
must evaluate it to see if he would want it to be a universal axiom; such that this axiom would
be that everyone may cause damage to their fellows when it brings benefit to themselves. And
this will certainly not be acceptable to him, that damage should be caused to him in order that
benefit come to his fellows. And through this, he too will desist from doing it to his fellow. And
likewise if he is able to benefit his fellow and he desists from it, he must evaluate it to see if he
would want this to be a universal axiom, such that all people would desist from benefitting him.
And this is [the meaning of] that which Rabbi Akiva said, that it is the great principle (klal gadol)
of the Torah. However the critical philosophers questioned this maxim, since this axiom is still
not universal. For according to this, everyone would act on the basis of the benefit to
themselves, whereas it is fitting that all of their actions be on account of axioms of sublime
universal reason without any admixture of personal benefit. And for this reason, Ben Azzai
elevated the axiom to a more sublime matter when he based [it] on "This is the book of the
generations of man."
While we have translated chok kollel here as universal axiom, others have understood it as a
Hebraization of Kant’s categorical imperative. 3 Whether this is correct or not, there is no questioning
their broader claim that the ensuing discussion follows Kant’s arguments about moral philosophy.
This is not the place for a lengthy technical discussion of Kant. 4 Suffice it to say that much of Kant’s work
was about creating objective universal standards for philosophy; and to this, ethics was no exception. In
the case of ethics, true universalization meant that any version of the Golden Rule, 5 for example, could
only be valid if it was completely independent of the desires and/or opinions of the rational actors
3
Again, see Spero and Rosenberg. Malbim’s formulation here certainly echoes Kant’s own words, “Act
only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law.”Immanuel
Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysic of Morals, translated by James W. Ellington (Indianapolis: Hackett,
1994 2nd ed.), p. 30.
4
The interested reader is directed to the helpful yet very brief summary of Kant’s various formulations of
the categorical imperative found in R. David Horwitz, “The Fundamental Principle of the Torah,” YU
Torah, Sivan 5769, pp. 29-30.
5
Variations of the Golden Rule are found in early Greek philosophy, starting with Thales, and in many
later philosophers, as well as in other cultural and religious traditions besides Judaism.
involved.6 Quite clearly, this is also the standard with which Malbim evaluates the positions of Rabbi
Akiva and Ben Azzai.
II
Primarily because the scholars who note Malbim’s deference to Kant here only do so in passing, they
overlook the fact that Malbim tells us that Rabbi Akiva’s position misses the mark and that it is only Ben
Azzai that falls in with Kant’s requirements for a categorical imperative. 7 That such is the case is really
quite clear from a simple reading of Malbim. In his comments, he speaks about an attempt to hold up
Rabbi Akiva’s rendition of the Golden Rule as a categorical imperative. But he then continues to point
out its being brought into question by “the critical philosophers,” who note the deficiency of such a
position given its dependency upon the subjective criteria of the individual (“benefit to themselves”).
They (meaning Kant) therefore reject it and seek something completely rooted in “sublime universal
reason.” 89
To remove any remaining doubt, it should be noted that Malbim equates Rabbi Akiva’s position with
Hillel’s formulation of “What is hateful to you, do not do unto others.” 10 For Malbim’s, this is the
rationale for why it is proclaimed by Rabbi Akiva as a universal principle. Though Kant does not address
Hillel’s classically Jewish variant of the Golden Rule, per se, Malbim would seem to be correct in pointing
out its failure to conform to Kant’s standard. If anything, the Jewish variant is a ‘sitting duck’ for Kant’s
attacks. For while the Torah’s formulation of loving neighbor as self (and Rabbi Akiva’s endorsement of
6
See Michael Sandel’s Justice (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010) pp. 124-125, for a quick
summary of the difference between the two. I thank Dr. William Jacobs for pointing me to this source as
well as for his assistance with this article more generally.
7
As a result, Spero (p.205) is misled into facilely claiming, “This is not, of course, what [Kant] had in
mind.”
8
For a discussion of Kant’s critique of the Golden Rule, see James A. Gould, “Kant’s Critique of the
Golden Rule,” The New Scholasticism, Vol. 57:1 (Winter 1983), pp. 115-122, and “The Golden Rule,”
American Journal of Theology & Philosophy, Vol. 4:2 (May 1983), pp. 73-79.
9
Though he surprisingly fails to mention Malbim, R. David Horwitz follows this very same line of
thinking in explaining the argument between Rabbi Akiva and ben Azzai, “The Fundamental Principle,”
pp. 29-31.
10
Shabbat 31a. Granted, Ahad Ha’am (Kol Kitvei Ahad Ha’am [Jerusalem, 1965], pp. 370-377) and
Spero (pp. 209-211) attempt to transform it into something more in line with abstract Kantian ethics, but
there is no getting away from the very subjective nature of the proposition as it is presented in the
Talmud.
it) may be conceived as one based on a totally abstracted self – thereby setting us a type of universal
standard – Hillel’s explanation of it to a specific individual with whom he was in conversation locates it
back on the plain of an actual self. Specifically, Hillel is asking his interlocutor to reflect on what he does
not like in order for him to understand what he should not do.
Hence, by making this association of Rabbi Akiva and Hillel, Malbim goes out of his way to suggest that –
from a Kantian perspective – Rabbi Akiva’s position is no better than Hillel’s.
III
At the end of his comments, Malbim adds:
According to this theory, the words of Rabbi Akiva follow his own understanding (leshitato),
since he expounds (Sifra Behar 5:43, Bava Metzia 62a), “Your life comes before that of your
fellow.”
The reference is to a classical discussion of Jewish lifeboat ethics, wherein Rabbi Akiva takes the position
that if one owns enough water to save only one person, he is fully justified in taking all of the water for
himself. While both sides of this debate can conceivably be argued from a Kantian perspective, that
itself is quite significant in this context.
The Kantian argument against Rabbi Akiva here would be that there is a categorical imperative of
preventing the death of others, whenever one has that possibility. Bear in mind that even though
sharing the water will likely not save the other person, it will prolong their life. In addition to the infinite
value that can be placed on this in and of itself, that prolongation allows for the unforeseeable – but
almost always theoretically possible – scenario where they will both be rescued at the last minute. On
the other side of the scales (Rabbi Akiva’s position), however, it is clear that the far more likely result of
this scenario is that they will both die. Moreover – and this seems to be what is emphasized by Malbim
here – the determinant of which life should be saved is subjective. For Malbim, this is an extension of
the rationale expressed in Hillel’s version of the Golden Rule.
This is more than a theoretical point: The fact that saving a life does not automatically outweigh a
categorical principle provides an excellent example of what many critics have seen to be a weakness in
Kant’s ethics. According to Kant, categorical imperatives are not dependent on their results. To give
another example, if telling the truth – which is a categorical imperative – kills someone, it must still be
done. 11 And so it is perhaps no coincidence that Malbim reports exactly such a situation in which Rabbi
Akiva comes to the defense of what Kant calls practical reason; essentially saying that saving a life is
more important than a consistent ethic. By doing so, he shows why we should not automatically assume
that the apparently more sophisticated and sublime sounding position of Ben Azzai is worthy of our
sympathies.
IV
Regardless of where Malbim placed his sympathies, it should by now be evident that he unequivocally
rejected the possibility of reconciling Kant with Rabbi Akiva. The flip side of this is that Malbim does
identify Ben Azzai’s position with Kant’s. To what extent he was right and whether Malbim was not just
engaging in an anachronism12 need not concern us now. For our focus here is not how correct his
understandings of Kant and the Jewish tradition were, but rather the implications of these
understandings for our own conception of Jewish ethics.
How we are to understand Malbim’s positioning of Rabbi Akiva’s dominant voice in normative Jewish
thought13 as being in opposition to Kant, while understanding his opponent (which Malbim explicitly also
associates with Ben Petora, Rabbi Akiva’s opponent in the discussion of lifeboat ethics) – i.e. the
dissenting voice – as being aligned with Kant?
The pervious section allows for two possible conclusions about Malbim’s thinking:
See Robert J. Benton, “Political Expediency and Lying: Kant vs Benjamin Constant,” Journal of the
11
History of Ideas
Vol. 43:1 (Jan. - Mar., 1982), pp. 135-144, which discusses the first classical argument against Kantian
ethics. While Benton proposes a contextual defense for Kant, he is working off of the assumption that
Kantian ethics are untenable in such a situation. Also, see Sandel who (presumably unknowingly) chooses
a case right out of Yoreh Deah (337), wherein most people will intuit the moral correctness of the
halacha’s mandate to withhold information that may endanger the life of someone in fragile health, an
action that would arguably violate the categorical imperative to tell the truth.
12
While scholars will no doubt balk at Malbim’s association, there is no reason to categorically dismiss
the possibility that Ben Azzai anticipated Kant, but did so within his own frame of reference and cultural
context.
13
In areas of pure theory, Jewish authorities rarely decide who “we follow,” it being understood that there
is no practical need to make such a decision. That being said, Rabbi Akiva generally carries far greater
weight than Ben Azzai. Moreover, if we – as Malbim actually does – connect this with the discussion of
lifeboat ethics, which revolves around a practical issue, we see that Rabbi Akiva’s position is preferred.
1) The Jewish tradition was aware of Kant’s position (embodied by Ben Azzai/Ben Petora) and
rejected it in favor of a more subjective ethics ultimately rooted in self-interest.
2) Not only was Jewish tradition aware of Kantian ethics, it viewed it as an ideal. Yet since it was
more difficult to convey and put into practice, it was displaced by an inferior but more practical
ethics.14
I am not aware of much evidence in either direction. Yet were we only to look at the comments on
Leviticus 19:18, the second position seems more likely. Not only does Malbim explicitly present the
argument against Rabbi Akiva’s position without rebuttal, he seems to build up the nobility of Ben
Azzai’s position as one in which
All men are bound together like one body. All of them were created in the image of God to
complete the highest image and form which contains the souls of all mankind. All of them are
like one single person, and like one body which is composed of different members.
Sound a little messianic? Perhaps that is the point, meaning that it is set up as an ideal unattainable until
man reaches a higher level of consciousness. In other words, Malbim declares the truth of the Kantian
moral system, while finding a plausible reason for why it should not be accepted as normative.
In the final analysis however, even if we are tempted to conclude that Malbim sympathized with Kant’s
approach to ethics, this did not cause him to lose sight of the fact that the Jewish ethical tradition was
too practical to accept it – at least, for now. In other words, the Jewish tradition chooses an imperfect
system that brings important tangible benefits (i.e. saving lives) over a more consistent truth that comes
at the cost of sacrifices on the highest order. It is, as per the Midrash’s rendering of the words of Daniel,
God flinging truth to the ground.15
Earlier, we mentioned that we were not concerned with the correctness of Malbim’s understanding of
Kant.16 If he did err in some details, he would not have been the first sophisticated reader to have
14
Kant himself acknowledges the advantages of approaches rooted in practical reason, even as he argues
for the need of the categorical imperative.
15
Bereshit Rabbah 8:5 on Daniel 8:12.
16
Nor is it critical whether he came to the ideas by reading them in the German, in translation or only
through secondary sources. All three possibilities were open to him and there does not appear to be
misconstrued some of Kant’s difficult ideas. Regardless, the general contours of his understanding
certainly brought him into the orbit of the likes of Hermann Cohen, who sought to understand the
relationship between the most influential of all modern philosophers and Jewish tradition. That Malbim
could do this with tremendously broad and deep knowledge of all facets of the Jewish tradition made his
engagement all the more valuable.
While its importance may be less evident than it was in the intellectual ferment of 19 th century Europe,
Orthodox Judaism’s lack of serious engagement with contemporary culture comes at a price.
Understanding Jewish tradition in complete isolation from other thinkers is not only artificial, it is
detrimental to the respect we should have for all those who try to advance the human condition.
Moreover, it can – and frequently does – backfire into a situation where Jews critical of their own
heritage lose the respect they should have for a tradition that has dealt profoundly with many of the
same issues discussed by the great philosophers and thinkers of the outside world. For that reason
alone, Malbim represents an important model to ponder more seriously.
