We live in what is known as the Information Age. In this generation through the internet and social media the public has what feels like unlimited access to getting information from and spreading information to everyone, everywhere. Post a story online, get people to share and repost it, and it becomes a reality for whoever has an interest in what the story purports to say. The story – which has been curated as a so-called ‘narrative’ – becomes the basis for their shared sense of identity.
Before the internet, information communicated to the masses was mainly controlled by governments and media organizations. In theory, independent media – the Fourth Estate – held leaders and rulers accountable for their official versions of the news and facts. In practice that did not always work. Governments and media companies had the power to bias their narratives in ways that were self-serving and not in the best interests of a democratic civil society.
With the advent of social media came the idea of a Fifth Estate, of private citizens who could hold leaders and media companies accountable. In theory this was supposed to guarantee what early adopters called ‘[inter]net neutrality’. In practice this, too, turned out to be a false promise. Instead of neutrality, freedom to communicate online has instilled a widely held belief that by forging a narrative, people can create competing realities. Their narratives – based on emotional appeals rather than evidence – are designed to compete with those of their political and ideological adversaries. They have become activists, free to weaponize their story – i.e., use their narrative to get others to join them in hate speech and acts of violence against those who do not share their worldview. They falsely justify such actions as legitimate expressions of free speech and ‘resistance’.
From the Torah’s perspective narratives are meant to reflect and reinforce a single, true understanding of reality. The role of the people is to faithfully transmit the narrative, not to add to, subtract from, or otherwise manipulate the story. Where today’s notion of narratives emphasizes individual rights and identity politics, the Torah’s notion emphasizes one’s duty do what Gd commands us to do and a responsibility to tell the truth.
This is demonstrated in Parshat Chukat through the details of the episode of Moshe and the rock. The Torah records how the people cry out for water and Gd answers. Gd tells Moshe to take his staff and speak to the rock. Moshe and Aharon gather the people and Moshe strikes the rock twice to bring forth water. The people get water, but Gd rebukes Moshe and Aharon for an unspecified transgression saying, “because you did not trust Me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people, therefore you shall not lead this congregation into the land that I have given them.”
Rashi – in a commonly cited interpretation – says that Moshe’s sin was in hitting the rock instead of speaking to it. However, Ramban disagrees for several reasons. He notes that Aharon was punished even though he did not strike the rock. Furthermore, Gd told Moshe to take the staff, presumably for the purpose of striking the rock as he had done earlier in Shemot 17:6.
Ramban says that Moshe’s sin was not his action but in his characterization of the event. Moshe’s sin was in saying, “shall we get water for you out of this rock?” when it was not “we” – Moshe and Aharon – who made the miracle, who extracted the water, it was Gd who executed a miracle. Moshe and Aharon were guilty of a narrative sin; they left out important information. Their version of the unfolding events had a certain objectivity, however, their sin of narrative distortion altered the meaning of the events.
Moshe attempted to impose his angle on what biblically was objectively the story of Gd’s miracle. Later, Moshe records that his transgression was that he improperly took credit through an act of meilah-מעילה – which is like a copyright infringement on a miracle.
עַל֩ אֲשֶׁ֨ר מְעַלְתֶּ֜ם בִּ֗י בְּתוֹךְ֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל בְּמֵֽי־מְרִיבַ֥ת קָדֵ֖שׁ מִדְבַּר־צִ֑ן עַ֣ל אֲשֶׁ֤ר לֹֽא־קִדַּשְׁתֶּם֙ אוֹתִ֔י בְּת֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃
you misused [My miracle] among the Israelite people, at the waters of Meribath-kadesh in the wilderness of Zin, by failing to sanctity Me among the Israelite people. [Devarim (32:51]
This speaks to the core of the Torah perspective on our identity as a people and the responsibility of our leaders and followers. Meilah is the sin of misusing a holy object. In this case, it goes beyond mere inaccurate reportage. It is more serious than taking credit for someone else’s achievements. It is akin to stealing or vandalizing someone’s identity.
We see meilah in the Information Age taking the form of false narratives from official sources and social media. It plays on the way people often associate themselves with the triumph of their ally or idol. For example, people will often speak in the plural first-person “we” in describing how their region’s or school’s team won a big game and got the gold medal; e.g. “we [meaning Canada] beat the Russians in curling!” It is only a small linguistic step from there to falsely taking credit for authoring what was really written by someone else.
If there is any holiness to truth itself, then spreading false narratives is akin to meilah. In the Information Age it is destabilizing to spread narratives that falsely vilify various identity groups – e.g., by race, gender, religion, or nationality. It is today’s vector for the age-old curse of the blood libel. It is a two-step communication process. First, antimsemites get people to identify with their group or cause, then they spread false news about alleged atrocities perpetrated against them by the Jews. That first step – which is the precursor to all kinds of fraud, theft, hate speech, and ultimately murder – involves using mass communication as if it were a device to commit meilah. In other words, it diverts something from a holy purpose to a self-serving, unholy, even evil purpose.
The Torah details for us how even Moshe and Aharon could commit meilah to remind us that anyone – everyone – is susceptible. It is a slippery slope from sloppy reporting to committing a serious moral crime involving something sacred. We are each, after all, part Gd’s work of creation. We need to be mindful of this in how we interpret what our leaders and influencers tell us, and in how we communicate with others.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rosenblatt and Dr. Terry Neiman
