Many commentators have noted the strange language that introduces the commandment to appoint a king. It is first couched in the suspect call of the Jewish people “to be like all of the nations around us” (Devarim 15:14). Moreover, it seems to be something that comes into place only if the Jews request it (see Netziv). From the time of the Talmud, some commentators have seen this as a sign of the Torah’s reticence – or worse – to allow the Jews to have a king.
It is true that the establishment of kings came to answer a historical need. Before the kings, the Judges were less spiritually vulnerable; but they were also politically less effective. With the exception of Joshua, the entire period from Moshe to Saul is a period of largely ineffective – though often more religiously sensitive – political leadership.
With the kings, this is flipped on its head. The king, who needs to concentrate on the affairs of a state, is less connected with Divine moral imperatives and more isolated from God’s direct criticism. In a word, he is more “secular” than the national leaders that preceded his era. In time, this trend even reinforced itself. To the extent that the kings became used to their secular role and depended on the prophets to fill in the gaps, the secularity of the kings became more pronounced.
While not every Judge was a great role model, there is no question that – as a group – they remained much more loyal to the Torah and its tenets. It is not for naught that Biblical legislation anticipates the difficulty that a king will have in maintaining the highest sense of morality by placing extra laws and prohibitions upon him. No doubt, the temptations that come from power are a major part of the Torah’s concern here. But this is not the only factor involved. A king’s concern with statecraft and his corresponding inability to attend to the spiritual leadership is at least as responsible for the problem.
Who was the Judge? As opposed to the king, he was an essentially apolitical individual. He neither sought leadership nor spent significant efforts on its administration. He came to fulfill a temporary purpose and when it was finished, he or she returned back to private life. Even Judges like Joshua and Samuel, who were heavily involved in leadership throughout their lives, did not set up an administration and – like their teacher Moshe – did not seek to establish a coherent state apparatus. Since less was expected from the Judge politically, more was expected spiritually. He could be a complete and well integrated religious personality.
Of course, we are not saying that nothing was expected of the kings. They were expected to toe the line like any other Jew and, because of their place in the public limelight, perhaps even more so. They were also expected to use their administrative powers to enforce Jewish law and promote its spirit. But all of this was to be done from the position of a religious layman.
At the end of the day, a professional leader, one who is only indirectly connected to the moral impulse can easily turn into an Ahab or a Menashe. Seeing this again and again with the kings of Israel and Yehudah, we get a clear indication that the type of separation of realms that was ushered in with the Jewish monarchy comes at a very high cost indeed.
{This essay is a condensed version of an original, unpublished, longer essay by Rabbi Francis Nataf, with editorial support from Harry Glazer}