Killing for Life: In Pursuit of the Rodef

Adapted from a shiur by Rav Yosef Greenwald

The Great Kanto Earthquake struck Tokyo in 1923 and killed
well over 100,000 people. Even today, it remains the worst natural disaster in
the history of Japan. At the time, the Chafetz Chaim warned that it would be a
tragic error to think that an event so geographically distant from the Jewish
People had nothing to do with us. Everything Hashem does in the world is a
message directed at Klal Yisrael, and we ignore such messages at our
peril.

As the Covid-19 coronavirus wends its way across the globe,
having been upgraded from outbreak to epidemic and now chasing pandemic status,
we would be wise to ponder that message.

The situation also gives rise to halachic dilemmas.

After the tragedy of 9/11, the question arose: If it had
been known that the hijacked planes were being deployed as missiles to attack
occupied buildings, should authorities have shot down the planes before they
could reach their targets? Shouldn’t we kill hundreds in order to save
thousands?

A similar question could be posed here: If an infected
individual is poised to spread the disease, may he be killed in order to
protect the masses if he cannot otherwise be contained?

The Rambam in the fifth perek of Hilchos Yesodei
HaTorah says that all the mitzvos are set aside in the case of danger to
life because the Torah commands vachai bahem, one is to live by the
mitzvos—and not die by them. But in the case of the gimmel chamuros, the
three cardinal sins of idolatry, immorality, and murder, yeihareig v’al
ya’avor, one must be killed rather than offend.

In the case of idolatry and immorality, this is demanded by
the mitzvah of kiddush Hashem, sanctifying Hashem’s name. Murder,
however, must be avoided even on pain of death for a different reason entirely:
mai chazis. “What makes you think your blood is redder than his, maybe
his blood is redder than yours?” One who is ordered to murder another or be
killed must desist from carrying out the order, because there is no way he can
know that his life is more valuable than that of his designated victim.

Number is not a factor is this calculus: If an enemy
surrounds a community and demands that one person be sent out to be killed or
all will die, they may not comply. They may not reason that surely the lives of
all are collectively of greater value than the life of the one sacrificial lamb
they will select.

It would appear, then, that the hijacked passengers may not
be shot out of the sky in a bid to save the numerically superior assemblage in
the target building. Ain dochin nefesh mipnei nefesh, w. We
may not push aside one soul in favor of another. And the fact that the
passengers will die shortly in any case is not a consideration, because the the
murder of a dying man is still murder.

There is only one case where one life may be destroyed to
save another, and that is the rodef or pursuer. We derive this from the ba
bamachteres, the case of the burglar in Parshas Mishpatim. It may be
presumed that a burglar who is active at night plans to kill the homeowner
should he encounter him. Therefore, the burglar’s entry constitutes a threat to
the life of the residents, and his pursuit of them may be terminated with
deadly force. The logic of mai chazis doesn’t apply, because he brought
the situation upon himself (Sanhedrin 74).

A sick man who is approaching healthy
people and will infect them is clearly the cause of the threat and thus a rodef.
But what if he’s unaware he’s ill?

In Sanhedrin 72 we learn that a fetus that threatens its
mother’s life is not a rodef, because mishmaya ka radfi la, they
are pursuing her from Heaven. The fetus isn’t pursuing its mother, a natural
process is doing so. An abortion is performed to save the mother’s life for a
different reason, because the fetus is yet unborn and the mother is born, so
the mother’s life is of greater value. Once the baby’s head emerges, his life
and hers are equal, and because he is not a rodef, he cannot be killed
to save her.

Clearly, a fetus endangering its mother bears no fault. But
that is not offered by the Gemara as the reason not to reckon it a rodef.
A faultless rodef, like the clueless coronavirus carrier, is still a rodef.

The man who would be selected to satisfy the enemy’s
bloodlust in our earlier case is not doing anything to anyone, so he is not a rodef.
The passengers on the plane hurtling toward the building are threatening no
one—only the hijacker flying the plane is doing that. So they’re not rodfim,
either. But it would appear to emerge from the sugya that the virus
carrier, witting or unwitting, is.

May Hashem save us mikol tzara v’tzuka umikol nega
umachala.