Sermon: The White Rose and the Ethic of Non-Indifference

Written by Rabbi Josh Levy — 18 February 2023

At this time (almost exactly this time, in fact) 80 years ago today, a brother and sister, Hans and Sophie Scholl, aged just 24 and 21, were led from the University of Munich by the Gestapo. Within four days, they had both been tried for treason and executed.

 

The Scholl siblings were central figures in the extraordinary story of The White Rose.

Between June 1942 and February 1943 this small group – at its core just five students and one professor – conducted a campaign of non-violent resistance against the Nazi government: writing and distributing six pamphlets in which they called out the coercive nature of the state, asserted the responsibility of ordinary people for the actions against which they had failed to protest – and called on the German people to act, as a matter of national, moral and religious duty.

 

On the morning of 18 February 1943, Hans and Sophie were distributing leaflets at the University.  At 11.00 in the morning, Sophie threw their remaining leaflets from the top floor of the university building down into the hallway – an act that was observed by a university maintenance man, called Jakob Schmid.  Schmid called the Gestapo and had the building sealed.  The Scholls were captured.

Over the next three days they were interrogated.  And in the morning of 22 February they were tried, in a show trial, given no opportunity to speak in their own defence.  They were executed that same afternoon, along with their friend and collaborator in this small act of resistance, a 23-year-old medical student, Christoph Probst.

 

The members of the White Rose were willing to take this extraordinary risk because of a core belief they shared: that failure to protest against injustice – including injustice experienced by others – is to assume responsibility for it.

For some of them, this core belief came out of their religious traditions.  And it is core to our tradition, too – what we might, with Rabbi Donniel Hartman, call ‘the religious ethic of non-indifference’.

 

It is there powerfully in this morning’s portion.

As Alex taught us, Parashat Mishpatim contains within it a deep concern for the vulnerable – an injunction to care about the other, to take responsibility for their needs, to ensure that power is not misused.

 

One of the most powerful sections that Alex read is the following: ‘Kol almanah v’yatom lo t’anun’ – he read – ‘You shall not ill-treat any widow or orphan’.  ‘Im anei t’aneh oto’ – ‘If you do mistreat them’, it continues ‘I will heed their outcry as soon as they cry out to me and My anger shall blaze forth [against you]’

The translation misses an important feature of the text – a shift from plural to singular to plural.  Most of the Covenant Code is in the second person singular – these are laws addressed to each of us individually.  But here, something odd happens.

It states: You (plural – all of you) shall not ill-treat any widow or orphan.  If you (singular – any one of you) do mistreat them… then God’s punishment will come against you (plural – all of you).

Many of the commentators understand this section as asserting collective responsibility for the behaviour of the individual.  That is, the injunction is in the plural as it falls on all of us to make sure that no one person in our community does the act.  We each bear a wider responsibility – not only for our own behaviour but for that of the society in which we live.

So, for example, the 12^th Century commentator Abraham ibn Ezra comments on this verse “If one person afflicts and no one comes to their aid, all are punished.”

In the Chizkuni, the Torah commentary of Rabbi Hezekiah ben Manoah, composed in the mid-13th century we find an elaboration of this same idea: “the reason why the Torah used the plural when exhorting us not to exploit [the vulnerable]… is because so many people are in the habit of doing just that. The Torah includes all the people who witness such exploitation and do not protest it. This is why the penalty for people guilty of this has been written in the plural.”

In other words, Chizkuni adds, just because something has become commonplace, don’t think that there is no guilt in watching it happen and not protesting.  All of us are responsible not only for what we do, but for what we see and do not do anything about, even if it has become common practice.

 

It is this ethic of non-indifference – there so clearly in our texts – that the White Rose so powerfully exemplified.

In the second of the six leaflets that they distributed over those short few months, they explicitly referenced the persecution and murder of Europe’s Jews of which they – like most of the German population – were fully aware:

“The German people slumber on in their dull sleep and encourage these fascist criminals; they give them the opportunity to carry on their depredations… Each wants to be exonerated of guilt, each one continues on his way with the most placid, calm conscience. But he cannot be exonerated… [the German] must evidence not only sympathy; no, much more: a sense of complicity in guilt.  For through his apathetic behaviour he gives these evil men the opportunity to act as they do; he tolerates this “government” which has taken upon itself such an infinitely great burden of guilt; indeed, he himself is to blame for the fact that it came about”

 

Or, as the Talmud puts it, in a text that I have often quoted from this bimah: “Anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of their household and does not, is liable for the transgressions of their household.  Anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of their town and does not, is liable for the transgressions of their town.  Anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of the entire world and does not, is liable for the transgressions of the entire world.”

 

The story of the Scholls and those who joined with them in this small but powerful moment of resistance is an amazing example of human bravery.

It also presents us with a challenge: as we look around our society, people Israel and our world, how should we as individuals and as community respond?  The message of the White Rose, and our portion, and Talmud, is that the one option not open to us is not to respond at all.

This is not a straightforward demand. For us as individuals, or in community.  It is deeply uncomfortable to expose ourselves in this way, especially when things seem complicated.  It is uncomfortable to know that others will disagree, or deny your right to have an opinion – especially in today’s fractious world.  One of the tragedies of the White Rose is that their example has also been appropriated by many of those with fringe or conspiracy opinions.

 

Nonetheless the challenge they present in their example is clear:

To what extent when we consider our religious and moral duties are we prepared to live by them?

What do we understand our personal responsibility to be when we see injustice around us – even, maybe especially when it is carried out by places that we love?

How much are we willing to stand up for that which we believe is right?