Shoftim 11: Vows, Leadership, and Sacrifice

Ori Bach

Shoftim 11: Vows, Leadership, and Sacrifice^[1]

For the first ten chapters of Sefer Shoftim, the stories have largely focused on Benei Yisrael’s cycle of oppression at the hands of foreign nations, and eventual liberation by means of military victory. At first glance, the eleventh perek can be categorized along with the rest of these stories as a historical and political tale. However, a deeper look suggests a different interpretation.

The eleventh perek of Shoftim features Benei Yisrael facing a new adversary, the nation of Ammon. Lacking any semblance of military organization, the elders of Benei Yisrael approach Yiftah, an experienced warrior who was cruelly expelled by his half-brothers, to serve as their general (Shoftim 11:2–5). With war between the two nations imminent, Yiftah vows to God, promising that if he wins, he will offer the first thing that passes through his door as an olah, an offering that is completely burnt (11:30–31). Following a swift defeat of Ammon, Yiftah returns home to find his only daughter coming out of the house to celebrate her father’s victory (11:34). The perek concludes with Yiftah fulfilling his vow (it is unclear precisely how he fulfills it), followed by a mournful epilogue (11:39–41).

Perhaps the most striking thing about this perek is the lack of attention given to the war. While most of the previous stories in Shoftim revolve around a military conflict, the war in the eleventh perek takes up a mere two pesukim (11:31–32). Furthermore, instead of concluding the perek after the decisive victory, the text proceeds to discuss in detail the aftermath of Yiftah’s vow. All of this points to the natural conclusion that the perek is not about the war. Rather, its focus seems to be more about what sets Yiftah apart from the other Shoftim: his vow. As such, this article will mainly explore the question of how to understand Yiftah’s vow and how that reflects upon the character of Yiftah as a whole.

Yiftah’s Vow
When discussing Yiftah’s vow, one question stands out. Despite also facing war, none of the other Shoftim made vows, yet God still helps them. This begs the question: what is the impetus for Yiftah’s (seemingly unique) vow? The pesukim may provide the beginning of an answer.

(30) And Yiftah made the following vow to the LORD: “If you deliver the Ammonites into my hands. (31) Then whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me on my safe return from the Ammonites shall be the LORD’s and shall be offered by me as a burnt offering.” (Shoftim 11:30–31)

Interestingly, there seems to be a clear parallel between Yiftah’s vow in Shoftim and Yaakov’s vow in Bereshit 28:20. Firstly, both characters face imminent danger: Yaakov is fleeing for his life from his brother Esav, and Yiftah is about to go to war. Moreover, both characters invoke the classical language used in vows: in the case of Yiftah, the pasuk states, “And Yiftah made the following vow to the LORD” (Shoftim 11:30); in the case of Yaakov, the pasuk states, “And Yaakov made the following vow to the LORD” (Bereshit 28:20). Finally, both characters mention shevut shalom (returning safely) in their vows—Yiftah with the phrase “on my safe return” (Shoftim 11:31) and Yaakov with the phrase “and I return safe” (Bereshit 28:20). In light of these similarities, is it possible that, given Yaakov’s success, Yiftah uses Yaakov’s vow as precedent to make one of his own in a similar time of need?

Furthermore, another parallel that certainly strengthens this idea is Benei Yisrael’s vow prior to their war with Arad. The situation and language used are identical.

(30) And Yiftah made the following vow to the LORD: “If you deliver the Ammonites into my hands…” (Shoftim 11:30)

(2) Then Israel made a vow to the LORD and said, “If You deliver this people into our hand, we will proscribe their towns.” (Bamidbar 21:2)

In both cases, Benei Yisrael face an imminent threat from the nations of Ammon and Arad, respectively. Moreover, both parties invoke the same language when making their vows and requesting delivery from the enemy, perhaps indicating some connection.

Another point that makes this more compelling stems from evidence suggesting that Yiftah was aware of this event. In his negotiations with Ammon, Yiftah delineates a detailed account of Benei Yisrael’s conquests before entering Israel that, in comparison to the original pesukim in Bamidbar, matches almost perfectly.^[2] Given Yiftah’s clear knowledge of history, it is reasonable to assume he knew of the war with Arad, as it happened around the same time. Thus, it is possible to posit that Yiftah, aware of the past success of making a vow in a time of need, replicates this process in a desperate plea to secure victory over Ammon.

Righteousness or Excess Piety?
Having established a potential reason for Yiftah’s vow, it is important to explore how it is formulated in the pesukim. When analyzing the text itself, a clear parallel develops between this story of sacrifice and the paradigmatic example of biblical sacrifice: the Akedah (sacrifice of Yitzhak). In his vow, Yiftah states that he will bring an olah: “…shall be offered by me as a burnt offering” (Shoftim 11:31). Similarly, Hashem commands Avraham to bring Yitzhak as an olah: “…offer him there as a burnt offering” (Bereshit 22:2). Furthermore, both Yiftah’s daughter and Yitzhak are identified as only children: regarding Yiftah’s daughter, “beside her he had neither son nor daughter” (Shoftim 11:34); and regarding Yitzhak, “your [Avraham’s] only son” (Bereshit 22:2). Finally, both stories feature the child calling to the father, avi (my father), possibly marking the point when both children comprehend their looming fate.^[3] Given the similar nature of the stories, it can be asked: why does one end in tragedy while the other does not?

At first glance, one critical difference stands out: in the story of the Akedah, Hashem commands Avraham to sacrifice Yitzhak, while Yiftah, on the other hand, chooses to sacrifice his daughter on his own accord. However, did Yiftah truly choose to sacrifice his daughter!? He intended to sacrifice an animal, assuming that it would be an animal, not his daughter, to walk through the door! While this is a valid approach to understanding the perek—reading the story as a tragic coincidence that warns against ambiguous speech—there are various reasons to reject it.^[4] Firstly, there is no mention in the perek of Yiftah owning any farmland or animals. Moreover, even if Yiftah did own animals, he explicitly states “from the door of my house” (Shoftim 11:31). It is quite unusual for one to keep livestock inside their house, suggesting a potentially darker reading of the perek: Yiftah intended to sacrifice the first member of his household he saw.

Ultimately, even if one claims that Yiftah did not initially intend to sacrifice a person, it remains true that Yiftah made a choice to do so. This is proven from the following question asked by certain commentaries: Why does Yiftah not perform hatarat nedarim,^[5] a halakhic mechanism that allows for the undoing of certain vows?^[6] Had he done so, he would not have been bound to his vow—he could have prevented himself from being forced to kill his daughter. To answer this, it is necessary to explain a crucial condition needed to enact hatarat nedarim: one must wish they had never made the vow in the first place. Clearly, Yiftah must have not regretted making the vow—perhaps fearing the possibility that they would have lost the war otherwise—and he is therefore unable to perform hatarat nedarim.^[7] In essence, Yiftah chooses Benei Yisrael’s victory over his daughter’s life.

Thus, the perek can be understood as a vitriolic criticism of Yiftah’s choice. While military triumph is desirable, nothing can justify the heinous act of human sacrifice. This fits very nicely with the Akedah parallel, as commentaries propose that the whole purpose of the Akedah is to distinguish between the pagans who valued human sacrifice and the God of Israel, who detests it.^[8] Accordingly, Yiftah’s flaw is misunderstanding the story of the Akedah and viewing human sacrifice as a legitimate form of worship instead of the abhorrent act it is. This reading fits particularly well with the text. The mention of the “so it became a custom” (11:39) that follows the death of Yiftah’s daughter functions as a nationwide ban on human sacrifice.^[9] The mournful tone of the end of the perek reflects the nature of the story as a tragedy of overpiety and a misconception of God’s will. In addition, the words of the prophet Yirmiyahu nicely complement this understanding of the narrative’s message:

(31) And they have built the shrines of Topheth in the Valley of Ben-hinnom to burn their sons and daughters in fire—which I never commanded, which never came to My mind. (Yirmiyahu 7:31)

Within this first reading, it is possible that the perek is not only an individual criticism of Yiftah but also a critique of the state of the nation as a whole. During the times of Moshe, clear standards existed as to what was valid divine worship and what was not. However, during the time period of the Shoftim, the line between these two is blurred, which attests to spiritual and moral decline.^[10]

A second approach exists within the framework of the Akedah parallel that, unlike the first, praises Yiftah’s ultimate dedication and sacrifice. Instead of an aberration, Yiftah’s vow represents the ultimate altruistic act, saving the nation from decimation at the hands of Ammon. Here, the Akedah parallel exists to elevate Yiftah. If Avraham is held in such high regard for being willing to sacrifice his only child, then surely Yiftah, who goes through with sacrificing his child, should be held in even higher regard! In this reading, the only thing that matters is utter devotion to God, while the means by which one expresses that devotion is irrelevant. Thus, Yiftah’s actions become not only justified but also righteous and praiseworthy. Admittedly, this approach proves difficult to fit within the text. Although the “so it became a custom” (11:39) can be combined with the next pasuk to refer to the young girls who would annually visit in memory of Yiftah’s daughter, the perek’s doleful epilogue nonetheless seems to frame the whole perek as a tragedy, rendering this reading unlikely.

That is not to say that the first approach possesses no flaws. Indeed, both explanations fail to address several difficulties in the perek. In particular, one enigma is the strange language found toward the end of the perek. While Yiftah vows to sacrifice whatever appears from his house as an olah (burnt offering), his daughter “bewails her maidenhood” (11:31; 37). If she is about to die as Yiftah’s vow suggests, she should be crying for her life, not her maidenhood. Similarly, the specific mention that “she had never known a man” seems odd, given her tragic fate (11:41). This ambiguity certainly requires some clarification,^[11] which neither approach provides on its own.^[12]

Another weakness of these approaches is that, while the perek includes Yiftah’s backstory as well as a lengthy account of the negotiations with Ammon and the elders—which together form the majority of the perek—there is, from the perspectives proposed up until this point, no natural connection between the proposed ethos of the perek and its other components. Given these difficulties, there may be room to suggest an additional approach to understanding the perek.

The Lone Wolf
The perek opens by describing Yiftah’s difficult childhood. Born a bastard, he is chased away by his brothers who do not accept him as family. Following his banishment, he settles in a separate, isolated land where other “empty” people exiled by society join him (11:1–3). Yiftah’s life embodies what it means to be an outsider. He is alone and alienated by those around him. As a result, Yiftah develops a strong sense of independence. With no family or nation to rely on, Yiftah is forced to become completely self-reliant. This mentality ultimately defines his character throughout the rest of the perek.

Some time after his challenging upbringing, the elders of Benei Yisrael ask Yiftah to be their general. It is apparent from Yiftah’s reaction to their request that he harbors negative feelings toward them:

(7) Yiftah replied to the elders of Gilead, “You are the very people who rejected me and drove me out of my father’s house. How can you come to me now when you are in trouble?” (11:7)

Despite being banished by his half-brothers, Yiftah indignantly confronts the elders over his past treatment. Clearly Yiftah is resentful of their inaction, as they stood idly by while he was unjustly pushed away. Thus, Yiftah views their call as a desperate measure stemming from a dire need, not from any preexisting relationship. They did not care about him then, so why now?

The elders respond to Yiftah by reaffirming their commitment to him and offering him the position of rosh (leader). Interestingly, this differs from the initial offer of the position of katzin (commander). Several verses later (11:6–8; 11:11), the people appoint Yiftah as both rosh and katzin (commander and chief). These are clearly two different roles, as Yiftah rejects the first offer and accepts the second. Yiftah has no reason to trust the elders’ affirmation of loyalty given their desperation and track record. Therefore, the reason Yiftah accepts must be due to a desire to be in the position of rosh, which—as opposed to a military katzin—refers to a broader position of political leadership.

It seems from the pesukim that the elders’ offer is dependent upon Yiftah leading them to victory (11:8). In the next pasuk, Yiftah seemingly accepts the offer, stating, “If you bring me back to fight the Ammonites and the LORD delivers them to me, I am to be your leader” (11:9).^[13] However, this cannot be true, as Yiftah is appointed as both rosh (leader) and katzin (general) before the start of the battle. If their agreement is conditional on victory, as the pasuk suggests, then Yiftah should be appointed rosh only afterward.

Rather, it is possible Yiftah’s reply is not one of agreement but rather a declaration of fact (11:9). If he wins he will be their leader—not by virtue of the elders, but because victorious military leaders are beloved by their nation and are naturally appointed by the people as leaders, as seen in the case of Gidon.^[14] Yiftah is thus refusing their offer, noting that if he wins he will become leader regardless of them. Therefore, the elders are forced to appoint Yiftah immediately as both political leader and military leader. Only upon being granted immediate political and military powers is Yiftah satisfied.^[15]

One key question arising from this exchange is why Yiftah wants power immediately. There are several possible motivations for Yiftah’s demands. The first is that Yiftah fears being banished again once the war is over. He therefore requires assurance, in the form of a promise of a position of leadership, that he will not be cast away. However, this does not explain why Yiftah is discontent with being appointed leader after the war.

A second possibility is that Yiftah demands reparations for the injustice done to him.^[16] While he feels some degree of loyalty to Benei Yisrael, he remains resentful of his past treatment and therefore requires an admittance of guilt and corrective measures. Here too, it is not clear why Yiftah is concerned with being appointed immediately.

A third understanding is that Yiftah bears absolutely no fealty to Benei Yisrael. With no inherent motivation to fight, Yiftah requires an incentive. In short, he is not a brother in arms but a mercenary for hire, and he therefore negotiates the optimal reward: immediate leadership.

An alternative approach is that Yiftah’s actions are neither a direct response to the past, nor are they indicative of a defection from Benei Yisrael. Rather, Yiftah serving as general in the first place is contingent upon having complete control, hence requiring the position of rosh. Long accustomed to total self-reliance and independence, this mode of operation has become an inextricable part of Yiftah’s character. Yiftah cannot simply serve as general; rather, he must also serve as the all-in-one representative of Benei Yisrael. This is why Yiftah requires immediate control. While Yiftah identifies with the nation on an abstract level, he struggles in practice to be part of it, resorting to acting alone. In other words, while Yiftah is “on the team,” he is not a “team player.” As such, it must be Yiftah who leads the negotiations with the King of Ammon, once again revealing his over-independence and borderline egotism:

(27) I (anokhi) have done you no wrong; yet you are doing me harm and making war on me. May GOD, who judges, decide today between the Israelites and the Ammonites! (11:27)

The use of the word anokhi, connoting an added sense of importance, hints at Yiftah separating himself from the nation. In truth, this is a war between himself and Ammon. This explains why certain characteristics typically found in biblical descriptions of war are absent. For instance, there is no mention of the number of troops in Benei Yisrael’s army. This is because an army is the ultimate symbol of a nation. In a sense, it serves as a nation’s agent, its representative to the rest of the world. Since this is not a fully national war but rather one fought by an individual, the anomalous description of the war now makes sense.

Most importantly, Yiftah’s separation is also evident in his vow. Looking back at Benei Yisrael’s vow before the battle with Arad, the only difference in language between the two lies in how the vow is made: in Bamidbar, Benei Yisrael make the vow collectively, whereas Yiftah—remaining true to his character—makes the vow alone.

(28) Then Israel made a vow to the LORD and said, “If You deliver this people into our hand, we will proscribe their towns.” (Bamidbar 28:1)

(30) And Yiftah made the following vow to the LORD: “If you deliver the Ammonites into my hands…” (Shoftim 11:30)

In reality, there is no problem with the vow itself. What is problematic, however, is Yiftah making the vow alone, thereby separating himself from the nation. Interestingly, the condition stipulated in Benei Yisrael’s vow is the burning of Arad’s cities, which strikingly resembles an olah, the same offering made by Yiftah. Because Benei Yisrael take the vow as one nation, their sacrifice is a national olah. In contrast, Yiftah takes the vow alone and accordingly must offer a personal olah. Had he truly united with Benei Yisrael, the burden of the vow would have been spread across the whole nation instead of falling solely on him. In the end, Yiftah’s independent, lone-wolf mindset and secession from Benei Yisrael are his tragic flaw, ultimately leading to the sacrifice of his daughter.

While presenting the first reading of the perek, the question of why Yiftah does not perform hatarat nedarim was posed. In addition to the aforementioned answer, which claimed that—while saddened—Yiftah lacked full regret and effectively chose the victory over his daughter, the Midrash offers a different answer that seems to support our new read of the perek:

Was Pinhas not present to undo his vow? Rather, Pinhas said, “He needs me (to undo the vow) and I am supposed to come to him (rather he should come to me)?” And Yiftah said, “I am the commander and leader and I am supposed to come to him?” (Bereshit Rabbah 60:3)

What emerges from this midrash is staggering. Although able to undo his vow, Yiftah chooses not to—not out of nationalistic motivations or moral convictions, but rather out of pure ego. In essence, Yiftah chooses himself over his daughter, directly resulting in her death. Consumed by self-sufficiency, individualism, and hubris, Yiftah cannot fathom displaying reliance upon or deference to others. Doing so would show that he is part of society, one of Benei Yisrael. Once again, it becomes apparent Yiftah does not see himself as part of the nation, but rather above it—above their leader and, perhaps in his mind, above their superior. Arrogance and a need for independence corrupt him to such an extent that he refuses to sacrifice either for that which he values most.

In addition to faulting Yiftah, the midrash seemingly criticizes Pinhas as well, perhaps hinting that it was not only Yiftah who embodied these traits, but rather that he represented a larger epidemic within society. Thus, the two leaders’ obsession with status, self-importance, and individualism perhaps also reflects the state of the kingless nation. Lacking any central unity, the fractured Benei Yisrael become self-centered, veering away from the Torah’s precepts of unity and empathy.

One question that remains is the fate of Yiftah’s daughter, in light of the ambiguous language utilized by the text. While the simple reading suggests that she is killed as a sacrifice, some commentaries reject this understanding.^[17] Instead of understanding the phrase “shall be offered by me as a burnt offering” (11:31) as a single unit describing a sacrificial offering, they translate the Hebrew letter vav at the beginning of ve-ha’alitihu—“shall be offered”—to mean “or,” separating between two different options.^[18] The new sentence reads as follows: “If that which walks through the door is fit to be an olah, it shall be sacrificed as such. However, if it is unfit, it will be for God.” Within this new understanding, Yiftah’s daughter, being unfit for an olah, is instead designated to God. What exactly is this designation? It is a life of separation and loneliness.^[19] Given this, the mentions of her crying over her maidenhood and being a virgin (11:37; 39) make perfect sense, as her inability to marry is the essence of the sacrifice.^[20] The Hebrew word for marriage, kiddushin, also means designation. Because she is designated to God, she is unable to be designated to another.

Applying this to the larger framework of the reading, perhaps there is room to suggest that this signifies a middah ke-neged middah, or an action befitting a consequence. Since Yiftah separated himself from the nation and acted alone, he and his daughter in turn become separated and alone. Accordingly, this reading criticizes Yiftah’s selfish, lone-wolf way of life and emphasizes the importance of national unity during a time when it was severely lacking.

Conclusion
To conclude, this article has offered three different approaches to understanding this perek. The first is to view the perek as a criticism of and warning against overpiety and improper worship. The second interpretation offers praise for genuine religious sacrifice, viewing Yiftah’s zealous act as laudable, justified, and altruistic. The third forewarns against secession from the nation, discouraging a selfish, misguided, and individualistic attitude in favor of promoting unity among the people. Most probably, there is some truth to all of these ideas. Genuine religious sacrifice is important, and excessive pietistic behavior that violates the norms of divine worship should be frowned upon. But perhaps even more importantly, a leader must be part of his nation, interested in the good of his people, not his own ego and benefit.

^[1] An immense debt of gratitude is owed to R. Chanoch Waxman for his wisdom, patience, and guidance, without which this article would not be possible.

^[2] Yiftah’s delineation is found in Shoftim 11:14–27.

^[3] After receiving the terrible news, Yiftah’s daughter’s reply begins: “And she said to him, ‘My father’” (11:36). In similar fashion, after collecting the wood and knife for the sacrifice, Yitzhak remarks as follows: “Then Isaac said to his father Avraham, ‘Father!’” (Bereshit 22:7). He then proceeds to inquire as to where the sheep are that they are going to sacrifice.

^[4] The Gemara on Taanit 4a seemingly takes this approach.

^[5] There is a debate in Bereshit Rabbah 60:3 as to whether Yiftah’s vow takes effect to begin with. R. Yohanan holds that the vow did indeed take effect and that he is required to pay his daughter’s monetary value. Resh Lakish states he is not required to pay anything, seemingly holding that since the vow is against the Torah’s laws it does not take effect.

^[6] Malbim on Shoftim 11:35. Da’at Mikra (to 11:35, s.v. lashuv) explains that back then they were very stringent regarding vows and rarely undid them.

^[7] Malbim on Shoftim 11:36, s.v. va-tomer eilav.

^[8] R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, Bereshit 22:2–10; R. Abraham Isaac Kook, Olat Re’iyah; R. Jonathan Sacks in his article “The Binding of Isaac” makes this argument as well. Another understanding of the Akedah that may have interesting implications on how we understand the story of Yiftah is R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s in “Majesty and Humility.”

^[9] This is the opinion of Rashi (on Shoftim 11:39, s.v. va-tehi hok). He adds that va-tehi hok is also introducing the custom mentioned in the next pasuk, and the two verses are read continuously.

^[10] Da’at Mikra (to Shoftim 11:39, s.v. va-ya’as la).

^[11] An additional difficulty raised by Radak and Malbim is the fact that at the end of the perek, it says, “He did to her as he had vowed…” (Shoftim 11:39) instead of remaining consistent and stating that Yiftah offered her up as an olah.

^[12] One solution is to say that “her maidenhood” (Shoftim 11:31) is symbolic of her life being cut short, and the pesukim simply express her early death in poetic terms.

^[13] The translation of this word was changed from the original JPS translation of “commander” to “leader” to better fit the meaning discussed in the previous paragraph.

^[14] “Then Israel’s side said to Gideon, ‘Rule over us—you, your son, and your grandson as well; for you have saved us from the Midianites’” (Shoftim 8:22).

^[15] Malbim (on Shoftim 11:9, s.v. va-yomer Yiftah).

^[16] Abarbanel (on Shoftim 11:9).

^[17] Radak, Malbim, and Ralbag (to Shoftim 11:31, s.v. ve-haya la-Hashem).

^[18] One such example of the letter vav meaning “or” is the pasuk in Shemot (21:15): “One who strikes one’s father or mother shall be put to death.” See Radak to Shoftim 11:31 (s.v. ve-ha’alitihu olah) for further explanation.

^[19] Ramban (on Vayikra 27:29) vehemently opposes this, bringing several proofs against this reading: (1) If so, she should serve God like Shmuel—who is also said to be for God—instead of being alone. Ralbag in note five addresses this point. (2) One cannot make such a vow, as it is outside the Torah’s rules regarding vows. (3) If this were the case, why is she crying so much? (4) Ramban retorts, “God forbid that there should be four days of mourning for Yiftah’s daughter because she never got married and served God in purity.”

^[20] Additionally, the difficulty noted by Radak and Malbim in footnote twelve is resolved with this explanation: the reason the pasuk says that Yiftah “did to her as he had vowed” (Shoftim 11:39) and not that he offered her as an olah is because they are not the same thing. Yiftah indeed fulfilled his vow, but not by offering an olah; instead, he fulfilled the other option of his vow: that the entity be designated to God.