YOUR CHILDREN WILL RETURN

Perspectives on Jewish tradition

These are hours of great turmoil and disquiet. Preparations are being made for the truce and the release of some of the Jewish hostages kidnapped on Oct. 7. There is clearly much joy, but many fear that it is a mistake to give in to certain conditions and free dangerous criminals who are certainly ready to act again against Israel and the Jewish world. It therefore seemed interesting to me to propose a brief excursus among the reflections of Jewish tradition on the subject.

The theme of kidnapping is dramatically recurring in the Torah and Jewish tradition, reflecting a historical reality in which Jews were often subjected to abuses of all kinds. A significant example is found in Numbers 21:1-3, where the king of Arad takes a number of Israelites captive. A midrash interprets the Hebrew term shevi (שֶׁבִי) in the singular, used to designate the abductees, suggesting that even the abduction of a single person would warrant the efforts of the entire community. This principle highlights the importance of freedom as a fundamental human right, applicable to everyone, regardless of their social status.

Not everyone knows that the prohibition of kidnapping is implicit within the Decalogue, in the injunction “You shall not steal” (Exodus 20:13). Jewish tradition interprets this verse as referring specifically to kidnapping (genevat nefesh), not to material theft. This is confirmed by the Talmud (BT Sanhedrin 86a) and Rashi, which explain that the context of the Decalogue concerns crimes punishable by the death penalty (later to become obsolete in rabbinic law), such as murder and adultery, consequently the “thou shalt not steal” must also refer to persons and not objects, for which no such penalty was provided. And since the Torah in Exodus 21:16 indicates that one who kidnaps and sells a person is liable to death, the Decalogue must refer to this.

In the Talmud ( BT Bava Batra 8a-b), the ransom of captives, or Pidyon Shevuyim, is defined as a mitzvah rabbah, or one of the highest community priorities. However, the Mishnah in Gittin (4:6) sets limits: captives are not to be redeemed “for more than their worth,” a rule introduced for tikkun olam (improvement of the world). The reason for this rule is ambiguous and debated: it could refer to the risk of undue financial pressure on the community or the danger that paying high ransoms will encourage further kidnappings.

Nevertheless, in practice the Mishnah has often been reinterpreted. The Talmud and rabbinic responsa tell of exceptions: family members who ransomed at great cost (thus circumventing the issue of financial burden on the community), cases of prisoners in immediate danger of their lives, or individuals of special importance, such as a sage or public figure. For example, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hanania redeemed Rabbi Ishmael, imprisoned in Rome, at a very high price, justifying that his role in the community was irreplaceable. In situations of extreme danger, such as during the Shoah, the priority was clearly to save lives at any cost, since further and worse persecution was not even conceivable. But there is also the well-known case of Rabbi Meir of Rothenburg (13th cent.) who allegedly refused his own ransom and preferred to die in prison-after seven years-rather than set a dangerous precedent that could put others at risk if he allowed a huge sum to be paid to ransom him. An interesting aspect of this episode, moreover, is that possibly only the victim could agree to such a sacrifice, but it could hardly be decided by outside sources.

Turning to modern times, the issue of hostage ransom in Israel, as in the case of Gilad Shalit, reflects tensions between hostage solidarity and collective security. Shalit's exchange of more than 1,000 prisoners, including convicted terrorists and including one of the originators of October 7, be it crossed out, raised questions about whether such actions would incentivize new kidnappings.

In recent eras, teachers have often disagreed on this issue. Among the best known views, Rabbi Shlomo Goren argued that the Mishnah prohibits excessive ransoms to protect the safety of the community. In contrast, Rabbi Hayyim David Halevi and Rabbi Ovadia Yosef believed that the modern context requires new interpretations: in the case of immediate danger, saving lives must take precedence. Rav Ovadia, in particular, argued that future risk cannot take precedence over the need to save lives in the immediate instance, as demonstrated by the Entebbe raid in Uganda in 1976. Rabbi Halevi stressed that modern terrorism, driven by visions of religious imperialism and anti-Jewish hatred, would continue regardless of ransoms, making the Mishnah rule less applicable.

The variety of rabbinic views on hostage redemption reflects a deep moral concern. On the one hand, there is the urgency to save every life, considered sacred and irreplaceable in Jewish tradition. On the other, there is the fear that impulsive action could endanger other lives in the future, encouraging further kidnappings or fueling terrorism. This ethical tension is clearly visible both in the Mishnah, which imposes limits on ransom for tikkun olam, and in modern debates about exchanges and rescue operations. This ethical tension highlights the difficult balance between immediate solidarity and responsibility toward collective security.

Yet, beyond the legitimate debates, one essential truth remains: those we await are not names or numbers, but are our family members, our parents, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters. It is this deep bond that spurs us to spare no effort to bring them home, as we would for those we love most.

“There is hope for your future, YHWH's word, and your children will return to their borders” (Jeremiah 31:16).

כן יהי רצון , So may it be

Rav Haim