The Jewish world lost a unique and special individual this week. Justice Tzvi Tal, of blessed memory, was one of those rare individuals who truly embodied the dictum of the Gemara Yoma 86a:
Abaye said: “And you shall love the Lord your God” – you shall make the name of Heaven beloved. How? One should learn Torah and Mishna, serve Torah scholars, and be pleasant with people in one's business transactions. What do people say about such a person? Fortunate is his father who taught him Torah, fortunate is his teacher who taught him Torah, woe to the people who have not studied Torah. See how pleasant are his ways, how proper are his deeds. The verse states about him and others like him: “You are My servant, Israel in whom I will be glorified” (Isaiah 49:3).
Born as Tzvi Elimelech Teitelbaum to a Hassidic family in Poland, Justice Tal came to Eretz Yisrael at a young age. He loved Torah and general knowledge and supported himself through yeshiva high school by working part-time as a mechanic. After attending advanced yeshiva, serving in the Irgun and then the army (he fought in three wars), he went to law school and became a respected attorney. After some years he was asked to become a judge on the Jerusalem District Court. He considered that to be a judge in a non-Torah legal system may well be problematic, and spoke to several Rabbonim about it. The Lubavitcher Rebbe among others encouraged him to be a judge, but at the same time to increase his dedication to Torah by teaching a daily shiur. He considered a judge as doing God's work if done properly. Eventually, he rose to the pinnacle of the Israeli legal world, serving as the conscience of the Israeli Supreme Court as he occupied the “religious seat” for years. (He was often not happy about that; he felt sometimes as a fig leaf for many of the excesses of Aharon Barak’s aggressive Court).
In his career as a judge, he sat on many important cases, and found himself often in the minority, especially when arguing for the more traditional position. The most famous judicial panel that he sat on was the trial of John Demjanjuk שר"י , who may or may not have been “Ivan the Terrible”, but certainly was, at minimum, an accessory to 28,000 murders at Sobibor.
The judge was best known for heading the eponymous commission that came up with the “Tal Law”; a compromise that he enabled by meeting Roshei Yeshiva with the utmost respect, fashioning an arrangement that reasonable people on both sides could live with. As he put it, “Take away the Torah, and what will be left of us? A small, and unimportant people with a sub-American culture. We are on the stage of history only thanks to the Torah, the Mishnah, the Talmud - the great contribution of the Jewish people. Not only religiously but also nationally. This is the core of our identity. But only some are engaged in Torah as their full occupation, many others just hang out in Yeshivot. Those must go to the army or serve the public like everyone else. " Although it was later overturned, the Yeshiva world remained grateful to him for doing what he could to protect serious Torah scholars.
One must arrive at the correct legal decision. But one must never forget to also arrive at Tzedek – the fair and ethical truth. One must use not only Midat HaDin but also Midat HaRachamim (not only justice but mercy). L’fnim MShurat Hadin.
I knew him, however, in a different light. Growing up in Bayit Vegan and visiting my parents' home frequently, I would see Justice Tal very often at the Sochatchov shtibel where he attended shiurim, gave a daily Mishnayos shiur, and was the best Ba'al Keri'ah that I have ever heard. He radiated a quiet dignity and wisdom, and was a walking Kiddush Hashem for his excellence in Torah and Derech Eretz, as he commanded universal respect for his deep integrity and fearlessness.
However, as is too often the case, I learned much more about him in the news stories that appeared after his passing, and my appreciation has grown exponentially. I saw an interview in which he shared how difficult he found it to send anyone to jail. It reminded me of a Gemara that I learned this week (Bava Metzia 30b) in which Rav Yochanan taught that the reason Jerusalem was destroyed was because they judged according to Torah Law. This obviously strange statement was explained by the Gemara to mean that they judged by the strict letter of the law and did not engage in L’fnim MShurat Hadin (Going beyond strict justice.) As Justice Tal said, "Of course one must arrive at the correct legal decision. But one must never forget to also arrive at Tzedek – the fair and ethical truth. One must use not only Midat HaDin but also Midat HaRachamim (not only justice but mercy). L’fnim MShurat Hadin.
When sentencing even those whose guilt was beyond doubt, his hand would shake while signing the sentencing decree; he would ask their forgiveness for having to do this. A convict whom he sent to prison for fifteen years, published a message expressing his heartbreak at the judge’s passing. The judge would make a point of visiting him at least once a year to inquire after his welfare. In fact, he did this for all those whom he sentenced to a long term, even those who would not forgive him nor shake his hand when he came to see them. On one occasion, this prisoner asked the judge to help watch over his helpless wife and young children, which the judge did for many years. Another ex-con related “the judge changed my life. Today I earn an honest living and am a grandfather. Every few months I called the judge at his request to let him know how I am doing. While I was still incarcerated, my son had a Bar mitzvah – the judge arranged and paid for everything, and refused to let me acknowledge him as he sat unobtrusively at a side table . . . can you believe such a man existed?
His son related that he fasted on the day that he sentenced Demjanjuk to death (later overturned by the Supreme Court). “Do you know what an awesome responsibility it is to take another life, even a monster like Demjanjuk? One cannot just sit down to a breakfast of scrambled eggs and then send a man to death . . . “ His son – who saw him cry many times when reading Eicha – wondered how he could not cry when listening to the survivors talk about their horrible experiences. “It took enormous self-control, but I have a job to do and I have to keep my personal feelings to myself.”
He maintained his integrity and was universally respected by all – Secular, Dati Leumi, and Chareidi alike. One story related to his regular attendance at the Daf Yomi in the shtibel, where the regulars would be unlikely to stand in silence for the siren on Yom HaZikaron, especially if it was sounded during a shiur. He, of course, not only had the highest respect for the fallen soldiers in general; he had given the ultimate sacrifice of his son Moshe הי"ד in a battle during the Yom Kippur war. He told a friend that to not attend the shiur was unthinkable. But a few minutes before the siren, he went out as if he had to take care of some matter, stood at attention during the siren thinking of Moshe and his comrades, and then went back to his Gemara. Without fanfare or arguments, he knew how to do the right thing resolutely with quiet integrity.
One of my great regrets is that I never really had a conversation with him although I often wished him Good Shabbos. I was simply too much in awe and did not know what to say that did not sound small and insignificant. I will greatly miss seeing this giant small man, who embodied everything a great Torah Im Derech Eretz Jew should be.
