Judgment and Compromise; Two Sides of One Coin.

Adapted from Parasha U’Pishra by Rabbi Moshe Grylak

Translated and adapted by Rafaella Levine

The judge was silent. He looked from one lawyer to the next, and then back to the business men. One wore a smug expression, the other’s eyes were downcast, his face unreadable. It did seem clear enough; why was he hesitating?

Because something just didn’t seem right. Jerry Fields was a brilliant lawyer; he had manipulated and bent the law, dragging it heavily against Singer. The judge drew in a sigh. Fields was clever. Too clever, perhaps, as it seemed to the judge that he had turned the law to benefit the wrong party. But he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that was making him uneasy. He couldn’t prove anything. And everyone was waiting for him.

“Justice, justice shall you pursue, so that you live and possess the Land that Hashem, your G-d, gives you” (Deuteronomy 16:20). This verse sums up a number of pesukim (verses) dealing with the nature of Torah court decorum and the character of the Jewish judge. This verse is self-explanatory, demanding that the judge adjudicate fairly. But why the repetition of the word justice (tzedek)?

The judge could hide behind the dry letter of the law, and pass sentence according to the summation of proofs brought before him. He could ignore the hesitations peeking up behind his mask of certainty… and no one would fault him.

For this the Torah adds a three letter word: a seemingly extraneous “tzedek.” “Justice, justice shall you pursue.” We can pursue justice. Why justice-justice? To tell that judge to go back and review the facts until he finds the real, clear truth.

Justice doesn’t mean to pass – to “be okay” – according to formal regulations. It means doing the right thing, answerable to undeniable truth.

There are infinite variations of situations that reality invites to each of us, wherein we are obligated to act parallel to the considerations of justice. Should I give in or stand up for my rights? When arguing over a parking spot in a trafficked city, when competing for positions and salaries, in the web of relationships between employer and employee at the office, in the thicket of social and familial relationships, and in the twisting world of politics. We have an innate tendency to stand up for our position, retain our posture, and not give in to the other: to demand our rights in full. So we need an objective measurement of justice, which can settle this struggle between creatures. A measurement latent, actually, in the verse we are discussing.

It’s called compromise.

Compromise comes part and parcel with strict justice. It is not the alternative we accept when there is no other choice, just for lack of any other way of solving the problem. It is a goal, a first choice, the very expression of justice. Thus, the word is written twice in our verse, to emphasize its double entendre, its multiple faces that complement each other. Judgment, when the circumstances are clear, and a list of priorities can be drawn up. And compromise, for those times when the parties have fallen into an impasse. Then justice demands a compromise.

Chase after justice; then you will reach compromise.