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The Halacha of Kannaim Pogin Bo
At the end of this week's parshah, we encounter the mind-blowing and dramatic episode of Zimri, the Nasi—the prince and leader—of Shevet Shimon, who publicly consorts with a Moavite princess in open defiance of everything Klal Yisrael and Hashem stand for. Pinchas, the grandson of Aharon HaKohen, inflamed with righteous zeal to defend the honor of Hashem, rises up and strikes down the couple, killing them both. Remarkably, this was considered a justified act, for Halachah states that if someone commits such a brazen public sin, he may be killed by a kanai—a zealot so profoundly shaken and outraged by witnessing this act of betrayal that he acts purely out of fervent devotion.
Interestingly, the halachah is that while a man who commits this public act of immorality does not strictly deserve the death penalty through a beis din, it is nevertheless permitted for a zealot to kill him, as we've explained. Because of this unusual status, the Gemara in Sanhedrin (83a) teaches a fascinating principle: it would have been permissible for Zimri to turn around and kill Pinchas as Pinchas approached to strike him. Why? Because at that very moment, Zimri would be classified as a nirdaf—a person being pursued—and halachah rules that if someone is being chased by another who intends to kill him, he is entitled to defend himself, even to the extent of killing his pursuer.
It's crucial to note that the halachah permits a zealot to kill the perpetrator only while he is actually involved in the sinful act. Once he stops, the permissibility ceases, and he may not be harmed.
Why Would Zimri Be Allowed to Kill Pinchos?
This leads to a question raised by the sefer Galia Maseches (Yoreh De'ah 5). How could it be that Zimri would be permitted to defend himself against Pinchas and treat him as a rodef—a pursuer threatening his life? After all, there's a fundamental rule in Hilchos Rodef: before resorting to killing the pursuer, one must try to stop him through less lethal means, such as merely wounding him. In this case, argues the Galia Maseches, there's an obvious way for Zimri to avoid the danger altogether—he could simply stop his sinful act of being mezaneh, thereby removing any justification for Pinchas to attack him. Why, then, would he be allowed to respond with lethal force?
Stand Your Ground - A Victim Can Defend Himself
The Galia Maseches resolves this question by explaining that while the general rule is that an onlooker trying to save a victim must first attempt to stop the rodef by wounding rather than killing, this restriction does not apply to the nirdaf himself—the person actually being pursued[1]. The nirdaf is allowed to defend himself immediately, even with lethal force, without first attempting less severe measures. Accordingly, Zimri, in the heat of the moment, would technically have been permitted to defend himself against Pinchas by trying to kill him outright, since from Zimri's perspective, Pinchas was coming to take his life.
However, the Achiezer (1:19:1) explains that the reason a nirdaf—the person being pursued—is allowed to defend himself with lethal force without first trying less drastic measures is because he's in a state of panic and fear for his life. In such a moment of terror, we don't expect him to calmly weigh alternatives or consider whether wounding his attacker might suffice. The halachah therefore grants him the right to act decisively to save himself. According to this, the logic wouldn't fully apply in Zimri's case. After all, Zimri had a very straightforward way to remove the danger to his life without any panic or fear: he could simply stop committing the sinful act. We cannot say that Zimri was so panicked that he could kill Pinchas "no matter what," since he had an obvious and immediate way to end the threat—by ceasing his sin[2].
Killing a Dead Man Walking
The Galia Maseches's main answer is based on a Rambam which rules that if a nirdaf—someone being pursued—kills his pursuer even though he could have merely wounded him to stop the attack, although it is technically considered an act of murder, however, he is not held liable for it. Applying this principle to our case, the Galia Maseches explains that when the Gemara says Zimri could have killed Pinchas, it doesn't mean it would have been fully permissible for him to do so. Rather, it means that even if Zimri had killed Pinchas unnecessarily—when he could have simply stopped sinning instead—he would not have been held liable for murder.
Yet this explanation is also shver—difficult to accept—because many Acharonim understand the Rambam based on the following reasoniong. The Ohr Sameach (Rotzeach 1:13 s.v. Veda) explains that the reason a nirdaf who kills his pursuer isn't held liable is not merely because he's panicked, but rather because the rodef's life is already halachically forfeit. Technically, anyone else—who does not have the skill or opportunity to merely wound the rodef—would be permitted to kill him outright. Therefore, the rodef is viewed almost as a "dead man walking," legally subject to death by someone. Consequently, even if a person kills the rodef unnecessarily, when wounding would have sufficed, he is not held fully accountable, since the rodef is already under a halachic death sentence[3]. According to the Ohr Sameach, this reasoning would not apply in the case of Zimri and Pinchas. In this scenario, Pinchas was acting entirely within the bounds of halachah, carrying out a righteous act to defend Hashem's honor. Unlike a classic rodef whose life is forfeit, Pinchas was not subject to death at all. No one else would have been permitted to harm him, because he was doing the right thing. Therefore, Zimri would not have the same halachic justification to kill Pinchas, and the heter of "dead man walking" would not apply in this unique case[4].
Can I Use Lethal Force To Get You To Do What I Want
An intriguing answer is offered by Rav Shmuel Rozovsky in Zichron Shmuel (83:7). He explains that the key issue here is whether one person has the right to force his fellow to act—or to stop acting—in a particular way. For instance, imagine someone threatens his friend: "Put on purple socks, or I'll kill you." Halachah does not grant a person the right to impose such demands on someone else's personal actions or choices, because each individual retains autonomy over his own behavior in matters that don't directly harm others. Therefore, the threat is treated purely at face value—as a threat to kill—and the person making it is considered a rodef, a pursuer, regardless of the "condition" he tries to impose.
Applying this concept to the case of Zimri and Pinchas, Rav Shmuel Rozovsky argues that although Zimri was certainly committing a severe sin, from the standpoint of interpersonal relationships—bein adam lechaveiro—Pinchas has no inherent right to force Zimri to stop. While Hashem demands that Zimri cease his immoral act, another human being cannot compel him to do so under threat of lethal force unless explicitly authorized by halachah. Thus, even though Pinchas was acting out of holy zeal, from Zimri's perspective, Pinchas was still a rodef, since no private individual can claim a personal right to forcibly stop another person's sin by threatening his life. Therefore, halachically, Zimri might still be considered justified in defending himself, at least in terms of not being liable for killing Pinchas.
Another Perspective – You Must Listen To Your Friend!
However, from a logical perspective, this argument seems difficult to accept—and, in fact, Rav Shmuel Rozovsky himself raises this very challenge. He questions why the principle should be any different in these cases. The core issue is as follows: if a person is not truly deserving of death because there exists a way to resolve the situation without killing—such as simply stopping the sinful act—then killing him would indeed be murder. So why should the law allow a person to resort to lethal force when there's a clear, non-lethal alternative available? Imagine someone threatens you, saying, "Put on purple socks, or I'll kill you." Logically, if merely putting on purple socks could save your life, why should it be permissible for you to kill the person threatening you? Halachah obligates a person to minimize harm whenever possible. For example, if you could save your life by shooting an attacker with rubber bullets—which might cost more money or require the effort of running upstairs to retrieve them—you would be required to do so, rather than resort to lethal force. If that's true, then the same principle should apply here: if you could save the rodef's life by taking a relatively simple action—even as trivial as putting on purple socks—halachah should demand you choose that route rather than commit murder.
In other words, the argument seems to undermine itself: if there's an easy escape that prevents the need for bloodshed, halachah should demand that path rather than allow the killing of the pursuer. Thus, in Zimri's case, since he could simply stop sinning to save himself, it's hard to see how he could claim the full rights of a nirdaf to defend himself by killing Pinchas.
A Hold-Up on Shabbos
A strong proof to this line of reasoning comes from the halachah cited by the Magen Avraham (Orach Chaim 329:5). He rules that if a robber threatens a person on Shabbos, demanding his money under threat of violence, an individual who has the strength of character to control himself and surrender his property is obligated to do so. In other words, even though he has the right to defend himself, halachah demands that he avoid bloodshed if possible—even at the cost of his own financial loss. This directly challenges the logic of Rav Shmuel Rozovsky's position. According to Rav Shmuel's argument, a person could insist, "You cannot tell me what to do," and claim the right to resist forcefully, viewing the thief as a rodef, a potential murderer. Yet the Magen Avraham makes it clear that if there's a non-violent option—even one involving personal loss—the obligation is to choose it to avoid taking a life.
How Does the Magen Avraham work with the Famous Halacha of Ba Bemachteres
All of this leads us to another fascinating and complex halachic question: why does the Torah permit killing a thief in the case of ba bemachteres? Let's first clarify the classic scenario. The Torah (Shemos 22:1-2) describes a burglar who tunnels secretly into a house at night—a case known as ba bemachteres. The halachah presumes that someone breaking in under cover of darkness anticipates being confronted and is prepared to kill the homeowner to escape. Therefore, the Torah allows the homeowner to kill the intruder preemptively in self-defense. This is known as the principle of nidon al shem sofo—the burglar is judged based on how things are likely to end, assuming that the situation will escalate to violence.
We now have a powerful question: What, then, is the fundamental rationale behind ba bemachteres? The Simple explanation is that the Torah recognizes a basic human instinct—that a person cannot be expected to stand by idly and watch all his property and possessions go down the drain. This human reaction justifies the Torah's allowance of lethal force in these unique circumstances.
Yet this seems difficult in light of the Magen Avraham's ruling we discussed earlier. The Magen Avraham teaches that if a robber threatens you on Shabbos, you're obligated to surrender your money rather than resist and risk bloodshed, assuming you have the self-control to do so. Why should ba bemachteres be different? If halachah obligates a person to forgo even significant financial losses rather than commit potential murder, why here does it permit killing the burglar to protect money?
Furthermore, consider another halachic scenario: if a person faces a massive business loss on Shabbos and could save his entire fortune by making a prohibited transaction or turning on a light, halachah requires him to absorb the financial loss rather than violate Shabbos. So why, in the case of ba bemachteres, does the Torah allow a person to go so far as to kill the intruder to save his money? Shouldn't the same principle apply—that one must remain steadfast, let the thief take the money, and avoid taking a life?
A fundamental Yesod in To Whom Does the Torah Legislate For
The answer, I believe, lies in a fundamental principle—a yesod—that clarifies many of these contradictions. When the Torah establishes a halachah, it does so by speaking to the average person in typical circumstances. The laws are designed around the emotional and psychological limits of the normal human being. Once a halachah is set for the average individual, it becomes universally binding, even in situations where an extraordinary person might have the strength to go beyond those limits.
Take Shabbos, for example. The Torah commands every Jew to observe Shabbos under normal circumstances. That obligation remains in force even if someone finds himself in highly unusual circumstances—such as facing a large financial loss—where it might feel incredibly difficult to refrain from melachah. The halachah doesn't adjust itself for the exceptional individual who could endure greater sacrifice or the exceptional circumstance; rather, it maintains the same standard for everyone because it was legislated with the average person and average circumstances in mind.
However, there are certain scenarios where the Torah explicitly addresses a unique case and writes new rules tailored to human nature. The case of ba bemachteres is precisely such an example. The Torah recognizes that when someone is sneaking into a person's home in the dead of night, the average person simply cannot restrain himself from using force—even lethal force—to protect his property and his own life. Human nature, in moments of fear and panic, takes over. Therefore, the Torah legislates specifically for that case, declaring that the burglar has the status of a rodef—someone whose life is halachically forfeit because he's presumed willing to kill if confronted.
By contrast, in the case addressed by the Magen Avraham, where a robber threatens you in a more open and direct manner, although the logic is the same, and the tension is the same, the Torah did not speak explicitly about that scenario or carve out a special dispensation. Therefore, the halachah reverts to the general rule: you must avoid taking a life and even surrender your money if that's what it takes to prevent bloodshed. Because the Torah did not address that specific case head-on, we cannot apply the unique leniency established for ba bemachteres.
In essence, only in situations where the Torah directly confronts a particular case—like the tunnel burglar—does it set the standard based on the emotional limits of the average person and allow for extraordinary leniencies. Otherwise, we remain bound by the general halachic framework, which requires mesiras nefesh—self-sacrifice—even when it involves significant personal loss.
This Principal by Eishes Yefas Toar
A powerful proof for this yesod comes from the Torah's discussion of eishes yefas to'ar—the beautiful woman captured in war. The Torah, in Parshas Ki Seitzei, recognizes that during the chaos and passions of battle, a soldier might be overcome with desire upon seeing a beautiful captive woman. Rather than prohibiting the relationship entirely, the Torah regulates it, permitting the soldier to take her as a wife, but only after undergoing a process designed to temper his passion: she must shave her head, grow her nails, wear unattractive clothing, and mourn her family for a full month.
The question is obvious: Why does the Torah allow such a relationship at all? We know that if a person's life were threatened—if a gun were literally held to his head—he would be obligated to withstand temptation and refuse to commit a forbidden act. Shouldn't the same strength of self-control be demanded here?
The answer lies precisely in our principle: the Torah legislates based on the limits of the average person. While an exceptional individual might be able to overcome his urges even amid the fires of war, the Torah recognizes that, for the average soldier, such temptation is nearly impossible to withstand. Therefore, since the Torah was discussing this topic it, rather than issuing a law that would inevitably be broken, the Torah provides a controlled framework to channel that overwhelming desire. Had it not talked about this case however, the Halacha certainly would have been that a soldier would have to withstand the temptation.
This reinforces our yesod: only when the Torah explicitly addresses a specific, extreme scenario—like ba bemachteres or eishes yefas to'ar—does it adjust the halachic standard to reflect the emotional limits of the average person. Otherwise, we remain obligated to uphold the mitzvos, even under difficult or unusual circumstances.
Circling Back To Zimri
But after all is said and done, we find ourselves circling back to the question raised by the Galia Maseches: Why didn't Zimri simply cease his sinful actions to save himself from danger? If halachah demands that a person avoid bloodshed whenever possible, why would he be allowed to claim the status of a nirdaf and potentially kill Pinchas rather than just stop his sin?
Truthfully, I don't have a fully satisfying answer to this question. Despite exploring many angles and deep principles, it remains shver—difficult and unresolved. Yet even if the question lingers, the yesod we've developed is itself a tremendous insight. Sometimes, as in this case, the beauty of learning lies not only in finding answers—but in the profound questions and yesodos that keep us thinking and learning more. Have an amazing Shabbos!
Rabbi Moshe Revah Rosh HaYeshiva Moshe.revah@htc.edu _______________________________________________________________________
[1] This position is explicit in the Levush quoted in the Mishneh Lamelech (Chovel Umazik 8:10) although I did not see this answer in the Sefer. It is quoted in the Divrei Yechezkel (13:12) who asks our question on it. See also R' Akiva Eiger (Kesuvos 33b).
[2] See Chiddushei Maran Riz HaLevi on the Rambam (Hilchos Chovel U'Mazik 8:10), who explains that the permissibility for a person to defend himself—even with lethal force—is a special halachic category of haba lehorgo, hashkem vehorgo—"if someone comes to kill you, rise early and kill him first." However, this explanation will not work with the words of the Magen Avraham I intend to cite, and thus would not fully resolve our underlying question in the case of Zimri.
[3] This very explanation of the Rambam is itself subject to dispute. See the above-mentioned Griz Al HaRambam (on Hilchos Rotzeach), who explains that the Rambam's reasoning is not merely because the rodef is "able to be killed" and therefore considered a dead man walking. Rather, according to the Griz, this status stems from an intrinsic halachic principle—that a true rodef carries a specific legal designation of being as if already dead. According to the Griz this unique status applies only to classic cases of rodef, and therefore would not extend to the case of Zimri.
[4] This is also subject to dispute. | 
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