In 1913, Leo Frank, the Jewish manager of an Atlanta pencil factory, was falsely convicted in the death of Mary Phagan, a young factory worker. When the Georgia governor commuted his sentence to life in prison, an angry mob kidnapped him from prison and lynched him. In the wake of this horrific miscarriage of justice, two Chicago lawyers founded the Anti-Defamation League. Defamation is the act of communicating false statements about a person that injure that person’s reputation. In Leo Frank’s case, defamation led not only to an undeserved murder conviction, but ultimately to mob execution.
A discussion on today’s daf addresses the matter of the defamer, expressed in Hebrew as motzi shem ra, literally meaning “one who bestows a bad name.” First raised in Deuteronomy 22:13–19, the passage describes the specific case of a man who takes a dislike to his wife and falsely accuses her of misrepresenting herself as a virgin prior to marriage. According to the mishnah that opened this tractate, Rabbi Meir holds that defamation cases like this are tried by three judges, but the rabbis say 23 are required. The mishnah explains their reasoning: If the wife is found guilty of adultery, which carries the death penalty, it becomes a capital case.
Most defamation cases don’t morph into capital cases, so the Gemara asks why the rabbis hold that we convene a sanhedrin of 23 judges for every one, and why Rabbi Meir thinks three judges are always sufficient.
Ulla said: Rabbi Meir and the rabbis disagree with regard to the question of whether one needs to be concerned with the possibility of rumors. Rabbi Meir holds that one need not be concerned with the possibility of rumors. And the rabbis hold that one does need to be concerned with the possibility of rumors.
Without witnesses, the husband’s claim of adultery is meaningless in a court of law, but such a case will hardly stay quiet. Rabbi Meir isn’t worried those rumors will influence the case, but (according to Rashi) the rabbis imagine the rumors may bring witnesses out of the woodwork who can attest to adultery, and that in turn would ramp the charges up to a capital crime.
There’s another way to understand the disagreement between Rabbi Meir and the rabbis, as the Gemara now explains:
Rava says: Everyone agrees that one need not be concerned with the possibility of rumors. And here they disagree about whether one need be concerned for the honor of the first judges. And with what are we dealing here? We are dealing, for example, with a case where a court of 23 judges was convened to judge a case of capital law, was disbanded, and then the husband said to them: At least adjudicate for me the aspect of monetary law.
Suppose 23 judges have been convened to hear a defamation case pertaining to the wife’s alleged lack of virginity upon marriage and the husband loses. The matter is now clearly only a civil case because all that is left is to determine what fine he owes for defamation. Just three judges are needed for the civil case, so the other 20 can go home. On Rava’s read of the disagreement, the concern is now about the honor of the court and, especially, those 20 judges who have just been dismissed. He believes that deeming them superfluous midway through the proceeding undermines their honor. Rabbi Meir, however, disagrees that this reconfiguration of the court is an affront to the honor of the judges. (Maybe he’s just ready to go home.)
The Gemara now offers a third interpretation of the disagreement between Rabbi Meir and the rabbis.
Abaye said: According to everyone, we should be concerned for rumors and also for the honor of the first judges. But with regard to the dispute between Rabbi Meir and the rabbis, here we are dealing with a case where the witnesses to the adultery warned her that adultery is a capital transgression without specifying the exact manner of death penalty she would receive.
Abaye says that all are concerned for rumors that might bring new witnesses to the fore and for the honor of the judges who would go home midway through the case — no one disagrees on these matters. According to his interpretation of the dispute, the disagreement concerns the specific case in which the woman was warned against adultery as a capital offense but not of the specific manner of execution (spoiler alert: it’s stoning).
There are more opinions on the daf about the reasoning behind the disagreement between Rabbi Meir and the sages, but let’s end with this one because it highlights an important principle about the death penalty, as stated in a beraita on today’s daf:
Regarding those who are liable for the various death penalties stated in the Torah, the court executes them only when the following elements are present: the congregation (i.e. the court), witnesses and forewarning.
To be liable for the death penalty, the crime needs to be witnessed and tried fairly — concepts familiar to us from contemporary law. But the rabbis add another condition: The person who committed the crime had to be forewarned, right before they did it, that it was a capital offense. We’ll learn much more about what that entails as the tractate unfolds.
Read all of Sanhedrin 8 on Sefaria.
This piece originally appeared in a My Jewish Learning Daf Yomi email newsletter sent on December 25, 2024. If you are interested in receiving the newsletter, sign up here.
Help us keep Jewish knowledge accessible to millions of people around the world.
Your donation to My Jewish Learning fuels endless journeys of Jewish discovery. With your help, My Jewish Learning can continue to provide nonstop opportunities for learning, connection and growth.
