Teshuva for Killing a Comrade in War
BY RABBI DR. SHLOMO BRODY
During the First Lebanon War, then known as Operation Peace of Galilee, a group of hesder yeshiva students sent Rabbi Shlomo Goren a haunting question. The yeshiva was preparing a memorial volume in memory of their friends who had fallen in war. In line with common practice, they were going to list each soldier with the epithet HY”D, “Hashem yikom damo, May G-d avenge their blood.” One of their IDF comrades, however, had been accidentally killed by an IDF plane that had mistakenly identified them as an enemy target. Obviously, no one wished for G-d to take vengeance on the IDF soldier who killed one of their own. The friendly-fire incident was known by the soldiers but was unknown to the family, who they feared would suffer even greater emotional pain from this knowledge. The soldiers thus asked: Can we write HY”D next to the killed soldier’s name?
Rabbi Goren ruled yes. The ultimate cause of their deaths was our ruthless enemy that forced us to fight. In any case, we shouldn’t commemorate their deaths in an unusual manner that will perpetuate the guilt and anguish that their comrades feel for their role in this tragic incident (Meshiva Milchama, 3:2).
This sad tale highlights the horrific reality that friendly-fire casualties occur in every Israeli war. In the First Lebanon War, 25 soldiers were reportedly killed in friendly-fire incidents. As of August 1st, 2024, of the nearly 80 IDF casualties during the Iron Swords War from accidental-operational incidents, 31 were killed by so-called “friendly-fire.” These incidents represent 3.5 percent of all IDF deaths in the war. Additionally, at least three hostages were accidentally killed in Gaza by IDF fire.
This phenomenon, of course, is not unique to the IDF and occurs in almost every army. The US lost 40 soldiers to friendly-fire in Afghanistan. In the 1991 Persian Gulf War, 35 US soldiers died from friendly-fire, representing almost 25 percent of US battle deaths. Such incidents are particularly traumatic for the soldiers whose errant fire kills their own comrades. These soldiers enter combat with the goal of protecting their people and their brothers-in-arms, only to find themselves suffering from the guilt of an awful mistake. Many Jewish soldiers turn to Torah for spiritual guidance on how they can gain atonement and inner peace after such terrible accidents.
In response to repeated queries over the years, a range of poskim have asserted that no teshuva is required for these friendly-fire mishaps. Not every mistake, including grave errors like this one, requires an act of repentance. To understand why, it pays to reflect on the halachic approaches to accidental killings.
Jewish law includes extensive discussion of what should be done with people who kill unintentionally. Murderers who intentionally kill receive the death penalty under Biblical law. But for unintentional or accidental killers, the Torah establishes cities of refuge where these individuals can find safe haven from a “blood avenger” who might seek to kill them (Bamidbar 35:28). The question arises as to which unintentional killers qualify for refuge in these cities. After all, “unintentional” killing exists on a spectrum. The borderline negligent killer, who should have exercised greater care, is not permitted refuge and must fend for himself. Others, however, bear less guilt but still must go into exile for their role in this preventable tragedy. Besides providing protection, medieval commentators argue that this exile serves as both punishment and, in some manner, atonement (kapparah) for the bloodshed that resulted.
Of course, cities of refuge have not existed for many centuries. Nonetheless, throughout the generations, different decisors have utilized this paradigm to establish teshuva rituals for people who kill unintentionally. The Maharam of Lublin, for example, suggested light forms of social isolation for a person who accidentally killed someone within a shooting range. The idea was to provide penitents with a pathway for self-reflection and atonement that could allow them to restore their place in society and ease their conscience.
A more complex case involves people who unintentionally kill in the process of performing a mitzvah, such as a court official (shaliach beit din) or a doctor. There’s a complex halachic discussion about whether such a person requires some form of atonement (Aruch HaShulchan, Yoreh Deah 336:2). The intent was positive and the results unexpected, yet perhaps more could have been done to prevent the tragic outcome. Without proof of negligence, however, we leave any question of culpability up to G-d. For the sake of “tikkun olam,” maintaining the social order, the Sages rule that imposing financial penalties or social sanctions will deter people from being willing to take on those crucial tasks (Tosefta Gittin 3:8–9). This sentiment has led to many similar types of rulings throughout the ages: As a general rule, we must not impose punishments on those who perform life-saving tasks on behalf of the community.
This belief drives another important ruling regarding kohanim. Normally, a kohen who has accidentally killed is disqualified from performing birkat kohanim, the priestly blessing (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 128:35). Nonetheless, a range of decisors, such as Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef, have ruled that this does not apply to soldiers who kill in active duty. We don’t impose such sanctions on those who kill while fulfilling this mitzvah (Yechaveh Da’at 2:14).
In this vein, we can understand why leading figures like Rabbi Asher Weiss and Rabbi Shlomo Amar have recently insisted that soldiers responsible for friendly-fire accidents should be told that they are not obligated to perform acts of teshuva for these deeply regrettable incidents. In the fog of war, such tragedies are almost inevitable. Yet we still send out these fighters, our shluchei mitzvah – emissaries fulfilling the holy obligation to defend Am Yisrael on behalf of the entire community – to carry out these critical duties. They remain innocent of wrongdoing, even when terrible tragedy results from their actions. Rabbi Weiss adds that if someone chooses to perform mitzvot in memory of their fallen comrade, this constitutes a fitting tribute. However, nothing more should be required as we help soldiers overcome their feelings of guilt and recover from this traumatic experience.
The ruling reflects the beauty of Torah, which recognizes that in the case of battlefield friendly-fire incidents, both the fallen and the accidental shooter were fulfilling mitzvot. Those killed remain kedoshim (martyrs) whose sacrifice must be properly commemorated, while the responsible comrades were our representatives who tried their best under incredibly difficult circumstances. We must give them and their loved ones all of the necessary support to overcome their loss and trauma, while making ourselves worthy of their sacrifices.
Rabbi Dr. Shlomo Brody is the Executive Director of Ematai and the author of Ethics of Our Fighters: A Jewish View on War and Morality.