Korach’s story is embedded in many that were written about the wandering in the wilderness, one of many times the Israelites are characterized by grumbling and in outright revolt against their leaders. He’s the poster boy for rebellion, leading a mixed bag of the disappointed, “Scoundrels at the head of a confused crowd,” as Zbigniew Herbert wrote in Elegy for the Departure.
And yet, is it possible Korach had a point?
First, today. Need I recite the litany of events down south? The shootings, unrest, and demands – up here, too – that black lives matter, that they’re tired of being harassed in their own driveways and homes, arrested without charge, shot without hesitation by police, assumed guilty, and crowded into prisons without respect or hope, way out of proportion to their numbers?
Meanwhile, simple, but wrong, solutions are proposed by a bloviating bully.
So does the confused crowd have a complaint? You bet they do. We err if we think otherwise.
Let’s leave the world of rabbinic midrash for a moment. Underlying Korach and company’s complaint was the notion that Moses (and Aaron) had usurped leadership from everyone else. The divine backing for their leadership is clear to us readers, but maybe it’s not so clear to everybody else. Note that the rebellion included “heads of the tribes.” There are some serious issues here that we would recognize today.
After all, where in the story do we hear of the supposed distribution of responsibility that Yitro suggested back in Exodus? Never again. It’s clear from the number of voices raised during this episode that people felt they weren’t part of the enterprise, and they wanted a say.
To blow everyone up or have a miraculous earthquake snuff out the lot is no answer to the question.
Back to the present. What can we take away from the Korach episode for today’s fraught relationship between whites and blacks, between Trump’s world and the Other? It’s clear that those of us who lived through the dark decades of last century have not come up with the answer.
Much of the “dialogue” to date has been one of the deaf, rather like Korach and Moses shouting past each other (leave the Almighty out of this for now). Moses focused on Korach – “What did I ever do to him” – and Korach on the grievances of the Levites. The story is very confused as to who wants what at any given moment, rather like our daily televised tangle of voices. Whatever the case, the multitude feels somehow that they’re being harmed, or else why gather? Hence the shouting mobs we see on TV. Mistrust and anger rule the day.
Moses, Korach and the rest of us might pause to listen to the black deputy mayor of Dallas, calling for dialogue instead of violence. Yes, there are voices ready to inflame, and voices, sometimes hard to hear, that look for solutions.
Korach may not have been the right person to speak, but he voiced an unheard malaise among a great number of people. Killing them off seems, well, a bit draconian. Nor do we have that option today.
Korach and his miscellaneous band may not have been speaking disinterestedly, but they obviously hit on the feelings simmering underneath a great many people. Indeed Trump speaks what many feel: ignored, laughed at, unemployed, fearful of the Other. Those anxieties have not been addressed, either by policy wonks – you know who you are – nor by the shrill tactics of the self-proclaimed spokespeople for that unheard class.
We up here better not get too sniffy – we have yet to come to terms with the treatment of First Nations, or of African-Canadians, for that matter.
What, then, is the answer? I haven’t got a clue. But maybe, just maybe, it behooves all of us in the audience and those in power to stop yelling and start listening.
