Five daughters and the challenge of inheritance

Numbers 25:10 – 30:1

Jane Austen’s 19th-century novel “Pride and Prejudice” centers on a marriage plot driven by a looming crisis. Mr. Bennet has five daughters but no sons. His estate is entailed, meaning it can only be inherited by a male descendant. Upon Mr. Bennet’s death, a distant relative stands to inherit everything, leaving his wife and daughters penniless. Desperation for the daughters to marry wealthy men becomes the engine of the story. The practice of entailment — restricting inheritance to male heirs only — was common in 18th- and 19th-century Britain. Interestingly, this week’s parashah contains a Biblical law more progressive than that of Austen’s time.

At this point in the Torah, it is understood that only men can inherit property. Parashat Pinchas introduces us to the five daughters of Tzelophechad, who step up and challenge this law, arguing that their father deserves to have his property stay in the family despite having had no sons. Moses takes their claim to God, who rules in the daughters’ favor: “The plea of Zelophehad’s daughters is just: you should give them a hereditary holding among their father’s kinsmen; transfer their father’s share to them.” God then announces an emendation of the laws of inheritance. From that time forward, men who have no sons will be able to bequeath their estates to their daughters.

The Torah is a sacred text that also reflects the social context of ancient times — namely, patriarchy. Men are the central actors in biblical narrative. They are the leaders entrusted with authority, and the ones to whom many laws are implicitly addressed. The Ten Commandments, for example, are directed to males, written in the second-person masculine singular. Of course, we have female figures who are strong and have agency (the matriarchs in Genesis, Miriam, Queen Esther). Those formidable women notwithstanding, the story of the daughters of Tzelofchad is an aberration.

For one thing, they are named. Many female characters in the Torah — such as Noah’s wife, Lot’s wife, and Pharaoh’s daughter — are not given names. They are defined in relation to their husbands or fathers. In this short narrative however, each of Tzelophechad’s daughters is named.

Secondly, the story is unique in that it is the only time that God changes a law in response to a plea by women.

Finally, rabbinic tradition amplifies and expands upon the just nature of the daughters’ claim. Consider these two examples:

1. Rashi, summarizing Midrash Tanhuma: “Their eye saw what Moses could not see.” In other words, the daughters perceived an injustice that Moses himself was blind to.

2. Sifrei BaMidbar: “Scripture comes to teach us that the strength of the women in that generation was greater than that of the men, the men saying (Bamidbar 14:4) ‘Let us make a leader and return to Egypt,’ and the women saying (Ibid. 27:4) ‘Give us a holding’.” Here, the midrash sees the righteousness of the daughters as evidence of the strength of all the women of that time, who were not decreed to die in the wilderness.

What are we to make about this unusual power and deference given to these women?

In her book “Countertraditions in the Bible,” Israeli scholar Ilana Pardes argues that the Torah, while generally patriarchal, is not homogenous. Peppered in small places in the Tanakh are “counter-traditions,” texts which reflect an anti-patriarchal element. While the dominant narrative elevates men as actors and agents, there does exist a counterculture of sorts that comes to light in certain verses. The narrative of the daughters of Tzelofchad is one such instance. It is our job as close readers to pay attention to these aberrations and bring them to light. PJC

Rabbi Amy Bardack is the spiritual leader of Congregation Dor Hadash, Pittsburgh’s Reconstructionist Community. This column is a service of the Greater Pittsburgh Jewish Clergy Association.