The human relationship with animal flesh is a complex tapestry woven from necessity, spiritual compromise, and sometimes sheer desperation. In the earliest chapters of Genesis, the ideal world is depicted as entirely vegetarian. Adam and Eve were given every seed-bearing herb and fruit-yielding tree for food. Yet, this primordial harmony did not last. As human society descended into violence and corruption leading up to the great deluge, the human appetite shifted. When Noah stepped off the ark, a new divine dispensation was granted. Humans were finally permitted to consume the flesh of other living creatures.
This dramatic shift from a peaceful plant-based diet to the slaughter of animals has long puzzled theologians and historians alike. Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, the esteemed twentieth-century scholar, offered a profound explanation for this biblical compromise. He argued that the permission to eat meat was a temporary concession to human moral imperfection. Humanity possessed an insatiable, almost uncontrollable craving for flesh. Had the Torah strictly banned the consumption of animal meat, the moral consequences could have been catastrophic. Rabbi Kook warned that a premature ban on animal flesh might have caused humans to view human flesh and animal flesh with the same lack of moral distinction. In other words, the desperate lust for meat could have easily driven society toward the ultimate horror of cannibalism.
Cannibalism is a dark thread running through the history of human survival, proving that the line between civilized behavior and primal instinct is extraordinarily thin. When extreme famine strikes, the biological drive to survive can overpower even the deepest moral taboos. History is replete with grim reminders of this reality. In 1846, the stranded members of the Donner Party resorted to consuming their deceased companions to survive the freezing wilderness of the Sierra Nevada. A century later, during the severe Ukrainian famine of 1947, starvation drove some individuals to such madness that they butchered their own children. Even in more recent memory, the survivors of the 1972 Andes flight disaster had to make the agonizing decision to eat the flesh of their dead friends to stay alive in the barren heights of the mountains.
This biological and psychological desperation for flesh also manifests during non-emergency times within various cultures as a distinct, recognized state of mind. Among the Bemba people of Northern Rhodesia, there exists a specific word for this intense, agonizing craving for meat, known as ubukashya. For the Bemba, meat represents a vital necessity that commands its own vocabulary of desire, far transcending the status of ordinary sustenance. Similarly, the Lele people of the Congo experience such a profound despondency when meat or fish is absent from their meals that they may lose all interest in eating altogether, choosing instead to drink palm wine and simply sleep away their hunger.
When this craving is thwarted by prolonged famine, the psychological toll can take an even more terrifying turn. Among the Ojibway of North America, a severe meat famine carries the dread of Windigo psychosis. This is a terrifying mental affliction in which an individual develops a compulsive, delusional craving for human flesh, believed to be possessed by a cannibalistic giant that haunts the northern forests.
These cultural phenomena highlight what can be termed the famine hunger paradox. For pastoral and hunting peoples throughout history, meat was the ultimate symbol of strength, vitality, and survival. Without access to modern nutritional knowledge or diverse protein alternatives like balanced grain and legume combinations, ancient populations associated a lack of meat with weakness, disease, and death. Their physical survival depended on the hunt, and their cultural narratives reflected this deep-seated dread of protein starvation.
Yet, even as humanity embraced the necessity of meat-eating, a collective memory of a gentler past remained. The Hebrew prophets looked forward to a messianic era when the cycle of violence would finally draw to a close. In this envisioned future, the lion would lie down with the lamb and eat straw like the ox, returning the world to its original vegetarian peace. Until humanity reaches that elevated moral plane, the craving for flesh remains a powerful force, reminding us of the delicate balance between our highest spiritual ideals and the raw instincts of survival.
Bibliographic Information
- Title: Vegetarianism and the Jewish Tradition
- Subtitle: Relating Biblical and Rabbinic Thought to Modern Nutrition, Anthropology, and Psychology
- Author: Louis A. Berman (Professor of Psychology and Staff Counselor, University of Illinois at Chicago Circle)
- Publisher: KTAV Publishing House, Inc.
- Publication Year: 1982
- Edition: First Edition
- ISBN:
- Hardcover: 0-87068-756-5
- Paperback: 0-87068-285-7
- Historical Period Covered: Biblical Origins (approx. 3000 BCE) through Talmudic/Rabbinic Antiquity, Medieval Codification (Maimonides), early Diaspora, Victorian/Modern Vegetarian Movements, up to the early 1980s.
- Main Subject Areas: Jewish Ethics, Kashrut (Dietary Laws), Shechita (Ritual Slaughter), Biblical Animal Welfare (Tza’ar Ba’alei Chayim), Comparative Anthropology of Food, Evolutionary Psychology, Biochemical Nutrition, and Jewish History.