The Sair L’Azazel: A Guide for the Perplexing Ramban

One of the highlights of the Yom Kippur service during Temple times was the casting off the Sair Hamishtaleach; the scapegoat, also known as the “Sair L’Azazel,” from a rugged cliff.¹ The scapegoat was not considered a Temple offering. It was neither ritually slaughtered, nor was its blood sprinkled upon the altar. However, the scapegoat’s ritual entanglement with the Sair L’Hashem, a hatat, sin offering, inextricably tethered the two.² These two outwardly identical animals, differentiated by lot alone, conferred national atonement.³ The inherent strangeness of the scapegoat ceremony, with its shocking, brutal dismemberment as a means of expiation, becomes even more confounding when we consider its enigmatic name: Azazel. Rashi and Saadiah Gaon suggest a topographical explanation.⁴ Saadiah Gaon proposes the combination of the word azaz, strong, and the theophoric element el, powerful, suggesting a rough rugged mountain.⁵ Ibn Ezra counters that the letters zayin and the alef do not appear consecutively at the end of Azazel, challenging this interpretation.⁶ While Ibn Ezra goes on to suggest a correlation between the scapegoat and the text’s ensuing discussion concerning the rooting out of idolatrous goat/demon worship, he does not posit an alternative etymology for the perplexing word.⁷ Ramban, citing Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, says that Azazel is an epithet for the menacing angel, Samael.⁸ He suggests that the Sair L’Azazel functioned as a payment of sorts to protect the Yom Kippur service from the specter of sabotage. Ramban further proposes that the unusual casting of lots to determine the fate of the two Yom Kippur goats, supports this approach. According to Ramban, this form of divination facilitated the removal of the high priest from any direct connection to the ‘gift’ to the menacing spirit. With fate/God as the official sender, any misconception that the Jewish people offered the goat to Azazel was avoided. Ramban precedes this disturbing argument with a quote from the midrash associating the Sair L’Azazel with Esau, also known as Seir, and the Sair L’Hashem with Jacob.⁹Ramban does not, however, offer any further clarification on the suggested connection between Jacob and Esau and the Yom Kippur service. Nor does he explain the implied connection to the bribe of Samael. Instead of dispelling confusion, Ramban’s discussion, on the face of it, seems to intensify the rite’s perplexity. In this article I wish to offer an approach to understanding Ramban’s position on the Sair L’Azazel. While at first glance his comments seem to only deepen confusion, we will see that the perplexing framework posited by Ramban gets to the very heart of the issue.

The Approach of Ramban to the Sair L’Azazel

While we might find the interpretation of Ramban to be jarring, his approach to the Sair L’Azazel is well rooted in the plain sense of the text. To begin with, the parallel position of the word Azazel to the name of God in Leviticus suggests a counterpart offering:¹⁰ He is to cast lots for the two goats: one lot for God and the other for Azazel (Lev. 16: 8). Moreover, a demonic interpretation finds support in the midrash of Shemhazai and Azazel, on Genesis 6:1- 4, in which the ‘sons of god’ take human wives.¹¹ The midrash tells the story of two angels who came to Earth in an attempt to demonstrate their spiritual incorruptibility. Whereas both ended up descending into sexual promiscuity, Shemhazai repented, while Azazel clung to his guilt. The midrash goes on to recount how Azazel ultimately became associated with the constellation Kimah; a star cluster traditionally associated with Pleiades; within the constellation of Taurus, the Bull.¹² In Greek Mythology, the stars of Pleiades, daughters of Atlas and Pleione, were pursued by Orion with sexual intentions.¹³ Understanding the illicit sexual undertones of the midrash and its mythological frame of reference is critical for detecting the resonances with the general tenor of the ‘sons of god’ story in Genesis 6. In what way, however, might this legend pertain to the scapegoat of Yom Kippur?¹⁴ The Sair is a he goat. The Bible makes numerous references to a demonic cult associated with the he goat.¹⁵ One of these, noted by Ibn Ezra above, appears a mere thirty-three verses away from our verse, implying a connection.¹⁶The cult of the he goat, Seirim, has been understood to be related to Satyr worship.¹⁷ Greek mythology depicted these as wild composite mangoat creatures, associated with Dionysus and themes of licentious pleasure.¹⁸ The presumption of a relationship between the Sair L’Azazel and the Satyr suggests that the Sair L’Hashem, dedicated to God, represents its antithesis, covenantal loyalty.

The Sair L’Azazel and Sexuality

The oral tradition of tying a crimson thread to the head of the scapegoat might also reinforce the sexual connotation of the Sair L’Azazel.¹⁹ Scott Noegel analyzes the semiotic connotation of the color red in all of its various hues, in the Bible.²⁰ He argues that “these symbolic signs convey far more than hues in that they index literary contexts involving stigmatized sexual behavior.”²¹ Noegel cites numerous examples in which the color red is used in this way. I am focusing here on a subset of examples cited by Noegel in which fabric or thread is dyed red: The placement of a scarlet string on the hand of Peretz, the firstborn twin, in the story of Tamar and Yehuda, in which Tamar presents herself to Yehuda as a prostitute (Genesis 38);²² The crimson cord hung from the window of Rahab, the prostitute of Jericho (Joshua 2);²³ Isaiah’s description of Jerusalem as a prostitute, whose crimson clothing, if repentant, might turn as white as snow (Isaiah 1);²⁴ Jeremaih’s castigation of Jerusalem, depicted as a woman clothed in crimson in pursuit of lovers (Jeremaih 4); and Nahum’s description of the imminent destruction of Nineveh all because of the wanton lust of a prostitute, alluring, the mistress of sorceries, who enslaved nations by her prostitution and peoples by her witchcraft, and whose soldiers are crimson clad (Nahum 2:4; 3:4). The word metulaim in Nahum 2:4 clearly references the crimson fiber of the Assyrian military uniforms.²⁵ Additionally, we may add the verse from Canticles comparing the lips of the Raaya to a crimson thread.²⁶ While this example is notably non-pejorative, it relates to the broader theme of sexual desire developed throughout the text.²⁷ These examples support the view that casting off the scapegoat, marked by a crimson thread, carries sexual implications. Not all references to red dye in the Bible, however, connote sexuality. For example, fabric dyed red appears in the Eshet Hayil poem at the conclusion of Proverbs. Noegel comments: “The poet makes clear that he is inverting the language of seduction when he concludes: “Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears God is to be praised” (31:30). Such inversion and the multiple references to textiles allows the poet to say that she provides for her household by clothing them all in scarlet (31:21).”²⁸ The prominence of red dye in the “Eshet Hayil” poem reinforces the notion that colors in the Bible carry layered and often opposite meanings, representing a broad spectrum of ideas. The color red in particular sits at a highly symbolic tension-point. On the one hand, red is linked to sexuality, desire, passion, and even sin.²⁹On the other hand, it also represents devotion, sacrifice, and holiness, as suggested by its prominence in the sanctuary fabrics and priestly vestments. We might describe the broader thematic range of red as one of attachment, with the erotic and the devotional representing its opposing poles.³⁰ The tradition of marking the scapegoat with a scarlet thread supports the view that the rite carries a message of attachment, with the spectator directing the focus towards devotion or erotica. This implication is further reinforced by the multiple resonances between the Jacob-Esau pair and the two Yom Kippur goats, noted by Ramban. The Sair L’Azazel reverberates throughout the Yaakov-Esau cycle and may be detected as early as their birth, where Esau is depicted as sair, hairy, evoking the word seir, goat.³¹ Esau is further described to be a skilled hunter with reference to the color red when identifying the stew that Jacob prepared. His ruddy appearance and his sobriquet Edom, red, convey his association with that color.³² The theme of goats, related above to the Satyr, laden with sexual undertones, accompanies Yaakov as well throughout his development. Yaakov is initially described as a tent dweller, which the text itself associates with the shepherding of flocks which includes goats.³³ Rivka’s preparation of two goats for Jacob to present to his father when wresting the patriarchal blessing, whose skins he dons in impersonation of Esau, symbolically casts Yaakov in the role of a goat.³⁴ Later, Jacob becomes a shepherd, tending Laban’s herd of goats.³⁵ In broad strokes, the twins,³⁶ Yaakov and Esau, evoke the two outwardly identical Yom Kippur goats.³⁷ Sexual undertones reflecting both ends of the spectrum are also part of the Yaakov-Esau midrashic landscape. The midrash frames Esau as the perpetra- tor of sexual violence. Midrash Aggadah accuses him of rape,³⁸ and several other midrashim allege that he was involved in multiple incestuous relationships.³⁹ Rashi in his Torah commentary identifies five such cases in Esau’s genealogical table.⁴⁰ Whether we attribute these incidents to peshat or to polemics,⁴¹ the text makes it clear that Yitzchak and Rivka were extremely distraught over Esau’s marital choices.⁴² In stark contrast to Esau, however, Yaakov’s chastity is attested by the Talmud, when it asserts that not even once did Yaakov experience a nocturnal emission.⁴³ While these homiletic interpretations should not be conflated with the plain sense of the text, they nevertheless underscore the gamut of sexual undertones that form the fabric of the Yaakov-Esau dichotomy.

The Dual Inclinations of the Seirim of Yom Kippur

Viewed together, the two Seirim of Yom Kippur embody the concept of a sexual continuum, with the Sair L’Azazel and the Sair L’Hashem representing equal yet opposite ends of that spectrum. Rabbinic tradition often associates the sexual drive with the inclination to evil.⁴⁴ However, the very same inclination is also recognized to be fundamental to gainful activity, including the attainment of holiness. The Song of Songs, a love song in which two young lovers are understood to represent the relationship between God and Israel, is an excellent example of this. The midrash states “Were it not for the evil inclination, man would neither build a house, marry a wife, beget children, nor engage in business.”⁴⁵ The Talmud illustrates this point in a story in which prayers for the banishment of the evil inclination resulted in chickens no longer laying eggs.⁴⁶ The prescient rabbinic understanding of the vital role of sexuality in human motivation resonates with the modern understanding regarding the fundamental role of sexuality in human psychology.⁴⁷ The Seirim of Yom Kippur; the Sair L’Hashem and the Sair L’Azazel, may be understood to represent this duality. Man has the capacity to channel his drives either to the worship of God, as represented by the Sair L’Hashem, or toward the fulfillment of his carnal desires, as represented by the Sair L’Azazel. Ramban’s comments on the Sair L’Azazel may be understood as a poetic expression of what we would today refer to as libido. The Sair L’Azazel is not presented as an offering. Rather, it is cast off a rocky cliff and obliterated. This eradication, juxtaposed with the Sair L’Hashem, represents the subjugation of man’s primal drives to the higher moral authority of his superego. Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik also takes a psychodynamic approach to the Sair L’Azazel. He suggests that the casting of lots reflects the supposition that the sinner chose to sin due to forces beyond his control. According to Rav Soloveitchik, the Sair L’Azazel represents the transgressor’s distraught state of mind as he begs forgiveness.⁴⁸ The duality of the two Yom Kippur goats may be further illuminated through the lens of quantum entanglement. In physics, entanglement describes the phenomenon whereby two particles, though separated by vast distances, remain mysteriously linked, such that the state of one instantaneously determines the state of the other. I would like to suggest that the seirim of Yom Kippur may be viewed as a ritual embodiment of this principle. Although outwardly indistinguishable and subjected to divergent fates, their destinies remain inseparably bound. The choice of the lot cast upon one goat irrevocably defines the lot of the other, much as the measurement of one entangled particle fixes the condition of its pair. This approach resonates with the oral law which mandates the induction of an entirely new set of goats if either one of the Yom Kippur goats (following the lottery) became ritually disqualified.⁴⁹ Viewed as a mysteriously linked set, the Sair L’Hashem and the Sair L’Azazel reflect not only the polarity of human inclination but also its entangled unity. The sacred and the profane, the creative and the destructive, are not discrete domains but interconnected states upon the same continuum of human desire. With this enriched understanding, we may now revisit the inscrutable word, Azazel. Saadiah Gaon and Rashi opted for the traditional topographical interpretation based on metathesis; azaz el, a mightily rugged and utterly desolate place. A more straightforward peshat oriented reading, however, is ‘the goat which has gone or disappeared’. This interpretation reads Azazel as the combination of ez (goat) and azal (gone),⁵⁰ and is supported by the Septuagint.⁵¹ It also suggests the term Sair L’Azazel to be synonymous with its moniker, Sair Hamishtaleach. Neither interpretation, however, is mutually exclusive. Anomalous words in the Bible often carry deliberate ambiguity, with each interpretation lending another important layer of meaning. By blending the two approaches we may arrive at a richer understanding. The ez-azal suggestion may be understood as a subtle reference to Esau, noted above for his metaphoric association with the Sair L’Azazel, who left the ancestral Lands of Canaan and his covenantal heritage for azaz- el, the rugged cliffs and steep canyons of the Seir region.⁵² Interpreting the Sair L’Azazel as a metaphor of Esau’s departure from Yaakov with Mount Seir as his destination gains further support from a nuanced play on words. The individual appointed to escort the Sair L’Azazel to the desert is called “ish iti.”⁵³ The homophone, iti, is uttered by Yaakov to Esau at the time of their fateful departure; Jacob to the Land of Israel, and Esau to Seir: So let my lord go on ahead of his servant, while I move along slowly at the pace of the flocks, leiti . . .”⁵⁴ The construct ez-azal references Esau and his decision to abandon the ancestral covenant, symbolizing the choice of the sinner to follow the path of carnal desire.⁵⁵ The idea inherent in azaz-el is that ultimately, that path is one of nihilism and self-destruction. The amalgamation of these two interpretations of Azazel, azaz-el and ez-azal underscores the central role that human psycho-spiritual forces play in the Yom Kippur service.

The Sacrificial Context of the Sair L’Azazel

The latent connection between the two Seirim of Yom Kippur and human sexuality offers insight into the theological implications of this enigmatic commandment. As noted above, though fundamentally bound together with its sacrificial counterpart, the blood of the Sair L’Azazel was neither placed nor sprinkled on the Temple altar.⁵⁶ Sacrificial offerings are generally speaking,⁵⁷ only effective for unintentional transgression.⁵⁸ That being said, the licentious behavior connoted by the Sair L’Azazel is counted among the three gravest of offenses.⁵⁹ Sacrifice does not atone for the three cardinal sins; however, teshuva, repentance, may. Maimonides enumerates twenty-four instances in which repentance is ineffective. Yet, surprisingly, he concludes that list with the following seeming reversal:⁶⁰ “Whereas all these instances and others like them may stand in the way of repentance, nonetheless, they do not categorically eliminate the possibility of repentance. If one repents for these offenses, that person is a penitent deserving of a portion in the world to come.” The Sair L’Azazel is the very embodiment of the message of Yom Kippur: the enduring possibility of repentance. Through this lens its role becomes clear, situating even the most extreme transgressions within the framework of return and purification.

Conclusion

Ramban’s cryptic remarks offer a profound articulation of the inner logic of the Yom Kippur rite. Ramban’s identification of Azazel with Samael, his association of the two goats with Jacob and Esau, and his unsettling language of a “gift” dramatize the duality of the human condition. The Sair L’Azazel embodies the raw, unrefined force of sexual attachment; aggressive, and acquisitional. It closely aligns with the trajectory of Esau and the exile from covenantal purpose. The lottery acknowledges this force as it neutralizes it. By casting the goat away rather than offering it upon the altar, the ritual affirms that our inner demons must be confronted, subordinated, and ultimately rejected. Ramban’s commentary reveals the Sair L’Azazel as the ritualized externalization of man’s most perilous inclinations, whose destruction makes possible the atonement enacted by its entangled twin, the Sair L’Hashem. The rite emerges as a bold theological statement: holiness is not achieved by denying the darker forces within the human psyche, but rather, by recognizing them, restraining them, and decisively choosing covenant over chaos. The Sair L’Azazel emerges from Ramban’s discussion as a profound representation of the dynamics of sexuality, sin, and atonement. The rich symbolic framework of the Sair L’Azazel points to a complex understanding of human behavior. Ramban’s interpretation of this enigmatic Torah commandment provides a framework for reading the Yom Kippur service as a sophisticated system in which Torah law and human psychology intersect. The enigmatic Yom Kippur rite of the Sair L’Azazel, as interpreted by Ramban, conveys the fundamental message that no sinner is irredeemable. As long as one is alive, the gates of repentance remain open.