07 Nov BLAME-SHIFTING AND INGRATITUDE: THE ANCIENT PROFESSIONS OF ISHMAEL

Playing the victim,
also known as
utilizing the victim
card, encompasses
the act of fabricating
or intensifying
feelings of victimhood
for various purposes. These reasons
can include making their actions seem
okay, changing what’s happening around
them. When an individual consistently
embraces this behavior, they are often
termed a “professional victim.” This label
is used to describe someone who regularly
portrays themselves as a victim in diverse
situations, often with the aim of eliciting
sympathy or leniency from others. This

pattern is observable in the Palestinian-
Israeli conflict, where initial acts of

aggression by Palestinians are followed
by a swift shift to a victimization narrative
when Israel responds.
Ishmael; The victim.
As we delve into the Torah portions and
learn more about Ishmael’s character, it’s
remarkable to see his persistent negative
behavior, mirroring the ongoing narratives
we witness today. We read about Ishmael,
at a very young age (sources suggest
around 16), attempting to kill Isaac by
shooting arrows at him. When Sarah imenu
witnesses this, she implores Abraham
avinu to send Ishmael away from their
household. Although Abraham is hesitant
to do so, shortly thereafter, Hashem
appears to him and instructs him to heed
Sarah’s request.
As Ishmael and his mother, Hagar, find
themselves in the desert, she distances
herself from him. The Midrash Raba
tells us that, during this time, she began
to voice blames and complaints against
Hashem for her son’s misfortunes. This
situation highlights a recurring pattern
of playing the victim. Initially, Ishmael
engages in aggressive and harmful
behavior, including attempted murder and
terrorization. However, when others take
measures to protect themselves or respond
to these actions, Ishmael and his mother
cry to the world about how they are the
ones suffering as victims.
Someone who only observes Hagar and
Ishmael in their distressing situation
might initially perceive them as victims.
However, when considering the complete
context and the reasons behind their
expulsion from Sarah’s household, a more
comprehensive understanding emerges,
revealing that they were not victims but

rather the instigators of the situation.
Avimelech; The victim.
The same pattern of behavior emerges
when Avimelech, the king of Gerar, takes
Sarah away from Abraham. Hashem
appears to him in a dream, warning that
failure to return her will result in his death.
Instead of recognizing his wrongdoing,
Avimelech shifts the blame towards
Hashem, asserting that Abraham had
informed him that Sarah was his sister,
as if it was permissible to take her if she
were his sibling. The following morning,
he angrily confronts Abraham, saying,
“What have you done to us? How have I
sinned against you that you brought upon
me and my kingdom such a grave offense?
Deeds that should not be committed have
you done to me.”
At first glance, someone hearing
Avimelech’s side of the story might
sympathize with the grave danger he found
himself in. However, when examining
the entire narrative, it becomes clear that
Avimelech was not the victim but rather
the wrongdoer in this situation.
Pharaoh; The victim.
The same scenario unfolded with the
Egyptian king, Pharaoh, when Abraham
and Sarah arrived in Egypt. Pharaoh’s
officials, captivated by Sarah’s beauty,
took her and presented her to Pharaoh.
Subsequently, Hashem afflicted him and
his household with severe plagues. Instead
of recognizing his wrongdoing, Pharaoh
shifted the blame to Abraham, portraying
himself as the victim, and said, “What is
this you have done to me? Why did you
not tell me she is your wife”He appeared
to imply that it was somehow acceptable
to take her because she wasn’t a married
woman, seemingly oblivious to the fact
that his actions were criminal.”
Ingratitude: A Tale of Unappreciation
Let’s revisit the Torah portion we discussed
earlier, when Sarah expels Ishmael and his
mother Hagar from her household, as she
realizes that such individuals should not
reside in her home, Hagar and Yishmael
find themselves in the desert without water.
Yishmael is dying of thirst, and his mother
leaves him to his fate. The verse states that
she distanced herself twice the amount
required to shoot an arrow. Rav Ovadia
of Bartinura (נקא עמר ספר (questions this
distance, asking why it was necessary.
If she merely didn’t want to witness his
suffering, a shorter distance would have
sufficed. So, why did she go so far?
Rav Ovadia of Bartinura provides an

explanation: Hagar
distanced herself so
significantly because
she was apprehensive
that, in his desperate
state, Yishmael might
attempt to harm her
by shooting arrows at
her. This precaution
is troubling, as the
notion of a son
potentially resorting
to violence against
his own mother, the
one who gave him life
and cared for him, underscores a profound
ingratitude. It suggests that Hagar was
aware of the ungrateful and untamed
nature of the child she was raising.
This ingratitude can also be observed
in contemporary instances. Take, for
example, Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar (ימח
שמו(. Israeli doctors saved his life when
he was in prison in Israel, successfully
treating a brain tumor. Remarkably,
this occurred while Sinwar was serving
multiple life sentences for his involvement
in the kidnapping and murder of two Israeli
soldiers back in 1988. After his release
in a prisoner exchange for Israeli soldier
Gilad Shalit in 2011, Sinwar immediately
assumed a leadership role within Hamas
and directed the organization’s ongoing
campaign against the very people who had
saved his life.
Another recent news story involved
a woman who gave birth to a child in
need of a kidney to survive. A Jewish
father, who had tragically lost his son in
the war, selflessly donated his kidney to
save the child’s life. However, after the
successful operation, the mother expressed
a disturbing hope that her son would grow
up to become a “shahid” – a term often
associated with a suicide bomber.

I remember, seven years ago when then-
candidate Trump was running for office,

he recited the snake poem about Arabs
which really sums it up:
On her way to work one morning
Down the path alongside the lake

A tender-hearted woman saw a poor half-
frozen snake

His pretty colored skin had been all frosted
with the dew
“Oh well,” she cried, “I’ll take you in and
I’ll take care of you”
“Take me in, oh, tender woman
Take me in, for heaven’s sake

Take me in, tender woman,” sighed the
snake
Now she wrapped him up all cozy in a
covertures of silk
And laid him by the fireside with some
honey and some milk
Now she hurried home from work that
night, as soon she arrived
Now she found that pretty snake she’d
taken in had been revived
“Take me in, oh, tender woman
Take me in, for heaven’s sake
Take me in, tender woman,” sighed the
snake
Now she clutched him to her bosom,
“You’re so beautiful,” she cried
“But if I hadn’t brought you in by now you
might have died”
Now she stroked his pretty skin again and
then kissed and held him tight
But instead of saying thanks, that snake
gave her a vicious bite
“Take me in, oh, tender woman
Take me in, for heaven’s sake
Take me in, tender woman,” sighed the
snake
“I saved you,” cried that woman
“And you’ve bitten me, even why?
And you know your bite is poisonous and
now I’m gonna die”
“Oh, quite, silly woman,” said that reptile
with a grin
“Now you knew very well I was a snake
before you brought me in”
Summary: If we believe that surrendering
land, providing job opportunities, and
boosting their economy will bring us
peace, we may be misunderstanding the
true nature of the situation. Just like a
snake, it doesn’t care about the favors you
extend; it may still bite the very hands that
feed it.