10 Jan SHEMOS: WHY DO WE FIGHT SO MUCH?

Moshe Faced Two
Enemies: One He
Could Handle; the
Other Eluded Him
The War Is Over?
A man in Germany felt
that he needed to confess, so he went to his
priest.
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
During World War Two, I hid a Jew in my
attic.”
“Well,” answered the priest, “that’s not a
sin.”
“But I made him agree to pay me $50 for
every week he stayed.”
“I admit that wasn’t good, but you did it for
a good cause.”
“Oh, thank you, Father; that eases my mind.
I have one more question…”
“What is that, my son?”
“Do I have to tell him the war is over?”
Two Incidents of Violence
In this week’s portion (Shemos) the Hebrew
Torah introduces us to Moshe, through two
incidents (Exodus, Chapter 2): “It happened
in those days that Moshe grew up and he

went out to his brethren and observed their
burdens; and he saw an Egyptian man
striking a Hebrew man of his brethren. He
turned this way and that way and he saw
that there was no man, so he struck down
the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand.”
The Torah continues:
“He went out the next day, and behold! Two
Hebrew men were fighting. He said to the
wicked one, ‘Why would you strike your
fellow’? He replied: ‘Who appointed you as
a prince and leader over us? Do you mean to
kill me as you killed the Egyptian?’ Moshe
was frightened.”
As a result, he escapes from Egypt. Only
later would he return to the country and
liberate his people from slavery. It is no
coincidence that these are the only two
vignettes the Torah shares with us
concerning Moshes youth in Egypt, and that
the Torah emphasizes that these two
episodes occurred during two consecutive
days. It seems that these two episodes
somehow encapsulate Moshe’ life-mission
and destiny; they seem to capture his
particular story. How so?
Two Conditions of Exile
Exile for the Jewish people consists of two

dynamics – oppression from
without and erosion from within.
The former might be more painful,
but the latter is more lethal. Hence,
the first and emblematic Jewish
leader, Moshe, as he is growing into
his position, is immediately
confronted with these two problems
that would define the Jewish
condition in exile.
On the first and most basic level,
Jewish exile – from Egypt till today
– has been defined by the “Egyptian
man striking a Hebrew man.” Persecution,
abuse, oppression, expulsion, random
torture and murders, even genocide, have
been the fate of the Jewish people from
Pharaoh to Hitler. In almost every generation
the Jew needed to reckon with the tragedy
of baseless Jewish hatred that never ceased
to claim innocent lives. The Jew turns this
way and that way and sees “that there is no
man” who cares enough. The world—The
UN—will remain silent.
Yet with all of its crude and incomprehensible
brutality, Moshe finds a solution to this
crisis. “He struck down the Egyptian and
hid him in the sand.” Moshe taught us, that
there are times when we have no choice but
to take up arms and strike the enemy, in
order to protect innocent lives. The use
of moral violence must always be the
last resort, but when all other attempts
fail, righteous might is the only response
to immoral violence.
The Second Day
On the second day, after Moshe rescued
his fellow Jew from the external enemy,
he is confronted with a new challenge:
A Jew fighting a Jew. One would think
that the solution to this problem would
be easier than the former one. After all,
this is only a quarrel between Jews
themselves. Yet, astoundingly, in this
incident Moshe fails. His attempt to
create reconciliation gets thrown back at
him. In a typical Jewish response,
Moshe is told: “Who appointed you as a
prince and leader over us?” Who do you
think you are to tell me how to behave?
Anti-Semitism is dangerous, very
dangerous, and we need much
determination and courage to combat it
wherever and whenever it rears its ugly
head. Yet since the enemy is clearly
defined, we have no problem identifying
the target and eliminating it, either
through peaceful methods or through
justified conflict. However, discord
within the Jewish people – the strife and
mistrust between communities as well
as the animosity within communities
and families – is a silent disease that eats
up at our core, and does not allow us to

experience liberation. At first it does not
seem so destructive; its negative potency
shows up only in time, especially in moment
of crisis when we need each other most but
the trust has been eroded.
The Jewish people has often been threatened
by hostile civilizations, from ancient Egypt,
Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greece, and
Rome, to the Third Reich and the Soviet
Union in the twentieth century, and by
fundamentalist Islam in our own times. But
the most fateful injuries have been those the
Jewish people has inflicted on itself: the
division of the kingdom in the days of the
First Temple, which brought about the
eventual defeat of both halves and the loss
of ten of the twelve tribes; the internecine
rivalry in the last days of the Second
Temple, which brought about the destruction
of Jerusalem and the longest exile in
Jewish—indeed, in human—history.
There have been only three periods of
Jewish political sovereignty in four
thousand years. Two ended in and because
of internal dissension. The third age of
sovereignty began in 1948, and already
Israeli society is dangerously fragmented.
The democratic process alone does not
guarantee the existence of the body politic;
it needs also some shared culture and
identity—a shared sense of purpose and
destiny. Israel at war is defined by its
enemies. Israel in pursuit of peace is less
easily defined and may erode from within.
When Moshe, more than three millennia
ago, observed the Jew fighting the Jew, he
grew frightened. Moshe knew that as long
as unity prevailed among his people, no
force from without could crush them. But
the moment they became fragmented
within, their future is dim.
Today, in 2022, we are still in exile, and we
suffer from both problems. There are the
people who wish to strike us down, and
there is conflict within our own ranks. And,
just as it was with Moshe, it seems at times
that the former challenge is easier to address
than the latter. It is easier to gain a consensus
concerning Ahmadinejad and Hamas than it
is to create peace in a family and community.
Will we at least this time around have the
courage to dull our egos, open our hearts
and embrace each of our brothers and sisters
with unconditional love?