WHY DO YOU HATE?

Iranian president calls Trump and tells him, I had a wonderful dream last night. I could see America, the beautiful country, and on each house, I saw a banner."

"What did it say on the banners?" Trump asks. Mahmud replies, "UNITED STATES OF IRAN."

Trump says, "You know, Mahmud, I am happy you called, because believe it or not, last night I had a similar dream. I could see all of Tehran, and it was more beautiful than ever, and on each house flew an enormous banner."

"What did it say on the banners?" Mahmud asks. Trump replies, "I don't know. I can't read Hebrew."

Iran is in the news again, just as it was 2300 years ago, in the days of Purim. Then his name was Haman; today his name is.... Their objective remains the same.

Will Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu manage to persuade President Trump that America threatens Iran with military action if it crosses the red line in the development of its nuclear power? Will Israel strike Iran? Will the US support such a strike? Can Israel take down the nuclear reactor? What is the appropriate course of action? I, unlike many journalists and bloggers, don’t know the answer to these questions, which are all being analyzed in the media.

But what I do want to address—and it is a theme which must be addressed—is something we ought to understand about the threat and hatred coming from Iran and its leader. Many Jews are uncomfortable with the notion of threatening Iran over its nuclear ambitions. They maintain that just as we learned to live with Russia having nuclear arms, we have to accept the fact that Iran can have them as well. The position that Israel must, if all else fails, attack Iran is in their opinion advocated by “war mongers.”

This is symptomatic of a mind-set that has taken hold in many corners of the civilized world—and it is manifested again in the contemporary heated debates about a possible Israeli attack on Iran. Having suffered through the horrors of Oct 7, many of the people and leaders of Western European countries have turned into pacifists, seeing all war as being wrong and believing that all differences are simply a matter of negotiation and compromise.

The issue is addressed, interestingly, in a deeply perplexing Midrash on the portion we read on this Shabbat, the one preceding Purim, known as “Parshat Zachor,” about our war against the Amalekite nation. Moses tells the people of Israel:

Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt… Do not forget.

Why this intense enmity toward Amalek? “Blot out the name of Amelek!” “Do not forget!” In Exodus, the Torah says “G-d shall be at war with Amalek for

all generations.” Why for all generations? Can’t we forget, or forgive, and move on? Are we a people of vengeance and revenge?

There is a very perplexing Midrash on this portion of the Torah:

 “Remember what Amalek did to you on the road when you were going out of Egypt,” the people of Israel said, “Moses our master! One verse states: ‘Remember what Amalek did to you.’ Another verse states: ‘Remember the day of Shabbat, to sanctify it.’ How can both be fulfilled? This one is ‘Remembered’ and that one is ‘Remember’!”

Moses said to them “A cup of spiced wine is not the same as a cup of vinegar; yet one is a cup and the other is a cup. There is a remembrance to keep and sanctify the day of Shabbat, and there is a remembrance to punish [Amalek]...”

This entire conversation seems strange. Why did the people of Israel have a problem with remembering both the sanctity of Shabbat and the evil of Amalek?

Once we understand Israel’s question, perhaps we’ll understand Moses’ enigmatic answer.

The Israelites had two enemies in the days of Moses: the Egyptians and the Amalekites. The Egyptians enslaved the Israelites. They turned them into a forced labor colony. They oppressed them. Pharaoh commanded them to drown every male Israelite child. It was attempted genocide. Yet about them, Moses commands:

Do not despise an Egyptian, because you were strangers in their land.

The Amalekites did no more than attack the Israelites once, an attack that they successfully repelled. Yet Moses commands, “Remember.” “Do not forget.” “Blot out the name.” Why the difference?

The answer is simple and critical. There are two forms of hate in the world— just like there are two forms of love. The Mishnah in Ethics of the Fathers distinguishes between two types of love: One created by a reason (I love you because you give me pleasure, or you assist me…). When the reason is gone, the love vanishes. Then there is love that is not rational, essential and unconditional; such a love endures forever.

Hate, the antithesis of love, professes the same mechanism. There is a hate that has its source in rationality, even if it is a mistaken rationality. I hate you because I perceive you as a threat; I hate you because… I may be wrong in my calculation of you, myself, and the situation at hand; but in this case there is hope for the hate to be mitigated: if I can come to realize that the reason for the hate is baseless, the hate will dissipate. It was brought on by a reason; when the reason is gone, the hate soon vanishes.

But there is another form of hate, unconditional, irrational, and illogical. With irrational hate it is impossible to reason.

That was the difference between the Amalekites and the Egyptians. The Egyptians’ hatred and fear of the Israelites was not completely irrational, even if it was terribly wrong.

Precisely the opposite was true of the Amalekites. They attacked the Israelites when they were “weary and weak.” They focused their assault on those who were “lagging” and posed no danger. Why attack them? This was irrational, groundless hate; this was hate without any benefit.

This message is indicated in Moses’ words we read in Parshat Zachor.

However, the Jewish people have difficulty with this commandment to blot out Amalek.

Their question is strikingly moving: If we truly remember the Shabbat, which represents the notion that G-d created our world, how can there be such irredeemable evil in our world? Surely even Amalek’s animosity is not incurable; surely, he too has a “spark of innocence” within him. Even his hatred must contain some good in it, somehow motivated by a phobia of sorts, or a suspicion, or fear for his own life and survival. If so, there must be a way to talk sense to him, to reach a compromise. Why the need to “blot out the memory of Amalek?”

Wow. Good question: Giving up on Amalek seems insulting, first and foremost, to the Creator of the universe, to the G-d who created Amalek!

And Moses gives them a very profound response:

There is wine and there is vinegar. One is tasty; the other is sour and tarty. One brings joy to the soul, the other is acid to the soul. Yet one comes from the other: Vinegar comes from wine. The very “wine” G-d gives us, some people can make vinegar. The world is G-d’s world, as expressed in the mitzvah of Shabbat, yet Amalek takes this wine and turns it into vinegar.

How? Because, in Moses’ words “this is a cup, and this is a cup.” A “cup” represents limitation. Even when the cup of wine is filled to the top, it is confined in the parameters of the cup. In our world, Moses is saying, even on the Shabbat, the flow of wine is limited and confined in a “cup;” it does not flow freely to penetrate every nuke and cranny of our universe. G-d’s presence, which ought to inspire the love and unity between all mankind since we all come from ONE source, is concealed in a “cup.”

This, friends, is the hatred that comes today from Iran, Hamas, Hezbollah, Houties and its allies.

So, what do you do with such hate?

Let us see what Mordechai did during the Purim saga. He understood that making compromises with Haman was futile. Mordechai didn't say, "The Jews will evacuate half of Shushan", so that Haman will be able to live in a ‘Judenrein’ city. Mordechai understood that the obstacle to peace was not the Jewish presence in one city, but their presence in any city. It was not the one who was hated, but the one who hated, who needed to change, so Mordechai did not bow.

We must always remember that Amalek does not die, but neither does the Jewish people. Attacked so many times over the centuries, it still lives, giving testimony to the victory of the G-d of love over the myths and madness of hate. As long as we remain connected to  G-d through Torah and Mitzvot, we will prevail.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky