Bullies, Patriarchy and Death of the First Born Sons

We cheer for the little guy when we see a bully making threats and throwing their weight around. It is the principle that “Might does not make right! Right makes right[i]” that is at the heart of the story in which God killed the first-born sons of Pharoah’s Egypt[ii]. This principle is also a significant aspect of the most important story of Judaism, the Exodus from Egypt, that is acknowledged twice daily by religious Jews. To explore this further, we need to consider that dangerous word, patriarchy.

I suggest we rethink the Exodus story. The common understanding of the story is that one bad man named Pharoah and his people used their power to oppress members of a powerless group of foreigners, the Hebrews. Then, like in an action movie, God was stronger than the Pharoah, so God beat up the Egyptians with 10 plagues and the Hebrews were freed by the relatively weaker Egyptians.

There is another way of reading the story, that follows the interpretation of the late Rabbi JB Soloveitchik[iii]. In considering his approach, let us not worry about the archaeological evidence about ancient Egypt, and just follow the argument in the text to understand what it might mean to us today[iv].  

Egypt was the superpower of their time and very much a patriarchal society where “might did make right”. As is often the case, the ways in which societies are organised are also reflected in the dynamics in families. The father was the head bully in the family, and the first-born male was not far behind. The first-born males cruelly dominated their siblings and were seen as being of higher status in the community, which enabled them to bully some more.

This concept of the first-born son is linked to the idea that he is the father’s “might and first manifestation of [his] vigour”[v]. In other words, the first
born son symbolised the father’s manhood and was expected to assert his manliness over others.

In the twisted society of the Pharaoh, these ruthless men brutally mistreated the Hebrew slaves. It is for this reason that they are central to the process of breaking down the oppressive system of slavery and are killed by God during the plague of the death of the first born.

The intimidation of the Pharaoh is not replaced by a scarier tyrant (despite the violent plagues). When God appointed a messenger to free the Hebrews from this society, He did not recruit a warrior. Instead, He sent Moses, a shepherd with a speech impediment.  

The Hebrews were invited to reimagine the idea of the first-born son when they were commanded to temporarily set aside such a child as “holy to God”[vi], until a ceremony when they are a month old called Pidyon Haben – “redeeming the son”. When the Torah introduced this commandment, it did not reference the father’s forcefulness; instead, the Torah highlights that the first born is the one who “opened their mother’s womb”. The word for “womb” in Hebrew is rechem, which is closely linked to the word for “mercy”, rachem, and to one of the Jewish names of God, HaRachaman, “the Merciful One”. The first-born child is met with boundless love by their mother, whose baby is her greatest joy.

May we all orient our lives around love and mercy and see these qualities prevail over violence and threats.

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[i] T.H. White, The Once and Future King

[ii] Exodus 4:22-23, 11:4-5

[iii] David, A, (2020) Drosh Darash Yosef, Mosad Harav Kook, Jerusalem, p 108.

[iv] See Blidstein, G. J. who makes a similar point in Rabbi Soloveitchik’s Abraham, https://traditiononline.org/rabbi-soloveitchiks-abraham/

[v] Genesis, 49:3, Deuteronomy 21:17

[vi] Exodus 13:2, 12-16

Is Rebuke Degrading? The Case of Joseph’s Brothers

“A stinging rebuke” is an apt description of an experience that can be deeply hurtful. Ouch! Already in Talmudic times, observers lamented that those who were able to graciously accept such ethical criticism were rare. Equally rare were those who could deliver it well[i]. As unpleasant as getting such feedback is, it can be done in a way that preserves dignity and does not need to be degrading.

In their book The Courage To Be Disliked, Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga assert that one must not rebuke or praise. Because both create hierarchical relationships between the one praising or rebuking and the recipient of these forms of feedback, the recipient is positioned beneath the one who passes judgment [ii]. While the authors can be assumed to be responding to their Japanese context and cultural norms, they also draw heavily on the theories of Alfred Adler, one the giants of 20th-century Viennese psychology. Adler insisted that all human relationships should be horizontal rather than vertical ones, and that both paise and rebuke reinforce vertical ways of relating.

I do not agree. Rebuke is possible within a horizontal relationship. It is possible between spouses who deeply respect each other or fellow adherents of a set of teachings or principles. Equals can call each other out over their failures to live to their shared standards.

The conflation of the delivery of rebuke with status difference appears to be an error made by the brothers of Joseph, when confronted by Joseph regarding the harm they did to him and their father when they sold him into slavery [iii].

Many years after the evil deed, Joseph reminded his brothers of what they had done. “I am Joseph, your brother, whom you sold into Egypt [iv]”. Joseph asked his brothers sarcastically [v], “is my father still alive?” This rhetorical [vi] question followed a monologue by Judah, one of the brothers, about the close bond their father, Jacob, had with his children, and that if one of them was to be taken away from him, Jacob would die of grief. Following Judah’s assertion, Joseph implicitly confronted his brothers with the terrible suffering they inflicted on their father when they sold Joseph [vii]. By their own logic, the brothers had nearly killed their father, in addition to betraying their own brother.

The brothers felt terrible, stunned and overwhelmed, not just by their shock in discovering that the high Egyptian official was in fact their brother, but also by their shame and guilt viii].

Joseph reassured his brothers that although they were responsible for their deeds and for the bad thoughts about him that led them to sell him, the main outcome of their deeds turned out to be beneficial [ix]; he was now in a position to feed and save them during the famine.

For many years after this conversation, the past appeared to have been resolved. Joseph had forgiven his brothers and they, together with their father, Jacob [x], dined at his royal table.  

However, when Jacob died almost two decades later, the brothers’ guilt resurfaced. They worried that Joseph might hate them [xi], projecting their fears on to him. They were so troubled by their guilt that they half- hoped Joseph would hate them [xii]. His hatred would be easier to bear than his kindness [xiii].

The brothers assumed a vertical relationship with Joseph, with him at the top and themselves at the bottom, his rebuke from years earlier ringing in their ears as they pleaded with him - as if he were God - to bear their sins [xiv]. They then offered themselves as slaves. Joseph did not accept their characterisation of their relationship as vertical, reminding them of their shared human status. He asked them, “Am I instead of God? [xv]”  He wanted them to understand that although they had done wrong, he had long forgiven them. He also reminded them that God is the only One to whom it was appropriate to be subservient.

Perhaps it was the fact that the brothers were, in their own minds, stuck in a vertical dynamic with Joseph that prevented them from forgiving themselves and restoring a horizontal relationship with their magnanimous, but briefly critical brother.

We all fall short sometimes. It hurts to recognise it. Hopefully, it can sting less if we recognise that our shortcomings do not make us less than those who point it out to us. To err is human but to accept rebuke is somewhat divine.

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[i] Talmud, Arachin 16b

[ii] Kishimin, I, and Koga, F, (2017), The Courage To Be Disliked, Allen & Unwin, pp. 177-180

[iii] A summary of the story as it is told in Genesis, Chapters 37-50.
Jacob had twelve sons but favoured his second youngest Joseph. He gave him a special coat. Joseph’s brothers were jealous of him and intended to kill him, but in the end sold him into slavery.

Joseph was taken to Egypt, where he was a slave. He was subsequently falsely accused of seducing his master’s wife and was thrown into prison. Directly, from prison he was surprisingly appointed to high office after interpreting troubling dreams for the Pharoah. As the second highest official in Egypt, Joseph – now with a new Egyptian name, Tzafnat Paneach - orchestrated a program of food storage to prepare for famine.

When all his brothers except for the youngest, Benjamin, travelled to Egypt to access some of the surplus food during the famine it was an opportunity for Joseph to meet his brothers. They did not recognise him but he recognised them.

Joseph-Tzafnat accused his brothers of being spies and told them that they would only prove their innocence if they brought their youngest brother Benjamin with them. After imprisoning them for three days, he released nine of them to return home with food to their hungry families. He kept one brother, Simeon, as a hostage to compel them to bring Benjamin.

When Benjamin arrived, Joseph contrived to have evidence of theft planted in Benjamin’s bag and threatened to enslave Benjamin. This presented an opportunity for the brothers to demonstrate loyalty to Benjamin in a situation that was somewhat of a reenactment of the situation of their betrayal of Joseph and opportunity for complete their repentance for their betrayal of him.

The brothers passed this test, with Judah offering himself as a slave instead of Benjamin and argued that if Benjamin were not returned to their father, Jacob, the distress would cause Jacob to die.

Joseph revealed his identity to his brothers, and reconciled with them and he forgave them, even though he had not forgotten what they had done and reminded them of them of their deed.

Joseph’s brothers and father subsequently moved to Egypt from their native Canaan and their food and other requirements were provided by Joseph.

When Jacob died, the brothers worried about Joseph taking revenge and offered themselves as slaves. Joseph reassured them that he was not in the place of God and that God made it all turn out for the best.

[iv] Genesis 45:4

[v] The suggestions that Joseph was sarcastic is made by Rabbi Yosef Dov Ber Soloveitchik, in Beis Halevi on the Torah, translated into English by Rabbi Yisroel Isser Zvi Herczeg, the Oliner edition, (2016), Feldheim, p. 168.

[vi][vi] The assumption that it is a rhetorical question is based on the fact that the brothers had told Joseph numerous times before that their father was indeed alive

[vii] Soloveitchik, Y.D.B., based on the Midrash, Bereshis Rabba, 93:10.

[viii] Midrash, Bereshis Rabba, 93:10 and as explained by Soloveitchik

[ix] Genesis 45:5-8 and 50:20

[x] Midrash, Bereshis Rabba, 100:8, cited in Rashi.  

[xi] Genesis 50:15

[xii] Ohr Hachayim and Malbim on Genesis both comment on the unusual wording in verse XX. In Biblical Hebrew, if individuals were worried about a possible event they wished to avoid, the word used was פן  (“pen”)  which translates as “lest”. If one hopes for an outcome, the words (“lou”)  לוor (“oolai”) אולי  are used. The use of לו  (“ou”) in this verse implies  that the brothers, at least on some level, hoped for hatred and/or retribution.

[xiii] Malbim

[xiv] David, Avishai, in Drosh Darash Yosef, lessons and sermons on the weekly Torah portion by Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, Hebrew Edition, Mosad HaRav Kook, p. 88-90

[xv] Genesis 50:19

Letting the guard down? On fears and policing

Part of my mind acts as a policeman watching me. Did I do this right? Am I good enough? This self-vigilance and fear is draining.  This week, while I was walking on a nature trail in Ryde, I noticed a sign for walkers that reminded them to “control your dog”. I creatively interpreted it as the need for people to control the ”barking” in the form of repetitive and harsh self-criticism.

I deliberately suggest we “control” the critical voice in our minds, rather than eliminate it, because I think it plays a role in protecting us from wrongdoing. I have been confronted this week with some of the darker sides of humans. I was disturbed to hear about cruelty to men, women and their children who have escaped horrific oppression, because they dared to seek a better life and perhaps because of cultural differences that are seen as a threat (1). In this case, fear of people who are seen as different, is the motivator for cruelty. However, here the critical voice expressing fear of wrongdoing could have motivated these people to do the right thing. Every weekday morning during the current Hebrew month of Elul, Jews sound a ram’s horn called a Shofar, to instil “a sense of trepidation and fear” (2), even “trembling” (3), in order to lead us to repentance and introspection.

Some religious people fear the physical world - its sensual pleasures and material offerings. In a crowded Sydney Mosque, I heard a very young Imam warn against the evils of the “dunya”, the physical world, with great intensity. This week’s Torah reading tells us to appoint police officers at “all our gates” (4). In a metaphoric sense, this is interpreted to mean that we must appoint an internal ”policeman” to monitor our contact with the world that comes through our five senses (5). Societies look eagerly to police to protect them from the vices of their fellow citizens. In the US, this approach has not worked out well, in recent months, for some African Americans. 

Instead of allowing fear to justify excessive policing, we must embrace a healthier kind of fear - not of the common man but of the corruption of those in positions of power. The Torah warns of the bias that can arise from judges accepting bribes (6), which can ultimately cause even an initially righteous judge to lose his mind (7). The Torah insists that a king must be vigilant to ensure that “his heart does not become elevated above his brothers and that he does not stray from God’s commandments” (8). 

One scholar expresses deep distrust of those in power. He suggests that it would be better for those with power to be appointed for fixed terms of three years or less so that their successors could hold them to account and “investigate them to see whether they breached their trusted role”, in the way that Australian Governments often do with their predecessors.  He also insists that, when there is a dispute between one (a ruler) and many (the citizens), we should follow the view of the many. He argues that the risk of “an individual doing wrong out of foolishness, desire or anger, is greater than that happening with the many” (9). Similar sentiments were expressed last week by an eleven-year-old student from a migrant family in Western Sydney. She thought ”the Australian way was right”, because of our system of government that requires, at least in its design, that the will of the people be implemented rather than that of one despotic ruler.

In terms of the sensual temptations themselves, the Torah does not see them as simply bad. On the contrary, we are cautioned against rejecting the pleasures of this world. A person who vows not to drink wine temporarily (10), is seen as having sinned in a sense. Sheikh Soner Coruhlu has a different view of the material/physical world from the one expressed by the young Imam above. He wrote that “The ’Dunya', from my understanding of our tradition, is an opportunity…to draw nearer unto to the Creator by proving one's self worthy of drawing near. The manner in which one draws near to their Lord is … moral excellence while believing in the Most High. The “Dunya” therefore is an opportunity when one is morally and ethically inclined but a threat if one is miserly, oppressive, immoral, unethical etc.” (11).

Fear of our own human vulnerability to do wrong is a necessity and a blessing when it is used wisely and proportionately. Fear of people who appear different from us, is simply bigotry. Being wary of those in positions of power or even of our own internal policeman getting out of control, is vital. 

1)    http://hotline.org.il/en/main/
2)    Sadia Gaon, cited in http://www.chabad.org/holidays/JewishNewYear/template_cdo/aid/4392/jewish/Sounding-of-the-Shofar.htm
3)    Amos 3:6 “If the shofar is sounded in the city, will people not tremble?”
4)    Deuteronomy 16:18
5)    Attributed to Rav Chaim Vital on http://www.shortvort.com/shoftim-parasha/11901-parashas-shoftim-guard-your-senses
6)    Deuteronomy 16:19
7)    Talmud Ketubot, 105a, referring to the taking of bribes
8)    Deuteronomy 17:20
9)    Abarbanel on Shoftim. On the other hand, the commentator Klei Yakar, seems more concerned about the independence of judges. He emphasises the need to protect judges from the potentially corrupting influences of those who install the judges, if they were to retain an influence after they complete the task of installing someone as a judge. The change in form from the beginning to the end of the verse in the Torah that calls for the appointment of judges, is instructive. “Judges and police officers shall you put in all your gates...and they shall judge the people a just justice”. We start with an imperative instruction to the people to תתן appoint judges. This refers to people who are in a position of influence who can help select and appoint the judges. Then the language shifts to talk about what will happen: “they will judge justly”, as if by themselves, with the ‘appointers’ out of the picture. This hints at the need for complete independence of the judiciary from those who appoint them because, if they remain dependent on those people, there will never be justice. There is no naïve assumption of religious leaders retaining purity just by virtue of their office and past righteousness. The political influences on secular judges in Australia and Israel, as it relates to asylum seeker judgements, can also be considered in this light.
10)    A Nazirite who vows not to drink wine among other vows, must bring a sacrifice to atone for rejecting some of God’s gifts, even temporarily
11)    Facebook post, 18.08.2015, https://www.facebook.com/zalman.kastel/posts/10153457332070470?comment_id=10153457499415470&notif_t=like his post continues with the following. “The human being is distinct from the rest of Creation in that it has the capacity to morally judge the outcome of any action or statement it may partake in. Where most of creation will simply follow the whims of their desires, the human being will first analyse what the consequence of following one's desires may be. Will this act harm another person, another animal, the environment, me and so forth. Those who do not use this God given capacity to make such judgements and simply follow their base desires, even when it harms others, behaves in a way that is not unlike the animals”.