Shabbat Shemot
The story of Moshe throughout his life as the leader of the Hebrews was one of constant tension, strife and conflict with his own people, let alone anyone else. Here is just the first example.
“After some time, Moshe had grown up, he went out to see his own family and saw how they were oppressed. He saw an Egyptian beating (or killing) a Hebrew, one of his people.
He looked this way and that and, seeing no one about, he struck down (and killed) the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. When he went out the next day, he found two Hebrews fighting with one another and he said to the offender, “Why do you strike your fellow?”
And he replied, “Who made you a chief to rule over us? Do you mean to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?” Then Moshe was frightened, and said “Surely, what I have done is known! And when Pharaoh heard about it, he wanted to kill Moshe, who then fled…to Midian (Shemot 2:11-15).
The ambiguity of the language is because the Hebrew word to hit, Makeh, is the same word as to kill, and only context can reveal which usage applies here. With Moshe struck the Egyptian, the word implies that it was to kill whether intentional or not. But when the Hebrew was attacking the other Hebrew there is no indication that he actually killed the other, even though the same word is used.
The two Hebrews are not named. But later in the Talmud (Nedarim 64b) they are said to be Datan and Aviram. The two men who joined the Korach rebellion and responded to Moshe with arrogance and scorn (Bamidbar 16:1 and 16:12-14). Which seems unlikely because if they were enemies then it is improbable that so many years later, they were such strong allies. Of course, not impossible. But that is the great thing about Midrashim and Rabbinic interpretation. There are always other ways of looking at texts, other opinions and interpretations, and often we are faced with contradictory if not fantastical options.
But leaving interpretations aside, the only unarguable lesson we derive from this narrative of Datan and Aviram and their identification with the two Hebrews arguing with each other even under conditions of slavery is that we have always been, from the very start, a fractious divided people that can turn on each other at the drop of a hat.
As we face the most challenging era of modern times, both in Israel and the Diaspora, I cannot think of a time when we have been more divided. On every level, religious, political and communal. And yet I draw comfort from the thought that we have always been this way. I doubt if anything will change and the miracle is that we have survived despite ourselves.
