Thursday, January 14, 2016

Death of the Firstborn: Why? A Reflection for Parashat Bo, Saturday 16 January 2016

The twelfth chapter of the Book of Exodus contains the climax of the Plagues against Egypt.  In the previous chapter, the Pharaoh repeatedly refuses Moses’ demand that the Israelites be freed.  This, despite the increasing cost from his refusal.  Now, Hashem instructs Moses regarding the preparations for the Final Plague, Makat Bechorot, the Slaying of the Firstborn.  The Israelites are to prepare a sacrifice, the Paschal Lamb, and daub its blood on the lintels of their doorways.  That way, when the Angel of Death moves through Egypt taking the lives of the firstborn of every family, he will spare the firstborn of the Israelites.
          We know the story.  We read it every year.  And yet, as the narrative turns to this passage, it is difficult not to get caught up in the excitement of the drama.  To experience it as if for the first time.
          If you heard or read my sermon from last week, you know that I consider the recitation of the Plagues to be an essential part of the Seder.  Without it, we are robbed of the high drama and the full Glory of G-d’s power.  Maybe that’s why some liberals want to expunge the Plagues.  They want the narrative to be stripped of its most compelling quality.  They won’t admit this.  They’ll say that we shouldn’t take delight at others’ misfortune.  No argument from me on that point.  But those who want to ban our enjoying the Plagues, are often the most gleeful in their reactions to the misfortune upon those, whom they oppose.
          So if we are to sympathise, at least on some level, with the Egyptians for the plagues that they endured to the point of the Death of their Firsborn, how are we to understand them?  How are we to understand Hashem, who exacted this terrible price from the Egyptians, apparently for their leader’s obstinence?  Isn’t it shown to us earlier in the Torah that G-d wishes to relent from punishing large numbers of people, even if a small number of righteous individuals can be found among them?  Aren’t we taught, that the merit of the few can absolve the many?  If so, how can one man’s continued refusal – even when that one man is the Pharaoh – cause G-d to rain down such severe judgement upon an entire people?
          It’s a reasonable question, but in asking it we reveal our ignorance concerning Ancient Egypt and its laws and society.  There’s far more to the story of Egypt, than the fact that they were ruled over by a tyrannical Pharaoh who singled out and enslaved the Israelite people.
          Repeatedly in history, subject people have suffered from the excesses of capricious rulers.  Let’s use Nazi Germany as an example.  There is no doubt that each and every German citizen ultimately suffered for Hitler’s maniacal plans to conquer the world, and in particular his using the Jewish people as a scapegoat for explaining all of Germany’s problems.  But as historian Daniel Hagen showed us in his blockbuster Hitler’s Willing Executioners, Hitler didn’t not feed his people anything they were unwilling to swallow.  Sure there were individuals who resisted the worst of the Nazi persecutions.  But Hitler did not invent the Germans’ antipathy toward the Jews, he only channeled it.  And not only that of the Germans, but also of the Eastern Europeans.  Even in lands of the East which were brutally occupied and raped by the Nazis, finding accomplices for the destruction of the Jews was not difficult.  And for the Jews, finding assistance from locals was – not only difficult, but mostly impossible.
          Human nature is such that most people, if their own status is secure, will not oppose a tyrannical regime to defend someone who is less fortunate.  And this is so even when the citizen does not imperil himself by opposing the regime.  How much more so, when it does!  Even those who secretly think the regime evil, will often acquiesce if it keeps them safe.  Of course, this is a fallacy; any regime evil enough to single some group or groups in society for persecution and annihilation, will not hesitate to target other groups or individuals at its pleasure.  People in their cowardice, often fail to see this clearly.  It should be self-evident.  But people want to be convinced that their well-being is assured.  So they will ignore – or even be coopted into – evil as long as they’re not its target.
          I think we can make this assumption regarding the Ancient Egyptians.  The Pharaoh enslaved the Israelites to a life of heavy servitude on the counsel of his advisors, who expressed fear that this ‘Certain People’ among all the groups of resident aliens in Egypt, would form a Fifth Column to rise up against his rule.  Given this behavior, I think it requires an extreme stretch of the imagination to think that everybody else would get off scot-free!  More likely, the Pharaoh used various means and degrees to control everybody, native Egyptians being no exception.  Remember how, later in our Torah narrative, the Israelites in the desert rebel against Moses’ leadership?  Sick of the sameness of their diet, they proclaim to him:  At least in Egypt, we had meat to eat!  While it is frequently said that an army marches on its stomach, it is frequently ignored that civilian populations can be controlled by rewarding them with food.    
          So we should not mourn excessively for the Egyptians who suffered under the plagues.  Surely some of them transcended the persecution of the Israelites and tried to be kind to them.  But given what we know of human history, we should assume that most of the Egyptians were Pharaoh’s willing taskmasters.
          One more thought on the Slaying of the Firstborn.  We know that most ancient Near Eastern cultures, had a death-cult whose god required human sacrifices.  In particular, the Sacrifice of the Firstborn.  This is a repeating trope.  In Ancient Canaanite societies, the sacrifice was to the Fire-god Moloch.  Many of the ancient societies of the Fertile Crescent, North Africa and Arabia had a similar cult.  The god who required this sacrifice was considered the most awesome of a people’s gods, because this is to many the Ultimate Sacrifice.  Although there is little evidence that this practice existed in Egypt, that does not prove that it didn’t.  It isn’t a stretch to think that the Pharaoh, who was held as the chiefest of the gods, required human sacrifice.  Just because some contemporary Egyptologists want to whitewash Ancient Egypt’s practices, doesn’t mean that we should eagerly embrace this whitewashing.
          The god requiring the sacrifice of the firstborn was considered the most awesome, most powerful of the gods.  And we understand that Pharaoh – and his people – were not going to budge on the issue of freedom for the Israelites until they could see their G-d, Hashem, as being the most awesome and powerful G-d:  more than any of the gods of Egypt, Pharaoh included.  Given all this, it is easier to understand why there was no serious movement to free the Israelites until after the Slaying of the Egyptian Firstborn – which spared the Israelite Firstborn.  It is self-evident in the narrative that this final act was not Hashem’s preference.  The plagues began with acts that could have been passed off as magicians’ tricks or natural acts, and escalated to the point where Hashem had no other choice but to smite the Egyptian firstborn.  This ultimate plague must be seen as being the consequence for the Pharaoh’s obstinance and his people’s complicity.  And not because Hashem, the G-d of the Israelites, desired it should happen.

          So we remember the Ten Plagues.  And we understand that they are an essential element of the story of our freedom.  We don’t celebrate that it was necessary, for our ancient forebears to fulfil their destiny.  But we do celebrate that the G-d we serve, was so steadfast in His determination to overcome evil, that He reluctantly made it happen.  Shabbat shalom. 

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