Blind Love - זכור

Like most Israelis, for the last couple weeks, my family and I have been having to stay close to our bomb shelter; this began with the start of the current campaign against Iran on the Shabbat that precedes Purim. At the time the war started, in synagogue we have the tradition to read about the destruction of Amalek: זָכ֕וֹר אֵ֛ת אֲשֶׁר־עָשָׂ֥ה לְךָ֖ עֲמָלֵ֑ק בַּדֶּ֖רֶךְ בְּצֵאתְכֶ֥ם מִמִּצְרָֽיִם, “Remember what Amalek did to you when you left Egypt” (Deuteronomy 25:17), followed by the slightly contradictory statement תִּמְחֶה֙ אֶת־זֵ֣כֶר עֲמָלֵ֔ק מִתַּ֖חַת הַשָּׁמָ֑יִם לֹ֖א תִּשְׁכָּֽח׃, “Erase the memory of Amalek from under the Heavens, do not forget.” (Deuteronomy 25:19b). It is not hard to connect this statement with the timing of the strike on Iran, whose leadership for more than three decades has called for the destruction of the Jewish people, beyond just the modern political State of Israel. In many ways, the leadership in Iran represents a modern Amalek.

History has taught us that when someone says that they’re going to kill you and your family, especially as Jews, we have to take them seriously. We have a moral imperative to defend ourselves, even proactively. Going back to the story of Amalek, where this current war started, we should recognize the moral complexity in moments like this and that there is no one clear answer. But, just like Pharaoh was blinded by his hate, it is possible for us to be blinded by love and compassion, where showing mercy ultimately puts one at mortal risk. As the Rebbe writes in לקוטי שיחות פ׳ זכור, we learn from חז״ל that only because Saul showed mercy to אגג did we later get המן, descendants of Amalek who strove to kill all the Jews.