Amalek and Egypt: A Tale of Two Hates
In Parshat Ki Teitzei, we encounter an overwhelming number of mitzvot — 74 to be exact — that provide guidance for living in community and navigating the moral complexities of life. Yet, among these detailed laws, there’s a deeper conversation that emerges about hate — how it can fester, how it can be recognized, and how it might be confronted.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory, in his teaching on “Two Types of Hate,” reflects on the complexity of love and hate, offering us a lens to understand that not all hatreds are the same. In the same way that some loves are conditional and others are unconditional (see Pirkei Avot 5:16), some forms of hate are rooted in irrational fear and others in perceived justifications, even if they are unjustifiable.
In this week’s Torah portion, we are commanded not to hold eternal hatred for Egypt (Deut. 23:8), despite their enslavement of our people, but we are told to never forget or forgive the nation of Amalek for their attack on the Israelites (Deut. 25:19). Egypt’s oppression, while evil, was based on a rationale — a fear of the growing power of the Israelites. Once that fear was addressed, the hatred was no longer necessary. It had always been wrong, and acknowledging a rationale should not be misunderstood as validation of the hate. But the contrast between Epyt and Amalek should be instructive, however thorny it may be. Amalek’s hatred was baseless, an assault for the sake of destruction. Amalek hated simply because we existed. This is the kind of hate that cannot be reasoned with, the kind of hate that endures.
We can apply this teaching to our current moment, especially in light of recent events in the 342 days since October 7. The hatred — antisemitism and other — we witness in the world today is not monolithic. Some hate is based on the fear of the other, on misunderstandings or misrepresentations that can, in theory, be corrected. Again, this is not validation but a diagnosis of a disease. However, there are hatreds that go deeper, rooted in the very existence of the other. This is the hate of Amalek — irrational, unyielding, and destructive.
As we process the events of our time, especially after the horrors of October 7th, we must ask ourselves: How do we recognize the difference between these kinds of hate? And more importantly, how do we confront them? We grieve for the loss of innocent lives, and we acknowledge that while there are rational fears that fuel some conflicts, there are also irrational hatreds that seem impossible to address.
The Torah commands us to respond differently to these two kinds of hatred. With Egypt, there is room for reconciliation, for healing, for a future where the past no longer dictates our relationships. But with Amalek, there is no compromise. The irrational hatred that seeks to erase us cannot be reasoned with. It must be confronted and eradicated.
This wisdom from the Torah reminds us that in our world, we face both kinds of hate. There are those with whom peace may one day be possible, and there are those whose hatred will persist, unyielding. May we have the courage to discern between the two and the strength to act accordingly, always holding onto the hope that, one day, we will move beyond the shadows of hate into a future of peace. One day.