The war we have been waging to defend our people and our land has made the words of the Bible come alive. Hashem granted this land to His people, intending it to be a stage for moral greatness, a place where a life of commandment and covenant would illuminate the world. Yet, He also warned us that settling this land would be fraught with struggle and would not go unchallenged.
As we continue to build a society rooted in these sacred foundations, we find ourselves vilified by a world unwilling to accept a sovereign Jewish nation. The prophecies of the Bible have rarely felt this vivid in our lifetime.
There is one specific Biblical word that feels more relevant now than it has in past generations: Amalek. We are commanded to wage an eternal battle against Amalek, the nation that first assaulted us in the desert when we left Egypt.
Though we can no longer identify their genealogical descendants and the formal mitzvah of eradicating them has receded, we are still bound to remember their assault and eradicate the remnants of Amalek in our days.
Evidently, Amalek is more than just a vanished nation; it is a concept, an enduring force that outlives its original incarnation. But what is this concept? And why does remembering what Amalek did lie at the heart of Jewish historical consciousness and survival?
The Amalek war is starkly binary. We had just emerged from 210 years of crushing slavery, barely beginning to recover from our nightmare of subjugation. We posed no threat to anyone as we struggled through the desert toward our ancient homeland.
Yet Amalek, a nomadic, war-hardened people, attacked us without provocation. As the Torah describes: “They happened upon you on the journey.” The Midrash adds a chilling detail: Not only did they attack; they also mutilated the bodies of the fallen. This was pure, unrelenting evil.
At that moment in history, the world was on the brink of mass divine revelation. The word of Hashem was about to be heard, and divine miracles had already illuminated His presence. Yet, Amalek’s assault served as a brutal reminder that evil will always exist. Hashem can summon plagues, turn rivers to blood, rain down fire and hail, and darken an empire. He can split the sea and deliver bread from heaven. But He does not deprive humanity of free will.
Some human beings will always use that freedom for nefarious ends. No miracle, no revelation, not even the most undeniable display of divine power, will erase evil from this world. It remains our mission to fight it, both for our own survival and for the moral future of humanity.
For the modern mind, this notion is difficult to accept. We deeply want to believe that humanity has advanced beyond the savagery and hatred that plagued ancient societies. We tell ourselves that with enough education, dialogue, and democracy, evil in its purest form can be eradicated.
Humanists place their faith in the boundless potential of human beings; their capacity to reshape the world, to engineer societies free of persecution, and to construct cultures that reject cruelty. Just as technology has alleviated physical suffering and inconvenience, so too, they believe, can the right ideas and institutions rid the world of evil itself.
But sometimes optimism and faith in humanity can spiral into runaway idealism and unchecked utopianism. Those blinded by utopian dreams cannot accept that the Amalek monster resurfaces in every generation. It shatters their boundless faith in humanity’s ability to perfect itself.
Unable to confront evil head-on, they search for culprits, convinced that every horror must have been provoked by some worse crime. Blinded by their unwavering humanism and refusal to acknowledge pure evil, they distort reality as they search for villains to justify the atrocities committed by contemporary Amaleks.
Despite our own optimism in humanity and our embrace of modernity and progress, we still remember Amalek and avoid falling into the trap of naïveté by assuming that evil can be fully eradicated by human institutions.
With each passing week, as we receive horrifying details about the brutal treatment the hostages received from Hamas, we are once again reminded of the savage, inhuman brutality of October 7. Pure evil still exists. Bloodthirsty murderers will always find ideologies to justify their hatred, dehumanize their victims, and unleash unspeakable horrors. Yet, the world still crowns Hamas as a righteous cause while casting us as the villains. Intoxicated by their progressive faith in humanity’s ability to eradicate hatred and evil, they frantically search for villains: and we become easy targets.
History has shown that when we take a stand against Amalek, humanity eventually awakens to the righteousness of our cause. When we confront evil, the world slowly recognizes our role in defending what is just and moral. Immediately after the war with Amalek, Yitro, Moshe’s father-in-law, journeyed to the desert to join the Jewish people. The Midrash teaches that Yitro, upon hearing of our battle against Amalek’s pure evil, wanted to align himself with the people who waged this noble fight.
Hundreds of years later, we faced a different Amalek, not in the dunes of Sinai, but in the palaces of Persia. Once again, our triumph over Haman, a descendant of Amalek, stirred the hearts of many within the mighty Persian Empire. Megillat Esther recounts that “many among the nations aligned themselves with the Jews.” They did not convert, but recognized the justice of our cause and stood in solidarity with our fight against evil.
What happened before will happen again. We already enjoy strong support in our righteous war. Many nations stand firmly by our side in this struggle against pure evil. Even in countries where vocal opposition exists, governments remain strong in their support of Israel. Rabid protesters seize loud megaphones, creating the illusion that the entire world has turned against us.
History, and the Biblical template, tell us that eventually reason will triumph over hatred, and clarity will pierce through the fog of confusion. Eventually, the sheer brutality of evil will be so undeniable that even the most stubborn utopians will be forced to recognize Amalek for what it is, and they will thank us for standing on the front lines against it.
The Torah concludes its account of the war by reminding us that our struggle against Amalek spans generations, m’dor l’dor. Jewish history unfolds over millennia, not mere decades. To live with Jewish historical consciousness is to possess the imaginative stamina to envision the long arc of history.
Many people today are searching for a decisive, immediate victory in our war against Hamas and other enemies. But The Torah teaches that such a conclusive triumph against Amalek is elusive. It is unlikely we will witness a final resolution to our struggles against our numerous enemies in our lifetime. We are part of a larger arc, one that stretches far beyond our own days.
The Midrash describes Jacob planting acacia trees when he descended to Egypt, knowing that one day his descendants would be redeemed and would need those very trees to build the tabernacle. For over two centuries, through darkness and suffering, the trees stood, waiting for their purpose to be fulfilled. Jacob planted them with full awareness that he would never live to see the redemption, let alone the construction of the sanctuary they would compose. We plant, we build, we defend, not just for ourselves, but for the eternal story of our people. The war against Amalek is far from over.
Rabbi Michael Taragin is a rabbi at the hesder pre-military Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, with YU ordination and a master’s in English literature from CUNY. His most recent book, Reclaiming Redemption: Deciphering the Maze of Jewish History (Mosaica Press), is available in bookstores or at www.reclaimingredemption.com.
