“Remember what Amalek did to you on the way, when you were leaving Egypt, how he happened upon you on the way and cut off all the stragglers at your rear, when you were faint and weary, and he did not fear God” Deuteronomy 25:17-18
The Amalekites attacked our ancient ancestors shortly after they left Egypt, for no apparent reason.
In response, the Torah commands us to “wipe out the memory of Amalek,” but the rabbis decided
that this no longer applied to one particular people, since we can no longer be sure of who is
ethnically Amalekite.
Having been disconnected from a specific group, the idea of Amalek becomes a codeword
throughout our tradition for wanton, violent antisemitism.
During periods of our history when Jews felt relatively safe, this idea might have felt redundant, and
perhaps even embarrassing. But when, as now, many Jews are keenly aware of our vulnerability to
irrational and potentially lethal hatred, it unfortunately recovers its relevance.
The verses above are recited communally on the Shabbat before Purim, known as Shabbat Zachor
(“zachor” means “remember”) because Haman, the villain of the Purim story, was an Amalekite.
Haman sought to annihilate every Jewish man, woman and child and those who share his desire are
often seen as spiritual allies or even heirs to the Amalekite legacy. This is not true for common or
garden antisemites; only those with a thirst for fully fledged genocide need apply.
Our sages and mystics tell us many things about Amalek which resonate with our experience of
those antisemites who proudly proclaim their genocidal intentions today, which we may find
helpful.
We are told that Amalek is cruel, cynical, dishonest, devoid of hope or faith or love for life, and that his heirs utilise rape as a weapon of war. Furthermore, they are identified with meticulously planning their murderous schemes, and finally with conceit or arrogance.
So how might we overcome such a foe?
Our spiritual teachers suggest a few key remedies: to work on our own unhealthy pride or conceit; to give generously to those in need; to share the joy of Purim – and life – through the giving of mishloach manot (gift portions); and to invest in the depth of our relationship with Infinite Source. Prayer, which so many of us struggle to enter or to find meaningful, is perhaps our greatest weapon against despair, dishonesty, hopelessness and cynicism, and the most powerful means we have of awakening ourselves to contribute our utmost to the world around us.
Rabbi Silverstein runs the website Applied Jewish Spirituality