In shul yesterday, as we headed into the second half of Deuteronomy, we happened on some of those passages that contain one of the invocations of Amalek that Netanyahu made famous after October 7: “Remember what Amalek did to you.” “You shall blot out the memory of Amalek.” These and another passage were mentioned by Netanyahu and a great many other right-wing Zionists to justify and explain the slaughter of Palestinians that ensued in response to the attacks of October 7. But there are two fascinating wrinkles in the Parsha that complicate that simple story.

First, the injunction to destroy Amalek comes after a whole series of other injunctions that are designed to turn the Israelites into a civilized, moral people. We’ll come back in a second to the interesting question that raises about the relationship between civilization and genocide. But for now, let’s simply note that before the Israelites are supposed to avenge anything or blot out anyone, before they are supposed to launch any murderous strikes, they must learn to deal justly with each other and with the stranger in their land.

The Amalek injunction appears in Deuteronomy 25, but just prior to it, the Israelites are told that when they are reaping the harvest in their fields, if they should overlook some particular sheaves of grain, they should leave them in the field “for the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow.” Same goes for olives still on the trees in their groves.

The Israelites also are told, in no uncertain terms, that children shall not “be put to death for parents.” “Each shall be put to death only for their own crime.” Hmm. They are told: “You shall not subvert the rights of the stranger.” Over and over again.

There are many other rules that are included here, like making sure to cut off the hand of a woman who strikes the genitals of another man, that Netanyahu and a lot of people who rallied to his cry of Amalek don’t pay much attention to, but let’s set those rules aside.

The point is this: before you can even start thinking of dealing with Amalek, you have to get your own moral house in order, and that includes dealing justly with those who are not among your own people. Only that level of collective and public righteousness entitles you, as a people, to take revenge for the past sins that were committed against you.

So there’s a lot of moral pre-work, in other words, that must be done, before there’s any talk of revenge. Moral preparation, as it were.

And that raises some interesting and troubling questions, as I said, about the relationship between moral civilization and genocide in the Hebrew Bible. And here we come to the second twist in the Amalek passage in Deuteronomy 25. It says:

Therefore, when your God יהוה grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in the land that your God יהוה is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!

Notice that phrase: when your God grants you safety from all your enemies around you.

Since October 7, the Amalek invocation frequently has been paired with the claim that Jewish Israelis are under existential threat from Hamas. In fact, many of the very same people who deny that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza now claim that October 7 was a genocidal attack or a “genocide interrupted” by Hamas. So the reason to obliterate the Palestinians now, the argument goes, is not simply in memory of what Hamas did on October 7. It’s to stop any further genocide of Jewish Israelis. To make sure that the genocide interrupted stays interrupted.

Yet the Amalek passage not only doesn’t say that at all; it says just the opposite. It emphasizes: “when God grants you safety from all your enemies around you.” Then, and only then, when are you safe, are you to destroy Amalek.

This, I think, is what makes the Amalek passage so troubling and problematic for any one’s invocation. The text doesn’t pit genocide against civilization, as we do. It pairs it with civilization. Genocide is the obligation, the privilege, of civilization that has been achieved. It is something a country only gets to do when it, like Michael Corleone, has sufficient power to settle all family business. It’s a prerogative of immense security and safety, of immense power and potency, not of danger, insecurity, or powerlessness. Destroying Amalek is the summit of civilizational achievement.

When you think genocide outside the text, as a question of power politics, the Amalek passage makes sense. Despite genocide often being committed during wartime, genocidal states are usually extremely powerful states that do not have truly threatening enemies about to destroy them. It’s their power (the power of the states) and the powerlessness of their opponents that enable the genocidal states to commit genocide.

In a way, then, as soon as they invoked the Amalek passage, Netanyahu and all of Israel’s defenders during the Gaza War were telling on themselves: Not just by claiming the license to commit genocide, but in their advertisement of their massive power and ease and overwhelming security.

Shabbat shalom.

For a different reading of the Parsha, which focuses on those grains the farmer leaves behind and what they tell us about God and modern economics, check out this post by my daughter. And if you’re so inclined, feel free to follow her on Substack.