Summarized by Yaakov Aduram. Translated by David Strauss
At the beginning of the parasha, we find an unusual story whose place in the parasha seems puzzling at first glance. But if we analyze it in depth, we can understand its place in the parasha, its influence on the birth of the redeemer of Israel, and on the continuation of the entire story:
And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took as a wife a daughter of Levi. And the woman conceived, and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a goodly child, she hid him three months. And when she could no longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch; and she put the child therein, and laid it in the reeds by the river's brink. And his sister stood far off, to know what would be done to him. And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe in the river; and her maidens walked along by the river-side; and she saw the ark among the reeds, and sent her handmaid to fetch it. And she opened it, and saw the child; and behold, a boy that wept. And she had compassion on him, and said: This is one of the Hebrews' children. Then his sister said to Pharaoh's daughter: Shall I go and call you a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for you? And Pharaoh's daughter said to her: Go. And the maiden went and called the child's mother. And Pharaoh's daughter said to her: Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will give you your wages. And the woman took the child, and nursed it. And the child grew, and she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son. And she called his name Moshe, and said: Because I drew him out of the water. (Shemot 2:1-10)
The beginning of the story is puzzling. In the next parasha, the Torah will tell us the history of Aharon and Moshe, and will explicitly mention the marriage of Amram and Yocheved. Why does the Torah bring the same story here, but without any names?
Every Person Has a Name
It seems that anonymity is the key here – the story is not about Amram and Yocheved, but about a man and a daughter of Levi. Likewise, in the continuation of the story, all of the characters have no names at all, although later they will be revealed with their full names. Mentioned are "a man of the house of Levi, "a daughter of Levi," "his sister," "the woman," and even "the daughter of Pharaoh." All of them lack identity and name. Why?
These matters are closely related to the opening of the parasha:
And he said to his people: Behold, the people of the children of Israel are too many and too mighty for us; come, let us deal wisely with them, lest they multiply, and it come to pass, that, when there befalls us any war, they also join themselves to our enemies, and fight against us, and rise up out of the land. Therefore they did set over them taskmasters to afflict them with their burdens. And they built for Pharaoh store-cities, Pitom and Ra'amses. But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and the more they spread abroad. And the Egyptians came to dread the children of Israel. And the Egyptians made the children of Israel to serve with rigor. And they made their lives bitter with hard service, in mortar and in brick, and in all manner of service in the field; in all their service, wherein they made them serve with rigor. (Shemot 1:9-14)
For various reasons, whether military, political, or religious, Pharaoh, king of Egypt, decides that the Israelites living in Egypt must be enslaved and tormented. The oppression intensifies when, in the second stage, Pharaoh decides to move on to a well-organized and institutionalized genocide:
And the king of Egypt spoke to the Hebrew midwives, of whom the name of the one was Shifra, and the name of the other Pu'a; and he said: When you serve as a midwife to the Hebrew women, you shall look upon the birthstool: if it be a son, then you shall kill him; but if it be a daughter, then she shall live. (Shemot 1:15-16)
And when the midwives fail him:
And Pharaoh charged all his people, saying: Every son that is born you shall cast into the river, and every daughter you shall keep alive. (Shemot 1:22)
Such a process of total genocide is only possible through the demonization of the other – turning the other into a terrible monster, a subhuman, a creature devoid of uniqueness and meaning. When the other's life becomes meaningless, it is much easier to kill him. The Nazis also acted in this way during the Holocaust – the tattooing of numbers on the flesh of the prisoners was not without thought, but was with diabolical intent. When a person becomes a number, he is without identity, without a life story, without personality, and easy to kill. The herding of millions of people into cattle cars was part of a broad process of expropriating their humanity and turning them into animals and subhumans, a status that justifies the terrible treatment they receive.
Pharaoh's genocide is made possible by a similar process. Enslavement and hard labor turn the Israelites into a people without identity and without a name: "man of the house of Levi" and "daughter of Levi." The process of demonization that was carried out against the Israelites – "when there befalls us any war, they also join themselves to our enemies, and fight against us, and rise up out of the land" (v. 10) – succeeded. They are no longer human beings, but objects.
Pharaoh himself acts in a similar manner in his instruction to the midwives:
And the king of Egypt spoke to the Hebrew midwives, of whom the name of the one was Shifra, and the name of the other Pu'a; and he said: When you serve as a midwife to the Hebrew women, you shall look upon the birthstool: if it be a son, then you shall kill him; but if it be a daughter, then she shall live. But the midwives feared God, and did not as the king of Egypt commanded them, but kept the male children alive… And the king of Egypt called for the midwives, and said to them: Why have you done this thing, and have kept the male children alive?… And Pharaoh charged all his people, saying: Every son that is born you shall cast into the river, and every daughter you shall save alive. (Shemot 1:15-18, 22)
When Pharaoh orders the midwives to carry out the genocide, he does so out of detachment, based solely on his position: "king of Egypt." He abolishes his own personality and identity in order to be able to carry out the act. He reverts to his own name – Pharaoh – only when he addresses his own people.
And She Saw It, the Child
Against this impenetrable wall of demonization, hatred of the other, and emotional callousness stands one significant figure, who manages to make a crack in the wall.
And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe in the river; and her maidens walked along by the river-side; and she saw the ark among the flags, and sent her handmaid to fetch it. And she opened it, and saw the child; and behold, a boy that wept. And she had compassion on him, and said: This is one of the Hebrews' children. (Shemot 2:5-6)
Pharaoh's daughter sees a child crying, and her natural reaction is empathy and compassion – "and she had compassion on him." Pharaoh's daughter had grown up in her father's palace, and yet she did not succumb to the campaign of incitement and demonization that her father led. She is able to see the baby in front of her as an individual with a personal story and an independent identity, and not as part of a generality that is depicted in a crude and satanic manner. In the moment of truth, when she comes to deal with the "Hebrews' children", she is able to see the individual child in front of her and express compassion towards him.
When she approaches the child, Pharaoh's daughter realizes that something is wrong. A crying baby is normal, since he cannot speak and this is his way of communicating. But Pharaoh's daughter perceives that there is more to it than that – "and behold, a boy that wept." This is a boy who is supposed to communicate with words; his crying is not just a way of making a sound, but has a meaning and a message of distress. The daughter of Pharaoh picks up on this message, and has pity. She succeeds in making a crack in the wall of demonization and hatred that has been built up against the Jewish people, and in feeling compassion and empathy.
With this in mind, we can understand the continuation of the story:
And the child grew, and she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son. And she called his name Moshe, and said: Because I drew him out [meshitihu] of the water. (Shemot 2:10)
The name Moshe is not just an Egyptian name that was given to him. The name carries with it tremendous meaning. It is a name given as a result of an act of compassion, because Pharaoh's daughter took him in and adopted him. It is necessary that the redeemer of Israel bear a name that was created out of compassion. Thus we understand that the name Moshe does not come only to commemorate the past, but also indicates the direction of his action in the future, the salvation of Israel and compassion for them. As the Midrash states:
"And she called his name Moshe [= drawer]." It would have been appropriate for him to be called Mashui [= drawn], for Moshe was drawn out of the water. Rather, he was called Moshe because of Israel, whom he drew and brought out of Egypt, as it is stated: "That you may bring forth My people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt" (Shemot 3:10). (Pesikta Zutrata, Shemot 2:10)
The Midrash further characterizes the daughter of Pharaoh and Moshe as one of the cases in which one can see that one who raises another person's child is regarded as if he had begotten him:
"And the child grew, and she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son." This teaches you that anyone who raises another person's child is regarded as if he had begotten him. "Ha-Yehudiya" (I Divrei Ha-Yamim 4:18) – this is Batya, the daughter of Pharaoh, who became a Jewess. (Pesika Zutrata, ibid.)
It is only natural that Moshe, who was raised by Pharaoh's daughter, who epitomizes compassion and humanity, absorbed her values and internalized them as if he were her own son.
The expression of these values is explicitly found in the continuation of the story:
And it came to pass in those days, when Moshe was grown up, that he went out to his brothers, and looked on their burdens; and he saw an Egyptian smiting a Hebrew, one of his brothers. And he looked this way and that way, and when he saw that there was no man, he smote the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand. And he went out the second day, and, behold, two men of the Hebrews were striving together; and he said to him that did the wrong: Why do you smite your fellow? (Shemot 2:11-13)
Moshe Rabbeinu is unable to stand idly by when he sees his brothers suffering. Compassion and humanity stir him; he does not harden his heart, but rather he acts to save his brothers.
The Midrash teaches that it was due to the righteous women that the people of Israel were redeemed from Egypt:
"Under the apple tree I awakened you" (Shir ha-Shirim 8:5) – Rava expounded: It was by the merit of the righteous women of that generation that they were redeemed from Egypt. (Yalkut Shimoni 933)
It would seem that we can add the daughter of Pharaoh to the list of righteous women by virtue of whom we were redeemed, who taught us what compassion and humanity are. Thanks to her actions, Israel merited Moshe, their redeemer.
[This sicha was delivered by Harav Mosheh Lichtenstein on Shabbat Parashat Shemot 5784.]
Edited by Yair Lichtman
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