The ‘Wrongest Day’

Launching an attack on Iran on the same Shabbat that we observed Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat of “Remember Amalek,” raises a somewhat unsettling question: Did Israel propose launching the attack on that particular Shabbat — and, if so, did it do so in order to send a dangerous albeit subliminal message to the Palestinians on the West Bank and Gaza: “Either find yourselves new homes elsewhere or risk the total annihilation the Torah this Shabbat commands us to carry out against you Amalekites”?

That Israel made that decision seems likely, following remarks made by Secretary of State Marco Rubio on Monday at a meeting with several members of Congress. Israel, Rubio told the group, posed an “imminent threat” to U.S. facilities and personnel in the region when it decided to attack Iran. The U.S. reluctantly joined Israel in the attack because “we knew,” he said, that Iran “would immediately come after us.” The U.S. involvement was not meant to be offensive, he added. “We went proactively in a defensive way to prevent them [the Iranians] from inflicting higher damage.”

If that is true — the president said that it is not — then based on what Rubio said, it follows that the U.S. did not have any information suggesting that an Iranian attack or strike of some kind was imminent. In that case, the U.S. would have led the charge, not followed sheepishly behind. The timing, then, must have been Israel’s choice, making the “why that Shabbat” question quite relevant.

That “subliminal message” was “in the air” well before any U.S. and Israeli warplanes took to the skies. If not for that, and if not for the symbolism embedded in the attack — whether the symbolism was intentional or coincidental — this question would never have occurred to me otherwise because, frankly, it seems so absurd.

There is a reason why Deuteronomy 25:17-19 and 1 Samuel 15 were chosen to be read annually on the Shabbat before Purim. The Deuteronomy verses are commandment regarding how we must deal with “Amalek.” The prophetic reading from 1 Samuel reports on King Saul’s war against Amalek and how he spared its king, Agag by name. In Megillat Esther, Haman, the Purim story’s arch-villain, is referred to as “the Agagite,” suggesting that he was an Amalekite descendant of King Agag.

That connects the readings on Shabbat Zachor to Purim. Bombing Iran on any day sends a powerful overt message to Iran. To use the bombing to send a subliminal message to any “Amalekites” living today requires doing so on one day only — on the “Shabbat to Remember Amalek.” That is because the Purim story is set in ancient Persia, and Iran is modern Persia, and the Purim story ends with the Jews defending themselves by killing more than 75,000 Persians who dared attack them on the day that became Purim.

To find the “subtle message” in the bombing, if indeed there was one, requires a closer look at Deuteronomy 25:17-19 and how it has been distorted:

“Remember what Amalek did to you on the way, after you left Egypt… how he attacked your stragglers in the rear, when you were faint and weary, and he did not fear God…; you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under the heavens. Do not forget.”

Biblical scholars and many Christian preachers contend that this is a commandment to commit genocide that was issued by the vengeful and cruel “Old Testament God” of the Jews.

Sadly, there are those on the Jewish far right who also see “genocide” in Deuteronomy 25:17-19. To them, anyone who is a to-the-death enemy of the Jews is a descendant of Amalek, and thus he, his family, his neighbors, and his whole community all are subject to annihilation.

Mainstream Judaism, from the Talmud on, has always rejected any such interpretation. The Torah, after all, is not a book of death and destruction. The Torah is about respecting life — even the life of an Egyptian who enslaved us. (See Deuteronomy 23:8.) If the story of our brutal enslavement does not qualify for a call for genocide, how could the Torah issue such a commandment against Amalek? It defies logic.

Throughout our history, from Haman to Hitler, there have always been “Amaleks” who rose up against us with genocidal intent. Even if we accepted that the Torah commands genocide against Amalek, however, we had neither the power nor the wherewithal to act on it.

We have both now, however, and there are people in Israel’s government today who wield that power and who are just itching to use it against the Palestinians living in Gaza and the West Bank, Amaleks all, in their view. In anyone’s view, Hamas is an “Amalek” by definition. On October 7th, Hamas gave them the excuse they needed, and they make no secret of their intentions.

It took Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu just 21 days after October 7th to start that Amalek ball rolling when he publicly referred to Hamas that way. “You must remember what Amalek has done to you,” Bibi said. He was forced to assure the world that his remark was not meant as a call for genocide. True or not, however, others in his government are unapologetic about what they want to do.

In May 2024, for example, Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich quoted Deuteronomy 25:19 verbatim in a speech to the Knesset. “You shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under the heavens,” he said.

Throughout 2025, Smotrich advocated “opening the gates of hell” in Gaza. A few months ago, he said, “we must open these gates as quickly and lethally as possible against the cruel enemy,” meaning all Gazans, not just Hamas.

National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, for his part, left no doubt of his real intent when he repeatedly objected to providing humanitarian aid to Gaza last year. He said at one point that “not an ounce of humanitarian aid” should enter Gaza. “The only thing that needs to enter Gaza are hundreds of tons of explosives from the Air Force,” he said. In other words, he was saying that anyone Israel doesn’t kill by its bombs should be forced to starve to death.

Another time, he insisted that Israel had to “suffocate Hamas” by bombing all the existing aid depots in Gaza and by totally cutting off Gaza’s electricity and water supplies. In his way of thinking, if ordinary Gazans die while Hamas is being “suffocated,” that’s acceptable collateral damage.

It was in the code words that Smotrich, Ben-Gvir, and even Netanyahu have used and continue to use that the “subtle message” to the Palestinians first took to the air. Hamas is both Palestinian and Amalek, so it is reasonable to assume that all Palestinians are Amalek. The Torah God gave us tells us how to deal with Amalek. By launching airstrikes over modern Persia on the eve of celebrating a victory over Amaleks in ancient Persia and doing so on a day we invoke the Amalek commandment, Israel delivers that message in dramatic fashion.

Let us be clear about the Amalek commandment. It does not mandate genocide and never has mandated it. It was deliberately written in a way that makes it impossible to carry out in a literal sense. How can we simultaneously erase a memory and preserve it? The imperatives to “remember” and to “not forget” cannot coexist with “blot out the memory.” It is an unresolvable paradox.

The Torah itself makes it impossible to ever blot out the memory of Amalek because that memory is preserved twice in the Torah — in Deuteronomy 25 and in Exodus 17 — and it is publicly read three times each year: In the late fall-early winter, in midsummer, and on Shabbat Zachor.

Clearly, there must be more at work here than meets the eye. We may not fully understand something the Torah says, but we do not have to contend with any kind of sacred schizophrenia.

And yet the commandment was not given frivolously and must be taken seriously. Somehow, we must fulfill it. That means we first have to understand it, which requires digging beneath its words and also by examining context.

The Torah describes all people by race or ethnicity — all people, except Amalek. It defines Amalek by behavior. Amalek “attacked your stragglers,” struck from behind,” “did not fear God.”

From the Torah’s perspective, therefore, and as seconded by our Sages of Blessed Memory, DNA has nothing to do with this “Amalek.” He or she is someone who personifies a concept we could call moral nihilism. To a nihilist, there’s no such thing as right or wrong. Morality has no objective foundation whatever.

It is that “Amalek” the Torah commands us to remember. It wants us to be able to identify this evil as soon as it begins to rise so that we can quickly put it down before it does much damage. (As history shows, and perhaps because this commandment has been so misunderstood, we humans have not been very successful in that regard.)

The “concept” theory would resolve all the problems created by the wording, but it hangs by a thin thread of subjective evidence that could be easily challenged — how the Torah describes Amalek.

Something objective was needed, and our Sages provided it by declaring that a biological people known as Amalek no longer existed in their day. This could only mean that they never equated the “Amalek” in the mitzvah with the biological Amalek because that would require permanently deactivating a Torah commandment, which they would not do. That declaration, therefore, neutralizes any possible challenge on the part of people like Smotrich and Ben-Gvir, for whom the word of the Sages is “Torah Mi-Sinai,” an Oral Law from God passed on by Moses when he delivered the Written Law.

The concept theory resolves the paradox problem by removing the paradox. Consider — we can’t blot out a remembrance, and yet still remember it — if it’s a person. But we can if it’s a concept, because we’re remembering a recurring pattern in history while blotting out its current embodiment.

We preserve moral memory by eradicating immoral cruelty.

We defend the Torah and the God who gave it because God and the Torah prohibit genocide, not promote it.

Was there a subtle message meant by launching the bombing of Iran on Shabbat Zachor? As absurd as that sounds, it is a possibility we dare not casually dismiss.

Shammai Engelmayer is a rabbi-emeritus of Congregation Beth Israel of the Palisades and an adult education teacher in Bergen County. He is the author of eight books and the winner of 10 awards for his commentaries. His website is www.shammai.org.