Don’t Sell Our Birthright

There are times in public life when an offer seems too good to refuse. Promises are made, kind words are spoken, and the chance to achieve an urgent goal can lead even experienced leaders to lose sight of the bigger picture. These are the precise moments when true leadership is tested.

In Parashat Toldot, we read how Esau returned from the field exhausted and hungry. Seeing Jacob preparing lentil stew, he demanded a portion. Jacob agreed, but asked for the birthright in return. Esau replied:

“Behold, I am going to die; what use is the birthright to me?” (Bereshis 25:32)

Esau was ready to give up something of lasting, spiritual value for immediate physical relief. He failed to appreciate what he possessed. The Torah records this story as a warning: we must never allow short-term pressure or immediate gains to obscure what truly matters.

This lesson is deeply relevant to the political challenges facing the Torah community today.

The uncertainty and distress surrounding yeshiva students and their families cannot continue indefinitely. Responsible leaders have a duty to secure a practical solution that respects the central role of Torah study and the convictions of those who dedicate their lives to it. Nobody should make light of the hardship faced by these students and their families.

To tolerate the intolerable is a vice, not a virtue.

However, the urgency of a crisis does not mean every proposed solution is acceptable, nor does it justify repeating strategies that have consistently failed. We must be honest about past efforts: they have not resolved the core issue, and in some cases, they have made matters worse. Admitting this should not lead to despair, but to clear thinking and a better strategy.

As King Solomon writes in Mishlei:

“For with wise counsel you shall wage war.” (Mishlei 24:6)

A complex struggle requires careful thought, sound advice, patience, and the courage to change course. We need leadership that can admit when an approach has failed and chart a better path forward. We do not merely need more political bargaining. We need principled leadership.

Leadership requires knowing what must never be traded away.

Political negotiations themselves are entirely legitimate. Representatives of the Torah community have every right—and indeed a duty—to work towards practical solutions regarding military service, financial support for religious institutions, Shabbat observance, and kashrut standards.

The real question is: what price are we prepared to pay?

If the political support required to form a government relies on parties whose published positions call for major changes to Jewish life—affecting Shabbat, kashrut, marriage, conversion, and the institutions responsible for religious affairs—we cannot simply ignore those positions. We must take publicly stated agendas seriously.

It is dangerous to assume that political figures have changed their core beliefs simply because the political situation has shifted. Until recently, certain figures publicly blamed yeshiva students for the deaths of soldiers, using these accusations as a central part of their political campaigns. These were severe charges directed against an entire tzibbur of Torah students and their families.

If their language suddenly becomes friendlier when our support is needed, should we assume that their basic views have changed? Should we forget what they said yesterday simply because they speak more pleasantly today?

There are only two possibilities:

They genuinely believed what they said. If so, we have no reason to assume that their core views have changed.
They did not believe it, but used the issue as a political tool. If so, using the deaths of soldiers and the pain of grieving families for political gain represents a serious abuse of public trust.

In either case, we cannot base our decisions on a sudden change in tone. Political convenience does not prove that a person’s views have changed, and a promise made when our votes are needed may not be kept once those votes have been given.

Jeremiah the Prophet warned against such wishful thinking:

“Can a Cushite change his skin, or a leopard its spots?” (Jeremiah 13:23)

We must judge political entities by what they have said and done, by their public positions, and by the concrete steps they are prepared to take.

Once a government has been formed and the necessary 61 votes have been secured, the political situation changes. Those who gave their support during negotiations may find that they have lost much of the influence they had.

What happens if the draft law is not passed after all? What happens if the very law for which political support was given never becomes reality, while other laws affecting Shabbat, kashrut, marriage, conversion, and Jewish religious life are brought forward and passed?

We could find ourselves having helped form a government, having given up our political strength, having failed to receive what we were promised, and yet having helped pass laws that weaken the very religious principles we were supposed to protect.

Before giving political support, responsible leaders must evaluate not only what promises are being made, but whether those making them are actually able to keep them. A minister or political leader cannot promise every result. Laws must pass through the proper parliamentary process, coalition partners have their own views, and legal advisers and courts play their roles.

We must understand the difference between a promise and a guarantee, and between a guarantee and the actual ability to deliver. It is not enough to be told that everything will be arranged. We must know who has the authority to arrange it, what happens if the promise cannot be fulfilled, and what real protection remains for our core interests.

There is also a danger within our own ranks. Political power is tempting. Once people enter government, the wish to keep their positions, hold on to influence, and remain in power can affect their judgment. What seemed clear from outside government may look very different once one is inside it.

We must not think that we are immune to these pressures. What began as an effort to protect Torah can slowly become a struggle to protect our own political position. Leaders may find themselves agreeing to compromises they would never have accepted before entering government.

The Torah community must understand the difference between cooperation and surrender. We can negotiate respectfully with people who do not share our views, and we can reach practical agreements without giving up our principles. But there is a great difference between negotiating with political partners and giving them the power to promote an agenda that goes against the very principles we are supposed to protect.

Furthermore, the end does not justify the means. No political achievement, however important, can justify giving up basic Torah principles. We cannot protect one part of our religious inheritance by giving away another. The future of yeshiva students is enormously important, but so are Shabbat, kashrut, Jewish marriage, conversion, and the continued strength of our institutions.

These are not bargaining chips.

The Gemara in Avodah Zarah (25a) calls Sefer Bereishit Sefer HaYashar (the Book of the Upright) because it tells the stories of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who were known for their upright conduct. As the Netziv (Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin) explains in his introduction to Ha’amek Davar, yosher—honesty and uprightness—is a foundational quality of our forefathers. Commitment to Torah must always go together with honesty, fairness, and integrity.

Our responsibility is to protect the whole inheritance that has been entrusted to us.

The birthright is not a temporary political advantage. It is the Torah, the mitzvot, and the Jewish way of life that have been passed down from generation to generation. Those who represent the Torah community are responsible for guarding this inheritance. They may negotiate practical arrangements, but they must never treat the inheritance itself as something that can be traded away.

Jacob understood the value of the birthright. Esau did not. The lesson of Parashat Toldot is that we must never allow immediate pressure or the attraction of an easy offer to make us forget what really matters.

The test of leadership is not simply what one succeeds in obtaining. It is also what one refuses to give up.

Don’t sell our birthright.