‘Fatal Fatalism’ Parashat Lech Lecha 5785

One year ago, on the Shabbat on which the Portion of Lech Lecha was read, R’ Shai, who was reading the Torah that week in Moreshet, was suffering from laryngitis. As the reading went on, his voice worsened until it became impossible to hear him. I have a certain amount of familiarity with Torah Reading and so R’ Shai asked me to step in and finish the reading for him. In the seventh aliya, after G-d informs Abraham that his wife, Sarah, will one day bear him a son, Isaac, Abraham asks G-d [Bereishit 17:18] “If only Ishmael will live before You!” Until that point, Ishmael, whom Abraham had fathered with his maidservant, Hagar, was destined to inherit him. When G-d informs Abraham that Sarah will bear him a successor, Abraham is concerned what this will mean for his beloved Ishmael. Hence, his request. Now, this Shabbat was only three weeks after the Massacre of October 7. We were still reeling. The number of dead was still climbing as charred human remains were being identified. I read Abraham’s request and I could not believe it. What was he thinking? Wasn’t he a prophet? Did he not know that Ishmael’s descendants would one day descend on the Gazan Envelope like wild animals, murdering, torturing, raping and kidnapping? I began to sob unconsolably. I could barely finish the Torah reading. What was he thinking? I cannot answer for Abraham but I can try to answer another question: The Torah is not a story book or a history book. The Torah teaches us what G-d expects of us; it teaches us how to become better people. What lesson can we learn from Abraham’s request of G-d to let Ishmael live?

The first step is to understand what Abraham was requesting. Rashi[1], noting that Abraham asks that Ishmael should live specifically “lefanecha” – “before You”, explains that Abraham wanted Ishmael to become a G-d-fearing person. Abraham saw signs that his son was heading “Off the Derech” and he asked G-d to please rein him in. The Ramban[2] takes great issue with Rashi’s explanation. How can a person ask G-d to make someone more religious? Doesn’t the Talmud in Tractate Berachot [33b] teach that “Everything is in the Hands of Heaven other than the Fear of Heaven”? It is a basic tenet of Judaism that man has freedom of choice. If he chooses wisely, then he will be rewarded. If he chooses poorly, then he will be punished. G-d will not choose for us and Abraham would never ask Him to do so. Further, G-d answers Abraham [Bereishit 17:20] “Regarding Ishmael, I have heard [your prayer]”, meaning that whatever Abraham had prayed for, he was going to get it. But as G-d would never have agreed to make Ishmael more devout, this must mean that Abraham was asking for something else. The Ramban prefers a more straightforward explanation, that Abraham simply wanted Ishmael to live alongside Isaac rather than to be replaced by him.

Let’s take a closer look at Rashi’s explanation. Rashi explicitly states that his explanation is based on a nearby verse, in which G-d tells Abraham [Bereishit 17:1] “Walk before me (Hit’halech lefanai)”. The translation of “walk before me” is admittedly poor. “Walk before me” would be a fitting translation of the simple “Halech lefanai”, not of the intensive-reflexive (hit’pael) “Hit’halech lefanai”. In the hit’pael verb form, an action is performed to one’s self[3]. If “halech” means “walk”, then “hit’halech” means “walk toward one’s self”. Noting that the act of prayer involves introspection – walking towards one’s self, as it were – Rashi, quoting from the Aramaic translation of Onkelos[4], translates “Hit’halech lefanai” as “Pray before Me”. Reflecting this understanding back onto Abraham’s request regarding Ishmael, it could be understood that Abraham wanted Ishmael to be a person who prayed to G-d.

But this just brings us back to Square One. The Ramban’s question still stands. How can Abraham ask G-d to take away Ishmael’s freedom of choice? The answer is that this is not what Abraham is asking for. The Rambam, writing in Hilchot Teshuva [9:1], notes that the blessings found in the Torah are all material – “You will win wars, your crops will grow, and your football team will win” – and not spiritual – “You will inherit the World to Come”. The Rambam asserts that “[G-d] will grant us all the good which will reinforce our performance of the Torah, such as plenty, peace, an abundance of silver and gold in order that we not be involved throughout all our days in matters required by the body, but rather, will sit unburdened and [thus, have the opportunity to] study wisdom and perform mitzvot in order that we will merit the life of the world to come.“ To use corporate-speak, the Torah promises a “win-win situation”. If we abide by G-d’s rules, we will inherit both this world and the next.

I suggest that this is what Abraham was asking G-d, to bless Ishmael with the optimal conditions for him to become a righteous person. Nevertheless, Ishmael’s choice to leverage these optimal conditions for his own spiritual benefit would be his and his alone. Here is where Ishmael and his descendants were just not up to the task. On September 11, 2015, during preparations for the Haj pilgrimage in Mecca, a crane collapsed killing 111 people and injuring 394 others. Grand Mufti Sheikh Abdul Aziz bin-Abdullah al-Sheikh told the Chairman of the Haj committee, “You are not responsible for what happened. As for the things that humans cannot control, you are not blamed for them. Fate and destiny are inevitable”. The Grand Mufti was mistaken. The structure of the crane did not adequately account for wind and a strong gust toppled it. Less than two weeks later, during the Haj pilgrimage, a crowd crush resulted in the asphyxiation of more than 2,000 people. One day later, the Grand Mufti exonerated Saudi authorities from responsibility for the disaster, characterizing the incident as “beyond human control”, “inevitable”, and attributable to “fate”. Here, too, he was mistaken. Authorities did not adequately account for crowd dynamics. The addition of one bridge would have alleviated the problem.

In an op-ed in the New York Times written after the crane fell but before the crush occurred, Mustafa Akyol, an influential Muslim writer and a self-professed “devout but liberal Muslim”, bemoans the fatalism espoused by the Grand Mufti, describing it as an unfortunate key tenet of Islam: “Today most Muslims live… within cultural codes largely defined by dogmatists. In these codes, human free will is easily sacrificed to fatalism, science and reason are trivialized, and philosophy is frowned upon. Consequently, ‘G-d’s will’ becomes an easy cover for intellectual laziness, lack of planning, and irresponsibility. Muslims in positions of power often refer to ‘fate’ to explain away their failures, while never hesitating to take pride in their successes.” Had the authorities taken responsibility and acted to mitigate risk by strengthening the base of the crane and by building that additional bridge, these disasters would never have occurred.

Islamic fatalism arrives on the scene together with Ishmael. This point is discussed at length by Manitou[5] in his analysis of Ishmael’s personality and self-identity, an analysis that draws heavily on the esoteric Torah. Manitou asserts that a Muslim who performs an action he knows is wrong accuses the devil. If he performs a good deed, he thanks the Creator and His angel, Gabriel. He refuses to attribute his actions to himself and so he feels no moral responsibility. The Muslim’s worldview is completely different from the Western worldview. He treats Western culture with contempt, because for him, the Westerner is an infidel who is unwilling to admit that everything is from the Creator. Manitou writes[6], “This position has many implications… Many times I hear politicians complaining that the Arabs do not honor their word. They go back on their word, so you cannot trust any agreement signed with them. What is revealed here is a complete misunderstanding of the Muslim mind, because in [the Muslim’s] view, he is not going back on his word. He simply does not know what the Creator will decide for him even a moment from now: whether to keep the agreement or not. The decision is independent of the person making it. The decision falls ‘in another world’, above. The human being is only a performer. This is why misunderstandings arise. The lesson is that you need to get to have a clear understanding of the other side’s way of thinking when you come to negotiate with them.” How could the Hamas terrorists who participated in the October 7 Massacre have performed such unthinkable horrific deeds? How can a human stoop so low? Manitou would suggest that this was possible because they detached themselves from their deeds by attributing them to G-d and simultaneously painted their victims as deserving of death because they had forsaken that very same G-d.

For Ishmael to benefit from the blessings that Abraham extracted from G-d, he would have had to use the opportunity[7] he was blessed with “to study wisdom and perform mitzvot in order that we will merit the life of the world to come”. He would have to take upon himself full responsibility and not foist it upon a third party, Divine or otherwise. Alas, because of his fatalism, Ishmael was not up to the task and his blessings gave birth to Al-Qaeda, ISIS and Hamas[8]. His fatalism led not to life, but, to death. So much death.

This year I have not been asked to read the Portion of Lech Lecha. But if the Torah Reader loses his voice again this year, here is what will be going through my mind: The fact that we read Abraham’s blessing to Ishmael each year charges us to succeed where Ishmael failed. We must not simply plod ahead. We must “hit’halech”. We must look inside ourselves and then actively use our blessings – so many blessings – to choose right from wrong, to better ourselves, our nation, and the world.

Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5785

Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Shlomo ben Esther, Sheindel Devorah bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, and Meir ben Drora.

[1] Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known by his acronym “Rashi,” was the most eminent of the medieval commentators. He lived in northern France in the 11^th century.

[2] Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, known by his acronym “Ramban”, lived in Spain and Israel in the 13^th century.

[3] For instance, l’kadesh means to sanctify an object while l’hit’kadesh means make one’s self holy.

[4] Onkelos possibly identical to Aquila of Sinope, was a Roman national who converted to Judaism at the beginning of the first millenium.

[5] Rabbi Yehuda Léon Ashkénazi, better known as “Manitou”, played a critical role in rebuilding the French Jewish community after World War II

[6] Sod Midrash HaToladot 5

[7] One such opportunity could be copious deposits of hydrocarbons.

[8] I am not suggesting that Islam breeds terror. I am saying that justification of terror as an acceptable way to accomplish one’s national goals can be nurtured by the same kind of fatalism that was evident in Saudi Arabia in 2015.