Parshat Balak: The Power of the People
This week’s parsha, Parshat Balak, opens with Balak, king of Moav, summoning the prophet Bilaam to curse the Israelites during the final years of their desert wandering. Balak learned about the Israelites’ miraculous defeat of the Emorite kings Sichon and Og. When he saw the Israelites encamped on his borders, he panicked. He didn’t send diplomats. He didn’t engage and ask what kind of society Israel is building. Instead, he hired a prophet, Bilam, to curse them into oblivion from a distance.
And yet, surprisingly, his story ends with blessing. Bilam warns the king that he is limited in what he can say: “I can utter only the word that God puts in my mouth.” He cannot utter curses against God’s will. “How can I curse whom God has not cursed?” he says. (Numbers 23:8). Instead of cursing Israel, Bilam ends up delivering a blessing so eloquent that it becomes part of our daily liturgy: “Ma tovu ohalecha Yaakov…” — “How goodly are your tents, O Jacob.”
It’s a remarkable twist—but also a subtle reminder: foreign powers may try to dominate the Jewish people from afar, but their plans are never the final word. God’s will overrides political fear. Ultimately it comes back to how we choose to respond to the unexpected. And sometimes, astonishingly, blessings come from the most unlikely sources.
Of course, this isn’t the only story in Tanakh about the interaction between foreign kings and Israel. And this week, I want to compare Balak’s story to a very different set of rulers: the Persian kings of the Book of Ezra and Nehemiah, with thanks to Yael Leibowitz and her book on Ezra-Nehemia for the inspiration.
After the Babylonian exile, when the Jewish people are scattered and the First Temple is destroyed, it is a line of Persian kings—Cyrus, Darius, and Artaxerxes—who enable their return. They issue decrees allowing the Jews to rebuild the Temple and the walls of Jerusalem. They fund it. They protect it. And they work not just with a single leader or priest, but with an “amalgam of leaders” from the entire community. Of course, the period of Ezra-Nehemia is replete with difficulties. As Leibowitz writes, “Disappointment is acknowledged…but discontent and gratitude can coexist.”
In fact, one of the great takeaways from Ezra-Nehemiah is the power of collective leadership. The orders of the three Persian kings are relayed in line with the aspirations of Jewish prophets, dispatched by local leaders in Judah and carried out by the Jewish populace through grassroots efforts. This presents the ideal interplay of power.
So what changed over time? Why was Balak an enemy while the Persian rulers became partners?
The answer lies in relationship and partnership.
Balak saw Israel’s strength and panicked. He and Bilaam look upon Israel from a distance, without ever engaging directly. As Rabbi Tali Adler writes, “[Bilaam] is a man on a predetermined mission and will tolerate no diversions. He has no use for curiosity, nor, it seems, for compassion.” The Persian kings saw Israel’s mission, respond to the moment and empowered the Jewish people to return to their homeland to rebuild the Temple.
Balak acted despite the people, with zero room for engagement. Cyrus acted with them.
And just as importantly, the Jewish community of Ezra-Nehemiah did not wait passively for permission or miracles. They organized. They read Torah publicly in the streets. They celebrated the feast of Tabernacles. Though leaders played a role, “the initiative is indisputably that of the people.” The Persian kings may have had imperial power, but it was the lay people’s participation that made restoration possible.
We live in a world still shaped by fluctuating political power and shifting alliances. We see leaders, both foreign and domestic, whose decisions impact our communities in profound ways. Through the contrasting stories of Balak and the Persian kings, the Torah offers us a timeless truth: foreign powers may influence our fate, but the real power lies within how we, as a community, choose to respond to a moment in time.
Balak acted from fear and control; the Persian kings, from recognition and respect. But crucially, it was the Jewish people themselves in the time of Ezra and Nehemiah who stepped forward. They didn’t wait passively for miracles. They organized, rebuilt and reclaimed their communal life with determination and shared purpose.
The same is true today. Whether we are combating antisemitism, standing up for justice, engaging with others in community or building more inclusive Jewish spaces, lasting change does not come from policy alone. It comes when people show up, take ownership and say: this is ours to build.
Rabbi Sacks importantly noted:
“Without the Jewish nation, Judaism would cease to be what it has always been: the faith of a people bound by a bond of collective responsibility to one another and to God.” It is the “primacy of the people” that distinguishes us.
Balak reminds us of the dangers when leadership is driven by fear and disconnection. Ezra and Nehemiah remind us of the transformative power of partnership, responsibility and community.
In an era of uncertainty and division, how can we be active partners with each other and with God to shape a society rooted in justice, compassion, Torah, and inclusion?
