Speaking Truth to Power – Bo 5785
There’s an extraordinary moment in parshat Bo that is unlike any other in the Exodus narrative, and echoes in our own time. In many settings, it can be uncomfortable or even dangerous to speak truth to power – to tell someone in charge that what they’re doing is neither in their best interest nor that of those they serve, and that their perception of reality is incorrect.
As the parshah opens, Egypt is in the midst of experiencing the ten plagues. So far they’ve endured the Nile turning to blood, an over-abundance of frogs, itchy lice, wild animals run amok, cattle disease, painful boils, and hail that turns to fire as it strikes the ground. Moses repeatedly returns to Pharaoh asking him to let the people go, but Pharaoh continues to refuse, even as his subjects suffer greatly.
Parshat Bo begins with Moses coming before Pharaoh and threatening the eighth plague- swarms of locusts that will eat everything in sight, including all the vegetation that was not previously destroyed by the hail. Pharaoh, true to form, moves the proverbial goalposts and offers to only let the Israelite men go, and not the entire nation, which is not the agreement that Moses is seeking.
Then, in an amazing moment before the locusts are brought upon the land, Pharaoh’s courtiers become incredulous. The Torah states in chapter 10 verse 7:
וַיֹּאמְרוּ֩ עַבְדֵ֨י פַרְעֹ֜ה אֵלָ֗יו עַד־מָתַי֙ יִהְיֶ֨ה זֶ֥ה לָ֙נוּ֙ לְמוֹקֵ֔שׁ שַׁלַּח֙ אֶת־הָ֣אֲנָשִׁ֔ים וְיַֽעַבְד֖וּ אֶת־יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵיהֶ֑ם.
“Pharaoh’s courtiers said to him, “How long shall this one be a snare to us? Let the men go to worship the LORD their God!”
And then, amazingly in the same verse, speaking truth to power, the courtiers exclaim: הֲטֶ֣רֶם תֵּדַ֔ע כִּ֥י אָבְדָ֖ה מִצְרָֽיִם׃ “Are you not yet aware that Egypt is lost?!”
You can almost picture them pulling their hair out, imploring Pharaoh to put an end to their misery and accept that it’s in everyone’s best interest if the Israelites go free.
Although the Egyptians are in for three more incredibly severe plagues, I can imagine that at the time it must’ve at least provided some partial relief for Pharaoh’s courtiers to be so outspoken, even with a degree of personal risk. It must have felt good for at least a few moments to have basically said to Pharaoh, “The game is up!”, and then hope- at least for a moment- that Pharaoh would come to his senses sooner rather than later.
There is earlier foreshadowing of this in the Torah; after Moses turns the Nile to blood and brings frogs upon the land, Pharaoh’s magicians replicate the same actions, as if to say: “See, your ‘god’ isn’t special; this is nothing that we can’t bring about ourselves.” But after the third plague of lice, the Egyptians are unable to replicate it. They grow scared and exclaim, “This is the finger of God that’s doing this!” They simultaneously acknowledge that they are powerless, while also speaking truth to power- both of which can be (and often is) no easy task.
It’s cathartic to unburden ourselves, especially at this time when it seems that power, in many places, is running amok in ways that are hurtful to so many. Since last Shabbat, I’ve spoken with multiple congregants about the interaction between the president and Reverend Marian Budde. As you may recall, during an interfaith prayer service the day after the inauguration, Revered Budde preached a message of unity while challenging the assumptions held by some of those who lead us.
Addressing the president directly, she preached: “I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now”, as reported by the Associated Press. “There are gay, lesbian, and transgender children in Democratic, Republican, and independent families, some who fear for their lives…the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals” she preached, calling them “good neighbors” and “faithful members” of religious communities.
All of this is statistically, objectively true. On a personal note: as a Jew, as a rabbi, as a multilingual person who rejoices in the multiculturalism of our country, and as a father to a non-binary child, I would be lying if I were to tell you that I don’t have my own moments of fear and profound disagreement with those who lead us. Let me also state that I’ve had moments of disagreement with government officials of both of our major political parties, and that my own feelings in this instance are non-partisan.
Reverend Budde, in her own way, summoned the courage exhibited by Pharaoh’s advisers by speaking truth to power, even though the ones in power were ultimately not swayed by their words. The advisers who speak to Pharaoh, who are at the end of their rope after enduring the agony of the plagues, are not themselves the first ones to either disobey Pharaoh or disagree with his actions. The very first instance of this, we learn, are the Hebrew midwives- Shifrah and Puah- who refuse to comply with Pharaoh’s edict to kill the newborn Hebrew baby boys and are in turn rewarded with their own houses from G-d.
Not for the first time, we can learn a lesson from the Torah from figures who are less than perfect. It can be difficult and dangerous to speak truth to power in our own lives. Criticism can be hard to give, as well as receive.
So what do we do? We can acknowledge the truth plainly, and name both our frustration and our hope while calling out injustice when we see it. At the same time, we manifest this hope by prioritizing our mental and physical health, even while we acknowledge and accept that the world is as it is. We go for that walk or take that day off if we need it, while acknowledging that afterwards we’ll have to get back to doing the best we can. When we become hesitant to speak truth to power when it’s warranted- even if it’s ultimately for naught- we give tacit license to those in power to continue their actions.
In a much debated and controversial text, the Talmud in tractate Bava Metzia states: Shtika k’hoda’ah- “Silence is tantamount to consent”. Rabbi Esther Lederman has written:
“Isaac ben Moses Arama, a 16th century Spanish commentator, wrote: “When an entire group, or society commonly commits a transgression…it is absolutely essential to mount a public protest, even if no one [in power] listens, but at least one does not allow a mitzvah of the Torah to be totally disregarded….”
Calling out injustice and working to rectify it is part and parcel of what it means to be Jewish, both within our own communities and outside of them. This was the role of the prophets, who spoke truth to power and were largely roundly rejected. Nevertheless, the likelihood of failure in no way absolves a community from not holding its leaders to account.
In closing I’d like to quote another excerpt of Reverend Budde’s words from her address, which are all too necessary in this moment:
“Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were all once strangers in this land. May God grant us the strength and courage to honor the dignity of every human being, to speak the truth to one another in love and walk humbly with each other and our God for the good of all people.”