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Traducido por Balbino Cotarelo Núñez
Así como el discurso social y político se polariza más y más en los últimos años yo mismo me he polarizado. Ciertamente las palabras de moda despiertan una respuesta llena de ira en mí, hasta el punto de que me es imposible confiar en la bondad o el interés mutuo con otras personas que, sin disculpas, mantienen posturas diferentes a las mías. La tragedia de Simját Toráh este año y la guerra que le siguió en Israel, solo aumenta el número de asuntos que hacen que me bloquee y bloquee cualquier postura que siento que desafía (o mejor dicho amenaza) míspropias opiniones. Esta polarización de mi propio discurso personal no es positiva o ni siquiera es neutra. Creo con claridad que ese fallo debe ser rectificado. Sospecho que este enigma puede tener también su eco en otras personas.
Los Rabinos desprecia a Esaú. Lo desprecian por su personalidad y por su identificación con sus opresores, el gobierno y el ejército de Roma. Una inspección de capítulo 65 de Bereshit Rabá, que trata de la perashá Toledot, revela los siguientes midrashím:
- Después de una vida de desenfrenado libertinaje se casa a los 40 años buscando emular a su virtuoso padre (con una mujer llamada Yehudit nada más y nada menos). Los Rabinos lo comparan con un cerdo que mientras retoza en la inmundicia muestra sus pezuñas como queriendo aparentar que es casher.
- Dios hace que Isaac sea ciego para evitarle el trago de caminar en el exterior y oír cómo la gente dice: “Por ahí va el padre de un rashá”.
- Isaac se refiere a Esaú como su “hijo más grande” (benó hagadól) pero Dios sabe que Esaú y a las naciones que salen de él no son más que las “naciones más bajas”.
En medio de esta oleada de críticas e indignación hay un midrásh que da un trato totalmente diferente a Esaú (65: 15):
Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel said: “I served my father all the days of my life, but I did not give him one percent of the attention that Esau gave to his father. When I helped my father I did so in dirty clothes, but if I left the house, I did so in clean garments. But Esau when he helped his father he did so only in royal garments. He would say: ‘It is not proper to honor a father except to serve him in royal garments.'”
Without further pause, the Rabbis then immediately return to criticizing Esau’s wives.
What does it mean to discover that amid our disagreements about our most basic values we can find something in common? Esau honored his father. The Romans honored their parents. We might trivialize this singular redeeming trait: “Esau may have honored his father, but that does not change his essential character.” The Rabbis do not seem to take this tack. In the Talmudic discussion of how to honor parents ( Kiddushim 31a) they tell the following story:
How should one honor one’s parents? Rav Ula said: See what a gentile did in Ashkelon and his name was Dama ben Netina. One of the sages wanted to buy merchandise ( perakmatia ) from him worth six hundred thousand gold dinars, but the key to the chest with the merchandise was under his father’s head while he was sleeping. And Dama ben Netina did not want to wake his father even though he could have made a lot of money by doing so.
The Rabbis in fact hold up the Romans as models of good practice in how to honor parents.
Would this be enough of an inspiration to end the polarization I feel when I meet people who differ on important political issues in both Israel and the United States? Are common values enough to see beyond the fear and anger to the human being behind the opinion? It does not seem to have been enough for the Rabbis. Their distrust and revulsion for Esau and the Romans does not dissipate despite the Romans’ excellence in “honoring your fathers.”
I think, however, that it may be enough for me. I feel less anger and distrust of Esau knowing that he, like me, valued his father. That motivates me to think about his character in a different, more generous way. I don’t know to what extent that applies to my feelings for the Romans. But perhaps, step by step, that is the way forward. First is to recognize common values with people with whom I disagree. Even about fundamental things. Then, that recognition motivates me to open new avenues of communication. Once I can see common ground, perhaps I will be able to appreciate an increasing number of people. Maybe that is the solution.
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