Zakhor - The Essence of Remembering Amalek

זָכוֹר אֵת אֲשֶׁר-עָשָׂה לְךָ עֲמָלֵק בַּדֶּרֶךְ בְּצֵאתְכֶם מִמִּצְרָיִם. אֲשֶׁר קָרְךָ בַּדֶּרֶךְ, וַיְזַנֵּב בְּךָ כָּל-הַנֶּחֱשָׁלִים אַחֲרֶיךָ--וְאַתָּה, עָיֵף וְיָגֵעַ; וְלֹא יָרֵא אֱלֹהִים. וְהָיָה בְּהָנִיחַ ה’ אֱלֹהֶיךָ לְךָ מִכָּל-אֹיְבֶיךָ מִסָּבִיב, בָּאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר ה’-אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לְךָ נַחֲלָה לְרִשְׁתָּהּ--תִּמְחֶה אֶת-זֵכֶר עֲמָלֵק מִתַּחַת הַשָּׁמָיִם -- לֹא תִּשְׁכָּח

Remember [זָכוֹר] what Amalek did to you on the way when you left Egypt. How he surprised you along the way, and cut down all the stragglers in the rear while you were tired and weary, and he had no fear of God. Therefore, when Hashem, your God, gives you rest from all your enemies surrounding you, in the land that Hashem, your God, is giving you as hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory [זֵכֶר] of Amalek from under heaven; do not forget! (Dt 25:17-19)

The obligation to “blot out the memory of Amalek” is unique among the mitzvot of the Torah. We readily assume that it demands an act of genocide, mostly due to I Sam. 15, where Samuel tells Saul to eradicate every Amalekite and even their livestock. We can also derive that conclusion from the response to the original story of the Amalekite attack in Ex 17:8-16, especially:

וַיֹּאמֶר ה’ אֶל-מֹשֶׁה, כְּתֹב זֹאת זִכָּרוֹן בַּסֵּפֶר, וְשִׂים בְּאָזְנֵי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ: כִּי-מָחֹה אֶמְחֶה אֶת-זֵכֶר עֲמָלֵק מִתַּחַת הַשָּׁמָיִם... וַיֹּאמֶר, כִּי-יָד עַל-כֵּס יָ-הּ, מִלְחָמָה לַה’ בַּעֲמָלֵק--מִדֹּר דֹּר

God said to Moshe: Write this as a remembrance (זִכָּרוֹן) in a book, and make certain that Joshua hears it, for I will utterly eradicate the memory (זֵכֶר) of Amalek from under heaven... And [Moshe] said, by hand on the throne of God, Hashem will battle Amalek in every generation. (vv.14, 16)

It should be noted that both of these passages, the one in Devarim and the one in Shemot, present a paradox: we are to blot out the memory of Amalek while remembering what Amalek did, or that God is to engage in eternal combat with the Amalekites. How are we to make sense of these passages given this paradox?

The very idea of זכרון, remembering, intensifies both the command and the paradox. Prof. Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, who died during the past year, authored his seminal monograph on the nature of memory in the Jewish tradition in the early 1980s. Jewish tradition has hardly a sense of history. This might seem a shocking, even heretical statement. But there is a difference between history and memory. History is largely a exercise in taking events from the past and analysing them, maybe for an educational exercise, maybe as a precaution to not repeat the mistakes of the past. But in history, the past always remains the past, and the past is never brought up to date.

Memory, and the Jewish obligation of זכור, is very different. We see this through a variety of rituals in Jewish traditions, especially the Passover Seder, when we re-enact the exodus and the slavery in Egypt. Past is made present, and we are there. There is no past, present or future - just as there is no past, present, or future tense in Biblical Hebrew. Time is stratified, and we are inserted into those events that we recall from millennia before. We are instructed in the Haggadah: בְּכָל־דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת־עַצְמוֹ כְּאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרָיִם, “in every generation, one is obligated to see himself as if he, himself, left Egypt.” The past is virtually present and alive, a part of our being. And it has relevance in our present lives.

זכר can also be a sensory act. We find the following usage in Hos 14:8: זִכְרוֹ כְּיֵין לְבָנוֹן, “his scent shall be like wine from Lebanon.” [I admit that there is some controversy to the accuracy of this translation, but work with me here...] There is something about some sensory acts, the Proustian memory, that involuntarily brings back a memory from time gone by.

How does this leave us with Amalek? Amalek’s acts are not to be thought of as simply the act of one attacker at one moment in time, but a state of mind that is filled with hatred and loathing, that takes advantage of the weak and weary, and that lacks any fear of Hashem.

In a literal sense, Amalek no longer walks in this world. But the spirit of Amalek is another matter.

Through these passages, Amalek represents all haters of Israel that have risen throughout the generations. The smallest of all peoples on God’s earth, we are also more despised per capita than any other, and we have probably suffered, and survived, more efforts at annihilation than any other people. For us, that comes with the territory. Despite that, we face the daunting task of being an or lagoyyim, a light unto the nations, a civilizing force. We must always be mindful of what Amalek did, and what its “spiritual” heirs continue to do.

On a larger scale, Amalek represents a reprehensible aspect of human nature, the will to take advantage over those who are weaker than us, to exercise power when it is possible. It is a part of our yetzer hara, our evil inclination.

In both cases, we need to remember and stand with those who have suffered, remembering what Amalek did to you - meaning, to us, as we left Egypt, putting our soles in the sandals of the weak and weary, so that we can understand, with empathy, why we must always remember to destroy Amalek once we reach our safe haven.