On October 15, 1982, in the shadow of the First Lebanon War, Rav Aharon Lichtenstein published an open letter to Prime Minister Menachem Begin in the religious-Zionist newspaper Hatzofeh.

He emphasized the importance of the State of Israel taking responsibility for its part in the massacres in Sabra and Shatila, two Beirut neighborhoods, where IDF-backed Lebanese Christian militias had killed thousands of Palestinian civilians. Begin was initially unwilling to conduct any investigation into the affair, and Rav Lichtenstein strongly criticized him for what he saw as an un-Jewish refusal to confront difficult truths.

Rav Lichtenstein’s argument was not an accusation against the IDF but a moral call for those entrusted with power to uphold the highest standards of ethical accountability.

In the letter, he invoked the story of King Saul and Amalek, which we read this week as the haftarah for Shabbat Zachor.

King Saul and Amalek

Why, Rav Lichtenstein asked, was Saul punished for sparing the life of Agag, king of Amalek? Was it simply that he had left an Amalekite – any Amalekite – alive? Rav Lichtenstein suggested that the identity of the one victim spared was significant. Saul had left Agag alive because he identified with him, as one king to another. He had used his own human logic and values to decide whom to kill and whom to spare.

By doing so, Saul did not merely become guilty of disobeying a difficult divine command to kill all of the Amalekites; he assumed personal responsibility for all the Amalekites he had killed in the course of the battle.

The king had been commanded to destroy an entire people. Such an act cannot be justified on ordinary moral grounds; it can only be understood as obedience to an explicit and unambiguous divine command.

Precisely because such a command lies outside of ordinary moral reasoning, it cannot serve as a model for human judgement in any other context. Thus, the minute that Saul decided to make an exception, all the other killings ceased to be part of the divine command, becoming his own moral responsibility instead.

This is the great trade-off in the story of Amalek and its destruction, and it contains an important lesson for today. Once we step outside the established moral framework of a situation and let emotions guide our decisions, like Saul did, we put ourselves and our society at risk of heading down an immoral or unjustified path, of losing our moral legitimacy, and of causing more harm than good.

Our times

In any historical context, including ours today, it is necessary and justifiable to decisively defeat enemies sworn to our destruction. But the moment we allow our righteous indignation or the power of our own judgment to go even the smallest bit past defensive strategy – the moment military action spills over into vigilantism, when civilian life and property are endangered one iota more than absolutely necessary – we run the risk of our just and necessary war being transformed into an abandonment of our values.

While military strength and valor are critical to our national survival, they cannot lead to victory or peace if we abandon our values.

AN ISRAELI settler (R) and a Palestinian farmer are seen arguing during olive harvesting in Silwad, near Ramallah, on October 29, 2025.
AN ISRAELI settler (R) and a Palestinian farmer are seen arguing during olive harvesting in Silwad, near Ramallah, on October 29, 2025. (credit: MOHAMAD TOROKMAN/REUTERS)

This is an obligation that goes beyond the brave soldiers who are on the front lines. Community and political leaders, educators, and rabbis need to call out the behavior of those in our own camp that jeopardizes the justice of our cause.

In recent months, there have been repeated criminal incidents in which a small minority of misguided Israeli youth have attacked Palestinians and vandalized their properties in Judea and Samaria, as well as attacking fellow Jews for the “crime” of simply working with or employing Palestinians. Tragically, these young Israelis have embraced a hate-filled, racist worldview. They take out their anger violently on innocent people, solely because of the victims’ religious and cultural identities.

Jewish morality

In the face of these crimes, we cannot remain silent. Despite all the challenges that we face, and notwithstanding the unfathomable hate and vitriol directed at the Jewish people and the State of Israel, we dare not allow fear and victimhood to eat away at our own mores and principles. This is the central message of the story of Amalek, the flip side of the commandment to destroy.

In sharp contrast to the lawless extremist youth, in the most recent conflict we have seen the heroic soldiers of the IDF uphold the values of Judaism with justice and mercy. We’ve seen our soldiers enter damaged residential buildings in Gaza to rescue Palestinian families. We’ve seen units helping and protecting Palestinian children caught in the crosshairs of fire from an enemy that deliberately hides among civilians.

Our sons and daughters on the frontlines have made brave decisions that have put themselves and their comrades at risk because they follow the values of the Torah. Because they understand that the command to wipe out Amalek was the exception and that Amalek no longer exists. For the enduring rule of Jewish life is to act, even at times of war, with compassion and moral restraint toward all human beings.

The writer is president and rosh yeshiva of Ohr Torah Stone.