There are two questions that this sentence poses. Firstly, this hardly seems to
present a plausible explanation to present for the refusal of the Jews to listen
to Moses. One would have thought that precisely because their work was so hard
they would have grasped at the opportunity of freedom.
Secondly, what does the phrase “shortness of spirit” or of breath add to the
meaning? Surely if one works hard one generally is short of breath? The
commentary, Orach Hayim [Rabbi Chaim ben Attar – Morocco 1696- 1742] interprets
the phrase to mean “a contraction of the heart”. The Jews were suffering not so
much from the shortness of breath of broken bodies, butt the destruction of
their emotional and imaginative capacities to ever believe that they could be
free again. A broken heart often requires longer toheal than a broken body.
The despondency that even rejects the prospect of freedom was a clear objective
of the Egyptians. Rabbi Baruch Halevi Epstein [1860 – 1904] notes that the
phrase “And the Egyptians dealt ill with us” is better interpreted as “And the
Egyptians made us out to be evil”.
A propaganda campaign to de-legitimise and de-humanise the Jews would not only
soothe the conscience of the Egyptian populace, but also strip the Jews of their
self-esteem and even of their desire to achieve freedom.
Rabbi Reuven Bulka sees this idea reflected in the four stages of redemption
“And I will take you out”, from under the under the burdens of the Egyptians,
“And I will redeem you” with an outstretched arm, “And I will take you” to G-d
as a people. [Shemot 6:6-7]
Two questions arise immediately. Firstly the stages of deliverance seem strange
in their sequence. To be delivered from slavery, would normally precede being
taken out from under the burden of the Egyptians, for if the burden of Egypt is
to be relieved surely the enslavement must have been terminated. Yet in the
Torah, “And I will take you out” appears before “I will deliver you”?
Secondly, assuming the omniscience of G-d, why was Moses instructed to tell the
people the timetable which G-d knew would not be listened to? Is this not a
futile exercise which would have been skipped? Could not the action necessary
for deliverance to be initiated without this?
Reflecting on the plight of the Jewish people in Egypt, the question of how the
people survived this cruel treatment must arise. What were the collective
thoughts of the captives? Were they eager to rid themselves of this backbreaking
servitude, or had slavery become a way of life for them, to the extent that they
were psychologically unable to part from their predicament?
If the latter was the case, if the people were emotionally entrapped, then all
the glorious works of G-d would be futile. The first step to redemption would,
of necessity, be directed towards freeing the people from this psychological
straightjacket. The Almighty recognised this need, and expressed it at the first
stage of redemption, “And I will take you out”, - a procedure through which the
desire for freedom would be reawakened in the minds and hearts of the Jews.
Before “And I will save you”, there had to be a psychological “And I will bring
you out”, a freeing of the people from a deeper human bondage that had crept
into their inner systems.
The need probably seemed as incredulous to Moses as it appears to us. Moses
could not comprehend that the nation could be so apathetic about its own
destiny. Moses was therefore told to speak to the people, to see for himself if
they really wanted to go. To his consternation, the beleaguered serfs completely
ignored him. They were as enslaved by their work as by the Egyptians. Only
small, calculated doses of relaxed existence would, by contrast, impress upon
the bonded nation the yoke that was theirs.
The ten plagues thus assumed a dual function. They were inflicted not only as a
punishment for the dastardly deeds of the Egyptians. At the same time, they
served as the apparatus through which the appetite of the Jewish people for
self-determination was whetted. Each plague was a temporary relief from slavery;
each plague was a small dose of autonomy. By the advent of the final plague, the
Jews were physically and psychologically eager to shed the cloak of serfdom.
There are those who would tell us that even today, we are enslaved by our work.
To what extent we are masters of our situation, or to what extent has the
situation mastered us? If Moses were to come to us today, would we ignore him?
