'We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt." So begins the heart of the Haggadah. But what is the particular significance of the location of our oppression?
The land of Egypt is referred to frequently in the Torah. Its luscious vegetation made it a paradise, "like the Garden of God" (Genesis 13:10). The Nile overflowed its banks seasonally and was used to irrigate this great ancient civilisation. Unlike Israel with its recurrent droughts, Egypt depended little on rainfall (Deuteronomy 11:10-11).
The Torah's name for Egypt, Mitzrayim, has a dual suffix. This is similar to mayim (waters) and shamayim (heavens), which both have a dual nature in the description of the second day of Creation (Genesis 1:6-8). The linguistic duality of Mitzrayim could be a reference to the Upper and Lower lands of Egypt, which were physically and culturally distinct. Lower Egypt consisted of the Nile Delta flowing into the Mediterranean, while Upper Egypt was a population that sprawled along the southern Nile heading towards its source deep in Africa.
Professor JA Wilson, in The Intellectual Adventure of Ancient Man, writes: "From time immemorial these two regions have had a self-conscious separation… they were traditionally and continuingly competitive. Yet they were a unity in their isolation from the rest of the world, and they were a unity on their dependence on the Nile. It was a function of government to make Upper and Lower Egypt an effective single nation. This was done by incorporating authority and responsibility for both regions in a single figure, the god-king," (pages 73-74).
Thus the Pharaoh of Egypt was the "Lord of the Two Lands", who wore a double crown symbolising the union of the two regions. In recognition of the distinct needs of each region, there were two viziers, two treasurers and often two capitals. The political prowess and economic stability of this ancient superpower was thus dependent on the Pharaoh as an assertive figure of national unity.
There is a teaching that each of us must free ourselves from our own personal Egypt
We can now read the Exodus story from a new vantage point. Maybe Pharaoh's magicians and servants, mentioned in the Torah during the Ten Plagues (Exodus 7:22, 8:14, 9:11, 10:1), were amassed from representatives of Upper and Lower Egypt. Indeed, it may have been they to whom the previous Pharaoh had spoken when he first instructed that the Children of Israel should be enslaved (Exodus 1:10).
If so, then we can now understand the demoralising warning that Moses gave prior to the plague of locusts: "Your houses will be completely infested, and the houses of your servants and the houses of all of Egypt" (Exodus 10:6). This threat to both Upper and Lower Egypt prompts Pharaoh's servants to dare to challenge at him, "Don't you realise that Egypt is doomed?" (Exodus 10:7). To keep national unity, Pharaoh initially acquiesces, but swiftly changes his mind when Moses makes more demands (Exodus 10:8-11). And so the devastating plague is unleashed and reaches "to all the borders of Egypt" (Exodus 10:14), from the north to the south, wiping out their entire agricultural economy overnight.
Pharaoh's stubborn inflexibility caused a crack in the stability of this dual nation, spelling its downfall. This is echoed in the word Mitzrayim, which is also related to the word metzarim, meaning "confined spaces", and tza'ar, meaning "distress". Pharaoh's narrow perspective made him unwilling to negotiate, and plunged Egypt into "dire straits" (tza'arei metzarim).
In the Hallel prayer, which we say on festivals and on Seder night, we call out to God from such confinement, "In my distress/confinement I called to God; God answered me and freed/opened me up" (Psalm 118:5). We are asking not to fall victim to the mistakes of Pharaoh. Based on this, there is a Chasidic teaching that each of us must free ourselves from our own personal Egypt, from our own narrowness and close-mindedness, on Pesach.
There is a common quip: "If you are too open-minded, your brain might fall out." But my response is: "Yes, but if you are too closed-minded then you might forget you have one." Just as we must open up our doors and windows to dispose of our chametz before Pesach, so too we must open up our hearts and minds so our feelings and attitudes do not get stuffy and narrow. Freedom is the release from both outer (historical) and inner (psychological) slavery. This is the deep dual nature of Mitzrayim. Both mind and body must be unchained in order to be free. I hope we make it out this year.
