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The biggest spiritual revolutions don’t come through pressure—but from trends nobody even realizes.

Russia’s “New” Tactic

I once read an article in the New York Times titled, “Russia Is Using New Methods to Silence Opponents of the Regime.” It told the story of a man who belongs to an anti-Putin group and tried to dodge the draft. In Russia, every man over eighteen is required by law to serve a year in the army. This was before the invasion of Ukraine, but nevertheless, military service is extremely difficult, and some commanders are brutal with the soldiers, so civilians do everything they can to avoid being drafted.

This man had never served in the army. Recently, they burst into his home, arrested him, drafted him on the spot, and sent him to serve on an air force base in Siberia, where the cold is unbearable and it’s freezing even in August. All of this was done to shut him up and to frighten anyone else who might dare to oppose the regime.

It’s all true, but I laughed when I read the title. These are not “new methods.” These are the same old Russian methods they’ve always used to silence anyone who dares to disagree with the government.

Already some seventy years ago, my father, of blessed memory, was exiled to Siberia for forced labor, along with millions of others. That’s how they operated throughout seventy years of communism—and now they’re simply going back to the same old tactics.

However, the interesting thing is that these methods can work in the short term, but if you look at the results, in the long run they simply don’t last. The mighty Soviet regime, once a world superpower, basically collapsed under its own weight. Why? Because you can’t really change people’s beliefs by force.

The same thing happened in the story of Chanukah. The Greeks tried to force the Jews to abandon their faith. They outlawed Shabbat and the Jewish holidays. They defiled the Beis HaMikdash by bringing idols inside. They banned bris milah, and they decreed that anyone who broke these laws would be put to death.

But the Jews refused to give in. They sacrificed everything—literally their lives—to keep the mitzvos. After three long years of Antiochus’s decrees, the Maccabean revolt broke out, and in the end, that’s how we received the holiday of Chanukah.

Yosef’s Forced Circumcision

We see the same idea in this week’s parsha. 

In Parshas Mikeitz we read about Pharaoh’s dreams and how Yosef interpreted them: Egypt would enjoy seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine when the Nile would dry up (Bereishis Rabbah 89:4), leaving the entire country starving for food. Of course, Yosef didn’t just deliver bad news—he offered a solution. He advised Pharaoh to collect grain during the good years and store it securely, so that when the famine arrived, Egypt would have reserves and be saved. Pharaoh was so impressed that he appointed Yosef as governor, and the Torah says he gathered grain “like the sand of the sea” (Miketz 41:49).

Then the Torah tells us that the years of famine began, “and all of Egypt was hungry,” and the people cried out to Pharaoh for bread. Pharaoh simply told them, “Go to Yosef. Whatever he tells you—do” (41:55).

Why did the Egyptians come crying to Pharaoh for food? Didn’t they all store grain “like the sand of the sea?” 

Rashi explains: all the grain that the Egyptians themselves had collected rotted—except for Yosef’s. So really, they had to go to Yosef. 

Why, then, did they run to Pharaoh? Because Yosef told them that if they wanted food, they first had to undergo circumcision. This was something completely foreign to the Egyptians—at that time, only the descendants of Avraham practiced bris milah. When they heard this requirement, they were outraged—and went to complain to Pharaoh. 

Pharaoh told them: “Why didn’t you store grain? You were warned that a famine was coming.” 

They answered, “We did—but it rotted.” 

Pharaoh then answered, essentially: “If Yosef is the only one whose grain miraculously didn’t rot, then clearly everything depends on him. Whatever he tells you—do.”

Why would Yosef force the entire Egyptian population to undergo bris milah? After all, the mitzvah applies only to Avraham’s descendants!

The Rebbe explains the halachic reasoning: Hashem commanded Avraham, “Every male born in your house or purchased with your money must be circumcised” (Bereishis 17:13). In other words, a Jew’s servants are also obligated in circumcision. Since, during the famine, the Egyptians essentially became dependent on—and subordinate to—Yosef, they were halachically viewed as his servants. And therefore, they too were obligated to undergo circumcision.

But perhaps there was also a ‘cultural’ reason:

The Yefeh Toar explains that since the Egyptians mocked Yosef and his family for being circumcised—as uncircumcised people often belittled those who were—Yosef required them to undergo circumcision. Moreover: Yosef foresaw that the Jewish people would one day go into exile in Egypt, and he feared that they might assimilate and abandon the mitzvah of bris milah. So he decided to obligate the Egyptians themselves to be circumcised, ensuring that the Jews would not feel social pressure to give up this mitzvah (Etz Yosef to Midrash Tanchuma, Miketz 7 — Chumash Kol Menachem pg. 306)). 

And indeed, the Egyptians did circumcise themselves.

But here’s the big question—the question of using force. Let’s look at the results. Did Yosef actually succeed in changing Egyptian culture so that they would continue circumcising themselves? 

The answer appears in the Haggadah. The Haggadah quotes the verse from Yechezkel, “I passed by you and saw you wallowing in your blood, and I said to you: By your blood you shall live—by your blood you shall live” (Yechezkel 16:6). Rashi explains that before the Exodus, the Jewish people were not spiritually worthy of redemption, so Hashem gave them two mitzvos—the blood of the Passover Lamb and the blood of circumcision—and they circumcised themselves that very night (Shemos 12:6).

It turns out that just a few generations later, not only did the Egyptians abandon the practice and stop circumcising themselves, but many Jews began imitating them and also stopped performing bris milah. That’s why, on the eve of the Exodus, the entire Jewish people needed to circumcise themselves again.

This shows—again—that forcing people to do something against their will simply does not last.

Trends

So what is the right approach? 

In recent years we’ve seen something remarkable: G-d finds ways for Jews to fulfill mitzvos without pressure, without battles, but gently. 

For example, a fascinating trend has spread: more and more people have become vegan, refusing to eat anything that comes from animals. And among them are many Jews—who, in true Jewish fashion, are often the strictest about the rules of veganism. In 2017, international media crowned Tel Aviv as “the vegan capital of the world,” because it had more vegan restaurants than any other city on earth—serving some 200,000 vegans in Israel!

So what’s really going on? G-d sees that many Jews, for whatever reason, don’t keep kosher—especially in places like Tel Aviv. But He loves His children and wants to give them the merit of keeping kosher. Forcing Jews doesn’t work—we’re famously “a stiff-necked people.” So He arranged for veganism to become a worldwide trend. And since Jews are always the first to jump into any new movement, they became leaders in this one too. They don’t realize it, but someone who eats no animal products is, practically speaking, keeping kosher almost perfectly.

A mitzvah without anyone even noticing—done with love instead of force.

Another trend that has spread in recent years is growing a beard. Until about ten years ago, typically only observant Jews grew beards. But around 2010, everything changed: celebrities and Hollywood actors began growing beards, and it quickly became a global fashion trend. Everyone has their own explanation for why they’re doing it—style, confidence, “it suits my face”—but certainly none of them are doing it for religious reasons. Yet in practice, without realizing it, they are fulfilling Hashem’s will. (Based on the Rebbe’s letter regarding taharas hamishpachah, Igros Kodesh vol. 10, p. 31.)

And this is exactly what the Rebbe did with Chanukah. Forty or fifty years ago, Chanukah was considered a minor, almost overlooked holiday—especially in the public sphere. Then the Rebbe announced that giant menorahs should be placed in city centers around the world. Presidents, world leaders, and well-known public figures began attending menorah lightings. And now, decades later, public Chanukah lightings have become a global phenomenon.

Today, everywhere you look—Jewish organizations, malls, shopping centers—everyone is organizing public menorah lightings on their own initiative. The menorah is more visible in the public square today than at any time in Jewish history since the original miracle.

That was always the Rebbe’s goal: to turn mitzvos into global trends—something people naturally want to take part in. So as part of a Chabad community, you get a front-row seat. You’re the first to know what the next “big trend” in mitzvos will be—and you get to join in long before the rest of the world catches on.

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