Fighting for Identity in a World of Lavans

Print Article

I want to share with you a fascinating debate – between two AI tools, ChatGPT and Claude – about the top ten villains in Jewish history. 

When I first asked, “List the top ten villains in Jewish history,” both tools broke it down into ancient, medieval, and modern periods. 

But then I clarified: “I want a comprehensive list of the top ten villains from all of Jewish history.”

ChatGPT produced this list: Pharaoh of the Exodus, Haman, Amalek, Lavan, Nebuchadnezzar, Roman Empire leaders like Titus, Torquemada and the Spanish Inquisition leaders, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, and modern ideological villains, like anti-Israel purists and BDS leaders. 

Claude offered a slightly different take: Adolf Hitler, Haman, Antiochus IV Epiphanes, Titus, Torquemada, Bohdan Khmelnysky, Hadrian, Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, Nebuchadnezzar, and Joseph Stalin. Pharaoh was only a notable mention.

Imagine if we lived 2,000 years ago – what would their list look like? 

We don’t know for certain, but according to one Midrash, Lavan would rank higher than Pharaoh.

At the Seder, we recite a line so familiar we rarely notice how radical it is:

צא ולמד מה ביקש לבן הארמי לעשות ליעקב אבינו. שפרעה לא גזר אלא על הזכרים, ולבן ביקש לעקור את הכל.

"Go and learn what Lavan the Aramean intended to do to our father Yaakov. Pharaoh decreed only upon the males, but Lavan sought to uproot everything."

Somehow, Lavan – the smiling cousin from Aram – receives a harsher verdict than Pharaoh. Pharaoh enslaved us, drowned our children, and shaped the Jewish collective memory of suffering. 

And yet, Chazal say: Lavan sought to uproot everything.

If that is true, then Parshat Vayeitzei should show us how. But when we read the parsha, what do we actually see? 

Lavan is manipulative, dishonest, greedy – yes. 

But murderous? Did he intend to wipe out Yaakov and his family?

Even when Lavan finally overtakes Yaakov, he admits:

יֵשׁ לַקל־יָדִי לַעֲשׂוֹת עמכם רָע 

"It is within my power to do you harm, but God told me not to."

Was he truly planning murder? Hard to say. Killing the children? Even less likely.

So what does it mean that Lavan “sought to uproot everything”?

Pharaoh sought to destroy the Jewish people physically. Lavan’s goal was far more dangerous: to prevent Yaakov from becoming Yaakov, to absorb him into Aram, to prevent him from developing a distinct Jewish destiny. 

Keep him poor, dependent, morally confused, emotionally entangled, and too vulnerable to leave.

Yaakov arrives in Charan broken – fleeing from his brother, deceiving his father, without money or allies. 

In that moment, the Torah states:

וַיְסַפֵּר לָלָבָן אֵת כָּל הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה

"And he told Lavan all these things." (Breishit 30:27)

According to Rabbi Shmuel David Luzzato, Yaakov explains all the reasons he fled.

And Lavan exploits it. He substitutes Rachel for Leah, changes Yaakov’s wages, and gaslights him, portraying himself as the honest one and Yaakov as the deceiver. 

Lavan’s aggression is moral, psychological, and spiritual. The Maharal explains that Lavan’s hatred is essential, not circumstantial. He is opposed to Yaakov’s very existence – not for what Yaakov did, but for who he is.

Pharaoh enslaves bodies; Lavan corrodes souls. In many generations – including perhaps ours – Lavan is the greater threat. 

Lavan’s hostility develops in stages, a pattern that mirrors the archetype of antisemitism.

At first, there is admiration and dependence. The Torah states:

וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו לָבָן אִם־נָא מָצָאתִי חֵן בְּעֵינֶיךָ נִחַשְׁתִּי וַיְבָרֲכֵנִי יְקֹוָק בִּגְלָלֶךָ

"And Lavan said to Yaakov, ‘I beg you, if I have found favor in your eyes, remain here with me, for I have learned by divination that Hashem has blessed me for your sake.’" (Breishit 30:27)

At this stage, Lavan acknowledges Yaakov’s value and feels beholden to him.

Next, envy and false accusations emerge. The Torah records:

וַיִּשְׁמַ֗ע אֶת־דִּבְרֵ֤י בְנֵֽי־לָבָן֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר לָקַ֣ח יַעֲקֹ֔ב אֵ֖ת כָּל־אֲשֶׁ֣ר לְאָבִ֑ינוּ 

 "And Yaakov began to hear that Lavan’s sons were saying, ‘Yaakov has taken everything belonging to our father.’” (Breishit 31:1)

Here, admiration turns to resentment, and jealousy begins to fester.

Finally, Lavan attempts to dominate and claim possession, escalating his malice. He declares:

יֵשׁ לקל ידי לַעֲשׂוֹת עִמָּכֶם רָע... הַבָּנוֹת בְּנֹתַי וְהַבָּנִים בָּנַי וְהַצֹּאן צֹאנִי וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר־אַתָּה רֹאֶה לִי־הוּא

"It is within my power to do you harm…These daughters are my daughters, these children are my children, and these cattle are my cattle, and all that you see is mine." (Breishit 31:29, 43)

What was once admiration becomes entitlement and aggression. Lavan moves from respect to envy, and finally to a desire to dominate, claiming as his own what he once admired in Yaakov.

Pharaoh was an obvious villain – a tyrant. Lavan smiles, negotiates, invokes “local custom,” claims moral superiority, and presents himself as the wronged party. He is the first gaslighter in Jewish history.

Yaakov only leaves when four realities pierce the illusion: Lavan’s sons whisper against him, Lavan’s expression changes, God commands him to return home, and his wives declare, “There is nothing left for us here.” Only then does Yaakov realize: no argument can win. No approval is coming.

Today we encounter Lavans – not Pharaohs. Military threats we know how to confront: Iran and its proxies, Hamas and Hezbollah. But what about those who say: “You are committing genocide. You are colonizers. You do not deserve to exist”? They speak moral language, claim ethical superiority, and twist morality into a weapon. We argue, reason, and explain – but like Yaakov, we see that their opposition is essential, not circumstantial.

Peter Beinart illustrates the modern Lavan. A prominent progressive Jewish voice, he is critical of Israeli policies and engages with the pro-Palestinian movement, which seeks to delegitimize Israel through campaigns like Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS). He faced relentless pressure for speaking at Tel Aviv University, where he intended to offer critique of Israel. I read an article titled, “Far-left US Jewish writer Beinart apologizes for speaking to Israelis at Tel Aviv University.” At first, I thought he was apologizing for being too critical of Israel – but I was wrong. He apologized simply for speaking at an Israeli university. According to the boycott movement, he should have refused to engage with Israeli academic institutions, which they accuse of being “deeply complicit in enabling and whitewashing Israel’s US-armed and funded genocide, as well as its decades-long regime of settler-colonialism, military occupation, and apartheid.” Simply talking to someone outside one’s ideological circle became a moral crime. Morality was being wielded as a tool to exclude and punish. No Jew—even someone like Beinart – is ever “good enough” for such a Lavan.

Yaakov’s turning point is not convincing Lavan – he never does. It is remembering who he is. His strength is not Lavan’s approval, but his own moral clarity.

In the beginning of the parsha, Yaakov dreams of angels. After years in Lavan’s house, he loses sight of them. Only when he finally leaves – on his own path – does he see angels again:

וַיֵּפְג֥עוּ בוֹ מַלְאֲכֵי אֱלֹקים

"And the angels of God met him."

An enemy who attacks your body can be resisted. An enemy who attacks your identity, morality, and self-perception is far more dangerous. Yet the Torah shows us the way: hold fast to who you are. Live your values, even when the world distorts them. Follow the voice that tells you to return home.

And just as Yaakov realized he could not convince Lavan, we too must recognize modern Lavans: those who cloak hostility in ethics, demand confession for the “crime” of being ourselves, and claim moral authority while rejecting our very existence. We cannot win their approval. We cannot make them see truth. But we can remember who we are. We can hold fast to our values, clarity, and identity. That is our victory. That is how we survive, thrive, and see the angels return – not when the world validates us, but when we stand steadfast in our own moral truth.