What do Iranian ayatollahs, Hamas terrorists, European far-left activists, and American campus radicals have in common? On the surface, absolutely nothing ā their ideologies, cultures, and goals couldn’t be more different. Yet they’ve found perfect unity in their hatred of Israel, forming one of history’s most unlikely coalitions. This phenomenon of enemies uniting against a common target isn’t new ā it’s as old as the Bible itself.
The biblical story of Korah offers a timeless template for understanding how such unlikely alliances form. Korah was a prominent Levite who lived during the Israelites’ years in the wilderness, a man of status and influence who should have been content with his elevated position in the priestly tribe. Instead, he orchestrated one of history’s first recorded political rebellions, gathering malcontents from across tribal lines to challenge Moses and Aaron’s leadership. What started as individual grievances became a coordinated revolt that nearly tore the nation apart. The rebellion ended dramatically when “the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them” (Numbers 16:32), but the political dynamics Korah unleashed have echoed through history ever since.
The Sages identified the rebellion of Korah as the archetypal example of “argument not for the sake of heaven” ā discourse driven not by a genuine search for truth, but by the pursuit of power. As the Hebrew Bible tells us, Korah and his followers challenged Moses and Aaron, saying:
But their real motivation became clear through their actions: each faction wanted to replace the current leadership with themselves.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks observed a crucial principle: “If you want to understand resentments, listen to what people accuse others of, and you will then know what they themselves want.” Korah accused Moses of lording over the people because that’s exactly what Korah himself desired ā to “set himself above” the congregation.
What made Korah’s rebellion particularly insidious was its coalition structure. The rebels came from three completely different groups with entirely different grievances. Korah, from the priestly tribe of Levi, wanted to become High Priest himself, seeking to overthrow Aaron from the most sacred position in Israel. Dathan and Abiram came from the tribe of Reuben ā descendants of Jacob’s eldest son who traditionally should have held leadership as the firstborn, but had been passed over. The 250 tribal leaders were themselves firstborn sons from their respective families who had lost their ritual privileges after the Golden Calf incident, when the role of the firstborn was transferred to the Levites.
These three groups had three different complaints and came from different backgrounds, yet they found each other in their shared resentment. Korah wanted religious power, the Reubenites wanted political recognition of their birthright status, and the 250 leaders wanted their lost ceremonial roles restored. They had nothing in common except one thing ā they all wanted power, and they all hated Moses.
This same dynamic plays out today in the international campaign against Israel. Sacks noted how “for many centuries various empires accused Jews of wanting to dominate the world,” when in fact “Jews have never wanted to dominate the world… The people who levelled this accusation against Jews belonged to empires which were beginning to crumble. They wanted to dominate the world but knew they could not, so they attributed their desire to Jews.”
Today’s anti-Israel coalition follows the identical pattern. Iran’s ayatollahs denounce Israel as a ‘cancerous tumor’ while running their own oppressive theocracy. Hamas claims to fight “occupation” while openly calling for Israel’s annihilation. European progressives who champion women’s rights and LGBTQ+ causes ally with movements that criminalize homosexuality. American students who demand “decolonization” support the very colonizing powers that have conquered and occupied Middle Eastern lands for centuries.
Like Korah’s rebels, they’re not united by shared values or a positive vision ā they’re united by shared resentment. When your goal is destroying something rather than building something, the strangest alliances become possible. The Korah phenomenon reveals an uncomfortable truth: the most dangerous coalitions often form not around what people believe in, but around what they hate.
For each of us, this ancient story offers a powerful mirror. When we find ourselves joining movements or causes, we should ask: Are we uniting around positive principles and genuine solutions, or are we simply bonding over shared grievances and common enemies? Are we seeking truth and justice, or just the satisfaction of seeing our opponents defeated? The difference between arguing “for the sake of heaven” and arguing for the sake of power often lies not in our positions, but in our motivations ā and our willingness to honestly examine them.
