The current divide in America is strange and disorienting. On the one hand, we’ve seen a level of friendship from President Trump that is unprecedented in modern history. His support for Israel—militarily, diplomatically, and morally—has been unwavering, and for that, we are deeply grateful. On the other hand, the venom directed at Israel from both the progressive left and the so-called ‘woke right’ has become increasingly vile. These forces, united by little else, did everything they could to stop Trump from standing with Israel—and seemed unbothered by the real possibility that Iran would carry out a second Holocaust against the Jewish people.
Watching all of this unfold from Israel is unsettling. Is America a friend or foe? President Trump has a stronger backbone than almost any President in modern memory. He stood with Israel, unwavering, in the face of immense pressure. But what happens when he’s gone? Where does America actually stand? Will the American people stand with Israel in the years ahead?
When Jacob returned to the Land of Israel after twenty years with his father-in-law Laban, he was filled with dread about his impending encounter with his twin brother, Esau, whom he had deceived to obtain the covenantal blessing. That fear only grew when Jacob learned that Esau was approaching with four hundred men—an armed force.
And yet, the meeting seemed unexpectedly warm.
But the Hebrew text contains a mysterious feature. In the original Hebrew text, above each letter of the word vayishakeihu, “and he kissed him,” there are mysterious dots—an exceedingly rare phenomenon in the Bible. What do these dots mean?
The Sages were divided. Some say the dots are there to signal Esau’s sincerity in that moment. As Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar teaches: “It teaches that he had compassion for him and kissed him with all his heart.” But Rabbi Yannai disagreed: “If so, why the dots? It teaches that he wanted to bite him, but Jacob’s neck turned to marble and Esau’s teeth were blunted.” In Hebrew, the word for “kiss,” nashak, is nearly identical to nashakh, the Hebrew word for “bite.”
Esau’s kiss, then, may have been something far more dangerous. A kiss with clenched teeth. A hug masking a desire to kill. An outward gesture of brotherhood concealing inner hatred. As James Earl Jones famously put it in Coming to America: “There is a fine line between love and nausea.”
What are the Sages really warning us about in this cryptic and disturbing image of Esau’s kiss?
Esau represents the Western world. The Sages identify him as the progenitor of Edom, the ancestor of Rome. It was Rome that destroyed Jerusalem, burned the Temple, and launched two thousand years of exile. It was Rome that morphed into the modern West, a civilization that often professed love for the Hebrew Bible while persecuting those who lived by it.
And yet—Esau is not entirely evil. The Sages teach: “Why is Esau called a chazir (pig)? Because he is destined lehachzir (to return) the crown to Israel.” In other words, Esau, for all his violence and duplicity, will one day assist in restoring Israel’s greatness. Lord Balfour, the righteous Gentiles who defied Hitler, President Truman who recognized Israel’s rebirth in 1948, President Trump with the Abraham Accords—these are also Esau’s descendants. This is the ambivalence of Esau.
But is that how the story ends? Is this how the relationship between Esau and Jacob—between the West and Israel—is destined to remain? One part friendship, one part betrayal?
The answer lies not in the kiss, but in the fight that preceded it.
The night before his meeting with Esau, Jacob was left alone. There, in the darkness, he was attacked by a mysterious figure whom the Bible identifies only as “a man” (Genesis 32:25). But the Sages are clear: this was the sar shel Esav — the spiritual angel, the guardian force of Esau.
The two wrestled until daybreak. Jacob held on and, finally gaining the upper hand, said to the angel: “I will not let you go, unless you bless me” (Genesis 32:27). His opponent relented.
Jacob’s struggle and ultimate victory is not merely history. It is the archetype of Israel’s long-term struggle with the West. And just as the dynamic shifted when Jacob returned to the land of his fathers and stood his ground, so too the Jewish people have only begun to reverse Esau’s ambivalence with our return to our homeland. For two thousand years, we were powerless and despised. No one blessed us. But now we are home—and fighting for it. Only now is the tide beginning to turn.
This is the reality playing out before our eyes. After millennia of ambivalence from Esau—one moment offering support, the next working to undermine us—the modern people of Israel are prevailing. Like Jacob wrestling the angel through the night, Israel has struggled through the long darkness of exile, war, terror, and global condemnation. But now, with each military victory, diplomatic breakthrough, and firm stance on our land and identity, we are turning the tide. Just as Jacob ultimately defeated the angel and demanded a blessing, Israel today is forcing the nations to drop the mask of neutrality. The ambivalence will end. Esau will have to choose. And when faced with Israel’s undeniable strength and permanence, he will have no choice but to bless.
For decades, the Western world — America included — tried to hold Israel back. We were told not to defend ourselves too strongly, not to reclaim Judea and Samaria, not to build in our eternal capital. We were kissed—and bitten.
But the tide is shifting. Jacob is demanding the blessing.
The Jewish people have returned home. We are not leaving. We are no longer waiting for permission. We have crushed our enemies, from Hamas and Hezbollah to the Houthis and Iran. And the more we stand firm, the more we expose Esau’s ambivalence. Some in the West are clenching their teeth harder than ever. But others are beginning to bless.
Yes, there is still venom. The media. The Democratic Party. The “conservative” pundits who love Israel until we actually act like a sovereign nation. But their outrage is increasingly performative. Israel is winning. And when Jacob wins, Esau has no choice but to acknowledge him.
The day is coming—and it’s coming soon—when the West will no longer pretend to be neutral. The mask of ambivalence will fall away. Soon enough, Esau will no longer bite while he kisses. He will no longer pretend to be a moral judge. He will look at Jacob standing tall in the land of his fathers, and he will bless him. Not because he wants to – but because he has to.
