And then, there was this younger brother who thought he was more clever than he and proved it by robbing him of his birthright. That too was unjust. And there was more: the plot contrived by his mother to allow Jacob to garner the blessings that Isaac had meant for him, was that just? And if all that were not enough, when Esau—cheated, robbed Esau—appeared weeping before his old father with a most humble request: to be blessed as well—one blessing, just one, was all he wanted—he was rejected. He did not ask his father to condemn Jacob, he did not demand justice; all he requested was one gesture, one word of tenderness, of consolation. And Isaac refused. The only person who had not conspired against him, who had loved him and wanted his happiness, now abandoned him too. Like the others. And that is when Esau uttered his terrible, desperate cry: Father, have you but one blessing to give? Is all lost forever? Are you repudiating me too, Father? Shall I remain friendless in this life which I endure and which endures me without joy or hope? But Isaac refused to be moved. Too late, he seems to have said, what has been given cannot be taken back; one may not go back on one’s word, no matter how wrong one may have been. Isaac had planned to make his eldest son into a master; now he would be a slave. As a result of a hoax? Yes, as a result of a hoax. You shall live by the sword! said he to his son. Was it advice? Or a premonition? Was he suggesting that in the future he had better defend his rights and interests by force? In any event, it was not a blessing—not for Esau, nor for anyone else.

And yet. Years later, when the two brothers met again—after Peniel—Esau forgot the iniquities and scandals he had suffered and showed himself magnanimous and human; he kissed his brother and wept.

Admittedly, the scene has style. But it is Esau who emerges to better advantage. The Midrash sensed this and tried its best to see that Esau remained the villain. Thus we are told—quite seriously—that when Esau kissed Jacob he meant, in fact, to bite his neck. Only, miraculously, his neck turned to marble; and that, of course, was why he began to weep—in rage and pain. Also: Jacob was protected by invisible angels who prevented Esau from harming him; that was why Esau did not take revenge—he was afraid. In general, he is described as a deceitful, evil and cruel human being. And a hypocrite to boot. We are warned not to trust his beautiful rhetoric or his expressions of charity. Just as Jacob came to symbolize the spirit, Esau came to represent instinct.

Yet in the Biblical text it is Esau, after all, who comes out better. He is described as strong but kind, wounded but tolerant. Not one to hold a grudge. Never mean. Better yet: truthful. More so than his young brother, who deceived him again: I shall visit your home, at Mount Seir, Jacob promised. Nowhere is it recorded that he kept his word or even that he meant to. He simply wanted to get rid of Esau as quickly as possible. And at any cost.