Buckle up, because this story from Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, is a wild ride.
So, picture this: It’s the evening of the second day after the… ahem… agreement between Jacob's sons and the people of Shechem. You remember the agreement, right? The one where all the men of Shechem would be circumcised in order to marry Jacob's daughters. Tricky business, that. Shechem and his father, Hamor, decide to send messengers to gather up eight little boys. See, some mothers, understandably freaked out by the whole mass circumcision thing, had hidden their kids.
But here's where things go sideways, and fast.
Enter Haddakum and his six brothers. These guys? They are not happy. Not one bit. They leap out, ready to take down the messengers. And not just the messengers, mind you. They’re aiming for Shechem himself, his father Hamor, and even Dinah! Talk about sibling loyalty!
Why all the rage? Well, Haddakum and his brothers have some very pointed questions for Shechem and Hamor. "Why are you doing something our fathers never did?" they demand. "This is going to make all the Canaanites furious! And the children of Ham too! All this for a Hebrew woman?!"
They're not just worried about the pain, you see. They're worried about the political implications, the potential for war, the disruption of the established order. It's a mess, and they see Shechem's impulsive act as a threat to their entire society.
And then comes the kicker. Haddakum and his brothers finish their rant with a chilling promise: "Behold, tomorrow we will go and assemble our Canaanitish brethren, and we will come and smite you and all in whom you trust, that there shall not be a remnant left of you or them."
Yikes.
So, what do we take away from this little snippet? It’s a reminder that even seemingly simple actions can have huge, unforeseen consequences. Shechem's desire for Dinah, and the subsequent agreement about circumcision, spirals into a potential inter-tribal conflict.
More than that, it's a story about the clash between tradition and desire, between individual impulse and communal well-being. Haddakum and his brothers represent the established order, the fear of change, the potential cost of disrupting the status quo. It makes you wonder, doesn’t it? How often do we react out of fear of the unknown, even when change might ultimately be necessary? Food for thought, indeed.