We all know the story of Pharaoh, the archetypal oppressor of the Israelites. But Shemot Rabbah delves into the why behind his horrific decree to cast newborn sons into the Nile (Exodus 1:22). According to Rabbi Yosei ben Rabbi Ḥanina, Pharaoh didn't just target Israelite babies; he issued the decree against his own people too!

Why would he do such a thing? It's a wild tale. The text tells us that Pharaoh's astrologers had foreseen the birth of Israel's redeemer. The problem? They couldn't pinpoint whether this savior would be Israelite or Egyptian. So, in a move of utter desperation, Pharaoh gathered all the Egyptians and essentially said, "Lend me your sons for the next nine months so I can throw them into the Nile!"

Now, you might be thinking, “Wait, what? Why the Nile?” Well, the Egyptians believed the Nile was a deity, a god that would reward those who worshipped it. Pharaoh thought he could appease the Nile and prevent the redeemer's birth (as the text says, “Every son that is born, [you shall cast him] into the Nile.” It doesn't say “every Israelite son,” but “every son”). But the Egyptians weren't buying it. They argued that a redeemer for the Hebrews would only come from Hebrew women.

This is where it gets even more interesting. Why did the astrologers foresee death by water? They believed the redeemer of Israel would be condemned by means of water, so they figured drowning him in the Nile was the answer. Ironically, Shemot Rabbah points out, the actual "water" that led to a decree against Moses wasn't the Nile at all, but the waters of Mei Meribah, the "waters of dispute" (Numbers 20:12–13), where Moses struck the rock and failed to sanctify God's name.

The Rabbis even suggest that the astrologers devised this plan to avoid divine retribution by water. They figured God wouldn't send another flood, so drowning was the safest way to go!

And what about the daughters? "Every daughter you shall keep alive" (Exodus 1:22). Why? The Egyptians, we're told, planned to kill the sons and take the daughters as wives, driven by, as the text delicately puts it, "lewdness."

So, what do we take away from this midrashic exploration? It's a story about fear, about the lengths people will go to maintain power, and about the twisted logic they'll employ to justify their actions. It's also a reminder that even when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, hope—and ultimately, redemption—can still emerge from the depths. It makes you wonder what "Nile" we're throwing our fears into today, and what daughters are being kept alive for all the wrong reasons.