When Alexander of Macedon conquered Egypt, a delegation of Egyptian nobles came before him with a centuries-old complaint against the Jews. They pointed to the book of Exodus itself — Chapter 12, verse 36 — where the Israelites, leaving Egypt, "borrowed of the Egyptians jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment."
The Egyptians called it theft. They wanted restitution. And they wanted the conqueror of the world to rule in their favor.
The Jewish Advocate
Gabiha ben Pesisa, a humble sage, offered to represent the Jewish people. The Sanhedrin hesitated — he was not trained in rhetoric, and the stakes were existential — but Gabiha insisted. "If I lose, you can say it was a simple man who argued poorly. If I win, no one can say you won by legal tricks."
He appeared before Alexander and listened to the Egyptian claim. Then he stood and said something nobody expected.
The Counterclaim
"Our ancestors worked as slaves in your land for hundreds of years. Genesis 15:13 says it was to be four hundred years, and the slavery of Exodus was the fulfillment. Have you paid them? Have you given wages to the six hundred thousand men who built your cities Pithom and Raamses? Let us calculate the back wages for every Israelite for every day he worked, at the going rate for an Egyptian laborer. We will deduct the cost of the silver and gold we carried out. Whoever owes the other, let him pay."
He paused.
"And there is more. We also claim recompense for every male Hebrew child drowned in the Nile at Pharaoh's decree" (Exodus 1:22).
The Egyptians went silent. Alexander dismissed the case. The Jews had not stolen the silver of Egypt. They had been given a partial, belated, deeply incomplete wage.
Gaster preserved this exempla from Sanhedrin 91a as a reminder that justice, in a Jewish reading, does not begin with the last accusation. It begins with the first unpaid day.