Handshakes or Arm Wrestles

How the haftarah of Ovadiah reveals Yaakov’s ultimate victory—handshakes, arm wrestles, and all. Print and enjoy over Shabbos.

Have you ever seen Donald Trump’s famous handshake? His bold grip, paired with a confident yank forward, makes it more than just a greeting. It’s a statement—a physical manifestation of strength, assertiveness, and the determination to take charge. For Trump, the handshake isn’t merely a pleasantry; it’s the opening move in a strategic dance, where every gesture signals intent and power. Many heads of state prepare for this handshake and try to control it—sometimes successfully, but usually not.

This power struggle comes to mind when thinking about the multifaceted struggle between Yaakov and Esav. It began when Yaakov dressed in Esav’s clothing to receive the berachah from their father, Yitzchak. It’s the age-old struggle of Yaakov trying to reclaim his hands.

We see this clearly when Yaakov encounters the Angel of Esav, and their meeting turns into a wrestling match. Yet, Esav and Yaakov also attempt to shake hands on a deal for peace. This is a struggle of duality—of connection (the handshake) and confrontation (the arm wrestle).

This struggle is at the heart of the haftarah for Parashas Vayishlach, which focuses on the ultimate fall of Esav and its deeper implications.

The haftarah we read each week is rooted in an ancient minhag established during times when we, as Jews, were forbidden to publicly read from the Torah due to antisemitic persecution. In place of the Torah reading, a section from the Nevi’im—known as the haftarah—was chosen, typically aligning with the themes of the parashah. Occasionally, the selection reflects the time of year, such as a fast day or Erev Rosh Chodesh.

It is fascinating, then, that the haftarah for Parashas Vayishlach is drawn from the nevuah of Ovadiah. Remarkably, this selection encompasses the entire sefer, as Ovadiah is a single chapter. Ovadiah’s nevuah centers on the downfall of Esav and Edom. On one hand, it is surprising that such a provocative section would be chosen during times when we sought to avoid persecution. On the other hand, given the parashah’s focus on Yaakov and Esav, there could hardly be a more fitting choice than a nevuah about Esav’s ultimate downfall.

To understand the nevuah of Ovadiah, it is important to first understand who Ovadiah was.

The pesukim do not specify who Ovadiah was or the exact generation in which he lived, but Chazal teach us that he was an Edomite convert who lived during the time of Achav. Ovadiah courageously protected the nevi’im from Ezebel's persecution, earning him a place as a righteous figure. This background makes him uniquely suited to prophesize the downfall of Edom, his own ancestral nation.

The overarching theme of this nevuah is the future destruction of Edom. Ovadiah explains how Edom, which began as a small nation, rose to become rulers of the world. However, in the days of the ingathering of the exiles, Edom will be completely and utterly destroyed. This destruction is a consequence of its wickedness toward Israel: standing by silently while the Babylonians destroyed the Mikdash and slaughtered much of our people, actively participating in the Second Temple’s destruction, and instituting cruel decrees against the Jewish people throughout their rule in exile.

When Esav married women from Canaan and subsequently moved away from Yaakov, he severed his connection to his brotherhood with Yaakov and became Edom—a separate and independent nation. Edom completely estranged itself from Yaakov, refusing to understand us and instead becoming our arch-nemesis. This was rooted in Esav’s refusal to make peace with the fact that his younger brother was far greater than he was. Rather than accept his role and the blessing given to Yaakov, Esav chose rivalry and resistance, setting the stage for millennia of conflict.

There are two approaches to understanding Ovadiah that I would like to focus on: the historical approach of Don Yitzchak Abravanel and the mystical approach of Rav Moshe Dovid Vali.

Abravanel offers a historical and geopolitical framework. He explains Edom’s evolution from a small tribal nation near Eilat to its eventual rise as Rome and The Holy Roman Empire. Geographically, Mount Edom is located in modern-day Jordan, between the Negev Desert and Petra near the Gulf of Aqaba. However, this region was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar II in 587/86 BCE. (Petra, originally called Batzra, was the capital of Edom, though the name evolved to Petra over the millennia.) After the destruction of Mount Edom by Nebuchadnezzar, Edom’s center shifted to the Chevron area and later to Rome. From there, Edom’s influence spread, and under Titus, it was united as a single force. Over time, however, it divided into two main factions: followers of Christianity and followers of Islam. Despite this split, Abravanel explains that both stem from the same root—Edom in Rome, which ultimately originates from Mount Edom.

Abravanel ties Ovadiah’s nevuah to specific historical events, such as the Roman destruction of the Second Temple and future conflicts between Christian and Muslim powers over Jerusalem. Among these nations, Abravanel specifically mentions Turkey as playing a role in this conflict. He describes how Muslim forces will rise to defend their claims to Jerusalem and retaliate against the Christians for their conquests in Egypt and the Holy Land. (Interestingly, other meforshim explain that this battle will take place at the end of days, when there will be no survivors from Esav.) Abravanel connects these events to Ovadiah’s nevuah, which foretells the ultimate downfall of Edom and the judgment that will follow its actions throughout history.

While agreeing with the overall assertion that Edom’s arrogance and betrayal of the Jewish people will lead to its destruction, Rav Moshe Dovid Vali explains that Edom’s downfall is a spiritual process where holiness triumphs over impurity. Edom represents the forces of impurity that consume sparks of holiness, but in the end, those sparks are reclaimed by Yaakov. This transformation is part of the ultimate redemption.

Even the good within Esav, which has been trapped in impurity, will be brought back into holiness. When Yaakov finally reclaims his “hands” — fully stepping into his rightful spiritual role — Esav will no longer fight against Yaakov. Instead, he will accept Yaakov’s place and find peace with it. This complete reclamation will leave Edom with nothing, ensuring that holiness and unity can fully shine. It is a key step in bringing the world to the point where Hashem’s glory fills everything.

Aharon HaKohen is buried in Petra, right in the heart of Edom’s territory. This detail carries a powerful message: Aharon, as Moshe’s older brother, accepted his role with peace and humility, even when it meant stepping back to let Moshe lead. His burial there serves as a reminder to Esav of what could have been. Esav, as Yaakov’s older brother, had the opportunity to embrace his role and live in harmony with Yaakov. Instead, he chose rivalry and resistance. Aharon’s presence in Petra stands as a quiet yet firm rebuke, showing that being an older brother doesn’t have to mean conflict—it can mean support and partnership.

Now, what does this mean for us?

Trump’s dynamic handshake—beginning with a gesture of connection but quickly turning into a subtle test of strength—offers a modern analogy for the relationship between Yaakov and Esav. At first glance, their interactions might suggest partnership, but with Esav, these moments often shift into deeper struggles for dominance.

The struggle between Yaakov and Esav isn’t just historical—it’s personal. Within each of us exists a mix of Yaakov and Esav. The kol Yaakov (the voice of Yaakov) represents our spiritual essence—our higher aspirations and connection to holiness. The yadayim yedei Esav (the hands of Esav) symbolize our physicality, our drive to act, and at times, the temptations or distractions that pull us away from our purpose.

But what do we do with these "hands of Esav"? Can they serve a purpose, or must they be eradicated entirely?

The Torah reminds us that beneath the handshake lies a challenge—a need for Yaakov to channel that interaction toward holiness and emerge victorious.

Sometimes, those "hands" can be tools for good. Our ability to engage with the physical world—to build, to provide, to create—is essential. But these actions must always be guided by the voice of Yaakov, ensuring they align with our spiritual mission. When the hands of Esav operate without Yaakov’s voice, they lead to arrogance, selfishness, and destruction.

Rav Hirsch writes: Esav, too, will gradually lay down his sword; more and more, he will make room for humaneness. Yaakov will be the one to provide him with the opportunity of showing to what extent the principle of humaneness has prevailed in his heart. When the strong respects the rights of the strong, this is merely discretion. But when the strong, as Esav here, throws himself on the shoulders of the weak and casts away the sword of aggression—only then does it become clear that justice and humaneness have prevailed in his heart.¹

The ultimate goal, as Ovadiah teaches, is not just to subdue Esav but to transform and reclaim him for holiness. This means channeling our physical drives and strengths to serve a higher purpose, while working to eradicate the negative traits that Esav represents—arrogance, cruelty, and a focus on materialism over meaning.

Our ultimate goal is for Yaakov to become whole—shalem—fully reclaiming both his voice and his hands. When this happens, Yaakov will no longer depend on the hands of Esav, as his own hands will align with his spiritual mission. This is the vision of Ovadiah: a world where holiness reigns, Hashem’s unity is revealed, and Yaakov’s strength is complete.

1. Bereishis 33:4