It's unsettling how much the story of Jacob and Esau has in common with the current conflict in Israel between the Israeli and Palestinian people, but then again all long wars between nations are a reflection of this tale. It is both sad and reassuring that the understanding of brother set against brother is as old as any human record. The unfortunate part is that we, as the people of this world, should have moved beyond this by now, but there is an indication of hope in this parsha as well.

Isaac and Rebekah are married for twenty years before they conceive. Rebekah bears twins, Esau and Jacob. Like many elements of the Book of Genesis, this story has counterparts in the stories of other cultures. Twins in stories of antiquity almost always represent opposing forces in a conflict. Two individuals, equal in birth and privilege, embody different ideals and qualities, butting heads or otherwise living in some kind of inequality until they either destroy one another or come to a compromise. In the Greek myth of Castor and Pollux, for example, the former brother is immortal and only finds equality with Pollux when he relinquishes his living eternity for a shared position as the constellation Gemini. The story of Esau and Jacob is less gentle than this before it comes to a resolution in a later parsha.

Esau and Jacob are, like Isaac and Ishmael before them, a contemplation on the question of shared birthright. God's covenant with Abraham is that his lineage will be a nation, but what happens when there are multiple children who can lay claim to the title of patriarch? In this case, Esau is technically the "eldest" because he emerged from his mother's womb first, but before the boys are even born God tells Rebekah that her sons will struggle and one will prevail over the other. The issue of who is first born seems moot, then.

But what does this parsha actually mean to us today? What does it say about the nature of conflict, especially at the national level?

For the answer to this, we need to look at the accompanying story of Isaac and Rebekah digging wells in the land of the Philistines. They dig three wells close to where Abraham dug one of his own. The first two Isaac digs come under contention by his neighbors but the third is maintained in peace. The lesson here is twofold. When brother fights brother, or nation fights nation, peace will come, but it is uncertain how that peace will be achieved. Through enough fighting one side will simply lose and the peace will be the peace of a contender left alone. But peace can also be achieved by the will for peace, the decision to stop fighting instead of being forced to stop by simple attrition.

When Esau and Jacob fight, this is the question they must answer for themselves. Will they achieve peace through destruction or through compromised coexistence? In this particular story, the brothers don't destroy one another, but the one who "wins" doesn't come away unscathed. Jacob claims his new birthright after being emotionally and physically broken down by a crisis of faith. Compromise, the righteous route, requires sacrifice.

In the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, this is the reality as well. Both sides believe they have the right to the land, both believe they are Jacob, and both are correct. The Esau has no recourse but destruction, the Jacob must compromise, there is no other way. The Jacob of any conflict must submit to the necessity of sacrifice, coming away from the fight alive and righteous, but not whole. The land of Israel cannot be taken as a whole, but live on as two limping nations, two Jacobs choosing peaceful coexistence over the ever more tragic destruction of one's brother.