PLAGUE OF DARKNESS IN MODERN IRAN AND ANCIENT EGYPT

Thick Darkness over Egypt; Light in Goshen!

PLAGUE OF DARKNESS IN MODERN IRAN AND ANCIENT EGYPT

By: Rabbi Tuly Weisz

For nearly a month, brave protesters in Iran have been risking their lives to bring down the evil Ayatollah Khamenei. The regime is using brutal violence to quell the protests, killing thousands of innocents and keeping civilians in the dark—literally. To minimize news of the mass slaughter and prevent citizens from communicating with each other, the regime has ordered an internet blackout. For weeks, connectivity has dropped to just 2% of normal levels, and only thanks to Elon Musk’s Starlink satellites are there pockets of light flickering through the darkness.

This week, as Iran’s people suffer under their tyrant’s imposed darkness, we read Parshat Bo and encounter one of the most mysterious plagues to strike ancient Egypt: choshech, the plague of darkness. But this was no ordinary darkness. When God commands Moses to bring this plague upon Egypt, the Torah uses a startling phrase:

“Then Hashem said to Moshe, “Hold out your arm toward the sky that there may be darkness upon the land of Egypt, a darkness that can be touched” (Exodus 10:21)

“Vayamesh choshech“—”a darkness that can be touched.” The great commentator Rashi explains that this darkness had physical substance, so thick it could be felt.

The Bible tells us something even more chilling:

“People could not see one another, and for three days no one could get up from where he was; but all the Israelites enjoyed light in their dwellings” (Exodus 10:23)

But notice what the Torah emphasizes: “lo ra’u ish et achiv“—”People could not see one another.” Why does the Bible stress this detail? Surely if you’re plunged into pitch blackness, you can’t see anyone. The answer is profound.

This plague wasn’t just about physical darkness—it was about isolation, about the breakdown of human connection and community. 

Each Egyptian suffered alone, unable to reach out, unable to communicate, unable to see their neighbor’s suffering or offer comfort. The darkness created a nation of individuals trapped in solitary confinement.

Sound familiar? The parallels to Iran today are haunting. Over 18,000 protesters arrested. Thousands killed. A near-total communications blackout leaving 85 million people isolated and alone. Families unable to know if their loved ones are alive or dead. The regime has imposed not just political tyranny but the very plague of Egypt—a tangible darkness designed to paralyze, isolate, and crush the human spirit.

Yet the Torah gives us hope. Immediately after describing Egypt’s paralyzing darkness, we read: “U’l’chol b’nei Yisrael hayah or b’moshvotam“—”But all the Israelites enjoyed light in their dwellings” (Exodus 10:23).

The Israelites possessed an internal light that no tyrant could extinguish. And this teaches us something essential: true light comes from within. The Egyptians had lost their ability to see one another, to care for their neighbor, to rise up against injustice. But the Israelites maintained their vision, their connection, their moral clarity—even in the darkest moments of slavery.

The same is true in Iran today. Despite the regime’s best efforts to impose darkness, the Iranian people’s inner light refuses to be extinguished. They wave the Lion and Sun flag of freedom. They chant for liberty in the streets. They risk everything to see their neighbors, to stand with their community, to rise up against tyranny. The ayatollahs can cut the electricity and the internet, but they cannot cut the human spirit’s connection to truth and justice.

As I discuss extensively in my book, “Universal Zionism”, the Bible uses the journey from darkness to light not only to describe freedom from tyranny but as a model for humanity’s ultimate destination. The prophets describe the Messianic Era as a gradual transition from subservience to man toward obedience to God, from moral confusion to moral clarity—from darkness to light, unfolding kimah kimah, slowly, slowly.

Personally, I experienced this truth powerfully during my first years living with my family in Israel. My two oldest daughters wanted to watch the sun rise over the Sea of Galilee, so one spring morning during Passover, we hiked up Mount Arbel in pre-dawn darkness. The climb was steep and challenging in the blackness. But then, slowly, the first rays appeared over the eastern horizon. The mountains of Jordan emerged as silhouettes and the Golan Heights took shape. As the sun crept higher, its rays sparkled across the waters, transforming the entire landscape into brilliant clarity.

Standing there with my daughters, I remembered that at this very spot, two great first-century sages—Rabbi Yehoshua and Rabbi Eliezer—had debated the nature of redemption as recorded in a famous story in the Talmud. Would it come suddenly, like lightning splitting the sky, or gradually, like the dawn? Rabbi Yehoshua declared: “Just as the light of dawn appears over the valley of Arbel slowly, slowly—kimah kimah—so too will Israel’s redemption unfold slowly, slowly.”

Watching this ancient metaphor come alive before our eyes, it hit me: The return of the Jewish people to our land, the rebuilding of our homeland, the ingathering of exiles—all of this has been unfolding in Israel kimah kimah, exactly as prophesied. And standing there on Mount Arbel with my daughters, I realized that the future of Israel and the Nations would unfold the same way.

More and more people around the world would open their eyes to what we could already see from that mountaintop—that Israel’s light is meant to illuminate not just the Jewish people, but all of humanity.

The plague of darkness always precedes the Exodus. Pharaoh’s regime fell, and the ayatollahs’ regime will fall too, b’ezrat Hashem, God willing.

May the brave Iranian people find strength in knowing that darkness, no matter how thick or tangible, cannot last forever. May they be blessed with the courage to continue rising up, to continue seeing one another, to continue standing together until the dawn breaks.

And may we all merit to witness the light of freedom spreading from Jerusalem to Tehran and beyond, as the prophet Isaiah foretold: “Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance” (Isaiah 60:3).

Kimah kimah. Slowly, slowly, the light is breaking through.