Our Gemara on Amud Beis discusses a principle regarding halachic agency. While one may appoint an agent to act on their behalf in legal matters, such as purchases, the agency remains valid only if the agent performs as directed. If the agent deviates significantly from their instructions, the transaction is nullified.

The Sefer Kevodah Shel Torah frequently uses halachic principles to illuminate or expand upon biblical narratives. In Bereishis (47:20), the Torah describes Yosef’s acquisition and transfer of land from the Egyptian people to Pharaoh during the seven years of famine:

So Joseph gained possession of all the farmland of Egypt for Pharaoh, all the Egyptians having sold their fields because the famine was too much for them; thus the land passed over to Pharaoh.

The verse contains an extra emphasis on the word “their” in the phrase “sold their fields.” This seems unnecessary—why would the Egyptians sell anyone else’s fields? The Sefer Kevodah Shel Torah explains this detail using two halachic principles. Generally, the sale of an item at a grossly inflated price (more than one-sixth above market value) is void. However, this rule does not apply to real estate; such sales are valid no matter the overcharge (Bava Metzia 108a). An exception exists, however, if an agent overpays for property on behalf of another. In such cases, the sale is invalid because the agent acted outside their instructions.

Thus, the verse emphasizes that the Egyptians sold their fields directly, not through agents. This ensured they could not later claim they were exploited or that their agents overpaid due to the desperation caused by the famine. Since the land transactions were handled personally, the Egyptians had no recourse to invalidate the sales.

The biblical narrative continues, describing how the Egyptians eventually sold everything they owned, including themselves, to Pharaoh. The Sefer Kevodah Shel Torah assumes that Yosef imposed steep prices for food, leading to this outcome. Why, then, was Yosef engaging in such practices? Why would the government exploit its citizens so harshly? Even if one argues that self-reliance and effort were encouraged by avoiding handouts, was it necessary to bankrupt the population?

Rashi (Bereishis 41:55), quoting a Midrash, notes that Yosef also required the Egyptians to circumcise themselves in exchange for food. Of all possible demands, why circumcision? One could argue this was a symbolic covenant, a way for the Egyptians to demonstrate loyalty, borrowing the concept of the bris from Yosef’s own covenant. However, this explanation feels unsatisfactory, as it risks trivializing the profound spiritual significance of the bris milah. If Yosef utilized circumcision, it likely carried moral and spiritual implications. Perhaps Yosef, seeing himself as a benign ruler, sought to reform the Egyptians’ morally corrupt society (Vayikra 18:3 describes Egyptian practices as sexually immoral). He may have viewed this as an opportunity to impose a new moral structure and promote ethical evolution.

This interpretation gains depth when viewed alongside historical accounts of Pharaoh Akhenaten, who led a radical cultural and religious revolution. During his reign, Akhenaten outlawed traditional Egyptian gods and centralized worship exclusively around Aten, the sun disk. He moved the capital city and enforced strict religious ordinances. However, after his death, Egypt reverted to its previous practices and capital city, indicating that Akhenaten’s reforms failed to penetrate the deeper cultural fabric. (See Mark Damen’s exploration of Akhenaten.)

This parallel suggests that Yosef—or the Pharaoh of the biblical narrative—may have been connected to Akhenaten’s monotheistic efforts. If so, the coercive land acquisitions and circumcision requirements might be understood in a practical light. Though harsh, Yosef could have seen himself as God’s emissary, tasked with elevating Egyptian society.

From the Torah’s perspective, the famine’s primary role was to facilitate Yosef’s rise to power and bring Yaakov’s family to Egypt. However, what if the famine had a broader divine purpose? Why did the Egyptians merit the seven years of plenty and advanced warning of the famine? Perhaps God extended an invitation for repentance and moral refinement to the Egyptians as well. This raises the possibility that Yosef’s harsh policies were part of a divine plan, intended not only to sustain the world during the famine but also to offer the Egyptians an opportunity for spiritual growth.

Translations Courtesy of Sefaria, except when, sometimes, I disagree with the translation

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