As late as the 18th century, taxes in much of Europe were often paid in the form of labor, known as corvée. Ziony Zevit argues that this was the form of bondage Egypt imposed on the Israelites, as described in the opening chapter of the book of Exodus, read in synagogues tomorrow. He finds evidence, inter alia, in the statement that the Egyptians placed over the Israelites “taskmasters [literally officials of missim] to afflict them with their burdens.”

Throughout the ancient world, farmers working the lands would be taxed by representatives of central authorities (kings or deities) who were considered the actual owners. These taxes were rendered by delivering livestock, or agricultural produce, and/or through the performance of corvée labor, which could involve fieldwork, dredging canals, or work on construction projects. Hebrew mas (plural missim) is connected to this latter form of taxation. Mas refers to a unit of laborers drafted for corvée service and is a cognate of Akkadian massu.

With this in mind, Zevit proposes a novel reading of the verse that sets up the story of Egyptian bondage: “Now there arose up a new king over Egypt, which knew not Joseph.”

The most common interpretations of the phrase are that the king did not have a personal relationship with Joseph, that he was not aware of what Joseph did [for his predecessor during the famine], or that he did not feel especially grateful for it. Yet, I suggest that the phrase is not about a state of knowledge. It is rather about not recognizing, i.e., honoring, Joseph’s blanket support of his brothers and their descendants as [described] toward the end of Genesis. This special recognition included the right to provisions from official food storage facilities, which Joseph first offers his family upon their reconciliation.

On Tuesday, representatives of Hamas met with their counterparts from Fatah—the faction of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) once led by Yasir Arafat that now governs parts of the West Bank—in Beijing to discuss possible reconciliation. While it is unlikely that these talks will yield any more progress than the many previous rounds, they constitute a significant step in China’s increasing attempts to involve itself in the Middle East on the side of Israel’s enemies.

By contrast, writes Tuvia Gering, Taiwan has been quick and consistent in its condemnations of Hamas and Iran and its expressions of sympathy with Israel:

Support from Taipei goes beyond words. Taiwan’s appointee in Tel Aviv and de-facto ambassador, Abby Lee, has been busy aiding hostage families, adopting the most affected kibbutzim in southern Israel, and volunteering with farmers. Taiwan recently pledged more than half a million dollars to Israel for critical initiatives, including medical and communications supplies for local municipalities. This follows earlier aid from Taiwan to an organization helping Israeli soldiers and families immediately after the October 7 attack.

The reasons why are not hard to fathom:

In many ways, Taiwan sees a reflection of itself in Israel—two vibrant democracies facing threats from hostile neighbors. Both nations wield substantial economic and technological prowess, and both heavily depend on U.S. military exports and diplomacy. Taipei also sees Israel as a “role model” for what Taiwan should aspire to be, citing its unwavering determination and capabilities to defend itself.

On a deeper level, Taiwanese leaders seem to view Israel’s war with Hamas and Iran as an extension of a greater struggle between democracy and autocracy.

Gering urges Israel to reciprocate these expressions of friendship and to take into account that “China has been going above and beyond to demonize the Jewish state in international forums.” Above all, he writes, Jerusalem should “take a firmer stance against China’s support for Hamas and Iran-backed terrorism, exposing the hypocrisy and repression that underpin its vision for a new global order.”