Yesterday, as expected, President Bush vetoed the Intelligence Authorization Act, which would have restricted the CIA to interrogation methods found in the Military Field Manual and outlawed without exception the use of waterboarding and other harsh interrogation techniques. In his weekly radio address, the President defended his decision as a matter of national security, saying “We have no higher responsibility than stopping terrorist attacks. And this is no time for Congress to abandon practices that have a proven track record of keeping America safe.”

Let us leave aside for a moment the question of whether in fact these methods have kept us safer, kept our troops safer, or actually prevented any terrorist attack. President Bush has once again invoked the threat of terrorism, the memory of 9/11, to justify broadening the power of the Executive Branch. He uses the fear of the extraordinary, one of the most terrible days in our nation’s history, to justify an approach to security based on revenge and fear. Any form of interrogation, no matter how horrific, becomes acceptable at any point in time if it could potentially keep us safe.

This coming Shabbat is Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat before Purim when we read in synagogue the confusing injunction to both remember what Amalek did, how they attacked the weak and the defenseless part of the Israelite camp, and also to blot out their name and memory. Often people focus on the inherent contradiction in this statement: how can you blot out Amalek’s name and remember what happened?

This year what struck me was how unusual this commandment is as a way of dealing with Israel’s enemies. After all, the Israelites were enslaved in Egypt for 400 years. Shouldn’t God be asking us to take revenge on the Egyptians? But instead, the Torah uses the slavery experience as a basis for compassion when dealing with others: “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the heart of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 23:9) Even after hundreds of years of oppression, the lesson of Egypt is to be a force for justice and to hear the cry of the weak. It is to be the opposite of our oppressors and not their mirror image.

The commandment to destroy and blot out Amalek (reinforced in this Shabbat’s haftorah) is the exception when dealing with our enemies, and not the rule. One should be careful in labeling one’s enemies “Amalek” — this is part of what we must remember for generations. Amalek’s attack on the weak and defenseless was a frightening moment—but it was exceptional. We remember what Amalek did along with our own response so that we understand that such a response must be reserved for the extraordinary. If our default position becomes to react as though to Amalek and not as though to Egypt, we have begun to forget.

In vetoing the Intelligence Authorization Act and justifying it in the name of national security, President Bush is once again crying “Amalek.” In the name of keeping us safe, he tries to make measures that are probably not even effective in the case of the extraordinary acceptable for the ordinary. As we try to decide what values will guide us in responding to those who want to attack the United States and harm Americans, we have a choice: to continually use the extraordinary response to Amalek or to use the lesson of response and restraint we learned as slaves in Egypt. On this Shabbat Zachor, let us remember what the Torah expects to be our normative choice. Let us not become the mirror image of those who seek to harm us. Instead, let us pursue justice and peace, and remember.