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When the King’s Soldiers Arrive

by Ram ben Ze’ev



When the King’s Soldiers Arrive
When the King’s Soldiers Arrive

A king once sent his army to a distant village. The soldiers wore the king’s uniform, bore his insignia, and carried his authority. Yet their message was strange: they whispered of revolt. They urged the villagers to turn against the very king whose banner they carried.


The villagers were loyal. Some drew their swords and fought. Some prevailed. Others stumbled, regrouped, and fought again. Day after day, skirmish after skirmish. They proved their loyalty through struggle.


What they did not know was that the soldiers themselves were loyal to the king. They had been sent as a test.


Those villagers who fought bravely were indeed faithful. Their loyalty was real. But because they responded with battle, the test continued. Each victory was followed by another confrontation. Their days became a cycle of defence and resistance.


Now imagine a different response.


When the soldiers arrived and called for rebellion, the villagers did not reach for their weapons. Instead, they stood in the square and proclaimed: “Long live the king.” They sang his praises. They declared their allegiance openly and joyfully. They refused even to entertain the suggestion of revolt.


The soldiers, seeing such clarity, realised the futility of their mission. There was no crack to widen, no doubt to exploit. They departed and reported to the king: “The villagers are loyal beyond question.” And the king did not send further tests.


In both cases, the villagers were loyal. But in one, loyalty was proven through daily battle. In the other, loyalty was revealed through unwavering recognition.


So it is with the yetzer hara.


The יצר הרע (yetzer hara – evil inclination) does not arrive wearing foreign colours. It comes clothed in the garments of life itself. It presents arguments, desires, fears, distractions. It whispers: “Turn, just slightly. Compromise, just this once.”


And we fight. Sometimes we win. Sometimes we fall and rise again. The struggle can feel endless.


Yet everything is from Hashem. The test, the impulse, the circumstance — all are sent by Him.


There is a higher path.


When the yetzer hara approaches, instead of engaging in prolonged internal combat, one can step back and declare: “This too is from Hashem.” One can praise G-D in that very moment. One can refuse to argue, refuse to negotiate, refuse to descend into the arena.


Recognition dissolves confrontation.


When a person truly internalises that there is no force independent of the King, that even the test is His messenger, the yetzer hara loses its leverage. It feeds on concealment and fragmentation. It weakens in the presence of clarity and unity.


This is not passivity. It is allegiance.


To fight daily is honourable. But to stand so firmly in awareness of the King that the test no longer needs to be sent — that is a deeper loyalty.


The question is not whether we are loyal. The question is how we express it.


Do we live in constant battle, or in constant recognition?


The soldiers will come. When they do, we can either draw our swords — or raise our voices in praise.



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