Dreaming of true leaders

The earliest chapters of Jewish history unfold as intimate family stories. Avraham nurtures a household of faith, a small circle that spreads knowledge of Hashem to all who are willing to hear. As a family charged with a historical mission, it requires refinement, and Yishmael is sifted away. 

Yitzchak’s home undergoes a similar winnowing, with Ya’akov chosen to carry the future while Esav steps to the margins of the unfolding story. 

By the third generation, the winnowing has run its course, and the dynamics shift. No longer is the circle of believers confined to a handful of individuals. A larger family begins to take shape, one that will eventually number 70 souls as they descend into Egypt. This small nuclear family has become a clan. 

In this expanded setting, leadership naturally becomes an issue. A small family of three or four doesn’t require formal structure; its intimacy allows decisions to emerge through instinct and emotional familiarity. But as the group grows, coordination becomes more complex, tensions sharpen, and a more defined form of leadership becomes necessary. 

As the family grows into a larger community, several models of leadership begin to appear. 

Role modelling 

Yosef Hatzadik has been kidnapped and sold into slavery in Egypt. As far as he knows, he will never return to his family again. Alone, vulnerable, and seemingly without a future, he suddenly finds himself facing the seductive advances of his master’s wife. Her offer is more than temptation, it’s his imagined path to freedom, influence, and greatness. Yosef has always believed he possesses talent. He dreams of leading his family, and is convinced that he is destined for prominence. Now, in this moment, it appears that everything he once envisioned could be within reach. 

His morals and integrity are challenged. How does he resist an offer that appears to deliver everything he once hoped for, hopes his brothers ridiculed? 

The Midrash teaches that in that charged moment, the image of his father appeared in the window. Gazing at Ya’akov, recalling the moral discipline he had absorbed in his father’s home, Yosef finds the strength to turn away from temptation. 

Whether this vision was a supernatural revelation or a psychological projection of his father is almost beside the point. In either case, the image, real or imagined, anchored him. His father’s presence, and the standards he carried with him, gave Yosef the strength to hold firm in a moment that could have led him astray. 

People move people; ideas alone rarely do. When we face difficult tests, we draw strength not from abstractions but from the flesh-and-blood figures who shaped us. My rebbe, Harav Aharon Lichtenstein, once offered a simple but transformative piece of advice: when confronting a moral or religious challenge, don’t retreat into theoretical categories of right and wrong. In the calm of contemplation, our moral compass is clear. But under pressure, when desire or fear distorts judgement, our clarity becomes muddled. 

In those charged moments, we need role models whose shoes we can step into. The real question becomes: how would someone I admire, a person of unquestioned moral integrity, behave in this situation? Their imagined presence makes the choice more compelling, and it becomes harder to justify a lapse in judgement. 

As Rabbi Lichtenstein spoke, everyone in the room recognised that he was the ideal model of the integrity he was urging upon us. More than once in my own life, when facing a moral or religious crossroads, I have asked myself how Rav Lichtenstein would respond if he were standing where I stand. 

Politicians aren’t always fantastic role models for moral behaviour; they shouldn’t be confused with true leaders. They are elected to make decisions on behalf of the electorate they serve. That’s their role. Too often, we mistake this function for genuine leadership. 

Real leaders are those who become role models, people whose lives we instinctively look to when shaping our own behaviour. And for that role to be meaningful, it must be authentic. Genuine leaders don’t perform morality in public, crafting gestures for applause. Such displays feel artificial and hollow. True leadership flows from quiet strength and consistent integrity, from lives whose authenticity commands respect more powerfully than any speech or position ever could. 

Someone else’s dreams 

But Yosef’s education in leadership wasn’t yet complete. Initially, he dreamed of ascending to prominence. He placed himself at the centre of the family, imagining his influence radiating outward to his brothers. He possessed charisma, and sought to shape their lives. His intentions were sincere; he believed he had been chosen to elevate them through his talents. 

Fast-forward many years, and Yosef is languishing in an Egyptian prison. Two fellow inmates approach him, each troubled by a dream of his own. Yosef enters their dreams and interprets them. Tragically, only one will survive and return to freedom. 

At this stage, Yosef discovers a deeper truth: leadership isn’t about imposing one’s own vision but about enabling others. It’s not about placing yourself at the centre of the story, but about helping others interpret and advance their own dreams. 

Two years later, Yosef is summoned from his prison cell and asked to climb into yet another person’s dreams, this time into the mind and imagination of the King of Egypt. As he successfully interprets Pharaoh’s dreams, he finally attains the impact he once sought. 

In his youth, Yosef believed leadership flowed from charisma and the ability to shape others. He now discovers that leadership has far less to do with influencing people and far more to do with enabling their hopes and aspirations. To accomplish this, a leader must sometimes quiet his own dreams. Yosef never dreams again. His imagination and his heart become fully devoted to advancing the dreams of others. 

Leadership of consequences 

If Yosef learns that leadership means enabling others, Yehuda learns that leadership means assuming responsibility. 

Originally, it was Yehuda who proposed selling Yosef to Egypt, a choice that condemned the family to years of shame and fracture. He believed that leadership rested in authority and decisive action. 

Hard decisions are certainly part of leadership; however, decisions made without accepting responsibility are a shallow form of leadership. Anyone can seize authority and impose their will on others, especially once they have already accumulated influence. 

Years later, Yehuda discovers real leadership. Shimon has been imprisoned in Egypt, and Ya’akov refuses to allow Binyamin to travel there. The family stands on the edge of starvation, yet Ya’akov cannot bring himself to part with his youngest son. 

At that moment, Yehuda steps forward and guarantees Binyamin’s safe return. If Binyamin doesn’t come home, Yehuda will bear the consequences for the rest of his life. This personal guarantee finally persuades Ya’akov to send Binyamin. 

Yehuda has now learned that leadership isn’t merely making decisions. It’s accepting responsibility for those decisions and standing behind them with personal accountability. 

Yehuda soon reaches the moment when he must stand behind the promise he made. The brothers are detained, and Yosef – disguised as a harsh Egyptian official – threatens to imprison Binyamin. Yehuda steps forward and confronts the second most powerful man in Egypt to secure Binyamin’s release. In that moment he proves himself a leader, accepting responsibility and acting upon it. 

Our world is filled with loud imitations of leadership and a marketplace of self-promoting leadership workshops. Being featured in headlines doesn’t make someone a leader, nor does projecting influence. Genuine leadership is quieter: modelling principled behaviour; enabling others in the pursuit of their dreams; and accepting responsibility for the choices you make. These are the essential traits of authentic leadership. 

• Rabbi Moshe Taragin, a rabbi at Yeshivat Har Etzion (Gush), was ordained by Yeshiva University and has a Masters in English literature. His books include To Be Holy but Human: Reflections Upon My Rebbe, HaRav Yehuda Amital. mtaraginbooks.com.