EXOD677 Morality, in Jonathan Haidt's phrase, binds and blinds. [Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion (New York: Pantheon Books, 2012)]. It binds us to others in a bond of reciprocal altruism. But it also blinds us to the humanity of those who stand outside. It unites and divides. It divides because it unites. Morality turns the "I" of self-interest into the "we" of the common good. But the very act of creating an "us" simultaneously creates a "them," the people not like us. Even the most universal of religions, founded on principles of love and compassion, have often seen those outside the faith as Satan, the infidel, the antichrist, a child of darkness, the unredeemed. They have committed unspeakable acts of brutality in the name of God. Neither Platonic knowledge nor Adam Smith's moral sense nor Kantian reason has cured the heart of darkness in the human condition. That is why two sentences blaze through Parashat Mishpatim like the sun and emerging from behind the clouds: "You must not mistreat or oppress the stranger in any way. Remember, you yourselves were once strangers in the land of Egypt" [this verse] and "You must not oppress strangers. You know what it feels like to be a stranger, for you yourselves were once strangers in the land of Egypt (Exodus 23:9). The great crimes of humanity have been committed against the stranger, the outsider, the one-not-like-us. Recognizing the humanity of the stranger has been a historic weak link in most cultures.