Michael Kurin
Whether celebrating the demise of the enemies of the Jewish people is a Jewish value is a longstanding debate that has become relevant once again during Israel’s war with Iran and its terror proxies. It posed a practical question following the deaths of terror leaders like Hassan Nasrallah and Yahya Sinwar, just as it once did after the death of Yasser Arafat and many others before him. Jewish history has been very generous in the provision of enemies to allow us to debate this matter on a recurrent basis.
The primary source material for this debate consists of two seemingly contradictory verses in Mishlei. On one hand, Mishlei 24:17 admonishes: “Rejoice not when your enemy falls, and let not your heart be glad when he stumbles.” On the other hand, Mishlei 11:10 declares: “When the righteous prosper, the city exults, and when the wicked perish, there is joyful shouting.” The Sages used this latter verse to suggest that God Himself rejoices at the fall of evildoers:
Just as there is joy before the Omnipresent with the longevity of the righteous, so too there is joy before the Omnipresent with the destruction of evildoers, as it is said, “With the destruction of evildoers there is joy.” (Tosefta, Sanhedrin 14)[1]
On the other hand, Sanhedrin 39b references Mishlei 11:10 and clarifies that God does not rejoice when evildoers are destroyed, though He does allow others to feel joy at this.
Other biblical and rabbinic sources have entered the discussion as well. For instance, Berakhot 9b says that King David celebrated the destruction of evildoers:
David said 103 chapters [of Tehillim], and he did not say halleluyah in any of them until he saw the downfall of the wicked, as it is stated: “Let sinners cease from the earth, and let the wicked be no more. Let my soul bless the Lord; halleluyah.” (Tehillim 104:35)
On the other hand, a well-known midrash recounts God prohibiting the angels from celebrating the death of the Egyptians at sea:
What is the meaning of that which is written [in the passage describing the splitting of the Red Sea]: “And the one came not near the other all the night” (Shemot 14:20)? At that time, the ministering angels desired to recite a song before the Holy One, blessed be He. The Holy One, blessed be He, said to them: The works of My hands [i.e., the Egyptians] are drowning in the sea, and you are reciting a song before Me?! (Sanhedrin 39b)
There have been numerous attempts to synthesize these conflicting sources, and, in so doing, to clarify the appropriate reaction when enemies of the Jewish people are destroyed. We will summarize some of them:
- Yalkut Shimoni (Nakh, 960:42) relates the term oyivkha (“your enemy”) from Mishlei 24:17 to the appearance of the same term in Shemot 23:4: “When you encounter the ox of your enemy or his donkey wandering, you must return it to him.” Here, “your enemy” clearly refers to a rival rather than an objectively evil person. In keeping with this understanding, Yalkut Shimoni elsewhere (Torah, 613) explicitly applies Mishlei 24:17 to a case of scholarly rivals: “If you see a fellow student who bested you in halakhic debate experience misfortune, do not rejoice.” Based on this understanding of Mishlei 24:17, there is no contradiction. One is allowed to rejoice at the downfall of evildoers, while one is not allowed to rejoice in the downfall of a rival who is not objectively evil.
- Other talmudic sources suggest that the verses address different categories of enemies. In a purported confrontation between Mordekhai and Haman (Megillah 16a), Haman admonishes Mordeckai for rejoicing at his downfall, citing Mishlei 24:17, and Mordeckai retorts: “This applies only to Jewish enemies; but for you, it is written: ‘You shall tread upon their high places’ (Devarim 33:29).” According to this gemara, one is allowed to celebrate the downfall of non-Jewish enemies but not Jewish ones.
These first two approaches deal primarily with the conflicting verses in Mishlei, but do not address the midrash that says that God censured angelic celebration at the downfall of the Egyptians, who were certainly both evil and not Jewish. Other approaches have been suggested that account for this midrash as well. - The same passage in Sanhedrin 39b, while addressing the conflict between this midrash and Mishlei 11:10, suggests that only God Himself does not rejoice in the destruction of His creations; He does allow people to rejoice. Why the difference? The two simplest answers are that the people are allowed to rejoice because the destruction of the enemy led to their salvation, or because they were the ones who had suffered at the hands of the Egyptians. Thus, the angels, who neither suffered at the hands of the Egyptians nor achieved salvation, are prohibited from celebrating their destruction. The Israelites, who did suffer terribly under the Egyptians and were also saved by the latter’s destruction, are permitted to celebrate.
- Torah Temimah (Shemot 14:20) suggests that the same rule applies to both people and angels; the prohibition against the angels’ celebration in the midrash was only due to its timing. The angels were not allowed to rejoice because they attempted to do so in the moment when the destruction was occurring. However, to rejoice at a later time, such as in future years, would be permitted. Although he doesn’t say so explicitly, this approach can resolve the contradictory verses in Mishlei as well: Mishlei 11:10 allows for joy about the destruction of evildoers after the fact, while Mishlei 24:17 advises against rejoicing at the very moment of another’s downfall.
- R. Basil Herring, a contemporary scholar and former executive vice president of the Rabbinical Council of America, suggests that rejoicing is absolutely permitted.[2] He cites an alternative form of the above-cited midrash in which the celebration of the angels is limited not because of Egyptian suffering, but because of an ongoing danger to the Jews:
breaching the chasm between the human and divine realms:
Israel was in distress at the sea; the angels came to sing praise to God. He rebuked them: “My children are in distress, and you sing before Me?” (Midrash Tanhuma, Buber, Beshalah 13:3)
R. Herring felt that this was the authoritative version of the midrash, and that the midrash therefore does not discourage rejoicing at the destruction of the Egyptians.
- Perhaps the most commonly accepted approach is that the permissibility of rejoicing depends on the intention of the one rejoicing. Maharal resolves the conflict thus:
That which is written, “When the wicked perish, there is joyful shouting” – that is [regarding] when the destruction comes because of the evil, such that the court was sentencing him to death because of his evil in order to remove the evil from the world. But if it were not because of the evil, but rather another fall happened to the wicked person, it is forbidden to rejoice. (Derekh Hayyim 4:19)
When the destruction of the evildoer is a direct result of his evil activity, this is something worth rejoicing. However, if the evildoer reaches his or her demise in an unrelated way, celebration is prohibited. The reason for this distinction, presumably, is because of what it indicates about the intent of the celebrant. As Maharal himself points out (Derekh Hayyim ibid.), rejoicing is appropriate only when one is happy about the increased Divine honor that enters the world with the destruction of an evildoer. When his fall is linked to his evil actions, the destruction brings a sense of Divine justice into the world that is worth celebrating. When the connection is less apparent, however, the destruction of the evildoer should not be celebrated, as it does not increase God’s glory and honor. Interestingly, R. Avraham Minsker arrived at the same message but with a different technical application. In his view, it is appropriate to praise God for the death of the wicked when they are destroyed in a miraculous way, thus serving as an expression of Divine justice. Should they die of natural causes, there is no reason to rejoice.[3]
Many variations of this latter approach have been suggested. For example, Romemot Eil on Tehillim 5:11 declares: “Push them down because they have rebelled against ‘You,’ and not because they have rebelled against me.” It is appropriate to ask God to cause the downfall of an enemy who acted against God’s honor, but not if it is about one’s own honor. By the same token, one can celebrate the downfall of an enemy for the sake of God’s honor, but not because of a personal vendetta. Similarly, R. Avraham Grodzinski , the mashgiah ruhani of the Slobodka yeshiva in the early twentieth century, explained that only those who have achieved the necessary purity of heart are permitted to rejoice at the destruction of the wicked.[4] R. Basil Herring similarly argued that one should only rejoice at the downfall of evildoers out of recognition that the Divine justice that brought about this destruction of evil brings God’s glory into the world.[5] According to this approach, the sources that discourage celebration at the downfall of enemies refer to one who rejoices for the wrong reasons, while the sources that encourage celebration pertain to one who celebrates with the proper intent.
Relation to the Jewish Calendar
What is often omitted from this discussion is the fact that the Jewish calendar is littered with celebrations of the downfall of our enemies.[6] The stories of Pesach, Purim, and Hanukkah all feature the destruction of our enemies and are universally celebrated.[7] And yet, celebration of these holidays proceeds unquestioned.[8] The reason that we don’t often raise the issue of celebrating our enemies’ downfall in connection with these holidays is that these cases of an enemy’s destruction coincided with, or led to, national salvation for the Jewish people. However, the question remains whether the destruction itself should also be a focus of our celebration on these holidays.
Below, I will attempt to show how an underappreciated debate, primarily between Netziv and R. Meir Simcha Ha-Kohen of Dvinsk (author of Meshekh Hokhmah), sheds light on how we should understand the themes of these holidays and carries implications for Israel’s war on terror.
The tension between sources that support celebrating the downfall of enemies and those that denounce it is most apparent when it comes to Pesach – in particular, the seventh day of Pesach, which commemorates the splitting of the sea on that date.[9] There are several topics to address:
Shirat ha-Yam – The Song of the Sea
On the one hand, the aforementioned midrash points to God preventing the angels from rejoicing while the Egyptians were drowning at sea. At the same time, the Israelites did sing the Shirat ha-Yam, and we continue to recite it daily all year round. Several approaches offered above serve to address this tension, the primary point of debate between R. Meir Simcha and Netziv. Their debate is crucial to understanding what exactly we celebrate on the seventh day of Pesach.
R. Meir Simcha points out that the Torah designates the seventh day of Pesach as a yom tov already before narrating the crossing of the sea:
And behold, the Egyptians drowned in the sea on the seventh day of Pesach. And if Hashem had said [later] that they should make the seventh day a holy day, it would seem to people that Hashem was commanding to make a holiday to celebrate the downfall of the evildoers, when, really, do we not find that they [the angels] did not sing praises before Him…?! Because Hashem does not rejoice at the downfall of evildoers. Therefore, He said while they were still in Egypt that they should make a holiday on the seventh day, to show that the holiday is not a party to celebrate the drowning of the Egyptians in the sea.
R. Meir Simcha explains that the purpose of the surprising chronology in the Torah was to prevent misattribution of the cause of celebration to the destruction of the Egyptian enemy. He argues that the only thing we celebrate on the seventh day of Pesach is our own salvation, and decidedly not the destruction of the Egyptian army. R. Meir Simcha felt strongly that this phenomenon is not unique to the seventh day of Pesach, but is a fundamental concept that permeates all Jewish holidays. After decrying other nations that do celebrate the victory over their enemies, he states:
Not so with the Israelites; they do not rejoice at the downfall of their enemies and will not celebrate with joy at this, as it is said, “Do not rejoice at the downfall of your enemy.” (Ibid.)
Netziv, on the other hand, saw Shirat ha-Yam as evidence in the opposite direction. He argues (Ha’amek Davar, Shemot 14:31, s.v. “va-yar Yisrael”) that Israel’s song erupted not from relief at their salvation, but from witnessing the deaths of the Egyptians, as the Torah records, “And Israel saw the Egyptians dead on the seashore” (Shemot 14:30). In line with Maharal’s focus on the recommended intent of rejoicing, Netziv explains that the drowning of the Egyptians is celebrated as the main display of Divine justice, which brought honor to God in the world. This view is further strengthened, Netziv claims, by the subsequent line, “And Israel saw the great hand that God did in Egypt.” Netziv argues that if the primary focus of celebration were the salvation of Israel, the verse should have said, “the great hand that God did for Israel.” Instead, this verse highlights God’s miraculous hand against the Egyptians; that is what sparks the celebration, even more than the salvation of Israel. In support of his opinion, Netziv also cites the midrash (Mekhilta, Shirah 5) that says that each individual Egyptian died with a particular amount and type of suffering that perfectly matched how he personally had tortured the Israelites. For Netziv, the seventh day celebrates God’s justice and the downfall of Egypt, with Israel’s rescue as its consequence.
Netziv counts the author of the Haggadah among his supporters as well. Prior to the festive meal, the Haggadah cites several midrashic passages that suggest increasing numbers of plagues the Egyptians suffered at the sea, numbering up to 250 plagues. Why the midrash is bent on increasing the number of plagues upon the Egyptians at sea is unclear. According to Netziv’s approach, though, this fits very well. Since part of what we celebrate is the destruction of the Egyptians, it makes sense that we would want to understand that destruction as having been completely devastating, involving as many plagues as we can conceive.
Beyond the impetus behind the song, the text of Shirat ha-Yam is also a component of this debate. Shirat ha-Yam seems to primarily celebrate the drowning of the Egyptians at sea rather than the salvation of the Israelites, in line with Netziv’s perspective. The opening line, “I will sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider He has hurled into the sea” (Shemot 15:1), sets the tone by praising God through the image of Egyptian death. The refrain is not about Israel’s safe crossing but about God’s act of casting the oppressor into the waters. Similarly, “The Lord is a man of war; the Lord is His name” (v. 3) portrays God as a victorious warrior Whose glory is revealed in the defeat and death of enemies. The martial imagery continues: “The depths covered them; they sank into the depths like a stone” (v. 5), and later, “They went down into the depths like lead” (v. 10). These similes emphasize not only the completeness of destruction but also its weight and permanence, highlighting the crushing finality of Divine justice.
These verses pose a problem for R. Meir Simcha. Interestingly, R. Meir Simcha offers a kabbalistic interpretation of many parts of the song, explaining its words symbolically and metaphorically. Although he himself does not say so, the metaphorical interpretation allows R. Meir Simcha to reframe the martial verses of the song. When the text says, “The Lord is a man of war” (v. 3), the emphasis is not on God’s prowess in battle or the glory of enemy death, but on God’s masterful use of war to guide history in the direction He wants it to advance. Similarly, when the Israelites sing, “Horse and rider He has hurled into the sea” (v. 1), the intent is not to exalt in the death of Egyptians but to marvel that the greatest imperial force collapsed in an instant before God’s will. The metaphors of sinking “like stone” or “like lead” (vv. 5, 10) are also not gory details to be savored, but illustrations of the futility of human arrogance in the face of Divine sovereignty.
In this light, R. Meir Simcha would argue that Shirat ha-Yam does not contradict what he sees as a Jewish aversion to celebrating an enemy’s downfall. What is being sung is not “Egypt died,” but “God revealed Himself.” The Egyptians’ fate is narrated only because it is the means by which God provided salvation to Israel.
Hallel on the Latter Days of Pesach
The tension between salvation and justice manifests concretely in the custom of reciting “Half-Hallel” during the latter days of Pesach. The Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni, Nakh 960) suggests that the reason for this reduction in Hallel is the need to temper our celebration due to the destruction of the Egyptians. This is cited authoritatively by Beit Yosef (Orah Hayyim 490:4) as well as Mishnah Berurah (490:7). This understanding fits well with the ethos of R. Meir Simcha.
However, this interpretation is not unanimous, and there may be other ways to explain Half-Hallel. The Talmud suggests (Arakhin 10a-b): “On Sukkot, each day has unique sacrifices… but on Passover all are identical.” The recitation of a full Hallel each day of a holiday parallels its having a unique set of sacrifices. On Sukkot, each day has a unique set of sacrifices, while, on Pesach, the sacrifices of each day are identical. The reasons for this connection are beyond the scope of this article, but, for our purposes, this approach remains neutral regarding the celebration of the destruction of our enemies.
Lastly, R. Basil Herring offers a unique interpretation of the reason for Half-Hallel on the latter days of Pesach. He challenges the view based on Yalkut Shimoni: If human death intrinsically precludes joy, why recite any Hallel? Further, he notes that the omitted chapters of Tehillim (115:1-11; 116:1-11) are not overly joyous, but actually contain pleas for future salvation – “The bonds of death encompassed me” (Tehillim 116:3) – and cries for justice – “Not for our sake, Lord… but for Your name’s sake!” (Tehillim 115:1). He therefore argues that these were omitted because, on a day when we celebrate the Divine justice that was so apparent at the splitting of the sea, it would be inappropriate to recite these Tehillim that suggest such justice has not yet been delivered. R. Herring believes that we certainly have liberty to celebrate the destruction of our enemies, and this is a major theme of the latter days of Pesach, though again, only with the proper intent. This approach, too, fits well with that of Netziv.
Purim and Hanukkah
R. Meir Simcha extended his argument to Purim and Hanukkah. He notes that, with respect to Purim, the day the Jewish people rested from fighting their enemies was selected as the date of the holiday, rather than the day of the victory. He argues that this supports his view that the celebration is more about national salvation than about the destruction of the enemy. The Vilna Gaon, on the other hand, counters that it actually became clear months earlier that salvation had come, with the rise of Mordekhai and the death of Haman.[10] The fact that the date of the holiday was chosen based on the time of the battle in which the Jews defeated their enemies implies that the destruction of the enemies is a significant component of the celebration.
Similarly, R. Meir Simcha points out regarding Hanukkah that the mitzvot of the day commemorate the miracle of oil and the rededication of the Temple. Again, for R. Meir Simcha, this intentional selection implies that the military victory is not a primary component of the celebration. Here, too, some have found flaws in his argument. Professor Yeshayahu Leibowitz (Sihot al Parshat Ha-Shavua, Bo, 19) points out that most of our text of Al ha-Nissim refers to the military victory, not the miracle of the oil. That said, the fact that the Gemara (Shabbat 21b) only discusses the miracle of oil and not the military victory may support the approach of R. Meir Simcha.[11]
Conclusion and Application to Current Events
The debate between R. Meir Simcha and Netziv essentially poses the question: which is the greater expression of God’s glory, His ability to rescue the Jewish people from destruction, or His ability to inflict justice on those who wish to destroy us? R. Meir Simcha believed that the destruction of the enemy is only a means to achieve salvation of the Jewish people, but is not inherently worth celebrating. Netziv and others see intrinsic value in bringing enemies to justice, such that it itself is worth celebrating, and even to a greater degree than the salvation that came as a consequence.
These two schools of thought can inform the terrible debate of national priorities that, until recently, had been tearing apart Israeli society for the better part of a year. If God’s glory is primarily expressed by bringing evildoers to justice, then presumably bringing Israel’s evil enemies to justice is a value that should be actively pursued and prioritized. This would lend support to those who argue in favor of prioritizing the destruction of Hamas over the release of the hostages. On the other hand, if the Jewish tradition does not celebrate the destruction of our enemies inherently, and the exclusive expression of Divine glory is God’s salvation of His people, then it is salvation that should be pursued rather than the destruction of our enemy. This school of thought would suggest that the rescue of the hostages is the primary goal to be pursued and prioritized above all else. The destruction of Hamas need only be pursued insofar as it helps to achieve the redemption of the hostages, or for its practical value in preventing future tragedy and conflict. The destruction of Hamas itself, in the absence of these reasons, would have little inherent value.[12]
Unfortunately, connecting this contemporary national debate to one that has perplexed Jewish thinkers for millenia does not offer any solutions to this terrible dilemma. Perhaps the knowledge that a parallel debate dates all the way back to our ancient texts can help our people retain unity and the ability to maintain civil discourse. As we continue to await the body of the last remaining deceased hostage, we pray that our people never need to face this awful choice again.
[1] All translations are my own.
[2] Basil Herring, “Should Jews Rejoice when their Enemy Falls,” Tradition 32.2 (Winter 1998): 143.
[3] Ahavat Eitan to Ein Ya’akov on Berakhot 10a.
[4] Torat Avraham, 319. Quotation excerpted in Gil Student, “Rejoicing at Death,” Torah Musings (Nov. 10, 2004).
[5] Herring, “Should Jews Rejoice when their Enemy Falls,” 143.
[6] To be fair, R. Herring’s discussion in the Tradition article cited above does focus on Pesach specifically.
[7] The same can be said for Yom Ha-Atzma’ut and Yom Yerushalayim, but I am limiting my discussion in this article to biblical and early rabbinic holidays.
[8] Notwithstanding the elimination of two paragraphs of Hallel on the latter days of Pesach, which will be addressed below.
[9] See, e.g., Ibn Ezra to Shemot 12:16, s.v. “u-vayom ha-rishon.”
[10] Bi’ur Ha-Gra to Mishlei 11:10, s.v. “be-tuv tzadikim ta’alotz kiryah.”
[11] Though it is more likely that there are other reasons for this focus. See my previous article, “Nine Crazy Nights?,” The Lehrhaus (Dec. 27, 2022).
[12] Though importantly, even this camp must remain focused on celebrating destruction only insofar as it is a display of Divine justice and enhancing the glory of God in our world, and not, God forbid, out of spite or revenge.
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