Rejoicing over the defeat of our enemies?

Few, if any, will mourn the passing on Yahya Sinwar, the recently killed leader of Hamas in Gaza and chairman of the Hamas Political Bureau. Sinwar murdered Palestinians suspected of collaborating with Israel, planned the abduction and killing of Israeli soldiers, and with Mohammed Deif, was the mastermind of the October 7 attack. And yet, there has been little public celebration of his death and the deaths of Mohammed Deif, Ismail Haniyeh,

Hassan Nasrallah, and others.

Yes, people have posted to social media, but few have sung and danced in the streets in scenes reminiscent of the munchkins and her minions celebrating the death of the Wicked Witch of the West.

Why don’t we rejoice in the death of the wicked?

Why is that? From a practical perspective, the death of any of these leaders has not led to practical differences. Missiles and drones continue to fly, sirens sound, people enter shelters and secure rooms. Troops and civilians remain in harm’s way and the conflict does not abate.

Who celebrated the Egyptian dead in the Sea of Reeds?

Scrutinizing this from a deeper perspective, celebration of the death or defeat of one’s foes isn’t compatible with Jewish tradition or values. The famous midrash recorded in Sanhedrin 39b 39b, pictures the heavenly scene immediately following the splitting of the Sea of Reeds and then crashing down upon the pursuing Egyptians. The angels wished to break into song and God chastised them saying, “My handiwork (the Egyptians) is drowning in the sea and you would sing before Me?” If God does not rejoice in the deaths of the wicked, why should we?

That idea is taken a step further in the Passover Seder. Traditionally, every person removes a drop of wine from his or her cup at the mention of each of the ten plagues in the Haggadah, symbolizing that our joy is diminished because of the suffering that others had to endure.

An excellent article by Rabbi Tzvi Ron, traces the origin of this reason to relatively modern times and the teaching of Rabbi Yirmiyahu Löw (1812-1874). According to Rabbi Löw:

“Since the Jewish people are filled with mercy, and through our being saved from Egypt, God’s creatures were lost and drowned. Although it is a great joy for us that God took us out of Egypt and redeemed us, it is still painful for us that through this others were destroyed, ‘for punishment to the righteous is not good’ (Prov 17:26). If God had saved
us without causing loss and death to others, it would have been a greater happiness for us.
Therefore, through this our joy was a little diminished, and to show that Israel is
merciful and the children of the merciful, we pour out a little [wine] at every plague. And this is simple to understand.”

In addition, this same rationale is used to explain why after the first day of Pesach only half Hallel (selections from Psalms 113-118), instead of full Hallel (all of Psalms 113-118) is recited. Relying on the midrashic compilation, Pesikta deRav Kahana, which repeats the midrash about the Egyptians dying in the sea, we indicate our diminished joy by reducing the verses of praise that we sing.

Why shouldn’t I be happy when my enemy suffers?

The rationales cited are relatively modern or taken from later rabbinic times and reflect largely how the people as a group have responded to the defeat of enemies, there is also biblical precedent that is more focused on the individual. In Proverbs (24:17), we read, “If your enemy falls, do not exult; if he stumbles, let your heart not rejoice.” This sensibility is lifted up by Samuel the Younger in Pirke Avot (4:19) as his frequent admonition to those surrounding him. Why, unlike most other statements in Pirke Avot, is there no other expansion or explanation of the Biblical verse?
Samuel wanted to emphasize that gloating over the downfall of others would lead to that same fate. Much like the bullied become the bullies, those engaging in schadenfreude, gradually become wicked. Negativity becomes all-consuming: they themselves become evil.

The Chofetz Chayim brilliantly expounds on this in his opus, Guarding the Tongue:

“And how careful must a man be not to rejoice in the falling of his friend and in his shame, as it is written (Proverbs 24:17-18): “When your foe falls, do not rejoice, and when he stumbles, let your heart not be glad. Lest the Eternal see, and it be evil … etc”
And this sin greatly arouses the power of judgment against a man, and it has the power to actually destroy, as does the sin of idolatry. For thus do we find in the words of tradition (Eichah Rabbah, Pethichta), that at the time of the destruction of the Temple,
when our father Abraham went into the Temple and the Holy One asked him: “Why is My loved one in My house?”; he asked: “Why have my sons been exiled among the
peoples of the world?” And the Holy One answered: “Because they serve idols and rejoice in each other’s downfall”; the Holy One equating this [second] sin with [that of] idolatry!
Let a man, then, always reflect within himself that in view of his sins and his faults, he, too, deserves to be demeaned and shamed — if not for the Eternal’s pitying him in the
merit of his fathers.”

The world is a better place without Sinwar, Nasrallah, Haniyeh, Deif, and dozens of others who have inflicted death and suffering on individuals, families, and society. We can and should acknowledge the harm and damage they have caused and the pain that is a result of their actions, but we never want to become like them. We can, we should, we must strive to be better.