In this part of the chapter, King Solomon continues his first investigation: does man have any enduring advantage in all his toil under the sun? Having detailed the four elements and their constant cycles, he summarizes the physical side of creation, concludes the first inquiry with the question of the remembrance left behind by man, and opens a new inquiry - an inquiry that is no longer accessible to every person, but requires wisdom. Following the Malbim and other commentators, we will proceed according to the order of the verses.
כׇּל־הַדְּבָרִים יְגֵעִים, לֹא־יוּכַל אִישׁ לְדַבֵּר, לֹא־תִשְׂבַּע עַיִן לִרְאוֹת, וְלֹא־תִמָּלֵא אֹזֶן מִשְּׁמֹעַ׃ - All things are wearisome; a man cannot express it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing.
After explaining all four elements to us, how each of them revolves and returns to its original place without any change, Solomon says: Know that I could continue and detail this across every detail in the world, but you would grow weary from listening. It is such a lengthy matter that it is impossible to count everything. Take wheat, for example: you sow it, it rots in the ground, yields several grains of wheat, and once again you have wheat which you sow again, and so on in an endless cycle. It turns out that all of creation is built upon such cycles. But "all things are wearisome" - a person grows weary recounting all the details of this, and therefore "a man cannot express it" due to the sheer volume of details.
"The eye is not satisfied with seeing" - if we try to examine these phenomena visually, the eye will never be satisfied with seeing. And in another sense as well: there are things the eye cannot see at all. Everything moves in cycles, even the atom, around which the electron orbits - yet who has ever seen it? No one has seen an atom; no one has seen an electron. We know its behavior based on observable conditions, but seeing it is impossible. Many things whose existence we know of cannot be directly inspected, as they cannot be seen through a telescope nor through a microscope. "Nor is the ear filled with hearing" - even one who hears from a wise man recounting all the details, his ear will never be filled with hearing all the wonders of nature and how everything returns to its place. Therefore Solomon says: Pardon me for not elaborating further. I have given you the four elements, and from them you can extrapolate on your own to all other matters of the world.
מַה־שֶּׁהָיָה הוּא שֶׁיִּהְיֶה, וּמַה־שֶּׁנַּעֲשָׂה הוּא שֶׁיֵּעָשֶׂה, וְאֵין כׇּל־חָדָשׁ תַּחַת הַשָּׁמֶשׁ׃ - What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.
"What has been is what will be" - of everything Hashem created during the six days of Creation, nothing is ever ruined or lost. "And what has been done is what will be done" - do not think that the transformations that occur are permanent; these are cyclical changes that recur forever, as we saw with the sun, the wind, and all matters of nature. You might say: here was wheat and it rotted - no, the process recurs, and there will be wheat again. Everything repeats itself.
"And there is nothing new under the sun" - the Malbim explains that this does not refer to matters of wisdom or scientific inventions, but to physical creations, to matters of material and earthly existence, the four elements, and everything we have enumerated. Among these, nothing is new: whatever constitutes them is never annihilated and nothing new is ever created; rather, the exact same components shed one form and take on another, recurring endlessly. This is precisely the law of conservation of mass, which is a fundamental principle of chemistry, as well as the law of conservation of energy: matter may be converted into energy, but it never simply disappears.
יֵשׁ דָּבָר שֶׁיֹּאמַר רְאֵה־זֶה חָדָשׁ הוּא, כְּבָר הָיָה לְעֹלָמִים אֲשֶׁר הָיָה מִלְּפָנֵנוּ׃ - Sometimes there is a thing of which one says, "See, this is new" - it has already existed in the ages before us.
Sometimes a person indeed comes along and says: Look, here is something that never existed before! Solomon tells him: Know that this claim stems from a lack of understanding, for "it has already existed in the ages before us." A wonderful example of this: there was a man named Edmond Halley, a famous astronomer well-versed in the science of astronomy and a colleague of Newton, who lived between the years 5416 and 5502 (1656-1742). He studied stellar systems and especially comets - a celestial body that leaves a tail behind it. He discovered three comets that had appeared at separate times and had not previously been connected: in the years 1531, 1607, and 1682 of the secular calendar, and all three were identical and followed an identical trajectory. From this he deduced that it was the very same celestial body, returning in a cycle once every seventy-five and a half years. Indeed, observations continued, and the comet appeared in 1758, in 1835, in 1910, and most recently in 1986.
The wonder of it is that this already appears in the Gemara in Horayot (10a): "Rabbi Yehoshua said: There is a star that appears once every seventy years and misleads sailors." He observed it every seventy-five years, while the Sages said seventy - it does not have to be exact. In other words, long before your research, Rabbi Yehoshua was already there and observed it. A person seeing this comet might exclaim: "How can you say there is nothing new under the sun? Look, this is completely new; it was not here before!" Shlomo tells him: Because you do not know enough, and have not lived here long enough, you imagine there are new things. In truth, however, "it has already been in the ages that were before us" - it existed long ago, but because you did not research or recognize it, you declare, "See, this is new!" In truth, there is nothing new about it at all.
אֵין זִכְרוֹן לָרִאשֹׁנִים, וְגַם לָאַחֲרֹנִים שֶׁיִּהְיוּ לֹא־יִהְיֶה לָהֶם זִכָּרוֹן עִם שֶׁיִּהְיוּ לָאַחֲרֹנָה׃ - There is no remembrance of earlier generations, nor will there be any remembrance of the later ones that will be, among those who will come after them.
After explaining that man is the lowest of all creations in terms of enduring existence - since everything else continues perpetually while he does not - a person might still argue: True, I have no permanence, but I left my mark on history; people will remember me; I changed reality; at least my achievements will be remembered. If so, perhaps it is worthwhile to toil under the sun after all. It is true that I am transient and will leave everything behind, but my legacy will endure.
To this Shlomo replies: Observe that there is no remembrance of earlier generations, nor of the later ones yet to be. After all, the earliest generations are not remembered by us, and we are "later" relative to them. So too with you in relation to those who come after you: you will not be remembered either. And even if people read about you in history books, what does that give you? What did it give Napoleon that someone remembers there was once a man named Napoleon? Someone remembers you - so what? What does it profit you? It turns out that man has no advantage in all his toil under the sun, for his presence here is temporary and he leaves everything behind; and whom do you truly interest once you are no longer here?
With this, the first investigation is complete: clarifying man's physical existence, his presence here, and his memory here - who actually remembers him? From this you can understand that "Vanity of vanities, said Kohelet, vanity of vanities, all is vanity," for all matters of this world are utter futility. And for all this, the Malbim notes, one does not need to be the wisest of all men. Any person, with even a cursory contemplation, can see and understand this matter and reach this conclusion.
אֲנִי קֹהֶלֶת הָיִיתִי מֶלֶךְ עַל־יִשְׂרָאֵל בִּירוּשָׁלָ͏ִם׃ - I, Kohelet, was king over Israel in Jerusalem.
Here Shlomo opens an inquiry that genuinely requires wisdom. As the Kol Ephraim explains: If you wish to know what truly warrants deep investigation, what demands contemplation and wisdom - it is the realm of wisdom itself. In material matters, anyone can observe and realize that everything is cyclical and that nothing of him will remain, so no profound inquiry is needed. But in matters of wisdom, as he will detail below, one needs a wise and discerning individual who can properly examine the issues.
There is a difficulty in this verse: the entire verse seems superfluous, for the book already opened with, "The words of Kohelet, son of David, king in Jerusalem." Why is it necessary now, in verse 12, to repeat, "I, Kohelet, was king over Israel in Jerusalem"? Therefore, the commentators each explain in their own way the underlying message here. According to the Kol Ephraim, because a far deeper investigation is now required - one not dealing with simple material matters that anyone can understand - Shlomo steps forward and declares: I am the one qualified to undertake this investigation; I am the one suited to delve deeply and contemplate these matters.
Notice: he does not say "I, Kohelet, son of David," but rather "I, Kohelet, was king over Israel." Why? Because a king who is the son of a king is often a man of great wealth who does not need to trouble himself with running the kingdom, as the monarchy already operates smoothly by virtue of his father. What does he spend his time doing? Feasting, pursuing pleasures, and indulging desires. He does not delve into profound matters, and his daily life is occupied with physical gratification. Therefore, Shlomo does not attribute his authority to his father, lest you say: surely you spent all your time on trivialities. Rather, "I was king over Israel" - and Israel is the wise nation, "a wise and understanding people is this great nation," renowned for their Torah and their wisdom. Nor was he king over Israel alone, but also in the world's center of wisdom, in Jerusalem, the dwelling place of the Shechinah, "great among the nations, a princess among the provinces," where kings from across the world came to hear words of wisdom. And if I reigned over them, understand that when it comes to speaking of wisdom, I am the one qualified to speak with you. Furthermore, Shlomo was privileged that Hashem granted him wisdom beyond any mortal. Therefore, in these matters, I am the one fit to speak, and you should accept what I say.
It is worthwhile to return to the verse and see what the Targum says about it. The Targum translates: When King Solomon sat upon his royal throne, his heart grew haughty over his great wealth, and he transgressed the decree of Hashem's word - for Hashem forbade three things to a king - and he amassed many horses, chariots, and horsemen, gathered immense amounts of silver and gold, intermarried with foreign nations, and took a thousand wives, foremost among them the daughter of Pharaoh. He amassed horses and chariots and led the people back down to Egypt, and amassed silver and gold beyond what the Torah permitted. Immediately, Hashem's wrath burned against him, and He sent Ashmedai, king of the demons, who banished him from his royal throne and took his signet ring from his hand, so that he would wander in exile throughout the world as a rebuke to him. And he would wander through the towns of the provinces and the cities of the Land of Israel, weeping and crying out: "I am Kohelet, whose name was formerly Solomon; I was king over Israel in Jerusalem."
He told his story, and no one believed him. They said to him: There are many people like you in psychiatric wards; this one is certain he is the prime minister, that one is certain he is the foreign minister, and a third is convinced he is the president - you could form a shadow government there. Well, you also think you were the king; it happens to people, there are established treatments and pills for this. In short, no one took him seriously, and no one believed that he had actually been king.
And Rashi similarly explains that "I, Kohelet, was king" comes to recount his history: I was king over the entire world, then over Israel, and ultimately over Jerusalem alone - and Chazal say that in the end he ruled only over his walking stick. Indeed, if we note the past tense phrasing, "I was king" - when does a person lose his kingship during his lifetime? Inevitably, it is as Chazal expound, that King Solomon lost his throne for a certain period, which is why he speaks in the past tense. Initially, he ruled over the entire world, and then his realm gradually shrank until only Jerusalem remained, and even that is described in the past tense, "I was." There is a dispute among Chazal whether he was "king and commoner" or "king, commoner, and king" - whether he returned to his throne or not; the widely accepted view is that he did return to his kingship. In any event, Solomon is describing here the punishment he received for acting unlawfully and contrary to the Torah.
The Imrei Shefer explains: After Solomon taught us that all human actions in this world are pure futility, one might say: Reflect upon this - anyone who observes this world is struck by an immense wonder that would agitate the heart of any discerning person. If there is truly no benefit in this world, and if one can attain no ultimate purpose here, why did Hashem bring us here? And why would Hashem devise such futility, leading tens of thousands of people astray in every generation? After all, the Holy One, Blessed be He, is the One Who created this vanity! You tell me everything is futile, futile, futile - but who placed this futility here? Does Hashem create vain things? Does Hashem create something purposeless, causing the entire world to chase after something devoid of substance? What is the logic in all this? From this, people might conclude that this world is indeed significant, that it should not be dismissed so lightly, and that one should invest and achieve here, for even in physical existence there must be some benefit and purpose - for if not, why would Hashem have created it?
However, before Solomon answers this, he first introduces: You wish to hear an answer from me, but you surely ask yourselves - Solomon, why do you consider yourself qualified to give answers? How do you know the purpose of the world and its entire nature? Who dared presume to speak such lofty words, disparaging the dignity of all mankind by claiming they spend their days in futility? Therefore, he first presents his credentials: "I, Kohelet, was king" - a king renowned across the ends of the earth, into whose hands the Holy One, Blessed be He, delivered all the kingdoms of the earth, ruling over the entire globe. Yet despite all this, know that I did not preoccupy myself with all those foreign kingdoms; rather, "I was king over Israel" - I focused solely on governing the kingdom here, rather than managing the whole world; and "in Jerusalem," the Holy City, where all of Israel would gather to serve Hashem, and to this sacred purpose I dedicated my entire life.
וְנָתַתִּי אֶת־לִבִּי לִדְרוֹשׁ וְלָתוּר בַּחׇכְמָה עַל כׇּל־אֲשֶׁר נַעֲשָׂה תַּחַת הַשָּׁמָיִם, הוּא עִנְיַן רָע נָתַן אֱלֹהִים לִבְנֵי הָאָדָם לַעֲנוֹת בּוֹ׃ - And I applied my heart to inquire and to search out by wisdom concerning all that is done under the heavens; it is a grievous task that God has given to the sons of man to be occupied with.
And if you should ask: How does an exalted king like you know what actually happens among the common folk? Sitting in an ivory tower, distant and detached, how can he express an opinion on worldly affairs when he is out of touch with everyday reality? To this the Imrei Shefer explains: Do not imagine that I was detached; on the contrary, "and I applied my heart to inquire" - to inquire directly from people; I would go and ask about the course of their lives here in this world.
Indeed, this was a common practice. Anyone who reads historical accounts of kings will see that one of their pastimes was disguising themselves as commoners and touring the kingdom anonymously, unrecognized as royalty. In this way, the king wanted to observe reality as it was, rather than through the lens of what his advisors told him or what his ministers reported, since official reports often paint everything as rosy and successful. In Soviet Russia, for instance, the press always reported that everything was flourishing: the most successful country, envied by all nations, the most wonderful place to live.
The story is told of an undercover agent in Russia - where half the population were secret police and the other half reported on the first half; everyone had a file and everyone had a report - who overheard a man speaking to his friend. The man said: "Did you hear what is happening in Leningrad? Don't ask, what a battle, half the city is destroyed!" His friend replied: "Really? I haven't heard a thing about it." Suddenly, the officer stopped him: "Sir, you are spreading illegal propaganda! Why are you telling stories that cause faint-heartedness and demoralize the public?" The man said: "What lies, sir? I was there this morning; I just arrived from Leningrad, half the city is in ruins!" The officer said: "Sir, stop wandering the streets and start reading the newspapers! Reality is in the papers - read them and see how everything is flourishing, thriving, and wonderful." Kings did not want to live in such a bubble, which is why many of them walked among the people to hear firsthand what was truly happening.
And Solomon says: Not only "to inquire" (lidrosh), but also "to search out" (latur) with wisdom. Not merely to ask and speak with people about what is happening with them and their way of life, but also to search out - to go on expeditions, to roam and travel to all ends of the earth and to distant isles, observing all the vicissitudes of the times and the schemes of mankind, so as to deduce from them a true understanding of the reality of this world.
And the conclusion: regarding everything done under the heavens, I saw that all of it is "a grievous task that God has given to the sons of man to be afflicted with" - everything happens, as it were, because it is a grievous matter that Hashem gave to human beings to keep them occupied. Yet this phrasing is puzzling: What is this "grievous task that God has given," and what conclusion did he reach?
A wonderful parable is cited here, originating with the Malbim. This is compared to a king who observed the servants hired to do his work, and saw that they were lazy and foolish, oppressing, robbing, and murdering, idle from work most of the time. They are the king's servants, yet instead of doing his work, they waste their time and commit grave offenses. To remove this stumbling block, the king devised a plan: he gave them a vast tract of land, an area spanning many miles, containing gold ore - much like the gold rush in America, where everyone rushes to one place to start gathering gold. He told them: "Gather it, and whatever you collect is yours." They streamed there in droves, and instead of engaging in robbery and violence, harassing one another, murder, and forbidden acts, they all began digging and extracting gold. Each one finds, each one fills his pockets, and at least people are occupied with constructive matters rather than senseless mischief.
However, when their years of service came to an end, the king said to them: "Gentlemen, everyone leaves everything they gathered right here, and you go home." The king took everything they had collected. At first glance, this might appear to be a perversion of justice: after all, the king initially told them that whatever each person collected would be his, yet after they toiled and gathered, he sent them away empty-handed! But the answer is that there is certainly no miscarriage of justice here, only fairness and righteousness. For these servants were hired by the king, obligated to do his work, and he was the one paying their wage; yet until then, instead of working, they indulged in wild behavior, acted as if they were free, and committed every abomination. Therefore, he outsmarted them and deceived them, so that he would receive what was rightfully his. And what was his due? That they work. The king says: "I brought you to work; true, I sold you the illusion that you were working for yourself, but in the end I received what was owed to me. I did not rob you - you work for me, and I merely extracted from you what was rightfully mine."
So it is for anyone who contemplates the affairs of this world. On the surface, our reality is difficult to comprehend: the Holy One, Blessed be He, placed man in the world, gave him desires, gave him buildings to construct and affairs to manage, and in the end, after seventy or eighty years of investing all his energy in them - chasing material gain, taking another loan, achieving another financial success, building more and expanding further - the Holy One, Blessed be He, says to him: "My friend, that is all; leave everything here for Me and go." Seemingly, this is identical to the parable.
Yet the answer is just as we said there. Consider: God made man upright and placed him in Gan Eden so that he would eat of its fruit, be satisfied with its goodness, and devote all his toil solely to the service of the Creator. And what did man do? Just like those servants - having free time on his hands, he committed a sin, went and ate from the Tree of Knowledge, and thereby rooted within himself desires, physical cravings, and the futile pursuits of this world.
And the King sees how man, instead of serving Him - which is why He placed him here - sinks and drowns in earthly and material matters, drawing away from the service of Hashem and committing sins. Not only does he fail to serve Hashem, but he exploits all the abilities granted to him to anger Him. Kayin murders Hevel, followed by the rest of the sins we witnessed later in the generation of Noach. Thus, man took the world in which Hashem placed him "to cultivate it and to guard it," and used it to provoke the Holy One, Blessed be He.
What did the Holy One, Blessed be He, do? He gave him an occupation to be afflicted with - He brought upon man all the concerns of physical existence and the toil of this world. Now he has no time for anything: he wakes in the morning and rushes off to his daily grind, must work, must make ends meet, pays for an apartment, carries a mortgage, must marry off children; all day long a person revolves around mundane toil. And when a person toils in the mundane, does he have time for sins? Does he have the leisure to obsess over lusts and physical pleasures? And if you say, "People still sin," imagine what it would be like if all their time were completely free. If a person woke in the morning with all his material needs fully taken care of, what would he do? He would start chasing desires. Who could imagine how boundlessly the world would be submerged in lust and materialism! Therefore, the Holy One, Blessed be He, said: Rather than engaging in forbidden deeds, I will give you things to keep you occupied - build, establish, undertake projects, immerse yourself in financial matters, provided that you do not indulge in destructive desires and grave sins, which are far worse in themselves.
And what is the end of their toil? When their years of labor come to an end, as they depart to their eternal home, He takes from them all their possessions and acquisitions, and they return empty-handed to their graves - empty of material acquisitions, of course, but not of spiritual ones.
These concepts were expressed by the Malbim in two other places. The first is in his commentary on the Torah on the verse, "Cursed is the ground for your sake." The Malbim asks a profound question: What is the meaning of ba'avurecha ("for your sake")? Seemingly, the text should have said biglalcha ("because of you"). For the word ba'avur always refers to the future - "Let my father arise and eat of his son's venison, so that (ba'avur) your soul may bless me," meaning so that you may bless me in the future; whereas biglal means that something occurred because of you. If so, "Cursed is the ground for your sake" seems grammatically inaccurate: you sinned, and because of that the earth was cursed - it was cursed because of you (biglalcha), not for your sake (ba'avurecha)!
The Malbim explains: as a result of eating from the Tree of Knowledge, lust and base desires entered within you. If all your sustenance were easily obtained and everything you needed were readily available as in Gan Eden, you would be immersed all day in desires and forbidden acts. Therefore, Hashem says: I must find something to keep you occupied, and what I have found is that you will constantly be preoccupied with toiling to bring forth bread from the earth. In this way, the fantasies of jealousy, lust, and honor will not rule over you, for "in sorrow shall you eat of it" - you will always be toiling to satisfy your hunger, and then your soul will not be free for lusts, illicit relations, and other transgressions. And this is magnificent: "Cursed is the ground" is not punishment for the past, but "for your sake" (ba'avurecha), for the future - so that you do not sink into physical indulgence. For this very reason, the ground was cursed.
In Parashat Noach, the Malbim explains along the very same lines. He cites that before the Flood, people would sow once every forty years - who can even imagine what that was like? A person would plant, and for the next forty years did not need to sow again; from that single planting, he had produce for forty years! They had no plagues or illnesses, and the weather was consistently pleasant like the period from Pesach to Atzeret (Shavuot), perpetual springtime, since before the Flood the earth had not yet tilted on its axis and there were no shifting seasons. Everything was comfortable and optimal. If so, "what could the son do to not sin?" When everything is optimal and there is nothing to keep one occupied, people occupy themselves with sin.
Therefore, following the Flood, Hashem decreed: from now on, "all the days of the earth, seedtime and harvest" - every year you will have to sow, every year you will have no time to breathe. You finished gathering in the crops? Go plant new ones! And furthermore, you must weed out the curse of the earth, the thorns and thistles it sprouts for you. It is a grueling, daily toil from which there is no rest. Not only that, but also "cold and heat, summer and winter" - the four seasons, which are the causes of illness and afflictions in man. And because day and night they never cease from the labor of earning a livelihood and the anxiety of guarding their health, they have no free time to sin.
It turns out that Shlomo is alluding to all of this here: all that man toils under the sun is "a bad business God has given to the sons of man to be afflicted with." The Holy One, blessed be He, gave it to us, and it is indeed a "bad business" - dealing endlessly with physical matters is a miserable occupation - but He gave it to us "to be afflicted with" (la'anot bo), meaning to be preoccupied with, so that the labor of this world will weigh heavily upon them and they will not turn to false pursuits. All the mundane pursuits of this world are like occupational therapy for mankind: stay occupied with something so you do not chase after desires. It is a burdensome task given so that we have something to occupy us, so that we do not abandon spiritual matters and completely forget our purpose and mission by drowning in lusts. You have no free time for base desires; you are busy all the time - and through this, temptations trouble us far less.
In these verses, Shlomo completes his first investigation: all of physical creation turns in circles, "what has been is what will be," there is nothing new under the sun and nothing of enduring permanence for man. Even the legacy he hopes to leave behind - "there is no remembrance of earlier generations" - offers him no true advantage. Any perceptive observer can arrive at this conclusion on his own. From there, he embarks on an inquiry that requires wisdom, presenting his credentials: "I, Kohelet, was king over Israel in Jerusalem" - king over a wise nation and in the city of wisdom, who did not sequester himself in an ivory tower but set his heart "to seek and to explore" among human beings. And his conclusion: "a bad business God has given to the sons of man to be afflicted with" - the toil of this world is not mere punishment, but a merciful strategy, like the parable of the king and the gold, like "cursed is the ground for your sake," and like the decree of "seedtime and harvest, cold and heat" following the Flood. Hashem preoccupies man with physicality so that he has no free time to sink into sins and desires, and in the end, he may return empty-handed of material acquisitions - but not of spiritual ones.