Introduction: Chapter 26 - Between a Quarrel Not Your Own and Instigators of Strife
In this part of the chapter, King Solomon deals with several harmful characters: one who intervenes in a quarrel that does not concern him, one who harms his fellow and excuses it by saying it was all "just a joke," and one who fans the flames of dispute among people. What they all have in common is that the damage they cause is immeasurably greater than any imagined gain they derive, and ultimately the harm rebounds upon themselves.
"Grabbing a Dog by the Ears" - Entering a Quarrel Not One's Own
מַחֲזִיק בְּאׇזְנֵי כָלֶב עֹבֵר מִתְעַבֵּר עַל רִיב לֹּא לוֹ׃ (יז) - Like one who seizes a dog by its ears is a passerby who meddles in a quarrel not his own. (17)
The cantillation notes indicate that there are two parts here: "Grabbing a dog by the ears," followed by "a passerby who meddles over a quarrel not his own." Rashi explains that *over* is related to *evrah*, meaning wrath and anger: a person who goes and gets involved in a quarrel that does not pertain to him at all is like someone who grabs a dog by the ears. After all, the dog was simply passing on its way, sniffing, wagging its tail, and moving along. But if you come and pull its ears, do not be surprised when you get bitten and find yourself looking for your hand! The dog was going its own way - what business did you have with it?
Our Sages expound this verse in reference to Yaakov and Eisav: Eisav was going on his way, yet Yaakov went and sent messengers to him, trying to appease and mollify him. Had he simply continued on his way, says the Midrash, nothing would have happened.
The Vilna Gaon explains: Someone who grabs a dog by its ears derives neither pleasure nor benefit from it. What did you gain? At best, a bite. The same is true of one who intervenes in a quarrel not his own: What did you gain? They will fight with you, curse you, and perhaps even strike you. Two people are quarreling, the matter has nothing to do with you - why force yourself into the fray just to take a blow yourself?
The Vilna Gaon offers an additional explanation: *over* is from the language of *aveirah* (sin). A person pursues greed to amass wealth and commits sins, excusing it: "It is not for me, but for livelihood, for my wife and children, or so that I will have plenty of money." And the Holy One, Blessed is He, becomes wrathful and angry with him. And what is this quarrel all about? Over something that will not remain his at all, as King David said: "Do not fear when a man grows rich, when the glory of his house increases; for in his death he will not take anything, his glory will not descend after him." Thus, a person invested his days and energy, and committed sins, for something that he leaves entirely behind, all while provoking the wrath and anger of the Holy One, Blessed is He, against himself. Is this not a "quarrel not his own"?
The Malbim explains: When someone grabs the ears of a passing dog - a dog that was not barking at him at all - he causes the dog to take an interest in him, which is not pleasant in the least. So too with one who meddles in a dispute not his own: the quarrel is the barking. No one was barking at you, you were not part of the story, but once you grabbed the ears of the barking adversary, he will end up barking at you. Even if you are not struck physically, you will suffer insults, humiliation, and disgrace. Someone will tell you: "Be quiet! Don't make me tell everyone what you did!" And why all this? Because you inserted yourself into a place where you did not belong.
It is important to emphasize: there are situations where "God seeks out the pursued," and one cannot remain indifferent. When you see someone persecuting his fellow, you certainly must step forward to help and rescue him, and one must not say, "They are fighting amongst themselves, so I will not get involved." This principle applies only when two people are quarreling, and you simply want to voice an opinion in favor of one of the sides - why bother? It is a quarrel that is not yours.
The Dispute Between Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz and the Yaavetz
In his time, Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz, author of *Yaarot Devash*, fell under suspicion from the Yaavetz (Rabbi Yaakov Emden), who examined amulets he had written and believed they contained allusions to Shabbetai Tzvi, may the name of the wicked rot - that false messiah who later converted to Islam and wrought tremendous devastation in Israel. The Yaavetz, who was uncompromising by nature and would brook no concessions where absolute truth was concerned, raised a great furor and opposed him with immense severity. The fire caught hold and consumed far and wide; entire communities divided, some siding with the Yaavetz and others with Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz. The leading Torah authorities of the generation addressed the matter, including the Vilna Gaon, and the majority sided with Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz, affirming that he was in the right and that there was no substance to the hints found by the Yaavetz. The Chida writes in his travel diary *Maagal Tov*, which he composed while serving as a rabbinic emissary (*shadar*), that during that period he did not want to travel to Europe at all - precisely so that he would not be asked to take a side in that great controversy.
It is told that Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz once arrived at a synagogue and heard people sitting and gossiping about him. They did not recognize him, as he appeared like a simple man, and in those days children did not have pictures of rabbis. He said to them: "May I ask you a question? I am no great scholar, but I have a difficulty in Chad Gadya." They burst into laughter: such an ignoramus, out of all the four questions, his difficulty is on Chad Gadya! He said to them: "The kid went along innocently, then a cat came and ate it - it turns out the cat is wicked. The dog came and retaliated against the cat - so the dog is righteous. If so, the stick is wicked, the fire is righteous for burning the stick, the water is wicked, the ox is righteous, the slaughterer is wicked, the Angel of Death is righteous - and concerning the Holy One, Blessed is He, who slaughtered the Angel of Death, we cannot even utter such words! How can this be?"
He said to them: "One must begin the story differently. There was a quarrel here between the kid and the cat, and 'one who grabs the ears of a dog is a passerby who meddles in a dispute not his own' - in this case, the dog itself is the meddler! You saw a cat and a kid fighting, why did you get involved in the story? Thus, it is not that the cat is wicked and the dog is righteous; rather, the dog is the wicked one, having meddled in a quarrel not his own. From that point on, the entire sequence is reversed, until the Holy One, Blessed is He, emerges as righteous." And his intention was clear: there is a dispute here between two giants of the generation, Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz and the Yaavetz (Rabbi Yaakov Emden), each holding fast to his approach - why are you sticking your heads between them? The wicked one is the one who steps in between and meddles.
Indeed, the sacred books state that those instigators around them are all in Gehinnom, whereas both the Yaavetz and Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz are in Gan Eden, for their dispute was for the sake of Heaven. It is also told concerning the Rebbe of Zvhil - as recorded in the sefer Mishnat HaGilgulim - that cats would enter his home and sleep on his bed, causing a great disturbance. Several times people asked to remove them, but he refused. When they pressed him, he said: "Do not harm them or bother them at all; these are reincarnations of people of stature - people from the era of the Yaavetz and Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz, disciples from both camps who stirred up the controversy and fanned the flames, speaking against one another. Therefore," he said, "I treat them gently, neither chasing them away nor striking them." He was a holy man, and a book written about his life leaves an indelible impression.
These matters apply to our own times as well. There are disputes between Torah giants, and they do not always agree: one sage holds that regarding the draft decree one should act this way, while another sage holds that one should act differently. But when a youth comes along and opens his mouth against a great Torah leader - one would hardly envy his Gehinnom. What business do you have in this matter? There is a debate between two giants; sit on the side. Both will receive reward, for each aimed for the truth and desired solely to bring honor to Hashem, and both will be in Gan Eden. But you, who insult the opposing side - who gave you permission? Even if you do not agree with his views, he is a great man, and silence is best for you.
"Am I Not Just Joking?" - The Harmer Disguised as a Jester
כְּמִתְלַהְלֵהַּ הַיֹּרֶה זִקִּים חִצִּים וָמָוֶת׃ (יח) כֵּן אִישׁ רִמָּה אֶת רֵעֵהוּ וְאָמַר הֲלֹא מְשַׂחֵק אָנִי׃ (יט) - Like a madman who shoots firebrands, arrows, and death, so is a man who deceives his fellow and says, "Am I not just joking?"
What is the meaning of mitlahleha? Rashi explains: like one who wearies himself, from the expression "and the land of Egypt grew weary [vatelah]" (Bereishit 47:13), which denotes fatigue and exhaustion. That is, a person who tires and strains himself to shoot firebrands - arrows of fire, as in "and by the sparks [uv'zikot] you kindled" (Yeshayahu 50:11), related to sparks of fire (zikukin de'nura) - and slingstones. Ibn Ezra explains ke'mitlahleha as one who acts foolishly, from the concept of folly, like "their counsel was made foolish." And the Metzudat David explains: like a madman who hurls sparks, arrows, and deadly weapons.
The Gra notes that two distinct things are mentioned here: "shoots firebrands" - fire, as well as "arrows and death" - for when they wanted an arrow to kill with certainty rather than merely wound, they would smear and dip it in venom, so that anyone struck by it died immediately.
The Malbim explains that mitlahleha derives from the root t-l-h, which is an anagram of heital (to mock or deceive), following the pattern of keves-kesev, simlah-salmah, lahak-kahal. That is, a person who toys with and deceives his friend: at first he shoots firebrands of fire that burn his clothes, then arrows that cause wounds, and finally arrows smeared with deadly poison that kill. All this serves as the setup for the parable: so is a man who deceives his fellow, enticing and inciting his companion away from paths of life onto paths of death; and when his fellow realizes what is happening, he tells him, "No, it was just a joke, not serious - 'am I not just joking?'"
The Gra, in his characteristic approach, applies these verses to character refinement and spiritual service: at first, the evil inclination says to a person, "Come, let us take our fill of love," playing with him for the moment and deceiving him. It gives him a good feeling through falsehood, desires, and materialism, telling him, "I only seek your good; I just want you to be happy. Those religious zealots always say do not do this and do not do that, suffocating you and giving you nothing - whereas I am liberal, I am with you, I only want what is good for you." But afterward, it shoots firebrands, arrows, and death at him. For who awaits him Up Above? The yetzer hara itself: it is the Satan, it is the Angel of Death, it is the yetzer hara, it is all one. The very one who showed him a smiling face here like a beloved friend, appearing as a friend in his moment of pleasure, is the one who will judge him there and shoot deadly arrows at him. And not only there, but even here in this world: it is not the serpent that kills, but sin that kills.
The Gra adds: three punishments befall a person. "Firebrands" - this is the fire of Gehinnom, as in "and by the sparks [uv'zikot] you kindled," sparks of fire. "Arrows" - this is Kaf HaKela (the hollow of the sling), for like an arrow he is slung from one end of the world to the other. "And death" - for scorpions and bitterness are there, and they give him that bitterness to consume; as soon as he touches it, he immediately falls and perishes. The yetzer hara brings these three judgments upon him, even while showing him a smiling face and telling him that everything is solely for his benefit, allowing him what others forbid - yet ultimately, the person pays a very steep price for that temptation.
And from here, this applies to human beings as well: "We're just playing," "just a little fun," "it was only a joke, I had no intention of making him secular, G-d forbid." True, you had no ill intention, you were only playing - but you led him straight to the brink of the abyss.
"Where There Is No Whisperer, Strife Ceases" - The Fuel That Feeds Dispute
בְּאֶפֶס עֵצִים תִּכְבֶּה אֵשׁ וּבְאֵין נִרְגָּן יִשְׁתֹּק מָדוֹן׃ (כ) - Where there is no wood, fire goes out; and where there is no whisperer, strife ceases.
Just as when wood runs out and the logs are spent, the fire in the hearth goes out - so it is when there is no whisperer (nirgan). And who is a nirgan? Rashi explains: a person of lashon hara, who fans the flames of discord between disputing parties. This is that type who says: "Not that I care, and not that I want to interfere, it really doesn't concern me, but I saw what he did to you and it truly pained me; I was hurt as if he hurt me personally, I was in shock." And some even add with pious solemnity: "May Hashem forgive me, but I just want to tell you that this is terrible." When there is no such person fanning the flames of the quarrel - strife ceases.
The Gra explains this with great depth: Gehinom burns solely from the wicked of this world. What fuels Gehinom? The wicked power it; as if they have a gas line running from down here directly upward, supplying it fuel straight from their transgressions, without any reservoir or delay. As in the historical event when Chazal relate that they captured the yetzer hara and nullified it for a time, and Gehinom went out - fuel stopped being supplied; no fuel, no Gehinom. For sin down here is the fire of lust and the fire of transgression, one corresponding to the other: this fire creates the fire Above.
And this is what the verse means: "Where there is no wood, fire goes out" - when there are no wicked people (for the wicked in this world are called "wood"), the fire of Gehinom goes out, because the wicked are the wood fueling Gehinom. "And where there is no whisperer" - when there is no instigator of strife, there will be no prosecution (kitrug) on High. For when there is dispute in this world, there is accusation Above; and when there are informers down here, there are accusers denouncing us up there.
And as Chazal said: "Ephraim is bound to idols; let him alone." Even though they serve idols, they are united. So too in the Generation of the Dispersion (Dor Haflagah), when they were united, the Holy One, blessed be He, said: "Behold, they are one people, and they all have one language... and now nothing that they propose to do will be withheld from them," because the earth was of one language and shared purpose. Therefore, the remedy was to disperse them: for the wicked, dispersion is beneficial for them and beneficial for the world, as unity among them is destructive and dispersion is positive. But for Israel, on the contrary - when we are united, "let him alone."
Come and see in the case of Achav: Scripture records that his sins were greater than those of Yerovam; he brought Izevel daughter of Etbaal from the Sidonians and her four hundred prophets of Baal, and they hunted the prophets and slaughtered them - horrific and terrible. And yet, because there was peace among them, as it were, the Holy One, blessed be He, did not harm him. In contrast, in the days of Shaul, they would go out to battle and fall, because there was discord among them and there were informers: "The Ziphites came up to Shaul... saying, Is not David hiding with us?" and the like. And when they informed on one another, they went to battle against the Philistines and the Philistines prevailed. Yet in the days of Achav there was peace among them - and from where do we learn this? From Ovadiah, who recounted that he hid fifty prophets in a cave and no one gave them away. Is it conceivable that fifty men are hiding in a cave and no one knows? Rather, people knew, but no one went to inform. When there are no informers down below, there is no accusation Above. But when there are accusers here, one speaking against another and against a third, each man's sword against his fellow - the chief prosecutor Above also has plenty to say. This is "and where there is no whisperer, strife ceases": as it were, the Holy One, blessed be He, holds no contention against us, and there is no lashon hara or accusation leveled against us.
The Malbim explains that madon (strife) stems from the root of din and diyun (judgment and litigation): a quarrel that stirs up issues leading the parties to litigate before a judge. Hatred is what stirs up contention, for when there is hatred between people, every petty matter turns into a dispute: why did you do that, why did he build out a balcony, why did he mount the air conditioner here, why is it dripping on my laundry - no one is willing to overlook anything, and every minor issue ends with "see you in court": small claims, medium claims, and major lawsuits.
And the Malbim defines the nirgan (grumbler) in the sense familiar to us: a person who complains perpetually. Nothing is ever good enough for him; he always has grievances and will always find flaws. Even if you do everything perfectly, he will dig something up from under the ground: why didn't they also do this, and why didn't they bring that as well. And he is always convinced that his neighbor acted out of spite: "He saw that I was about to take down my laundry, so he deliberately hung soaking wet laundry above me." With him, nothing happens innocently; everything is intentional. Such a person stirs up contention. "And where there is no complainer, strife ceases," for there is not a lawsuit and litigation at every turn. Just as with no wood the fire goes out - for wood is what causes the fire to grow - so too the chronic complainer is what inflames argument and strife, causing everything to devolve into legal judgment and dispute.
"As Charcoal to Burning Embers" - Three Haters and Three Punishments
פֶּחָם לְגֶחָלִים וְעֵצִים לְאֵשׁ וְאִישׁ מִדְיָנִים לְחַרְחַר רִיב׃ (כא) - As charcoal to burning embers and wood to fire, so is a contentious man to kindle strife.
Rashi explains according to the plain meaning: charcoal is meant to rekindle dimming embers, wood is meant to feed a fire, and a contentious man is poised to stir up strife.
The Vilna Gaon makes a precise distinction between charcoal and wood: Charcoal (pecham) is that which has already been burned and extinguished, and when brought near a fire, it turns into glowing embers (gechalim). That is to say, it is the exact same substance: when it burns it is called embers, and when extinguished it is called charcoal. Therefore, if one wants coals to roast over, it is enough to bring charcoal near the fire with a bit of kindling, and immediately one has glowing coals. But if one wants to build up a large fire and flame, for heating or for a bonfire - wood is far better suited for that, fresh wood that has not burned at all, which ignites and creates a much greater blaze. And to kindle strife, for strife is like fire - for this purpose serves the contentious man, the man of quarreling.
The Gra explains: There are three categories of enemies of Torah scholars. Our Sages said that the enemies of talmidei chachamim are the amei ha'aretz (the unlearned), their wives even more so than them, and one who studied and then departed (shana u'feirash) is the most severe of all. Rabbi Akiva testified about himself: When I was an am ha'aretz, I used to say, "Who will give me a talmid chacham, that I may bite him like a donkey!" His students said to him, "Rebbe, say like a dog!" He replied, "No, a dog does not break the bone, but a donkey breaks even the bone." And anyone who does not know who the amei ha'aretz of our generation are - let him see who harbors such "love" for Torah scholars; these are generally people in the media and the like, and there is no need to elaborate.
On the surface, such a statement does not seem to align with what is said about Rabbi Akiva, that he was modest and refined even when he was an am ha'aretz, for "refined" implies good character traits, and someone who says, "Bring me a Torah scholar and I will break his bones," is neither modest nor refined. However, Tosafot find merit and offer a defense regarding the hatred of the amei ha'aretz toward Torah scholars. In the language of the Mishnah, a Torah scholar is called a chaver, and anyone who has studied Seder Zera'im and Taharot knows that there was a tremendous separation between the chaverim and the amei ha'aretz: the garments of an am ha'aretz are considered midras (a source of tread-defilement) for the perushim (the scrupulous), and a chaver could not sit with him or touch his clothing, as the clothing contracted midras impurity as if a zav had sat upon it, lest his niddah wife had sat upon it; the Sages even decreed ritual impurity on the am ha'aretz himself, and his saliva was treated like the saliva of a zav, since the amei ha'aretz were not proficient in the laws of purity and impurity. Thus, a clear barrier existed between them: a talmid chacham could not sit next to him or be in close proximity to him, and everything created a separation.
And how was this perceived by the am ha'aretz? As aloofness and arrogance: "You are an elite who refuses to associate with me." From this, antagonism and hatred were born, yet this hatred stemmed from a misunderstanding. The am ha'aretz believed that the talmid chacham withdrew from him because it was beneath his dignity to rub shoulders with him, whereas in reality, he withdrew solely out of a genuine concern for ritual impurity. This is how Tosafot explain the matter regarding Rabbi Akiva.
In any event, the Gra says, there are three enemies. The first is the amei ha'aretz. The second is their wives, who are even harsher than they are. And anyone who has had occasion to debate with amei ha'aretz and their wives sees that this is true: often the husband himself might be open to coming to listen and even attend a seminar, but the wife will refuse vehemently: "No way! Those religious people! Why should I have to cover my hair? Why this, and why that?" Aside from what has been discussed several times, that man represents the aspect of chassadim (lovingkindness) and woman represents the aspect of dinin (strict judgments), and sometimes it is not mere judgment, but harsh judgment (dina kashya). And the third is one who learned and departed, the most severe of all: a person who once studied, who understood the concepts, and the moment he abandoned it, he became worse than anyone. Regarding Elisha Acher, the teacher of Rabbi Meir, the Yerushalmi records that after he left the fold, he would murder infants, Heaven forbid; some say he handed them over to be killed, and some say he murdered them himself. One sees that someone who learned and turned away does not simply become a normal, neutral person, but becomes far worse than he was before.
From this perspective, the Gra interprets the entire verse: A talmid chacham, while engrossed in Torah, is called fire - "Is not My word like fire? says Hashem." And when he studied and then left - he was like wood that once held fire, and now that he has departed, he becomes charcoal, which has already burned. And where does the charcoal end up? "Charcoal to embers" - to the burning coals on high, to Gehinnom. "And wood to fire" - these are the amei ha'aretz themselves, who will arrive at the fire of Gehinnom. "And a contentious man to kindle strife" - these are their wives, who constantly stir up strife, and "to kindle strife" (lecharachar riv) alludes to Kaf HaKela (the Slingshot of the soul). Thus, each of the three categories receives its fitting retribution.
In summary: The verses before us warn against three interconnected dangers. One who interferes in a quarrel that is not his own is like one who seizes a passing dog by its ears: he gains no benefit from it, earning only barks, insults, and bites; therefore, in disputes between great people, silence is your best course. One who deceives his fellow and excuses it by saying, "I was only joking!" shoots sparks, arrows, and death at him; this is precisely how the yetzer hara operates, showing a smiling face while ultimately sentencing a person to the fire of Gehinnom, to Kaf HaKela, and to the bitterness of death. And the talebearer, whether an instigator of strife and speaker of lashon hara or a chronic complainer, is the wood that stokes the fire: when he is removed, strife ceases, and there is no accusation below and no accusation Above.