Chapter 28 of Mishlei opens with a series of verses addressing the balance of power between the wicked and the righteous within society: the power of a single wicked person to harm the many, the power of the righteous to protect even the individual, and what a nation looks like when it transgresses and loses its leadership. We will follow the order of the verses and present the explanations of Rashi, the Vilna Gaon, the Ralbag, and the Malbim, each of whom opens up a different perspective on the text.
נָסוּ וְאֵין־רֹדֵף רָשָׁע וְצַדִּיקִים כִּכְפִיר יִבְטָח׃ - The wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are confident as a young lion.
Rashi explains: The wicked will flee when the day of their calamity and downfall arrives, even though no one is pursuing them, as it says in the Torah, "and you shall flee when none pursues you." In other words, the wicked have no endurance. In contrast, the righteous person is "confident as a young lion" - he has a brave heart and trusts in the Holy One, Blessed be He, just like a young lion that is confident in its strength, except that the righteous person trusts in Hashem to rescue him from all distress.
The Vilna Gaon explains along similar lines: the wicked flee even when no one is chasing them, while the righteous are confident like a young lion. However, the Gra notes the grammatical shift in the verse: regarding the wicked, the verb "nasu" (fled) is in the plural while "rasha" (wicked person) is singular; regarding the righteous, "tzaddikim" is plural while the verb "yivtach" (is confident) is singular. If the verse speaks of a single wicked person, it should speak of a single righteous person; and if it speaks of many righteous people, it should speak of many wicked people. Why this shift?
The Gra answers, and this is also the direction of the Malbim: "The wicked flee when no one pursues" means that because of the presence of a single wicked person, the multitude flees, even when there is no pursuer. In other words, a single wicked individual possesses such destructive influence that he inflicts immense harm upon the many, forcing the entire community to flee without being pursued. On the other hand, "the righteous are confident as a young lion": when there are many righteous people, each and every person - even an individual - is as confident as a young lion. That is why it does not say "yivtechu" (they shall be confident in the plural), for had it been written that way, we might have thought that only the community as a whole can rely on the merit of the righteous. Instead, it says "yivtach" (he shall be confident), teaching that even an individual can rely on the righteousness of the tzaddikim and be saved through their merit. Thus, the entire verse addresses the state of the community: if there is even one wicked person, the entire community suffers and flees; but if there are many righteous people, even the individual benefits, remaining confident without fear or dread.
The commentator cites in the name of the Vilna Gaon that he was asked the question posed by the holy Zohar: "The righteous are confident as a young lion" - yet tzaddikim are not overconfident in their righteousness, nor are they sure they are worthy of a miracle, and they do not rely on their good deeds! As we saw with Yaakov Avinu, who always feared "lest sin cause" a downfall, wondering if he was unworthy. How, then, can it be said that the righteous person is confident?
The Gra replied: A "kefir" is a young lion cub. When the Torah speaks of an "aryeh," it refers to a full-grown lion, whereas a "kefir" is young. What gives the young lion cub its confidence? It has a father lion and a mother lioness, and it also has grandparents. It is calm and confident even though many beasts are stronger than it, because if anyone attempts to harm it, the father lion will protect it. This is the meaning of "the righteous are confident as a young lion": if you have righteous ancestors - righteous parents and grandparents - you walk with the confidence of a young lion. While the righteous person never relies on his own merits, he certainly possesses the merit of his ancestors (zechut avot), and it is upon that merit that he relies.
בְּפֶשַׁע אֶרֶץ רַבִּים שָׂרֶיהָ וּבְאָדָם מֵבִין יֹדֵעַ כֵּן יַאֲרִיךְ׃ - Because of the transgression of a land, its leaders are many, but by a person of understanding and knowledge, stability will long endure.
This is a verse everyone remembers whenever a government is formed: they add another minister from here and another minister from there to appease this party and that one, until a master carpenter is needed to lengthen and widen the cabinet table so there is room for everyone. But what is the true, simple meaning?
Rashi explains: It is a calamity for a land when its officers are numerous, pursuing only their own unjust gain. Why do so many want to be officers? Because every officer gains benefit and profit: taxes, a high salary, sycophants, and henchmen doing his bidding. It turns out that a multitude of officers and ministers is proof of the land's transgression, for they pursue their personal gain, and things are done unlawfully and improperly. "Yet through a man of understanding and knowledge, it will endure" - in the merit of a decent person, retribution is postponed, and therefore they are not stricken immediately. According to Rashi, "it will endure" (ya'arich) means that Hashem will delay bringing the retribution.
The Vilna Gaon explains the verse as sin and its punishment: "For the transgression of a land" - this land contains sinners, and what is its punishment? That Hashem multiplies its rulers. And as it is written, "From the reign of a hypocritical man, from the snares of the people" (Iyov 34:30): if you see a hypocrite reigning, it is because of the snares of the people, because of the sins and transgressions in their hands. The sins are what cause an unworthy person to reign. And because of this, everyone does what is right in his own eyes, for its rulers are many; this one is connected to this minister, and that one to another minister, with no single leader and no unified leadership - and through this, criminals and the wicked sprout up and multiply.
What is "a man of understanding and knowledge"? The Vilna Gaon notes that this pair is already familiar to us: "A brutish man does not know, nor does a fool understand this" (Tehillim 92:7). And what is said there? Regarding "When the wicked blossom like grass, and all workers of iniquity flourish" - they do not know and do not understand that all this is only "to be destroyed forever." A person sees the wicked multiplying and does not understand that this is to their detriment; it arouses questioning in him: He is against Hashem, so why does he have abundance, blessing, and success? But one who understands and knows - knows that this is his punishment, and that this flourishing is merely the blossoming of grass.
And the parable is precise: grass is the first thing that grows after the rain. Sometimes one enters an untended yard or an open field and sees grass three feet high - it flourishes wildly and very quickly. But with the very first intense sun, it all withers and dries up, turning into a field of thorns. Grass flourishes quickly, and with the first sun or the slightest pest, it is completely ruined. The tzaddik is not like that: "The righteous shall blossom like a date palm" - until it blossoms one's soul almost departs, taking years until it grows and bears fruit; but once it grows, first of all it endures for a long time and for years, and second of all its fruits are sweet fruits, not thistles and thorns that sprout quickly and perish quickly.
According to the Vilna Gaon, for one who understands and knows this and is not swayed by the flourishing of the wicked - "its base will endure" (ken ya'arich). Ken has the connotation of a base or pedestal, as in "its base" (cano), which the Targum renders as "its base" (yath basiseih), and just as in spoken Hebrew ken means a stand or base. The righteous man of understanding and knowledge will establish a foundation and a base for the city: he will fight against the sinners and against the multitude of ministers who seek only to benefit their sycophants, and he will prolong and establish the city's base in order to grant it endurance against those wicked people who rose to power through the transgression of the land.
The Malbim explains that the verse deals with rebellion: a country rebelling against its king. "For the transgression of a land" - the land rebels against its king and rises up to revolt against him, and through this, "its princes are many." You thought you rectified things, you thought you brought peace and tranquility - know that the result is a proliferation of ministers. The Malbim's phrasing is precise and wonderful: they think they are throwing off the yoke of one man, and through this, many tyrannical rulers arise over them, and all of them rule and oppress them.
Reality illustrates this well. Look at what happened in Syria: there was one leader, and under him there was quiet - both for us and for the people living there. Since then, hundreds of thousands have died there: at his hand, at the hands of ISIS, at the hands of Iran which entered there, at the hands of Russia, the coalition, and whoever else. It is a bleeding land. As long as there is one leader - even if he is deranged, insane, and megalomaniacal - there is someone holding the reins, someone to talk to, someone to make agreements with, and someone who takes responsibility for the country. The world's great fear was that Syria would splinter into warring factions and militias, for by its nature it is not really a single unified country but fragmented tribes, and only by force of arms did Assad the father stage a coup and seize power. The moment they rebelled against the king, each faction wanted control over its own territory and tribe - and consequently, "its princes are many." And so it was in Iraq, in Libya, and in every place where there was a single president, tyrannical but in control, and they rebelled against him.
For "will endure" (ya'arich), the Malbim offers an original explanation: not like Rashi, that it will delay the retribution from coming, and not like the Vilna Gaon, that he will establish the city's base, but from the root of arukah, meaning healing and remedy. A person of understanding who knows the right path of justice can halt the raging tide of rebellion and bring healing to the land, so they realize that this rebellion will not only be useless, but will cause a severe and dreadful fragmentation: instead of one ruling over you, many will rule over you, and instead of appeasing one, you will have to appease many, which is a far worse situation.
גֶּבֶר־רָשׁ וְעֹשֵׁק דַּלִּים מָטָר סֹחֵף וְאֵין לָחֶם׃ - A poor man who oppresses the destitute is a sweeping rain that leaves no food.
Rashi explains "a poor man" (gever rash) as an ignorant judge (dayan am ha'aretz). It seems Rashi bases this on the word gever denoting greatness and rash denoting poverty: he is indeed great, a judge, yet poor in Torah knowledge. Consequently, he oppresses the destitute, for in the cases he adjudicates he perverts justice and is not deliberate in judgment. He is thus like a sweeping rain that leaves no bread: when one sows, one must let the seeds sprout to produce wheat; but if a sweeping rain falls after sowing - in Chazal's words, "his field was swept away" (nistachfah sadeh) - there is no bread at all, because the rain swept away the clods of earth along with the seeds and everything one labored and toiled for. So too, this impoverished judge, who oppresses the poor through an unjust ruling, is like a sweeping rain that produces no fruit.
The Minchat Shai notes that there is a textual variant without the letter vav: "A poor man oppresses the destitute" (gever rash oshek dalim). Based on this, the Vilna Gaon explains: he oppresses the destitute in order to become wealthy, and he is like a sweeping rain - just as rain sweeps away trees and uproots them with great force without benefiting them, so is this person. Notice the sharp insight: he himself will remain poor, and in his own home there will be no bread or clothing, and nothing will be left for him. You think you will profit from extortion? You yourself are "a sweeping rain that leaves no bread." This is measure for measure: you oppressed the poor - and you will have no bread.
Ralbag makes a keen observation: it is not for nothing that this is compared to rain. It could have been compared to other destructive forces - to a storm or a tempestuous wind that scatters the seeds. However, rain is primarily intended to be beneficial, and only when it comes as torrential downpours and sweeping floods does it wash everything away, so that not only is it of no benefit, but it turns into destruction. One can say of a wind that it only causes harm; rain, however, comes to saturate the earth and bring benefit. This is the wisdom of the parable: the rain's primary purpose is to nurture the crops, yet because of the excessive amount it gives them, it becomes the very instrument of their destruction.
And what is Ralbag speaking of? Man's material acquisitions. A person chases after acquisitions: a house, a car, property, wealth, reputation, and honor - all of these are illusory acquisitions, the possessions of this world. And observe: material acquisitions are necessary for a person; one needs a place to live, and one needs to travel from place to place when there is a genuine need. That is the rain that saturates the earth and nurtures the crops. But if, instead of steady rain, you bring an immense torrent - it washes over, sweeps away, and destroys. So it is with possessions: if you use them for your basic needs, how wonderful - you have a home and a livelihood, a wife and children whom you raise in Torah, and everything is splendid. But if you stop pursuing Torah and start chasing acquisitions - more money, more wealth, more success, more riches - they become a sweeping rain. Do not think that if a little water saturates the plants, a lot will saturate them even more; a lot will sweep them away. A modest amount is beneficial, while an excess is destructive. All the more so when wealth is acquired through extortion: had you earned it fairly, that would be one thing; but when it comes through oppression, it is a sweeping rain for another reason, because whatever is acquired through extortion brings only harm, leaving him completely destitute.
Metzudat David notes: Does the wicked person seek to extort only the destitute? On the contrary, there is far greater profit in extorting the rich. Rather, Scripture speaks of common reality, for the rich man will not allow his wealth to be stolen and is stronger than the oppressor. The wealthy man has security cameras everywhere, a fortified wall, double-bolted gates, a security firm guarding his business and his villa - it is a fortress, and not easy to extort. But it is far easier to slip into a ground-floor apartment left with an open window, and take from the poor soul the welfare check he just received. And speaking of cameras, someone once remarked: I remember when I was a child, a person could walk into a grocery store with half a lira and come out with ice cream, a popsicle, pretzels, Bissli, and Bamba - everything. And today? Today you cannot make a move, there are cameras everywhere.
Malbim continues the line of interpretation from the previous verse. There we saw that rebelling against the king brings no benefit; instead, it brings "many rulers," so that instead of one ruler, many rule over you. Here, Malbim adds: sometimes even the many ministers who arose after toppling the king cannot succeed in governing the people; rather, the rashim - the impoverished masses among the populace - prevail in their rebellion. Then there is neither a king nor ministers; in short, each person does what is right in his own eyes. The ministers thought they would take the throne, but they do not always succeed, for the people say: Did I stage a revolution just to accept you? I staged a revolution for the rule of the people, to be free, so that no one tells me what to do.
Malbim notes the precise distinction between a rash (destitute) and a dal (impoverished): a rash is worse off than a dal. A rash has nothing at all, and it is the general term for utter destitution - as in, "Like the impoverished and the destitute, we have knocked at Your doors" (k'dalim u-khe-rashim dafaknu daltekha). A dal, on the other hand, is one who once had money and lost his possessions, and his situation is sometimes still relatively decent. Thus, those rashim, who are the masses of the people, go and oppress the dalim.
This was precisely what happened in the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. The lowest strata of the people, the hard-pressed working class, who had lived under the terrible oppression of the Czars and the wealthy nobility, encouraged by the revolutionaries - went and plundered the rich, took their wealth, and burned their homes and estates. When given the opportunity, they staged a revolution, and the wealthy fled, sometimes with only the clothes on their backs, sometimes with barely their lives, and sometimes they failed even at that, being murdered on the spot. There was horrific chaos: they entered homes with pitchforks and axes, killing and slaughtering. The class divide had been immense, and they sought vengeance against all those who had exercised absolute rule over them.
Thus, the situation does not stop at "many are its princes": the land may continue to transgress, and the impoverished will rob those who have been reduced to poverty, each ruling over his fellow. The situation is then comparable to a sweeping rain - like mighty waters whose torrent cannot be halted, since the masses numbered in the millions and could not be restrained - until everything is washed away and there is no bread.
We have learned three fundamental principles in these verses. First: a single wicked person has enough power to cause an entire community to flee with no one pursuing, whereas many righteous people protect even an individual, and the righteous man is confident like a young lion - not by his own merit, but through the merit of the Avos. Second: "Through the transgression of a land, many are its princes" - the proliferation of rulers is the punishment of the land for its transgression; one who understands and knows that the flourishing of the wicked is like grass that quickly withers is the one who will establish the city's foundation and bring about its healing, realizing that casting off the yoke of a single king brings many oppressive tyrants in his place. Third: one who oppresses the poor is like a sweeping rain - a power intended to bring benefit that turned destructive, and in the end he himself is left with no bread. So it is with the acquisitions of this world: in proper measure they are rain that nourishes, but in excess and through exploitation they become a torrent that sweeps everything away.