Introduction
In this part of the chapter, we examine two verses dealing with the power of evil speech and the limits of rebuke: the destructive power of scoffers within the city, contrasted with the power of the wise to turn away wrath; and on the other hand, the futile attempt to enter into debate with a fool, an attempt that ultimately brings no satisfaction, whether through anger or laughter.
"Scornful Men Inflame a City" - The Mockery That Burns Down the Town
אַנְשֵׁי לָצוֹן יָפִיחוּ קִרְיָה וַחֲכָמִים יָשִׁיבוּ אָף׃ (משלי כט, ח) - Scornful men inflame a city, but wise men turn away wrath. (Mishlei 29:8)
Rashi explains that yafichu ("inflame") comes from the root of fanning or blowing: like a person who blows on coals and rekindles the fire with the breath of his mouth, so scornful men inflame the city. The Vilna Gaon similarly explains that yafichu means burning down the city, like one who fans a charcoal fire. How so? Through their mockery, they bring harsh decrees, curses, and afflictions down from Heaven, Heaven forbid. This is what the verse means when it says, "Now do not mock, lest your bonds be strengthened" - where there is mockery, chastisement and suffering inevitably follow. Through their cynicism, scornful men burn down the city.
Korach: Why Did Specifically the Staffs Convince Them?
This idea emerges clearly from the rebellion of Korach. Korach challenged Moshe, and following the dispute, the two hundred and fifty men offering incense were burned, and then the earth swallowed Korach and his entire assembly. Yet despite this, the people still came with complaints: "You have killed the people of Hashem!" The resentment in the camp did not subside. It continued until the Holy One, Blessed is He, instructed that staffs be taken from each leader, and the one whose staff blossomed and produced almonds would be the one chosen by Hashem. Only then, "the complaints of the Children of Israel against Me subsided," and the murmuring ceased.
The question arises naturally: if it was so simple to quell the complaints, why was this not done from the beginning? Seeing unrest in the camp and that the people were agitated, why not tell them at the outset that every leader should bring a staff, Korach and his assembly would bring staffs, place them in the Mishkan, and whoever's staff blossoms is the chosen one? Even more puzzling: what ought to have been more convincing? Staffs with a few blossoms and almonds left inside the Mishkan where no one saw them, which Moshe brought out later - or two hundred and fifty men consumed by fire descending from Heaven, and an earth opening its mouth to swallow Korach and his company? Surely the fire and the opening of the earth are far more convincing! How is it that they did not convince the people, yet the wooden staffs did?
Rather, it has already been said, "Judgments are prepared for scorners," and, "A rebuke enters deeper into a discerning person than a hundred lashes into a fool." The only way to address scoffers is through judgments - blows and punishments. Why? Because as long as a person is in a state of mockery, anything you present to him becomes fuel for scoffing. Whatever proof you assemble, he will turn into a joke. And a joke is essentially a bypass around the intellect: if I had to contend rationally with your arguments, I could not, so I crack a joke and thereby bypass reason. I make fun of the person, ridicule his claims, and in doing so, avoid addressing them entirely. It is a quick and cheap tactic to dismiss arguments without ever having to engage with them, and that is precisely the scoffer's method.
Therefore, when Moshe Rabbeinu summoned Korach, Korach refused to come. Rashi explains: because he knew that Moshe would vanquish him in debate. Would he go there just to be defeated by reason? What did he do instead? He launched a public campaign: Come see how Moshe and Aharon are taking advantage of you, how they deceive everyone, how they extort a poor widow, and how they mistreat the nation. For had he confronted the real arguments, he would have had no case, so he resorted to cynicism and ridicule. That is why one punishment was fire and the other was being swallowed alive by the earth; some say Korach was both burned and swallowed, suffering a double punishment.
Only after this did the Holy One, Blessed is He, instruct to perform the miracle with the staffs. Had the miracle of the staffs been done at the outset, can you imagine what a spectacle Korach would have made of it? "Did you see Moshe? He takes some sticks and places them inside, where nobody could watch. We asked to go in and see, but he said entering the Mishkan is forbidden, it is the Holy of Holies! Who knows what he did in there? Moshe is no small agronomist either; he probably applied growth stimulants or tricks he knows." Korach would have known exactly how to turn it into a farce and tell everyone about the setup. Why, then, was it persuasive in the end? Because in the end, rationality returned; sanity returned. And how did it return? "Judgments are prepared for scorners." As long as a person is steeped in mockery, he thinks everything is a joke; once he is struck by harsh blows, he realizes life is no longer funny, and suddenly he turns serious. And when a person becomes serious, he can be convinced even by a wooden staff and a few blossoms; there is no longer a need for the earth to open its mouth or fire to rain down from Heaven.
The conclusion: mockery invites severe blows, because there is no reasoning with a scoffer. There is no way to persuade a scoffer until the smirk is wiped off his face. This is the meaning of "Scornful men inflame a city" - their cynicism burns down the city because it brings harsh afflictions upon it, as it says, "Do not mock, lest your bonds be strengthened." By contrast, "wise men turn away wrath" - just as it is said, "a wise man pacifies it." Through his righteousness, prayers, and good deeds, the wise person turns away anger and wrath from the city. Whereas the scoffer brings fury upon the town, the wise man, through his deeds and merit, atones and turns away wrath.
The Malbim's Explanation: Scornful Men Breathe Out Lies
The Malbim explains that "scornful men inflame a city" - through their mockery, they blow a spirit of wrath and tempest through the city, fanning lies, lashon hara, and anguish. According to his approach, this does not mean they cause troubles and disasters in the city, as the Vilna Gaon explains, but rather that they stir up anger and turmoil. The expression "mafi'ach" is like "mafi'ach kezavim" (one who breathes out lies), where the speaker puffs with his mouth; therefore, one who relates matters and blows with his mouth is called a mafi'ach.
One might call such people journalists or whatever one chooses: with their words, their lashon hara, their mockery, their biased reporting, and their abominable publications, they cause intrigue, hatred, disputes, slander, and heartbreak. They stir up great wrath in the city. By contrast, the wise, who conduct themselves according to the laws and ways of wisdom, know how to turn away wrath through their actions: everything they do is aimed at calming tempers, smoothing things over, preventing conflicts between people, and quelling quarrels. When there is wrath in the city, the wise know how to extinguish it. But scornful men not only fail to turn away wrath, they breathe out lies and a spirit of fury and storm into the city, inciting people to speak against one another and stirring up quarrels between neighbors, until the entire city is thrown into turmoil because of these scorners who agitate people against each other.
The Vilna Gaon brings another explanation, that "yofi'chu" is related to "pach yakush" (a snare or trap), and Ibn Ezra explains similarly: through scornful men, a snare is set for the city. By contrast, through the wise, the wrath of Hashem turns away from them, and they return in teshuvah. According to this explanation, the idea leans toward the Gaon's approach, yet not in the sense of burning the city, but in the sense of a snare spread over the city.
"If a Wise Man Contends with a Foolish Man" - A Pre-Lost Battle
אִישׁ־חָכָם נִשְׁפָּט אֶת־אִישׁ אֱוִיל וְרָגַז וְשָׂחַק וְאֵין נָחַת׃ (משלי כט, ט) - If a wise man contends with a foolish man, whether he rages or laughs, there is no rest. (Mishlei 29:9)
Rashi explains "nishpat" - he argues with a foolish man, and this leads to anger and laughter, with no satisfaction. That is: whether one shows him a stern face or a smiling face, there is no satisfaction in either case, and he finds no contentment. Whatever you do for him - nothing pleases him.
Amatziah and Achaz: Smiling Faces and Stern Faces
And so Chazal expounded. We find with Amatziah that the Holy One, blessed be He, showed him a smiling countenance and delivered Edom into his hand - favor and Divine assistance. And what did he do? "Now it came to pass, after Amaziah came from the slaughter of the Edomites, that he brought the gods of the children of Seir, and set them up to be his gods, and bowed down to them." Master of the Universe, your God defeated their gods, your God is mighty and their gods are weak, you conquered them - and yet you take their gods and make them your own gods? Surely you see that their god could not save his own people, so will he save you? How can you do such a thing? Hashem showed you a smiling countenance, you had siyata diShemaya, and you are so ungrateful that you go and bring their gods and worship them instead of the Holy One, blessed be He, Who granted you the victory! This is the meaning of "he laughed, and there is no rest" - it was not enough for Amatziah, and he went and worshipped idols.
Perhaps, then, one must deal angrily with the wicked? Chazal say: to Achaz, the Holy One, blessed be He, showed a stern face, delivering him into the hand of the kings of Aram. Not with a carrot, but with a stick - hoping that in this way he would return to Hashem and realize his error. And what happened? "For he sacrificed to the gods of Damascus... saying: Because the gods of the kings of Aram help them." He sacrificed to the gods of Damascus, reasoning: their god helps them, for otherwise, how did they conquer me and prevail over me? It must be a sign that their god is strong! This is the tragedy: whatever you do with the wicked, whether good or bad - nothing satisfies him. Therefore, even if a wise man contends with a foolish man, no good will ultimately come of it.
The Vilna Gaon's Explanation: The Judge Himself is Judged
The Vilna Gaon explains: when the wise man seeks to debate the fool, whether he is angry with him or laughs with him, the fool finds no rest - that is, he will return to his foolish ways, similar to the homily of Chazal. And he adds another interpretation: "A wise man contends with a foolish man" - when the wise man seeks to judge the fool, he himself is judged. How so? Because when the judge passes judgment on him, the fool immediately claims: "Know that this judge is a great villain; he did this, and he did that to me, and that is why he ruled against me!" - and he begins finding faults in the judge. Did you think that the mere fact that the judge sentenced him would help? It will not help, for now, on the contrary, he will find fault in you, attributing to you wicked deeds that are completely untrue, even worse than the deeds of the fool himself.
The Wagon Driver and His Horses: Showing a Boor a Miracle
One story illustrates the matter: when a person is an ignoramus and a boor, even if you bring him the most thrilling stories and even if he sees the most stirring things, he will remain in his ignorance and nothing in him will change.
It is told of the Rav of Berditchev that he wanted to hear stories about Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk. Rabbi Elimelech had already passed away many years earlier, and he searched for people who had lived in his time and could recount what they saw. The problem was that most of that generation had already passed on. People told him: there is an old wagon driver, advanced in years, who lived during Rabbi Elimelech's era and would even drive the chassidim to him; go meet him, perhaps he heard something, perhaps he went in to see him once. He traveled to him and began questioning him to probe his memory, but the man answered that he remembered nothing. After they jogged his memory a bit, he said: ah, yes, I remember. I was not a chassid, but once they pressured me to go in to see the Rebbe.
And what happened? His horse had been stolen. They told him: there is a tzaddik here, Rabbi Elimelech, you drive people here all the time - go in once, ask for a blessing, the Rebbe will help you, he even has ruach hakodesh. He said: what do I have to lose, my horse was stolen and I have already tried everything, I will go in to the Rebbe as well. He entered, and it was precisely at the time that the Rebbe was holding a gathering with the chassidim. At the gathering, they were saying l'chaim and drinking spirits. He walked in and saw the Rebbe and all the chassidim, each with a small cup of liquor, all drinking l'chaim. He walked straight up to the Rebbe and said to him: tell me, where are my horse and wagon? The Rebbe concentrated for a few minutes and said: they are in the forest in such-and-such a place, beyond the haystack back there. The Rav of Berditchev asked him: and was it really so? He replied: yes, just as he said, I went and found them there.
The wagon driver saw that the Rav of Berditchev was amazed by the ruach hakodesh, that he told him off the cuff, and said to him: I see that you are amazed at how I immediately knew that he would know where the horses were. Let me tell you. I saw a bunch of drunks sitting next to him, and I said to myself - these guys look to me like the ones who stole my horses; and if they are sitting there and he is the leader of the gang with them, he certainly knows where the horses are. And you see, I hit the bullseye - right on the spot he told me where they were. I am not saying he stole the horses, but he is one of the bunch and knows what goes on there, so I knew right away.
That is it: when you take a boor and show him a miracle, this is what he absorbs from the story. As far as he is concerned, that was the entire story, and do not even try to convince him otherwise, because it is a waste of time. And this is "a wise man contends with a foolish man" - even if you bring him the most inspiring and wondrous things, "whether he is angry or laughs, there is no rest," nothing will help you. On the contrary, he will even find faults in the wise man who judges him and rebukes him; to him, the wise man is the criminal. Therefore the Vilna Gaon teaches us: do not enter into any debate with the fool at all. It is futile to try to convince him, futile to appeal to his reason. This person has other things where the intellect is supposed to sit, and there is no point in trying to set him upon the path of truth.
Ralbag's Explanation: He Will Not Let You Finish Your Words
Ralbag explains that "contends with a foolish man" means conversing and debating with him - trying to convince him and straighten out his thinking. And he says: the fool will not allow the wise man to speak his words and finish them. And this is reality. When a person has no arguments of his own, he is also unwilling to let you state your arguments, for you might actually persuade. And what does he do? He will always cut in during your words, always trying to interrupt them and refute them right from the start, because if you state a complete thought you might convince, and that stresses him out. Therefore, "whether he is angry or laughs": sometimes he will get angry at what he hears from the wise man and will not let him finish, and sometimes he will laugh and scoff at the words, starting right in the middle of the wise man's words to mock them, imitate him, or present his words in a ridiculous light. "And there is no rest" - the wise man has no peace to complete his words and explain his intention properly. Thus we see: arguing with the fool is a battle lost from the start. Do not enter into a debate with him, for he will not let you finish your words and will not let you prove your arguments; he will interrupt you, mock you, get angry with you, and do everything so that you cannot say your piece.
An Example from the Media
Anyone who has ever been interviewed knows that in the media it works in precisely this way. When a guest whose views match the broadcaster's is interviewed, they give him all the time in the world, they do not ask him difficult questions, and if the news break arrives, they tell him: stay with us after the news, for surely you haven't finished everything you have to say, and you have important words for the nation dwelling in Zion. They will let him say all his words to completion. But if they bring on a rabbi or someone whose position is opposed, someone who wants to express a right-wing view or a stance in favor of the Torah-observant public - first of all, they will not let him finish. The moment he begins to speak, immediately: yes, but you know that your people did such-and-such, and yes, but you know that among your community there was such-and-such. And when he asks: let me speak, you asked questions, let me answer - the response is: I run the discussion here, I host the broadcast here. And when the person begins to sound compelling and things start to take a different turn, immediately: well, we have an obligation to our sponsors, we have the newsroom, thank you very much. And he also makes sure to bring him on two minutes before the newsroom, so that he can cut off his words, and there is certainly no public interest in hearing him after the news. This is "a wise man contends with a foolish man, whether he is angry or laughs, there is no rest" - sometimes he gets annoyed at what you say, sometimes he makes a mockery of what you say, and in the end you leave him with deep disappointment.
Metzudat David: Neither with Anger nor with Laughter - but by the Middle Path
Metzudat David explains that when the wise man enters into judgment with a wicked man, the wise man will find no satisfaction: when he wishes to rebuke him in a manner of anger, the fool will also become angry in return; and when he wishes to approach him at a time of laughter, the fool's heart becomes haughty because of it. In these words, he says something very true for anyone who has ever dealt with youth education, who is conscious of the complex difficulty he describes, and he finds all of this within the verse itself.
When one needs to educate a youth in the proper path, there are two approaches. There is a harsh approach - an approach of anger, strictness, and wrath. This approach generally proves to be very negative, for anger breeds anger. When one is angry and only rebukes, criticizes, and scolds all the time, it creates antagonism, sparks rebellion in the youth, and causes him to seek to throw off all restraint. You create a dynamic of anger, and in return you get angry feedback. In fact, this is natural for a youth, as the word na'ar (youth) is related to mitna'er (shaking off), looking for ways to shake off any commitment; and when you try to act with force and anger, you channel all his anger back toward yourself.
So what should we do - act only through benevolence and giving? Should we shower him with goodness, bestow gifts upon him, and show him a smiling countenance? But then what happens is that as a result of that smiling face, he begins to feel good about himself and does whatever he pleases, since no one rebukes him: even if he comes home late they smile at him, and even if he did severe things they accept it with understanding. In such situations he certainly will not correct his path; on the contrary - he understands that what he is doing is fine. And this is what is meant by: in a time of anger the fool also seized upon anger, and in a time of laughter his heart grew haughty because of it. Instead of seeing and feeling that he is doing wrong, he feels good about himself: look, what I am doing is great, and nobody yelled at me or rebuked me.
What, then, is the alternative? If we are dealing with an evil (a fool) - leave him alone, for with an evil, as we said, there is nothing that can be done. But if we are dealing with a youth, and "folly is bound in the heart of a youth" - meaning that the youth is a type of evil and has foolishness in his heart - one must know that the proper path is the middle path. Therefore Chazal did not say to act only with the left or only with the right, but rather: "Let the left push away and the right bring close." One must integrate both, and it is not without reason that the repelling force is the left: not merely that the left pushes away, but that the left hand is the weaker hand, and so pushing away must be done with the left hand; whereas the right hand is the stronger hand, so drawing close must be done with the right hand. That is to say, on the one hand there must be rebuke and strictness regarding negative deeds, but on the other hand, countering that, there must be far more love, affection, and warmth. Then there is a strong chance that you will succeed in guiding him onto the proper path. But if you adopt only an approach of distancing, or only an approach of drawing close - that is "whether he rages or laughs, there is no rest," for in the end you will find no satisfaction in these actions, as in both cases you will lose the student or the child.
The Malbim: Kesil, Peti, and Evil
The Malbim explains, as is his consistent approach throughout this book and indeed throughout Tanach, that there is a fundamental difference between a kesil, an evil, and a peti.
A kesil, as we have noted several times, is a person who knows the rules of wisdom yet follows the lusts of his heart. He may be a professor, but he acts against reason and follows his desire. He knows that one ought to act differently, yet he follows his heart's desires. He could be a cardiothoracic surgeon, and between operations he takes a cigarette to relax - such a person is a complete kesil, for he opens up lungs and sees with his own eyes what this does to people, yet he still continues. And even if he is number one in the country or the world, what does it matter? He is number one, a kesil. That is the definition of a kesil: he knows the rules of wisdom, yet acts in complete contradiction to them.
Therefore, says the Malbim, one who argues with a kesil will become angry with him. For this person deviates from the upright path deliberately, not out of a lack of knowledge. And when you come to debate him, it will cause irritation, because you are not presenting him with information he does not already know; on the contrary, he could even provide you with data you do not know about how bad what he is doing really is. And why does he continue? Because he feels like it - out of lust. It turns out that an argument with a kesil is intensely frustrating, because the kesil has no deficiency in knowledge, but rather a flaw in his will; therefore, he will only provoke anger.
The peti (the simpleton), says the Malbim, is a person whose heart is seduced and turns away from the rules of wisdom because he does not understand them. Here it is a matter of a lack of knowledge: "a fool does not understand this," "a brutish man does not know, nor does a fool understand this," "like a silly dove without understanding" - he has no heart, he does not comprehend and does not know; he is not like the kesil who knows and acts to the contrary, but rather he simply does not know. With such a person, there is laughter, and you can succeed in convincing him: if you show him a smiling, pleasant countenance, you will be able to explain the rules of wisdom to him until you genuinely influence him.
But the evil is neither a kesil nor a peti. Evil shares the letters of ulai ("perhaps"), and he is the skeptical type, the doubter: Who says? There is no proof for anything; to this day no one has provided me with definitive proofs, and anything is possible. Theoretically, philosophically speaking, maybe we are just the eye of a fish somewhere in the ocean - and he brings up theses from all sorts of imaginary notions, where everything is doubtful, nothing is certain, there are no proofs, and nothing is clear. That is the evil type: he casts doubt on everything, raising questions and wonderings about everything.
And when you come to debate the evil, on the one hand, he will be provoked to anger: even if one explains the rules of wisdom to him, he will not want to accept them, because it is not convenient for him. It is convenient for him to cast doubt on everything and for nothing to be clear, because when you come to prove something to me, you push me out of my comfort zone. I am very comfortable in my position; I am very comfortable with nothing being clear, so that I can do whatever I feel like doing. But the moment things begin to become clear, it begins to obligate. And what do I do when someone comes to prove things to me? I get irritated with him, because he is unsettling me from my convenient stance. Therefore, the evil will become agitated and cast doubts on whatever you say.
On the other hand, there will be laughter, because in simple terms one cannot say of him that he acts out of malice. Why? Because he casts doubt on the laws of wisdom, and regarding the laws of wisdom, as the Malbim has explained countless times from the beginning of Mishlei, there are no clear sensory signs or definitive proofs. For chochmah concerns morality, and what constitutes the correct moral path is received by tradition: we received it from Hashem, we received it through prophecy, we received it from Moshe Rabbeinu, we received it in the Torah. For every moral argument you present claiming that it is moral to act in a certain way, someone can come and argue that it is more moral to do the opposite. We need only look at the endless debate taking place in this country over who is more moral - the political right or the political left, with each side convinced that morality is entirely on its side. When discussing morality, it is exceedingly difficult to prove empirically that one path is more moral than the other.
It turns out, then, that on the one hand, an argument with the evil arouses anger, as one seeks to prove the truth to him while he finds it convenient to raise difficulties and ask who said so and where is the proof; on the other hand, he will laugh and scoff, for it is difficult to prove the laws of wisdom rationally, and consequently it is difficult to resolve his doubts, since there are no mathematical demonstrations for them. Consequently, says the Malbim, whether this way or that, "there is no rest" - you will find no peace or satisfaction in trying to set him straight and establish him in the paths of wisdom.
The Malbim explains that this applies to the deeper meaning as well: when Hashem seeks to bring the fool back in teshuvah, whether the Holy One, Blessed be He, punishes him or showers him with goodness, he remains entrenched in his doubts - who says, and what is the proof? You see a punishment? Who says it is from Hashem? After all, righteous people also suffered such punishments, and what, was that because they were wicked? No, this is not from Hashem, it has nothing to do with it, it is all coincidence, and I even checked and found several other such cases in history, and these things simply happen. He raises doubts about everything. It turns out that even when the Holy One, Blessed be He, seeks, as it were, to rebuke the fool, he cannot be rebuked, for this fool will find arguments and rationales in everything to justify continuing in his foolishness.
In summary:
The two pesukim teach us about the destructive power of evil speech and the limits of rebuke. "Scornful men inflame a city" - mockery ignites the city and burns it down, whether in the sense of decrees and suffering that follow in its wake (as the Vilna Gaon and Ibn Ezra explain, setting a trap for the city), or in the sense of fanning the flames of falsehood, lashon hara, wrath, and turmoil between one person and another (as the Malbim explains). In contrast, "but wise men turn away wrath," through their righteousness, their prayers, and their deeds that calm tempers and quell strife. And from the rebellion of Korach we learned that there is no point in speaking with a scorner, for he turns every proof into a joke, and only "judgments are prepared for scorners" restores sanity, at which point a staff and a few leaves are enough. Opposite this stands: "If a wise man contends with a foolish man, whether he rages or laughs, there is no rest" - whatever you do with him, like Amatzyahu who was received with a pleasant countenance, or Achaz who was received with an angry countenance, there is no rest; he will not let you finish your words, he interrupts, rages, and laughs, and in the end he will even find faults in the one judging him. Therefore, with a confirmed fool - leave him be; but with a youth who has foolishness bound in his heart - follow the middle path: the left hand pushes away while the right hand draws close, with measured rebuke and abundant love.