Chapter 11 of Mishlei deals primarily with the differences in character traits between the righteous person and the wicked, between the upright and the treacherous. In this section of the chapter, we arrive at three verses that address practical conduct in interpersonal relationships: keeping a secret, the process of decision-making and consultation, and caution when entering into a financial guarantee (arvut). These three verses, in King Solomon's characteristic style, are stated as clear practical guidance, but concealed within them is also profound instruction regarding the battle against the yetzer hara and the responsibility assumed by those who teach and judge.
הוֹלֵךְ רָכִיל מְגַלֶּה־סּוֹד וְנֶאֱמַן־רוּחַ מְכַסֶּה דָבָר׃ (יג) - A talebearer reveals secrets, but one of faithful spirit conceals a matter (13).
The Vilna Gaon explains: Someone who reveals a secret entrusted to him should be regarded in your eyes as a talebearer (holech rachil). That is to say, if you see a person with whom a secret was deposited and he passes it along to others, know that there is no difference between him and one who goes about gossiping and carrying tales from one person to another. And who is "one of faithful spirit"? A person who conceals a matter. Even regarding something that is not strictly a secret, but rather something he was simply not told to repeat, he does not tell. He is capable of mastering his spirit, his desires, and his impulses. You can rely on such a person and tell him whatever you wish, for he is faithful of spirit and will conceal the matter.
Conversely, if you see a person who is a talebearer, who talks about this person to that person and that person to this one, whose tongue has no restraints and who possesses no brakes, know that he will also reveal secrets. Be careful not to tell him confidential things, because very soon the entire neighborhood will know about it. There are people about whom those who know them say: If you want to publicize something, do not waste money putting an ad in the newspaper, just tell him! And especially if you want it to spread rapidly, tell him, "Do not tell anyone" - and then it travels express; in a flash, everyone will know about it.
The Malbim and Rabbeinu Yonah explain the verse along the same lines: A person who is a talebearer is naturally inclined to reveal his fellow's secret. A secret is like a deposit (pikadon) - your fellow has, as it were, entrusted his spirit, his private matters, into your safekeeping. And just as a person does not deposit valuables with someone who is untrustworthy, so too you should not entrust a secret to someone who is not faithful. When you see a person who gossips, know that he is untrustworthy in spirit to be entrusted with a secret.
The Malbim adds: Later in the book, the inverse is also stated - "One who reveals secrets goes about as a talebearer." If you see a person who reveals secrets, deduce from this that he is also a gossip. The reason: one who reveals secrets is incapable of restraining his mouth; whatever weighs on his stomach churns within him until he immediately blabs it out. Consequently, if he has some sensational news about your neighbor, he will come and tell that to you as well, having no qualms about doing so. In contrast, one of faithful spirit not only refrains from revealing secrets, but actively endeavors to conceal and hide the matter. All the more so will he not go about peddling gossip to expose his fellow's private affairs, and all the more so will he not gossip about him to speak disparagingly of him.
בְּאֵין תַּחְבֻּלוֹת יִפָּל־עָם וּתְשׁוּעָה בְּרֹב יוֹעֵץ׃ (יד) - Where there are no strategies a people falls, but salvation lies in an abundance of counselors (14).
The Vilna Gaon says: "Where there are no strategies a people falls" - if one does not devise strategies before going to war, a nation will inevitably fall. And why does it specifically say "a people" (am)? To teach you that even if you have a vast multitude of people to wage war with, if there are no strategies, that people will fall. Even a great nation will fall on the battlefield. As we saw in the wars fought by the Arab nations against us: numerically they held a tremendous advantage, and although the miracle was certainly from the Holy One, Blessed be He, Who was with us, the principle holds true - "For by wise guidance you shall wage your war."
And what is the meaning of "salvation lies in an abundance of counselors"? The Gra explains: If there is a single individual who heads all the military forces, at whose word they go out and at whose word they come in, and he consults no one and listens to no one - even if he is exceptionally wise and shrewd - there is a high likelihood that he will fall. Why? Because no matter how wise and learned a person may be, it is impossible for him to foresee every possibility, every option, and every contingency. In the end, he is only one man.
If so, one might suggest: Let us establish a forum of thirty wise, discerning advisors who will reach a decision, and only when there is a unanimous ruling will we take action according to their counsel. The Gra says: This, too, is unfeasible. For one will argue, "I am right," another will argue, "I am right," and a third will argue, "I am right" - how could a resolution ever be reached? This problem exists in American juries: the jurors are essentially locked away, unable to leave or do anything until they reach a verdict, and if two of them disagree, pressure is exerted on them until they conform. The Vilna Gaon notes that in such a setup, absolute consensus can never truly be attained naturally, because each individual will always pull toward his own perspective.
Rather, what is the correct path? That there be many people consulting together: this one offers his counsel and makes his case according to his approach, and that one offers his counsel and makes his case according to his approach, and above them all stands one person who, out of all the advice and everything that was said, sifts out the most correct counsel, and according to his word the war will be waged. This is the proper way: to decide alone without advisors - who says you thought of all the possibilities? To let the advisors decide - they will never reach an agreement. Rather, we combine the two: the advisors deliberate and each expresses his opinion, and above them stands one leader who makes the decision, but at least he has heard counsel from everyone.
And this is a wonderful nuance in the phrasing of the verse: it should have said, "and salvation lies in a multitude of advisors [yo'atzim]," since it is speaking of a multitude, yet here it says "advisor [yo'etz]" in the singular. Rather, it comes to teach us: salvation must be "in a multitude" - many must deliberate, examine the matter, and express their opinion, but over all of them there must be one "advisor." The one who decides and makes the final determination must be a single person.
The Malbim explains the verse based on the similar verse in chapter 20, verse 18: "Plans are established by counsel, and with strategies make war." First he explains the concept there, and from there he returns to explain it here. There is a difference between a thought and counsel: counsel is the agreed conclusion where one decides in his mind which path to choose. A thought, by contrast, is everything that swirled around in one's head until arriving at that counsel - one thought of this possibility, and then another possibility, maybe this way or maybe that way, and ultimately reached a decision, and that decision is the counsel.
And so it is explicitly stated: "Many thoughts are in a man's heart, but the counsel of Hashem - that shall stand." The thoughts are what come first, and what ultimately stands is the decision, which is called counsel. What you ponder is merely thoughts, abstract notions that have not yet descended into the world of action; the implementation, the world of action, is already called counsel. And this is "Plans are established [tikon] by counsel": as long as thoughts are merely swirling in one's head, the Malbim defines it, they are like foam atop the crests of turbulent waves - there are waves and there is foam above, but there is no resolution and no definite conclusion. When is there a foundation to rely upon? When there is counsel. "Tikon" is from the root of kan, a base or foundation: when will thoughts have a stable foundation? When there is counsel, which is the decision of how to act.
However, all of this applies to ordinary worldly affairs. For example: what livelihood to pursue, what business to open - at first one considered one direction, then investigated another direction, and ultimately arrived at a conclusion. That is already counsel. But in war, this is not the case, and this is the continuation of the verse: "and with strategies make war." In war, counsel alone is not enough. Why? Because the enemy also has counsel. If you say, "I considered many angles and finally made a decision" - the enemy also considered many angles and finally made a decision, and there is no guarantee that your counsel will overcome the enemy's counsel.
An example of this is the counsel of Achitophel. Achitophel first advised Avshalom, "Go in to your father's concubines," and afterwards advised him to surprise David that very night with a small force, an elite unit, while David was still restless and unsettled - to come, surprise him, strike, and eliminate him. But in contrast, Chushai HaArki came with different counsel: Is David someone who can be surprised by a small force? David is never caught off guard; he is a seasoned warrior, he is always prepared, he posts lookouts, and do not think for a moment that he is going to sleep. Furthermore, if you suffer a setback now - a small force goes out and David strikes it down - what rumor will spread throughout all of Israel? That Avshalom rebelled and David struck him down. You will be finished. Therefore, his counsel was: haste is from the Satan; conduct a month of general mobilization, gather all of Israel, assemble an army of three hundred thousand men, and then surround David, strike him a mortal blow, and finish the matter, rather than taking the risk now of a battle in which you might lose everything.
See what we have learned: you may have a plan of action, and Achitophel's counsel was actually very sound. (The contemporary idiom that uses "counsel of Achitophel" to mean ruinous or bad advice is a distortion.) And why did Achitophel go and take his own life once he saw that his counsel was not accepted? Because he knew that consulting Achitophel was like consulting the word of God, and he knew that if his counsel was rejected, they were doomed. He knew his counsel was the correct one. The Malbim cites this as an example: you might have a brilliant plan, but the opposing side also has a plan; they are not sitting idly by. Therefore, for war, counsel alone is not enough.
If so, what is required to win a war? "With strategies [tachbulot] you shall wage war." And what are strategies? The Malbim explains: a rope-like network of multiple counsels, tying cord to cord (from the word chevel, rope), linking causes and effects, so that whichever way the enemy turns, he will find a ready countermeasure against him, continually adapting through these maneuvers against the enemy's plans.
To understand this principle, let us use the analogy of a game of chess. Who wins a chess match? The one who looks more moves ahead. If I have a tactic to bring my bishop forward so that you capture it, and then I capture your piece and eliminate an important piece on your board - that is very nice. But what if the opponent thinks three moves ahead: he anticipates how you advance your bishop, how he will offer a piece in response for you to capture, and how two moves after that he delivers checkmate - who won? The one who thought one move further ahead. The one who reasoned: if I do this and you do that, and I counter this way and you counter that way, in the end the final blow is mine. This is strategy [tachbulah] - tying cord to cord, never stopping at the first possibility.
And so it is in actual warfare: I may have a plan, but a single plan is not enough. What will you do if the enemy reacts like this? We will respond like that. And what if in response he bombards over there? We will respond accordingly. And what if he invades here? The moment he invades here, a force is already waiting for him there. That is what wins a war. Here you cannot be content with a single plan; you must think through every possibility and every eventuality.
From here, the Malbim returns to our verse: "Where there are no strategies, a people falls" - the moment the military leaders fail to brainstorm and do not sit down to consider every direction, they lack strategic foresight, and the people will fall. Therefore, "and salvation lies in a multitude of counsel" - in an abundance of tactical planning. Under normal circumstances, "Plans are established by counsel"; when you have all kinds of ideas - how to start a business, how to get by, how to build - you formulate a plan and succeed. But in war it does not work that way, and therefore you must have multiple layers of counsel; because countering your plan, the opposing side also has a plan, and you must anticipate every possibility, having a solution and a response prepared for every situation.
All this was not written as a military strategy manual. Rather, the Malbim explains that this is a parable for a different, internal war against the enemy within. Shlomo speaks to us of battles, but which battle is he really discussing? The war with the yetzer hara, the evil inclination. "When you go out to battle" - the verse speaks of the war against the yetzer hara, and that is the hardest battle of all.
This is like the story brought in Chovos HaLevavos about the pious man who saw soldiers returning crowned with victory. He said to them: "You have finished the small war, but the great war still lies before you." They replied, "What small war and what great war? We have finished everything!" He told them: "The small war is against the physical enemy, but the great war is against the yetzer hara. That is the true war, and that is the great war." A person can be a mighty warrior and subdue an enemy army - but have you ever managed to overcome your own desires? Have you managed to master your own cravings?
This is the war Shlomo is speaking of here: the yetzer hara has strategies against you, and you must have strategies against it; you have tactics against it, and it has tactics against you. You need strategies - numerous plans for every possible scenario: "What if this happens? What if such a test confronts me? And what if after that, things turn out this way?" You must know in advance that you are covered in every situation.
רַע־יֵרוֹעַ כִּי־עָרַב זָר וְשֹׂנֵא תֹקְעִים בּוֹטֵחַ׃ (טו) - He who guarantees for a stranger will surely suffer harm, but he who hates striking hands is secure. (15)
"He will suffer harm [ra yeiro'a]" - the meaning is that an irresponsible person will be broken, as in the verse, "You shall break them [tero'eim] with a rod of iron; like a potter's vessel you shall shatter them." An irresponsible person will be broken when he guarantees a loan for a stranger. And what is a guarantor [areiv]? One who enters into a financial guarantee: "Take a loan from the bank and I will be your guarantor," or "Take a loan from Reuven and I will co-sign for you." And who is a "stranger"? Someone whose trustworthiness you do not know, and whose ability to repay is unknown to you.
What happens if the stranger fails to pay? First they turn to the borrower, and if he cannot pay, they turn to the guarantor. Rabbeinu Yonah explains that one of two things will happen: either the lender will come shouting at the guarantor, "Sir, pay me!" and if the guarantor does not pay, he has now entered into a quarrel with someone he does not even know and with whom he never had any dealings. Now this person is demanding money, harboring anger against him, and making claims because he hasn't paid. Or, another possibility: the lender drags you to Beis Din, pulling at your shirt, and Beis Din rules that you must pay. To whom do you turn then? To the borrower: "Look what you have gotten me into! I guaranteed for you, you didn't pay, and now they are suing me and seizing my assets!" And so a bitter quarrel erupts with the borrower.
Thus, one never comes out of this cleanly: either you do not pay and end up in a feud with the lender, or you are forced to pay when Beis Din extracts the funds, and you end up in a feud with the borrower. In the end, there is also financial loss, because you cannot always recover the money from the borrower - he may have nothing, or he may be a gavra alima, a violent and intimidating person from whom you cannot possibly collect. On top of that, it turns out that you, the guarantor, appear dishonest and untrustworthy: you declared, "I am the guarantor," and yet you refused to pay.
This brings to mind the famous story told of the Chazon Ish. Once, an acquaintance came and asked him to sign as a guarantor, and the Chazon Ish agreed. Sometime later, the borrower repaid the loan in full. After another period, a year or two later, the same man returned and asked the Chazon Ish to co-sign for him again - but this time, the Chazon Ish declined. The man asked, "Why? The Rav agreed to sign for me in the past, and I haven't changed my name; I am the very same person!" The Chazon Ish replied: "Last time, when you took a loan of a thousand dollars, for instance, I happened to have a thousand dollars at home earmarked for a certain matter, and that money was set aside in case you failed to repay the debt. But today, I do not have that money at home, and if you do not pay back the loan, from where will I pay?"
Notice the extraordinary perspective of a great man: signing as a guarantor is not a game. If you sign as a guarantor, you must have the funds available; signing a guarantee means you are ready and willing to pay. It is not a matter of "let's just sign and hope that Hashem helps and he pays on time." People have lost their homes by casually co-signing for all kinds of questionable characters.
This is why the verse states, "He who guarantees for a stranger will surely suffer harm": all these troubles befall the irresponsible person when he guarantees for a stranger. But the upright person will not come to this. Why? Because the upright person, like the Chazon Ish, sets money aside. The moment the borrower fails to pay, he has the means to cover it. He will not quarrel with the lender, he will not reach the point of being sued in Beis Din and having his property seized, nor will he find himself unable to pay because he lacks the funds. When he enters into a guarantee, it is with complete clarity: "If you do not pay, I will pay and keep quiet; and if I cannot do that, I will not guarantee." That is a responsible person. An irresponsible person, on the other hand, acts without calculation - why sign if you have no real intention or ability to pay?
Furthermore: even afterward, if the borrower fails to pay, the good man will not quarrel with him, since he entered the guarantee with that very understanding. When I signed for you, it meant that if you do not pay - I will pay; I took this into account from the start and agreed to it. In such a situation, it will not lead to strife, nor to dispute, nor to beit din forcing him to pay. This is a good man, a person who hates strife, who assumed the guarantee with this clear intention.
"And one who hates striking hands is secure" - here, Rabbeinu Yonah explains, King Solomon distances a person entirely from all matters of guarantees. A person who wants to be secure in his wealth - that is, to be confident that his money will remain his - hates this practice of entering into guarantees; and one who hates something will certainly not do it. And who are "those who strike hands"? A person who shakes hands (strikes palms) with another and says, "I am a guarantor." One who hates doing this, even if people plead with him, beg him in every possible way, or entice him, will not yield. He will say: "I hate striking hands; I do not like entering guarantees and I am unwilling to do so." This is the meaning of "is secure": such a person sleeps peacefully and securely. He will not lie awake at night dreading a phone call that the borrower failed to pay the mortgage this month. What I borrowed myself - I know, and my debts are organized; but taking on other people's debts that I never planned for and knowing nothing of their financial situation, simply signing a guarantee - that is foolishness. Who is secure? One who hates striking hands.
The Vilna Gaon explains: Chazal expounded on "he shall suffer harm" (ra yero'a) - evil upon evil will befall one who guarantees for a stranger. There are two types of guarantees: an ordinary guarantor (arev stam) and an unconditional guarantor (arev kablan), referred to in the language of Chazal as "pull out and stick in" (shelof dutz). With a standard guarantor, if the borrower fails to pay the mortgage, the bank first attempts collection against the borrower; only if that fails does it turn to the guarantor. With an arev kablan, the bank states upfront: "I may turn to whomever I choose; I do not have to approach the borrower first, I can come directly to you, and do not tell me 'go to the borrower first, I am merely a guarantor.'" What is the etymology of kablan? Not a building contractor, but from acceptance (kibbolet, mekabel): "I, the guarantor, have accepted upon myself to stand in the borrower's place, so that if you wish, you may turn directly to me, and I will satisfy the debt."
With this, the Vilna Gaon offers an analogy corresponding to two groups in the Jewish people: those who teach Torah to the Jewish people, and the judges (dayanim) of Israel. Torah teachers are what the Torah calls "captains of fifties" and "captains of hundreds," and Chazal expounded that "captains of fifties" refers to those who know how to analyze the Five Books of the Torah. Now, consider a person who teaches students: if the student subsequently commits a transgression due to an incorrect ruling or erroneous teaching he received, on whom does it depend? On the teacher. When the student is asked, "How could you do such a thing, is it not forbidden?" he replies, "That is what my rabbi told me." The rabbi erred; the rabbi did not give the correct ruling. Such things can happen - after all, there is a communal sacrifice brought when a beit din errs in its ruling, which shows that a beit din can indeed make a mistake. If one errs, he must realize that there is a risk: the student acts upon his words, and the sin falls upon him.
Yet note, says the Vilna Gaon: this is not the guarantee of an arev kablan, but that of an ordinary guarantor. With an arev kablan, you are in the picture under all circumstances and must pay, and the creditor can turn to you from the outset. With an ordinary guarantor, however, it is not certain that you will have to pay; if the borrower pays on time, no one will approach you. The same applies here: although you taught him an error, it is not certain that you will have to pay, because it is not certain that the student will ever act upon it. If, for instance, through an error in understanding, you taught him that it is permitted to turn a light on or off with an unusual motion (shinui) on Shabbat, but the student never encountered such a situation, you taught an error, but you will not be held accountable for an actual transgression, because he never desecrated Shabbat on your account.
With a judge, however, it is entirely different. A judge who errs - exonerating the liable party or holding the innocent liable - causes money to be transferred from one person to another on the authority of his ruling. The judge is like an arev kablan: he is directly involved in every scenario, and he is approached directly from the outset to mandate payment. A judge cannot say, "They did not act upon my ruling," for no such thing exists; the judge declares, "You are liable" or "You are exempt," taking money from one and giving it to another. In his case, an obligation to pay certainly takes effect, and therefore his guarantee is akin to that of an arev kablan.
This is what is meant by "He will surely suffer harm (ra yero'a) who guarantees for a stranger": a person who takes upon himself to teach Torah to the public faces a risk that he might err, and the student might follow his error, leaving the sin resting on him. "And one who hates striking hands" - this refers to the arev kablan. Why is he called a "striker"? Because he inserts ("strikes") himself in place of his fellow: "I place myself into the picture, and I am the defendant; he took the loan, but if you have any trouble with payment, come to me, and you do not need to claim from him first." This is the meaning of shelof dutz: you pull out whoever was there before, and dutz is an expression of thrusting or striking - he thrusts himself into his place.
"And one who hates striking hands is secure" - one who hates sitting in judgment and deciding cases is secure and at peace. With a guarantor for a stranger, which is an ordinary guarantee, damage is not certain: "harm" implies there is a risk of harm, but it is not inevitable. But one who strikes hands - that is, a judge who thrusts himself forward to judge a Torah case and ends up perverting the judgment - is certainly obligated to pay. Therefore, one who spares himself from judging falls into the category of "is secure": he has nothing to worry about, as Chazal taught that one who spares himself from judging removes enmity and robbery from himself. He remains at ease: "I did not judge the case; I told you to go to someone else, and I avoided entanglement."
This is illustrated by the story told of the Rav of Brisk (and it seems this is told of the Beis HaLevi): he had tremendous trepidation regarding halachic rulings (yiras hora'ah). He would not judge monetary cases, and even with regard to rulings on matters of forbidden and permitted (issur ve-heter), he would say, "Ask Reb Zelig the Dayan," who was the communal judge of Brisk. Once, someone asked him a complex question, and he replied, "You need to ask Reb Zelig the Dayan" - but Reb Zelig was not in town at the time. The person remarked with a subtle barb, "Rebbe, you need Reb Zelig the Dayan attached to your side, for every question asked of you, you say one must ask Reb Zelig!" They say that the Rav of Brisk immediately began citing all the opinions of the poskim and everything said on the matter. There are people who say "ask so-and-so" because they do not know the answer, but in his case it was not so. He demonstrated that he was completely master of the sugya and an extraordinary genius; rather, out of awe of halachic ruling - lest he declare the pure defiled or the defiled pure - he refused to rule. This is the meaning of "one who hates striking hands is secure": one who spares himself from judging removes enmity and robbery from himself, avoiding much trouble. If one does not become a judge, who is like an arev kablan - he remains at ease.
The Malbim explains: We have learned that a person who loves his fellow must help him by every means possible, including serving as a guarantor for him - if he takes out a loan, being willing to guarantee it. Nevertheless, one should never become an arev kablan, as seen in the Vilna Gaon's explanation, because an arev kablan is a grave risk: the creditor may turn to you from the very outset.
And concerning this he says, "He will surely suffer harm because he guaranteed a stranger": even one who undertook a simple guarantee rather than that of a kablan (an unconditional guarantor) - meaning a guarantee where the borrower is expected to pay, and only if he cannot will they turn to me - even in this case, "he will surely suffer harm." Know that you are bound to be broken and shattered; the very fact that a person acts as a guarantor, even if he is not an areiv kablan, is harmful. And not only that, but even one who is compelled to guarantee for his fellow and has no alternative - an unconditional guarantee (areivut kablan) he certainly must not undertake.
Notice the precision: regarding "those who strike hands," it does not say "and he who hates striking hands for a stranger," but simply leaves it unqualified, because here the verse is already speaking of a friend and loved one - someone you indeed ought to help, and for whom there is a mitzvah to act as a guarantor. The Malbim explains: True, act as a guarantor for him, but under no circumstances strike hands; under no circumstances become an areiv kablan. Even when you have no choice and must act as a guarantor, because this is not a stranger but an acquaintance, be an ordinary guarantor, but by no means strike hands. For if you strike hands and bind yourself as an areiv kablan, committing to pay whatever he does not pay, you have entered into a very serious problem, since they will turn directly to you first.
Three verses and three practical directives. "A talebearer reveals secrets" - a secret is a trust, and one who does not restrain his mouth in small matters cannot be trusted to guard great ones; whereas one of faithful spirit is someone who masters his spirit, conceals a matter, and even endeavors to keep it hidden. "Where there is no strategy a nation falls" - a numerous populace is not enough, nor is a single piece of advice; the proper path of decision-making requires many individuals deliberating and voicing their opinions, with one counselor deciding among them. In war, strategy is essential - a coordinated network of multiple plans, calculating moves ahead and being prepared for any enemy response. All this serves as a metaphor for the great battle, the war against the yetzer hara, which likewise has strategies and plots against us, requiring us to be covered in every scenario. "He will surely suffer harm because he guaranteed a stranger" - the immense caution demanded regarding guarantees: one who enters blindly becomes entangled in disputes and monetary loss, whereas one who enters out of good-heartedness does so with the clear knowledge that he has the means to pay. And one who hates striking hands - who does not commit himself as an areiv kablan, and spares himself from litigation - is the one who remains secure and whole.