The issue of joy at the downfall of enemies is obviously a subtle and complex one

Israelis danced in the streets of Tel Aviv when news broke that the archenemy of the Jews, the leader of Hamas, had been killed. Like all Israelis, I shared the feelings of joy. But if I had been in Tel Aviv at the time, I probably would not have joined in the dancing.

Why not ? Was I not overjoyed that the evil architect of October 7 was no more? Of course I was. Did I disapprove of the dancing? Not at all: It was quite natural. Nevertheless, I had a lingering sense of unease about it. And in all honesty, I’m not sure precisely why.

Was it because King Solomon in his Mishlei 24:17 writes, binefol oyivcha al tismach — when thine enemy falls, do not rejoice….?” No, it was more than that, especially since many commentaries say that he is referring to evil Jewish enemies, and not to heathens.

Was it because in Mishlei 11:10 he declares “Ba’avod reshaim rinah — with the destruction of the wicked [there is] rinah?” Rinah might mean rejoicing or song, but there is no mention here of dancing with joy.

I kept searching for some support for my reaction. Megillas Esther explicitly says that after the demise of an earlier archenemy, Haman and his cohorts, “Layehudim haysa orah vesimchah — The Jews of Persia were filled with simchah.” The verse refers to various manifestations of joy, but neither song nor dance is among them.

The Talmud in Megillah 10b offers a somewhat different nuance about rejoicing at an enemy’s downfall. The heavenly angels wanted to sing joyously at the debacle that befell the pursuing Egyptians at the sea. G-d demurs: “Maasei yadai tov’in bayam v’atem omrim shirah? — My handiwork is drowning in the sea, and you want to chant songs?” In other words, for angels it is sufficient to be in a state of simchah at the destruction of Israel’s enemies, but, says G-d, no singing as expressions of joy, because these were human beings, after all.

This is a very high bar that confines our joy when enemies fall: joy but not limitless joy. On the other hand, perhaps that limitation applies only to angels and not to ordinary mortals who will naturally express joy by singing — as did Moshe and Bnei Yisrael in Az Yashir (Shemos 15:1 ff). Note, however, that they only sang, but did not dance. Only the women led by Miriam engaged in dancing, using the drums they had taken with them from Egypt in anticipation of Israel’s triumph: “Miriam took her drum in her hands, and the women followed her with tupim uvimecholos, with drums and with dances.” (Shemos 15:20)

(Since dance involves the entire body, while singing is only a creation of pleasant sound, may we conjecture that the joy of the women was more intense? Did the women both sing and dance, while the men only sang but did not dance with joy?)

The issue of joy at the downfall of enemies is obviously a subtle and complex one, and it is small wonder that the search for some textual backing for my feelings of unease was not an easy one. But then I came across the comment by the classic Meshech Chochmah (Rav Meir Simchah of Dvinsk (1843-1926) on Shemos 12:16, in which he offers a seminal discussion of the matter, a discussion that illuminated the issue for me.

He points out that at each of the three major triumphs of Israel over her enemies, the ensuing Yom Tov celebrations do not stress the downfall of the enemies: “Al mapalas ha’oyvim ein chag veyom tov leYisrael — We have no Yom Tov to celebrate the downfall of enemies.” On Pesach, we celebrate a Yom Tov not because G-d caused the destruction of the Egyptians, but because “hotziacha HaShem miMitzrayim,” i.e., we are joyous “because G-d took us out of Egypt.”(Devarim 16:1) Similarly, Chanukah’s emphasis is on the miraculous oil, and not on the destruction of our enemies. And — continues Meshech Chochmah — in Megillas Esther we find that the Jews rejoiced not on the day when they killed and vanquished their enemies, but only later, on the day “asher nachu mei’oyveihem — when they had respite from their enemies.”(Esther 9:22) To which one might add that though there was intense joy, there is no mention of either singing or dancing in the streets.

This paraphrase from Meshech Chochmah casts some light on my discomfort at the street dancing last month. Joy? Certainly. Happiness at the elimination of a bitter archenemy of the Jews? Of course. Singing for joy? Possibly. But dancing in the streets? Fine, proper, understandable. But for reasons still not fully clear to me, I would not have been able to join in the dancing.

And then, in an epiphany of sorts, it occurred to me that despite the many Biblical allusions to the destruction of our many enemies, my reluctance to dance might be traced to the savage behavior of our current enemies. It is they who invariably dance whenever Jews are murdered, and it is they who danced ecstatically in the streets of Gaza at the massacre of 1,200 Jews on October 7. Perhaps my hesitation is because, deep within me, I do not want to lower myself to behave in the barbaric ways of those who would destroy us.

I think it best to save my dancing for Simchas Torah and for weddings — and for the Messiah when he arrives. Until he makes his long-awaited appearance, I pray for many more analogous dilemmas: to dance or not to dance at the destruction of the enemies of our people.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1036)