The day the root of conflict was created

orach the son of Yitzhar, the son of Kehas, the son of Levi took [himself to one side] along with Dasan and Aviram, the sons of Eliav, and Ohn the son of Peles, descendants of Reuven.” (Bamidbar 16:1)

The Midrash Rabbah (Bereishis 4:8) asks, “Why doesn’t the second day of creation conclude with ‘it was good’? The answer there is that on that day, Hashem divided between the upper waters and the lower waters. Thus, division — the root of conflict — was created that day.

Sifsei Kohein writes that as a result of this, Yom Sheini became associated with machlokes. The conflict with Korach also happened on Yom Sheini.

Reb Tzaddok (Resisei Lailah) points out that the Shir shel Yom for the second day of the week was written by the sons of Korach and speaks about Yerushalayim, the City of Peace, to teach us about shalom. (Rav Yaakov S. Weinberg, The Torah Connection)

When we first moved to our city, one of the biggest perks was the number of gorgeous green parks. My girls developed a “minhag” that late Friday afternoons they’d take their Erev Shabbos treat of Bissli, potato chips, or Bamba, and go play in one of the many parks near our building.

In Shemos (2:13), we see another reference to fighting on Yom Sheini. “And Moshe went out on Yom haSheini and behold, two Hebrew men were fighting.” Rashi says these were Dasan and Aviram. We find that Dasan and Aviram challenged Moshe during many incidents, lastly the machlokes with Korach.

It’s interesting to note that Dasan and Aviram were not lowlifes. Midrash Tanchuma says that at one point, the Jews wanted to replace Moshe and Aharon with Dasan and Aviram as leaders of the nation! Furthermore, the pasuk in Shemos calls them anashim, distinguished people. So what was their motive in constantly arguing with Moshe, and now joining with Korach?

There was one park though, that my girls avoided like the plague. Several times, they’d been accosted there by a ten-year-old boy who demanded they “share” their Bissli or chips and intimidated them until each would hand over her entire treat. Tears threatening to fall, they’d run back home frightened, bereft of their nosh.

My husband tried to follow up, but the boy would inevitably be gone long before he got there. Finally my daughters decided to drop that park off their itinerary to completely avoid the Bissli Bully, as they dubbed him.

Daas Sofrim writes that Dasan and Aviram (and also Ohn ben Peles) came from Reuven. They were upset that the right of the firstborn to perform the service of Hashem was taken from Reuven. Although this had happened at the end of Yaakov’s life, until the Cheit Ha’eigel when the firstborns sinned, the service still officially belonged to the bechorim. Now Moshe officially transferred the service to Shevet Levi, who hadn’t sinned. This led Dasan and Aviram to charge Moshe with nepotism.

Yet the Maharal (Chiddushei Aggados, Sanhedrin 109b) states a different reason for Dasan and Aviram’s conflict — a reason that’s almost chilling in its foundation. Says the Maharal, Dasan and Aviram had no motive to argue with Moshe. Not here, and not in other instances.

Why did they argue? Because they liked it. They were the very essence of machlokes and contentiousness. While Aharon was a rodeif shalom, constantly trying to make peace, Dasan and Aviram were rodfei machlokes. Sometimes people just love to hate.

A few weeks later I was sitting at my son’s cheder waiting our turn for a PTA meeting. Although each parent was designated a 15-minute slot, these things invariably ran overtime, and my husband and I were waiting for a while. Suddenly, loud voices erupted nearby.

Two men were almost nose to nose arguing over whose turn it was next. One was an almost apoplectic red, so furious was he over his opponent’s claim, and the other was flinging insinuations on the limits of his opponent’s cognitive abilities. The atmosphere was charged.

“See that guy,” my husband gestured to the man who was hurling insults, refusing to back down. “That’s Mr. So and So.” I immediately realized myself that this was Mr. Bissli Bully Senior.

Oh! How sad that little Bissli Bully Junior was growing up in such a household. No wonder he reduced my daughters to tears. I felt tears in my own heart for this little boy brought up in an atmosphere of contention that he’ll probably perpetuate. My kids may have lost out on their treats, but this kid, with his threats, was losing out on a lot more.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 649)