It’s been a busy few weeks for Israel’s finest. Ismail Haniyeh, the head of the political wing of Hamas was killed. Muhammad Deif, the head of the military wing of Hamas was eliminated. Fuad Shukr, the Hezbollah Chief of Staff was eliminated. Muhammad Nasser, also known as Haj Abu Naama, the commander of the Aziz unit in Hezbollah (equivalent to a member of the General Staff) was killed. Taleb Abdullah, the commander of the A-Nasser unit in Hezbollah (equivalent to a member of the General Staff) was killed. Rafe Salama, the commander of the Khan Yunis brigade in Hamas (comparable to a member of the General Staff), and Muhammad Def's right-hand man were killed. All in the past month. One would think that the general reaction would be proud applause for the brave men and women of the IDF and the Mossad, who certainly deserve our thanks and a hearty thanks for a job well done. But after each assassination, inevitably, the same comment begins making the rounds on social media. A well-meaning but thoroughly misguided Jew will post the verses in Mishlei (Proverbs) 24:17-18 which states: “When your enemy falls, do not rejoice, and when he stumbles, let your heart not exult, lest the Lord see and be displeased, and turn His wrath away from him.” Almost without fail, every time Israel eliminates one more monster from the world, a kindhearted Jew will feel that it’s their duty to jump in with these verses. Out of a misguided sense of compassion, and a miunderstanding of the subject of the verse, out of an idea that we Jews “are better than that,” we are told not to take any pleasure when evil is wiped out. Rather, we are supposed to feel somber and sad, even though the death of these terrorists makes our own lives much safer and avenges the blood of countless innocents. These compassionate souls would do well to remember what the Gemara itself comments on the situation. The Gemara in Megillah 16a brings down that: “When Mordechai was about to go out in royal garb, Haman told him, “Mount and ride.” Mordechai replied, “I am not able to mount myself since I am weak from fasting.” So, Haman bent down and Mordechai mounted on his back. As he was ascending, he kicked Haman. Haman said to Mordechai, “Is it not written, ‘Rejoice not when your enemy falls?’” Mordechai said that this only refers to Jews, but regarding non-Jewish enemies it is written, “And you must tread upon their high places. (Devarim 33:29”.)” Others have pointed to the famous Gemara in Sanhedrin 39b. When discussing the reason why Hallel is not recited on the last day of Pesach, it’s suggested that it’s because on this day the Egyptians were drowned in the Sea of Reeds. The Gemara brings down that: “In that hour the angels wanted to say praise (Hallel) before Hashem and Hashem said, ‘My handiwork (the Egyptians) are drowning in the sea and you wish to sing?’” But here again, it would seem that this does not apply. Chazal reminds us that only the angels were not allowed to say Shirah. However, Kal Yisroel were at risk of death from the Egyptians, and who experienced a miraculous salvation were allowed to sing, as indeed they did in the Shirat HaYam. In fact, there is a difference in how our enemies fall and what it means. It’s true that we don’t say a bracha on the mitzvah of erasing Amalek since this is the downfall of our enemies. It seems even according to the views that frown on rejoicing over an enemy’s fall as a general rule it is allowed and even encouraged when the fall leads to Jews being saved. Our deliverance from a murderous foe is certainly as reason to rejoice. The essential factor seems to be that we can, and should, rejoice when our enemy’s death leads to our own salvation. This is the opinion of the Gra (the Gaon of Vilna) who writes that when Hashem saves us from our enemies, He first redeems us and then destroys our enemy. For example, in the Exodus, Hashem first took us out and then killed the Egyptians. In the Purim story, first good was done to Mordechai and then Haman was hanged. This was done so Haman could see the greatness of Klal Yisrael and that Hashem was the true king. Once we are saved, we can rejoice, but if we are not victorious, we should not be joyous. It’s clear that when their downfall leads to survival and victory, it’s a cause for celebration. The Tzlach, writing on Brachot 10a likewise holds that it’s only while the enemies are in the midst of their downfall that one should not rejoice. However, once the enemies are dead one can rejoice. He writes that this answers why Dovid waited until his enemy’s downfall before he said “Hallelu-kah” if we know Hashem didn’t want us to say Shirah while the Egyptians were drowning. According to this, it makes sense, since the Egyptians were in the process of drowning and not yet dead. Dovid only said “Hallelu-kah” after his enemies had died. Likewise, the Jewish people sang at the Red Sea once their enemies had been drowned. Besides this, there are plenty of verses that courage celebrating the death of the wicked. The same Mishlei that warns us to rejoice over our enemies tells us that: The passuk in Mishlei in 11:10 says, “When it goes well with the righteous the city rejoices, and when the wicked perish there is jubilation.” The Gemara is full of statements to this effect. In Sanhedrin 39b it brings down another quote from Mishlei that says, “When the wicked perish there is a song.” Later, in Sanhedrin 113b it teaches that “When a wicked person leaves this world, good fortune comes to the world.” Finally, the Gemara in Berachot 9a states that Dovid Hamelech composed 103 chapters of Tehillim and he did not say “Hallelu-kah” until he saw the downfall of the wicked. We Jews pride ourselves on being a merciful people. And indeed, compassion has its time and place. But it’s important to know when and where to apply it. As King Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived wrote in Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) 3.8 there is "A time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace." It's true we as Jews do not, and should not celebrate when innocents die, even possibly innocent civilians in Gaza. While the death of civilians is an unfortunate and inevitable part of war, it is nonetheless tragic and all reasonable people should morn the losses. But that's not the topic here. This is referring to truly wicked people. People who run terrorist organizations, who are responsible for heinous crimes almost beyond imagining. Our natural feelings of compassion are important. But also important is the obligation to thank Hashem for His kindnesses to us and to celebrate His delivering us from the hands of our enemies. Hakarat hatov, seeing and thanking Hashem for the good, has always been one of Judaism’s central values. In the past few months, Jews in Israel have witnessed open miracles. Being thankful for the many times our foes have been destroyed is not only proper, it’s the necessary response for the goodness we’ve received. This war is far from over. There are still a large number of people who, Hashem willing, the soldiers will bring to the ultimate judgment. How we respond to these deaths is important. We need to show that we are strong and unappreciated. In war, there’s no room for misplaced compassion. For these evil people, and make no mistake, these people were as evil as you can get, we have no obligation to feel sad. When such criminals are removed, rejoicing is not only allowed, it's encouraged. All the more so if we have experienced pain at their hands, which is certainly the case here. Some people are so vile, so evil, that their deaths make the world an immeasurably better place. In times like these, the mitzvah is not to kill them with kindness, it’s just to kill them. Ilan Goodman is a museum collections professional and exhibition curator. He also serves as a rabbi and educator. He made Aliyah to Israel in 2011 and lives with his wife and children in Beit Shemesh. ...
