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Vaeraתשפ״ג5783Parsha

Go Fish

The essay explores the connections between the Parsha Va'era and its Haftorah from Yechezkel, focusing on the metaphors used to describe Pharaoh and the people of Mitzrayim as fish, illustrating their spiritual failings and the consequences of their actions.

We know that every word of the Torah is suffused with meaning and important lessons for us all. The early Parshios of Sefer Shemos—those that describe the Galus and Geulas Mitzrayim—seem to be even more so. Each Passuk, and each event that is described, can be understood on so many different levels, and can be instructional in every area of life. Although it is a tall task to access and appreciate all the various layers of meaning in the Parsha, we can use the Haftorah as an aid. If examined closely, the words of the Navi selected by Chazal to accompany a particular Sedra can help us understand the Parsha in new and deeper ways.

The Haftorah for Parshas Va’Era is taken from Sefer Yechezkel, and it seems to be immediately clear how these Pessukim are connected to the Parsha. The Navi tells us that Hashem spoke to him in the tenth year after Galus Yehoyachin and gave him clear instructions: “Sim Panecha Al Pharaoh Melech Mitzrayim V’Hinabeh Alav V’Al Mitzrayim Kula”. Pharaoh had goaded the Malchus of Yehuda into ignoring the taxes owed to Bavel, with the promise of military assistance if Nevuchadnetzar attacked, but when that eventuality arrived no help was forthcoming. These events led to the Churban, which Pharaoh and Mitzrayim now had a role in, and Yechezkel was told to inform Pharaoh of the impending punishment for his actions.

The similarities to the Sedra are quite clear. Parshas Va’Era speaks at length about the interactions between Moshe Rabbeinu and Pharoah, a theme which is prevalent in the Haftorah. In addition, the looming punishments described by the Navi resemble the Makos discussed in the Parsha. This being the case, it we can assume that a careful study of these Pessukim will bring us important insights into the Parshas HaShavua. As is often the case, we can access these messages if we pay attention not only to what the Navi says, but the way in which he says it.

Once the Navi is given his basic charge: “Sim Panecha Al Pharaoh Melech Mitzrayim V’Hinabeh Alav…” the Passuk tells us exactly what he should say. One of the interesting aspects of this Nevuah, as detailed in the Pessukim, is the way in which Yechezkel is told to refer to Pharoah.

The Passuk says: “Ko Amar Hahsem…Hinini Alecha Pharoah Melech Mitzrayim HaTanim HaGadol HaRovetz B’Soch Ye’arav l”. Besides addressing Pharaoh in terms of his role, Melech Mitzrayim, the Navi appends a title: “HaTanim HaGadol”, loosely translated as “the great serpent”.

In the next Passuk, the metaphor is extended: “V’Nasati HaChim B’Lichayich V’Hidbakti Digas Ye’orecha B’Kashkishosecha”. The Navi promises to put hooks in the jaws of Pharoah, and cause the fish of the river to cling to his scales, thusly hauling him from the river. This Passuk is clearly written in metaphor, but its intent is clear: Pharaoh will suffer for his actions, being violently extracted from his current reality. That said, it is important to understand the words used by the Navi.

The use of the word Tanim to describe Pharoah is somewhat understandable: the word conjures up the vision of a vicious creature, which would seem to be an apt description of this duplicitous ruler. How can we understand the comparison of his people to fish?

Rashi, in explaining the words “HaTanim HaGadol” tells us that since the Nile represented the Gedulah of Mitzyaim, and provided all its sustenance, the Navi used the Mashal of a Tanin to refer to its leader and the Degas HaYeor, its fish, to refer to his subjects.

Radak adds that because the Yeor provided all needed irrigation, Mitzrayim was not reliant on rain and this caused its denizens to be Misga’eh with regard to the river. He also notes that the word “Degas” is a “Shem Kollel”, which includes all fish, large to small. In using this word, the Navi is telling Pharoah that the entire gamut of his subjects, from the ministers and officers to common man, will be swept up in the destruction that was to follow.

Even with the Pshatim of Rashi and Radak, however, some further explanation is needed. Why does the Navi have to use these metaphors at all, especially in the case of the Mitzriyim themselves? What more do we learn about their actions or attitudes from the fact that they are called Dagim? Even with the addition of Radak—that the river caused the people of Mitzrayim to be “Misga’eh”—we must understand why this causes the Navi to call them Dagim.

It is interesting to note that the actual Digei HaYeor are discussed in this week’s Parsha, in a way that perhaps highlights this question.

In describing Makas Dam HKBH tells Moshe Rabbeinu to inform Pharaoh: “Hinei Anochi Makah B’Mateh…Al Hamayim V’Nehfchu L’Dam V’Hadaga Asher B’Yeor Tamus”. Moshe would hit the water with his Mateh and it would turn to blood, and the fish in the river would die. Later, when the Makah actually occurs, the Torah confirms that in fact Moshe and Ahron caused the water to turn to Dam, “V’Hadaga Asher BaYe’or Mesah”.

If we think about it, the added detail of “V’Hadaga Asher B’Yeor Tamus” is itself unnecessary. Fish can exist only in water, if one would transfer a fish to a bowl of blood it would of course die. Why then is it necessary for Moshe to tell Pharoah that the fist in the river would die when it was turned to blood? Is this not an obvious conclusion? Further, why does the Torah have to tell us that, in fact, the fish did perish? Why would we have thought otherwise?

There is a Medrash Lekach Tov which seems to address this question. The Medrash tells us that “Makeh B’Soch Makeh Nas’eh B’Mitzrayim”, the death of the fish constituted a double Makkah. The Medrash continues, explaining that in the Dor HaMabul the Gezeirah did not affect the fish—they survived the Mabul in their natural habitat—but in Mitzrayim it did.

Based on this Medrash we can understand why the Torah mentions and highlights the death of the fish during Makas Dam, as it was a Chiddush, so to speak. At the same time, a new question emerges: why? Why was it that in Mitzrayim the fish were affected, but not during the Mabul? Why, in fact, did the Degei HaYeor perish?

Perhaps an answer can be found at the end of our Haftorah, in a seemingly unrelated Passuk.

Appended to the Nevuah intended for Pharoah, is one that Yechezkel was meant to give over to Nevuchadnetzar: because he had expended great effort in defeating Tzur but had received no reward, Nevucahnetzar would receive Mitzrayim after Pharoah was vanquished. The Nevurah, and our Haftorah, ends with a promise to Bnei Yisroel: “Bayom Hahu Atzmiach Keren L’Bais Yisroel U’LEcha Eten Pischon Peh B’Socham V’Yadu Ki Ani Hashem”.

Hashem promises that on “that day”, Bnei Yisroel will be elevated and Yechezekl vindicated, but it is not entirely clear to what this refers.

Rashi writes that he has not seen a Pirush for these words, as it is unclear what Tzmichas Keren is created for Klal Yisroel by the downfall of Mitzrayim, especially as we had been sent to Galus eight years prior to that event. Instead he explains, based on detailed Cheshbon, that this refers to the fact that Mitzrayim would be restored to it homeland at the same time as Bnei Yisroel, at the end of Galus Bavel.

Other Meforshim, including Mincha Gedolah and the Ry”d, draw other conclusions as to the timing of the Tzmichas Keren, but it seems that Chazal had an entirely different view.

The Gemara in Sanhedrin tells us “Ain Ben Dovid Bah Ad SheYisbakesh Dag L’Choleh V’Lo Nimtzah”, Moshiach will come only when it is no longer possible to find a small fish to be used as a cure. The Gemara proves this from a Passuk later in Yechezkel, also regarding the downfall of Mitzrayim, which speaks about the state of waterways at the time of the Geulah HaAsida, connecting it to words “Bayom Hahu Atzmiach Keren L’Bais Yisroel”.

Chazal clearly understood these words to be speaking about the Tzmiach Keren for which we daven each day, and again we see a mention of Dagim, which of course must be understood. Perhaps if we can understand why the Geulah HaAsida is tied to a paucity in fish, we can answer our earlier questions.

Maharal in Netzach Yisroel explains the difference between fish and other beings in a way only he can.

Mankind represents the ultimate Shelimus HaBriah: there is no being on the earth that is more Shalem than a person. The next level down are animals, which are not Shalem but are closer to this ideal. Fish, though, are the most removed from Shelimus. An illustration of this concept can be seen using the gift of speech: man can speak, animals do not speak but use sounds to communicate, but fish make no sound at all.

The way the Briah words, explains Maharal, is that which is closer to Shelimus is more likely to be physically affected by shortcomings in Ruchnias. For example, people are more susceptible to all sorts of illness than are any other Briah, because they are closer to Shelimus. This is related to a concept introduced by the Ramban in various writings: that which is more Kadosh is more vulnerable to destruction. So to, that which is more Shalem is more easily affected by its failings.

The Gemarah is therefore telling us that at the time of Moshiach, the world will be so deeply affected by its spiritual downfall, that even the fish—normally immune to such affects—will be diminished leading to a reality of “Yisbakesh Dag L’Choleh V’Lo Nimtzah” .

Maharal uses this Klal to explain why the fish were not affect by the Mabul—because the spiritual decline of the Dor did not affect them—and so we can apply this concept to the Medrash Lekach Tov as well. If the fish in Mitzrayim were affected by the Makkos it was because they were not protected by their distance from Shelimus. We must understand that the Ruchniasdik failings at the time were worse than those of the Dor Hamidbar, causing the Digei HaYeor to be affected as well.

Perhaps the Navi refers to the people of Mitzrayim as Digei HaYeor to illustrate why this was the case. As Radak explained, because the Yeor provided all needed irrigation, Mitzrayim was not reliant on rain leading to a sense of Gayva on the part of the Mitzriyim. They felt that since they had the Yeor, there was no need for the rain that comes from Shamayim. This total rejection of Hashgachas Hashem caused such a serious devolvement in Ruchnias that even the fish were affected, much as will take place at the times of Moshiach.

The connection between Mitzrayim and Dagim is an illustration of the destructive nature of their mindset. The Dor Hamidbar was totally depraved, but their effect was limited and the fish were not subject to the Mabul. In Mitzrayim, the rejection of Hashem, rooted in a sense of security, created a situation in which even the fish were not protected.

The words V’Yadu Ki Ani Hashem appear quite often in the Parshios of the Makkos indicating, as we have established, that Yedias Hashem was at issue. Perhaps, if we wish to see the Tzmichas Keren of Moshiach, we should try to take the lessons of Mitzrayim to heart, ensuring that we increase Yedias Hashem in our lives so that we may see the ultimate day of V’Yadu Ki Ani Hashem.