Bar-Ilan University
Parshat Bo 5774/January 4, 2014
Parashat Hashavua Study Center
Lectures on the weekly Torah reading by the faculty of Bar-Ilan University in Ramat Gan, Israel. A
project of the Faculty of Jewish Studies, Paul and Helene Shulman Basic Jewish Studies Center, and
the Office of the Campus Rabbi. Published on the Internet under the sponsorship of Bar-Ilan
University's International Center for Jewish Identity. Prepared for Internet Publication by the
Computer Center Staff at Bar-Ilan University.
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The Plague of Darkness—Social Aspects
By Devora Ushpizai
Then the Lord said to Moses, "Hold out your arm toward the sky that there
may be darkness upon the land of Egypt, a darkness that can be touched."
Moses held out his arm toward the sky and thick darkness descended upon
all the land of Egypt for three days. People could not see one another, and
for three days no one could get up from where he was, but all the Israelites
enjoyed light in their dwellings" (Ex. 10:21-23).
We preface our discussion by noting that at the beginning of this week's reading the Lord
said to Moses, "Come to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart" (Ex. 10:1). The word
"come" (Heb.: bo) stands out in contrast to the word one might expect—"go"—which was
used until to now: "Go to Pharaoh in the morning" (Ex. 7:15). This appears to be a sort of

Rabanit Dr. Ushpizai is a retiree of the Department of Talmud. Her thesis topic is: Rosh Chodesh
Customs.
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invitation, the Holy One, blessed be He, inviting Moses to go with Him to Pharaoh,1 for the
mission was not any easy one and therefore the Holy One, blessed be He, hinted to him that
He would accompany him, as it were.
This week's reading describes the last three plagues, matching the value in gematria of the
word bo. We shall focus on the second plague in the weekly portion, that of darkness, the
ninth of the ten plagues.
Examining the nature of the plagues and their intensity, we see that they were in ascending
order of severity.
Thus the plague of darkness, directly preceding the plague of the
firstborns, which ushered in redemption, was supposedly extremely severe. What was so
dreadful about this plague? It appears, on the contrary, the least severe of them all. The
plagues that preceded it caused bodily harm, such as lice and boils, or hurt the vegetation or
animals, such as the plague of wild beasts of prey and the like. But what was so hard to bear
about the plague of darkness?
Another question: generally each plague lasted for seven days and followed a period of
warning of around three weeks, but with the plague of darkness, after no more than three
days Pharaoh summoned Moses and said submissively, "Go, worship the Lord!" (Ex. 10:24).
He curtailed his preconditions and made their going dependent only on leaving their flocks
and herds behind, agreeing that even the children may go (Ex. 10:24). Here the question
becomes all the more poignant: what was so dreadful about the plague of darkness that
Pharaoh broke down after a mere three days?
Below we shall present interpretations that follow the Mekhilta and Rashi. The darkness
was so heavy, thick and palpable, that it could be touched—something that was frightening
beyond all comparison.
A characteristic of fear is that it paralyzes people, therefore
whoever was sitting could not stand, and whoever was standing could not sit down or move;
hence, it was also impossible for them to light candles. This was truly frightful. Egypt was
paralyzed by terrifying fear and enveloped in thick darkness. Thus Rashi interpreted "a
darkness that can be touched" (Ex. 10:21) following the midrash: "It was doubled and
redoubled, and so thick that it was palpable."
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A similar instance occurs in the book of Ruth. When Naomi suggests that Ruth go to the threshing
floor in the night, it says, "ve-yarad(ti) ha-goren" (= [I will] go to the threshing floor), according to the
written text (ktiv; see Ruth 3:3), as if to say that Naomi would accompany her there and would assist
her in her difficult and unpleasant task.
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Rabbi Baruch Epstein, in his commentary Torah Temimah, offers an original way of
understanding what was meant by darkness so thick that it could be touched:
A darkness that can be touched—this indicates that those Egyptians who
were standing could not sit down, and those who were sitting could not
stand, because they were groping in the dark, as it is written: darkness that
can be touched (Mekhilta Be-Shalah 4). The midrashim explain that the
darkness was as thick as a dinar [a coin], and this is very strange, for what
sense is there in giving a tangible dimension to darkness. This requires
investigation also because according to Rashi throughout the duration of the
plague there was only night and no day at all; therefore the order of the
created world changed, but this is highly problematic insofar as the Holy
One, blessed be He, promised Noah that "day and night shall not cease"
(Gen. 8:22).
Were I not hesitant about inventing something quite new, I would say that
the darkness was not in the air, rather only in the people's eyes; that is, they
had something obscuring their pupils, and that thing which obscured their
vision could be touched with the hand and was as thick as a dinar. This
explains everything.
Now let us focus on the text, "People could not see one another, and for three days no one
could get up from where he was" (Ex. 10:23). In my opinion, here lies the crux of the matter.
When a person does not see others and does not get up to help them, when a person is not
sensitive to the difficulties and condition of others—that is the meaning of "darkness like
that in Egypt."
Man, as we know, is a social creature and cannot live without society. Not only for receiving
physical assistance when sick, or weak, or poor, and not only in order to share our joys or
sorrows, but even simply to converse, study, exchange views, and in short to exist. The
principle "It is not good for man to be alone" (Gen. 2:18) holds not only with regard to
couples, but also for every human being as a social creature. In the normal way of things a
person cannot live alone on an isolated island. Even if people occasionally seek to withdraw
somewhat from the surrounding society and find solitude, this is usually only for a shorter or
longer vacation—an interlude before returning to normal life in society.
One of the more severe punishments today is putting a person in solitary confinement, in
isolation. Even Jewish law has a punishment of ostracism, by which a person is excluded
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from society, may not be counted in a minyan, may not come in contact with others, may
not be visited, studied with, or the like. This was an incomparably severe punishment. The
Sages expressed its gravity in the phrase, hevruta o mituta—either be in society, or die—and
recounted that Honi the Circle-drawer, upon awakening after having slept seventy years,
when he could not find a fellow with whom to study Torah, died of sorrow (Ta`anit 23a).
Further testimony is provided by the bitter end of the fascinating saga of Rabbi Johanan and
Reish Lakish. When Reish Lakish died and Rabbi Johanan could not find himself a suitable
study partner, people prayed for mercy for him, asking that he die. For he could not go on
living without fellowship, as we read in Bava Metzia (84a): "Thus he went on rending his
garments and weeping, 'Where are you, O son of Lakish,' and he cried thus until he went
mad. Thereupon the Rabbis prayed for him, and he died."
The ancient world recognized the value of social relations. This is attested, for one, by
architectural style: the houses were built in clusters around a common courtyard, so that
highly developed neighborly relations emerged (sometimes exceeding the limits and
hindering privacy). In contrast, modern architecture encourages excessive privacy, so that
people frequently do not even know their neighbors.
The 1950's saw the emergence of an extensive body of literature and films dealing with the
loneliness of modern man living in huge concrete building in a metropolis, swallowed up in
the tide of millions of people on the streets of Manhattan, for example, or in trains packed
with people, yet feeling alienated and lonely.
"People could not see one another"—such is darkness. Social cooperation and awareness of
the condition of one's fellow—such is light. May we live to see the day when "all the
Israelites enjoy light in their dwellings."
Translated by Rachel Rowen
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