The Torah introduces the meraglim stating, kulam anashim, “All were men.” Chazal explain anashim as a term reserved for men who are honorable, upright, men of stature. This explanation only intensifies the question that is on everyone’s mind: How did such distinguished personalities err so egregiously? Their reaction and the manner in which they later riled up the nation led to the people’s ultimate exclusion from entering Eretz Yisrael, transforming that night – the Ninth of Av – into our national day of mourning. If these men were such kesheirim, men of integrity, how did they fall so catastrophically?
I think the Torah is teaching a subtle lesson with the use of the word, kesheirim, as opposed to the word, tzaddikim. Being upright does not automatically qualify one for a position of leadership. Furthermore, varied and progressive levels of leadership exist.
The meraglim were undoubtedly good men when they left for their mission. Being observant, sincere, spiritually and ethically refined, however, does not necessarily prepare one for the many challenges that he may confront. These men were kesheirim in their personal lives, but leadership is an entirely different type of life. It demands much more than personal righteousness. A leader must possess vision that is able to see beyond the reach of the average man. He must perceive, not only what is happening at the moment, but also the possibilities and manifestations that extend far beyond the here and now.
A leader must possess clarity of vision, so that during moments of uncertainty, he is able to see through the ambiguities that present themselves. Courage in the face of danger — not shying away from a confrontation with evil — is a vital quality without which one should/may not lead. The only thing worse than a lack of leadership is a weak leader. Above all, we all have insecurities in one way or another. A leader must rise above his own insecurities when the destiny of others depends on him. A leader often stands alone – until he either convinces others, or they see the light of unvarnished truth. I can go on enumerating other qualities of leadership, but I have made the point: honorability and leadership are not synonymous.
Last, and it is this area in which I feel that the meraglim, due to their personal weaknesses, were responsible for the entire tragedy that ensued as a result of their slanderous report. Leadership is a sacred trust. A leader must be an achrai, take responsibility, carrying the burdens of the people and placing their needs above his own. The meraglim abused this trust. Perhaps when they left for their mission, they were filled with confidence, until they felt insecure and insignificant in comparison to the inhabitants of Canaan. Suddenly, a psychological shift in their perspective emerged: Va’niheyeh b’eineinu k’chagavim v’chein ha’yinu b’eineihem, “We were like grasshoppers in our own eyes.” Before the inhabitants of the land viewed them as insignificant, they saw themselves as such. Stronger than the fear they had of their enemy’s strength was the fear they had of their own inadequacies. A leader who doubts himself will infect all those around him with his lack of conviction. Thus, when they returned, what was to be a simple reconnaissance mission transformed turned into an expression of their personal vulnerability and weak resolve. They were not wicked men, but they were the wrong men for the job.
A well-known story is told of one of the past century’s most celebrated secular leaders – Winston Churchill. His leadership during World War II, not only provided Great Britain with the resolve to fight and remain strong, but it also generated courage in the hearts of his allies. In 1940, Great Britain stood alone against the might of Nazi Germany. By then, much of Europe had fallen or capitulated. Bombs rained upon London on a nightly basis. The population was gripped with fear, many believing that surrender to Germany was inevitable. Churchill, however, refused to permit despair to gain a foothold. He stood up before Parliament and declared the following, words with which his name has become synonymous: “We shall fight on the beaches… We shall fight on the landing grounds … We shall fight in the fields and in the streets… We shall never surrender!”
Churchill was privy to the same intelligence that guided his armies. The situation was truly bleak. He saw the same danger that everyone else saw. What distinguished him was his refusal to allow fear to define him, to shape the future. His conviction was infectious, so that he steadied a frightened nation by transforming anxiety into determination.
History is filled with righteous, honorable individuals – tzaddikim and kesheirim. Only a rare few are able to uplift the spirits of the downtrodden and infuse them with the necessary fortitude to reach their destiny.
Horav Elchonan Wasserman, zl, was one of the foremost Torah leaders in pre-World War II Europe. He served as Rosh Yeshivah of Baranovich, and was known for his fiery devotion to Torah. His clarity of hashkafah, world outlook, was the product of uncompromised conviction. He viewed life through the unclouded prism of Torah. For him, Torah was much more than a guide – it was the defining lens through which we understand every event, every challenge, and every historical development. While fear and confusion clouded the vision of many, his perspective remained firm and undistorted.
As the situation for European Jewry deteriorated during World War II, Rav Elchonon traveled to raise funds and strengthen Torah institutions. Many urged him to leave Europe and seek safety in America. It was a reasonable suggestion; he was a world leader whose survival could have ensured continued Torah leadership abroad.
Rav Elchonon felt an overriding sense of duty. He reasoned that, if Heaven had placed him in Europe during such a time, he must remain with his students. Leadership, to him, meant not abandoning the flock that was in danger. His clarity of hashkafah did not merely illuminate his own path, it became a beacon for an entire generation seeking direction in a world of darkness.
Even as the Nazi noose tightened, he continued teaching Torah and strengthening faith. In his final public address, delivered shortly before his murder, he spoke words that have become legendary. He explained that the suffering of the Jewish people was not random – it was a spiritual test. He urged his students to sanctify themselves and remain steadfast in faith. Soon after, Rav Elchonon and many of his students were taken to their deaths in the Kovno Ghetto and later murdered (in 1941).
