5 min read

God Sent Two Hornets Ahead of Israel to Blind the Amorites

The rabbis called the victories over Sihon and Og equal to the Red Sea. The weapon God used was not fire or flood but two divine hornets.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Claim That Stopped Readers Cold
  2. The Hornets God Sent Ahead
  3. What Israel Found at the Battle
  4. Why the Comparison to the Red Sea Holds

The Claim That Stopped Readers Cold

The rabbis of the Talmud made a comparison that struck many as excessive. They said the victories over Sihon and Og were as great a miracle as the splitting of the Red Sea. Some went further: equal to Joshua's conquest of thirty-one Canaanite kings combined. The Red Sea had stopped armies cold since Moses described it. Two battles in Transjordan, against kings whose names most people struggle to remember, placed beside the founding miracle of Israelite existence.

The tradition's answer is a matter of context. The Red Sea miracle happened to a people with nothing. They had no army, no formation, no fighting experience, no history of organized combat. They were slaves days out from slavery with the most powerful military machine in the ancient world closing behind them. God saved them because they could not possibly save themselves. The scale of the miracle matched the scale of their helplessness.

The victories over Sihon and Og happened to a different people. Forty years in the wilderness had forged Israel into a functioning military force. They had officers and formations and combat history. They had Moses. They had won battles before. And still, without direct divine intervention, they could not have done it, because Sihon and Og were not ordinary enemies.

The Hornets God Sent Ahead

God's instrument in the Amorite campaigns was not water or fire or plague. It was hornets. Two divine hornets went ahead of the Israelite army into the territory of the Amorites. These were not insects in the ordinary sense. The tradition describes them as hornets of supernatural scale and purpose, sent ahead of the army as the advance element of the assault, moving through the Amorite positions before the first Israelite soldier crossed the border.

What the hornets did was specific. They blinded the Amorite soldiers who stood ready to fight and then stung them into an additional layer of incapacity. The blind soldier cannot identify targets. The blind soldier who is also in pain from stings cannot form lines or respond to commands or function as part of a coordinated defense. The Israelite army came in behind the hornets, against opponents who had been systematically disabled before the engagement began.

What Israel Found at the Battle

The account in Ginzberg's synthesis describes what the Israelites encountered when they engaged: an enemy that could not see them, could not organize against them, could not execute the defensive formations that made a fortified city defendable. Sihon, who the tradition describes as a king feared from one end of the known world to the other, was leading men who could not see. Og, who had survived the flood and carried the pre-Flood scale of the Rephaim, was commanding soldiers stung into incapacity.

Moses, who had been afraid of Og, won a battle against a blind enemy that God had disabled before the fight. The miracle was not the scale of the victory. It was the preparation that made the victory possible. Two hornets, sent ahead of the army, had done what the army itself could not have done against opponents of this kind.

Why the Comparison to the Red Sea Holds

The tradition's insistence on comparing these victories to the Red Sea rests on a single point: in both cases, Israel was fighting above its own weight class. At the sea, the weight class difference was absolute: slaves against cavalry. In Transjordan, the difference was significant but less extreme: a wilderness army against giants whose names had been synonyms for military power for a generation. In both cases, God closed the gap. The instrument was different. The logic was the same.

The hornets are the key. Without them, even a seasoned Israelite army runs against opponents who are simply larger and stronger. With them, the opponents are disabled before contact, and the army is fighting something that cannot fight back effectively. God sent the hornets because the hornets were what the situation required, not fire, not flood, not the drama of the sea wall. Two insects, sent ahead, were sufficient to make the victories over Sihon and Og equal to the founding miracle of the nation.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

4 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Legends of the Jews 5:108Legends of the Jews

In Jewish tradition, the battles against Sihon and Og, the kings of the Amorites, loom incredibly large. The sages even equated these triumphs to the monumental victory over Pharaoh at the Red Sea!

In Legends of the Jews, these weren't just minor skirmishes. They were huge. Some say they were as important as Joshua's later conquest of thirty-one kings! Ginzberg, drawing from various Midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sources, explains that Israel should have sung songs of praise then, just like they did after escaping Pharaoh. It was that significant.

In a way, they did. David, much later, composed songs of gratitude for God’s help in those very victories against Sihon and Og. It's as if David was retroactively acknowledging the incredible importance of what had occurred generations before.

How did these victories actually happen? Was it all just mighty warriors clashing steel? Well, yes, in part. But Jewish tradition often layers the physical with the miraculous, the seen with the unseen. In this case, it wasn’t just swords and shields. God sent… hornets.

Yes, you read that right. Hornets.

Now, we're not talking about your average buzzing nuisances. These were divinely appointed agents of destruction. Midrashic sources tell us that two hornets were sent after every Amorite warrior. One stung one eye, the other the other. And their venom wasn't just painful – it was lethal.

The Zohar, the foundational text of Jewish mysticism, adds another layer to the story. These hornets, it says, remained on the eastern side of the Jordan River. They didn’t physically cross over with the Israelites into Canaan. However, that didn't stop them from wreaking havoc on the Canaanites on the western side.

How, you ask? Well, these hornets would stand on the eastern bank and spit their venom across the river! Any Canaanite unfortunate enough to be struck by this airborne toxin would instantly go blind and become disarmed. An entire army, weakened and vulnerable, not by direct combat, but by… divine insect warfare.

What does it all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that even the smallest of creatures can be instruments of immense power. Maybe it's about how divine intervention can work in mysterious, unexpected ways. Or maybe it's a reminder that even seemingly small victories can have ripple effects far beyond what we initially imagine. The venom of those hornets, after all, reached across a river and changed the course of history.

Full source
Legends of the Jews, VI. Jacob, The War With The AmoritesLegends of the Jews

The familiar telling remembers the immediate aftermath – the vengeance of Simeon and Levi. But what about Jacob and his family? Did they just pack up and leave? Well, according to the Legends of the Jews, as retold by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, there’s a whole chapter of conflict and conquest that often goes unmentioned.

At first, things were relatively peaceful. Jacob and his household returned to Shechem, settling in and establishing themselves. But this peace didn't last. After seven years, the surrounding Amorite tribes began to feel threatened. "Is it not enough that they have slain all the men of Shechem?" they asked, according to Ginzberg. "Should they be permitted now to take possession of their land, too?" And so, they gathered their forces to make war on the sons of Jacob.

Enter Judah. He becomes the hero of our story, leaping into the fray against the allied kings. The first adversary? Jashub, the king of Tappuah, a warrior seemingly clad in iron and brass from head to toe. Ginzberg paints a vivid picture of Jashub, mounted on his horse, casting spears with deadly accuracy, a formidable foe.

Judah is undeterred. He picks up a stone – a massive one, weighing sixty sela'im (a unit of weight) – and hurls it at Jashub, who was, and this detail is wonderfully specific, one hundred and seventy-seven ells and one-third of an ell away! The stone strikes Jashub's shield, unhorsing him. A fierce duel ensues, shields shatter, and in a moment of quick thinking, Judah wrests Jashub’s own shield from him and uses Jashub’s own sword to cut off his feet, then his head.

The battle doesn't end there, of course. Nine of Jashub's followers appear, ready to avenge their king. Judah, resourceful as ever, uses another well-aimed stone to disable the first attacker, grabs his shield, and defends himself against the remaining eight. It's a whirlwind of action!

Then, help arrives. Levi joins the fight, killing Elon, the king of Gaash, with an arrow. Judah dispatches the remaining eight. Even Jacob himself gets involved, slaying Zerori, the king of Shiloh! The Amorites, faced with this onslaught, lose their nerve and flee. The sons of Jacob pursue, each slaying a thousand men, according to Ginzberg’s retelling.

The story doesn't stop at Shechem. The sons of Jacob push onward to Hazor, where they face an even more severe encounter. Jacob himself takes down Pirathon, the king of Hazor, as well as Pasusi, Laban (king of Aram, no less!), and Shebir. Judah is, again, the first to scale the walls of Hazor, taking on four warriors at once before his brother Naphtali can even offer assistance. Together, Judah and Naphtali stand on the wall, dealing death to the enemy.

The other sons of Jacob follow, and they utterly destroy the Amorite host. They conquer Hazor, killing everyone and taking all the spoils. The next day, they move on to Sartan, and another bloody battle ensues. Sartan is a heavily fortified city, but the sons of Jacob are relentless. Judah, again leading the charge, scales the walls, followed by Gad, Simeon, Levi, Reuben, Dan, Naphtali, and Issachar. They capture the city.

According to Legends of the Jews, the sons of Jacob subdue five more cities in just five days: Tappuah, Arbel, Shiloh, Mahanaim, and Gaash. Finally, on the sixth day, the Amorites, utterly defeated, come to Jacob and his sons unarmed, begging for peace.

And here’s where things take an unexpected turn. The sons of Jacob agree to peace. The Amorites cede Timna and the land of Harariah to them. They also return all the stolen cattle and spoil, with a bonus of two head for every one they took. Jacob and his sons return to their respective areas, and the Amorites, finally, leave them in peace.

What are we to make of this? It's a far cry from the peaceful shepherd image we sometimes have of Jacob and his sons. This is a story of conquest, of military prowess, and of a people establishing their territory by force. It's a reminder that the stories of the Torah, and the legends that surround them, are complex and many-sided. They offer us glimpses into a world far removed from our own, a world of tribal conflict, of fierce warriors, and of a people struggling to find their place in a land that was not always welcoming. And, perhaps, it makes us consider the price of peace, and the lengths to which people will go to secure it.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:93Legends of the Jews

Legends of the Jews turns to Moses Fears the Giant King Sihon of the Amorites.

He was facing Sihon, king of the Amorites, and the prospect of war. Now, Sihon wasn't just any king; he was a giant. Can you imagine the dread Moses must have felt? According to Legends of the Jews, Moses was "sorely afraid."

God, in His infinite wisdom, didn't just leave Moses to fend for himself. He intervened, but not in the way you might expect. Instead of directly smiting Sihon, God took a more…strategic approach.

He put Sihon's and Og's guardian angels in chains. Angels! These celestial beings, tasked with protecting Sihon and his people, were now powerless. It's a fascinating glimpse into the cosmic battle being waged alongside the earthly one.

And then God spoke to Moses, saying, "Behold, I have begun to deliver up Sihon and his land before thee: begin to possess, that thou mayest inherit his land." The assurance is powerful. It's not just about conquest; it's about inheritance, about claiming what is rightfully theirs.

Legends of the Jews, drawing from various Midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sources, emphasizes that once the angels of Sihon and his people had fallen, Moses had nothing more to fear. His enemies were already defeated. The real battle had been won on a higher plane.

But God wasn’t done. He gave Moses another assurance, a sign for all the world to see. He promised that "He would begin to put the dread of him and the fear of him upon the peoples that are under the whole heaven," by bidding the sun to stand still during his war against Sihon. Imagine that. The sun, halting in its celestial journey, a clear and undeniable declaration that God battled for Moses.

So, what does this all mean? It's more than just a story about a war. It’s a reminder that even when we face seemingly insurmountable odds, there are forces working on our behalf, forces we can't always see. And perhaps, just perhaps, the biggest battles are fought not on the battlefield, but in the unseen realms, where angels clash and divine will unfolds. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, what unseen battles are being fought for us, right now?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:101Legends of the Jews

I'm not just talking metaphorically big, but physically, impossibly huge. Let's

Og wasn't just tall; he was…unwieldy, let's say. Imagine someone so massive that a regular wooden chair or bed would just crumble beneath him. Ginzberg, in his Legends of the Jews, paints a vivid picture, noting that Og's breadth was half his height – a far cry from the usual one-to-three proportion. This wasn't just a big guy; this was a being built on a different scale entirely.

Get this: In his younger days, this colossal figure was actually a slave to Abraham! Can you imagine? According to some traditions, Og is none other than Eliezer, Abraham's steward. This connection is fascinating! We find in Sefer ha-Yashar that Nimrod gifted Og to Abraham! One story, recounted in Legends of the Jews based on various Midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) sources, says that Abraham once rebuked Eliezer so fiercely that a tooth fell out. Abraham, resourceful as ever, then fashioned the tooth into a bed!

Og’s appetite matched his size. We read that he devoured a thousand oxen, or an equivalent amount of other animals, daily! And he needed a thousand measures of liquid to wash it all down. That's some serious catering!

So, what happened to this giant servant? Abraham freed him as a reward for his work in finding Rebekah as a bride for Isaac. We find this in Ginzberg's retelling, drawing from various Midrashim. Quite the task, wouldn't you say? And then, in a twist that speaks to the complexities of divine justice, God made him a king. Why? The Midrash explains that God wanted to give Og his reward in this world, so he couldn't claim one in the world to come.

As king, Og founded sixty cities, each surrounded by walls that were, get this, sixty miles high at their lowest point! It boggles the mind, doesn’t it? A evidence of Og's impossible scale, and perhaps a reminder that even those who seem larger than life are ultimately part of a story much bigger than themselves.

What does Og’s story leave us to ponder? Perhaps it's about the unexpected roles people play in our lives, or the strange ways that justice can be served. Maybe it's just a reminder that the universe of Jewish lore is filled with characters and stories that push the boundaries of imagination. Whatever it is, the tale of Og, the giant king, is one that sticks with you.

Full source