ישעיהו, פרק ט״ז, פסוק ד׳

In times of war, the fate of refugees seeking shelter becomes a profound test of humanity. A dramatic plea and a sharp rebuke are directed toward Moab, focusing on the plight of those fleeing from a cruel and relentless conqueror. The primary approach among commentators is that the speaker is God, or a prophet speaking on His behalf, and the refugees are the exiled Israelites. From this perspective, the message serves as a stern reprimand to Moab. When the Israelites fled from the plundering Assyrian king, Sennacherib, Moab should have offered them a safe haven and allowed them to hide within its borders [רד״ק, מצודת דוד, אבן עזרא, אברבנאל]. Others present a different dynamic, suggesting that the minister of Moab is the one pleading with Mount Zion to provide shelter for his own displaced Moabite people [מלבי״ם]. Alternatively, the message is a future directive for Moab to hide Israelite refugees. Having suffered its own devastating ruin and plundering, Moab is expected to act out of deep empathy and a shared understanding of the pain of displacement [רש״י, אברבנאל].

The narrative then shifts to describe a scene of absolute destruction, which serves to reinforce the message to Moab. One perspective understands this as the underlying reason why Moab should have protected the Israelites: wicked empires do not last forever. The ruthless enemy, who sucked the life out of nations, plundered their wealth, and trampled their lands, is destined for ruin. This promise of justice was fulfilled when Sennacherib's mighty army ultimately fell outside the walls of Jerusalem [מצודת דוד, רד״ק, אבן עזרא, שד״ל, אברבנאל].

In contrast, another interpretation reads the destruction as a vivid, pastoral metaphor for total economic and physical collapse. Moab is compared to a livestock animal that produces milk, with its wealth and resources representing the milk itself. The enemy is the milker, greedily draining the nation of all its goodness. When the plunderer finally stops coming to the land, it is not an act of mercy, but simply because there is absolutely nothing left to take. The land has been drained of its abundance, and even the livestock that once roamed and trampled the earth have been completely wiped out [רש״י, מלבי״ם, ביאור שטיינזלץ]. To capture the sheer scale of this devastation, the ruin is described through three distinct stages of loss. It speaks of things being completely eradicated from existence, a slow and agonizing process of dwindling into nothingness, and the tragic absence of what was once entirely whole and full [מלבי״ם].