הִנְנִ֣י אֵלַ֗יִךְ נְאֻם֙ יְהוָ֣ה צְבָאֹ֔ות וְהִבְעַרְתִּ֤י בֶֽעָשָׁן֙ רִכְבָּ֔הּ וּכְפִירַ֖יִךְ תֹּ֣אכַל חָ֑רֶב וְהִכְרַתִּי מֵאֶ֨רֶץ֙ טַרְפֵּ֔ךְ וְלֹֽא־יִשָּׁמַ֥ע עֹ֖וד קֹ֥ול מַלְאָכֵֽכֵה׃
In the fiery oracles of prophecy, language does not merely describe events — it enacts them. Nowhere is this more evident than in Nachum 2:13, where the Lord Himself speaks directly to Nineveh, declaring divine judgment with martial fury. The verse brims with violent imagery: chariots burned to smoke, cubs devoured by swords, messengers silenced forever.
But beneath the poetic surface lies a subtle grammatical phenomenon that transforms this declaration from a mere warning into a performative act of doom. The verb הִבְעַרְתִּי — “I will burn” — stands out not only for its vividness but for its rare and pointed use in prophetic speech. This is no ordinary verb of destruction; it is a linguistic weapon wielded by God in direct address. In exploring this word, we uncover how Biblical Hebrew uses verbal morphology not just to narrate divine wrath, but to embody it.
“I Will Burn” — A Verb That Speaks With Fire
Let us begin with the central verb of the verse:
וְהִבְעַרְתִּי בֶּעָשָׁן רִכְבָּהּ
This translates as: “and I will burn her chariots in smoke.” The key word here is הִבְעַרְתִּי, a form of the root ב-ע-ר. While often meaning “to burn,” this verb carries a broader semantic range including “to consume,” “to destroy completely,” and even “to kindle anger.”
What makes this form especially striking is its binyan: hiphil perfect first person common singular. In simpler terms, it is a completed action performed by the speaker — God — in the context of a prophetic threat.
| Word | Root | Form | Literal Translation | Grammatical Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| הִבְעַרְתִּי | ב-ע-ר | Hiphil perfect, 1cs | “I have burned” / “I will burn” | Used in prophetic speech to declare irreversible divine action. |
This is not a future tense verb in the conventional sense — it is a declaration of certainty, as if the act has already been completed in the divine mind. The use of the perfective aspect emphasizes finality and inevitability.
The Prophetic Perfect: When Language Becomes Fate
In Biblical Hebrew prophecy, verbs often defy conventional temporality. The prophetic perfect — using the perfect (completed) form to describe an event that is yet to occur — is a hallmark of divine speech in texts like Isaiah, Jeremiah, and here, Nahum.
Why does God speak this way? Because in the world of prophecy, the divine word is efficacious. To say something is to do it. Thus, when God declares:
וְהִבְעַרְתִּי — “and I have burned…”
— He is not recounting the past, nor merely predicting the future. He is performing the act through speech itself. The verb functions as a kind of performative utterance, akin to “I hereby declare war.”
This usage appears elsewhere in contexts of divine decree:
וְנָתַתִּי אוֹתָם לִפְחִים בְּכָל מַמְלְכוֹת הָאָרֶץ (Yirmeyahu 29:18)
There too, the perfect tense expresses divine determination. The outcome is sealed in language before it unfolds in history.
Burning Words: The Poetry of Destruction
The choice of הִבְעַרְתִּי over other verbs of destruction — like שָׁרַף (“to burn”) or אִכֵּל (“to devour”) — is deliberate. ב-ע-ר evokes both fire and rage. It is used elsewhere in contexts of divine anger:
וַיִּחַר אַף יְהוָה בְּמֹשֶׁה (Shemot 4:14) — “And the anger of the Lord burned against Moses”
In our verse, the same root unites the themes of divine wrath and physical annihilation. God’s anger is not abstract — it is embodied in flame and smoke.
Furthermore, the phrase בֶּעָשָׁן (“in smoke”) reinforces this image. The chariots — symbols of Assyrian military might — are reduced to ash. What was once a source of pride becomes a cloud of oblivion.
From Speech to Sword: The Unstoppable Flow of Divine Judgment
Following this initial declaration, the rest of the verse continues in the same vein:
- וּכְפִירַ֖יִךְ תֹּ֣אכַל חָ֑רֶב — “your young lions will be devoured by the sword”
- וְהִכְרַתִּי מֵאֶ֨רֶץ טַרְפֵּ֔ךְ — “I will cut off your prey from the land”
- וְלֹֽא־יִשָּׁמַ֥ע עוֹד קוֹל מַלְאָכֵֽכֵה — “no more shall the voice of your messengers be heard”
Each clause escalates the judgment, building toward silence — the ultimate end of imperial power. But it all begins with the decisive act of burning, spoken by God in the perfect tense. From there, the sentence flows forward like a river of fate, unstoppable and irreversible.
The Final Word: Silence as Syntax
The verse ends not with fire, but with silence:
וְלֹֽא־יִשָּׁמַ֥ע עוֹד קוֹל מַלְאָכֵֽכֵה
Where once the Assyrian empire sent forth messengers with demands and decrees, now there will be nothing. The finality of this line mirrors the grammatical structure of the beginning — a negative + imperfect verb — creating a frame around the entire oracle.
It is a poetic echo of divine sovereignty: what is spoken is done. What is declared is destroyed. And what is silenced, never speaks again.