R. Moshe Zuriel, the Aderet, Sonya Diskin, and ChatGPT

Marc B. Shapiro

1. It is hard to believe that more than a year and a half has passed since R. Moshe Zuriel was taken from us. At the time of his passing, I intended to write a lengthy appreciation of him, but I was never able to get around to it. Still, I feel compelled to say something about R. Zuriel, if only to express my hakarat ha-tov for all that I learned from him. Although we never met, we exchanged numerous emails. It reached the point where, whenever I had a question about a passage in R. Kook, I would turn to him. I was also happy to arrange for three of his posts to appear on the Seforim Blog—see here.

Although R. Zuriel was my senior both in age and certainly in wisdom, he honored me by treating me like an old friend. Here is just one sample from an email he sent to me.

Your reference to Rabbi Hirsch’s praises for Schiller’s writings is a Godsend for me. I am elated at his words.

I myself was born in Frankfort am-Main, and consider myself an avid follower of his teachings, which strike a chord in my heart. The expressions in this Memorial Speech are something fabulous. Thank you again for bringing this to my attention. Rav Kook too speaks many a time about Universal Values, which are evident here and there in the Gentile Communities. We must have a link to our fellow humans.

Before we started communicating by email, we sent old fashioned letters. Here is one letter from December 2003. R. Zuriel followed Rav Kook’s approach—discussed by me in The Old Will be Renewed, the New Will be Sanctified—that the Sanhedrin will be able to actualize new moral and religious insights that have become apparent. These moral and religious insights should be viewed as Torah truths that were revealed gradually over time, meaning that we have advanced from the morality at the time of the giving of the Torah. The Sanhedrin will have the final say as to when we are dealing with authentic Torah values vs. non-Jewish values that people are trying to insert into Jewish life.

 

Here are two other letters from R. Zuriel where you can see his strong religious spirit.

Here is the final part of another letter he wrote me.

I first heard of R. Zuriel when I was a student at Beit Midrash le-Torah (BMT) in 1984–1985. I happened to find his sefer, Beit Yehezkel: Hilkhot Deot, on the shelf. I knew nothing about the author but found the book interesting and began to go through it. I never told R. Zuriel that this was the first sefer I ever went through. In school, we studied Chumash and Gemara, but I had never before picked up an independent sefer and tried to work through it on my own.

One day, while I was learning the sefer, someone noticed and mentioned that there was something controversial in it—namely, that R. Zuriel praises kippot serugot. Even then, I was interested in controversial texts, and I carefully combed through the book, unsuccessfully trying to find the page where he offered this praise. I later heard this story on other occasions as well, so I assumed that the volume I had been using had been censored and that the provocative passage had been removed. That was undoubtedly my first experience with what I thought was a censored text. Maybe that moment planted the seeds that would only come to fruition decades later in Changing the Immutable.

It was only many years later that I learned R. Zuriel had published two books under the title Beit Yehezkel, and lo and behold, I eventually found the passage about kippot serugot on p. 194 of the first edition.

Incidentally, I think many will be surprised to learn that R. Zvi Yehudah Kook—whose yeshiva and followers became such an important force in the kippah serugah world—actually preferred a black kippah over a kippah serugah, not just for himself but for everyone. It is true that he did not make a big deal about it, but we need to be honest about his opinion. Even when presented with two students, one wearing a small black kippah and the other a large kippah serugah, he expressed his preference for the black kippah.[1]

In fact, R. Zvi Yehudah would have even preferred that students at Merkaz ha-Rav wear a hat and jacket, though he never made an issue of it. He did, however, tell at least some of his students who became rabbis that they should wear rabbinic garb—which today generally means a black suit and hat. He wasn’t entirely consistent in this regard, and I suppose that explains the varied styles of dress among his rabbinic students: some look no different than haredi rabbis, others wear a kippah serugah along with a hat, and still others wear a kippah serugah without a hat.[2]

For those who want to learn more about R. Zuriel, his website can be found here. It is truly remarkable to see the vast array of books he published, covering so many different areas of Torah.[3] You will also find there the three volumes of writings by Naftali Hirz Wessely, including material from manuscript, which R. Zuriel published. Interestingly, his name does not appear in these volumes as the one who prepared them for publication. Instead, he used pseudonyms—likely to avoid becoming embroiled in controversy. Yet it is worth noting that, in the years before his death, he began writing about Wessely under his own name and openly defended his decision to publish Wessely’s works. See here.

Missing from his website is his first edition of Wessely’s Sefer ha-Midot, which was published in 2002. The site only includes the later edition, which incorporates previously unpublished material. Yet the first edition is extremely valuable and deserves to be uploaded as well. This is because it contains a lengthy introduction that establishes the religious acceptability of Wessely, citing numerous great rabbis who referenced him positively. (For examples of censorship involving Wessely in the reprinted works of R. Moses Schick and R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, see my post here.) This introduction is significantly different from the one that appears in the second edition. While most of it is also found in the introduction to R. Zuriel’s edition of Wessely’s Yein Levanon (written under the pseudonym Yaakov Segal), for some reason, the version of Yein ha-Levanon on the website omits this entire introduction. Also missing is R. Hayyim Druckman’s haskamah and a letter from Wessely that originally appeared in the first publication of Yein Levanon (Berlin, 1775).

What is particularly noteworthy is that the first edition of Sefer ha-Midot includes a haskamah from R. Zuriel himself, in which he seeks to establish the legitimacy of Wessely. I don’t know—and unfortunately never asked R. Zuriel—why, if he was willing to write a haskamah for Wessely’s book, he wasn’t also willing to identify himself as the editor. The haskamah is formally addressed to “Rabbi Hayyim Lifshitz,” the supposed editor of the book—but Lifshitz is a fictional figure, and the lengthy introduction attributed to him was, in fact, written by R. Zuriel.

When it comes to an author providing a haskamah to his own work published anonymously or under a pseudonym, we do have precedent. R. EliyahuDavid Rabinowitz-Teomim (the Aderet) did this with the only two, of his over 120 works, that were published in his lifetime. In 1889 he published Zekher la-Mikdash (on Hakhel). Here is the title page from the first printing (later printings include the Aderet’s name). In his autobiography, the Aderet mentions writing the book.[4]

On the title page, instead of an author’s name, it states: חובר מאת פלא“י. This is clearly intended to evoke Judges 13:18, where the angel says to Manoah, “Wherefore askest thou after my name, seeing it is hidden (פלאי)?” What’s puzzling is that the title page spells it as פלא“י—with an apostrophe between the last two letters—rather than the more straightforward פלאי. It has been suggested that the final three letters allude to the author’s name, “Elijah” (אלי), and that the פ stands for Pinhas, since Pinhas is traditionally identified with Elijah.[5] But to me, this interpretation feels far-fetched.

Here is the haskamah which is followed by the Aderet’s many notes to the book, as if he is commenting on someone else’s sefer.

In 1893 the Aderet anonymously published Aharit ha-Shanim (on the law of Vidui Ma’aser). Here is the title page of the first printing (subsequent printings include the Aderet’s name).

This book is also mentioned in the Aderet’s autobiography.[6] Unlike in Zekher la-Mikdash, in Aharit ha-Shanim there is a hint in the Aderet’s introduction to his authorship (emphasis added):

ע“כ העלמתי שמי והליטותי פני באדרתי לבל ישאו פני

Furthermore, anyone who looks up the biblical verse which is the origin of the expression והליטותי פני באדרתי will find that it is in 1 Kings 19:13 and describes Elijah wrapping his face in his mantle. The Aderet’s first name is Elijah, so this is obviously also an allusion to the author’s identity.

Here is the Aderet’s haskamah to this book. As with Zekher la-Mikdash, the haskamah is followed by many pages of notes to the book, under the heading Devar Eliyahu.

I assume the Aderet must have felt somewhat awkward referring to himself as ha-ma’or ha-gadol (המאוה“ג), yet everyone understands that such honorifics are expected in haskamot. In fact, had he not used this kind of language, he might well have been accused of failing to show proper respect for the author—since people did not know that he himself was the author.

In 2005, Aharit ha-Shanim was reprinted by Ahavat Shalom, and they were fortunate to have access to the Aderet’s own copy, which contains many additional marginal notes. These were included in the new edition.

I found another case where the author wrote a haskamah to his own book, but as you can see, the haskamah is not a typical haskamah.

Here is the title page of R. Yaakov Goldman’s Peret ve-Olelot (Jerusalem, 1930).

Here is the haskamah.

Speaking of the Aderet and haskamot, here is a chance to deal with a report that has assumed legendary status in the Merkaz ha-Rav world. R. Zvi Yehudah Kook claimed that the lengthy haskamah of the Aderet for the Chafetz Chaim’s Likutei Halakhot was actually written by R. Kook.

Here is the haskamah:

 

The story told by R. Zvi Yehudah and recorded by R. Moshe Zvi Neriah in Sihot ha-Re’iyah, pp. 123-124, is as follows: R. Kook visited his former father-in-law, the Aderet, while the Aderet was serving as the rav of the city of Mir. During this visit, a letter arrived from the Chafetz Chaim requesting a haskamah for his new book, Likutei Halakhot. He wished to have the haskamah sent as soon as possible, even on the very day his letter arrived, and included some portions of the book. The Aderet was very impressed and showed R. Kook what the Chafetz Chaim had sent. Due to his busy schedule, the Aderet was unable to write the haskamah that day, so he asked R. Kook to write it. R. Kook wrote the impressive haskamah that was later printed.

After R. Kook wrote the haskamah, the Aderet read it over and was ready to sign it. However, he stated that he could not take credit for a Torah explanation suggested by R. Kook, so he altered the text of the haskamah, attributing the explanation to R. Kook, the rav of Bausk. This haskamah is the very first one in Haskamot ha-Re’iyah (Jerusalem, 2017).

It is a very nice story, but is it true? Let me present a source that seems to contradict what R. Zvi Yehudah reported. In the Aderet’s autobiography, Seder Eliyahu, p. 100, the Aderet recounts how, due to a dispute in his city, the Chafetz Chaim came there to try to make peace. The Aderet then writes that a couple of weeks later he wrote the haskamah for Likutei Halakhot.

אז נתתי הסכמתי על ס‘ לקוטי הלכות להגה“צ בעל ח“ח שליט“א

Presumably, it was when the Chafetz Chaim visited the city that he gave the Aderet his work. If R. Kook had written the haskamah, wouldn’t the Aderet have mentioned it in his memoir? Furthermore, in R. Kook’s Eder ha-Yekar, p. 47, he says the following about his father-in-law:

כל הספרים הרבים שנתן עליהם הסכמתו, עבר עליהם מראשית עד אחרית וברוב העיר עליהם הערות

According to R. Kook, the Aderet would not give a haskamah unless he had read the entire book. However, the story as told by R. Zvi Yehudah suggests that the Aderet gave a haskamah without having gone through the book.

Based on the two points I have mentioned, I think it is legitimate to raise questions about the story told by R. Zvi Yehudah. It would make more sense to assume that the Aderet wrote the haskamah while R. Kook was in Mir and that the Aderet discussed the haskamah with R. Kook (which would explain the mention of R. Kook in the haskamah). But it is hard to reconcile R. Zvi Yehudah’s story with the Aderet’s own testimony in his memoir or with R. Kook’s description of how the Aderet would study a book before giving his haskamah.

A completely different version of the story involving the Aderet, R. Kook, and the haskamah was told by R. Kook’s nephew, R. Refael Kook. In his version, the haskamah was written by R. Kook for another book by the Chafetz Chaim, Nidhei Yisrael. Here is the story as found in Simcha Raz’s An Angel Among Men.[7]

When the Chafetz Chayim zt”l finished writing Nidchei Yisrael, he came to the Aderet (R. Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Te’omim) to receive a letter of approbation for the book.

The Aderet kept the book’s proof sheets in order to look through them before writing his approbation. Unfortunately, however, he came down with pneumonia and was quite ill for several weeks. During that time, the Chafetz Chaim came back to receive the approbation he so anxiously waited for. The Aderet’s doctor, however, forbade him to exert himself in any way; so he was unable to write the letter.

The Chafetz Chayim was very disappointed, having made the trip just for the approbation. Don’t worry,” said the Aderet. “I just married off my daughter to R. Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook, who is greater than me in many areas. He will write the letter, and I will sign it.”

And so it was: The Rav wrote an approbation for Nidchei Yisrael and the Aderet signed it, thus forging a strong bond of friendship between the Chafetz Chayim and Rav Kook.

In this version, the Aderet says that R. Kook had just married his daughter. This is obviously incorrect as the Aderet’s haskamah to Nidhei Yisrael is dated 1894. Yet R. Kook married his daughter in 1886 and she passed away in 1889. In 1894 R. Kook was married to the niece of the Aderet, the daughter of his twin brother, R. Zvi Yehudah Rabinowitz-Teomim.

Here is the haskamah to Nidhei Yisrael.

In the Torah journal Me-Avnei ha-Makom 15 (2003), pp. 15-17, a section from the Aderet’s still unpublished 1878 work Oznei David appears. The Aderet notes that the Chafetz Chaim spent Shabbat with him and records some of their Torah conversations. One of the points he mentions is that the Chafetz Chaim asked him how one could eat at various Jewish inns, which were places where Jews would stay while traveling. The issue for the Chafetz Chaim wasn’t kashrut. In those days, people trusted other religious Jews, and the notion that an outside hashgachah was required in such circumstances had not yet been introduced.

What concerned the Chafetz Chaim was that most of the owners of these inns did not tovel their utensils. How then could people eat there? The Aderet explained—and he sees this as a novel view—that it is only forbidden for the owner to use utensils that have not been toveled. Yet there is no problem for others to make use of these utensils. What is of particular historical interest here is that we see that laxity regarding the toveling of utensils is not a recent phenomenon, but was even seen among religious Jews in nineteenth-century Lithuania.

Regarding the Chafetz Chaim and the Aderet, the tradition is that when the Chafetz Chaim writes, והעירני א‘ מחכמי הזמן, in his discussion about Birkat Kohanim in the Diaspora[8], the unnamed scholar he refers to the Aderet.[9] With one exception, the Chafetz Chaim never mentions contemporary scholars by name in the Mishnah Berurah. In Orah Hayyim 585, in Beur Halakhah s.v ve-tov, he refers to R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk. The story here is that they had a dispute at a rabbinic conference and the Chafetz Chaim thought that his language was perhaps too sharp.[10] As an apology of sorts, he broke with his convention and mentioned R. Meir Simhah by name.

It is widely reported how the Chafetz Chaim admired Rav Kook and refused to allow anyone to speak negatively about him.[11] Among the various sources cited in all the discussions I have seen, no one has referred to R. Yosef Zussman, Mi-Behirei Tzadikaya, pp. 168, 176, that when R. Zvi Yehudah Kook was together with the Chafetz Chaim he was afraid to mention who his father was, out of fear that the Chafetz Chaim would express some criticism of Rav Kook. In the end, his fear was unfounded, and the Chafetz Chaim, upon finding out who he was, told R. Zvi Yehudah that R. Kook was a good friend of his.[12] This anecdote was included in two separate letters from R. Zussman to R. Moshe Zvi Neriah. While R. Neriah used other information from these letters in his own writings, he did not include the detail of R. Zvi Yehudah being worried that the Chafetz Chaim would criticize his father.

I know that it is difficult for opponents of R. Kook to deal with the fact that the Chafetz Chaim had such positive feelings for him. I wonder if they would adopt the approach of the Brisker Rav, R. Isaac Zev Soloveitchik. When asked why the Chafetz Chaim showed respect for a certain Zionist rabbi (not R. Kook), the Brisker Rav replied with the following critical comment: “This is what happens when you don’t listen to lashon hara!”[13] In other words, sometimes it is important to be aware of negative reports about certain individuals so you know how to properly relate to them.[14]

2. I recently played around with ChatGPT and found some incredible things. First, its translation ability is at a very high level. I put in some sentences from nineteenth-century Haskalah literature and the translations that came back are excellent. There are times that ChatGPT gets it wrong, and you always need to carefully review its translations. Yet it seems that we have entered a new era when it comes to translations. Going forward, should translators just insert Hebrew texts into ChatGPT and then check for accuracy and edit the translation? Perhaps this is already being done, which would be a major development.

I also became aware that you can put an article, even a PDF, into ChatGPT and it will give you a summary. Look what happened when I put Haym Soloveitchik’s “Rupture and Reconstruction” in and asked for a summary.

Summary of “Rupture and Reconstruction” by Haym Soloveitchik

Thesis & Central Argument:

Soloveitchik examines the transformation of Orthodox Jewish life in the modern era, particularly the shift from a mimetic (lived, experiential) tradition to a text-based halakhic culture. This shift, he argues, resulted from the sociocultural disruptions caused by the Holocaust and modernization.

I. The Loss of Mimetic Tradition

Traditionally, Jewish practice was absorbed through daily life rather than studied in texts. Children learned religious conduct by watching their parents and community rather than through legalistic study. However, this mimetic tradition began to break down due to several historical forces:

Modernity and Migration:

Jews who emigrated from Eastern Europe to America and Israel found themselves in new environments where religious life was no longer reinforced by communal structures.

In America, the pressures of assimilation and middle-class life further eroded informal religious transmission.

The Holocaust’s Impact:

The Holocaust annihilated the communities and individuals who had embodied and passed down the mimetic tradition.

The post-Holocaust Orthodox world was largely composed of religious survivors and their children, who lacked an organic religious upbringing.

As a result, Jews turned increasingly to written texts to reconstruct religious life, rather than continuing a naturally transmitted tradition.

II. The Rise of Text-Based Religious Life

With the breakdown of mimetic tradition, Orthodox Jews sought religious guidance in texts rather than communal precedent. Several key shifts occurred:

Stringency (Chumra) and “Maximum Position Compliance”:

Halakhic observance became more rigid, as Orthodox Jews increasingly sought the “most correct” way to perform rituals based on written sources rather than communal norms.

Practices that had previously been instinctual or lenient were now analyzed and subject to stricter interpretations.

Proliferation of Halakhic Literature:

The 20th century saw an explosion of halakhic texts, guiding every aspect of Jewish observance in meticulous detail.

Religious practice became more standardized and universalized across communities, rather than based on local custom.

The “Ritualization” of Daily Life:

Previously intuitive religious behaviors, like eating matzah at the Passover seder, were now measured and standardized (e.g., precise “shiurim” for halakhic measurements).

This shift emphasized precision and rule-following over natural, community-based observance.

III. Broader Sociological Implications

Soloveitchik argues that this shift reflects a broader pattern in Jewish history:

A Response to Cultural Erosion:

The disappearance of traditional Jewish life and the rise of middle-class acculturation created a need for stricter religious boundaries.

As Jewish life became more indistinguishable from non-Jewish life, Orthodoxy sought to reinforce distinctiveness through increased textual rigor.

The Influence of the Holocaust on Jewish Memory:

The Holocaust left Orthodox Jews without direct cultural transmission from past generations.

In response, they “reconstructed” an idealized version of pre-Holocaust Jewish life, one that was more rigidly text-based and uniform than the reality of Eastern European Judaism.

The Decline of Jewish Asceticism:

Historically, Jewish tradition included a strong ascetic streak, which emphasized self-denial and wariness of physical pleasures.

However, as Orthodox Jews became more integrated into middle-class life, this asceticism waned, replaced by an emphasis on ritual precision rather than self-denial.

Conclusion:

Soloveitchik describes a fundamental transformation in contemporary Orthodox Judaism: the replacement of an organic, mimetic tradition with a text-driven, rule-oriented religious culture. This shift has led to increased religious stringency, a focus on halakhic literature, and a reconstruction of Jewish memory that aligns with contemporary Orthodox practice rather than historical reality.

* * * * * * *

[1] R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, Piskei Rabbenu, ed. Aviner, Orah Hayyim, p. 31. R. Shlomo Aviner recently published a book titled Pesikah ke-Halakhah. It consists of “strange pesakim” by unnamed rabbis, and R. Aviner’s response. On p. 169 the “strange pesak” he records is that someone who goes to movies should do so in another city, not where he lives, and replace his black kippah with a kippah serugah. This “pesak” is obviously based on Moed Katan 17a: “If a person sees that his evil inclination is gaining control over him, then he should go to a place where he is not known. He should wear black, wrap his head in black, and do as his heart desires [in private] and not desecrate the name of Heaven in public.”

There are those, such as R. Chaim Kanievsky, who have ruled that it is preferable to pray by oneself with a jacket and hat, than pray with a minyan without these items. (E.g., if you are in a situation where if you run home to get your jacket and hat you won’t be able to pray with a minyan.) See R. Yair Yanai, Nekiut ve-Kavod bi-Tefillah, p. 208. Yet see ibid., p. 98, that R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach and R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv ruled that prayer with a minyan is more important than wearing a jacket and hat. See similarly R. Meir Mazuz, Makor Ne’eman, vol. 3, no. 151 and R. Yitzhak Ratzaby, Olat Yitzhak, vol. 3, Orah Hayyim, no. 36. See also here at minute 18 where R. Reuven Feinstein strongly rejects the idea that it is better to pray by oneself with a hat than pray with a minyan without a hat. The entire video is noteworthy. Following the exchange about praying with a hat, R. Reuven is asked at what age should a boy be taught to wear his tzitzit out. He responds, “at no age”, and elaborates on why there is no reason to wear tzitzit out. See also at 34:55 where the questioner wants to know what to do about students who are brought up with an ideology that leads them to want to join the IDF. R. Reuven replies that if they want to join that is fine, and the army will probably turn them into a mensch.
[2] See R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, Piskei Rabbenu, ed. Aviner, Orah Hayyim, pp. 31-32.
[3] I remember how surprised I was when R. Zuriel published his Masoret Seyag la-Torah. My surprise was due to how R. Zuriel chose to deny that Jacob ben Hayyim Ibn Adonijah, the masoretic scholar and editor of the first Mikraot Gedolot, later apostatized. See my Limits of Orthodox Theology, p. 93 n. 14, where I write that it is remarkable that a book could be published in modern times referring to Jacob ben Hayyim as one of the great scholars of Israel. For R. Mordechai Breuer’s harsh review of the R. Zuriel’s book, see Megadim 20 (Tamuz 5753), pp. 91-96, available here.
[4] Seder Eliyahu (Jerusalem, 1983), p. 82. On p. 106 he mentions it among the books he wrote. Moshe Reines on his own figured out that the Aderet was the author. See his Mivhar Ketavim, ed. Eliezer Brodt (Ramat Beit Shemesh, 2018), pp. 31, 605. I thank R. Eliezer Brodt for calling this to my attention. He also pointed out that R. Yisrael Dandrovitz discusses the Aderet’s haskamot in his book Hayu Devarim Me-Olam, vol. 2, ch. 22. The chapter is titled: מחברי ספרים שהסתתרו כמסכימים
[5] Akivah ben Ezra, Minhagei Hagim (Tel Aviv, 1963), p. 314 n. 7, cited in R. Yehudah Zoldan, Malkhut Yehudah ve-Yisrael, p. 451 n. 17. I write “Akivah” because the author spelled his name עקיבה. The standard way of spelling the name is עקיבא, yet Maimonides always spelled it עקיבה.
[6] Seder Eliyahu, pp. 102, 106 (including it among the books he wrote).
[7] Trans. Moshe D. Lichtman (Jerusalem, 2003), pp. 368-369.
[8] Mishnah Berurah, Sha’ar ha-Tziyun, Orah Hayyim 128 (following no. 136).
[9] See e.g., here.
[10] One version of the story is found in R. Elazar Shakh, Shimushah shel Torah, p. 159. In a future post I will discuss this incident.
[11] See e.g., here. Here is a letter from the Chafetz Chaim’s son-in-law, R. Aaron Cohen, which appears in Iggerot la-Re’iyah, pp. 565-566.

[12] More than thirty years ago I spent Shabbat at the home of the late R. Zev Neuman, who was a very close student of R. Zvi Yehudah and involved in the publication of writings of R. Kook and R. Zvi Yehudah. (See here for various articles about Neuman.) At one of the Shabbat meals, Neuman took out a manuscript of one of R. Zvi Yehudah’s talks and read it to us. R. Zvi Yehudah described how he stayed at the Chafetz Chaim’s home and the Chafetz Chaim personally set up the bed for him. This passage, which made such an impression on me that I still remember it vividly so many years later, has unfortunately not yet appeared in print.
[13] Zvi Yavrov, Ma’aseh Ish, vol. 2, p. 85. See R. Michel Zalman Shurkin, Meged Givot Olam, vol. 2, p. 78, who quotes his father that near Radin lived a great talmid hakham who was a member of Mizrachi. The Chafetz Chaim stood up for this rabbi even though he also spoke very strongly against Mizrachi. The city of Radin is close to Lida, so I wonder if the unnamed Mizrachi rabbi was R. Isaac Jacob Reines, who actually founded Mizrachi.

It is of interest that the Chafetz Chaim’s son, R. Aryeh Leib, who assisted him in writing the Mishnah Berurah and later became the rav of Radin, publicly supported the Mizrachi. This fact is never mentioned by Haredi writers. Yet it is also noteworthy that although R. Aryeh Leib was a member of the secret Hovevei Tziyon society in Volozhin, his public identification with Mizrachi only occurred after the death of the Chafetz Chaim. It seems clear that, out of respect for his father, he refrained from publicly identifying with Mizrachi during his father’s lifetime. See Entzyklopedia shel ha-Tziyonut ha-Datit, vol. 4, cols. 273ff.

See R. Michel Zalman Shurkin,, Meged Givot Olam, vol. 1, pp. 48-49, that R. Mendel Zaks, the son-in-law of the Chafetz Chaim, preferred the biography of the Chafetz Chaim written by R. Meir Moshe Yosher over the volume written by R. Zaks brother-in-law, R. Aryeh Leib. He explained that Yosher’s volume just gives the facts, while R. Aryeh Leib also gives reasons for various actions and practices of the Chafetz Chaim, “and we do not have permission to give reasons for the actions of gedolei Yisrael.”
[14] See also Yavrov, Ma’aseh Ish, vol. 7, p. 94, that the Chafetz Chaim wrote that there is no enjoyment from telling lashon hara, and the Hazon Ish commented that apparently the Chafetz Chaim never told lashon hara, or he would have seen that one can indeed get pleasure from this.

Regarding lashon hara, see also Yavrov, Ma’aseh Ish, vol. 5, p. 31, where the Hazon Ish is quoted as saying that it is not lashon hara to say that someone does not know how to learn, as we need to know who is learned and who is not. Since there is a purpose in knowing who is a gadol be-Torah, therefore it is permitted to say that someone is not a gadol. This approach explains how it is not uncommon to hear people saying about various rabbis that they are “not so great in learning”. But I assume that the Hazon Ish was referring to rabbis making these judgments about other rabbis, not that laypeople would offer such comments. See also ibid, vol. 7, p. 94, where it records that on Kol Nidrei night the Hazon Ish told the students that we will now speak “kosher lashon hara.” He proceeded to speak about a rabbi who imagined that the Hebrew University was the Third Temple. He then turned to heaven and declared:

נו, רבונו של עולם, מספיק בשבילו מה שכבר קלקל עד כאן!

This can only refer to R. Kook, but as is well known, the notion that R. Kook compared the Hebrew University to the Temple, or that he applied to it the biblical verse, כי מציון תצא תורה, are complete fabrications by the enemies of R. Kook which misled even many great Torah scholars. See Moshe Alharar, Likhvodah shel Torah (Jerusalem, 1988), which is devoted to the slander directed against R. Kook.