Obituary: Professor Mordechai Breuer zt”l
By Marc B. Shapiro

Professsor Mordechai Breuer passed away on the twelfth of Sivan, 5767. It is a great loss for the world of Jewish scholarship as well as that of Orthodox Jewry. Breuer, born in Frankfurt in 1918, was the great-grandson of R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, the grandson of R. Shlomo Zalman Breuer, who succeeded Hirsch as Rav of the Frankfurt separatist community, and the son of Dr. Isaac Breuer, the leading theoretician of the Agudah (although the latter’s philosophy would later diverge from what came to be known as the Agudah Daas Torah).

Breuer came to the world of academic Jewish studies rather late, earning his PhD in 1967 for a study of the Ashkenazic yeshiva in the late Middle Ages. (He had previously earned an MA at the Hebrew University, writing on David Gans.) At that time, he was principal of the Horeb school in Jerusalem. He later became professor of Jewish history at Bar Ilan. It is more than a little ironic that a great-grandson of Hirsch would devote himself academic Jewish studies.[1]

Returning to Prof. Breuer, it is hard to do justice to such a productive scholar in a short post. One can be sure that the next issue of Ha-Maayan, with which Breuer was associated since its founding, will have an important obituary.

As one who has worked a great deal in the field of German Orthodoxy, I can state that my work would be much the poorer if not for Breuer’s many writings. His classic Modernity Within Tradition is a marvelous study of the German Orthodox community and a model for how to write the history of American Orthodoxy. For those who read German, I recommend the original version, published by the Leo Baeck Institute. While containing the same text as the English, the German version has additional information in the footnotes.

For those interested in the full range of his scholarship (up until eight years ago) the volume Asif (Jerusalem, 1999) contains a number of his best articles, including his classic study of Hirsch’s Torah im Derekh Eretz principle. (This article was translated into English and published as a booklet, but has been out of print for many years.) The volume also contains a bibliography of his many writings.[2]

Of particular interest to readers of this blog is his final work, Oholei Torah, on the history of the yeshivot.[3] The only criticism I can give of this work is that it tries to do too much, and throws too much information at the reader. Yet it is an enormously helpful volume. I leave aside for now his contributions in a number of other areas of Jewish studies, as well as in general German Jewish history.

As I was in touch with him for many years, allow me to offer some personal comments, and excerpts from letters and e-mails I received, as I think they will be of interest to the readers.

My first contact with Breuer was actually not the most pleasant for me. I was a graduate student and had just published an article in Ha-Maayan (Tishrei, 5754), in which I included a strong attack on R. Esriel Hildesheimer’s Eisenstadt yeshiva by an anonymous nineteenth-century critic.[4] Breuer wrote to me expressing his unhappiness that I had chosen to publicize what, in his mind, were the ignorant ravings of a benighted yeshiva bachur. I thought then, and still think, that — to paraphrase someone else — while ignorant ravings remain ignorant ravings, the history they illuminate is scholarship. The editor, the late, lamented Yonah Emanuel, took my side in this dispute, and I was happy to have his support when confronted by the man who had become one of my idols in scholarship. (Emanuel actually censored my article, taking out a reference to an attack on the Ketav Sofer, an attack that was already in print and which I found helpful in illuminating the dispute taking place in Hungary. The Ketav Sofer was actually a great friend of Hildesheimer, and even invited him to come to Pressburg to serve with him in the rabbinate.)

Following this, our relationship improved, and I often turned to him with my questions. This became much easier when he too acquired e-mail access. Two months ago, in what was one of my last e-mails to him, I wrote:

Unfortunately, this was not to be. Already I feel a great loss at not having someone to turn to with all my questions. He was a veritable Urim ve-Tumim when it came to anything dealing with the lost, wonderful world of German Orthodoxy.

A couple of months ago, someone contacted me and wanted information about Hirsch’s visits to the opera. I looked around the internet a bit, and apparently it is “common knowledge” that Hirsch attended the opera. There have even been online discussions about what the halakhic justification of this was. Despite my extensive reading in German Orthodox literature, I had never heard that Hirsch went to the opera. Therefore, I was very skeptical of this piece of “common knowledge.” I was also aware that very often “common knowledge” turns out to be incorrect. But rather than offer my opinion, I did what I always did at times like this. I turned to Professor Breuer, the man who had read everything written by and about Hirsch, and who had painstakingly gone through every page of the German Orthodox newspapers and magazines of the nineteenth century. I also asked him about the general German Orthodox practice of going to the opera.

He replied:

All I can say is that if Breuer had never heard that Hirsch went to the opera, how is it that others seem to know this as a fact, and if asked for a source, will reply that it is “common knowledge”?

In another e-mail he wrote similarly:

I also asked Breuer, who attended the Hirschian school in Frankfurt, what the situation was with regard to boys covering their heads (we all know the teshuvah of R. David Zvi Hoffmann testifying as to how they did not do so in the nineteenth century). He replied:

He also pointed out to me that when Hirsch was Chief Rabbi of Moravia, he protested against a rule that Jewish children were forbidden to cover their heads during class. In other words, only in Germany, where that was the common practice, did children sit with uncovered heads. It was not a “shitah” of Hirsch that they do so.

I told Breuer that some people understand Hoffmann’s teshuvah as referring to him taking off his hat when he went into Hirsch’s office, but still having a kippah underneath. He replied that Hoffmann

In another e-mail he wrote:

I wrote to Breuer:

He replied:

I asked him about congregational singing in Germany. He replied:

I asked him if his great father was a rabbi (since he is usually referred to as Dr.). He replied:

On another occasion he wrote a bit more about the Hirschian school in Frankfurt and the relationship between his grandfather and Rabbi Marcus Horovitz:

After reading my dissertation he wrote to me:

In his German volume on the history of German Orthodoxy, Breuer mentions that in R. Seligman Baer Bamberger’s synagogue there was no Frauengitter. I assumed that this meant that there was no mehitzah in the famed Wuerzberger Rav’s shul, and I wrote to him to inquire. He replied:

This was very helpful to me since in the next issue of Milin Havivin I am publishing something relating to the great controversy in Frankfurt over who would succeed Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Breuer as rabbi of the Hirschian kehillah. Prof. Breuer’s uncle, Rabbi Raphael Breuer, was the rabbi of Aschaffenburg, and the family obviously wanted him to step into his father’s position. However, the members of the community refused to give him their support. One of the issues brought up against Rabbi Raphael was that his synagogue did not a proper mehitzah. I was unable to find any description of exactly what the problem was. Prof. Breuer could not recall either, although as a child he had been to the synagogue on a couple of occasions. He did, however, remind me that his uncle’s predecessor was R. Simcha Bamberger, a son of the Wuerzburger Rav. I therefore assume that the “problem” with the Aschaffenburg mehitzah was the lack of latticework on top of the partition.

After gaining so much from Professor Breuer, I was happy that I was able to give him a present — a copy of a manuscript letter from Hirsch. I didn’t even know what it said, as I found it impossible to read the old handwriting. He wrote to me as follows:

I had hoped that Breuer would be able to publish the letter himself, complete with an introduction. But alas, it was not meant to be. Beli neder, I shall do so.

Despite his age, Prof. Breuer was always prompt in answering all of my questions, and I will be forever grateful. I am also in his debt for another reason. No doubt realizing that he would not be able to write about everything in his files, he offered to give me unpublished material relating to the controversy over the talmudic commentaries of R. Joseph Zvi Duenner, chief rabbi of Amsterdam. Needless to say, I was thrilled, and I thank my friend, Aharon Wexler, who went to his house, picked up the material, and mailed it to me. I hope to be able to publish it before too long.

For those who don’t know, Duenner’s approach anticipated that of Halivni in some respects, primarily in the assumption that the answers given by the amoraim, while binding for halakhic purposes, are not necessarily the best explanation of the Mishnah. Duenner also pointed to a couple of passages in the Talmud — both of which are in the current daf yomi tractate — which he believed are interpolations from the heretics, intended to mock the rabbis. He claimed that the rabbis would never have discussed the case of one who falls off a roof and while landing on a woman has sex with her (a highly improbable scenario, to put it mildly), or that a holy sage would come into a new town and announce that he was looking for a wife for the night (Yevamot 37b, 54a). According to Duenner, these texts are the product of those intending to mock the rabbis, and were unfortunately taken by later scholars as authentic.

Breuer’s grandfather, Rabbi S. Z. Breuer, was one of the leading opponents of Duenner, going so far as to threaten to place him into herem if he didn’t stop publishing his hiddushim, and put the ones already in print into genizah. Duenner refused, and the threat of a herem was never carried out. His hiddushim were later reprinted by Mossad ha-Rav Kook, and some unpublished material was also included in this new edition.

Dr. Marc B. Shapiro holds the Weinberg Chair in Judaic Studies, Department of Theology and Religious Studies, University of Scranton. He is the author of Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy: The Life and Works of Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, 1884-1966 (London: Littman Library, 1999) previous posts at the Seforim blog include “Uncensored Books” and an obituary for Rabbi Yosef Buxbaum zt”l, founder and publisher of Machon Yerushalayim.

Notes:
[1] It is even more ironic that the bête noire of Hirsch and S. Z. Breuer, R. Mordechai Horovitz (the Matteh Levi), has a descendant, R. Baruch Horovitz, who runs the fairly haredi Dvar Yerushalayim Yeshiva. In fact, when Rabbi Horovitz reprinted the Matteh Levi in 1979, he received a haskamah from R. Yitzhak Yaakov Weiss, Av Beit Din of the Edah Haredit and a man far removed from the cultured and tolerant Orthodoxy of the Matteh Levi. (Of course, what some would call “tolerant Orthodoxy,” Hirsch and S.Z. Breuer regarded as fraudelent Orthodoxy.)

[2] See Mordechai Breuer, The “Torah-im-derekh-eretz” of Samson Raphael Hirsch (Jerusalem, New York, Feldheim, 1970)
[3] See Mordechai Breuer, Oholei Torah: The Yeshiva, Its Structure and History (Merkaz Zalman Shazar 2003)

[4] See my “A Letter of Criticism Directed Against the Yeshivah of Eisenstadt,” Ha-Maayan 34 (Tishrei, 5754 [1993]), 15-25 (in Hebrew).

[5] Ha-Rav Yonah Merzbach: Pirkei Hayyim, Darko U-Fe’alav (Bnei Brak, 2004)