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חכמים הזהרו בציון מקורותיכם – חוסר עיון במקורות ועל ראשי תיבות

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חכמים הזהרו בציון מקורותיכם –
חוסר עיון במקורות ועל ראשי תיבות
מאת
עקביא שמש
לאחר שקראתי את
הפוסט המעניין מאוד של פרופ’ מרק שפירו, אמרתי כי עכשו הזמן להוסיף עוד משהו
בבחינת מעניין לעניין באותו עניין. מה הוא דיבר על דרכם של כותבים בדורנו, אף אני
אכתוב על פרט מסויים בדרכם של הכותבים בדורנו. הפרט שאני רוצה להצביע עליו הוא שיש
מחברים המציינים את המקור לדבריהם, ואף מפנים את הלומד לעיין באותו מקור, אבל הם
עצמם לא עיינו באותו מקור. אילו היו מטריחים עצמם לעשות כן, היו רואים שמקור זה לא
היה ולא נברא. ואם תאמר, אם לא עיינו באותו מקור הכיצד ציינו אליו. תשובתך, הם ככל
הנראה העתיקו את המקור מספר מסויים, והעלימו את שמו של אותו ספר. פרט זה אינו בא
ללמד על עצם הספר שכתבו, שאפשר שהוא ספר טוב וראוי, אלא בא לומר את שכתבתי בכותרת:
חכמים הזהרו בציוניכם. אם אתם מפנים למקור, עליכם לעיין בעצמכם באותו מקור, כדי
שלא תתבדו. אם מאיזה סיבה אינכם מסוגלים לעיין באותו מקור, אזי יש לכתוב במפורש כי
המקור המוזכר על ידכם נזכר בספר אחר, ואזי יידע הקורא כי לא אתם טעיתם בציון המקור,
אלא אתם סמכתם על פלוני שהפנה לאותו מקור. 
כדי שהקורא יראה
במו עיניו במה מדובר, אדגים תופעה זו, שהיא חוזרת אצל כמה וכמה מחברים ביחס לאותו מקור
ממש, ודומני שזה מקרה לא שכיח.
אני מסדר את
הספרים לפי שנות ההדפסה, כאשר הקדום מביניהם הוא הראשון.
1. כתב
רמ”ב פירוטינסקי:[1]
בספר עמודי
השמים עמוד ד’ אות כ”ג כ’ בשם האריז”ל שכל השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה כמו
שחושבים הבריות שאביו קורא לו כן במקרה בלי שום טעם אלא הכל בהסכמה מאתו ית’ שגלוי
לפניו מה ענין האיש הזה ופעולתו כן מזדמן בפה אביו לקוראו בשם שהשם ממש יורה על
ענין ופעולה שבאותו אדם אם הוא… עכ”ל.
אם ברצוננו
לראות את הדברים במקור, עלינו לפנות כדברי המחבר לספר עמודי השמים. ובכן, ספר בשם עמודי
השמים נכתב על ידי ר”ב שיק, ברלין, תקל”ז. חלק א של הספר הוא פירוש על
הלכות קידוש החודש לרמב”ם. חלק ב נקרא תפארת אדם, והוא עוסק בתיאור גוף האדם.
לשני החלקים אין כל קשר עם האמור. לכן עולה בדעתנו כי אולי המחבר לא דייק בשם
הספר, וכוונתו לספר עמודי שמים (ללא ה’ הידיעה). ובכן הבה נבדוק אפשרות זו.
קיימים שני
ספרים בשם זה. האחד, עמודי שמים לר”א ליכטשטיין, וורשה, תקס”ג. המחבר
עוסק בכמה וכמה עניינים, וזה ספר מורכב, אבל מכל מקום האמור אינו נמצא שם. ספר שני
הנקרא בשם עמודי שמים הוא סידורו של ר’ יעקב עמדין, אלטונא, תק”ה-תק”ח.[2]
סידור זה נדפס פעמים רבות ובמהדורות שונות, ואף נקרא בשמות שונים, ומן הדין היה
לציין לאיזה מהדורה התכוון רמ”ב פירוטינסקי, כדי שנוכל למצוא את המקום. אלא
שכאן הקושי אינו גדול כיון שמדובר בתחילת הספר, בעמוד ד. אבל המעיין בתחילת הסידור
לא ימצא שם מאומה, ומה עוד שהציון הנוסף: אות כ”ג, אין לו מובן שהרי אין שם
אותיות. אם כן הציון של הרב פירוטינסקי צריך עוד בירור.
המעניין הוא
שמצאנו איזכור מעין זה בעוד חמישה עשר ספרים, שנדפסו אחריו כפי שנראה מיד, וכולם
מציינים שהמקור הוא ספר עמודי שמים (או: השמים). אפשר שטעו בעצמם כפי שרמ”ב
פירוטינסקי טעה, אבל קרוב בעיני שנמשכו אחריו או אחרי ספר אחר שטעה בזה. הבה ונראה
את שאר הספרים.
2. כתב
רי”ד ויסברג:[3]
בשם
האריז”ל שכל השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה כמו שחושבים הבריות שאביו קורא לו כן
במקרה בלי שום טעם אלא הכל בהסכמה מאתו ית’ שגלוי לפניו מה ענין האיש הזה ופעולתו
כן מזדמן בפה אביו לקוראו בשם שהשם ממש יורה על ענין ופעולה שבאותו אדם אם הוא…
(ס’ עמודי שמים עמוד ד’ אות כ”ג).
3. באותה שנה
כתב רנ”י וילהלם:[4]
ועוד אמרו שכל
השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה בלי שום טעם אלא הכל בהסכמה מאתו ית’ שגלוי לפניו מה ענין
האיש הזה ופעולתו כן מזדמן בפה אביו…
ואת מקור הדברים
גילה בהערה 31:  “עמודי השמים עמ’ ד’
אות כ”ג בשם האריז”ל”.
4. שנה מאוחר
יותר כתב ר”מ גלזרסון:[5]
מכאן נראה
שפרטים רבים על האדם מתגלים בשמו כפי שאומר עמודי שמים (אות כ”ג) בשם
האר”י הקדוש: …[6]
שהשם ממש יורה על ענין ופעולה שבאותו אדם אם הוא מצד הטוב או מצד הרע ובאיזה אופן
יהיה…
על פי הציטוט,
שלא מועתק כאן עד תומו, נראה למעיין שר”מ גלזרסון העתיק ישירות מספר עמודי
שמים. אבל כאמור עניין זה אינו נמצא בעמודי שמים. מה עוד שכאן לא ציין המחבר את
מספר העמוד, וברור שלא ניתן למצוא את המקור רק לפי אות כ”ג. ובכן, אין אנו
יודעים מניין הגיע המחבר לספר עמודי שמים.
5. בספר שיחות
הרב צבי יהודה הכהן קוק על ספר שמות, ירושלים, תשנ”ח, עמ’ 19 הערה 33, נאמר:
אמר האר”י
ז”ל שכל השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה כמו שחושבים הבריות שאביו קורא לו במקרה בלי
שום טעם אלא הכל בהסכמה מאיתו ית’ שגלוי לפניו מה ענין האיש הזה ופעולתו כן מזדמן
בפה אביו לקוראו בשם. עמודי השמים עמ’ ד אות כג.
אמנם יש לציין
כי הדברים נאמרו בהערה, ועל פי הרשום בספר “עריכה מקורות כותרות וסיכום על
ידי הרב שלמה חיים הכהן אבינר”. כלומר, הרב אבינר הוא אחראי על כתיבת המקורות
בספר, וא”כ הוא זה שכתב כי המקור הוא עמודי השמים בה’ הידיעה. שם הספר בה’
הידיעה, מזכיר לנו את האמור המקור מס’ 1.
6. כתב ר”מ
גרוס:[7]
“כתב רבנו האריז”ל וז”ל שכל השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה כמו שחושבים
הבריות שאביו קורא לו כן במקרה בלי שם טעם אלא הכל בהסכמה” וכו’. כמקור לכך
נכתב: “ברית אבות סי’ ח או’ מז בשם ספר עמודי שמים”.
ר”מ גרוס
מגלה לנו כי המקור לדברי האריז”ל הוא בספר ברית אבות, שכתב כן בשם ספר עמודי
שמים, ונשוב לכך בהמשך.
7. קצת מאוחר
יותר כתב ר”ד טהרני:[8]
דהא כבר נתפרסם
בעולם למ”ש בספר בספר עמודי שמים (עמוד ד אות כג) בשם רבינו האר”י
ז”ל בזה”ל אפילו מספר שמו וכל אות ואות ונקודה שבשמו הכל מורה על פעולתו
ועניניו אשר באותו איש עכ”ל ע”ש, וכ”כ רבי שבתי ליפשיץ בספר ברית
אבות (סימן ח אות מז) שמספר שמו העולה בגימטריא יש לו משמעות והשפעה עליו ע”ש.
ר”ד טהרני
כתב: “ע”ש”, דהיינו שיש לעיין במקור. לכאורה משמע מכאן שהוא עצמו
עיין במקור, אבל כאמור לשוא יחפש המעיין בעמודי שמים, כי לא ימצא שם דבר. אבל גם
הוא כקודמו מפנה לספר ברית אבות ועל כך נדבר בהמשך.
8. כאמור ציון
זה מוצא את דרכו הלאה גם לספריהם של חכמים נוספים. כך כתב ר”ר עמאר:[9]
כיוצא בזה ראתה
עיני להיעב”ץ ז”ל בספר עמודי שמים עמוד ב’ אות כג בשם רבנו האריז”ל
דכל השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה כמו שחושבים הבריות שאביו קורא לו שם במקרה ככל העולה
על רוחו ועם לבבו בלי שום טעם וסיבה אלא הכל בהשגחה ובהסכמה…
המחבר הגדיל
לעשות בכך שכתב בבירור כי עמודי שמים הוא ספרו של ר’ יעקב עמדין (יעב”ץ). יתר
על כן הוא כתב “ראתה עיני”, בהכרח עלינו לומר שכתב כן כמליצה בעלמא,
שהרי כאמור אין בעמודי שמים מאומה מעניין זה.
9. גם רא”ח
בן אהרן כתב כך:[10]
מובא בכתבי
האריז”ל שער הגלגולים (שער כ”ג ונ”ט) שבזמן שההורים נותנים את שמו
של התינוק נכנסת בהם רוח הקודש כיצד לקרוא שמו וכן היעב”ץ בספרו עמודי שמים (עמוד
ד’ אות כ”ג) מביא בהרחבה ענין זה בשם האר”י שכל השמות בעולם אינם במקרה
אלא הכל לפי מה שהניח הקב”ה בפיו של אביו בגלל עתידו יעו”ש.
המחבר מודיע לנו
שהכוונה היא לסידורו של היעב”ץ, ואף הוסיף: “יעו”ש”. כלומר,
יש לעיין שם, ואתה מבין מכאן שגם הוא עיין שם, שהרי הוא מוסיף וכותב כי
היעב”ץ “מביא בהרחבה”, והרי כאמור אין שם מאומה מעניין זה.
10. עדיין לא
נסתיימה רשימת המחברים שכותבים כך. ר”א קיציס כותב:[11]
וראיה מופלאה
לדבר כתב בספר נועם אלימלך שכאשר אדם ישן ורוצים להקיצו משנתו הדרך הקלה היא לקרוא
בשמו ומיד יקיץ ויתעורר משום שהשם מהות נשמתו (פרשת שמות דיבור המתחיל או יאמר) וכן
האריך בענין זה בספר עמודי שמים (יעב”ץ) ומביא כן בשם האר”י הקדוש שכל
שרשי האדם מרומזים בשמו.
המחבר השמיט
מראה מקום מדוייק לספר עמודי שמים, אולי מפני שלא מצא כן בספר, ולא הבין את פשר
מראה המקום. אבל הוא יודע כי את הספר כתב יעב”ץ ואף האריך שם, דבר שאינו
קיים.
11. גם ר”א
דבורקס ממשיך ומאמץ טעות זו, וכותב:[12]
“כן מבואר בספר הגלגולים פ’ נט ובספר עמודי שמים אות כ”ג מה שהביא בשם
האריז”ל שהאריכו רבות בגודל וחשיבות הענין של נתינת שם לבן או לבת ע”י האב
בעצמו”…
המחבר השמיט חלק
ממראה המקום לספר עמודי שמים, וברור שלפי הציון: אות כ”ג בלבד, לא ניתן למצוא
דבר, ואין לציון זה מובן.
12. ואחריהם גם
רא”י רובין:[13]
דשמות אישי
ישראל אינם מקרה אלא בהשגחה פרטית לפי שהוא שורש נשמה ומקרא מלא הוא במספר שמות
לגולגולתם וכל אשר יקרא לו אדם נפש חיה הוא שמו והשי”ת אשר לו נתכוונו עלילות
הוא ממציא בפי אבי הילד בשעת קריאת השם שמו הנאה לו כפי שורשו עכ”ל וסוד
דבריו אלו הובא בספר עמודי שמים (אות כ”ג) בשם האר”י הק’ שממנו מקור
ענין זה והאריכו בזה בספר הגלגולים (פרק נ”ט) ובספר אגרא דכלה ועוד ספרים.
כאמור קודם,
הציון: אות כ”ג, אינו אומר מאומה למעיין, ואלו הם דברים בעלמא.
13. רי”י
הלוי אשלג כתב:[14] “בספר
עמודי השמים עמוד ד’ אות כ”ג כ’ בשם האריז”ל שכל השמות שבעולם אינם
במקרה כמו שחושבים הבריות שאביו קורא” וכו’. כאן הספר נקרא עמודי השמים (בה’
הידיעה), וזה מזכיר לנו כי כך כתב גם בספר הברית (מס’ 1).
14. ועוד מחבר המצטרף
לרשימה זו והוא ר”י רצאבי:[15]
ובמקור דבריו
של מהרי”ץ שהוא בספר חסד לאברהם מעיין ה’ נהר ו’ לא נזכר לשון זה שרוח הקודש
לובשת לאב אלא שה’ יתברך מזמין אותו שם בפי אביו ואמו יעו”ש, וכן הוא בשער הגלגולים
הקדמה כ”ג ובמשנת חסידים מסכת חתונה ומילה אות ג’ ובספר ברית אבות סימן ח’
אות מ”ז בשם ספר עמודי שמים בשם רבינו האר”י יעוש”ב.
ר”י רצאבי
שלח אותנו לעיין בדבריו, ואי אתה יודע אם התכוון לספר ברית אבות, ובזה לא הטעה את
המעיין כפי שנראה בהמשך, או שהתכוון לספר עמודי שמים, ובזה הטעה את המעיין.
15. כתב
רק”מ בר:[16] “אמר
האר”י ז”ל שכל השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה כמו שחושבים הבריות שאביו קורא
לו במקרה בלי שום טעם” וכו’. ובהערה 9 כתב כי המקור הוא: “עמודי השמים
עמוד ד אות כג”. אף הוא כתב את שם הספר עמודי השמים בה’ הידיעה, וזה כאמור
דומה לכתוב בספר הברית (לעיל מס’ 1).
16. כתב
ר”מ טולידאנו:[17]
ובס’ עמודי
שמים (עמ’ ד’ אות כ”ג) כתב בשם האריז”ל (שער הגלגולים הקדמה כ”ג דף
כ”ד ע”ב) שכל שבעולם אינם במקרה, אלא הכל בהסכמה מאתו יתברך, שמזדמנין
בפה אביו לקראו בשם שבו ענין האיש ופעולתו מצד הטוב ומצד הרע, ולא זו בלבד אלא
אפילו מספר שמו וכל אות ואות ונקודה שבשמו…
עד כאן רשימת
הספרים, שלחלק מהם הגעתי בסיוע תוכנת אוצר החכמה.
ובכן, מה הוא
ספר עמודי שמים שכולם מפנים אליו. עלינו להחזיק טובה לר”מ גרוס (לעיל מס’ 6),
ר”ד טהרני (מס’ 7), וגם לר”י רצאבי (מס’ 14) שציינו לספר נוסף, הוא ספר
ברית אבות,[18] שכנראה הוא
המקור לדבריהם. ר”ד טהרני אף הגדיל לעשות שכתב גם את שם המחבר: “וכ”כ
רבי שבתי ליפשיץ בספר ברית אבות (סימן ח אות מז)”.
לכן פניתי לספר
ברית אבות לראות מה נאמר בו, וכך כתוב שם:[19]
“בספר עמוד”ש עמוד ד’ אות כ”ג כתוב בשם רבינו האריז”ל
וז”ל שכל השמות שבעולם אינם במקרה כמו שחושבים הבריות שאביו קורא לו כן במקרה
בלי שום טעם… אלא אפילו מספר שמו וכן אות ואות ונקודה בשמו” וכו’.
מעתה ברור כי יש
כאן טעות בפתרון ראשי התיבות: עמוד”ש.[20]
הפתרון הנכון הוא: עמודיה שבעה, שהוא ספרו של ר’ בצלאל ב”ר שלמה מקוברין,
לובלין, תכ”ו, ובמהדורות נוספות. עיון בספר זה מוכיח שזהו הפתרון הנכון הואיל
והעניין נמצא שם, בעמוד ד, אות כג.
יש להבהיר, כי
‘עמוד ד’ אינו המספר של העמוד בספר כפי שכל מעיין סבור לתומו, שהרי כך אנו רגילים
לציין לעמודים שבספר. אלא הספר מחולק לשבעה עמודים וזה פשר שם הספר: עמודיה שבעה, המלמד
כי הספר מחולק לשבעה עמודים, כלומר לשבעה חלקים. לכן, הציון ‘עמוד ד’ משמעותו
העמוד הרביעי, היינו החלק הרביעי בספר.
יש לציין כי
לפתרון של ראשי תיבות יש כיום ספרות עזר. נכון הוא כי פתרון לראשי התיבות:
עמוד”ש, לא מצאתי בספרים העוסקים בראשי תיבות. אמנם גם אם היה מקום לדון לכף
זכות את הפותרים ששגו, הואיל ולא היה להם במה להעזר, הרי שעדיין היה עליהם לפתוח
את הספר, ולוודא אם פתרו כהלכה את ראשי התיבות.
לסיכום, אלו
הדברים העולים מהאמור לעיל:
א.     
ששה עשר
מחברים בדורנו כותבים שעניין מסוים נמצא בספר פלוני, בדוגמה שלפנינו הספר הוא ספר
עמודי שמים (או עמודי השמים), אבל אף אחד מהם לא טרח ובדק אם אכן העניין נמצא בספר
זה. אילו היו עושים כן, היו רואים שהעניין אינו נמצא בו.
ב.        שלושה
מחברים (מס’ 6, 7, 14) מתוך ששה עשר המחברים הללו, מציינים לספר ברית אבות כמקור
לדבריהם. לכן, אף שלא טרחו לעיין בספר עמודי שמים (שאליו הם מפנים), הרי שהם עשו
עמנו חסד בכך שנתנו בידינו את האפשרות לברר כיצד הגיעו לכך שהעניין שכתבו נמצא בספר
עמודי שמים.
ג.       
ואכן, על
ידי עיון בספר ברית אבות מתברר שאין בו הפניה לספר עמודי שמים, אלא יש בו הפניה
לספר: עמוד”ש. הפתרון לראשי התיבות עמוד”ש שהוא לדבריהם ‘עמודי שמים’
הוא פתרון שגוי, שהרי דבר זה אינו נמצא בספר זה. ברור אפוא שעלינו לחפש פתרון אחר
לראשי התיבות עמוד”ש. הפתרון הוא: עמודיה שבעה.
ד.      
לגבי שלושה
עשר המחברים האחרים קשה לדעת אם מי מהם ראה את ספר ברית אבות (או ספר אחר שלא
הוזכר כאן) ושגה בפתרון ראשי התיבות עמוד”ש. או שהוא ראה את ההפנייה ‘עמודי
שמים עמוד ד’ וכו’ בספר שקדם לו (מרשימת הספרים שהובאה כאן, או מספר שלא הוזכר
כאן). כך או כך, בשל מחברים אלה המעיינים בספריהם לקו בכפליים – לא רק שהופנו
הלומדים למקור שאינו קיים, אלא גם נמנע מהם לדעת כיצד הגיעו המחברים למקור זה. לו
כתבו המחברים את שם הספר שממנו העתיקו את המקור הזה (כדוגמת מס’ 6, 7, 14), היה
באפשרות הלומדים לעקוב אחר גלגול העניין.
[1]       ספר
הברית, ניו יורק, תשל”ח, סי’ רס”ה, סימן י, קונטרס קריאת השם, אות א, דף
דש ע”ב. תודה לר”א ברודט על שהפנני לספר זה.
[2]       יש
לציין שלסידור זה יש שמות נוספים, ולא נאריך בזה כאן.
[3]       אוצר הברית
ח”א, ירושלים, תשנ”ג, עמ’ שכד.
[4]       ביום
השמיני, ירושלים, תשנ”ג, עמ’ מח.
[5]       שם ונשמה,
ירושלים, תשנ”ד, עמ’ 38.
[6]       כך
מודפס במקור.
[7]       שמא
גרים, בני ברק, תשנ”ח, עמ’ קט-קי.
[8]       כתר שם
טוב, ירושלים, תש”ס, חלק א, עמ’ שס. וחזר על כך עוד מספר פעמים במקומות שונים
בספרו.
[9]       מנהגי
החיד”א, יו”ד, חלק א, ירושלים, תשס”ב, דף קנט ע”א.
[10]     נחלת שדה
על בראשית, ירושלים, תשס”ג, עמ’ קיד. אגב, בשער הספר כתוב שהשנה היא: דרוש
סודות תורה. וברור שיש כאן שיבוש בהדפסה.
[11]     הגדה של פסח עם
פירוש מנחה שלוחה לר”א קיציס, בני ברק, תשס”ה, עמ’ רנב.
[12]     על בן אמצת לך,
ירושלים, תשס”ה, עמ’ נח, סוף הערה ג.
[13]     נהרות איתן,
ח”א, או”ח, רחובות, תשס”ז, פתיחה רבתא, עמ’ כט. הוא חזר על כך בספרו נהרות איתן,
ח”ב, יו”ד, רחובות, תשס”ח, עמ’ שפו, וכן בח”ג, רחובות,
תשס”ח, עמ’ שצז, אות יח. והנה בח”ג כתב כי בשו”ת ערוגות הבושם
ח”א סי’ ריח, כתב כן בשם עמודי שמים, ושכח דברי עצמו מחלק ב, ששם הוא זה שכתב
כי מקורו של ערוגות הבושם הוא בעמודי שמים, אבל בעל ערוגות הבושם מעולם לא הזכיר
את עמודי שמים בעניין, ע”ש, ואין להאריך.
[14]     ילקוט ספר
הזוהר על ברית מילה, בני ברק תשס”ח, עמ’ רנד, אות תקעו.
[15]     נפלאות מתורתך,
במדבר, חלק שני, בני ברק, תשס”ט, עמ’ קצ.
[16]     מעשה רקם
על פרשיות השבוע, בני ברק, תשס”ט, עמ’ 279.
[17]     מטל
השמים, בני ברק, תשע”ב, פר’ ויחי, דף קו ע”א.
[18]     קצת תימה
על רמ”ב פירוטינסקי (מס’ 1), שהרי על פי תוכנת אוצר החכמה הוא מביא
כ- 30 פעמים את ספר ברית אבות, ומדוע נמנע במקום זה מלהזכיר כי ספר זה הוא המקור
לדבריו.
[19]     בשער
נכתב: שרביט הזהב החדש הנקרא גם ברית אבות [הואיל ור”ד טהרני נהג כהלכה
בציינו גם את שם המחבר, לכן ניתן היה למצוא את הספר גם תחת השם השני של הספר: ברית
אבות], מונקאטש, תרע”ד, דף סה ע”ב, אות מז.
[20]     אפשר
ששלושה אלו טעו בכך שפתרו את ראשי התיבות הללו באומרם שהכוונה היא: עמודי שמים.
אפשר גם לומר שראו פתרון זה (עמודי שמים) בספר אחר, כגון ספר הברית המצויין במס’
1, ולא ראו הבדל בין השם עמודי השמים (בה’ הידיעה כנזכר בספר הברית) לבין עמודי
שמים (ללא ה’ הידיעה), אלא שלא ציינו באיזה ספר ראו פתרון זה.


Plagiarism, Halakhic Paradox, and the Malbim on Kohelet

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Plagiarism, Halakhic Paradox, and the Malbim on Kohelet
by
Marc B. Shapiro
1. A story recently appeared alleging plagiarism in the writings of R. Yonah Metzger.[1] Such accusations are nothing new and the topic of plagiarism in rabbinic history is of great interest to me. Many of the scholars of Jewish bibliography have also written about the phenomenon,[2] and a good deal on the topic has appeared on the Seforim Blog.[3] Suffice it to say that every generation has had problems in this regard, and we see even see apparent instances of it in the Talmud.[4] The examples range from taking another’s ideas (including one’s teacher[5]), to copying sections of another work, to reprinting an entire book and changing the title page.[6] It is interesting that R. Moses Sofer, unlike others, is reported not to have been troubled by people plagiarizing from him. As he put it, he doesn’t mind if they attach his hiddushim to their names, as long as they don’t attribute their own hiddushim to him.[7]
R. Isaac Sternhell, in the introduction to his Kokhvei Yitzhak, vol. 1, gives a good illustration of how widespread the problem of plagiarism has been in explaining why R. Joseph Karo and R. Moses Isserles don’t mention anything in the Shulhan Arukh about the obligation to repeat a Torah teaching in the name of one who said it (itself of great importance, not to mention the geneivat da’at involved if one doesn’t give proper credit [8]). R. Sternhell states that that since so many people plagiarize, including תלמידי חכמים שיראתם קודמת לחכמתם, therefore, just like it is a mitzvah to say that which people will listen to, so too it is best to be quiet about something they won’t pay attention to [9]. R. Sternhell reports that this reason was actually given by R. Yissachar Dov Rokeah of Belz in explanation of why there is nothing in the Shulhan Arukh about the prohibition of leshon hara.[10]
והם מתוך שחששו מלהביא קטרוג על כלל ישראל התעלמו מדינים אלה בפסקי הלכה והשמיטום. ובכך קיימו דברי הנביא עמוס (ה’ ג’) והמשכיל בעת ההיא ידום
R. Sternhell then lists a few books that plagiarized, and the books from which they stole. The problem is that he only identifies the plagiarizing books by their initials, which makes identifying them quite hard.
Today we have Otzar ha-Hokhmah which makes spotting plagiarism easier. Let me share with you one example. I am a long time reader of the journal Or Torah, which is where so many of R. Meir Mazuz’s writings have been published. In Tamuz 5758 an article appeared by a certain R. Daniel Weitzman. Here are the first two pages. On the second page there is something suspicious, which I don’t know if anyone other than me would take notice of. He cites R. Weinberg’s famous responsum on abortion but instead of citing it from Seridei Esh, he refers to an earlier appearance in Ha-Pardes. This sort of thing immediately sets off bells for me, since how would a rabbi in Israel in the pre-hebrewbooks.org and pre-Otzar ha-Hokhmah era have access to a thirty-year-old issue of Ha-Pardes? How would he ever come to that? In fact, if you look at the article, it seems that he doesn’t even know what Ha-Pardes is, referring to it as Pardes. The title he gives to R. Weinberg’s article is also not correct and is taken from the source he plagiarized from.

 

Now compare what Weitzman wrote with what appears in R. Shmuel Hayyim Katz’s Devar Shmuel (Los Angeles, 1986).


Weitzman has not just plagiarized, but he has copied word for word from Katz. Needless to say, I was quite distressed when I saw this. Since it is rare that someone plagiarizes only once, I decided to check Weitzman’s other articles that appeared in Or Torah.

Here is an article from Tamuz 5757 (first page, but here is a link to the complete article).

This article is also plagiarized from R. Katz’s Devar Shmuel.

And here Weitzman’s article from Or Torah, Av 5758, and it too is plagiarized from R. Katz’s Devar Shmuel.

  

Here are the pages from Devar Shmuel:

With the aid of Otzar ha-Hokhmah I was able to find the following. Here is the first page of Weitzman’s article that appears in Or Torah, Heshvan 5761.

It is taken almost word for word from R. Mordechai Friedman’s Pores Mapah (Brooklyn, 1997).

 

Pores Mapah is not a well-known book (although it has much to recommend it), and having been published in the U.S. was probably hard to come by in Israel. This is the perfect sort of book for an Israeli to plagiarize from, and years ago it would have been virtually impossible for anyone to realize what had happened. Yet with Otzar ha-Hokhmah I was able to locate the plagiarism in a matter of seconds.
I think the explanation for plagiarisms like this is simply because people are greedy. They not only want that which they can achieve, but want to take from others as well. To once again cite the Gaon R. Mizrach-Etz, “a man’s got to know his limitations.”
Yet I must also note are cases of men who plagiarized in their early years but later became great Torah scholars, showing that a youthful error need not determine the course of one’s subsequent development.[11]
Sometimes, what appears to be a plagiarism has a much simpler explanation.[12] Here is a page from R. Moses Teitlebaum’s Heshiv Moshe, no. 87.

Compare this responsum with what appears in R. Abraham Bornstein, Avnei Nezer, Hoshen Mishpat, Likutei Teshuvot no. 101. The responsa are basically identical except for the dates and addressee.

What is going on here? I think it is obvious that R. Bornstein had a handwritten copy of the responsum, which he presumably copied out of Heshiv Moshe, a work published in 1866. After his death the one who put together his responsa did not realize that this was a responsum of R. Moses Teitelbaum, so he published it adding Bornstein’s signature and a new date. He also assumed that when the original responsum referred to the questioner as ש”נ it meant שינאווי when in fact it means שיאיר נרו or שיחיה נצח. Furthermore, in the original responsum it states דבר זה מתורת משה ילמדני which is an allusion to the one being asked the question, R. Moses Teitelbaum. Yet this was overlooked when the responsum was included in the Avnei Nezer.

Here is another example of what has been alleged to be plagiarism.[13] It is a passage from the Beur Halakhah, 494, s.v. מבחודש השלישי.

 

Now look at the Shulhan Arukh ha-Rav, 494:8-11, and you can see that it has been copied word for word, even though at the end of the Beur Halakhah it states: זהו תמצית דברי האחרונים

 

What to make of this? One of the commenters on the site that calls attention to this text sees here an indication that the Hafetz Hayyim’s son was also involved in the writing of the Mishnah Berurah (as he claimed), since the Hafetz Hayyim himself would not do such a thing. Yet matters are more complicated than this, as there are also other places where the Mishnah Berurah copies word for word from the Shulhan Arukh ha-Rav (and presumably from others sources as well).[14] Are we to assume that these were all inserted by his son?

It appears that the Hafetz Hayyim’s conception of what was proper in using earlier sources differed from what is accepted today, much like standards were also different in medieval times. Furthermore, since the Hafetz Hayyim writes זהו תמצית דברי האחרונים, even from a contemporary perspective we are not dealing with plagiarism. But the question is – and I don’t have the answer – why in some places the Hafetz Hayyim did not indicate when he was taking material from the Shulhan Arukh ha-Rav. He does mention in the introduction that the Shulhan Arukh ha-Rav is one of the sources from which his own commentary derives its material, and he constantly refers to it, so why in this case is there no indication of his source? Maybe one of the readers can answer if the Shulhan Arukh ha-Rav is unusual in this regard, or if this is done with other sources as well. As far as I know, we don’t yet have an edition of the Mishnah Berurah that provides all the sources used in the text.
2. In Ha-Ma’ayan, Tishrei 5771 and Tevet 5771 there are articles on the idea of “Halakhic Paradox” by R. Michael Avraham and R. Meir Bareli. You can see Ha-Ma’ayan online here.
Here is another halakhic paradox that I found in the journal Ohel Yitzhak, Sivan 5668, p. 4b. Take a look at R. Menahem Ratner’s second question. I tried to actually put what he is asking into English but was unsuccessful as my mind kept going in circles. As with all such cases, and one immediately thinks of Zeno’s paradoxes, the problem is to determine if we are indeed dealing with a real paradox or if the paradox is only apparent. So I ask those readers who want to try to get their head around what Ratner is saying, is this a real paradox or is he missing something?

3. In the past few years there were many topics I wanted to get to, but simply didn’t have the time. These matters are not much in the news now so I won’t discuss them in detail as I had originally hoped to. However, I will make a few comments as I think readers will still find the topics of interest.
Let’s start with the commentary of the Malbim on Kohelet that was published in 2008. Here is the title page.

Understandably, there was much excitement when this book appeared since it is quite an event when an unknown commentary of such a major figure is discovered. However, the excitement was short-lived, as it soon became known that the commentary was not by the Malbim but by a nineteenth-century maskil, Jonah Bardah. Even more embarrassing for the publisher, Machon Oz ve-Hadar, is that Bardah’s commentary even appeared in print in 1850. Here are the title pages.

 

This would be bad no matter who the publisher was, but the fact that Machon Oz ve-Hadar is from New Square, which is as far removed from Haskalah imaginable, makes the mistake drip with irony.
How did such a blunder happen? Today, it seems that everyone is looking for unknown material to publish. There are a number of journals that devote a good deal of space to this, and I often wonder what will happen when we run out of unpublished documents. With this mindset you can imagine how excited the publisher was when he was informed that someone had located a previously unknown commentary by the Malbim. The assumption that this was the Malbim’s text was due to the similarity between the method of commentary in the newly discovered work and other commentaries of the Malbim. Without careful examination, the Kohelet commentary was published and this would in turn lead to great embarrassment, not to mention a lot of wasted time and money.
The story of this mistake is found in a document entitled Sheker Soferim. Here is the title page.

(A softened version of this article appeared in Yeshurun 25 [2011], pp. 724ff., and there the author’s name is revealed: R. Avraham Yeshaya Zecharish.[15]) This is really a damning document as it shows that the publisher had already been told that the handwriting of the commentary was not that of Malbim. I am not going to say that the publisher knowingly printed a fraud in order to profit by the Malbim’s name. But I think it is obvious that that the publisher’s great desire to publish the work caused him ignore what he had been told and to instead rely on his own “experts.” Whoever edited the work also showed his (their?) ignorance, since when the commentary referred to רמבמ”ן , not knowing that this referred to Mendelssohn the text was “corrected” to read רמב”ן!
Despite my sense that there was no intentional fraudulence in this publication, I don’t entirely discount the possibility that the publisher knew the commentary was not by Malbim but printed it anyway. I say this because as shown in Sheker Soferim there is one passage in the commentary where the “Malbim” claims that there is a mistake in the biblical text. The editors censored this passage, and this to be expected as from a haredi perspective such a comment is heretical. But if so, could the publisher actually believe that the Malbim wrote that which was censored?
Lest people think that things like this don’t have real effects in the world, let me just note that, as pointed out by Eliezer Brodt, an entire chapter of a doctoral dissertation is devoted to the false Malbim commentary on Kohelet.[16] Just think of how many hours were devoted to this dissertation chapter, all of which were wasted.
While Zecharish points to various “problematic” elements of the commentary that the publisher should have been aware of, he misses one right on the first page.

The notes at the bottom of the page are found in the original manuscript and publication. Here is the page.

In the commentary to the first verse the “Malbim” explains how the beginning of biblical books, where the author is introduced, is written by a later person.
.ואדמה כי לא יטעה כל משכיל לחשוב אשר המחבר בעצמו דיבר אלה הדברים
In the note the “Malbim” adds:
.עיין בהראב”ע בהתחלת ספר דברים
The beginning of Deuteronomy states: “These are the words which Moses spoke unto all Israel beyond the Jordan.” Upon these words Ibn Ezra introduces his “secret of the twelve” which focuses on post-Mosaic additions to the Torah. It is incredible that while the “Malbim’s” intention is crystal clear, namely, that the beginning of Deuteronomy was written after Moses, the editors didn’t catch this and see anything problematic in the comment, a comment that would never have been made by the Malbim.[17]
——

[1] See here. For former French Chief Rabbi Gilles Bernheim’s plagiarism, see the statement in First Things available here.
I think this sentence, from the article, is particularly apt:

One of the perversions of our era is to make a god of intellectual property. Most commentators described Bernheim as “stealing” words and sentences. This is wrongheaded. Plagiarism is a sin against truth, not property. It’s first and foremost a kind of lying, not a kind of stealing. He violated our trust by speaking in a voice that was not his own, which is why in this and other cases of plagiarism the writer loses intellectual and moral authority broadly.

The importance of our spiritual leaders speaking the truth cannot be stressed enough. R. Kook writes about how forces of heresy were strengthened when people saw unethical behavior among בעלי תורה ואמונה. See Eder ha-Yekar, p. 43.
R. Joseph Ibn Caspi explains at length how a prophet, who models himself on God who is called א-ל האמת, always speaks the truth, even when speaking to his wife and children (!). See Shulhan ha-Kesef, ed. Kasher (Jerusalem, 1996), pp. 146, 163. This is so important to Ibn Caspi that he deals with a number of biblical examples where it appears that a prophet did not speak truthfully, and he argues that the meaning is not what appears at first glance. The one case where he acknowledges that we are dealing with a lie is Jacob telling Isaac, “I am Esau your firstborn” (Gen 27:19). Yet this does not affect Ibn Caspi’s thesis because he claims, p. 150, that when Jacob told this lie he was not yet a prophet.
.הנה כחש אבל עדין לא הגיע למדרגת הנבואה עד היותו בדרך חרן וראה הסולם
After his discussion about prophets and how they were always truthful, Ibn Caspi concludes, p. 163, that this is also how a חכם should behave. Our rabbis now stand in place of the prophets of old, thus they too much be paragons of truth.
With regard to Ibn Caspi’s Shulhan ha-Kesef, I would like to make one further point. In a previous post, see here, I discussed how, according to Ibn Caspi, the Torah contains statements that are not actually true, but were believed as such by the ancients. We see another example of this in Shulhan Kesef, p. 147, where he writes, in seeking to explain an example where it appears a prophet lied:
.כי הנביא שם משותף וכבר הרחיב הכתוב ואמר “חנניה הנביא” בסתם
What Ibn Caspi is saying is that even though the Bible refers to someone as a prophet, this doesn’t mean he was really a prophet. It could be that he is referred to as such because this is what the people believed, even though the people were incorrect. In other words, the Bible incorporates the incorrect view of the people in its narrative. The proof he brings is from Jeremiah 28 where Hananiah is referred to as a prophet but in reality he was a fraud.
[2] See most recently Shmuel Ashkenazi, “Ha-Gonev min ha-Sefer,” Yeshurun 25 (2011), pp. 675-690.
[3] See here.
[4] See e.g., Bekhorot 31b, Menahot 93b; R. Moses Zweig, Ohel Moshe, vol. 1, no. 41. The fact that the Sages had this problem in their own day is probably also why they stressed the importance of proper attribution. This is pointed out by R. Nathan Neta Olevski, Hayei Olam Nata (Jerusalem,1995), p. 241:
מזה נראה כי גם בימיהם כבר פשתה המספחת להתגדר בגנבי גנובי את תורת אחרים ולכן ראו חז”ל להגדיל ערך המשתמר מזה ולחשוב דבר זה בין המ”ח דברים שהתורה נקנית בהן
[5] See e.g., R. Yekutiel Yehudah Greenwald, Mekorot le-Korot Yisrael (n.p., 1934), p. 48.
[6] See e.g., Nahum Rakover, Zekhut ha-Yotzrim bi-Mekorot ha-Yehudi’im (Jerusalem, 1991), pp. 38ff.
[7] Otzrot ha-Sofer 14 (5764), p. 91:
.זה אני מוחל לכם אם אתם אומרים חידושיי בשמכם, אבל אם אתם אומרים חידושים שלכם בשמי זה אינני מוחל לכם
For a communal rabbi, who was expected to prepare his own derashot, it was unacceptable to inform his listeners that he was using material from others. However, R. Asher Anshel Yehudah Miller, Olamo shel Abba (Jerusalem, 1984), p. 187, reported one tongue-in-cheek justification of this practice if due to circumstances beyond his control the rabbi was unable to properly prepare for his Shabbat ha-Gadol derashah. Since the Talmud, Pesahim 6a, states שואלין ודורשין בהלכות פסח, one can derive from this that מותר “לשאול” מאחרים בשעת הדחק ולדרוש בהלכות פסח
[8] I mention geneivat da’at, yet according to some one who plagiarizes actually violates the prohibition against actual geneivah. See R. Yaakov Avraham Cohen, Emek ha-Mishpat, vol. 4, nos. 2, 24; R. Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, Hadar Yaakov, vol. 5, no. 38. R. Isaiah Horowitz, Shenei Luhot ha-Berit: Masekhet Shevuot, no. 71, writes about plagiarism:  יותר גזילה מגזילת ממון
R. Eleazar Kalir states that the plagiarizer violates a positive commandment. See Havot Yair (Vilna, 1912; printed as the second part of the Malbim’s Eretz Hemdah), p. 26a:
ואומרים חידושי תורה מה שלא עמלו בו רק מפי השמועה שמעו ואומרים משמיה דנפשם ועוברים על עשה . . . שכך אמרו כל האומר דבר בשם אומרו מביא גאולה לעולם
See also the very harsh comments of R. Joseph Hayyim David Azulai in his Berit Olam to Sefer Hasidim, no. 224, which should be enough to scare away at least some of the plagiarizers:
אם כותב ספר וגנב תורת אחרים . . . בחצי ימיו יעזבנו ואחריתו יבא בגלגול אחר ויהיה נבל ויהיה מזולזל כי נבל הוא ונבלה עמו. רחמנא ליצלן
[9] Robert Klein called my attention to the final part of R. Solomon Ephraim Luntshitz’s introduction to his Keli Yekar, where he suspects that some of the commentators who preceded him were guilty of plagiarism. See also his Olelot Ephraim, at the end of the introduction, where he claims that all the plagiarisms are delaying the arrival of the Messiah. He plays on the verse עשות ספרים הרבה אין קץ  and explains that since so many new books are full of plagiarisms, עשיית ספרים הרבה גורם איחור קץ הימים.
R. Solomon Alkabetz, Manot ha-Levi (Lvov, 1911), p. 91b, also refers to the plagiarizers of his day. I called attention to R. Eliyahu Schlesinger’s plagiarism in my review of Avi Sagi’s and Zvi Zohar’s book on conversion, available here. See p. 9 n. 29. See also my post from June 25, 2010, available here, where I cite another case of plagiarism from Schlesinger. I found these examples by chance, and I am sure that if I were to carefully examine the latter’s writings I would come up with more. Yet there doesn’t seem to be much point in doing so, since in the haredi world there simply is no accountability in matters like this.
A number of scholars have discussed plagiarism with regard to Abarbanel, and I hope to return to this. For now, let me just note the following. In his introduction to Trei Asar, p. 13, Abarbanel explicitly denies that he plagiarized, while at the same time accusing R. David Kimhi of doing so.
שהמובחרים והטובים מהפירושים שזכר רבי דוד קמחי מדבר [!] הראב”ע לקחה [!], עם היות שלא זכרם בשמו ואני איחס כל דבר לאומרו פן אהיה ממגנבי דברים
At the end of his commentary to Amos, he repeats the accusation:
ומה שפירש עוד בהלא כבני כושיים בשם אביו הנה הוא לקוח מדברי הרב רבי אברהם בן עזרא ומה לו לגנוב דברים
See R. Dovberish Tursch, Moznei Tzedek (Warsaw, 1905), p. 195; Abraham Lipshitz, Pirkei Iyun be-Mishnat Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra (Jerusalem, 1982), p. 131.
[10] It is hard to take this explanation seriously. Talking during the repetition of the Amidah has always been common, yet rather than omit mention of this matter, the Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 124:6, writes:
לא ישיח שיחת חולין בשעה שש”צ חוזר התפלה ואם שח הוא חוטא וגדול עונו מנשוא וגוערים בו
R. Zvi Yehudah Kook reported that his grandfather, R. Shlomo Zalman Kook, once strongly rebuked someone for talking during the repetition of the Amidah. When it was pointed out to him that דברי חכמים בנחת נשמעים, he replied that the Shulhan Arukh uses the word גוערים and that does not mean a gentle suggestion but a sharp rebuke. See R. Yair Uriel, Be-Shipulei ha-Gelimah (n.p., 2012), p. 32. (The story immediately following this one is also of interest. It records that R. Zvi Yehudah opposed the common practice [at least in America] of singing אשמנו בגדנו:
יש לומר את הדברים ברצינות, בצער ובכאב, ולא מתאימה לזה שירה 
It seems that R. Abraham Isaac Kook followed in the path of his father. See ibid., pp. 58-59, for the famous story of how R. Kook, while rav in Bausk, once slapped a “macher” in the face when he insulted R. Zelig Reuven Bengis. (The story is told in great detail in R. Moshe Zvi Neriyah, Sihot ha-Re’iyah [Tel Aviv, 1979], ch. 22.) R. Kook later explained that he did not slap the man in a fit of anger, but was of completely sound mind and did it in order to follow the Sages’ prescription of how to respond to one who degrades a Torah scholar:
“וכך אמר: “דינא הכי, מי ששומע זילותא של צורבא מרבנן צריך למחות
All I would say is that one must be careful with who one slaps. R. Yekutiel Yehudah Greenwald, Li-Felagot Yisrael be-Ungaryah (Deva, 1929), p. 25, records a story from mid-eighteenth-century Hungary where in the synagogue and in front of the congregation the head of the community slapped the rabbi in the face. This was the last straw for the rabbi (who was really a phony), and he, his wife, and children converted to Christianity.
R. Naphtali Zvi Judah Berlin would occasionally slap a student in the face. On one occasion it even led to a noisy protest by the students. Because the students refused to back down, the Netziv unable able to deliver his shiur. This led to him making a public apology to the students, which they happily accepted. See M. Eisenstadt, “Revolutzyah bi-‘Yeshivah,’” Ha-Tzefirah, June 2, 1916, pp. 1-2 (referred to by Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Ninteenth Century [Oxford, 2012], p. 113).
Since we are on the subject of slapping in the face, and since I mentioned R. Yitzhak Zilberstein in my last post, here is something else from his Hashukei Hemed on Bava Kamma, pp. 492-493.

 

I think it is quite interesting that he takes it as a given that policemen in Israel will beat thieves until they confess. Is there any truth to this at all? He himself thinks it is good that thieves be given a good slap in the face.

There are many more examples I could cite of people being slapped in the face, including by rabbis. One thing that is clear is that face-slapping has gone out of style.. It is like fainting, which was common in old movies. But when was the last time you saw a woman faint? It just doesn’t happen anymore.
Returning to R. Bengis, it is noteworthy that he and R. Kook were great friends from their days in Volozhin.  See the booklet Or Reuven (Jerusalem, 2011), which is devoted to their relationship R. Bengis’ letters to R. Kook in Iggerot la-Rei’yah show that he regarded R. Kook as rav of Jerusalem and chief rabbi of the Land of Israel. Only after R. Kook’s death did R. Bengis become Rosh Av Beit Din of the Edah Haredit in Jerusalem. His life-long admiration for R. Kook, even in his new position with the Edah Haredit, is, of course, not usually mentioned in haredi discussions of him. Since in the past I have criticized Yeshurun for its conscious distortions (all in the service of the haredi cause), let me now praise it for including the following in vol. 12 (2003), p. 156 n. 35.

Rabbi Nathan Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, pp. 305-306, reports in the name of R. Yosef Buxbaum that R. Bengis knew the poetry of Pushkin. (He also quotes a report that R. Bengis did not know Russian and when tested by a government official to ensure that secular studies were being taught in Volozhin, he just repeated the page of Pushkin from memory which he had prepared ahead of time by having another student read it for him. This strikes me as an apologetic attempt to “kasher” R. Bengis, as followers of the Edah Haredit will not take kindly to the knowledge that R. Bengis knew Russian poetry.)
For a recent discussion of R. Bengis and his brother, who went by the name of “Ben Da’at”, see here.
According to an unpublished collection of Brisker stories in my possession, R. Velvel Soloveitchik said about R. Bengis that just because one is a great talmid hakham does not mean that he is also a leader. Perhaps R. Velvel had this view of R. Bengis because the latter’s extremist credentials left something to be desired.
[11] Marvin J. Heller, Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden and Boston, 2008), p. 204, writes as follows about R. David Lida: “I would suggest, and this is highly speculative and certainly not a justification, that Lida’s acts of literary piracy were youthful improprieties, albeit of a most serious nature. A young man, inexperienced, perhaps immature, from whom much was expected, hoping to impress others and to further a burgeoning career, erred and claimed authorship of works he had not written, but rather discovered in manuscript.”
[12] The following example, with some of the explanations I give, is found here.
[13] This too was noted here.
[14] In a comment to my last post, someone wrote:

“The part about Anshei Keneset ha-Gedolah requiring the Amidah to be recited twice a day and that women are also obligated in this is not from Nahmanides. This is the Mishnah Berurah speaking.”

Actually, these are the words of the Shulchan Aruch HaRav (או”ח קו,ב), quoted here verbatim.

This practice of the MB citing whole paragraphs from the SAH – without attributing the author – is common throughout the his work, in leads many times to run-on sentences and disambiguation such as the one at hand.

[15] See also the online discussion here.
[16] “Ha-Sinonomyah bi-Leshon ha-Mikra al Pi Shitat Malbim,” (unpublished doctoral dissertation, Bar Ilan University, 2009).
[17] See here where I mention how R. Yosef Reinman also didn’t know anything about Ibn Ezra’s “critical” views. In the post I also discuss the controversy regarding Reinman co-authoring a book with a Reform rabbi. In the introduction to his Avir Yosef (Lakewood, 2008), Reinman defends himself.


ביקורת ספרים: מסורת התורה שבעל פה, הרב פרופ’ שלמה זלמן הבלין

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ביקורת ספרים: מסורת התורה שבעל פה, הרב פרופ’ שלמה זלמן הבלין
מאת: רב צעיר
הספר “מסורת התורה שבעל פה – יסודותיה, עקרונותיה והגדרותיה” שהוציא לאור לפני כשנה הרב פרופ’ שלמה זלמן הבלין, בהוצאת מכללת אורות-ישראל, עוסק בהיבטים שונים של אחד הנושאים שמעסיקים ביותר את חיי היהודי המאמין, התורה שבעל פה. הספר מכיל חמישה עשר פרקים, חמשה מתוכם רואים אור לראשונה בספר זה, והעשרה הנותרים ראו אור בכתבי עת שונים במהלך השנים. בתור לקט כזה, הספר אינו אחיד. ישנם פרקים הכתובים בצורה אינציקלופדית (כך למשל פרק י”א שהוא למעשה הערך “תלמוד בבלי” מהאנציקלופדיה העברית), וישנם פרקים המכילים חידושים מפליגים. ישנם פרקים בעלי אופי יותר בית-מדרשי, ישנם בעלי אופי יותר עממי, וישנם בעלי אופי מאד אקדמאי. ישנם פרקים עם ריבוי הפניות והערות שוליים וישנם עם מעט מאד. ככלל, המחבר משתדל לעסוק בכל מה שקשור להגדרת ולהבנת מהותה של התורה שבעל פה. אני מניח שכל מי שנושא התורה שבעל פה מעסיק אותו, בין אם זה בעל-בית שלומד דף יומי, או אברך שלומד בכולל או חוקר תלמוד באוניברסיטה, ימצא בספר זה דברים מרתקים. עוד חידוש שישנו בספר זה הוא שמצורף אליו תקליטור ובו כל הספר, זאת על מנת להקל על הלומד לחפש בספר וכדי לחסוך את הצורך בהכנת מפתח מפורט לספר. הספר הוא באורך כ600 עמודים ברוטו ונטו, כאמור, ללא מפתח וללא ביבליוגרפיה. אני מבקש להתייחס ולסקור שני נושאים משני פרקים מתוך הספר שאני מצאתי בהם חידוש. בפרק ד’ בספר, תחת הכותרת “להבנת יסודות דרכי הלימוד של חז”ל”, עוסק המחבר במדרש הידוע בתלמוד הבבלי מסכת מנחות (דף כט עמוד ב):
“אמר רב יהודה אמר רב: בשעה שעלה משה למרום, מצאו להקב”ה שיושב וקושר כתרים לאותיות, אמר לפניו: רבש”ע, מי מעכב על ידך? אמר לו: אדם אחד יש שעתיד להיות בסוף כמה דורות ועקיבא בן יוסף שמו, שעתיד לדרוש על כל קוץ וקוץ תילין תילין של הלכות.”
המחבר מעיר על כל שינויי הנוסח שישנם על טקסט סיפורי זה על פי כתבי יד, דפוסים ישנים וראשונים, לאחר מכן הוא נדרש לתוכן הסיפור:
–
מה פירוש “קושר כתרים לאותיות”?
–
מה פירוש “על כל קוץ וקוץ”?
–
היכן הם אותם “תילין תילין של הלכות”? הייתכן וכולם נאבדו מאיתנו? לאחרונה שמעתי בשיעור ברשת את הרב הרשל שכטר מסביר שהפשט במימרא זו זה שרבי עקיבא היה עוצר אחרי כל נקודה ונקודה בספר התורה ודורש הלכות. כלומר, ההלכות לא נדרשו מהתגים או הקוצים, אלא שהקוצים באים לבטא שלאחר כל אות שרבי עקיבא היה עובר, לומד ומלמד הוא היה דורש. עוד הוסיף הרב שכטר שהדרשנים אומרים שעל כל ניסיון לפגיעה במסורת היהודית (כל קוץ וקוץ) יש להוסיף עוד ועוד הלכות כדי לגדור את גדרה. כשמספרים סיפור זה לילדים מתארים להם שהקב”ה, בסיפור, מוסיף את התגין לאותיות שעטנ”ז ג”ץ, ואולי גם את קוצו של יו”ד. אך מעיר הרב הבלין בצדק שלא מצינו בשום מקום בחז”ל שהתגין המוכרים לנו מכונים “קוצים”. גם לא מצינו שהם נקראים “כתרים”. לא רק זה, אלא שגם לא מצינו שחז”ל קוראים להם “תגים”, כפי שהם מכונים בלשונינו, כך שגם אם נרצה לטעון שתגים הרי הם כתרים (כבלשון המשנה “דאשתמש בתגא חלף”), לא מצינו את המינוח תגים בלשון חז”ל כמשמש לקישוטי האותיות, כפי שאנו מכנים אותם.  לעומת זאת, מראה המחבר, שחז”ל קוראים “תגים” לחלקי האותיות עצמם. כך מצאנו בגמרא בשבת (קד ע”ב):
“כגון שנטלו לתגו של דל”ת ועשאו רי”ש”
וכבר הזכרנו גם את “קוצו של יוד”, חלק מהגוף האות יו”ד. המחבר הולך עוד צעד בחידושו ואת הביטוי “קושר כתרים” מפרש המחבר בתור “ממליך”, הקב”ה “ממליך” את האותיות, מעניק חשיבות לכל אחת ואחת מהן. וכך מסביר הקב”ה למשה שעתיד לקום רבי עקיבא והוא ידרוש כל קוץ וקוץ, זאת אומרת יחפש משמעות לכל אות ואות. רבי עקיבא, בניגוד לשיטת רבי
ישמעאל שסבר שדברה תורה כלשון בני אדם, ראה צורך לדייק ולדרוש כל אות ואות, כפי שאנו מוצאים בגמרא במסכת סנהדרין (דף נא עמוד ב):
“אמר ליה רבי עקיבא: ישמעאל אחי (ויקרא כ”א) בת ובת אני דורש. – אמר ליה: וכי מפני שאתה דורש בת ובת נוציא זו לשריפה?”
המחבר מבסס את דבריו ומביא להם סימוכין ממחברים שונים ואף ממשיך ומבאר את המשך המדרש לאור דברים אלו. בפרק ו’, הרואה אור לראשונה בספר זה, תחת הכותרת “דרשת חז”ל על ‘לא תסור … ימין ושמאל'”, דן המחבר בסתירה בין מדרשי הלכה. הספרי על הפסוק “לא תסור מן הדבר אשר יגידו לך ימין ושמאל” (דברים יז יא), המובא גם ברש”י שם, כותב:
“על פי התורה אשר יורוך, על דברי תורה חייבים מיתה ואין חייבים מיתה על דברי סופרים. ועל המשפט אשר יאמרו לך תעשה, מצות עשה. לא תסור מן התורה אשר יגידו לך, מצות לא תעשה, ימין ושמאל, אפילו מראים בעיניך על ימין שהוא שמאל ועל שמאל שהוא ימין שמע להם סליק פיסקא”
בתלמוד הירושלמי (מסכת הוריות פרק א), לעומת זאת, מופיע דרשה הפוכה לחלוטין:
“יכול אם יאמרו לך על ימין שהיא שמאל ועל שמאל שהיא ימין תשמע להם ת”ל ללכת ימין ושמאל שיאמרו לך על ימין שהוא ימין ועל שמאל שהיא שמאל.”
המחבר מקשה ששתי הדרשות אינן מובנות: וכי המדרש בספרי אינו מקבל את זה שייתכן ובית הדין טועה? וכי הגמרא בירושלמי מעוניין שכל אחד יחליט לעצמו מתי לשמוע לבית הדין ומתי לא? לכן, מנסה המחבר לפשר בין שני המדרשים. לצורך זה מביא המחבר 8 (!) דרכים, ממחברים שונים, כיצד ניתן לפשר בין שני המדרשים. לאחר מכן מציע המחבר אפשרות תשיעית, משלו. לדבריו, הדרך לפשר בין שני המדרשים מונח במילה אחת הנראית לא במקומה בדברי הירושלמי. המילה “ללכת”. מילה זו, אינה מופיעה בפסוק שאותו לכאורה דורשים: “לא תסור מן הדבר אשר יגידו לך ימין ושמאל”, אך כן מופיעה משום מה בדברי הירושלמי: “ת”ל ללכת ימין ושמאל”. לכן מסיק המחבר, שהירושלמי בכלל דורש פסוק אחר מספר דברים (כח יד):
“ולא תסור מכל הדברים אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם היום ימין ושמאל ללכת אחרי אלהים אחרים לעבדם”
כלומר, הספרי מדבר על הוראות חכמים “הדבר אשר יגידו לך”, ואלו הירושלמי עוסק בפסוק המדבר אודות ציווי הקב”ה בתורה “אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם”. על הראשון אומרת הספרי שגם אם בית הדין טעה בהוראתו חייבים לשמוע לו. אך הירושלמי מסייג זאת, שזהו כל עוד בית הדין לא הורו לעבור על דבר המפורש בתורה, כי על דבר המפורש בתורה יש לשמוע לבית הדין רק אם יאמרו על ימין שהוא ימין ועל שמאל שהוא שמאל. לא ניתן, לדעתי, לומר שפתרון זה של המחבר חף מדוחק, שהרי גם בפסוק בפרק כח לא נאמר “ללכת ימין ושמאל”, אלא “ימין ושמאל ללכת וכו'”, אך הכיוון הוא בהחלט מחודש ומרענן. יש עוד הרבה פרטים ודיונים בספר עב כרס זה. נזכיר רק עוד דיון אחד שמצאתי בו עניין מיוחד. בנספח לפרק ח’ “היחס לשאלות נוסח בספרי חז”ל”, מנתח המחבר את מעמד הבחינה המתואר בספרו של חיים פוטוק “ההבטחה” (The Promise). לדבריו, מעמד הבחינה של גיבור הספר, המתואר שם, הוא למעשה תיאור בחינה בישיבה-אוניברסיטה בניו-יורק בפני הרב יוסף דב סולובייצ’יק, הרב ירוחם גורעליק וד”ר שמואל בלקין. בחן רב, המחבר מגלה לנו לאיזה סוגיא רומז חיים פוטוק והוא מנתח ומבקר את התשובות שענה הנבחן. יותר ממה שכתבתי בפניכם יש בספר זה. אוהבי ספר ומחקר תלמודי בודאי ימצאו בו דברים אהובים.
*ברצוני להודות לרב ד”ר משה רחימי שהמציא לי את הספר ולמו”ח פרופ’ דניאל י. לסקר שעבר על דברי.


Deciphering the Talmud: The First English Edition of the Talmud Revisited. Michael Levi Rodkinson: His Translation of the Talmud, and the Ensuing Controversy

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In honor of the publication of Marvin J. Heller’s new
book, Further Studies in the Making
of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden, 2013), the Seforim Blog is happy to
present this abridgment of chapter 13.
                                                                                                                   
Deciphering the Talmud: The
First English Edition of the Talmud Revisited.
      Michael Levi Rodkinson: His Translation of
the Talmud, and the Ensuing Controversy     
Marvin J. Heller
The Talmud, the quintessential Jewish book, is a
challenging work.  A source of Bible
interpretation, halakhah, ethical values, and ontology, often described as a
sea, it is a comprehensive work that encompasses all aspects of human endeavor.
 Rabbinic Judaism is inconceivable
without the Talmud.  Jewish students
traditionally followed an educational path beginning in early childhood that
culminated in Talmud study, an activity that continued for the remainder of the
adult male’s life.
That path was never easy.  The Talmud is a complex and demanding work, its complexity
compounded by the fact that it is, to a large extent, written in Aramaic, the
language of the Jews in the Babylonian exile, spoken in the Middle East for a
millennium, and used in the redaction of the Talmud.  Jews living outside of the Middle East, and even there after
Aramaic ceased to be a spoken language, found approaching the Talmud a daunting
task.  Talmud study was, for many,
excepting scholars steeped in Talmudic literature, a difficult undertaking,
made all the more so by its language and structure.  After the Enlightenment, when large numbers of Jews received less
intensive Jewish educations, these impediments to Talmud study became more prevalent.
Elucidation of the text was accomplished through
commentaries, most notably that of R. Solomon ben Isaac (Rashi,
1040-1105).  Within his commentary there
are numerous instances in which Rashi explains a term in medieval French, his
vernacular.  In the modern period,
another solution to the language problem presented itself for those who
required more than the explanation of difficult terms, that is, the translation
of the text of the Talmud into the vernacular.
There have
been several such translations of Mishnayot and parts of or entire tractates
beginning in the sixteenth century.  It was not, however, until 1891 that a complete Talmudic tractate
was translated into English. In that year, the Rev. A. W. Streane, “Fellow and
Divinity and Hebrew Lecturer, of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and
Formerly Tyrwhitt’s Hebrew Scholar,” published an English edition of tractate Hagigah.  A
scholarly work, the translation, in 124 pages, is accompanied by marginal
references to biblical passages and, at the bottom of the page, notes. The
volume concludes with a glossary, indexes of biblical quotations, persons and
places, Hebrew words, and a general index.
All that was available in English from the Talmud in
the last decade of the nineteenth century were fragmentary portions of
tractates, Mishnaic treatises, and Streane’s translation of Hagigah.  At that time an effort was begun to
translate a substantial portion of the Talmud into English. The subject of this
paper is that pioneer effort to produce an English edition of the Talmud.  This paper addresses the background of that
translation, the manner in which it was undertaken, and its reception.  It is also concerned with the translator’s
motivation and his qualifications for undertaking such an ambitious
project.  The paper does not, however, critique
the translation, that having been done, and done well, as we shall see, in
contemporary appraisals of  the first
English Talmud.
The effort to provide English speakers with a Talmud
was undertaken by Michael Levi Rodkinson (1845-1904), whose background and
outlook made him an unlikely aspirant for such a project.  Rodkinson, a radical proponent of haskalah,
proposed to translate the entire Talmud, not only to making it accessible to
English speakers, but also to transform that “chaotic” work, through careful
editing, into “a readable, intelligible work.”
Rodkinson is a fascinating figure, albeit a thorough
scoundrel.  He was born to a
distinguished Hasidic family; his father was Sender (Alexander) Frumkin (1799-1876)
of Shklov, his mother, Radka Hayyah Horowitz (1802-47).  Radka died when Rodkinson was an infant, and
he later changed his surname from Frumkin to Rodkinson, that is, Radka’s
son.  Some time after, perhaps in his
early twenties, Rodkinson became a maskil, with the result that his
literary oeuvre encompasses both Hasidic and maskilic works.  Rodkinson’s personal life was disreputable,
his peccadilloes including bigamy and other affairs with women.  Subsequently, Rodkinson worked in St.
Petersburg as a stock broker and speculator, and sold forged documents, such as
military exemptions and travel papers.  For these latter offenses Rodkinson was sentenced to a year in prison,
three years loss of honor, and fined 1,800 rubles.  To avoid these penalties, Rodkinson fled to Königsberg, Prussia.
In Königsberg Rodkinson edited a journal, the Hebrew
weekly, ha-Kol (1876-c.1880), described as representing the “radical and
militant tendency of the Haskalah.”  He
was also the author of a number of monographs on various Jewish subjects,
purporting to explain Jewish religious and ritual practice, although certainly
not from a traditional perspective.  The
antagonism engendered by these monographs was  intensified by his personality, arousing such hostility, that,
together with his ongoing legal entanglements, Rodkinson, in 1889, found it
advisable to emigrate to the United States.
That Rodkinson should have left the Hasidic fold, become
a maskil, and adhered to a radical ideology is not that unusual. The
late nineteenth century was witness to the assimilation or casting off of
tradition by large numbers of Jews. 
However, that someone of Rodkinson’s outlook should undertake to translate
the Talmud into English is certainly unusual and perhaps  even unique.  There is, than, a contradiction between his enlightenment
attitudes and personality, and his attempts, through his abridgement and
translation, to spread Talmudic studies. 
Individual maskilim might, as an intellectual endeavor, continue
to study Talmud, but none devoted any effort or energy to bringing the Talmud
to a public that had largely distanced itself from that repository of Jewish
knowledge. 
Nevertheless, Rodkinson’s goal of translating the
Talmud had been, as we are informed in the introduction to Rosh Hashana (sample
volume), his dream for twelve years.  He
had expressed a “desire to revise and correct the Talmud” as early as 1882 in le-Boker
Mishpat, and subsequently in Iggorot Petuhot and Iggorot
ha-Talmud (Pressburg, 1885); and Ha-Kol (nos. 298, 299, and 300).  In Iggorot Petuhot (repeated in the
Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana) Rodkinson describes the incredible
multiplicity of rabbinic works since the redaction of the Talmud.  He notes the numerous responsa, which, their
great number notwithstanding, have not resolved anything.  The Talmudic page is confused and unclear,
due to its many commentaries and cross-references.  Rodkinson states that previous exegetes, such as the Vilna Gaon,
R. Akiva Egger, R. Pick, and others, rather than clarifying the page,
proliferated works that were printed with the Talmud, adding to the confusion.
It is Rodkinson’s intent to remove the shame of the Talmud from Israel and
restore the Talmud to its original state. 
Thought of this project gives him no rest.  He thinks of it day and night. 
He writes, towards the end of Iggorot Petuhot that he will “offer
and dedicate the remainder of his days on the altar of this work, it will be
the delight of his nights and with it he will complete the hours of the
day.  . . . it will give purpose to his
life.”
Perhaps Rodkinson’s motivation can be found in the
criticism leveled by his opponents, that intellectually, Rodkinson’s weltanschauung
was bifurcated, that is, he suffered from a conflict between his Hasidic past
and radical present.  Joseph Kohen-Zedek
(1827-1903), author of Sefat Emet, a work harshly critical of Rodkinson,
accused him of being “androgynous,” two-faced, “one time he shows his face as a
Hasid, the next as a heretic, and should therefore be called Sama’el instead of
Michael, for he is a destructive angel.”[1]  More recently, Joseph Dan, writing about
Rodkinson’s Hasidic stories, notes that “Michael Ha-Levi-Frumkin Rodkinson is unique
in that he was neither a real Hasid nor a real Maskil, . . .”[2]  Abridging, editing, translating, and, most
importantly, modernizing the Talmud may have been, for Rodkinson, a means of
reconciling these diverse worlds.  The
rationale for the abridged translation, “a work that cannot prove financially
profitable, and that will probably be productive of much adverse criticism in
certain quarters,” is set forth in the English preamble, “A Few Words to the
English Reader,” to Rosh Hashana, 
Since the time of Moses Mendelssohn the Jew has made
vast strides forward.  There is to-day
no branch of Human activity in which his influence is not felt.  Interesting himself in the affairs of the
world, he has been enabled to bring a degree of intelligence and industry to
bear upon modern life, that has challenged the admiration of the modern
world.  But with the Talmud, it is not
so.  That vast encyclopedia of Jewish
lore remains as it was.  No improvement
has been possible; no progress has been made with it.  Reprint after reprint has appeared, but it has always been called
the Talmud Babli, as chaotic as when its canon was originally appointed.  Commentary upon commentary has appeared yet
the text of the Talmud has not received that heroic treatment that will alone
enable us to say that the Talmud has been improved.[3]
Despite the “venomous vituperation” of the attacks
upon it, a more intimate knowledge of that work would demonstrate that the
Talmud “is a work of the greatest sympathies, the most liberal impulses, and
the widest humanitarianism.”  Many of
the phrases for which the Talmud is attacked were not part of that work, but
rather “are the latter additions of enemies and ignoramuses.”  How did its present situation come about?
When it is remembered that until it was first printed,
that before the canon of the Talmud was fixed in the sixth century, it had been
growing for more than six hundred years (the Talmud was in manuscript for eight
centuries), that during the whole of that time it was beset by ignorant, unrelenting
and bitter foes, that marginal notes were easily added and in after years
easily embodied in the text by unintelligent printers, such a theory as here
advanced is not at all improbable.[4]
Rodkinson rises to the defense of the Talmud, a work
that he feels will be remembered when the Shulkhan Arukh is forgotten,
concluding that the best defense is to allow it to “plead its own cause in a
modern language.”  Others have attempted
to translate it, for example, Pinner and Rawicz, but their attempts were
neither correct not readable, precisely because they were only translations.
If it were translated from the original text one would
not see the forest for the trees. . . . As it stands in the original it is,
therefore, a tangled mass defying reproductions in a modern tongue.  It has consequently occurred to us that in
order to enable the Talmud to open its mouth, the text must be carefully
edited.  A modern book, constructed on a
supposed scientific plan, we cannot make of it, for that would not be the Talmud;
but a readable, intelligible work it can be made.  We have, therefore, carefully punctuated the Hebrew text with
modern punctuation marks, and have re-edited it by omitting all such irrelevant
matter as interrupted the clear and orderly arrangement of the various
arguments.  In this way disappears those
unnecessary debates within debates, which only serve to confuse and never to
enlighten on the question debated. . . .[5]
In the Hebrew introduction Rodkinson writes that the
task of restoring the original, or core Talmud should properly be done by a
gathering of great sages.  However,
there are none today who wish to undertake such a great and burdensome
task.  If he would seek their
assistance, it would take years to arrive at some unity of purpose, and if this
was accomplished, it would take yet more years before anything was done, for
they are occupied with other matters. 
Furthermore, the rabbinic figures appropriate for this undertaking are a
minority of a minority, for “this work is not a matter of wisdom but of
action.”[6]
 Therefore, the project only
requires men who know the language and style of the Talmud, a sharp eye and
ear, who can distinguish between its various parts and contents.  Such men need not have learned in a bet
medrash (rabbinic house of study) or have earned the titles of professor or
doctor, nor know Latin or Greek.
Actual publication of “The New Talmud” began in
stages.  In 1895, Tract Rosh Hashana (New
Year) of the New Babylonian Talmud, Edited, Formulated and Punctuated for the
First Time by Michael L. Rodkinson and Translated by Rabbi J. Leonard Levy
. . .” appeared, issued in Philadelphia by Charles Sessler, Publisher.  The initial volume, with Hebrew and English
text, has the names of subscribers, Opinions, and a Few Words to the English
Reader from Rodkinson, all repeated in subsequent parts.
That same year, a sample volume, entitled Tract Rosh
Hashana, was published. Despite the fact that the title-page describes it as
tract Rosh Hashana, the volume actually consists of sample pages of Rosh
Hashana (Hebrew), together with sample pages of other tractates, in both
English and Hebrew..
The title-page of the sample volume (1895) notes that
it is being “edited, formulated and punctuated for the first time by Michael L.
Rodkinson, author of Numerous Theological Works, Formerly Editor of the Hebrew
‘CALL.’” The title-page is followed by subscription information, which may be
submitted to any one of eight individuals. 
Next are opinions from prominent personalities and Jewish periodicals,
not all of which can be printed due to space limitations.  In only two of these opinions do the writers
state that they have read the advance sheets. 
They are Drs. Szold and Mielziner. The former writes that the
Rev. M. L. Rodkinson has “laid before me a number of Hebrew proof sheets of the
treatise ‘Berachoth’ and the whole of the treatise ‘Sabbath’ in manuscript,”
requesting the work to be read critically, and, if it found favor, to “testify
to its merit.”  He continues that he has
“very carefully read sixteen chapters of the M.S. of treatise Sabbath and it
affords me the greatest pleasure . . . [that it] is of extraordinary merit and
value. . . .”  Dr. Mielziner writes that
he has “perused some advance sheets . . . and finds his [Rodkinson] work to be
very recommendable.”[7]  The remaining endorsements are for the
“planned edition,” among them the letters of Prof. Lazarus, of Berlin, and Rev.
Friedman, of Vienna, dated July, 1885, written in response to Rodkinson’s Ha-Kol
articles.
The most prominent supporter of the projected translation
was Dr. Isaac Mayer Wise (1819-1900), President of Hebrew Union College (HUC),
and, from 1889 to his death, president of the Central Conference of American
Rabbis.  He writes, in a letter dated
January 14, 1895, to an unnamed potential sponsor, “We have the duty to afford
him the opportunity to publish one volume. . . . If this volume is what he
promises, he will be the man to accomplish the task.”[8]  The “Opinions” are followed by “A Word to
the Public,” which informs us that
We have also after 40 years of study and research,
supported by frequent consultations with other like-students, corrected many
errors, discarded much legendary matter, which we have found, are entirely
foreign to the Talmud and its spirit, but have been introduced and “Talmudized”
so to speak, through innumerable reprints, unintentional and intentional errors
. . . and reduced the Babylonian Talmud from more than 5000 to about 1200
pages.  . . .
The entire cost of publication for the Hebrew and
English editions will amount to $7500.00 A sum of gigantic proportions
considering our humble means.  Yet we
are not the least appalled thereby. . . .[9]
The sample volume concludes with four specimen pages
in English of Sabbath, Chapter I; two pages, in Hebrew, of tractate Kiddushin,
with Rashi; four pages of sample sheets of “New Year” in English, tractate Rosh
Hashana in Hebrew, with Rashi; a long turgid Hebrew introduction; the
Hebrew opinions; and a second, brief, Hebrew introduction.
The first volumes of “The New Edition of the
Babylonian Talmud” were published in 1896, the last in 1903, followed, that
year, by a supplementary volume on the history of the Talmud.
Rodkinson described his approach to translating the
text of the Talmud in the Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana, and
afterwards, in response to criticism, in an article in Ner Ma’aravi, and
yet again, translated and in abbreviated form, in The History.  He claims that “in reality we omit nothing
of importance of the whole text, in the shape given out by its compilers, and
only that which we were certain to have been added by the dislikers of the
Talmud for the purpose of degrading it do we omit.”  Omissions fall into seven categories.  Repetitions in both halakhah and aggadah are omitted, whether occurring
in several tractates or in only one. 
For example, “The discussions in the Gemara are repeated sometimes from
one to fifteen times, some of them without any change at all, and some with
change of little or no importance.  In
our edition we give the discussion only once, in its proper place.”  Long involved discussions, repeated
elsewhere, are deleted, with only the conclusion being presented and, “Questions
which remain undecided and many of them are not at all practical but only
imaginary, and very peculiar too, we omit.”  In some instances Mishnayot are combined.  Concerning aggadic material he repeats his
assertion that “any one with common sense, and without partiality, can be found
who would deny that such things were inserted by the Talmud haters only for the
purpose of ridiculing the Talmud.  It is
self evident that in our edition such and numerous similar legends do not find
place.”
The groundwork for the translation, as described in
the Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana, had been done many years
earlier.  Rodkinson, therefore,
concludes that he is able to do “one page of gemara with all of the
commentaries necessary for the work,” without the pilpul, for he has
already read all of it in its entirety, as well as the Jerusalem Talmud, the
Tosefta, and Mishnayot in the winter of 1883-84.  Some pages will not even require a full hour, but a half hour
will be sufficient.  He feels that he is
capable of learning and understanding five pages of gemara daily that will [then]
be ready for the press, with the result that, by working five hours a day, the
entire project will only take about 550 days.[10]
As noted above, Rosh Hashana was translated by
Rabbi J. Leonard Levy (1865-1917), rabbi of the Reform Congregation Keneseth
Israel, Philadelphia.  He had officiated
previously in congregations in England and California, and would later be rabbi
of Congregation Rodeph Shalom, Pittsburgh, Pa. 
Levy was the founder of the Philadelphia Sterilized Milk, Ice and Coal
Society, and the author of several books, among them a ten-volume Sunday
Lectures. 
The title-page of the initial
printing of Rosh Hashana (1895) credits Rodkinson with only having “edited,
formulated, and punctuated” the tractate and Levy for having “translated for
the first time from the above text.” There are photographs of Levy and
Rodkinson, and a four-page preface by the former.  Levy writes in defense of the Talmud, conservatively and
movingly, without repeating the claims made by Rodkinson.  He informs us that he has done the translation
free of charge, for he agrees with the editor that the best defense for the
Talmud is to allow it to speak for itself. He continues that “From my boyhood,
when I sat at the feet of some of the most learned Talmudists in Europe, I
learned to love this wonderful work, this testimony to the mental and spiritual
activities of my ancestors.”[11]
That Levy was the translator of Rosh Hashana
was well known at the time.  For
example, the entry for Levy in capsule bibliographies of officiating Rabbis and
Cantors in the United States in the American Jewish Year Book for 5664,
1903-1904, includes among his accomplishments, “Translation of Tractate Rosh
Hashana of the Babylonian Talmud.”[12]
 Indeed, Rodkinson thanks Levy in
the Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana, acknowledging that the
translator, Levy, not only worked without compensation, but also took the time
to go over each and every word with him before it went to press.  Nevertheless, Rodkinson writes, there is
absolutely nothing in the translation that he has not verified to the original.[13]
Levy also translated a portion of the first chapter of
Berakhot, printed in the Atlantic Coast Jewish Annual.[14]
The title-page states “Tract Berakhoth (‘Benedictions’) of the Unabbreviated
Edition of the Babylonian Talmud Translated into English for the first time by
Rabbi J. Leonard Levy . . . Translator of Tract ‘Rosh Hashana’ of the Talmud
Babylonian, etc. etc.  To appear in
Quarterly Parts. . . .”  Levy’s work
here, apparently, was not meant to be an abridgement, or a restoration of the “original
Talmud.”  The English text, from the
beginning of the tractate to the middle of 6a in standard editions, includes
Hebrew phrases and accompanying footnotes.
The title-pages to the “New Edition of the Talmud”
state that they were translated into English by Michael L. Rodkinson.  No other translator or collaborator is
mentioned, nor is anyone else credited with such a role in the History of
the Talmud.  We have already seen
that in the sample volume, Rodkinson’s role is defined as editing, formulating
and punctuating.  The Prospectus informs
us that “The Rev. Dr. Grossman of Detroit will undertake ‘Yumah,’ and the Rev.
Dr. Stoltz, of Chicago, ‘Moed Katan,’” and that other tractates will be revised
by “competent authorities of English diction,” and the translation of Rosh Hashana
was done by Rabbi Levy.  However, by the
time that the New Talmud was being sold to the public the only name mentioned,
and as translator at that, is Rodkinson. 
While some commentators mention that other hands are visible in the
work, none of the rabbinic figures associated with the translation seem to have
objected to Rodkinson’s omission of their names.  Perhaps this may be attributed, as we shall see, to the responses
to the New Talmud and, most likely, a wish by the more prominent translators,
to distance themselves from it.
How did Rodkinson justify this?  In the introduction to Rosh Hashana
he remarks that books are not called by the names of multiple authors, but
rather by one writer, for example, the redactors of the Talmud, Ravina and Rav
Ashi.[15]  How then, and by whom was the translation
done?  Morris Vinchevsky, who wrote for ha-Kol
for two years, from 1877 through 1878, and was, during that time, a frequent
guest in the Rodkinson home, describes Rodkinson as being driven to translate
the Talmud into English, even though
he did not know a hundred English expressions.  How did he do the translation? Through
‘exploitation’ of indigent young men, with the help of his son (partially), and
the assistance of others.  The principle
was the translation.  Whether the
translations were good or bad – let the forest judge, as Shakespear says (As
You Like It).  Rodkinson was never
pedantic.  Whether earlier or later, for
better or worse, between impure or pure, never mattered.  Not because he was undisciplined and
anarchic, but because he was preoccupied all his days and involved with matters
that were not within his power.  For
that reason he was not careful about the cleanliness of his teeth, and perhaps
if he had, in his later years, false teeth, he would have carried them in his
pocket, as did the late Imber, owner of ha-Tikva, in his time.[16]
An example of Rodkinson’s difficulty with English can
be seen from the title-page of the sample volume issued in 1895, which refers
to him as, “Formerly Editor of the Hebrew ‘CALL,’” that is, ha-Kol.  The translation of ha-Kol, correctly
rendered on his German title-pages as Der Stimme, is “The Voice”, not
“CALL.”  The family has confirmed that
Rodkinson was not fluent in English. 
Who then, did translate the Talmud into English for Rodkinson? According
to Vinchevsky, the work was done by the “‘exploitation’ of indigent young men”
whom Deinard reports were paid eight dollars a week for their work.[17]  A fuller description is given by Judah D.
Eisenstein (1854-1956), who writes that, not understanding the English
language, Rodkinson employed Jewish high school students.  He translated the Talmud into Yiddish for
them, and they than translated it into English.  After they had worked for him for a short time, Rodkinson,
claiming their translation was unsatisfactory, dismissed them without
payment.  He then hired more young men,
repeating the process.[18]
A  considerable
part of the work appears to have been done by family members.  Mention is made, in the Prospectus, of
Rodkinson’s son Norbert.  Credit is also
due, based on the family’s oral tradition, to Rosamund, Rodkinson’s daughter
from his first marriage, who was his secretary and researcher.  Yet another family member who assisted him
was his nephew Abraham Frumkin. 
Rodkinson also made use of dictionaries, enabling him to also work on
the translation.  Nahum Sokolow
describes the process in a kinder fashion. 
“He didn’t know English – but his son did.  This would have deterred someone else, but not him.  This elderly man began to learn English, and
translated together with his son.  When
there were errors in the first volumes, they worked further to correct those
errors.  A man such as this is a living
melodrama.”[19]
There is a disquieting note to all of this.  It is clear from the above that many of
Rodkinson’s contemporaries knew that his English was insufficient for the
undertaking.  Nevertheless, Isaac Mayer
Wise, referring to Rodkinson’s proposed translation, wrote “he will be the man
to accomplish the task,” unless he meant in the role of editor, still a
daunting venture for someone not proficient in English.  Afterwards, Rodkinson was credited with
translating a difficult, complex work, written in Hebrew and Aramaic, into a
language that, if not foreign to him, was one in which he lacked literary
competence.  Some reviewers did comment
on the work of translating.  Kaufmann
Kohler, for example, wrote in his review, “there are different hands easily
discerned in the book,” and refers to Rodkinson as the editor.  Nevertheless, most reviewers accepted him as
the translator, and he is remembered for that achievement today.
Rosh Hashana
and Shekalim were quickly followed by Shabbat, in two parts.  Printed with Shabbat is a letter,
dated March 24, 1896, from the revisor, Dr. Wise, to the New Amsterdam Book
Company, and three introductory pieces by Rodkinson.  Wise writes:
I beg leave to testify herewith that I have carefully
read and revised the English translation of this volume of the “Tract Sabbath,”
Rodkinson’s reconstruction of the original text of the Talmud.  The translation is correct, almost literal,
where the English idiom permitted it.[20]
The first of Rodkinson’s pieces, the Editor’s Preface,
is the “A few Words to the English Reader” printed with Rosh Hashana,
slightly modified, with new concluding paragraphs.  Rodkinson writes that he is open to criticism that is objective
and will “gladly avail ourselves of suggestions given to us, but we shall
continue to disregard all personal criticism directed not against our work but
against its author.  This may serve as a
reply to a so-called review which appeared in one of our Western
weeklies.”  He concludes with heartfelt
thanks to Dr. Wise for “several evenings spent in revising this volume and for
many courtesies extended to us in general.” 
This is followed by a “Brief General Introduction to the Babylonian
Talmud,” where Rodkinson restates his opinion as to what has brought the Talmud
to its present condition:
Rabana Jose, president of the last Saburaic College in
Pumbeditha, who foresaw that his college was destined to be the last, owing to
the growing persecution of the Jews from the days of “Firuz.” He also feared
that the Amoraic manuscripts would be lost in the coming dark days or
materially altered, so he summoned all his contemporary associates and hastily
closed up the Talmud, prohibiting any further additions.  This enforced haste caused not only an
improper arrangement and many numerous repetitions and additions, but also led
to the “talmudizing” of articles directly traceable to bitter and relentless
enemies of the Talmud. . . . many theories were surreptitiously added by
its enemies, with the purpose of making it detestable to its adherents. . . .
This closing up of the Talmud did not, however, prevent the importation of
foreign matter into it, and many such have crept in through the agency of the
“Rabanan Saburai” and the Gaonim of every later generation.[21]
The third introduction, to tract Sabbath, includes
such remarks as “It has been proven that the seventh day kept holy by the Jews
was also in ancient times the general day of rest among other nations. . . .”[22]
The text of the remaining tractates are entirely in
English.  Much of the text is, as
Rodkinson had promised, revised, although expurgated might be a more accurate
description; particularly involved discussions or material disapproved of by
Rodkinson being omitted.  For example,
in the beginning of Yoma (2a), nineteen of the first thirty-one lines of
gemarah dealing with the parah adumah (red heifer) are omitted.
The first half of the verso (2b) has a discussion of a gezeirah shavah
(a hermeneutic principle based on like terms) concerning the application of the
term tziva (command) to Yom Kippur, also omitted.  There are no references to the standard
foliation, established with the editio princeps printed by Daniel
Bomberg (1519/20-23), nor, except for biblical references imbedded in the text,
are the indices accompanying the Talmud, prepared by R. Joshua ben Simon Baruch Boaz for the Giustiniani Talmud (1546-51)
either present or utilized. 
There are occasional accompanying brief footnotes.  Rodkinson informs the reader in “A Word to
the Public,” at the beginning of Ta’anit, that Rashi’s commentary has,
wherever practical, been “embodied in the text,” denoted by parentheses.  Where this was not practical, due to the
vagueness of the phraseology, it has been made an integral part of the
text.  When Rash’s commentary is “insufficient
or rather vague” he makes use of another commentary.
The New Talmud does not include all of the treatises
in the Babylonian Talmud.  All the
tractates in Orders Nashim and Kodashim are omitted, as well as
tractates Berakhot and Niddah, the only treatises in Orders Zera’im
and Tohorot, respectively.  The
absence of Berakhot, a popular tractate dealing with prayers and
blessings, is surprising, for sample pages, as noted above, were sent out prior
to the publication of this Talmud.  In
fact, Rodkinson had planned to print Berakhot initially, but, as he
relates in the Hebrew introduction, difficulties with the printer prevented him
from completing that tractate.  The New
Talmud was completed with a supplementary volume, The History of the Talmud
from the time of its formation. . . . Made up of two volumes in one, it is
much more than a history of the Talmud. 
As we shall see, Rodkinson used this book as a vehicle to discuss the
publication of his Talmud, his opponents, and the deleterious consequences of
their opposition.
The translation received favorable mention in Reform,
secular and even Christian journals. 
These reviews are general in nature, acknowledging the difficulties of
the task undertaken, and the concomitant benefit of opening what was previously
a closed work to a wider public.
Excerpts from these reviews are reprinted in The
History.  Among them are extracts
from The American Israelite, founded by I. M. Wise, which describes the
translation as a “work which is a credit to American Judaism; a book which
should be in every home . . . a work whose character will rank it with the
first dozen of most important books,” and again, after the appearance of volume
VIII, in 1899, “the English is correct, clear, and idiomatic as any celebrated
English scholar in London or Oxford could make it. We heartily admire also the
energy, the working force of this master mind, the like of which is rare, and
always was. . . .” The Home Library review, printed in its entirety,
concludes, “The reader of Dr. Rodkinson’s own writings easily recognizes in his
mastery of English style, and his high mental and ethical qualifications, ample
assurance of his ability to make his Reconstructed Talmud an adequate text-book
of the learning and the liberal spirit of modern Reformed Judaism.  To Christian scholars, teachers, and
students of liberal spirit, his work must be most welcome.”[23]
In the New York Times – Saturday Review of Books
(June 19, 1897) the unnamed reviewer expresses considerable skepticism
concerning the contemporary worth of the Talmud, but concedes it an antiquarian
value comparable to the Egyptian Book of the Dead.  Nevertheless, “looking at Mr. Michael L.
Rodkinson’s work as literature, it is a production which has required a vast
amount of knowledge and infinite patience. 
The knowledge of the Hebrew has been profound, and the intricacies of
the text are all made clear and plain. . . . An amazing mass of material in
these two volumes will delight the ethnologist, the archaeologist, and the
folklorist, for certainly before the publication of this work, access to the
Talmud has been well-nigh impossible to those who were not of Semitic origin.”  The reviewer finds the strongest endorsement
of the work in the testimony of the Rev. Isaac Wise.
Additional reviews, also positive, were published with
the completion of volume VIII on Seder Moed in 1899.  The New York Times reviewer now writes (November 25, 1899)
that “The importance of Mr. Rodkinson’s work need not be questioned.  The Talmud as he has translated it will take
its place in all theological and well appointed libraries indifferent as to
creed.”  A third review (July 7, 1900),
at the time of the appearance of the volume IX, begins “Mr. Rodkinson must be
admired for the courage, perseverance and untiring industry with which he has
undertaken and continues to present the English speaking public the successive
volumes of the Talmud.”  The review
concludes, however, with a cautionary note suggesting Rodkinson “procure for
the coming volumes a more careful revision of the translation, because,
according to the ‘pains (or care) so much more the reward of appreciation.’”
The American Israelite (August 17, 1899) enthusiastically endorses the work
by “the great Talmudist, Rodkinson” taking “special pride” in his “gigantic
work” and urging support for “this great enterprise.”  To the question as to how Rodkinson came to this “exceptional
clearness” it responds “Mr Rodkinson never frequented any Yeshibah in
Poland or elsewhere; so he never learned that Pilpulistic, scholastic
wrangling and spouting . . . he is entirely free from this corruption, and this
is an important recommendation for his English translation.”  The Independent reviewed the
translation at least five times.  The
second review (April 7, 1898) notes the opposition to Rodkinson’s translation, and
concludes, “If it is not satisfactory let a syndicate of rabbis do better.”  The Evangelist (November 18, 1897),
echoing Rodkinson, remarks that the Talmud was previously “almost inaccessible
to even Hebrew students” due to the fact that its text is “to the last degree
corrupt, marginal notes and glosses having crept in to an unprecedented degree,
owing to the fact that it was kept in manuscript for generations after the
invention of printing.”  Previous
attempts to edit the text were hopeless, a complete revision of the text being
required.  “Rabbi Rodkinson has at last
effected this textual revision . . . a very valuable contribution to
scholarship.”
Several of the later volumes include a reproduction of
the Grand Prize Diploma from the Republique Francaise, Ministere du Commerce
de l’Industrie des Postes et des Telegraphes Exposition Universelle de 1900
for, according to the accompanying description, “the first translation (into a
modern language) of the Babylonian Talmud. 
The name of the translator leads those in Group III, Class 13, of the
American Collection Exhibit.  Presented
by the International Jury of Awards, August 18, 1900.”  Here it is.
Praise in Reform, Christian and secular journals,
awards and faint praise from foreign dignitaries notwithstanding, there was
significant criticism of the New Edition of the Babylonian Talmud.  Skepticism at an English translation of the
Talmud was expressed by no less astute an observer of the Jewish scene than
Abraham Cahan:
I hear they are translating the Talmud into modern
languages.  It cannot be done.  They may render the old Chaldaic or Hebrew
into English, but the spirit which hovers between the lines, which goes out of
the folios spreading over the whole synagogue, and from the synagogues over the
out-of-the-way town, over the dining table of every hovel, over the soul of
every man, woman, or child; that musty, thrilling something which should be
called Talmudism can no more be translated into English or German or French
than the world of Julius Caesar can be shipped . . . to the Brooklyn Bridge.[24]
Less nostalgic, more critical, and certainly more
analytical than the positive reviews, were the negative responses to the “New
Edition of the Babylonian Talmud.” 
These reviews were written by individuals with Talmudic training, as
well as scholarly credentials, for whom the Talmud was not a closed book.  They were, therefore, capable of properly
evaluating Rodkinson’s achievement. 
Among the numerous negative articles are three by individuals whose
endorsements for the projected translation had been printed in the prospectus:
B. Felsenthal, M. Jastrow, and Kaufmann Kohler. All took special exception to
Rodkinson’s claim of having restored the original Talmud, apart from their
criticism of the translation.  Indeed, there
is considerable irony in the fact that these reviews were written by Reform
rabbis who had earlier expressed support for the concept of the New Talmud.
Marcus Jastrow (1829-1903), rabbi of Rodeph Shalom
Congregation from 1866 to 1892, when he became rabbi emeritus, is primarily
remembered today for his monumental A Dictionary of the Targumim, the
Talmud, Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature (London and New
York, 1886-1903).  He was also editor of
the Department of Talmud of the Jewish Encyclopedia.  Jastrow reviewed Rosh Hashana, edited
by Rodkinson and translated by Levy, in The Jewish Exponent (June 14,
1895), contrasting their respective endeavors:
Let it be said in the premises that, while the edition
of the original text has not a single redeeming feature which the reviewer
would have been but too glad to welcome, especially as he is one of those that,
misled by the editor’s specious representations, recommended his work, however
guardedly this may have been done: there is a great deal to commend in the
translator’s work, which must be welcomed by every friend of Talmudic
literature as a first and, as a whole, successful attempt to lend a modern
(English) garb to that peculiar mode of thought and logical deduction which the
Talmud represents.
Jastrow continues, that instead of the expected
abridgement useful for beginning students, it “claims to be a critical
edition,” eliminating passages added with the “malicious intention of
discrediting that luckless book.”  Not
only are these premises absurd, but “the editor’s interminable and abstruse
prefaces serve to illustrate his utter incompetency to attack a problem of
purgation. . . .” For example, “What can one expect from one who . . .
believes, in all earnestness, that a Christian hand has succeeded in smuggling
the second Psalm (Lamah Rag’shu) into our canon. . . .”  The reviewer notes that there are fourteen
abbreviations in the first twenty-one lines. 
Passages are rendered unintelligible by the lack of a natural sequence.  Jastrow concludes his discussion of
Rodkinson’s contribution: “We gladly leave this dark production of medieval
scholasticism with the gloss of modern scholarship . . . to enter the sunlit
fields of modern English in the translator’s preface and translation.”  Jastrow congratulates Levy for his efforts,
but notes there are mistakes, which reflect the haste with which the work was
done, and inconsistencies in the translation of technical terms.  Jastrow concludes with the wish that the
translator will “give us the benefit of a translation from an entire,
unabridged and unmutilated text.”
Kaufman Kohler (1843-1926) was a leader of the radical
branch of Reform Judaism and served, from 1903 to 1921, as president of Hebrew
Union College.  His review of Shabbat,
of the “New Talmud Translation by Rodkinson and Wise,” appeared in The
American Hebrew (July 17, 1896). 
Kohler, whose endorsement stated that he “indorsed the opinions
expressed by” the others, became, after seeing a printed tractate, a severe
critic of the translation.  He writes
that, to his regret, he “must entirely disagree with the venerable President of
the Cincinnati College,” that is, Dr. Wise. 
After comparing the translated text to standard editions he finds it to
be “utterly defective and unreliable.” 
He remarks that “in almost every uncommon word a degree of ignorance is
displayed which is simply appalling. 
The Palestinian town B’nei B’rak, known to every child that learns the
Pesach Haggada, is translated . . . ‘the children of Barak’. . . R. Isaac the
[black]smith as Isaac of Naphia . . . in the note we are informed by the
reviser that Nap’hia is the city whence R. Isaac came.”  Kohler notes that the translator in not
conversant with either traditional or modern dictionaries of Talmudic
terminology.  Rather, he “transcribes
and translates every foreign word in the crudest possible manner.  And yet he pretends to know.”  For example, a form of locust is translated
as Vineyard bird and described in a note 
as unknown to the commentators.  It
is, however, recorded in the dictionaries and “was no bird but a kind of
locust.  Such proofs of ignorance are
given in many a note.”[25]
Kohler takes issue not only with the translation of
terms but also with the fact that, “There are sins against the very spirit of
Talmudic lore which cannot be forgiven.” 
Indeed, “the vandalism perpetrated against the text is
unparalleled.  He mutilates and murders
the finest passages without the least cause. 
He garbles and spoils the best of sentences. . . . The very first page
of the Gemara is so mutilated, bone and marrow of the passages quoted so cut
and spoiled, that a comprehension of the whole is made impossible.”  Kohler concludes:
What he understands by scholarship is brought to light
in his introduction, about which it is not too much to say that, from beginning
to end, it abounds with false and foolish statements.  In one word, the work is a disgrace to Jewish scholarship in
America, and it is a sin to encourage, or support it.
J. D. Eisenstein, (1855-1956), author and editor of
the Hebrew encyclopedia, Ozar Yisrael (1907-13), and editor of such
anthologies as Ozar Midrashim (1915), Ozar Derushim and Ozar
Dinim u-Minhagim (1918), had written articles for ha-Sanegor, a
Rodkinson publication.  He wrote reviews
of both Rosh Hashana and Shabbat, first published in Ner
Ma’aravi.[26]  The first review begins with an appreciation
of the Talmud, recognizing that it is a complex and difficult work.  Efforts were made, therefore, as early as
the time of R. Ahai Gaon, to assist students of the Talmud.  The monumental works of Rambam (Maimonides)
and the Rif (Rav Alfas) were designed to address the complexities of the
Talmud, by selecting halakhic material only.  One result of their efforts was an increase, rather than a diminishment,
of Talmud study.  He is not, therefore,
inherently opposed to an abridgement of the Talmud.  Nevertheless, Eisenstein writes, he is ashamed to include this “dwarf”
with those giants, for it is tantamount to comparing a gnat to the Leviathan,
or a dark candle to the sun.  Where
those giants labored for years, this abridger thinks to learn the entire Torah
while standing on one foot, in a time that is neither day nor night.
Eisenstein enumerates eight categories of errors, each
supported by examples, in his review of Rosh Hashana,.  The first, dealing with errors in the
meaning of the Talmud, begins with “the abridgers” statement that he has not
added even a single letter but only removed unnecessary material.  This is reminiscent of the English Bible in
the museum in London, where the copyists transcribed the Ten Commandments,
omitting one word, “not” before 
“adultery,” adding nothing.[27]
 His final category of errors
deals with the abridgement of Rashi.  Eisenstein
finds misrepresentations in the Hebrew abridgement of that exegete, and in
references to Rashi in the English by the translator, Levy.  He concludes this review by stating that his
purpose was not to “shoot arrows of hate, and envy, nor to diminish the
reputation of the author,” but only to review the book, not the writer, and
therefore invites him to respond with reasons, for “it is Torah and we must
learn.”[28]
            In his review of Shabbat
Eisenstein suggests that the Jewish Publication Society undertake a proper
translation of the Talmud, for which we will bless the author [Rodkinson] for
being the inspiration for such a work. 
Noting that Rodkinson has said, correctly, that he would not respond to
personal attacks, Eisenstein writes that with this review he will refrain as
much as possible from mentioning the author; instead he will take that new
invention, the x-ray machine, to reveal the mistakes and errors in Shabbat,
which, perchance the author will agree to acknowledge and correct.  Eisenstein, instead of referring to
Rodkinson, now limits his references to the author.  He reviews the three introductions to Shabbat, and then
enumerates eighteen categories of errors in the abridged translation, supported
by 125 examples.  Rodkinson is accused
of perverting and misrepresenting the intent of the Talmud, mistranslating,
omitting references necessary to the passage under discussion, and for
referring to material that he has omitted.
The Rev. Dr. Bernard Felsenthal (1822-1908), author of
several books in German and English, among them works to be used in Hebrew
studies, was, at the time the New Talmud was published, Rabbi Emeritus of Zion
Congregation, Chicago, where he had officiated from 1863 to 1887.  Felsenthal wrote three pieces in the Reform
Advocate, the last a review taking four installments to complete, as well
as an open letter to Rodkinson, printed in the American Israelite and
the Chicago Israelite.  He also
wrote a critical letter to the editor in Ner Ma’aravi, in which he
states that he concurs with Eisenstein’s review.[29]
Felsenthal’s letter of endorsement, dated February 14,
1895, was particularly warm, recognizing the need for an abridgement of the
Talmud for students, and even rabbis, who do not have the time to master the “intricacies
of the dialectics” of the Talmud.  He
too, therefore, recommends the “intended publication.”  Three months later (May 11, 1895), however,
Felsenthal writes that his earlier approval of Mr. R.’s literary project was
not in “in the hope that he would lay before us ‘the Original Babylonian
Talmud,’ or the supposed ‘Talmud Yashan,’” but only in so far as it is,
or will be, “an abridgement of the Talmud, a ‘Talmud katzer.’” He
discusses the difficulty inherent in establishing a corrected text, and the
proper manner of approaching such a task. 
Felsenthal concludes, “I would respectfully suggest that Mr. Rodkinson
may descend from his high horse and that he may modestly restrict himself to
the work of editing merely a Talmud katzer for the use of younger
students and autodidacts.”  One week
later, in “An Additional Word Concerning Rodkinson’s New Talmud Edition,” he
observes that it is “not more than right and proper” to note that another copy
of Rosh Hashana has reached him, in which, on both the Hebrew and
English title-pages, the “words have been eliminated by which the editor had
claimed his work to be a restoration of the original Talmud, as it was,
in his opinion, in its pristine form.” 
That being the case, if Mr. Rodkinson restricts himself to an
abridgement or anthology, Felsenthal writes, much of what he said in the
previous issue “falls to the ground and becomes gegenstandlos.”
Subsequently (September 14 – October 5, 1895),
Felsenthal takes Rodkinson to task for his comments, in response to criticism,
that his purpose is “to purge the Talmud from the many falsifications . . . it
received by the hands of its enemies and thereby to restore the real
Talmud, the original Talmud in its pristine form. . . .”  Felsenthal’s introductory remarks, as harsh
as those of Kohler and Eisenstein, dismiss the abridged translation “as an
absolute failure,” neither useful as a school text-book nor for scholarly
purposes, “manufactured, as the author himself naively informs us, in a
mechanical way by the use of lead pencils and a pair of scissors.  Certain pieces, first marked by a red or
blue pencil, are cut out, and the remaining pieces are then glued together as
well as it may be.  In an average, our
manufacturer thus finishes, as he tells us, five pages in one day.”  The result is “a mutilated Talmud,
aye, it is a falsified Talmud.” 
The omission of intricate pilpul, a main characteristic of the
Talmud, which the Talmud itself repeatedly speaks of, is a falsification of
that work.
Felsenthal takes Rodkinson to task for “throwing
aside” passages which demonstrate intolerance or hostility towards gentiles as
foreign to the spirit of the Talmud, claiming the insertions were
surreptitiously smuggled into the text by enemies of the Talmud.  Felsenthal comments, “How, in heavens name,
did now ‘the enemies of the Talmud’ manage to double and treble the bulk of the
Talmud by inserting clandestinely and unbeknown to the rabbis and students such
enormous additions?” In one example at the beginning of the third installment,
a passage Rodkinson claims “never existed in Talmudical Judaism,” but rather is
a falsification, is found to exist in parallel passages elsewhere, including
the same tractate and in the Jerusalem Talmud. 
In the final installment of his review he suggests that Mr. M. L.
Rodkinson take as his next project the revision of the Hebrew Bible, purging it
from the many interpolations and falsifications Christian enemies “smuggled
stealthily into the Sacred Scriptures of the Jews during some dark night while
the Jews were off their guard!”
Felsenthal notes that passages declared by R. “To be
too difficult to be translated are ill selected.”  For example, “the word tzaphun (treasure), and the word is
taken there in the sense of tzaphon (North).  This agadic method of applying Biblical words and of connecting
with them new ideas, is to be met with on almost every page of Talmudical
literature.”  In relationship to another
example cited by Rodkinson, Felsenthal comments, “It is extremely easy, and a
tyro in Talmudic studies might master it.” 
He notes Rodkinson’s infelicitous transliterations, and writes:
And this man, so unlettered and so uncultured; this
man so without any mental discipline and without any methodical training; this
man to whom even the elementary rules of Nikud [vocalization] are an
unknown country; this man who has not the remotest idea what the words ‘canon
of correct criticism’ mean; this man who even to some extent is a stranger in
his particular field of learning, in talmudical literature and what is
pertaining thereto; – this man undertakes to issue a critical edition of the
Talmud!
Not only did individuals providing endorsements
withdraw their support.  At least one of
Rodkinson’s collaborators, R. Levy, the translater of  Rosh Hashana, also, apparently, dissociated himself from
the project.  Richard Gottheil,
reviewing Levy’s translation of Berakhot, writes in the Jewish
Messenger (May 22, 1896), “I suppose that the word ‘unabbreviated’ is a
disclaimer of any further connection with Mr. Rodkinson’s pseudo-critical work,
with which Mr. Levy’s name was at one time connected.”  Gottheil then praises Levy’s translation,
which he describes “as readable as such a translation can possibly be, even at
the certain expense of minor inaccuracies.”
The tepid reception of the New Edition of the
Babylonian Talmud was recognized in the press. 
For example, the Independent (September 28, 1899), which
expresses ongoing support for Rodkinson and his translation, observes that “We
regret that this enterprise – tho it might be criticized – is not better
patronized. The work should go into a multitude of libraries of Biblical
students.” Chagrin at the negative reviews of the “New Talmud” are voiced in an
editorial in the American Israelite (September 19, 1901), which restates
their initial support for the project. 
The editor writes:
The complaint voiced through the Jewish press that
Rodkinson’s translation of the Talmud is not receiving the support which its
merits deserve is very much in the nature of self accusation.  The truth is that the great undertaking has
never been able to overcome the onslaught originally made upon it.  Recognizing its great value, the late editor
of this paper [Isaac M. Wise] gave to the work . . . his earnest encouragement
and support, which, instead of being seconded by the Jewish press and rabbinate
was met by a torrent of abuse and misrepresentation.  . . . As soon as unbiased reviewers were made aware of its merits
they changed their unfavorable attitudes, but it was too late to overcome the
prejudice created by the first impression. 
. . . the non-Jewish press depended largely upon Jewish sources for
their information in regard to this work, and therefore reflected the
unfavorable opinion expressed by supposed Jewish authorities.[30]
Rodkinson expressed his disappointment in the second
revised printing of tractates Shabbat and Rosh Hashana in
1901.  The title-pages of these
tractates, unlike those of the other tractates in the second (1916-18) edition,
state, “Second edition, re-edited, revised and enlarged.”  Shabbat has a “Preface to the second
edition” dated June, 1901, which reflects Rodkinson’s disappointment at the
reception to his translation.  He
writes:
The translator of the Talmud, who has now reached the
thirteenth volume of his task, covering twenty one tracts of this great work, certainly
cannot point with any great pride to the fact that this is the second edition
of his translation which first appeared in 1896, for he believes that the
opening and bringing to light of a book so long withheld from the gaze of the
curious, and even the learned, should have attracted more attention and
deserved greater consideration than it has received.  However, he is glad to see that thousands of readers have at last
taken advantage of the opportunity of looking into the ‘sealed book,’ and to
such an extent that second editions have become necessary, both of this volume
and of the tract Rosh Hashana of the fourth volume, which he has enlarged upon,
adding many historical facts and legends, so that they now appear as
practically new works.
This is certainly an encouragement to him to continue
his work, with the hope that it will gain the proper recognition and proper
attention which he thinks this great work of the sixth century should receive
at the hands of all scholars and even laymen.
The modifications between the 1896 edition of Shabbat
and the second edition are insignificant. 
In the prefatory material, the photographs of Rodkinson and Wise have
been omitted, and a dedication to Edwin R. A. Seligman, Professor of Political
Science at Columbia University, dated June 15, 1901, followed by the preface to
the second edition, has been added. 
There are unsubstantial modifications to the editor’s preface.  Part one of Shabbat, that is,
chapters one through ten, is five pages longer.  Part two of Shabbat, chapters eleven through twenty-four,
has not been revised and is identical to the first edition.  An example of these modifications is the
first Mishnah, which concluded “or puts something into it, which is drawn to
the inside by the master, – they are both not guilty,” now reads “or puts
something into it which is drawn to the inside by the master, they are both
free.” The following gemara has been modified to include a cross reference,
thus: “We were taught elsewhere:” to “We were taught (Shebuoth, IV.2):”.
As noted above, the Talmud was completed with a
supplementary volume, The History of the Talmud from the time of its
formation . . ., comprised of two volumes in one.  This book, we are told in the preface, is to some extent based on
the work of Dr. A. Mielziner; as it “contains essentially all that concerns the
Talmud itself, we resolved to take it as a text for our historical
introduction, adding and abating as we deemed necessary.”  The first volume is a history of the Talmud,
from its inception through the Rholing-Block (sic) affair.[31]  It is followed by an appendix, which
includes material on varied subjects, many not pertinent to the books subject
matter, and a second appendix on the Karaites, Reformed Jews and resurrection.
Publication of the History provided an
opportunity to revisit the translation, which, all the previous, detailed
criticism notwithstanding, continued to find approval, at least in non-Jewish
circles.  The Nation (December
24, 1903) noted the “storm which greeted the first volumes, but which now,
happily, is blowing over. . . . Its causes were evidently in great part
personal and racial.  Dr. Rodkinson’s
work, on the other hand, has now passed to a public beyond all such limitations
and jealousies.”  Rodkinson is described
as “a most learned Talmudist of the ancient type,” whose ability to overcome
his early rabbinic education to be able to translate the Talmud into an “English
most able and nervous at that, is only another proof of the possibilities
inherent in the Jewish race and of the transforming and assimilating power of
our civilization.”  Rodkinson’s original
intent of restoring the original text of the Talmud, is compared to the task “of
editing the Arabic text of ‘The 1,001 Nights,’ a similarly gigantic oral and
floating compilation.”  The reviewer
concludes that “the translation should be heartily welcomed, and the iron
industry of the translator – brazen-bowelled as was ever Greek grammarian –
must be admired and commended.  He is
doing a piece of work of which he may well be proud. . . .”  The reviewer is equally pleased with the History.   The Catholic World (November, 1904)
describes the translation as a “memorable event indeed for both scholarship and
religion.”  It is less pleased with Dr.
Rodkinson’s introductory volume, The History of the Talmud, which is “hardly
so instructive as we should have expected.”
Criticism, or disapproval, was not restricted to
reviews, nor was it always direct. 
Solomon Schecter (1847-1915), 
lecturer in rabbinic theology at Cambridge University and, from 1902,
head of the Jewish Theological Seminary, rejected, as reported in the History,
a request from Rodkinson to attend lectures at that insitution.  Schecter puts Rodkinson off, writing, “I
have not at the moment any copy of the hours of the lectures either, nor do I
really think it would be profitable for you to attend an occasional lecture, as
you suggest. . . .”[32]
Criticism was also expressed by simply ignoring the
New Talmud.  Subsequent translations
into English either ignore or are critical of Rodkinson.  Samuel Malter, who translated Ta’anit
(Philadelphia, 1928), refers in passing to the New Talmud, by writing, “and an
uncritical fragmentary English translation (L. Rodkinson), none of which was
of  any aid to me.[33]
 Dr. J. H. Hertz, Chief Rabbi of
England, writes, in the introduction to the Soncino press translation of the
Talmud, “A reliable English translation of the whole Babylonian Talmud has long
been looked forward to by scholars.” In an address praising the Soncino Talmud,
he remarks that “Super-American hurry in the publication must be avoided,” and
in another address, “The Talmud as a Book,” he notes the Goldschmidt German and
Soncino English translations, but makes no mention of the Rodkinson effort.[34]
Michael Levi Rodkinson died of pneumonia on January 6,
1904.  He was buried in the public, that
is, non-denominational, section of Temple Israel Cemetery (then part of Mount
Hope Cemetery), Hastings On Hudson, New York, next to his second wife, Amalia.  His tombstone states that he is the
translator of the Babylonian Talmud. 
Rodkinson left, according to the publication list at the end of the History
of the Talmud, a number of manuscripts, among them The Fiftieth Jubilee
(a voluminous book of his autobiography). 
His death was briefly noted in an obituary in the New York Times
(January 8, 1904), which stated: “Rodkinson – Dr. Michael L. Rodkinson, editor
and translator of Babylonian Talmud, died Jan. 6, 1904.  Funeral will take place from his residence
Jan. 8, 1904 at 12 0′ clock noon.”  Brief
obituaries also appeared in The American Jewish Year Book (1904) and the
London Jewish Literary Annual.[35]
By the time of Rodkinson’s death even his supporters
had abandoned him.  In the Year Book
of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, Gotthard Deutsch (1859-1921),
Reform rabbi and professor of Jewish history at Hebrew Union College,
considered by many of his contemporaries, due to his meticulous attention to
detail, to be the foremost Jewish historian in the United States, writes, “Hesitatingly
I mention the name of Michael Levi Rodkinson, who died in New York, January 6,
1904.  While the result of his literary
activity is subject to severe criticism, we have to recognize both his
indefatigable energy and the shortcomings of our own public which considers the
demand of Jewish science rather a pretext for asking charity than a duty which
they owe themselves.”[36]
 The American Israelite, which
had often strongly defended Rodkinson’s translation, concluded its brief
obituary (January 14, 1904) with the remark that “He was rather an odd
character and had a hard struggle all his life to get means of subsistence
while doing his literary work.” A more informative obituary is in The
American Hebrew (January 16, 1904), which includes biographical
information, and then concludes, “We understand that the widow and the children
were left unprovided for, except for the proceeds from the sale of the Talmud
and the History of the Talmud.”
In 1926, Koheleth America, Deinard’s catalogue
of Hebrew books printed in America appeared. 
He succinctly describes Rosh Hashana and Shekalim,
observing that the approbations are from reformed rabbis “who concur with the
abridging of the Talmud – after they have all entirely forsaken the Torah of
Moses.”  He then remarks that the
success of Rodkinson’s condensation can be seen in I. D. Eisenstein’s review in
his Ma’amre Bikoret, where it is noted that the Reform rabbis who
initially supported the project subsequently publicly regretted giving that
support.[37]
After all of the criticism, the minor renewed interest
notwithstanding, Rodkinson remained generally neglected.  Where recalled, it was more often
negatively, and, concerning his translation, in a disparaging manner.  Rodkinson is not mentioned in Jewish
Publishing in America, nor in The Jews in America: A History.[38]  In the latter case, Albert Mordell,
reviewing the book for the Publication of the American Jewish Historical
Society, wrote, “Another woeful lack is that of mention of translations
from Hebrew classics in whole or part, even though some of these translations
were, like M. L. Rodkinson’s Talmud, not of a high order.”[39]   He is also neglected in Meyer Waxman’s A
History of Jewish Literature, where mention is made of several translations
in various languages.[40]
 Where the New Talmud is remembered it
is negatively, as in Yehuda Slutsky’s comment, “In his later years he devoted
himself to translating the Talmud.  The
value of this translation, printed in two editions, lies only in the fact that
it is a pioneering effort.”[41]  A biographer of Wise writes that “In 1898 he
gave his name to Michael Rodkinson’s quack translation of the Talmud. . . .”[42]   More
diplomatically, Jacob Rader Marcus, writes, that Rodkinson’s translations “were
anything but felicitous and did little to enhance the understanding of the
Talmud by non-Hebraists.”  Most
recently, R. Adam Mintz concludes that “Rodkinson’s work was rejected because
of its poor quality, and not because of an objection on principle to this type
of abridged translation.”[43]
Rodkinson took great pride in his translation of the
Talmud.  Indeed, his tombstone has an
inscription stating that he was the translator of the Babylonian Talmud, certainly
an attribution of questionable accuracy. 
It is ironic that Rodkinson, who did have other earlier accomplishments,
is credited with and remembered for, and negatively at that, a work for which
he was responsible and did oversee, but was, in truth, performed, either in its
entirety or in part, by others.
There is an epilogue to the New
Talmud story. After all of the above it would seem evident that the New Talmud
has been forgotten, only remembered by students of Jewish literary history.
However, that is not entirely the case, for the New Talmud has been revived,
particularly in non-Jewish circles, on the Internet.  The Internet Sacred Text Archive has posted the entire text
of  the “The Babylonian Talmud
Translated by M.L. Rodkinson [1918].”[44]  Their website is cited by a number of other
Internet sites, including at least one for Jewish studies.  The New Talmud is available on CD from both
the Sacred Text Archive, as one of 500 religious texts ($49.95), and from B
& R Samizdat Express, in the latter instance together with several other
Jewish texts ($29.95).  A number of used
and rare book sites offer individual volumes and entire sets of the New Talmud
at a wide range of prices.
Internet Sacred Text Archive and Samizdat Express
simply reproduce the text and are neutral in outlook. Unfortunately, other Internet
sites, more often than not anti-Semitic, reference and quote from the New Talmud.  This is also the case with a number of
anti-Semitic books.  Most surprisingly,
to conclude on a relatively positive note, the New Talmud reappears on the
reading list for college courses, for example, a lecture on “The Tractate Avot
and Rabbinic Judaism,” in Reed College. 
It seems that Michael Levi Rodkinson’s New Talmud has in fact not been
forgotten.  Whatever its shortcomings, it
has found an audience and is alive today in new and unanticipated formats.

[1] Joseph Kohen-Zedek, Sefat Emet (London, 1879),
pp. 1-2. 
[2] Joseph Dan, “A Bow to Frumkinian Hasidism,” Modern
Judaism XI (1991), p. 184
[3]  Rosh
Hashana, pp. xiii-xiv.
[4]  Rosh
Hashana, p. xv.
[5]  Rosh
Hashana, p. xvii.
[6]  Rosh
Hashana (Hebrew Introduction), p. vi.
[7] The opinions (pp. [iii]-vi) in English are from M.
Lazarus, M. Jastrow, M. Mielziner, Isaac M. Wise, B. Szold, K. Kohler, B.
Felsenthal, and M. Friedman. They are reprinted in Hebrew, with additional
opinions from B. Landau, S. Morais, and S. Sonneschein.
[8]  Sample
Volume, p. iv.
[9]  Sample
Volume, pp. vii-viii.
[10]  Rosh
Hashana (Hebrew Introduction), p. xiv.
[11]  Tract Rosh
Hashana (New Year) of the New Edition of the Babylonian Talmud
(Philadelphia, 1895), p. xx.
[12] “Bibliographical Sketches of Rabbis and Cantors.  Officiating in the United States,” American
Jewish Year Book (Philadelphia, 1903), p. 75.
[13]  Sample
Volume, Hebrew introduction, p. xix.
[14] Atlantic Coast Jewish Annual (Philadelphia,
February, 1896), pp. 85-110.
[15]  Sample
Volume, Hebrew introduction, p. xiii.
[16] M. Vinchevsky, HaToren 10 (Dec. 1923), p. 59.
[17] Deinard, Zichronot Bat Ami, p. 37. (G.
Kressel, Leksikon of Modern Hebrew Literature 2 (Merhavia, 1967), p.
838), also notes that the translation was performed by others.
[18] Judah D. Eisenstein, Ozar Zikhronotai (New
York, 1929), p. 109.
[19] Oved (Nahum Sokolow), ha-Tzefira (January 22,
1904), no. 20 Friday supplement, p. 97.
[20] Wise’s letter is not reprinted in the second edition
of the New Talmud.
[21]  Shabbat,
pp. xviii-xix.
[22]  Shabbat
p. xxiv.
[23]  History
II, supplements entitled “Endorsements” (pp. 9-11) and “Some Press Comments”
(pp. 12-18).
[24] Abraham Cahan, “Talmudism at the Brooklyn Bridge,” New
York Commercial Advertiser, reprinted in Grandma Never Lived in America.
The New Journalism of Abraham Cahan, Moses Rischin, ed. (Bloomington,
1985), pp. 54-55. Abraham Cahan (1860-1951) was a journalist, editor and
author. He helped found, and was editor from 1902 to his death, of the Jewish
Daily Forward. He also wrote for a number of English language newspapers,
chronicling the Jewish immigrant experience in America and was the author of The
Rise of David Levinsky (New York, 1917), considered an American classic.
[25]  It was noted
above that, “not understanding the English language, Rodkinson employed Jewish
high school students.  He translated the
Talmud into Yiddish for them, and they then translated it into English.”  It is not inconceivable that in some
instances the infelicitous mistranslations, such as “the children of Barak,” were
not Rodkinson’s errors but rather the errors of the high school students, who,
although fluent in Yiddish and English, were likely public school students with
only a rudimentary Jewish education and no Talmudic training.  I would like to thank Mr. Joseph I. Lauer
for bringing this possibility to my attention.
[26] J. D. Eisenstein, Ner Ma’aravi, reprinted as Ma’amre
Bikoret (New York, 1897) and in Ozar Zikhronotai, pp. 285-301.
[27] Eisenstein, Ma’amre Bikoret, p. 20.   
[28] Eisenstein, p. 28. Rodkinson responded in Ner
Ma’aravi (reprinted in the History), as noted above.
[29] American Israelite (May 30, 1895); Chicago
Israelite (June 1, 1895); and Ner Ma’aravi I:6 (New York, 1895), pp.
33-34.
[30] The following anecdote, reported to me by a prominent
southern rabbi, succinctly recapitulates the findings in the negative reviews,
from the perspective of an observant user of the “Rodkinson Talmud.”  This rabbi’s father, a Talmudic scholar,
emigrated to the United States from Warsaw in 1927.  In the early 1930s he was offered a position teaching an evening
Talmud class, with the stipulation that it be in English.  The elderly scholar, solely in order to
polish his English, acquired a Rodkinson Talmud.  His son recalls that “As a small child growing up I remember that
one day I found the Rodkinson in the waste can.”  His father explained that Rodkinson was both “a major kofer”
(disbeliever) and such “a major am haaretz (ignoramus) that he did not
want to have his stuff around the house.”
[31] Joseph S. Bloch (1850-1923), editor of the Oesterreichische
Wochenscrift and member of the Austrian Parliament, distinguished himself
in his defense of Judaism against the charges of the anti-Semite August Rohling
(1839-1931), author of Der Talmudjude (1871) and blood libels.  Bloch was yet another opponent of Rodkinson,
including an entire chapter, entitled “M. L. Rodkinson, the Third in the
League,” pp. 139-51, in his My Reminiscences.
[32] History, I pp. 136-37.
[33] Samuel Malter, The Treatise Ta’anit of the
Babylonian Talmud, Critically Edited on the basis of Manuscripts and Old
Editions and Provided With a Translation and Notes (Philadelphia, 1928), p.
xlvi.
[34] J. H. Hertz, The Babylonian Talmud, Seder Nezikin
(London, 1935), editor I. Epstein, p. xxvii; idem, Sermons Addresses
and Studies by the Chief Rabbi (London, 1938), II p. 97, and III p. 258.
[35] The American Jewish Year Book (Philadelphia,
1904), pp. 341 and 373; and Jewish Literary Annual (London, 1904), pp.
132 and 146.
[36] G. Deutsch, “Report of the Committee on
Contemporaneous History” in Year Book of the Central Conference of American
Rabbis XIV (Baltimore, 1904), p. 142.
[37] Ephraim Deinard, Koheleth America, Catalogue of
Hebrew books printed in America from 1735-1925 II (St. Louis, 1926), p. 138
[Hebrew].
[38] Charles A. Madison, Jewish Publishing in America.
The Impact of Jewish Writing on American Culture (New York, 1976); Rufus
Learsi, The Jews in America: A History (Cleveland and New York), 1954.
[39] Publication of the American Jewish Historical
Society XLIV (Philadelphia, 1955), p. 125.
[40] Meyer Waxman, A History of Jewish Literature
(1941; reprint Cranbury, 1960), IV pp. 710-11.
[41] Encyclopedia Judaica, XIV (Jerusalem, 1972),
col. 218.
[42]  Sefton D.
Temkin, Isaac Mayer Wise, Shaping American Judaism (Oxford, 1992), p.
303;  Jacob Rader Marcus, United
States Jewry 1776-1985, IV (Detroit, 1993), p. 358.  
[43] Mintz, p. 125.


Israel ben Shabtai [Hapstein]. ‘Avodat Yisrael – Book review by Bezalel Naor

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Israel ben Shabtai [Hapstein]. ‘Avodat Yisrael (B’nei Berak: Pe’er mi-Kedoshim, 5773 / 2013). 66, 738 pages. 
Reviewed by Bezalel Naor 
Rabbi Israel ben Shabtai Hapstein, the Maggid of Kozienice (or more commonly, the “Kozhnitser Maggid”) (d. 1814) was a major figure in the third generation of East-European Hasidism founded by Rabbi Israel Ba’al Shem Tov, and specifically, a towering luminary within Polish Hasidism. Like his contemporary Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liozhno (and later Liadi), Rabbi Israel studied under Rabbi Dov Baer, the Maggid of Mezritch (who led the Hasidic movement after the death of the founder, Ba’al Shem Tov). Unlike Rabbi Shneur Zalman, whose school of Hasidism, Habad, continues to this very day, Rabbi Israel founded no school and has no hasidim, no followers to speak of, today. 
The same goes for Rabbi Israel’s book. Whereas Rabbi Shneur Zalman’s most famous work, Tanya, has earned the sobriquet (at least among Habad Hasidim) “the written Torah of Hasidism” (“torah she-biketav shel hasidut”), relatively few have studied Rabbi Israel’s magnum opus, ‘Avodat Yisrael (Service of Israel), a commentary on the Pentateuch. Indicative of neglect in this respect, until today the book has been an example of poor typography. First published in 1842, ‘Avodat Yisrael has been reissued periodically with pitifully broken letters of “Rashi” script (today unfamiliar to Hebrew readers without rabbinic training). About now the cognoscenti will chime in, “Afilu sefer torah she-be-heikhal tsarikh mazal” (“Even a Torah scroll in the ark requires luck”) and “Habent sua fata libelli” (“Books have their fates”). 
Thankfully, this horrendous situation has now been remedied. Enter Pe’er mi-Kedoshim, a publishing concern headed by Rabbi Israel Menachem Alter, son of the present Rebbe of Gur. Pe’er mi-Kedoshim has committed itself to re-issuing the classic texts of Hasidic thought in deluxe, state-of-the-art editions. The Kozhnitser Maggid’s ‘Avodat Yisrael is the premier volume in a series envisioned to include: Degel Mahaneh Efraim by Ba’al Shem Tov’s grandson, Rabbi Moses Hayyim Ephraim of Sudylkow (next on the agenda); No’am Elimelekh by Rabbi Elimelekh of Lizhensk; Zot Zikaron by Rabbi Jacob Isaac Horowitz (the “Seer of Lublin”), et cetera. 
The book displays all the benefits that the modern age of Hebrew printing has brought to the sacred realm. The cursive “Rashi” script has been replaced by the square characters familiar to every Hebrew reader, which have then been provided with vowel points and modern punctuation. Sidebars caption the highlights of the Maggid’s comments. Footnotes reference sources in rabbinic and kabbalistic literature, as well as cross-referencing to parallel passages in the Maggid’s own works. As is customary, the book is preceded by “Toledot” (Biography) of the Author, and followed by “Maftehot” (Indices). (At present these indices are purely topical. It is hoped that in the future there will be included an index of the works cited by the Maggid, which will allow students of his thought a glimpse of his library, and the horizon of his intellectual and spiritual world.) 
Quoting the Psalmist, “Who can understand errors?” (Psalms 19:12), the Editors have encouraged readers to offer constructive criticism, including pointing out errata in the present printing. Let us take them up on their kind offer. 
In Parashat Bereshit, end s.v. vayyasem H’ le-Kayin ‘ot (6a), the Maggid observes “that there are times when miracles are performed by the Other Side, as we find in the Gemara, and in the Midrash, Parashat Toledot, that through Arginiton miracles were performed for Rabbi Judah the Prince and his companions, and the Omnipresent has many emissaries.” Where the Maggid alludes to an unspecified “Gemara,” the Editors have supplied within the text itself, within parentheses, “Me’ilah 17b.” If one consults the text of that passage in the Talmud Bavli, one discovers that it concerns miracles wrought by Ben Temalyon (name of a demon) for Rabbi Shim’on ben Yohai during his mission to Rome. When offered the demon’s help, rather than rebuffing him, Rabbi Shim’on resigned himself to accepting his intervention by saying: “Yavo’ ha-ness mi-kol makom.” (“Let the miracle come from any place.”) This statement of Rabbi Shim’on is similar in tenor to the Maggid’s conclusion: “Harbeh sheluhim la-Makom.” (“The Omnipresent has many emissaries.”) 
Clearly, the Editors have read the text of ‘Avodat Yisrael in a disjointed fashion, interpreting that the “Gemara” and the “Midrash, Parashat Toledot” refer to two different stories. My own reading of the situation is that the “Gemara” and the “Midrash, Parashat Toledot” refer to the identical story whereby Rabbi Judah the Prince and his companions were spared the imperial wrath of Diocletian through the intervention of the demon Arginiton (or in the version of the Yerushalmi, “Antigris”). The “Gemara” of course is not the Gemara Bavlit, but rather the Gemara Yerushalmit, and the reference is to the Talmud Yerushalmi at the end of the eighth chapter of Terumot. I rather like my suggested reading for two reasons. First, we are told in the biographical introduction to the book that Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin attested that the Kozhnitser Maggid was “familiar with Talmud Yerushalmi” (“baki be-Shas Yerushalmi”) (p. 30). Second, in recent years, the Hasidic court of Gur has expended great energy in promoting the study of the hitherto neglected Talmud Yerushalmi, so I believe it especially appropriate that the edition of ’Avodat Yisrael under the guidance of Rabbi Israel Menachem Alter shelit”a offer this alternate solution to deciphering the Maggid’s cryptic reference to “the Gemara.” 
In Parashat Shemot, beginning s.v. ve-sham’u le-kolekha (91a), the Maggid writes that Moses was confronted with a conundrum. On the one hand, he was pressing for some kind of divine assurance that his mission to Egypt be crowned with success and that the Hebrews indeed hearken to his voice. On the other hand, he was concerned that by its very nature a divine guarantee would rob the Hebrews of their free will, forcing them into belief. The assumption is that the Hebrews were redeemed from Egypt in the merit of their faith or emunah. (See Exodus Rabbah, Beshalah [parashah 23] playing on the words “tashuri me-rosh Amanah” [Song of Songs 4:8].) It is a tribute to the originality of the Kozhnitser Maggid that while most Biblical commentators busied themselves with the philosophic problem of God’s hardening the heart of Pharaoh, thereby depriving him of the free will to respond affirmatively to the divine demands, the Maggid explored in the opposite direction the problem of preserving the Hebrews’ free will to disbelieve. The Maggid’s solution to the problem involves some rather esoteric doctrines of Kabbalah, namely “hanhagat gadlut” (“governance of greatness”) versus “hanhagat katnut” (“governance of smallness”), best left for the adept in Jewish mysticism. I would just point out for the record that the Editors missed a cue here. When the Maggid writes “’Ve-hen’ she-hu ahat,” he is clearly referencing the Talmud Bavli, Shabbat 31b: “She-ken bi-leshon yevani korin la-ahat ‘hen’.” (“Hen in Greek is one.”) 
In the section for the festival of Shavu’ot, s.v. u-Moshe ‘alah el ha-Elohim (200a), the Maggid writes: “Since all Israel prepared themselves for the sanctity of the Lord, and a leader is commensurate to his generation, therefore Moses was able to ascend above.” Now the crucial words, the key to understanding this thought, “u-parnas lefi doro” (“and a leader is commensurate to his generation”), have been emended by the Editors to: “kol ehad le-fi koho” (“each according to his ability”). Granted that in the old edition there was some fuzziness concerning these words (“u-parush lefi doro”), but they could still be made out simply by correcting “u-parush lefi doro” to “u-parnas lefi doro,” a well-known Hebrew adage. In the present version, one is at a loss to glean the Maggid’s meaning. (I see now that the wording “kol ehad lefi koho” does occur in the Warsaw 1878 edition of ‘Avodat Yisrael. Unfortunately, the edition I possess is without place or date. Unable to locate a copy of the editio princeps of 1842, I have no way of knowing which version occurs there.) 
In Parashat Mas’ei, end s.v. eleh mas’ei b’nei yisrael (240a), in regard to Tish’ah be-Av, the Maggid discusses the difference between the “batei gava’ei” (“inner chambers”) and the “batei bara’ei” (“outer chambers”), alluded to by the Rabbis in TB, Hagigah 5b. The Maggid’s remarks in this passage are consonant with what he wrote elsewhere in Ner Israel, his commentary to the Likkutim me-Rav Hai Gaon (2a): “In the outer chambers there is sadness and mourning, but for one who is able to ascend to the inner chambers, to the will of the Creator, blessed be He, certainly there is happiness.” (By the way, the kabbalists’ reading of the passage in Hagigah, while opposite Rashi’s, coincides with the version of Rabbenu Hananel. See Rabbi Solomon Elyashev, Hakdamot u-She’arim [Piotrkow, 1909], sha’ar 6, chap. 6, “avnei milu’im” [24b-27b].) 
In Parashat Devarim, end s.v. eleh ha-devarim (246a) there is a quote from Rabbi Isaac Luria’s commentary to the Idra Zuta. The Maggid supplies the exact page number: folio 120. The problem is that the passage does not occur there. The Editors have left the reference in the text untouched. At least in a footnote we should be told that the quote may be found in Rabbi Jacob Zemah, Kol ba-Ramah (Korets, 1785), 122a. (I am indebted to my dear friend Prof. Menachem Kallus for the correct address.) See also Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Sefer ha-Derushim (Jerusalem, 5756 /1996), 214 (left column); and Rabbi Shalom Buzaglo, Hadrat Melekh, 139a. 
In the section for Tu be-Av, s.v. meyuhasot she-bahen (256b-257a), the Maggid writes that there are times that ki-ve-yakhol (as it were), God so delights in Israel that He becomes as a young man (bahur). The Maggid writes that he has dealt with this in his commentary to the line in Avot (beginning Chap. 6), “Barukh she-bahar bahem u-be-mishnatam.” As the Editors point out, the comment is not to be found in the Maggid’s remarks on Avot. Instead, they refer us to a parallel passage in Re’eh, s.v. ve-hineh ha-Midrash (270a). By the same token, they might have referred us to Ner Israel (commentary to Likkutim me-Rav Hai Gaon), 4b: “Ve-nikra bahur ka-arazim…” 
In the section for Rosh ha-Shanah, there is a lengthy kabbalistic homily, the thrust of which is that on that day we ask the Holy One, blessed be He, to reinvest himself in the particular role of “Elohei Yisrael” (“God of Israel”). “The God of these [Jews] is asleep.” Which is to say, [the nations] were not foolish enough to assert that the Sibat Kol ha-Sibbot (Cause of All Causes) is in a state of slumber, only “the God of these [Jews],” in other words, this particular hanhagah (governance) referred to as “Elohei Yisrael” (the God of Israel) is in a state of sleep…and unconsciousness, and there is but “Elaha de-Elahaya” (the God of Gods). Based on this, you will understand the kavvanot (mystical meditations) of Rabbi Isaac Luria for Rosh Hashanah. We awaken Him with the shofar (ram’s horn). (‘Avodat Yisrael, 290b) The Editors duly noted the reference to Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Peri ‘Ets Hayyim, Sha’ar ha-Shofar, chap. 1. But what they should have noted is the following reference which would have been even more instructive: “Now in the days of Mordecai was the mystery of the time of dormita of Zeir Anpin, and the mystery that Haman said ‘There is (yeshno) one people spread and separated among the peoples’ [Esther 3:8]. The Rabbis, of blessed memory, commented on the word ‘yeshno,’ that Haman alleged ‘their God is asleep.’” (Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Sha’ar ha-Purim, beginning chap. 5) The Holy Maggid loaded the kavvanot of Purim on to the kavvanot of Rosh Ha-Shanah! 
The Kozhnitser Maggid was a preeminent halakhist (specializing in heter ‘agunot, permitting wives of missing husbands to remarry), kabbalist, thinker (penning commentaries to the works of Maharal of Prague), and statesman. With all that, the following anecdote sent a shiver down my spine: The Kozhnitser Maggid was on friendly terms with several prominent members of the Polish nobility. In the eighteenth century, Poland, dismembered and subjected to a tripartite division—whereby Prussia annexed the western portion of Poland; Austro-Hungary annexed Galicia in the south; and Russia annexed the east—simply ceased to exist. A certain Polish nobleman importuned the Maggid to intercede with Heaven on behalf of the Polish nation. The gentleman would not leave the Maggid’s home until promised Polish independence. Finally, the Maggid foretold that at a time in the future Poland would once again be a sovereign nation—for a span of “three shemitin” (three sabbatical cycles or 21 years). When the Jews of Warsaw were being subjected to aerial bombardment by the Luftwaffe in September of 1939, they recalled the Maggid’s prediction. In the aftermath of World War I, in 1918 to be precise, Poland once again declared its independence. Three shemitin had passed from 1918 until 1939. Warsaw capitulated to the Nazis on the eve of Sukkot, the yahrzeit of the Kozhnitser Maggid! This anecdote was told by a witness to Warsaw’s destruction, Rabbi Joseph Friedenson, editor of Dos Yiddishe Vort, the Yiddish magazine of Agudath Israel of America (“Toledot,” p. 37).


Identifying Achashverosh and Esther in Secular Sources

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Identifying Achashverosh and Esther in Secular Sources 
By Mitchell First 

This article is a summary of a longer article which will appear in his forthcoming book Esther Unmasked: Solving Eleven Mysteries of the Jewish Holidays and Liturgy (Kodesh Press), pp. 129-167.

     In this article, we will explain how scholars were finally able to identify Achashverosh in secular sources. We will also show that Esther can be identified in secular sources as well. Finally, we will utilize these sources to shed light on the story of the Megillah.Before we get to these sources, we have to point out that an important clue to the identity of Achashverosh is found in the book of Ezra.
Achashverosh is mentioned at Ezra 4:6 in the context of other Persian kings. The simplest understanding of Ezra 4:6 and its surrounding verses is that Achashverosh is the Persian king who reigned after the Daryavesh who rebuilt the Temple,[1] but before Artachshasta. But what about the secular sources? Was there any Persian king known as Achashverosh or something close to that in these sources?

     Until the 19th century, a search in secular sources for a Persian king named Achashverosh or something close to that would have been an unsuccessful one. Our knowledge of the Persian kings from the Biblical period was coming entirely from the writings of Greek historians, and none of the names that they recorded were close to Achashverosh. The Greek historians (Herodotus, mid-5th cent. BCE, and the others who came after him) described the following Persian kings from the Biblical period: Cyrus, Cambyses, Darius, Xerxes, and Artaxerxes.
    We were thus left to speculate as to the identity of Achashverosh. Was he to be equated with Artaxerxes? This was the position taken by the Septuagint to Esther. Was he to be equated with Cambyses? Or was he, as Ezra 4:6 and its surrounding verses implied, the king between Daryavesh (=Darius I) and Artachshasta (=Artaxerxes I). But why did the Greeks refer to him as Xerxes, a name at first glance seeming to have no relation to the name Achashverosh?
    It was only in the 19th century, as a result of the decipherment of Old Persian cuneiform inscriptions from the ancient Persian palaces, that we were able to answer these questions. It was discovered that the name of the king that the Greeks had been referring to as “Xerxes” was in fact: “Khshayarsha” (written in Old Persian cuneiform). This name is very close to the Hebrew “Achashverosh.” In their consonantal structure, the two names are identical. Both center on the consonantal sounds “ch”, “sh”, “r”, and “sh.” The Hebrew added an initial aleph[2] (a frequent occurrence when foreign words with two initial consonants are recorded in Hebrew), and added two vavs. Interestingly, the Megillah spells Achashverosh several times with only one vav, and one time (10:1) spells the name with no vavs.
     Thereafter, at the beginning of the 20th century, Aramaic documents from Egypt from the 5th century B.C.E. came to light. In these documents, this king’s name was spelled in Aramaic as חשירש, חשיארש and אחשירש. The closeness to the Hebrew אחשורוש is easily seen.
     How did Khshayarsha (consonants: KH, SH, R, SH) come to be referred to by the Greeks as Xerxes?
  • The Greek language does not have a letter to represent the “sh” sound.
  • The initial “KH SH” sounds of the Persian name were collapsed into one Greek letter that makes the “KS” sound. A tendency to parallelism probably led to the second “SH” also becoming “KS,” even though “S” would have been more appropriate.[3] Hence, the consonants became KS, R, KS (=X,R,X).
  • The “es” at the end was just something added by the Greeks to help turn the foreign name into proper Greek grammatical form.[4]
    (It was for this same reason that the Hebrew משה  became “Moses” when the Bible was translated into Greek.)

 

  Identifying Khshayarsha/Xerxes with Achashverosh thus makes much sense on linguistic grounds. Critically, it is consistent with Ezra 4:6 which had implied that Achashverosh was the king between Daryavesh (=Darius I) and Artachshasta (=Artaxerxes I).[5]
    We have an inscription from Khshayarsha in Persian which lists the countries over which he ruled. Among the countries listed are “Hidush” and “Kushiya,” most likely the Hodu and Kush of the Megillah.[6]
    Now that we have identified Achashverosh in secular sources, we can use these sources to provide some biographical information. Xerxes reigned from 486-465 BCE, when the Temple was already rebuilt. It was rebuilt in the reign of his father Darius I in 516 BCE. According to Herodotus, Xerxes was the son of Darius by Atossa, daughter of Cyrus. Xerxes was also the first son born to Darius after Darius became king. These factors distinguished him from his older half-brother Artabazanes, and merited Xerxes being chosen to succeed Darius. At his accession in 486 BCE, Xerxes could not have been more than 36 years old (since he was born after the accession of Darius in 522 BCE).
    The party in which Vashti rebelled took place in the third year of the reign of Achashverosh (1:3), and Esther was not chosen until the 7th year (2:16). Why did it take Achashverosh so long to choose a replacement? It has been suggested that Xerxes was distracted by his foreign policy. In the early years of his reign, Xerxes ordered a full-scale invasion of Greece. Xerxes went on the invasion himself, which took him out of Persia commencing in the spring or summer of his 5th year and continuing through part of his 7th year.[7] This invasion ended in defeat.
     From the secular sources and a solar eclipse that took place in the battles, it can be calculated that Xerxes did not return to Susa until
the fall of 479 B.C.E.[8] Tevet of Achashverosh’s 7th year, when Esther was chosen, would have been Dec. 479/Jan. 478 B.C.E. Accordingly, Esther was taken to the palace shortly after Xerxes’ return.
    Do we have any evidence in secular sources for the main plot of the Purim story, the threat to destroy the Jews in the 12th year (3:7)? We do not, but this is to be expected. No works from any Persian historians from this period have survived. (Probably, no such works were ever composed.) Our main source for the events of the reign of Xerxes is Herodotus and his narrative ends in the 7th year of Xerxes.[9]
    Interestingly, there is perhaps a reference to Mordechai in a later narrative source. The Greek historian Ctesias,[10] who served as a physician to Artaxerxes II, mentions a “Matacas” who was the most influential of all of Xerxes’ eunuchs. (Probably, “eunuch” was merely a
term used to indicate a holder of a high position in the king’s court.) “Matacas” suggests a Persian name with the consonants MTC, which would be very close to the consonants of the name Mordechai, MRDC.[11]  The information provided by Ctesias bears a significant resemblance to the last verse in the Megillah, which records that by the end of the story, Mordechai was mishneh (=second) to the king.[12]
(Perhaps we do not have to take mishneh literally; the import may merely be “very high official.”)
    Most interesting is what happens when we analyze the secular sources regarding the wife of Xerxes. According to Herodotus, the wife of Xerxes was named Amestris, and she was the daughter of a military commander named Otanes. (In the Megillah, Esther is described as the daughter of Avichail.) Ctesias records that Amestris outlived Xerxes. Moreover, in the further details that Ctesias provides, Amestris is involved in royal affairs even in the reign of her son Artaxerxes.[13] Neither Herodotus nor Ctesias use a term like “queen” for her, but their description of Amestris fits what we would call today the “queen.” Neither gives any indication that Xerxes had any other wife.
    Some postulate that Amestris is Vashti. But this is extremely unlikely since there is nothing in Herodotus or Ctesias to indicate any loss of
status by Amestris. Others postulate (based on verses such as Est. 2:19 and 4:11[14]) that Esther was never the main   wife of Xerxes, but was one of other wives of a lesser status. See, e.g., Chamesh Megillot, Daat Mikra edition (published by Mossad Harav Kook), introduction to Esther, p. 6. The problem with this approach is that the clear impression that one receives from the Megillah is that Esther was the Persian wife of the highest status from the time she was chosen in the 7th year of the reign of Achashverosh through the balance of the years described in the book. See, e.g., verse 2:17 (va-yasem keter malkhut be-roshah va-yamlikheha tachat Vashti).
    The approach that seems to have the least difficulties is to postulate that Amestris is  Esther and that Herodotus simply erred regarding her ancestry. Although Herodotus traveled widely in the 460’s and 450’s B.C.E., he probably never set foot in Persia. His information about Persia is based on what was told to him orally. Every scholar knows that he could not possibly be correct on a large percentage of the details he reports (whether about Persia or any matter). Also, the impression that one receives from the Megillah is that Esther did not disclose her true ancestry for several years. Whatever rumors about her ancestry first came out may be what made their way to Herodotus.[15]
    It is striking that the name Avichayil means military commander.[16] It is not so farfetched to suggest that Avichayil might have had another name which resembled the name Otanes.  The Megillah tells us that Esther had another name, Hadassah.
   Herodotus tells a story depicting the cruelty of Amestris. Amestris takes revenge on another woman by cutting off her body parts and throwing them to the dogs. Ctesias writes that Amestris ordered someone impaled, and had fifty Greeks decapitated. But scholars today know not to believe all the tales told by the Greek historians about their enemies, the Persians. (Herodotus, known as the “Father of History,” is also known as the “Father of Lies.” The reputation of Ctesias as a historian is far worse; he is widely viewed as freely mixing fact and fiction.)
    Although he never says it explicitly, one gets the impression from Herodotus that he believed that Amestris was the wife of Xerxes even in the first seven years of Xerxes’ reign. But it would be understandable that Herodotus might have had such a belief. According to the Megillah, Vashti was gone by the third year of Xerxes. Xerxes reigned 18 years after that. To Herodotus and his informants, Vashti may have been long forgotten.
    We have no Persian sources for the name of the wife of Khshayarsha. But close examination of the name “Amestris” supports its identification with Esther. The “is” at the end was just a suffix added to turn the foreign name into proper Greek grammatical form (just as “es” was added at the end of “Xerxes”). When comparing the remaining consonants, the name of the wife of Xerxes is recorded in the Greek historians as based around the consonants M, S, T, and R, and the name as recorded in the Megillah is based around the consonants S, T, and R. Out of the numerous possible consonants in these languages, three consonants are the same and in the same order! Probability suggests that this is not coincidence and that the two are the same person. Probably her Persian name was composed of the consonants M, S, T, and R, and the M was not preserved in the Hebrew. (One source in Orthodoxy that has suggested the identification of Esther with Amestris, without any discussion, is Trei Asar, Daat Mikra edition, published by Mossad Harav Kook, vol. 2, appendix, p. 3.)

—-   
    Once we realize that Achashverosh is Xerxes, it becomes evident that the asher haglah  of Esther 2:6 cannot be referring to Mordechai. King Yechanyah was exiled in 597 B.C.E. If Mordechai was old enough to have been exiled with King Yechanyah, he would have been over 120 years old when appointed to a high position in the 12th year of Xerxes. Moreover, Esther, his first cousin, would not have been young enough to have been chosen queen a few years earlier. One alternative is to understand verse 2:6 as referring to Mordechai’s great-grandfather Kish.[17] Another alternative is to view the subject of 2:6 as Mordechai, but to read the verse as implying only that Mordechai came from a family that had been exiled.
                                                                     —-
   The identification of Achashverosh with Xerxes does not fit with the view of the Talmud. According to the Talmud (Megillah 11b, based on Seder Olam chap. 29), Achashverosh reigned between Koresh and Daryavesh. In this view, the Temple had not yet been rebuilt at the time of the events of the Megillah. (In the view of Seder Olam and the Talmud, the Persian period spanned the reigns of only three Persian kings. This is much shorter than the conventional chronology. The conventional chronology is set forth in the Table below. For more information about this discrepancy, see my Jewish History in Conflict: A Study of the Major Discrepancy Between Rabbinic and Chronology, Jason Aronson, 1997).
    That the king intended to be depicted in the Megillah was Khshayarsha/Xerxes is accepted by legions of scholars today, even if they question the historicity of the story. Within Orthodoxy, some sources that accept the identification of Achashverosh with Xerxes include: Chamesh Megillot (Daat Mikra edition), R. Isaac Halevy,[18] R. Shelomoh Danziger,[19] R. Avigdor Miller,[20] R. Adin Steinsaltz,[21] R. Yoel Bin-Nun,[22]  R. Yehuda Landy,[23] and R. Menachem Liebtag.[24]
    The Megillah (10:2) implied that we could search outside the Bible for additional information regarding Achashverosh. I trust that this
search has proven an interesting one!
                                                             ——
     Table: The
main Persian kings from this era and their dates (B.C.E.):
Cyrus              539-530
Cambyses [25]   530-522
Darius I         522-486
Xerxes           486-465
Artaxerxes I  465-424[26]
Darius II        423-404
Artaxerxes II 404-358
Artaxerxes III 358-338
Arses             338-336
Darius III      336-332
Mitchell First works as an attorney in Manhattan and lives in New Jersey, and is available to lecture on this topic. He can be reached at MFirstatty@aol.com
[1]
Admittedly, this is an oversimplification, since the Daryavesh who rebuilt the
Temple is mentioned both at Ezra 4:5 and at Ezra 4:24.  See further below, n. 5.
[2]
Both the Elamite and the Akkadian versions of the name Khshayarsha also had an
initial vowel. In Elamite,“i”, and in Akkadian, “a”. See Edwin M. Yamauchi, Persia
and the Bible (1990), p. 187.
The name of the king is found in Aramaic in
the panels of the Dura-Europos synagogue (3rd century C.E., Syria)
without the initial aleph.
[3]
That the transmission of foreign names is by no means an exact science is shown
by how the name of  the son of Xerxes
was recorded by the Greeks. The Greeks preserved the “Arta” of the first part
of his name, Artakhshaça, but then just tacked on “xerxes,” the name of his
father, as the second part of his name!
[4]
I.e., convert it into the nominative case.
[5] With regard to verse 4:24, the proper understanding of
this verse is as follows. The author of the book of Ezra decided to digress,
and to supplement the reference to accusations made against the Jews in the
reigns of Koresh through Daryavesh with mention of further accusations against
them in the reigns of the subsequent kings, Achashverosh (Xerxes) and
Artachshasta (Artaxerxes I). Verse 4:24 then returns to the main narrative, the
reign of Daryavesh. The role played by verse 4:24 is that of “resumptive
repetition.” This is the interpretation adopted by the Daat Mikra
commentary to Ezra (pp. 27 and 35) and by many modern scholars. See the
references at Richard Steiner, “Bishlam’s Archival Search Report in Nehemiah’s
Archive: Multiple Introductions and Reverse Chronological Order as Clues to the
Origin of the Aramaic Letters in Ezra 4-6,” Journal of Biblical Literature
125 (2006), p. 674, n. 164. This understanding of verse 24 only became evident
in modern times when it was realized that linguistically Achashverosh was to be
identified with Xerxes.
[6]
Roland G. Kent, Old Persian: Grammar, Texts, Lexicon, p. 151 (2d ed.,
1953).
[7]
Many find allusions in the Megillah to the preparation for the invasion and to
the invasion. See, e.g., Esther 1:3 and 10:2.
[8]
See, e.g., William H. Shea, “Esther and History,” Andrews University
Seminary Studies 14 (1976), p. 239. In the Persian system of regnal reckoning,
485 BCE was considered year 1 of Xerxes. 486 B.C.E. was only the accession
year.
[9]
See Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander (2002), pp. 7 and 516. In his
narrative of events up to the 7th year, Herodotus does make some
tangential references to events after the 7th year. For example, he
refers to Artaxerxes a few times, and he tells a story about something that
Amestris did in her later years. (She had fourteen children of noble Persians
buried alive, as a gift on her behalf to the god of the underworld.) Later ancient sources write about the
assassination of Xerxes.
[10] The Persica of Ctesias only survives in quotations or summaries by others. For this
particular section of Ctesias, what has survived is a summary by Photius (9th cent.)
[11]
Another version of Photius reads “Natacas” here. But this difference is not so significant.
“N” and “M” are related consonants, both being nasal stops; it is not uncommon
for one to transform into the other.
[12]
See also Est. 9:4.
[13]
This means that Artaxerxes I (who empowered Ezra, and later Nechemiah) was
technically Jewish!
[14]
Est. 2:19 refers to a second gathering of maidens, after Esther was
chosen. Est. 4:11 records that Esther had not been called to the king for 30
days.
[15]
It is sometimes claimed that Esther could not have been the wife of Xerxes
because Herodotus (3,84) tells of an agreement between Darius I and his six
co-conspirators that the Persian king would not marry outside their families.
One of the co-conspirators was named Otanes. But Herodotus nowhere states that
the Otanes who was the father of Amestris was the co-conspirator Otanes. Briant
writes that if Amestris had been the daughter of co-conspirator Otanes,
Herodotus would doubtless have pointed this out. See Briant, p. 135. Therefore,
implicit in Herodotus is that Xerxes married outside the seven families.
[16]
I would like to thank Rabbi Richard Wolpoe who first made this observation to me.
[17]
That the name Mordechai may be based on the name of the Babylonian deity Marduk
also suggests that Mordechai was born in exile.
[18]
Dorot ha-Rishonim: Tekufat ha-Mikra (1939), p. 262.
[19]
“Who Was the Real Akhashverosh?,” Jewish Observer, Feb. 1973, pp. 12-15.
[20]
Torah Nation (1971), pp. 40 and 42.
[21]
Talmud Bavli, Taanit-Megillah, p. 47, ha-Hayyim, and p. 50, ha-Hayyim.    .
[22]
Hadassah Hi Esther (1997), p. 49, n. 8. (This work is a collection of
articles by various authors.)
[23] Purim
and the Persian Empire (2010), pp. 40-42.
[24]
For additional sources in Orthodoxy that accept the identification of
Achashverosh with Xerxes, see Jewish History in Conflict, pp. 178-79.
[25]
Cambyses’ name was discovered to be “Kabujiya” in Persian. His name is recorded
as כנבוזי in Aramaic documents from Egypt from the 5th
cent. B.C.E. He did not reign enough years to be Achashverosh. Nor did he reign
over Hodu. See Jewish History in Conflict, p. 167. Although he is not
mentioned in Tanakh, his reign is alluded to at Ezra 4:5 (in the word ve-ad).
[26]
Another king named Xerxes reigned 45 days after the death of his father
Artaxerxes I.