Legacy Judaica
is holding an auction on June 13, 2017, and we wanted to highlight a few items
of interest (for our previous post regarding the auction house and previous
auctions see here.  There are, of course, some old and rare books
from the 16th and early 17th centuries (lots 1-7), and over
forty manuscripts and a number of letters from rabbinical luminaries, R. Yosef
Dov Solovetchik (Beis ha’Levi) (lot 198), R. Yitzhak Ze’ev Solovetchik (Brisker
Rav) (lot 199), R. Hayim Ozer (lot 172), R. Kook (lot 183), R. Henkin, R.
Yechiel Michel Epstein (Arukh ha-Shulkhan) (lot 168), and the Netziv (lots
161-62), (there is also an amulet (lot 163) from his son, R. Chaim Berlin, that
apparently was written at the Netziv’s direction).

Two
particularly important manuscripts relate to the late 18th century
controversy regarding the nascent Chassidic movement.  One, lot 84, is a copy of the 1796 letter
condemning Chassidim that is signed by the Gaon, among others (this is a transcript
of the letter and does not contain the Gaon’s actual signature).  The second, lot 85, is contains two virulent
letters against Chassidim, both of which have been shown to be forgeries.  The first is written in the name of R. Akiva
Eiger, and the second is attributed to R. Yoel of Amtzislav.  Wilensky analyzed both and concluded that
they are forged.  The document also
includes the (real) transcript of the proclamations of the Bet Din of Shklov
against the Chassidim. Unrelated to the forgery, the various condemnations against
the early Chassidim were the subject of a recent controversy when many of them were
reprinted in a three volume history of the Vilna Gaon, Ha’Gaon.  The book was burnt (with hametz) and subject
to bans, one by the Bedatz Bet Din (see our earlier posts here, here, and  here).

Other items
include, R. Aaron Shmuel Koidonover, Birkat ha’Zev’ah, Amsterdam, 1669
(lot 12).  That book contains a number of
bibliographical items of note. The title page indicates that the book was
printed by two different publishers, the first abandoned because of poor
workmanship. But the identity of the sloppy printer is not provided.  This led to complaints by one of the (then) two
Amsterdam publishers, Uri Phoebus.  He
alleged that many were wrongly assuming him to be the offending publisher.  To address Phoebus, in some number of copies
a page was added that identified the culprit as Joseph Athias, the other
Amsterdam publisher.  There was little
love lost between Athias and Phoebus, and ten years later they famously clashed
over competing luxury editions of Yiddish translations of the Bible.

The title page
of the book itself is elaborately illustrated, and depicts at the top, King
David surrounded by two cherubs, and on the sides of the page, four biblical
scenes with corresponding verses relating to various events in David’s
life.  A similar title page, although
significantly more controversial appears in the Amsterdam 1706, book, Hemdat
Tzvi.  In that instance, however, the
illustrations were used to broadcast the author, Tzvi Hirsch Chotsh’s affinity
for Shabbatai Tzvi (see Bezalel Naor, Post-Sabbatian Sabbatianism,
80-82).

A book related
to Shabbatai Tzvi appears in lot 16, R. Shmuel Aboab’s D’var Sh’mu’el,
Venice 1702.  This copy contains the
section, Zikharon L’veni Yisra’el, that provides two documents regarding
the Shabbatai Tzvi episode.  Many copies
of this edition lack this section. 

The book, Zeh
Sefer Shevach v’Zimra, (lot 124) relates to the Napoleonic wars. This book,
printed in 1796, relates that when Fasano, Italy (it is located in the heel of
the boot), was under siege by Napoleon, the Jews were charged as spies on his
behalf.  The Jews holed up in the
synagogue and a mob formed outside.  When
all seemed lost, a French cannon went off and the mob was scared off, saving the
Jews.  This book contains the story and a
poem written in commemoration of the event that was to be said yearly.  Napoleon was a mixed bag for the Jews.  Many welcomed him and saw him as an opportunity
to improve the lives of the Jews (some even considered him a messianic
figure).  R. Shneur-Zalmen of Lyadi, the
founder of the Habad movement, was famously against Napoleon, and explained
that “if Bonaparte wins, the wealth of the Jews will be increased and their
status raised, but they will be distanced in their hearts from their father in
heaven.”  On the other hand – and R.
Shneur-Zalman was writing in the Russian Empire – “if Tsar Alexander wins,
poverty will increase among the Jews, their status will be lower, but they will
be bound and tied in their hearts to their father in heaven.”  

For further
information and for online bidding see http://legacyjudaica.bidspirit.com

Translations of
Rabbi Judah Halevi’s Kuzari

by Daniel J. Lasker

On the occasion
of the publication of:

ספר הכוזרי. הוא ספר הטענה והראָיה לדת
המושפלת לרבי יהודה הלוי

תרגם מערבית-יהודית לעברית בת זמננו

מיכאל שוַרץ

הוצאת הספרים של אוניברסיטת בן-גוריון
בנגב, באר-שבע, תשע”ז

R. Judah Halevi,
The Book of Kuzari. The Book of Rejoinder and Proof of the Despised Religion,
translated by Michael Schwarz

Beer Sheva, 2017

The
publication of Prof. Michael Schwarz z”l’s new modern Hebrew translation of
Rabbi Judah Halevi’s Judaeo-Arabic Book of Kuzari provides a good
opportunity to discuss previous versions of this seminal book of Jewish thought
and to evaluate the advantages that Prof. Schwarz’s translation has over other
renditions. Prof. Schwarz (1929-2011), who completed a draft translation before
he died over five years ago, was a scholar of Jewish and Islamic philosophy
whose best-known publication has been his translation of Maimonides’ Guide
of the Perplexed. After an unfortunate delay, the Kuzari has now been
published by the International Goldstein-Goren Center for Jewish Thought at
Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, in its series “Library of Jewish Thought,”
under the editorship of Prof. Haim Kreisel.[1]

Less
than thirty years after R. Judah ben Samuel Halevi completed his Book of
Kuzari[2] in approximately
1140, it became one of the first Judaeo-Arabic compositions to be translated
into Hebrew. This pioneering translation marked part of the cultural transfer
of Andalusian Jewish culture, written in Judaeo-Arabic, into Hebrew, and was accomplished
in 1167 by R. Judah ben Saul Ibn Tibbon, “the father of the translators.” As
the centers of Jewish intellectual life moved to Christian areas where Hebrew
was the predominant Jewish literary language, it was only through this
translation that the Kuzari was known to generations upon generations of
Jews. The Kuzari’s readers were moved by its unwavering defense of
Judaism, its description of Jewish singular chosenness, and its love of Zion.
Halevi’s life story, including his departure from Iberia and, according to
legend, his martyrdom at the gates of Jerusalem, only strengthened the
resonance of the book (on this legend, see here). Extensive commentaries were written on the basis of the
Ibn Tibbon translation by authors who neither understand Arabic nor were able
to appreciate the Islamic context in which the Kuzari was written. Judah
Halevi’s defense of Judaism made a great impact on Jewish thought and achieved
canonical status.[3]

With
the birth of Jewish studies in the nineteenth century, scholars began
publishing original texts in academic editions. Thus, Hartwig Hirschfeld
(1854-1934), working with Oxford-Bodleian Ms. Pococke 284, the only complete,
or almost complete, version of the work, produced a first edition of the
original Judaeo-Arabic text of the Kuzari.[4] He published with it a
version of the Ibn Tibbon translation which was partially corrected to
correspond to the Judaeo-Arabic version, but not in a consistent manner. Thus,
Hirschfeld changed some passages in the Hebrew despite their being attested in
all the Ibn Tibbon manuscripts and editions, but left other problematic
passages untouched.[5] The Hirschfeld Ibn Tibbon text achieved wide
distribution when it was used by Avraham Zifroni as the basis of his edition of
the Kuzari, and many contemporary editions of the Hebrew Kuzari
are based on Zifroni’s work.[6] Meanwhile, Hirschfeld’s Judaeo-Arabic publication
has been supplanted by the superior edition of David Zvi Baneth and Haggai
Ben-Shammai.[7]

The
Judah Ibn Tibbon translation of the Kuzari is an adequate translation, despite
some misunderstandings. It follows the Tibbonide practice of maintaining the
syntax and word order of the original Arabic to the extent possible and often
translating the same underlying Arabic term with one Hebrew equivalent. It may also
be a better witness to the original text of the Kuzari than the unique Judaeo-Arabic
manuscript which was copied in Damascus over 300 years after the composition of
the original book. For professional students of medieval Jewish philosophy, or
those with close familiarity with medieval Hebrew, it is readable and achieves
its goal of making the work accessible to non-Arabic readers. Yet, there is
still no acceptable edition based on the best manuscripts of this translation.
In addition, as a means of communicating the extent of Judah Halevi’s thought
to the contemporary reader of modern Hebrew, it is less than ideal. Thus, since
the 1970’s, a number of new Hebrew translations of the Kuzari have
appeared.

The
first of these translations was presented by Dr. Yehudah Even Shmuel (1886-1976)
in 1973.[8] The first edition included a long introduction, a vocalized and
punctuated text, short notes and many extensive indices, and was praised for
the clarity of its Hebrew and its accessibility to contemporary readers.
Subsequently it was published in paperback with just the text and short notes,
an edition which has sold well and is used as a textbook for high schools and
universities. At first, the novelty of a medieval philosophical work in
readable modern Hebrew seems to have compensated for the imprecision of the
translation.[9] Oftentimes, the translator offered more of a creative
paraphrase than an exact translation, and there were sections where Even Shmuel
attempted to tone down considerably Judah Halevi’s view of Jewish essentialism.[10]
Many key terms were translated by different Hebrew words, making it impossible
for the reader to note the importance of these words, most of which have
resonances from the Islamic and Arabic realms. Thus, Halevi’s great debt to his
non-Jewish cultural context was effectively hidden by this translation.
Scholars soon realized that this edition of the Kuzari could not be used
for academic purposes.

Despite
its drawbacks, or perhaps because of its advantages, the Even Shmuel
translation went unchallenged for over 20 years. In the mid-1990’s, I heard
Rabbi Yosef Kafiḥ (1917-2000), the well-known editor and translator of
Judaeo-Arabic texts, reply to a question as to why he did not translate the Kuzari
as he had translated so many other classics. He responded that he had prepared
such a translation many years previously but had decided not to publish it
because he did not want to appear as competing with Even Shmuel. Nonetheless, Kafiḥ
finally did publish his own translation in 1997,[11] following his custom of
presenting the original Judaeo-Arabic and the Hebrew translation in parallel
columns.[12] This translation has neither the clarity nor the extensive
notation of Kafiḥ’s earlier translations; most of his comments are devoted to
attacking Even Shmuel’s translation. In his introduction, Kafiḥ explains that
he had begun translating the Kuzari when he was a student in a class led
by Rabbi David Cohen (the Nazir, 1887-1972) at Merkaz Harav Yeshiva in 1947-48,
where he was made responsible for comparing Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew with the
Judaeo-Arabic in the Hirschfeld edition.[13] Repeating what he had said in
public, namely that he had waited so long to publish this translation because
of his desire not to appear as a competitor with Even Shmuel, he then goes on
to attack Even Shmuel’s translation mercilessly. He even states that Rabbi
Judah Halevi composed one of his dirges when he realized that his Kuzari
would be translated by Even Shmuel.

Despite
Rabbi Kafiḥ’s great erudition in Judaeo-Arabic, and the general readability of
his other translations, the Kuzari does not match his previous work.
Whether this was a result of the fact that the translation was, indeed, a
product of his youth before he had perfected his Hebrew style, or was the work
of an aged man who did not review his earlier drafts, it did not succeed in replacing
the Even Shmuel translation as the generally accepted Hebrew version of the Kuzari.
My own experience with Israeli students has been that Kafiḥ’s Hebrew is not
much more understandable than that of Judah Ibn Tibbon, and, despite the
convenience of having the original Judaeo-Arabic text available, it was not a
very good pedagogical tool. Sometimes I preferred using the Ibn Tibbon text
which is available in a number of formats, such as in Yediot Aharonot’s Am
ha-sefer project[14] and on-line.

There
exists one more contemporary translation of the Kuzari into Hebrew and
that is the one produced by Rabbi Itzhak Shailat (b. 1946).[15] Shailat is
known for his editions and translations of medieval Judaeo-Arabic texts, such
as Maimonides’ Epistles. Although Shailat’s introduction and notes to
his editions demonstrate a conservative, harmonistic and pietistic approach to
his authors, his translations are generally accurate. His methodology, however,
is to reproduce Tibbonide Hebrew as much as possible, giving his translations a
classical, rather than modern, feel. Hence, his Kuzari should be seen as
an update of Ibn Tibbon rather than as an independent creation.

Before
discussing the new Hebrew translation, it might be useful to refer to
translations into other languages. In addition to editing the Judaeo-Arabic
text of the Kuzari, and producing an edition of Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew
translation, Hartwig Hirschfeld also translated the book into English.[16] This
work was reissued many times, often with minimal attribution to Hirschfeld.[17]
The abridged translation of the Kuzari by Prof. Isaac Heinemann
(1876-1957) which appeared independently in Oxford, 1947, and was later
incorporated in the widely distributed Three Jewish Philosophers,[18] is
greatly dependent upon Hirschfeld. In addition to questions of accuracy, the
language of these translations is difficult for the contemporary English
reader.

In
an attempt to present a clearly written English version of the Kuzari
which could be used by laypeople, Rabbi N. Daniel Korobkin (b. 1964) published
a translation on the basis of the Ibn Tibbon version, relying on the
interpretations of the classical commentators Judah Moscatto and Israel of
Zamosc.[19] Although achieving its goal of readability, the author’s ignorance
of Arabic and the scholarly literature on the Kuzari are the cause of
multiple errors of translation and annotation. Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew translation
of the Kuzari is included in the book, but since it is based on the
Hirschfeld/Zifroni edition (the exact source is not noted in the book), and the
English translation is based on older editions, there are inconsistencies
between the Hebrew and the English. Subsequent to the Korobkin translation, other
English editions of the Kuzari have appeared, but apparently none of them
is based on the Judaeo-Arabic original.[20]

A
scholarly, readable English translation of the Kuzari from the original
has long been a desideratum. In fact, Prof. Lawrence V. Berman (1929-1988)
began the work on such a translation before his untimely death. The project was
inherited by Prof. Barry S. Kogan (b. 1944) and is scheduled to appear as part
of the Yale Judaica Series. This project has been long delayed, but Prof. Kogan
has been very generous with sharing drafts of this translation with colleagues,
a number of whom have used its clear and accurate renditions in their own
publications. One can only hope that there will not be much further delay until
the translation appears in print.[21]

This
leads us to the recently published Hebrew translation of the Kuzari by
Prof. Michael Schwarz. Following the pattern established in his translation of
Maimonides’ Guide, Schwarz presents an eminently readable rendition of
the book. As in the case of his other translations, the work combines accuracy
with readability. His language is elegant, eschewing the many foreign words
which have entered contemporary Hebrew. He highlights words which appear in
Hebrew in the Judaeo-Arabic original by using a bold font so the reader knows
that this is Halevi’s Hebrew, not Schwarz’s.

As
noted above, one of the challenges with a translation of the Kuzari is
how to capture the Islamic/Arabic flavor of the work. Despite its reputation as
the most Jewish of the medieval Jewish philosophical treatises, recent research
has demonstrated the extent to which the Kuzari is steeped in Islamic concepts.[22]
This can be seen by its use of a number of key terms which are repeated
throughout the book, such as ṣafwa (the choicest, translated as segulah,
as found in other translations, despite Prof. Schwarz’s reservations); al-amr
al-ilāhī (divine order, translated ha-davar ha-‘elohi, as per Kafiḥ,
in contrast to Ibn Tibbon’s ha-ʿinyan ha-‘elohi); ijtihād (fervent
striving or innovating new laws, translated as hit’amẓut, hishtadlut, or ḥiddush
halakhah), or qiyās (analogous reasoning or general rationalism,
translated heqesh or higgayon). Since it is not always possible
to use the exact same translation in every context, the translator must find a
way of informing the reader of the underlying key term. Schwarz solves this
problem by drawing up a list of recurring Arabic concepts and noting each time
one of them is used. He then explains these terms in a special glossary devoted
to their explication. Some important Arabic words which are used less often are
explained in the textual notes. In addition, the notes provide references to
Halevi’s sources or further explications.

Scholarly
analyses of the Kuzari are extensive, and as in the case of Schwarz’s
translation of the Guide, the notes are full of references to this
secondary literature. Although he does not say so in his very short preface,
one can assume that as was the case in the Guide, the reference to a
particular article or book does not necessarily imply endorsement of the
material found therein. The annotations are there for comprehensiveness, and
the alert reader is enjoined to examine them carefully. The bibliography
occupies 36 pages. In addition, there are indices of sources and a general
index of topics and places.[23]

When
Part One of Prof. Michael Schwarz’s translation of the Guide was first published
by Tel-Aviv University Press in 1997, I offered the opinion that despite the
fact that it was the best available Hebrew version of Maimonides’ masterpiece,
I was not sure it would replace the other available translations, partially
since traditional Jewish readers might be wary of a university provenance and
the reliance on non-Jewish sources.[24] I believe that my estimation has been
proven wrong, since the translation’s clear superiority to the competition has
made it indispensible.[25] It is to be hoped that the same widespread
acceptance of the Schwarz translation of the Guide will be repeated in
the case of the Schwarz translation of the Kuzari, since it is, without
doubt, the best Hebrew Kuzari available.

Notes:

[1]
Books from this series are produced by the Mosad Bialik Publishing House. The
Schwarz Kuzari can be ordered here.
The translation is preceded by an introduction which Prof. Schwarz asked me to
write and which he approved a few weeks before his death. [Editor’s Note:
Professor Schwarz’ edition of the Kuzari can be purchased via Bialik or by
contacting (Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com) — where the book will be available at the
same  Book Week price. Portions of the proceeds of this sale help support the efforts of the Seforim Blog.]

[2] The title, The
Book of Rejoinder and Proof of the Despised Religion, is in accordance with
a Geniza fragment; a slightly different title appears in the one full Judaeo-Arabic
manuscript mentioned below. The title of Ibn Tibbon’s translation, Sefer
ha-kuzari, was that which was known to centuries of Hebrew readers, and it corresponds
to the title, al-kitāb al-khazarī (“The Book of the Khazar”), found in
Halevi’s famous autograph letter from the Geniza.

[3] See Adam
Shear, The Kuzari and the Shaping of Jewish Identity, 1167–1900,
Cambridge 2008. Another medieval translation, by Judah ben Isaac Cardenal, has
not survived.

[4] Das Buch
al-Chazarî des Abû-l-Hasan Jehuda Hallewi; im arabischen urtext sowie in
der hebräischen übersetzung des Jehuda Ibn Tibbon, herausgegeben von Hartwig
Hirschfeld, Leipzig, 1887. The manuscript is now classified as Neubauer
Catalogue Oxford ms. 1228, and it is freely available on-line (here).

[5] See Daniel
J. Lasker, “Adam and Eve or Adam and Noah? Judaeo-Arabic and Hebrew
Versions of the Same Books,” Pesher Nahum. Texts and Studies in Jewish
History and Literature from Antiquity Through the Middle Ages Presented to
Norman (Naḥum) Golb, ed. Joel L. Kraemer and Michael G. Wechsler et al.,
Chicago, 2012, pp.141-148.

[6] The Zifroni
edition, Warsaw, 1911, published under his original name Zifrinowitsch,
included many valuable notes. Subsequent editions generally omitted these
notes.

[7] Judah
ha-Levi, Kitāb al-radd wa-ʾl-dalīl fi ʾl-dīn al-dhalīl (Al-kitāb al-khazarī),
ed. David H. (Zvi) Baneth and Haggai Ben-Shammai, Jerusalem, 1977.

[8] The
Kosari of R. Yehuda Halevi, Translated Annotated and Introduced by Yehuda
Even Shmuel, Tel Aviv, 1972. On Even Shmuel, né Kaufman, see Ira Robinson, “The
Canadian years of Yehuda Kaufman (Even Shmuel): Educator, Journalist, and
Intellectual,” Canadian Jewish Studies, 15 (2007), pp. 129-142.

[9] See, e.g.,
Michael Schwarz’s effusive review in Kiryat Sefer, 49 (5734), pp.
198-202. Many years later, Prof. Schwarz told me that he no longer held the
views he expressed in that review.

[10] For
instance, the term ṣarīḥ/ ṣuraḥa’, meaning “native-born,” and indicative
of Halevi’s essentialist view of the Jewish chosenness, is glossed over in
1:115; 2:1; and 5:23; see Daniel J. Lasker, “Proselyte Judaism, Christianity
and Islam in the Thought of Judah Halevi,” Jewish
Quarterly Review, 81:1-2 (July-October, 1990): 75-91 (Hebrew version: in Ephraim Hazan and Dov Schwartz, eds., The
Poetry of Philosophy. Studies on the Thought of R. Yehuda Halevi,
Ramat-Gan, 2016, pp. 207-220).

[11] Sefer
ha-kuzari le-rabbeinu Yehuda Halevi zẓ”l, Kiryat Ono, 5757.

[12] Kafiḥ states
that he used the text published by Hirschfeld, correcting it according to the
Baneth-Ben-Shammai edition. A comparison of texts indicates that he did not
always follow Hirschfeld and Ben-Shammai. In fact, in the edition and Hebrew
translation, he accepted certain emendations in the order of the text and the
re-assignment of sections from the King to the Sage, and vice versa, e.g.,
3:25-31. These departures from the original are very similar to ones made by
Even Shmuel (both mention the opinion of Rabbi Ben-Zion Hai Uziel).

[13] Cohen’s
class notes were published many years later as a commentary on the Kuzari
under the title Ha-kuzari ha-mevu’ar, edited by Dov Schwartz, Jerusalem,
1997.

[14] Judah
Halevi, Sefer ha-kuzari, Tel Aviv, 2008 (with my introduction). The text
is vocalized and section headings have been added (not by me), but it is not a
scientific edition.

[15] Jerusalem,
2010. In his introduction (p. 5), Shailat writes that he was aware that Prof.
Schwarz was working on a translation, but he decided to go ahead with his own
project because it was unclear when the Schwarz translation would be ready and
unlike Schwarz’s rendition into modern Hebrew, Shailat was translating it into
medieval Hebrew.

[16] Judah
Hallevi’s Kitab al Khazari, translated from the Arabic with an introd. by
Hartwig Hirschfeld, London, 1905.

[17] E.g., the
edition by Schocken Publishing House, The Kuzari: An Argument for the Faith
of Israel (various editions), which mentions H. Slonimsky as the author of the
introduction on the cover of the book, but requires one to search well to find
out that it was Hirschfeld’s translation.

[18] Cleveland,
1960, with many reprints.

[19] Yehuda
HaLevi, The Kuzari. In defense of the Despised Faith, translated and
annotated by N. Daniel Korobkin, Northvale, N.J., 1998.

[20] Amazon.com
lists many editions of the Kuzari. I have been unable to check them
personally. As far as I know, they are all dependent upon the Hebrew.

[21]
Reference should be made as well to the excellent French translation by Prof. Charles
Touati (1925-2003), executed on the basis of the Judaeo-Arabic original: Juda
Hallevi, Le Kuzari. Apologie de la religion méprisé, traduit sur le
texte original arabe confronté avec la version hébraïque et accompagné d’une
introduction et de notes par Charles Touati, Louvain, 1994.

[22] My student
Ehud Krinis discusses Shi’ite influence; see his God’s Chosen People: Judah
Halevi’s Kuzari and the Shīcī Imām Doctrine, Turnhout 2014. For Sufi influence, see Diana Lobel, Between
Mysticism and Philosophy: Sufi Language of Religious Experience in Judah
Halevi’s Kuzari. Albany, NY 2000.

[23] The indices
were produced by Prof. Schwarz’s son, David Zori, who took upon himself the
responsibility of transforming his father’s draft into publishable form.
Editorial work on the text was done by Ayal Fishler.

[24] Jewish Studies, 37 (1997): 267-271
(Hebrew).

[25] An edition
of Schwarz’s Guide, without the notes and with some corrections, was
issued by Yediot Aharonot in the Am ha-sefer series, Tel-Aviv, 2008. The
translation was also at one time freely available on-line until Tel-Aviv
University Press removed its site. Accessing it on-line is still possible, but
it is not as easy as it once was.

Parshat
Tetzaveh. Greek letter Chi and Tav in Paleo-Hebrew

By Chaim
Sunitsky

Rashi[1] on Parshat
Tetzave writes that the priests were anointed with oil, poured in the shape
of the Greek letter כי.[2] One would assume this is referring to
letter Χ[3] – 22nd
letter of the Greek alphabet which sounds somewhere between English K and H[4]. This
letter spelled χῖ in Greek, is usually spelled “Chi” in English and indeed if one wanted to write it
in Hebrew, he would probably transcribe it as כי
(where Chaf is intended without dagesh). Moreover[5], when
Hebrew names are transliterated into Greek, Chi is used for Hebrew Chaf. In
addition, if the Talmud meant this letter it becomes clear why it didn’t use an
example of any Hebrew letter, as this shape is not found in Ashuri script of
Hebrew.

Despite all this
evidence we find various other shapes offered by the Rishonim[6]. In
fact in our printed editions of the Gemora only in Rashi on Kritot (5b) the printed
illustration looks like an “X.” Some of Rambam’s editions (Kelei Hamikdash 1:9)
also printed this shape, but the Frankel edition of Rambam[7]
claims that neither Rashi nor Rambam had this shape in mind and it was changed
later by some publishers[8]. Still,
one is inclined to think that the correct explanation is that it is the letter
X, and most Rishonim simply didn’t know Greek or have access to find out, and the correct tradition regarding
the shape of “Greek Chi” was forgotten, despite the fact that it pertains to
many halachot[9].

Before we go on, I’d
like to make another interesting point: Greek X has the same shape as the last
letter Tav in Paleo-Hebrew. Let us first examine the relationship of Greek
letters to Phoenician[10] and Paleo-Hebrew[11]. R.
Shaul Lieberman[12]
brings a very interesting idea with regards to the letter Tav in Paleo-Hebrew. We
find in Yehezkel (9:4) that Tav was marked on the foreheads of people to
distinguish the righteous from the wicked who were sentenced to death. According
to Hazal (Shabbat 55a) the mark was the actual letter Tav. As we mentioned this
letter in Paleo-Hebrew looked like the Greek Chi (X)[13] and
indeed became symbolic for a number of reasons[14]. R.
Lieberman brings that the X shape was used for crossing out a debt and was
therefore represented an annulment of a bad decree. On the other hand, Tav was pronounced
similarly to Greek Theta, whose shape was also associated with a death sentence[15]. We
thus have a double association of Tav (X) with Theta and with Chi. (Note in
general that while most letters in Greek alphabet clearly come from respective[16]  letters in Phoenician[17],
there are a few Greek letters, where it’s not certain which Phoenician letter
they correspond to and the Greek X is one of them[18].)

R. Lieberman further proposes
that originally the symbol of X written in blood was taken to mean forgiveness (crossing
out the decree) while X in ink was symbolic of death sentence (verdict written
in ink). However, since X has a shape similar to a cross, the early Christians started
to utilize cross in blood as symbolic of atonement, and therefore our sages
reversed that symbolism[19].

Coming back to the
shape of “Greek Chi,” it seems logical that the Hazal’s tradition is based on
an earlier tradition that the shape was that of letter Tav in Paleo-Hebrew[20] –
the last letter of the alphabet. It’s also possible that there was some
connection between the “sign” on the forehead in Yehezkel and the anointing of
a High Priest. Though the correct shape of this letter became subject to
multiple disputes over time, we may now be able to restore its ancient
symbolism[21].

All the comments to the previous posting (“A Note on R. Bezalel Alexandrov’s משכן בצלאל and its Prenumeranten”) are deeply appreciated. It’s what makes the Seforim Blog required reading for anyone interested in serious scholarship. I cannot possibly address all the comments. The references in the notes to the essay address some of the issues raised. To Yisrael Dubitsky’s important  comments, one should add that privately owned copies of the two parts of משכן בצלאל  are available, at the very least, in New York and Silver Spring, Maryland. Having said that, the fuller editions of  משכן בצלאל  and  ילקוט בצלאל  remain rare books. Hopefully, online resources such as Hebrew Books and Otzar Ha-Hokhmah will scan the fuller texts and make them available to all. Lest Yisrael’s comment about YU’s copy of   משכן בצלאל  be misunderstood by an uninformed reader (“Mishkan Betsalel is available at 4 libraries that reported to OCLC [YU is not one of them]”), rest assured that the Mendel Gottesman Library at YU owns a full edition of  משכן בצלאל. The Gottesman Library lists some 200,000 volumes of Judaica on its on-line catalogue, and these are reported to OCLC. Those 200,000 volumes form the basic books necessary for a Jewish Studies research library. But like many Jewish Studies research libraries, YU has many other collections of Judaica, catalogued and uncatalogued. One of those catalogued collections (not on-line) lists the full edition of  משכן בצלאל , which, courtesy of the YU librarians, I was able to consult when preparing the essay.

While the focus of the essay was not on  הסכמות , since the bulk of the comments focused on the  הסכמות of the  חפץ חיים  , I shall attempt to address that issue, and only briefly.

1. Whether one chooses to recognize the letter of the  חפץ חיים  as a הסכמה  or not, the letter remains one of the three reasons for bringing  משכן בצלאל  to the attention of the public. Any letter of the  חפץ חיים  is a treasure. This particular one is published only in משכן בצלאל   (and in the secondary sources based upon  משכן בצלאל).

In sum, given the uncertain (and changing) definitions of the term הסכמה through the ages, I cannot speak with confidence that I know precisely, in every case, what is and what isn’t a  הסכמה. And I certainly have no monopoly on wisdom. Nonetheless, for the reasons listed above, I am persuaded that R. Bezalel Alexandrov asked the חפץ חיים for a הסכמה in 1923, and printed the one he received. Readers will have to decide for themselves the precise status of the חפץ חיים’s letter printed at the beginning of משכן בצלאל. But whatever they decide, they need to bear in mind the variety of definitions of הסכמה through the ages, they need to examine all the evidence, and they need to realize that their conclusion will be only one opinion among many others, and not necessarily the correct one.

A Note on R. Bezalel Alexandrov’s משכן בצלאל and its Prenumeranten

By Shnayer Z. Leiman

            Not much appears to be known about R. Bezalel Alexandrov (circa 1850-1930). Born in Grodno, he would ultimately come under the influence of the teachings of R. Yisrael Salanter (1809-1883), largely through the efforts of R. Yitzchak Blazer, i.e., R. Itzel Peterburger (1837-1907). R. Bezalel considered R. Itzel to be his primary teacher, especially during the period they both resided in Kovno. R. Bezalel was a close associate of R. Yosef Yozel Horowitz (1847-1919) of Nevarodok, perhaps the last of the disciples of R. Yisrael Salanter. A musar enthusiast, R. Bezalel served as a moreh zedek (i.e., a dayyan) in Minsk, where he also founded a kibbutz (a kind of kollel for advanced – and mostly married — students) in the Minsk suburb of Kamerovka.[1]

            R. Bezalel published two books in his lifetime, משכן בצלאל (Vilna, 1923) and ילקוט בצלאל (Piotrkow, 1927-9). Both are significant, rarely seen, and often miscatalogued by the few bibliographers who managed to hold copies in their hands. Here, we shall focus primarily on משכן בצלאל.

Here, one sample will suffice. Although we have many accounts of R. Itzel Peterburger’s “vow of silence” during the 40 day period from Rosh Hodesh Elul through Yom Kippur,[10] R. Bezalel’s account offers details not recorded elsewhere:[11]

Lists of subscribers, known as prenumeranten,[13] are significant for a variety of reasons. Often, they tell us how far and wide authors traveled in order to raise the funds necessary for the publication of their books. They tell us who bought the books, and when and where they were purchased. Our list is particularly significant because it is mostly kloyzen driven, i.e., the books were acquired for the libraries of the various synagogues, בתי מדרשים, and kloyzen in Vilna. Indeed, our list includes several kloyzen not listed in the most recent and most comprehensive list of Vilna kloyzen published in 2012![14] Our list also lists key members of the various kloyzen in 1923. There are more such lists of Vilna subscribers and their kloyzen, and they all need to be examined.[15]

Notice that our list includes among the subscribers the חפץ חיים, R. Chaim Ozer Grodzenski, R. Menachem Krakowski (maggid mesharim of Vilna), and R. Boruch Ber Leibowitz (then serving as Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivas Kneses Beis Yitzchak in Vilna, and as a moreh zedek in Vilna). Each is accorded the title הגאון הגדול. Also among the subscribers (fourth on the list) is R. Isaac Rubinstein, listed is the רב מטעם, i.e., “the crown rabbi.” It is surely no accident that he is listed as הגאון, but not as הגאון הגדול. He was a distinguished – and tragic – rabbinic figure,[16] and it seems quite clear that R. Bezalel Alexandrov wanted to make a distinction between the various rabbis listed as subscribers.

In sum, the list reproduced here serves as a reminder to scholars that it is not enough to examine archival lists and history books. One often needs to examine other kinds of evidence – such as prenumeranten – that shed much light on Jewish social and intellectual history.[17]

Notes:

[1] See S. Even-Shoshan, ed., מינסק עיר ואם (Tel-Aviv, 1975), vol. 1, pp. 99-100. Cf. S. Weintraub, נובהרדוק (Bnei Brak, 2014), vol. 1, pp. 255- 257.

[2] A copy of the 136-page edition is available at the Mendel Gottesman Library of Yeshiva University. Neither the 40-page edition nor the 136 page edition is available online on HebrewBooks.org, אוצר החכמה, and אוצרות התורה.

[3] In general, see the sources cited in S. Stampfer, “Marital Patterns in Interwar Poland,” in Y. Gutman, ed., The Jews of Poland Between Two World Wars (Hanover, 1989), pp. 173-197. Cf. his “The Social Implications of Very Early Marriage,” in S. Stampfer, Families, Rabbis and Education (Oxford, 2010), pp. 7-25. None of the social historians seem to have been aware of משכן בצלאל.

[4] ילקוט בצלאל consists of two parts, the first contains 86 pages, and the second contains 102 pages. Part 1 is available online on Hebrew Books and אוצר החכמה, but not on אוצרות התורה. Part 2 is not available online. A copy with parts 1 and 2 is available at the National Library in Jerusalem.

[5] ילקוט בצלאל, part 1, p. 71.

[6] The letter of approbation was designated for משכן בצלאל, where it first appeared. The author took the liberty of reprinting it (together with two other letters of approbation that first appeared in משכן בצלאל) in his ילקוט בצלאל.

[7] See מאיר עיני ישראל (Bnei Brak, 2003), vol. 6, pp. 782-801.

[8] So, apparently, it was understood by R. Bezalel Alexandrov himself. See משכן בצלאל, p. 2.

[9] See, e.g., משכן בצלאל, p. 66. On R. Yisrael, see M. Heilprin,הגדול ממינסק (Jerusalem, 1994), pp. 96, 121-122, and 201.

[10] See, e.g., D. Katz, תנועת המוסר (Tel-Aviv, 1954), vol. 2, pp. 232-235; Ch. E. Zaichyk, המאורות הגדולים (Brooklyn, 1953), pp. 149-165; and M. Blazer, רבי איצלה (Bnei Brak, 2014), pp.475-540. None stresses the fact that R. Itzel, aside from his frequent hortatory Musar talks throughout Yom Kippur eve and day, also led the Kol Nidrei, Musaf, and Nei’lah services! It may well be that R. Itzel didn’t do this ordinarily on Yom Kippur (or in his old age), but R. Bezalel offers eyewitness testimony to what he experienced as a youth in Kovno.

[11] ילקוט בצלאל, pp. 31-32. A lengthy דבר תורה by R. Itzel follows the passage excerpted here.

[12] On Vilna’s kloyzen, see in general Khaykl Lunski, מהגיטו הוילנאי (Vilna, 1921), pp. 48-65, and the much fuller and more comprehensive listing of 135 (and more) kloyzen in A. Cohen-Mushlin et al, eds., Synagogues in Lithuania N-Z (Vilnius, 2012), pp. 281-353.

[13] On prenumeranten, see Berl Kagan, ספר הפרענומעראנטן [Hebrew Subscription Lists], New York, 1975; Shlomo Katzav, ספר החותמים (Petah Tikvah, 1984), vol. 2; and idem, ספר החותמים (Petah Tikvah, 1992), vol. 3. [See the late Tovia Preschel’s review of Berl Kagan’s ספר הפרענומעראנטן in the Jewish Press, May 30, 1975, p. 40; I am indebted to Menachem Butler for bringing the review to my attention. More importantly, see the recently published מאמרי טוביה, vol. 1 (Jerusalem, 2016) for a treasure trove of reviews and essays by Tovia Preschel, bibliophile and bibliographer par excellence. No Judaica library – public or private – should be without this volume, and without the full set when brought to completion.] These volumes provide indices to all Hebrew books that include prenumeranten by listing alphabetically all the towns and cities where the authors solicited subscriptions. Under each place listed, appear the titles of all Hebrew books that include subscribers from that place. Thus, if your great-grandfather was from Jaroslaw in southeastern Poland, you would locate the entry “Jaroslaw” in the Kagan or Katzav volumes, and immediately see the appended list of Hebrew books that include prenumeranten from Jaroslaw. You would then have to examine (online or at the library of your choice) each of the titles listed to see if your great-grandfather’s name appears on its list of prenumeranten. Cf. below, note 17.

[14] Cf. above, note 12. Thus, for example, בהמ”ד חורשי עצים, בהמ”ד קו”ק, and בהמ”ד פועלי צדק are either not mentioned or not properly identified in Synagogues in Lithuania. בהמ”ד שומר אמונים is mentioned in Synagogues in Lithuania (p. 340) but not identified.

[15] See, e.g., the highly informative list of prenumeranten and kloyzen in Vilna in R. Ch. S. Gluskin, רחשי לב (Bilgoray, 1934), pp. 271-272.

[16] On Rabbi Rubinstein, see G. Bacon, “Rubinstein vs. Grodzinski: The Dispute Over the Vilnius Rabbinate and the Religious Realignment of Vilnius Jewry 1928-1932,” in I. Lempertas and L. Lempertiene, eds., The Gaon of Vilnius and the Annals of Jewish Culture (Vilnius, 1998), pp. 295-304, and the references cited in Bacon’s note 4.

[17] It is with great joy and much anticipation that we welcome the recent publication of the first volume of קונטרס שמות החותמים (Brooklyn, 2016).

Unlike the indices listed above in note 12, it reproduces the full lists of prenumeranten exactly as they appeared when first printed. The volume contains 670 pages of prenumeranten from lists that appeared in books printed between 1790 and 1840. Presumably, the volumes to follow will print all lists from 1840 through the mid 20th century, when such lists mostly fell into desuetude. If brought to fruition, the entire set will probably consist of four volumes. The advantage of the קונטרס שמות החותמים volumes, of course, is that here we have the names of all the subscribers before our very eyes. The first volume is surely a gold mine of information, but questions remain. Lacking an introduction, we are not informed who is really responsible for the volume; what are its goals; whether or not there will be a full index of titles, names, and places; which libraries are providing the material that is being scanned; and which books are being included and which are being excluded. It seems obvious that either all or most of the books scanned by קונטרס שמות החותמים are from the Lubavitch Library in Brooklyn, certainly one of the world’s greatest collections of Judaica. But no single Judaica collection (not even the National Library in Israel) has copies of every Hebrew (and Yiddish) book. Any project attempting to gather all lists of prenumeranten will, by definition, have to be a universal project, involving the great Judaica libraries the world over. It is, for example, unclear, why the first list of prenumeranten in קונטרס שמות החותמים is from 1790, when such lists were quite common throughout much of the last quarter of the 18th century (e.g., יסוד עולם, Berlin, 1777; שבילי דרקיע, Prague, 1784). Despite these misgivings, קונטרס שמות החותמים is certainly a welcome addition to every Jewish bibliophile’s bookshelf. What ultimately needs to be done is to have all the lists of prenumeranten gathered together in one place, digitized and OCRed, so that the information contained in them (especially names of persons, names of towns and cities, and dates and places of publication) becomes searchable and retrievable. The yield for תלמידי חכמים, social historians, genealogists, and linguists (spelling of Hebrew and Yiddish names and places, history of surnames) is inestimable.

As a sample of some of the treasures that one can find in the new volume, we reproduce the title page of R. David Friesenhausen’s מוסדות תבל (Vienna, 1820), and two of its 14 pages of prenumeranten. These appear on pp. 331, 332, and 345-346 in קונטרס שמות החותמים. [ We have reproduced the pages from the original Vienna, 1820 edition, since the editor of קונטרס שמות החותמים sometimes divides a single page into two parts, presenting them as two pages.]

Blood Accusation in Ragusa (Today Dubrovnik, Croatia) 1622 – A bibliographical mistake 

במסגרת עבודה על פרשת עלילת הדם שהתחוללה בעיר ראגוזה (היום דוברובניק בקרואטיה) בשנת שפ”ג לפ”ק (1622) נתקלתי בטעות ביבליוגרפית:

האזכור הראשון לעלילת דם זו בספרות היהודית הוא בקונטרס מצורף  בסוף “ספר שמן הטוב על הראש שיורד על הזקן, זקן אהרון” שנדפס בוונציה בדפוס ונדראמין בשנת 1657 בשם “מעשה ישורון”. הספור נכתב על ידי אהרון בן דוד הכהן, שהיה עד ראיה כנער קטן לאותו אירוע נורא ומסופר על ידו סמוך למותו בשנת 1956. גיבור האירוע הוא סוחר יהודי בשם יצחק ישורון שהואשם בכך שביקש מתושבת לא יהודייה בראגוזה, לרצוח נערה צעירה כדי להשתמש בדמה לצרכי הפולחן היהודי. הרוצה לקרוא את סיפור המעשה הזה, מופנה לקישור למאמר שכתבתי: here .

והנה, בתיאור הספר  בקטלוג “הספרייה הלאומית” (מספר מדף: R=2=4638, מספר מערכת: 001125100) מופיעים הקישורים הבאים: אוהב שלמה (סבו של המחבר),  אהרון בן דוד הכהן מרגוזה (מחבר הספר) ו-ישורון, יצחק בן אברהם חיים. כיתוב אחרון זה הוא טעות הדורשת תיקון.

גם בתיאור כתב יד שהועתק מהקונטרס “מעשה ישורון”, כ”י  דז’אלובסקי מהמאה ה-18 ונמצא בגנזי “הספרייה הלאומית” (מספר מערכת 000045693) מופיע הקישור: “ישורון, יצחק בן אברהם חיים, נפטר ב-1655” וכן

בתרגום “מעשה ישורון” לקרואטית שנדפס ב-1882 (מספר מערכת 001907126). קישור זהה חוזר בכל ההוצאות המאוחרות יותר של “מעשה ישורון” המופיעות בקטלוג “הספרייה הלאומית”.

בגוף הסיפור “מעשה ישורון” כפי שנדפס בראשונה, מצטייר יצחק ישורון כאיש פשוט שגורלו אינה לו תפקיד שאם היה נשבר תחת העינויים הקשים שעבר, היה דן למוות לא את עצמו בלבד אלא גם את כל הקהילה היהודית שנכלאה בגטו היהודי בראגוזה כל עת המשפט. לבד מכך, הסיפור אינו מספר עליו מאומה, לא לפני האירוע ולא לאחריו. אם כך, מאיפה לקח הביבליוגרף את היותו בנו של אברהם חיים?

בדיקה גנאלוגית  מגלה שמשפחת ישורון שמוצאה בחצי האי האיברי הייתה נפוצה באותה תקופה בכל ארצות אירופה המערבית וביחוד בארצות השפלה (הולנד ובלגיה של ימינו), צפון גרמניה ואיטליה. רבים מהם עסקו  במסחר בין לאומי, בעסקי ציבור ובלימוד. ועוד, השם יצחק שכיח מאד במשפחה זאת.

נראה שקרתה כאן טעות בזיהוי: איננו יודעים עדין מי היה יצחק ישורון, גיבור “מעשה ישורון”, אך יצחק ישורון בן אברהם חיים הוא ללא כל ספק הרב הספרדי של העיר המבורג באותן שנים ממש, מקורבו וידידו של רבי שמואל אבוהב. (תיאור מעניין על קשריהם נמצא בספרו של מאיר בניהו “דור אחד בארץ”, בדף מ”ה – מ”ט, ו וכבר כתב על כך אלי שטרן). יצחק ישורון בן אברהם חיים גם חיבר את הספר “פנים חדשות” הכולל חידושי דינים והלכות שונות שנדפס אף הוא בדפוס ונדראמין בוונציה בשנת 1655 (ראה בספרו של בן מנחם על “המשפט העברי”, דף 1082) ויתכן שזהו מקור הטעות ברישום הביבליוגרפי.