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Taliban Women and More

Taliban Women and More

Marc B. Shapiro

1. In this post I am going to respond to a number of emails and requests to deal with certain topics. I can’t get to everything I was asked about, and will only touch on some topics, but here is a start.
Let’s begin with the common practice in the Israeli haredi world of ignoring what the Sages tell us in Kiddushin 29a and not teaching young men a trade so that instead they can devote themselves to Torah study.[1] People assume that this is a late twentieth-century phenomenon. While it is true that the numbers of people who currently follow this approach is much larger than ever before in history, it must be noted that even in previous years there were those who acted in the same fashion. We see this from R. Pinhas Horowitz’ strong words against this approach in his Sefer ha-Berit, vol. 2, ma’amar 12, ch. 10.
R. Meir Mazuz has recently suggested that this negative attitude towards work explains a passage in one of the most popular Shabbat zemirot.[2] The following lines appear in Mah Yedidot.

חפציך בו אסורים וגם לחשוב חשבונות, הרהורים מותרים ולשדך הבנות, ותינוק ללמדו ספר למנצח בנגינות
Artscroll, Family Zemiros, translates as follows:

Your mundane affairs are forbidden on it [Shabbat] and also to calculate accounts; Reflections are permitted and to arrange matches for maidens; To arrange for a child to be taught Scripture, to sing a song of praise.

(R. Jonathan Sacks, in his siddur, p. 388, translates the last words similarly: “singing songs of praise.”)
The first thing to note is that the translation is incorrect. The words למנצח בנגינות do not mean “to sing a song of praise”. The word למנצח is not an infinitive (that would be לנצח, patah under the nun). It is a noun with a prefix, and means “to the choirmaster” or something like that. Artscroll, in its Tanach (Ps. 6:1), translates למנצח בנגינות: “For the conductor, with the neginos.” The note tells us that neginos are a type of musical instrument.
I sympathize with Artscroll when confronted with the need to translate the words למנצח בנגינות in the song. It is obvious that the words make no sense. Until then the passage was speaking about what was permitted on the Sabbath and then you have למנצח בנגינות .
This is an old problem and while a couple of forced answers have been suggested, others have argued that what we have here a mistaken reading, and instead of למנצח בנגינות it should read וללמדו אומנות (perhaps even reading אומנות with a final holam in order to make it rhyme). The entire paragraph in Mah Yedidot is derived from Shabbat 150a, and there it states: משדכין על התינוקות ליארס בשבת ועל התינוק ללמדו ספר וללמדו אומנות. After seeing this, can anyone still have a doubt that the standard version is incorrect?

R. Mazuz is apparently unaware that others before him had already suggested that וללמדו אומנות was the original version,[3] but he is the only one to suggest why the text was changed. Although it strikes me as a bit far-fetched, he assumes that when people stopped teaching their sons a trade this verse became problematic, and therefore someone took it upon himself to alter the text.
After criticizing Artscroll’s translation (and in future posts I will have more such examples), let me now mention an instance where of all the translations I have consulted, only Artscroll gets it right.

Every Friday night we say the following (which is based on Isaiah 52:1):
התנערי מעפר קומי לבשי בגדי תפארתך עמי
Sacks translates: “Shake yourself off, arise from the dust! Put on your clothes of glory, My people.” All the translations I have consulted render along these lines. The problem, however, is obvious. If “My people” is being addressed, then why are the verbs and the suffix of תפארתך  feminine?
Artscroll recognized the problem and translates: “Shake off the dust – arise! Don your splendid clothes, My people.” The translation is explained in the note: “Jerusalem – your most splendid garment is Israel. Let the redemption come so that they may inhabit you in holiness once more.” In other words, Jerusalem is being addressed, not the people of Israel. “My people” is therefore identified metaphorically with “your splendid clothes.” The stanza thus needs to be read as a continuation of the prior stanza – מקדש מלך עיר מלוכה – which is also addressed to Jerusalem.
Furthermore, if you look at Isaiah 52:1, upon which the text is based, it reads: לבשי בגדי תפארתך ירושלים עיר הקודש  “Put on your beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city.” So we see that also in the original verse it is Jerusalem that is being addressed. Artscroll cites this interpretation in the name of Iyun Tefillah (found in Otzar ha-Tefilot) and refers to it as “novel”. This understanding (which is actually the peshat of the words) was also suggested by R. Kook[4] R. Baruch Epstein,[5] and R. David Hadad.[6] 
2. A long time ago I was asked to deal with the so-called Jewish Taliban women, who completely cover their faces when they go out. I know that everyone has downplayed their significance and referred to them as crazy. I think that this is too optimistic an assumption. Although I am not predicting it, I would not be surprised if this turned into a real phenomenon. All these women need is one somewhat respected Torah scholar to support them and they will then become just another faction in extremist Orthodoxy. You will then have groups that don’t allow women to drive (or smoke, or use a cellular phone, etc.), and another group that also requires that they cover their faces when they leave home. The real difference today is that while with the other groups we have men telling women how to behave for reasons of tzeniut, the Taliban group is completely female driven and led.

The truth of the matter is that the Taliban women make a certain amount of sense. They are part of a community that forbids women’s (and even little girl’s) pictures to appear in printed matter because seeing this might arouse sexual thoughts in men.[7] Even though these women never studied Talmud, we know that one doesn’t need to be talmid hakham to derive a basic kal va-homer. Even these uneducated women can conclude that if men’s souls can be destroyed by seeing a picture of a woman or a little girl, how much more so can they be driven to sexual frenzy by seeing a live woman or girl? As such, it makes perfect sense that when they go out on the street they are completely covered and only their husband and children are permitted see their faces.[8] It is their opponents in the haredi word who have to explain why it is permitted to see the faces of real live women but forbidden to see their pictures. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, as the Taliban women have rightly concluded.
I am sure that any rabbinic authorities that come to support the Taliban women will be able to find relevant sources to defend this lifestyle. I know this will surprise readers, especially as many rabbis have declared that the Taliban women are completely distorting Jewish rules of modesty. These rabbis have claimed that unlike Arabs, Jewish women have never dressed this way (unless they were forced to) as the face is not ervah. Therefore, these rabbis have asserted, Jewish tzeniut has never, has ve-shalom, seen it as a value for women to completely cover their faces.

Lines like this are good for applause in a Modern Orthodox (and even a haredi) shul, among people anxious to be reassured that these Taliban women couldn’t possibly have any sources in our tradition for their actions. The truth of the matter is that, whether we like it or not, there are sources that are strong supports for the Taliban women, and there is no reason to deny that they exist.[9] Sotah 10b is clearly praising Tamar when it mentions that she was so modest that she covered her face in her father-in-law’s house. R. Joseph Messas (Mayim Hayyim, vol. 2, Orah Hayyim no. 140) points out that Shabbat 6:6 refers to Arabian Jewish women going out veiled, which means that their entire face was covered except for their eyes. He also points to Shabbat 8:3: כחול כדי לכחול עין אחת, which as explained in the Talmud refers to those women who were so modest that they were completely veiled, with only one eye showing in order for them to see (see Rashi, ad loc. See also Rashi to Isaiah 3:19.) Messas tells us that in his youth he personally saw Jewish women who dressed like this: וכן ראינו בימי נעורנו. R. Meir Mazuz’s mother testified that brides in Djerba would only show one eye, also for reasons of modesty.[10]

Here we have evidence that the Taliban dress was actually a traditional Jewish dress, just the sort of material that can be used to support the new dress code. In fact, one doesn’t even need to look to Morocco or Djerba, or even to talmudic literature, to find sources that women dressed this way. It is found right in the Song of Songs 4:9. This verse states: “Thou has ravished my heart with one of thine eyes.” The Soncino translation explains: “It is customary for an Eastern woman to unveil one of her eyes when addressing someone.” In other words, normally, for reasons of modesty, the woman is entirely covered (although this covering would be see-through so she could walk properly), and only at certain times would she remove it to reveal one eye. I know some people are thinking that this is exactly the sort of explanation you can expect from Soncino, which loves to quote non-Orthodox and even non-Jewish commentators, and if you look at the various traditional commentaries they do indeed provide all sorts of allegorical meanings for this verse. Yet the Jerusalem Talmud, Shabbat 8:3, also understands the verse as giving an example of modest behavior on the part of the woman, that she only uncovers one eye. As explained by Korban ha-Edah:
מביא פסוק זה לראיה שדרך הצנועות לצאת באחת מעיניה מכוסה ואחת מגולה
(Korban ha-Edah and all the other traditional commentaries I have seen assume that the woman always goes with one eye uncovered, while Soncino explains that she only uncovers this one eye on special occasions.)
R. Baruch Epstein takes note of this passage in the Jerusalem Talmud in his commentary to Song of Songs, and adds.
לפנים בעת שהיו נוהגות הנשים ללכת עטופות היו מגלות רק עין אחת כדי לראות מהלכן, ומכאן רמז שמנהג כזה הוא מנהג כשר וצנוע, שהרי כן משבחה הכתוב שלבבתו בעין אחת.
If this practice is, as Epstein says, a מנהג כשר וצנוע, then I don’t think we should be surprised if some circles attempt to bring it back into style.
A few paragraphs above I quoted a responsum of R. Joseph Messas.[11] In this teshuvah he also explains why women can’t be given aliyotAs is well known, in earlier days this was permitted but the Sages later forbid it on account of kevod ha-tzibbur (Megillah 23a). There have been lots of interpretations of what kevod ha-tzibbur means, but Messas has a very original perspective. He claims that the reason women were banned from receiving aliyot is because this would lead to sexual arousal among the male congregants. Messas believes that this came from the actual experience of the Sages, who saw what happened when women received aliyot. He also assumes that these women would have been dressed in a Taliban-like fashion[12]: בהסתר פנים כמנהג נשים קדמוניות. But even such a woman, covered head to toe, still created problems with the sexually fixated men.[13]
ובדורות שאחריהם ראו שיש בזה מחשבת עריות, שהצבור היו שואלים זה לזה, מי זאת עולה . . . ואם היה קולה ערב מוסיף להבעיר אש היצר, ולכן עמדו ובטלו את הדבר.
Knowing how concerned the Sages were about avoiding situations that could lead to sexual thoughts, it makes sense that they would ban the practice if they thought that women’s aliyot would lead in this direction.[14] But Messas now has a problem, because the Talmud doesn’t give this as a reason for abolishing women’s aliyot. Instead, it states that they were abolished because of kevod ha-tzibbur. This leads Messas to offer one of the wonderfully original interpretations that can be found so often in his writings. He claims that because the Sages didn’t want to insult the (male) community by telling them the real reason why they abolished the aliyot, namely, that even during Torah reading men can’t control themselves from sexual thoughts, therefore they invented the concept of kevod ha-tzibbur! However, this is not the real reason, and therefore all attempts to explain the meaning of the term are irrelevant. The real reason is the male sexual desire which as Messas states, is always in need to being fenced in:[15]
וכדי שלא להראות את הצבור שחשדו אותם, תלו הטעם מפני כבוד הציבור, שלא תהא האשה הפטורה מן הדבר מתערבת עם האנשים המחוייבים בו וכן בכל דור היו גודרים גדרים בעריות
Based on this male weakness, Messas claims that the mehitzah has to be built in such a fashion that the men cannot see the women. He even has a most original way to explain to the women why they are placed in what amounts to a completely other room. Rather than being a sign of their insignificance, it is a sign of how important they are. The proof of this importance is that men are constantly drawn to look at them. Therefore, by building a high mehitzah we are able to save the men from themselves.
I haven’t yet mentioned the shawls that some women have started wearing (and which was the practice in the days of the Rambam; see Hilkhot Ishut 13:11) Most shawl-wearers are not so extreme as to completely cover their faces, and because of this the practice has been defended by some fairly mainstream people. According to R. Ovadiah Yosef’s son-in-law, R. Aharon Abutbol, and R. David Benizri, R. Ovadiah sees the practice in a positive light for those women who are able to take it on.[16] Among others who have spoken out in favor of the shawls are R. Yitzhak Ratsaby,[17] R. Avraham Baruch,[18] and R. Mendel Fuchs, a dayan for the Edah Haredit (who refers to the “heilige shawl”).[19] There is even a fairly recent book that discusses the matter in detail. It is Ahoti Kalah, by R. Avraham Arbel. Here is the title page.
Arbel is a great talmid hakham.[20] His book carries haskamot from mainstream figures, including R. Ovadiah, R. Neuwirth, and R. Nebenzahl. In the book, he explains the importance of the shawl, how women are not supposed to leave their home and if they must go out they should appear unattractive so that men are not drawn to them, and how it is absolutely forbidden for women to wear jewelry outside their home. (Recently, Arbel expanded the section of the book dealing with women’s tzeniut into a full-fledged book of its own.)

3. In the last post I quoted R. Kook’s comments about the holiness of the am ha’aretz. This is not a sentiment that has been widely shared among the rabbinic elite, and negative comments about the am ha’aretz abound in rabbinic literature from all eras. Most of these comments appear in non-halakhic contexts, but there are plenty that are found in classic halakhic works. See for example Shulhan Arukh, Yoreh Deah 198:48, where R. Moses Isserles states that if a woman coming home from the mikveh enounters a דבר טמא או גוי , if she is pious she will immerse again. This is obviously not so applicable today, as in any big city in the Diaspora, where people walk to the mikveh, it is impossible not to come across a non-Jew on the way home. The formulation of Rama was made in an era when Jews lived in their own quarters, and at night it wouldn’t be common to come into contact with non-Jews. On this halakhah, the Shakh quotes the Sha’arei Dura who expands the lists of things a woman hopes to avoid on the way home to include an am ha’aretz. (This formulation obviously troubled some, and Pithei Teshuvah quotes the opinion that only an am ha’aretz gamur is meant, i.e., one who doesn’t even recite keriat shema [due to his ignorance]. This definition of an am ha’aretz is found in Berakhot 47b and Sotah 22a. Examination of rabbinic literature shows that the term “am ha’aretz” has a variety of meaning, ranging from a simple ignoramus to one who is actually quite wicked and hates the Sages.)
Speaking of the am ha’aretz, here is something interesting, as it includes both a difficult comment of Rashi (actually, the commentary falsely attributed to Rashi) and what might be is an example of Artscroll purposely omitting mention of it because of how problematic it would be to explain. Nedarim 49a states: “Rav Judah said: The soft part of a pumpkin [should be eaten] with beet; the soft part of linseed is good with kutah. But this may not be told to the am ha’aretz.”
Why don’t we tell this to the am ha’aretz? Artscroll quotes the explanation of the Ran that if the boors knew about this, they would uproot the plants before they could be harvested. Tosafot claims that the ignoramuses won’t believe what we tell them and they will mock the teaching of the Sages. “Rashi” has a completely different explanation. He writes:
משום דדבר מעולה הוא לרפואה ואסור לומר להם שום דבר שיהנו ממנו
What this means is that we don’t let the am ha’aretz know about the medicinal property of this plant. In other words, we don’t want the am ha’aretz, even though he is another Jew, to benefit, and he is thus treated no differently than an idolater. (Tosafot cites this explanation and rejects it.) Even though “Rashi” is referring to a real am ha’aretz, as per the Talmud’s description in Berakhot 47b, it is still quite a shocking explanation. It is true that there is a passage in Pesahim 49b which states: “R. Eleazar said: An am ha’aretz, it is permitted to stab him [even] on the Day of Atonement which falls on the Sabbath . . . R. Samuel b. Nahmani said in R. Johanan’s name: One may tear an am ha’aretz like a fish.” Still, these passages are according to almost everyone not meant to be taken literally,[21] while “Rashi,” on the other hand, means exactly what he says.
[1] Many have discussed why Maimonides doesn’t explicitly record this halakhah in the Mishneh Torah. See the interesting approach of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira, Divrei Torah, Eighth Series, no. 18 (p. 974), which can be used to justify the Israeli haredi perspective.
[2] See Or Torah, Heshvan 5772, pp. 169-170. R. Mazuz’s own attitude towards yeshiva students preparing themselves to earn a living is seen in his haskamah to R. Hayyim Amsalem’s Gadol ha-Neheneh mi-Yegio. The book is available here.
Here is R. Mazuz’s haskamah.

Here is the letter of R. Mazuz that appears at the end of the volume.

There are numerous texts I could bring in opposition to the approach of Amsalem and Mazuz (which I believe is also the approach of the Sages). One noteworthy one is found in Ateret Menahem, p. 23a, where R. Menahem Mendel of Rimanov is quoted as follows:

אם א’ אומר לחתנו היושב ולומד תורה בהתמדה שיתחיל לעסוק במו”מ עבור כי איתא [אבות פ”ב מ”ב] יפה ת”ת עם דרך ארץ וכו’, זה הוא מערב רב חו”ש
[3] See e.g., Naftali ben Menahem, Zemirot shel Shabbat (Jerusalem, 1949), p. 134.
[4] See Zev Rabiner, Or Mufla, p. 92.
[5] Barukh She-Amar, p. 238.
[6] See R. Meir Mazuz, Darkhei ha-Iyun, pp. 127ff.
[7] Regarding not seeing women’s pictures, this position can also find sources to support it. R. Joseph Hayyim, Rav Berakhot, ma’arekhet tzadi (p. 137), writes quite strongly against women’s pictures, because men will come to look at them. Here is the page.

[8] For some, it is better if the women basically do not go out of the house at all at all. Such a position is held by R. Hayyim Rabbi, a mainstream Sephardic rabbi (who like all significant Sephardic rabbis, also has a website. See here).
Here is his haskamah to R. Hanan Aflalo’s, Asher Hanan, vol. 3, and see Aflalo’s response that a rabbi has to actually be part of a community and know its situation in order to properly decide matters for it.

While Aflalo’s reply is phrased very respectfully, his feeling that Rabbi is way off base comes through very clearly.

Rabbi’s position about a woman not leaving the house can find support in a variety of traditional texts (not least, the Rambam, Hilkhot Ishut 13:11). What makes it significant is that he offers this advice even today. While it is true that in the Islamic world Jewish women were more accustomed to stay inside than their co-religionists in Europe, we also find European rishonim who see this as something to strive for. See e.g.,, Radak to 2 Samuel 13:2: ודרך הבתולות בישראל להיות צנועות בבית ולא תצאנה החוצה. See also Rashi, Deut. 22:23: פרצה קוראה לגנב הא אלו ישבה בביתה לא אירע לה. For other relevant sources, see R. Mazuz’s comment in R. Raphael Kadir Tzaban, Nefesh Hayah, vol. 2, p. 267.
I was surprised to find that the Moroccan R. Raphael Ankawa, in the twentieth century, ruled that a husband could forbid his wife from leaving the house without his permission. If she didn’t listen, she would lose her ketubah. See Toafot Re’em, no. 3. In a letter of support for Ankawa by R. Shlomo Ibn Danan and R. Mattityahu Serero they go so far as to state that if the woman doesn’t go along with the husband’s command and take an oath binding herself in this matter, the husband can, if he wishes, refuse to divorce her and she will remain an “agunah” her entire life without any financial support from him! He, of course, will be given permission to remarry.
ואם לא ירצה לגרשה תשב עד שתלבין ראשה ונותנין לו רשות לישא אשה אחרת אחר ההתראות הראויות והיא אבדה כתוב’ ואין לה לא מזונות ולא פרנסה ולא שום תנאי מתנאי הכתובה.
(As late as 1965, another Moroccan posek, R. Yedidyah Monsenego, ruled that where the husband had reason to suspect his wife of being unfaithful, he could require her to never leave home without him, even to visit relatives, except when she had to go to work. See Peat ha-Yam, no. 24)
All I can say is that contemporary women should be thankful that the RCA beit din and many of the rabbinic courts in the State of Israel have realized that in modern times men and women must be treated equally in the divorce proceedings, and women can no longer be held prisoner in a dead marriage as was often the case in earlier times. With this in mind, let me remind people that in an earlier post, available here, I wrote as follows:
R. Hayyim Benveniste, Keneset ha-Gedolah, Even ha-Ezer 154, Hagahot Beit Yosef no. 59, in discussing when we can force a husband to give a divorce, writes:
ובעל משפט צדק ח”א סי’ נ”ט כתב דאפי’ רודף אחריה בסכין להכותה אין כופין אותו לגרש ואפי’ לו’ לו שחייב להוציא.
Can anyone imagine a posek, from even the most right-wing community, advocating such a viewpoint? I assume the logic behind this position is that even if the man is running after her with the knife, we don’t assume that he will actually kill her. He must just be doing it to scare her, and that is not enough of a reason to force him to divorce her. And if we are wrong, and he really does kill her? I guess the reply would be that this isn’t anything we could have anticipated even if we saw the knife in his hand, sort of like all those who have let pedophiles run loose in the yeshivot, presumably on the assumption that just because a man abused children in the past, that doesn’t mean that he will continue to do so.
(I will return to the issue of sexual abuse in a future post, because readers might recall that I expressed doubt that any rabbis would ever join the Agudah’s proposed rabbinic panel to determine if an accusation warranted going to the police. See here. The Agudah has just acknowledged that it was impossible to form such a panel precisely because of the legal jeopardy it would place the rabbis in. See here. Since it looks like all the public pressure will lead to clergy being made mandated reporters, it will be interesting to see what the Agudah response will then be. Will they instruct their followers to follow the law or expect them to go to jail in order to avoid mesirah?)
Regarding Aflalo’s point mentioned earlier in this note that a rabbi has to know the situation of a community, I recently found a very interesting comment by R. Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev, Kedushat Levi ha-Shalem (Jerusalem, 1958), Likutim, pp. 316-317. He asks why we say תשבי יתרץ קושיות ואבעיות, that in Messianic days Elijah will answer all problems. Since Moses will be resurrected, and he is the giver of the Torah, why don’t we say that he will provide the answers? R. Levi Yitzhak explains that only one who is living in this world knows what the situation is and how the halakhah should be decided. This is not the case with one who is dead and has lost his worldly connection. This explains why Elijah will provide all the answers, as he never died and was always part of the world. Therefore, unlike Moses, Elijah is the one qualified to decide matters affecting us. The lesson here is obvious, especially for those who think that every issue must be decided in Israel by authorities who really have really no conception of how American Jews live.

[9] I can’t tell you how often I have been with people (usually at Shabbat meals) who go on about how backwards the Muslims are, the proof being how they treat their women. This is usually contrasted to Judaism, which puts women on a pedestal. As an example of this “backwardness” people have pointed out that in Saudi Arabia (which is only one Muslim country, mind you), women are not even permitted to drive. I never have the heart to point out that there are hasidic sects, less than an hour away from where we are, that also don’t allow women to drive.
[10] See Ma’amar Esther, printed together with Va-Ya’an Shmuel (n.p., 2001), vol. 4, p. 19 (third numbering).
[11] Messas’ responsum is analyzed by Avinoam Rosenack, “Dignity of the Congregation” as a Defense Mechanism: A Halakhic Ruling by Rabbi Joseph Messas,” Nashim 13 (2007), pp. 183-206. On p. 201 n. 41, he provides references to scholarly literature that discusses medieval Jewish women’s adoption of Muslim modes of dress.
[12] Contrary to what Messas assumes, as far as I know there is absolutely no evidence that Jewish women generally dressed like this in the Rabbinic period. The fact that the Mishnah specifies the Arabian Jewish women shows that only one specific group dressed this way.
[13] Since he mentions women’s voices, let me return briefly to my second to last post which dealt with kol isha. I neglected to note the pesak of R. Abraham Yaffe-Schlesinger, Be’er Sarim, vol. 2, no. 54, who sees it as obvious that a woman is permitted to sing in front of non-Jews.
In the post, I mentioned three Modern Orthodox high schools that allow young women to sing solos. I was informed that the North Shore Hebrew Academy also has to be added to this list. See here.
My correspondent further wrote: “I wanted to let you know that the son of Rabbi _____ (former president of the RCA [name deleted by MS]) told me that his father used to go to see Broadway shows based on the Psak of the Rav, who felt that if you couldn’t totally make out the face of the female singer it would be permitted.”
One of the commenters on the post called attention to R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin, Bnei Vanim, vol. 4, no. 7. In this responsum, he says a couple of things very relevant to the post. To begin with, he writes that it is permitted to listen to the singing of a single woman if this is something that you are used it, and it will not be sexually arousing.
לע”ד מדינא מותר לשמוע קול שיר של בתולות אם רגיל בקולן שאז שמיעתן זהה לראיית שערן
This is the same viewpoint I quoted from R. Jacob Pardo, who distinguishes between married women, whose singing is always forbidden, and single women whose singing is only forbidden if it is sensual song. Also noteworthy is that R. Henkin rejects the viewpoint found in various aharonim that a post-pubescent female (i.e., niddah) has the same status as a married woman, and her singing is therefore forbidden:
וכיון שנהגו להקל בשערן של בתולות ולא חלקו בין נדות לטהורות הוא הדין בקולן, כל שהוא רגיל בו ואינו מהרהר.
He concludes his responsum by stating that if the song is not sensual, and the woman’s voice is heard on the radio or out of a loudspeaker, since this is not really “her” voice it is permissible to listen. What this apparently means is that any time a woman sings into a microphone, it is permissible to listen to her (assuming her very appearance is not arousing). This basically gets rid of the entire kol isha prohibition in our time (when the songs aren’t sensual), since today every event with a woman singer uses a microphone. Based on R. Henkin’s responsum, all Modern Orthodox high schools could once more return to having young women sing solos (even though I am certain that this is not his intention).. Here is his conclusion (emphasis added):
ולא מפני שאנו מדמים נעשה מעשה להתיר לכתחילה לשמוע קול אשה המזמרת לפננו לבדה, אבל בשירה ברדיו או דרך רמקול וכו’ שעל פי דין אינה קולה ממש ובצירוף עוד טעמים [ראה להלן מאמר כ’] ובתנאי שהשירה אינה של עגבים נראה פשוט להקל.
In Bnei Vanim, vol. 2, p. 211, he quotes his grandfather as even permitting watching a woman sing on the television, because again, the voice is not her actual voice. He also notes that his grandfather later expressed doubt on this point.
שמעתי מפיו הקדוש שקול אשה על הרדיו אינו נקרא קול אשה ומותר לשמעו [בפעם הראשונה ששאלתי אותו על זה אמר בפירוש שגם בטלביזיה אינו נקרא קול אשה ומותר לשמעו, אבל כשחזרתי ושאלתי אותו על זה אחרי זמן לא היה ברור אצלו – ואולי מפני חולשתו]

In vol. 4, p. 30, he refers to a woman singing the national anthem, which based on his argumentation would, I think, be quite easy to permit, even watching on television. As he notes, this is not the sort of song that arouses sexual thoughts:
ורבים מקילים לשמוע קול שיר של אשה ברדיו כשהיא אינה לפניהם, ואינה שרה שירי עגבים אלא שירי מולדת וכיוצא באלה ורחוק שיהרהרו בה ואינו תלוי באם מכירה או לא.
I would also like to share an email I received from Benny Hutman which relates to R. Moshe Feinstein’s opinion. In my post I called attention to a responsum of R. Moshe Feinstein which I claimed cast doubt on R. Mordechai Tendler’s assertion that according to R. Moshe kol isha is entirely situational and depends on whether or not someone is aroused.
Benny writes:

It seems to me that R’ Moshe must hold that the prohibition on Kol Isha depends on whether a person is used to hearing women sing. R’ Moshe holds like the Aruch Hashulchan that nowadays one can say Shema in front of a woman with uncovered hair because the reality is that we are constantly confronted with such hair and therefore it is no longer arousing. For this to make sense we need to understand the Gemara in Berachos when it says “sear b’isha erva” to mean that hair could be ervah, meaning I would have thought that ervah by definition could only refer to parts of her body, ka mashma lan that hair despite not being skin can be ervah. However it won’t actually be ervah unless it is normally covered. Since the language of the Gemara is exactly the same (as is the source) it follows that the gemara means that Kol Isha could be ervah despite not physically being attached to the body at all. However, just as R’Moshe says that our constant exposure to uncovered hair makes sear no longer be ervah, the same logic dictates that if someone has been listening to women sing all his life kol isha will not be ervah. Arguably it can also be situational so that if someone has been going to the opera all his life such singing will not be kol isha, but pop music will be. It seems to me that this heter should apply to almost all Modern Orthodox men. This would explain how Rabbi Tendler could say that R’ Moshe held that the prohibition is situational despite R’ Moshe’s tshuva apparently holding it is forbidden. It depends on who is asking the question and the time, place and manner of the singing.

Finally, R. Hayyim Amsalem, in his recently published Derekh Hayyim, p. 45, states that it is a well known fact that great Torah scholars and chief rabbis have in the past been present at various official events that included women singing, and they did not walk out. As he explains:
הם ידעו לחשב שכר “מצוה” כנגד הפסדה, ושגדול כבוד הבריות שדוחה לא תעשה שבתורה (ברכות דף יט ע”ב), שלא לדבר על העלבת פנים העלולה להגרם, והרי המלבין פני חברו ברבים אין לו חלק לעוה”ב (בבא מציעא דף נט ע”א), יתכן וכשהיו יכולים להשתמט מלהופיע בטקס כזה שידעו מראש שיכלול גם שירת נשים היו נמנעים מלהופיע, אבל היכן שההכרח אלצם להשתתף הרי שמעולם לא נשמע רינון אחריהם על השתתפותם, או על העלבת המעמד ביציאה פומבית.
[14] Rosenack writes (“Dignity”, p. 190): “Messas’s remarks allow the inference that he knew of an ancient tradition—either from the days of his own ancestors, or from the time of the talmudic sages—of women going up to the Torah, before the institution of the [talmudic] prohibition discussed here.” This is incorrect. What Messas is doing in this responsum is describing what he imagines the situation was like in the era that women received aliyot, and why this was later prohibited. There is not even the hint that he knew of any ancient tradition in this regard, and he certainly did not.
In terms of women’s aliyot, in my post here I called attention to R. Samuel Portaleone’s opinion that in theory it is permitted to give a woman an aliyah in a private synagogue. Without knowing of Portaleone’s view, R. Yehuda Herzl Henkin concluded that ”if done without fanfare, an occasional aliyyah by a woman in a private minyan of men held on Shabbat in a home and not in a synagogue sanctuary or hall can perhaps be countenanced or at least overlooked.” “Qeriat Ha-Torah by Women: Where We Stand Today,” Edah Journal 1:2 (5761), p. 6. (Henkin also assumes that women’s aliyot on Simhat Torah are permissible.) There is another source in this regard that has been overlooked by those arguing for women’s aliyot in so-called partnership minyanim (I hate this term!). R. Moses Salmon, Netiv Moshe (Vienna, 1899), p. 24 n. 112, sees no problem with women getting aliyot today. As mentioned already, women are denied aliyot because of kevod ha-tzibur. Yet according to Salmon, since today men who get aliyot no longer read from the Torah, kevod ha-tzibur is no longer a concern. This was all theoretical for Salmon, as no one in his Hungarian town was dreaming of calling women up to the Torah, but from the standpoint of pure halakhah, he saw no objection. He also claims that according to Maimonides, women can be counted in a minyan. See ibid., n. 111. Here is the page from Salmon.
[15] The same approach is adopted by R. Matzliah Mazuz, Ish Matzliah, vol. 1 no. 10. He writes:
לע”ד כבוד ציבור דהתם, אינו כפשוטו, אלא לישנא מעליא, ועיקר הכוונה כאותה ששנינו בסוכה דנ”א תיקון גדול

[16] See here and here.
[17] See here and here. See also his Shulhan Arukh ha-Mekutzar, vol. 6, pp. 246ff., and here for a placard signed by some leading Sephardic rabbis.
[18] See here. He thinks that a woman who refuses to say good morning to her male neighbor is demonstrating proper tzeniut.
[19] See here.
[20] Incidentally, in no. 328:2, he states that there is no longer a problem taking medicine on Shabbat, since people today do not grind their own medicine.

  • [21] See the numerous explanations of these passages in R. Moshe Zuriel, Leket Perushei Aggadah, ad loc. Tosafot, ad loc., quotes one opinion that does take the passage literally, but this opinion assumes that the am ha’aretz spoken of is a violent person suspected of murder



Kalir, False Accusations, and More

Kalir, False Accusations, and More
by Marc B. Shapiro
1. I now want to return to Kalir and the criticism of me. To recap, I had earlier mentioned how Artscroll originally correctly identified Kalir as post-tannaitic, but later changed what it wrote in order to be in line with Tosafot’s opinion that he was a tanna. Some think that it is wrong to criticize Artscroll by using academic methodology instead of judging them by traditional sources, since they don’t recognize the academic approach.
My first response is that this is nonsense and a textbook example of obscurantism. If there is evidence of a certain fact, one can’t say that it is only a fact if it appears in some “traditional” source, and therefore one who ignores this evidence gets a pass.
Furthermore, when it comes to Kalir one can also date him using traditional sources.[1] One of these sources is quite fascinating. Whether there is any truth to the event described, I can’t say, but the fact that a traditional source dates him after the tannaitic era is what is important for us at present. This shows that Tosafot’s dating is not the only traditional source in this matter. The source I refer to is the medieval R. Ephraim of Bonn who states that the paytan Yannai, who is usually dated to the seventh century but could even be a few centuries earlier (but still post-tannaitic), was the teacher of Kalir.
R. Ephraim notes that Yannai was not the most kind of teachers and he was jealous of his student Kalir, showing that the Sages’ statement that people are jealous of all, except for a son and student (Sanhedrin 105b), can have exceptions. In order to deal with his problem, Yannai decided to terminate Kalir, with extreme prejudice of course. He therefore put a scorpion in Kalir’s sandal which took care of matters. R. Ephraim reports that because of this murder, in Lombardy (Italy) they refused to recite one of Yannai’s hymns.[2]
אוני פטרי רחמתים. ואמר העולם שהוא יסוד ר’ יניי רבו של רבי אלעזר בר קליר, אבל בכל ארץ לומברדיאה אין אומרים אותו, כי אומרים עליו שנתקנא בר’ אלעזר תלמידו והטיל לו עקרב במנעלו והרגו. יסלח ה’ לכל האומרין עליו אם לא כן היה.
R. Ephraim is the source for this report and as you can see from his final words, he took the report very seriously and literally, declaring that if it wasn’t true then those who spread this rumor were in need of repentance. Israel Davidson, however, claims that to take the report literally would be “absurd”, and the report of the scorpion is merely an “idiom, undoubtedly Oriental in origin, for expressing unfriendliness.”[3] The problem with this is, as we have seen, R. Ephraim and the community of Lombardy did take the report literally, so why should Davidson, living well over a thousand years after the supposed event, know more than people who lived in medieval times?[4] It is one thing to say that the murder never occurred, but that doesn’t mean that the story as told was not meant to be understood literally, and there is every reason to assume that it means what it says. If it happened, it would hardly be the first murder committed by a Jew. Thus, although the story is almost certainly a legend, our reason for making this determination is not because it is impossible to imagine one Jew doing such a thing to another.
Another important source is found in R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, Mahazik Berakhah, Orah Hayyim 112 (end). Azulai, as we all (should) know, had a keen bibliographical sense, and knew rabbinic history very well. After mentioning how Tosafot and the Rosh state that Kalir was really the tanna R. Eleazar ben Shimon,[5] the Hida quotes R. Isaac Luria as follows:
דהפייטן היה בו ניצוץ מנשמת ר’ אלעזר ברבי שמעון.
In other words, it is not that Kalir was actually a tanna, but that his soul was connected with R. Eleazar ben Shimon. I presume that this is an attempt to preserve the old tradition identifying the two, while at the same time recognizing that historically they were two different people. We find the same approach among many commentaries that deal with aggadic statements that make all sorts of identifications, of what can perhaps be called the rabbinic “conservation of people.” In other words, there is a tendency to identify biblical figures with other known biblical figures, such as Elijah with Pinhas and Harbonah, Hagar with Keturah, Pharaoh with the King of Nineveh, Yocheved and Miriam with Shifrah and Puah, Mordechai with Malachi[6] and Ezra, Tziporah with the Cushite woman,[7] Balaam with Laban, Daniel and Haman with Memukhan, to mention just a few.[8]
I don’t think people should be surprised that also among traditional commentators one can find the viewpoint that these identifications are not to be taken literally[9]—kabbalists are often inclined to see these texts as referring to reincarnation[10]—and some modern scholars have spoken of these identifications as examples of what they term “rabbinic fancy.” Some of these identifications are so far-fetched that I have no doubt that R. Azariah de Rossi and R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes are correct that the Sages who expounded them never intended them to be taken literally.[11]  Although I haven’t investigated the matter, I assume one would find the same tendency to non-literal interpretation when dealing with Aggadot that insert historical figures into other biblical episodes, e.g., Balaam and Jethro becoming Pharoah’s advisors, or when the Aggadah identifies spouses, e.g., Caleb marrying Miriam and Rahab marrying Joshua (and having daughters with him[12]).
2. In the previous post I quoted what the late R. David Zvi Hillman said in the name of R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin regarding Saul Lieberman. Some people were incredulous, and this raises the question of how reliable Hillman was and if he would distort things for ideological purposes.[13] I have spoken about him before, and I reproduced his defense of the Frankel edition of the Mishneh Torah not citing R. Kook.[14] Despite his strong ideological leanings, as of yet I haven’t found any evidence that he would purposely distort. My sense is that he was quite honest in his scholarship (and the issue with R. Zevin and Lieberman might have been something he misunderstood or perhaps R. Zevin wasn’t clear in what he said. It simply is impossible now to reconstruct events.)
Even though I believe that Hillman was honest in his scholarship (i.e., not intentionally distorting as is so often the case with haredi writers), we do find that his ideology led him to unfounded conclusions. These are not intentional distortions because he really believed what he was saying, but they are distortions nonetheless. Here is one example.
In 1999 a memorial volume appeared called Ohel Sarah Leah. Beginning on p. 246 is an article by Hillman dealing with R. Joseph Saul Nathanson’s view of the International Date Line. In this article, he deals with a letter by R. Zvi Pesah Frank published by R. Menachem M. Kasher. He believes that Kasher added material to the letter so as to align it with his own viewpoint. The fact that Kasher published the letter in 1954, almost seven years before R. Zvi Pesah Frank’s death, does not deter Hillman from his argument. Other than Hillman, I think everyone realizes that if you are going to forge something in another’s name, you don’t do it when they are still alive![15] We can thus completely discount Hillman’s argument and see it as an ideologically based distortion.
Despite this defense of Kasher, it must also be pointed out that there are serious questions about the reliability of some things he published. In Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy I mentioned R. Eliezer Berkovits’ claim that the Weinberg letter Kasher published was not authentic. Berkovits clearly thought that Kasher forged it, but when I pressed him to say so openly, he wouldn’t. All Berkovits would say is that Weinberg never wrote such a letter, and it was fraudulent. When I asked, “So R. Kasher forged it?” he replied that he wasn’t going to speculate about this, and would only say that the letter did not exist. Being that Kasher claimed that Weinberg wrote the letter to him, this means that Berkovits was accusing him of forgery, but for whatever reason did not want to say so openly.
I have a 1982 letter from Berkovits to another rabbi, and in this letter he is not as circumspect as he was with me. Here he pretty much states that Kasher forged the letter “le-shem shamayim.”
בענין מו”ר הגאון זצ”ל אני בטוח שהוא מעולם לא כתב אותם הדברים שהרב כשר מוסר בשמו בנועם. אדרבה יראה לנו את מכתבו של מו”ר זצ”ל. לפני כשנה כתבתי לו בדואר רשום ובקשתי בעד צילום או העתק של מכתבו של הרב וויינברג זצ”ל. עד היום לא קבלתי תשובה ממנו. מבטחני שהדברים שנאמרו ושנכתבו בשמו אינם אמיתייים. בעונותינו הרבים הגענו למצב שגם אנשים ירא שמים וכו’ מורים היתר לעצמם בכל מיני ענינים כשהם חושבים שכל כוונתם לשם שמים היא. והוא רחום יכפר וכו’.
In the recently published Genazim u-She’elot u-Teshuvot Hazon Ish, pp. 263ff. the unnamed editor also levels serious accusations against Kasher, in a chapter entitled הזיוף החמור והנורא. He puts forth a series of claims designed to show that another letter Kasher published on the International Date Line, this time a posthumous letter from R. Isser Zalman Meltzer, is also forged. I have to say that in this example, unlike the one dealt with by Hillman, there is at least circumstantial evidence, but no smoking gun. The most powerful proof comes from Kasher himself in which he tells of a meeting with the Hazon Ish and how at that meeting he told the Hazon Ish about the letter he received from R. Isser Zalman in opposition to the Hazon Ish’s position. Yet the letter Kasher publishes from R. Isser Zalman is dated from after the Hazon Ish’s death. There is clearly a problem here, but more likely than assuming forgery is that Kasher was simply mistaken in his description of his visit with the Hazon Ish. Let’s not forget that this element of the account of his visit was published thirty-three years after the event, and it is possible that Kasher didn’t recall everything that was said. The followers of the Hazon Ish have indeed always claimed that his description of his visit, in Ha-Kav ha-Ta’arikh ha-Yisraeli (Jerusalem, 1977), pp. 13-14, is not to be relied upon. Since his own recollection of his visit is the strongest evidence in favor of Kasher forging R. Isser Zalman’s letter, it is not very convincing.
In the previous paragraph I wrote that “this element” of Kasher’s account was published thirty-three years after his visit, so let me explain by what I mean by that. In Ha-Pardes, Shevat 5714, p. 30, soon after the Hazon Ish’s death, he originally published his account. Only when he later published his Kav ha-Ta’arikh ha-Yisraeli did he mention that he told the Hazon Ish that he received letters from R. Zvi Pesah and R. Isser Zalman, and this point is mentioned after his description of his visit. In his original description he mentions nothing about receiving letters, only that R. Zvi Pesah told him his opinion and R. Isser Zalman agreed with this. I think what likely happened is that in the passing decades Kasher forgot that the letters he received only arrived after the Hazon Ish’s death. As mentioned, if you look at what he wrote right after the death of the Hazon Ish, he doesn’t mention any letters, and he even states explicitly that he didn’t have anything in print from R. Zvi Pesah. I think this shows that while Kasher’s recollection was not exact, there is no evidence that he forged the letter.
I do, however, have to mention that in the 1977 version of the visit Kasher adds something that is not in the original recollection and must therefore be called into question. In the original recollection he reports that the Hazon Ish began reading Kasher’s work on the dateline and then said that he is tired and asked if he could hold on to the work to read later. In the 1977 version Kasher then adds the following, which shows the Hazon Ish as not very committed to his own position, a point which is at odds with everything else we know about the Hazon Ish and the dateline:
והוסיף בזה הלשון: נו, יעדער מעג (קען) זיך האלטען ווי ער פערשטעהט. [כל אחד רשאי (יכול) להחזיק כפי הבנתו].
Kasher was also involved in another problematic episode related to his book Ha-Tekufah ha-Gedolah, which is dedicated to showing the messianic significance of the State of Israel. In the book, pp. 374ff., he includes a proclamation urging participation in the Israeli elections. This proclamation is signed my many rabbinic greats and states that the State of Israel is the beginning of the redemption. This is a very significant document and is often referred to, because among the signatories are some who were never identified with Religious Zionism.
But is the document authentic? Zvi Weinman has shown (and provided the visual evidence) that a number of the rabbis signed a document that did not mention anything about athalta di-geula but instead referred to kibutz galuyot.[16] In Kasher’s book, their names are listed together with those who signed the document referring to athalta di-geula, even though they never agreed with this formulation. This would appear to be a Religious Zionist forgery (unless it is simply a careless error), although it is impossible to know whether Kasher was responsible for this or if he was misled by someone else.
If it can ever be proven that Kasher was indeed responsible for a forgery, there is still a possible limud zekhut for this type of behavior (and I mentioned it in a prior post): If you are convinced of the correctness of your position, it is not hard to construct an argument, based on traditional Jewish sources, that false attribution and even forgery is permissible. In the book I am currently working on I bring all sorts of examples of this which I think will be very distressing for readers, as it is in complete opposition to what most of us regard as basic intellectual honesty.
Returning to the recently published Genazim u-She’elot u-Teshuvot Hazon Ish, the editor also makes an outrageous accusation and I am surprised that no one has yet publicly protested. The canard is leveled at Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog, whose saintliness was universally acknowledged even by those who opposed his Zionist outlook. It was R. Herzog who in early 1940 flew to London and was able to convince the English government to grant a number of visas for Torah scholars. He was thus directly responsible for saving the lives of, among many others, R. Velvel Soloveitchik and R. Shakh.[17] This fact alone should have been enough to prevent any scurillous accusations directed against R. Herzog.
On pp. 226ff. there appears a 1941 letter, dated 24 Elul, from R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin to the Hazon Ish asking him about the problem of Shabbat in Japan for those who had escaped the Nazi clutches. R. Zevin wrote to the Hazon Ish at the request of R. Herzog, who said that only two people in the Land of Israel were expert in this matter, R. Tukatchinzky and the Hazon Ish.
There is a good deal that can be said about R. Zevin’s letter and the Hazon Ish’s response, but that is not my concern at present. Yet I must at least mention that the editor provides another letter from the Hazon Ish in which he expresses his displeasure that R. Zevin’s Torah writings had appeared in the newspaper Ha-Tzofeh. According to the Hazon Ish, these should have been published as a special booklet, as it is inappropriate to publish Torah articles in a newspaper that in the end is used to wrap food in. He also mentions that Ha-Tzofeh itself is not suitable, referring obviously to its Religious Zionist outlook. (R. Zevin would, over his lifetime, write hundreds of articles for Ha-Tzofeh, many of which have not yet been collected in book form.)
Also noteworthy is that in his reply to R. Zevin the Hazon Ish raises the possibility that the viewpoint of the rishonim would have to be rejected if it turns out that they were mistaken in their understanding of the metziut.

העומד עדיין על הפרק הוא אם טעם הראשונים ז”ל הוסד על המחשבה שאין ישוב בתחתית הכדור, ואז נקח עמידה נועזה לנטות מהוראת רבותינו ז”ל ולעשות למעשה היפוך דבריהם הקדושים לנו ולכל ישראל, או שאין לדבריהם שום זיקה לשאלת ישוב התחתון.
(In a later letter, quoted on p. 231, we see a different perspective.) In R. Zevin’s letter he mentions why the issue of Shabbat in Japan was so pressing. R. Herzog had recently received a telegram from Kobe, Japan, asking on what day the Jewish refugees should fast.[18] Here is a copy of the telegram, as it appears in David A. Mandelbaum’s Giborei ha-Hayil, vol. 1.





















































Genazim u-She’elot u-Teshuvot Hazon Ish, p. 227, makes the astounding assertion that this telegram was a scheme cooked up by the Chief Rabbinate (i.e., R. Herzog).This would enable R. Herzog to call a gathering a great Torah scholars at which time he could push them to accept his opinion in opposition to the viewpoint of the “gedolei Yisrael.” It is hard to imagine a more outrageous accusation directed against a man of unquestioned piety such as R. Herzog.

Quite apart from the slander I have just pointed to, the volume also contains a good deal of ideologically based distortion, which is why it is noteworthy that it not only includes the letter from the Hazon Ish to Saul Lieberman (p. 330) that I published in Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox,,[19] but even identifies him in the following respectful way:
המכתב נשלח לבן דודו פרופ’ ר’ שאול ליברמן ז”ל מחה”ס תוספתא כפשוטה, ירושלמי כפשוטו וש”ס.
Considering how Lieberman is persona non grata in the haredi world, I find this identification, as well as mention of his books, nothing sort of remarkable.[20]
In fact, the story gets even more interesting. A couple of months ago volume two of Genazim u-She’elot u-Teshuvot Hazon Ish appeared. Before I was able to get a copy, people emailed me to let me know that this volume contained a lengthy letter from Lieberman to the Hazon Ish. (I thank Ariel Fuss for sending me a copy of the letter.) It appears on pages 207-209 and is really fascinating. Leaving aside the talmudic analysis, the end of the letter shows the different outlooks of these cousins. We see that the Hazon Ish had criticized Lieberman for referring to Prof. Jacob Nahum Epstein as mori ve-rabbi. Lieberman didn’t understand why the Hazon Ish found this objectionable, since Epstein was a pious Jew and Lieberman learnt many things from him, “true Torah and not the path of the maskilim but that of our teachers of blessed memory, who search for the truth in the words of Hazal, in all possible ways, and many obscure places in the Jerusalem Talmud were explained to me precisely through this approach.”[21]
Lieberman then turns to another criticism of him by the Hazon Ish, that he was not devoting himself adequately to his Torah study. It is hard to know what to make of this critique, as who was more devoted to his studies than Lieberman. Lieberman defends himself from this accusation, noting:
אני לפעמים נופל על הספסל מחוסר אונים מרוב התאמצות ויושב אני לפעמים כמה ימים על סוגיא אחת עם ראש חבוש.
Here is Lieberman’s grave, in the Sanhedria cemetery. Note who he is buried next to. (As I mentioned in Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox, according to Chaim Herzog, Lieberman was R. Herzog’s closest friend. It is therefore fitting that he be buried next to R. Jacob David.)
3. Regarding the last post, a number of people emailed me pointing out other “immodest” title pages and also learned women that I didn’t mention. I thank all who emailed. Many of the other title pages I knew about and might refer to at a future time, but the post was specifically concerned with censorship of title pages, and this explains the ones I cited. One of the commenters did refer to a title page that I did not know, from a 1731 Hamburg manuscript. See here (the rest of the Haggadah has other interesting pictures). If you ever needed an example of how what we today regard as unacceptable is not necessarily how people hundreds of years ago viewed matters, this is it.[22]
Regarding learned women, a great deal has obviously been written about this and I don’t see it as my purpose to simply repeat what others have written elsewhere. I hope that in the prior post (and indeed in all my posts), people find new material and learn things that they wouldn’t know from elsewhere, even those who are experts in the various topics.
Since the matter has been raised again, le me mention something that I originally was going to write about. At the last minute I took it out, as I was convinced (by both a scholar who will remain anonymous and Prof. Shamma Friedman) that I was in error.
Tosefta Ketubot 4:7 (and the parallel passage in J. Ketubot 5:2) reads:
נושא אדם אשה . . . על מנת שתהא זנתו ומפרנסתו ומלמדתו תורה.
It then follows by telling us that R. Joshua son of R. Akiva arranged exactly this sort of marriage. I think that if you show this passage to people, and cover up the commentaries, they will translate it to mean that a man can marry a woman on the condition that she will take care of his physical sustenance “and will teach him Torah.” (This is how Neusner translates in his Tosefta and Yerushalmi translation, and is also found in some academic articles.) Yet all of the traditional commentaries understand this text to mean that the woman provides the financial support her husband needs in order that he is able to study Torah on his own. For a while I assumed that this was an apologetic understanding by the commentators, and we know that the Talmud does offer a few examples of learned women. Yet as mentioned, I was convinced of my error.[23] In email correspondence, Friedman also called attention to other unusual Hebrew formulations which don’t mean what they literally say. For example, Yevamot 13:12 states: בא על יבמה גדולה תגדלנו. Yet this does not mean that she has to raise the boy, but only that she has to wait until he is of age to give her a divorce. He also pointed to Nazir 2:6 (and see also 2:5) which uses the language of הרי עלי לגלח חצי נזיר and this has nothing to do with shaving the Nazir.
One final point I would like to make about learned women is that before drawing any conclusions about their knowledge, we must be sure that we are not dealing with ghost writers. For example, Dov Katz, Tenuat ha-Mussar (Jerusalem, 1982), vol. 1, p. 242 n. 30, refers to the wife of R. Aryeh Leib Horowitz (the son of R. Israel Salanter) as a “learned woman” based on the introduction she wrote to her deceased husband’s Hayyei Aryeh (Vilna, 1907). Here is the text.

I can’t prove it, but I am very confident that someone wrote this on behalf of the wife, who was a traditional rebbetzin, not a maskilah.

4. In preparation for the trip I am leading to Italy in July (we still have room for some more people, and also for the August trip to Central Europe), I thought it would be helpful to read the letters of R. Ovadiah Bartenura. Right at the beginning of the first letter[24] I found something very interesting. I immediately suspected that this passage would be omitted from a translation directed towards the Orthodox masses. I checked, and lo and behold, the passage is indeed deleted. Here is the text:

Note how R. Ovadiah testifies that while the Jews in Palermo were careful about not drinking non-Jewish wine, which was noteworthy since elsewhere in Italy Jews routinely consumed this, their sexual morality and observance of the Niddah laws left something to be desired. He claims that most young women there were already pregnant at their wedding.
Here is how the page appears in the translation by Yaakov Dovid Shulman:
This text was censored even though the preface to the book states: “In publishing these letters in their entirety, including the critical comments made by Rabbi Ovadiah Bartenura of those people and practices of which he disapproved, the assumption is made that these criticisms were written to instruct the reader and not to denigrate any individuals.” As you can see, the letter has not been published in its entirety, and if one were to go through the text carefully, perhaps some other deleted passages would be discovered.[25]
5. I have done six posts on R. Kook and from email I receive I know that some people want me to return to this. I plan to, but I still have a few more posts to do before I get to that. In the meantime, however, I want to inform readers that a new volume of R. Kook’s writings has just appeared. It is called Ginzei ha-Rav Kook and I thank R. Moshe Zuriel for drawing my attention to it. My sense is that this volume does not have much importance, as much of it, and maybe even the majority, has already appeared in other collections, particularly the Shemonah Kevatzim. I was able to determine this using the R. Kook database, which except for the most recently published material includes all of R. Kook’s writings.
I did find one passage (p. 87, no. 85) which I am pretty sure has not yet appeared, even in the most recent writings. It relates back to a point I already called attention to in R. Kook, namely, his privileging of the pious masses over the Torah scholars in certain ways. One rabbinic text that would appear to oppose R. Kook’s conception is the famous Avot 2:5: ולא עם הארץ חסיד. See how R. Kook neutralizes this text, pointing out that there are a lot of things more important than being a hasid. Here is R. Kook, a member of the rabbinic elite, nevertheless insisting that the am ha-aretz can have just as much holiness as the Torah scholar, be visited by Elijah, and even have ruah ha-kodesh:
“ולא עם הארץ חסיד”. אבל מה שהוא למעלה מהחסידות, כמו קדושה וענוה ותחית-המתים וגילוי אליהו ורוח-הקודש, מפני גודל קדושתם הם שוים לכל נפש. כי כל לבבות דורש ד’, ואחד המרבה ואחד הממעיט ובלבד שיכוון לבו לשמים, ומעיד אני עלי שמים וארץ, אמר אליהו, בין איש בין אישה, בין עבד בין שפחה, בין נכרי בין ישראל, הכל לפי מעשיו רוח הקודש שורה עליו. וכיון שלא יצאו שפחה ונכרי מכלל רוח-הקודש, קל-וחומר שלא יצא עם-הארץ שהוא מזרע קודש, מעם ה’ וצבאותיו אשר הוציא ממצרים להיות לו לעם נחלה כיום הזה, סגולה מכל העמים.
(The reference to Elijah is from Tanna de-Vei Eliyahu, ch. 9.)
P. 112, no. 104, returns to a theme I have also dealt with, that study of halakhic details can be problematic for a mystical personality such as R. Kook.[26] Yet he adds that this is still the job of the righteous ones, and we can see here an autobiographical reflection.
אף על פי שלימודם של המצוות המעשיות בדקדוק קיומם מכביד לפעמים הרבה על הצדיקים הגדולים השרויים תמיד באור המחשבה העליונה, מכל מקום מתוך כח היראה העליונה שבלבבם, מתגברים הם גם על שפע קדושתם, ועוסקים בתורה ובמצוות במעשה ובדקדוק, אף על פי שהם צריכים למעט על ידי זה את אורם העליון.
Can we also see an autobiographical reflection on p. 114, no. 106, where R. Kook speaks about the righteous who want the world to recognize their greatness and holiness?
לפעמים מתגלה בצדיקים גדולים תשוקה גדולה, שיכירו הכל את מעלתם ושיאמינו בקדושתם. ואין תשוקה זו באה כלל משום גסות הרוח או אהבת כבוד המדומה, כי אם מפני החשק הפנימי של התפשטות האור הטוב שבהם על חוג היותר רחב האפשרי. וזהו מעין התשוקה של הופעת החכמה על ידי המצאות טובות וספרים טובים שכשהיא אידיאלית היא עומדת בנקודה היותר עליונה שבאור הנשמה הא-להית.
He then returns to the difficulty the Tzaddik has with halakhic particulars (p. 115):
ישנם צדיקים גדולים כאלה, שהם למעלה מכל שרש הדינים, ועל כן אינם יכולים ללמוד שום דבר הלכה. וכשהם מתגברים על טבעם ועוסקים בעומקא של הלכה, מתעלים למעלה גדולה לאין חקר, והם ממתקים את הדינים בשרשם.
[1] R. Yaakov Yisrael Stoll, in his recently published Segulah (Jerusalem, 2012), pp. 50ff., takes it as a given that Kalir is post-tannaitic.
[2] Israel Davidson, Mahzor Yannai (New York, 1919), p. xlix                     
[3] Ibid, p. xxv.
[4] Unless R. Ephraim was misinformed about Lombardy, this practice must have changed at some time because we know that in Lombardy the piyut was recited on Shabbat ha-Gadol. See R. Moshe Rosenwasser, Le-Hodot u-le-Halel  (Jerusalem, 2001), p. 379. As Rosenwasser points out, R. Ephraim is also the source for the story of R. Amnon of Mainz writing U-Netaneh Tokef.
[5] This is impossible as in one of his hymns he tells us that is father’s name is Jacob. See R. Simon Federbush, Ha-Lashon ha-Ivrit be-Yisrael u-ve-ha-Amim (Jerusalem, 1967), pp. 70-71.
[6] This identification explains how in Italy Jews with the Hebrew name Mordechai were sometimes given the vernacular name Angelo (= מלאכי). See Cecil Roth, Venice (Philadelphia, 1930), p. 168.
[7] This identification is rejected by Rashbam. See his commentary to Num. 12:1. Regarding Rashbam’s comment, see the lengthy discussion of Lockshin in his translation. While Rashbam rejects the notion that the Cushite is Tzipporah, he apparently has no problem repeating the legend  that “Moses reigned in the land of Cush for forty years and married a certain queen [from there].” He knew this legend from the work Divrei ha-Yamim de-Moshe Rabbenu, although as Lockshin mentions, it is also found in more “kosher” sources, such as Yalkut Shimoni. Ibn Ezra also cites the legend of Moses ruling in Cush in his commentary to Num. 12:1, despite the fact that in his commentary to Ex. 2:22 he writes:
Do not believe what is written in the book called the History of Moses. I will give you a general rule. We should not rely on any book not written by prophets or by the sages who transcribed traditions passed on to them. We definitely should not rely on these books when they contradict reason. The same applies to the Book of Zerubavel, the Book of Eldad ha-Dani, and similar compositions.
In a previous post I discussed Rashi’s understanding of the word Cushite, and how it is not to be taken literally. Ibn Ezra does take it literally (and still thinks that it refers to Tziporah). As with Rashi, he assumes that Cushites are not very attractive and explains that Miriam and Aaron, who spoke negatively about Moses, “suspected that Moses refrained from sleeping with Tzipporah only because she was not beautiful.” (Commentary to Num. 12:1).
Regarding the Cushite woman, I found something strange in R. Joseph Solomon of Posen’s Yesod Yosef (Munkacs, 1907), p. 8b. This is how he explains Aaron’s and Miriam’s talk against Moses on account of the Cushite he married (Num. 12:1):
מרים ואהרן רצו לתלות בוקי סריקי במשה ולהטיל מום בקדשי’ לפי דברי התרגום שני שפירש אשה כושית מלכה כוש שטימא את ברית קודש ובעל בת אל נכר וכל ביאה שאינה בהיתר נקרא הוצאת זרע לבטלה
R. Joseph Solomon goes on to explain why Aaron and Miriam were mistaken in their judgment.
[8] See R. Joseph Zekhariah Stern, Zekher Yehosef, Orah Hayyim no. 121 (p. 34a). R. Shmuel Avraham Adler, Aspaklaryah, vol. 27, s.v. shem, pp. 119ff
[9] R. Menahem Azariah of Fano acknowledges that when it comes to Elijah-Pinhas, most scholars understood this literally. Yet he rejected this position, perhaps because it would require Pinhas to have lived at least 350 years.) See Asarah Ma’amarot, Hikur Din section 4 ch. 18:
ואף על פי שיש מרבותינו אומרים בפשיטות פינחס הוא אליהו אין הדבר כמחשבת המון החכמים שפינחס לא מת ושקיים בעצמו שנוי השם.
[10] Opponents of gilgul had argued that if this was an authentic Jewish doctrine, certainly the Talmud would have mentioned it. R. Elijah Benamozegh argues that these texts, identifying various people as one and the same, are the proof that the talmudic sages indeed accepted reincarnation. He assumes that for many of these passages, where the different eras of the individuals mentioned is an obvious problem, no one with any intelligence can believe that the Talmud meant these passages to be understood literally. The meaning must therefore be reincarnation. See Eimat Mafgia, vol. 2, p. 2b:
איככה יוכל האיש לא טח עיניו מראות להניח כי לבן הארמי אשר חי בימי יעקב אבינו הוא עצמו בלעם הרשע, אשר היה בימי בני בניו האחרונים . . . וחירם שהיה בימי שלמה הוא אשר היה בימי יחזקאל . . . כיצד נוכל לייחס הבנתם הפשטית לחכמינו הקדושים אשר גם לפי דעות המנגדים לא יתכן לתלות בהם חסרון ושגעון כ”כ עצום כאשר כל אחד יראה בדמיונות האלה.
There are two books entitled Eimat Mafgia, one by Benamozegh and the other by R. Moses ben Ephraim of Brody (Warsaw, 1888). Both of them are directed against R. Leon Modena’s Ari Nohem. The title comes from Shabbat 87b: אימת מפגיע על ארי
[11] Meor Einayim, ch. 18; Mevo ha-Talmud, ch. 21, in Kol Sifrei Maharatz Chajes, vol. 1. In other words, the peshat is not literal. According to traditional commentaries, we find plenty of examples of this in the Bible also. Thus, when the Torah speaks of God’s outstretched arm, Maimonides insists that the peshat is that these words are not to be understood literally. Many have argued that even according to the peshat “an eye for an eye” is not to be understood literally. I think that most people today who read the book of Job will conclude, as did Maimonides, that the peshat is that it is not a historical tale.
[12] See Megillah 14b, Tosafot, Megillah 3b s.v. melamed, Maharsha, Hidushei Aggadot, Eruvin 63b (why does he quote Tosafot and not the Talmud in Megillah14b?), R. Samuel Strashun’s note to Eruvin 63a.
[13] Some people might have been led to thinking this because his letter was published in Yeshurun, which has in the past published articles that have engaged in censorship and ideological distortion. In the most recent volume, Nisan 5772, which also contains the Hillman letter, we find another instance of the disrespect for Torah scholars that is routine, and almost required, in haredi literature, and which in previous posts I have provided numerous examples of. (I refer obviously to Torah scholars not in the haredi camp.) On pp. 456-467,  there are letters from five deceased rabbis to R. Avraham Zeleznik. Four of them have the acronym זצ”ל put after their name. The only one who doesn’t merit זצ”ל, and instead is given ז”ל , is the Zionist R. Avraham Shapira (who incidentally was by far the most distinguished Torah scholar of the five.) R. Shapira also wasn’t provided with a short biography, presumably because then his position as Rosh Yeshiva of Merkaz ha-Rav and Chief Rabbi of the State of Israel would have to be mentioned.
[14] See here. With regard to Hillman, in this post I misstated his genealogy. Prof. Shlomo Zalman Havlin wrote to me as follows:
יש לתקן: הגרד”צ אינו נכד של הגרמ”מ חן הי”ד כפי שכתב [ע”פ האיזכור מבטאון חב”ד שהשתבש.] הוא בנו של ד”ר אשר הילמן בעל משרד רו”ח בת”א, נינו של הגרד”צ, רבה הידוע של צ’רניגוב, אביו של הרמ”מ. אגב, גם המשוררת זלדה [מישקובסקי] היתה נכדת הגרד”צ מצ’רניגוב, ואף אחיינית האדמו”ר האחרון מליובאוויטש.מאחיו של הגרמ”מ היה הרב אברהם חן, שהיה סופר מעולה, מחבר ‘במלכות היהדות’, קונטרס יפה ומרגש על אביו  
הגאון. היה רבה של שכונת בית הכרם [כמדומה שהיתה זו שכונה שלא נזקקה לרב]. מעניין לעניין, כדאי להוסיף, כי לגרמ”מ דובר בשעתו שידוך עם בתו של ר’ חיים מבריסק. לצ’רניגוב בא שליח להכיר את החתן המיועד, ולפי התיאורים ששמעתי ,הוא היה כנראה הגאון ר’ זלמן סענדר, אביו של הגאון ר’ אברהם בעל דבר אברהם, ורבה של קובנה [הוזכר ג”כ במאמר זה]. וכמה נשים ממשפחת הגרד”צ נסעו לבריסק להכיר את הכלה ומשפחתה. בגלל שיבושי הדואר הרוסי, חשבו בצ’רניגוב שאין תשובה, בעוד התשובה החיובית נדדה לעיר אחרת, והשידוך כידוע לא יצא אל הפועל. אגב, שמעתי, כי הנשים ממשפחת הגרד”צ כששבו אמרו, שלאור המסופר על גדולת ר’ ‘חיים וכו’, הרי כאשר שמעוהו בתפילת ערבית, אמרו, אצל אבא רואים יותר אפילו ב”אשר יצר
[15] See the response to Hillman by R. Ephraim Greenbaum (Kasher’s grandson), in Ohel Leah Sarah, pp. 942-943.
[16] Mi-Katovitz ad Heh be-Iyar (Jerusalem, 1995),  pp. 130ff.
[17] See A. Bernstein et al., Yeshivat Mir: Ha-Zerihah be-Fa’atei Kedem (Bnei Brak, 1999), vol. 1, pp. 218-219.
[18] One of my high school teachers was with the Mir yeshiva during the War. He told us how on Yom Kippur some people actually fasted for two days, eating pahot mi-ke-shiur after the first day so that they would be able to fulfill both the opinion of R. Herzog and the rabbis aligned with him as well the Hazon Ish’s view.
Fasting two days on Yom Kippur is actually not new. Ibn Ezra records how certain people did it in medieval times. He minces no words about what he thinks of them. See Sefer ha-Ibur, ed. Halbertam, pp. 4a-b:
ואם טען טוען הלא אתם אומרים כי שני ימים טובים צוו לעשות קדמונינו בעבור הספק למה לא קבעתם צום כפור שני ימים גם יש טפשי עולם מחברינו שיתענו שני ימים ואני אראה להם שלא יועיל להם תעניתם כי הוא שוא ושקר.
[19] This letter was previously printed in Sefer Zikaron Tuv Moshe (Bnei Brak, 2008), p. 253, and here too Lieberman is referred to respectfully. This book does not inform the reader where it found this letter, although Genazim u-She’elot u-Teshuvot Hazon Ish informs us that its source is Sefer Zikaron Tuv Moshe. I know that a number of copies of Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox made their way around Bnei Brak, and one of them apparently found its way to the editor of Sefer Zikaron Tuv Moshe.
[20] With reference to the Hazon Ish’s family, in Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox I noted how the Steipler stated that one should not study Lieberman’s books since he left the Orthodox world. Last year a new edition of the Tosefta was published and included some questions to R. Chaim Kanievsky. In the original question the authors spoke negatively about Lieberman. When they gave the page with their question and R. Hayyim Kanievsky’s reply to the typist (who might even have been a woman) they added the word להשמיט with reference to the comment about Lieberman. Perhaps this was because they didn’t want people to know about the family connection between the Hazon Ish and Lieberman. However, the typesetter didn’t understand their intention and included the word להשמיט, thinking that this word was to be added to the text. Here is the page (click to enlarge, or see detail directly below it).

Portions of the letter of the Hazon Ish to Lieberman, referred to on this page, are also found in Kovetz Iggerot Hazon Ish, vol. 3, no. 2.

I just mentioned women typists, which is common in the haredi world (Kitvei R. Weinberg vol. 1, which was printed by a Satmar company, was typed by a woman.) Let me now turn to what I think is an example of a woman translator, and I thank Elchonon Burton for bringing this text to my attention. Here are two pages from R. Shakh’s Lule Toratekha.

In it he mentions how the Hafetz Hayyim famously referred to Adam ha-Kohen as yemah shemo. Adam ha-Kohen was the pen name of Abraham Dov Baer Lebensohn, and for more on how the Hafetz Hayyim viewed him, see S.’s post here. Note how R. Shakh adds שר”י  to Adam ha-Kohen’s name. This stands for שם רשעים ירקב (“the name of the wicked shall rot” – Prov. 10:7) and is only applied to the most wicked.

Here is how this passage appears in Artscroll’s English translation, Rav Shach on Chumash.

The translator did not understand what שר”י means and assumed that it was part of his name, creating a previously unknown maskil, Adam HaKohen Sherry. Based on this error, I assume that the initial translation was done by a woman who knew modern Hebrew but not “rabbinic code.” The final translator, who is a talmid hakham, probably just revised the initial translation. Now knowing anything about the Haskalah, when he saw the name Sherry it didn’t raise a red flag leading him to check the original. S. pointed out to me that in the Wikipedia entry for Yimach Shemo, Adam HaKohen Sherry also makes an appearance.

[21] While on the topic of Lieberman, let me note that he has an unknown article in Otzar ha-Hokhmah 10 (1934), pp. 83-84, signed ש. ל.. In this short article he criticizes some of what R. Leopold Greenwald wrote about the Jerusalem Talmud. I refer to this article as “unknown” because I have never seen anyone refer to it, and it is not found in Tuvia Preschel’s bibliography of his writings included in Sefer ha-Zikaron le-Rabbi Shaul Lieberman, ed. Shamma Friedman (New York and Jerusalem, 1993).
 [22] After writing these words I saw that the title page of this haggadah was included in Leon Wieseltier’s article in the most recent Jewish Review of Books (Spring 2012), which is presumably where the commenter saw it. See here. See also this post regarding a different Haggadah, and see also Dan’s post here.
Here are some other pictures that I think people will find interesting. They appear in R. Leon Modena’s Tzemah Tzadik (Venice, 1660). This is not found on hebrewbooks.org but is on Otzar ha-Hokhmah (at least for now). This particular copy was originally part of Elkan Nathan Adler’s collection. (Adler used for his middle name the name of his father, R. Nathan Adler, chief rabbi of England. This was not unusual. To give another example, R. Samson Raphael Hirsch’s father’s name was Raphael.) Here is Adler’s book plate. His Hebrew name was Elhanan.
From Tzemah Tzadik, here is an illustration showing love of people.
Here is one showing love of man and wife.

Here is an “immodest” picture showing mermaids, which Modena, like so many others of his time, believed in.

Modena’s name does not appear on the title page of Tzemah Tzedek, but he reveals his authorship at the beginning of ch. 1, where first letters of the first sixteen words read: יהודה אריה ממודינא

Here is the page.

[23] He had already corrected Tal Ilan in this regard. See “A Good Story Deserves Retelling – The Unfolding of the Akiva Legend,” Jewish Studies Internet Journal 3 (2004), p. 85 n. 96.
[24] Darkhei Tziyon (Kolomea, 1886), pp. 5a-b
[25] As part of my preparations for the trip I have also been reading Elliot Horowitz’ many important articles on Italy. Not long after finding the censored text I saw that Horowitz had already discussed this passage and showed that there is indeed a history of omitting and distorting it. See “Towards a Social History of Jewish Popular Religion: Obadiah of Bertinoro on the Jews of Palermo,” Journal of Religious History 17 (1992), pp. 140ff. While the examples Horowitz discussed are motivated by a Victorian style of writing, the example I give is probably motivated by a desire to shield the masses from the knowledge that even in pre-Reform Europe violation of halakhah was in many places a common phenomenon. It never ceases to amaze me how little knowledge of history some otherwise very intelligent people have, which I guess means that the censorship and rewriting of history is having an effect. Not long ago I was with someone who had spent a number of years in yeshiva, and he really believed that in 19th century Eastern Europe the porters and wagon drivers were all great talmidei hakhamim whose free time was devoted to mastering Shas.
[26] See also Tomer Persico, “Ha-Rav Kook: Al Tzadikim Gedolim ve-Yishrei Lev – be-Ma’alah ha-Hasagah ha-Mistit,” Moreshet Yisrael 5 (2008), available here.


Post-script by S. of On the Main Line:

Two points may be of further interest.

1) Regarding the Western Askenazic custom of using the father’s name as a middle name ala  the aforementioned R. Hirsch and Elkan Nathan Adler, E. N.’s two older half brothers also used  their father’s name, Nathan, as middle names; there was Marcus Nathan Adler, best known for his edition of Benjamin of Tudela’s Travels. In addition, Chief Rabbi Herman Adler also used it as a middle name, especially in his earlier years. In his university matriculation record from 1856 he is listed as “Hermann Nathan Adler.”

2) In addition to the coded acrostic self-reference by the author of Zemach Zedek in the opening lines referred to above (‘יושר האהבה וכו), R. Yehuda Aryeh Modena also refers to himself in the opening lines of the hakdamat ha-mekhaber: נודע ביהודה אלקים ובישראל אריה שאג.




The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Some Remarks On Aristotle, Dante Alighieri, Immanuel of Rome, R. Moshe Botarel and Bertrand Russell

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: Some Remarks On Aristotle, Dante Alighieri, Immanuel of Rome, R. Moshe Botarel and Bertrand Russell
by: Yitzhak, of בין דין לדין.
For nearly a millennium, the name “Aristotle” has resonated within Jewish culture (as within European culture generally) in a way difficult for we moderns to fully grasp. Not merely a philosopher (or even the Philosopher, as he is often designated), he represented (accurately and justly, or otherwise) a weltanschauung, or even a cluster of them: rationalism, scientism, materialism, skepticism, atheism. In this essay, we discuss a miscellaneous variety of perspectives toward Aristotle found in our tradition.

R. Moshe Botarel

R. Baruch Halevi Epstein makes the odd claim that Aristotle is esteemed by the Kabbalists, citing R. Moshe Botarel as swearing to his great love of the Philosopher, and bestowing superlative encomiums upon him:
ובכלל קנה לו אריסטו מקום חשוב בין … המקובלים, עד אשר אחד מגדולי החכמה הזאת, רבי משה בוטריל (ספרדי), בפירושו לספר יצירה (כ”ו ב’) מושיבו לאריסטו “בעדן גן החיים” ואומר:
חיי ראשי, אני אוהבו אהבה שלמה, כי היה אב בחכמה, ובהרבה ממאמריו הוא מתאים עם דעת רבותינו, ומעוצם שכלו הבהיר גזר משפטים ודברים צודקים, וכבר אמרו חז”ל חכם עדיף מנביא, וזה האיש היה סגולת הפלוסופיא, שלכל טענה הביא ראיה, ואם הוא יוני, השתדל בכל זאת לקיים אופן האחדות הממשלת קונו, וחכמת הפלוסופיא הטהורה קשורה בחכמת הקבלה
I have been unable to locate this particular passage within R. Moshe Botarel’s commentary, although he certainly writes quite warmly of Aristotle throughout, and he even insists that not only is philosophy not incompatible with תורת משה, it is actually essential for the understanding of Kabbalah, since “by G-d, the wisdom of philosophy is connected to the wisdom of Kabbalah like a flame to a coal”:
אמר משה כבר התבאר כי ידיעת מהות הדבר וידיעת מציאות הם שני דברים מתחלפים ולכן לא יכנס שום אדם בזה הפרד”ס שלא עיין בחכמת הפילוסופיא כי הא-להים חכמת הפילוסופיא נקשרה בחכמת הקבלה כמו שלהבת בגחלת.

והיום ראיתי לבני ציון היקרים שדלת זאת החכמה לפניהם ננעלת וידמה לעם ציון שאם יחקרו בחכמת הפילוסופיא ישימו תורת משה פלסתר ודרך רמיה ואין זה כי תורתנו הקדושה נקראת פלוסופיא הטהורה …[1]

R. Epstein neglects to mention that R. Moshe Botarel was a most colorful and dubious character; from his Jewish Encyclopedia article:

He studied also medicine and philosophy; the latter he regarded as a divine science which teaches the same doctrines as the Cabala, using a different language and different terms to designate the same objects. He extols Aristotle as a sage, applying to him the Talmudic sentence, “A wise man is better than a prophet”; and he censures his contemporaries for keeping aloof from the divine teachings of philosophy. … 

He believed in the efficacy of amulets and cameos, and declared that he was able to combine the names of God for magical purposes, so that he was generally considered a sorcerer. He asserted that by means of fasting, ablution, and invocation of the names of God and of the angels prophetic dreams could be induced. He also believed, or endeavored to make others believe, that the prophet Elijah had appeared to him and appointed him as Messiah. In this rôle he addressed a circular letter to all the rabbis, asserting that he was able to solve all perplexities, and asking them to send all doubtful questions to him. In this letter (printed by Dukes in “Orient, Lit.” 1850, p. 825) Botarel refers to himself as a well-known and prominent rabbi, a saint, and the most pious of the pious. Many persons believed in his miracles, including the philosopher Ḥasdai Crescas.

The author of the “circular letter”[2] was indeed not lacking in self-esteem:

האדנא אנא משדרנא לכל רבניא דישראל להחזיק בתורת משה גולת האריאל מצד חכמתנו המפורסמת הרמה והנשגבה שהבורא יתברך נתנה לנו מצד אהבה. אנחנו גוזרים את כל אחי הרבנים שבכל עיר ועיר לשלוח אל כבודנו כל הספיקות שהם מסופקים, כי יש לאל ידנו להתיר כל ספק ממעמקים, ואי לא עבדי הכי אנא מזמנא להו קמי קודשא בריך הוא ליום דינא אשר ארזים לא עממוהו.
אנא הוא היושב על כסא ההוראות למופת ולאות, המפורסם ברבנים זה כמה שנים, והוא באחד המיוחד מסנהדרי גדולה העומדת בלשכת הגזית במקדש הקדוש והמקודש החסיד שבחסידים, כבר נשלמו לו עשרה נסיונות, ליה אנחנו מודים, ראש תוכני ישראל וגאולת אריאל, משפטיו אמת לגדולי אומות העולם, מי הקשה וישלם.
משה בוניאק בוטריל[3]

As noted in a thread on ספרים וסופרים, in addition to a megalomaniac, the standard scholarly appraisal of R. Moshe Botarel considers him an egregious and incredibly brazen forger, attributing entire Kabbalistic works that he has actually made up out of whole cloth to various Babylonian Geonim and other early authorities. Prof. Simha Assaf declares that of those (particularly Kabbalists, mostly in thirteenth century Southern France) who have done this, our author is first and foremost:
בין אלו שיחסו לגאונים וראשונים דברים שלא היו ולא נבראו תופס החכם הידוע ר’ משה בוטריל מקום ראש וראשון. בפירושו לספר יצירה הוא מביא דברים מ”ספר הנקוד הגדול אשר חברו רב אשי בבבל והוא נמצא היום בישיבתינו” (דף מ’ ע”ב), ומספר הנקוד “שכתב הרב ר’ אהרן המקובל הגדול ראש ישיבת בבל” (דף ז’ א’; כ”א ב’) ומה ש”כתב הרב המקובל הגדול ר’ אהרן ראש ישיבת בבל בספרו הנקרא ספר הפרדס” (דף ז’ א’; י”ב ב’; כ”ו ב’; ל”ג א’; ל”ח א’ ועוד) כן הוא מזכיר כמה פעמים את ספר הקמיצה לרב האיי (דף כ”ח ב’; ל”ב ב’; מ’ ב’; מ”ג ב’) ומיחס לו גם ספר בשם “קול ד’ בכח”; הוא מביא גם מה ש”כתב רטרונאי (כנראה רב נטרונאי) בספר התרשיש” (י”ג א’), ובמקום אחר הוא מביא פירוש שנאמר על ידי “רב נחשון ריש מתיבתא בשאלתא דבני בבל”, וזה הוא רק חלק קטן מן המחברים והחבורים הבדויים שהוא מביא בפירושו לספר יצירה וביתר כתביו.
והנה עד כאן חשבנו שבוטריל הלך בדרך הזאת רק בשדה הקבלה, שבה לא היה מהלך יחידי כי הלכו בה גם אחרים לפניו ולאחריו, אולם מסר לי חברי פרופ’ שלום שבכתב יד הוואטיקאן מספר441 מצא מאמר פילוסופי משלו שכלו מזויף ומביא בו חבורים פילוסופיים שלא באו לעולם, וכן מצא בכתב יד מוסאיוב שבירושלים קטע גדול מספר בלתי ידוע של בוטריל המלא מאמרי אגדה בדויים. ועתה נראהו בקונטרוס שלפנינו כשהוא מוציא מתוך גנזיו גם תשובות שהוא מיחסן לגאוני בבל המפורסמים, תשובות שחותם יד בוטריל טבוע בהן.[4]

As briefly noted in the aforementioned Jewish Encyclopedia article, among R. Moshe Botarel’s putative accomplishments is the seduction of Rav Hasdai Crescas to belief in his extraordinary piety, and perhaps even his pseudo-Messiahship; a commenter on ספרים וסופרים criticizes R. Binyamin Shlomo Hamburger, author of משיחי השקר ומתנגדיהם, for glossing over R. Moshe Botarel’s full resume – “Kabbalist, Messiah, forger” – and for neglecting to mention a warm letter of support for him authored by R. Hasdai Crescas:

מאידך, דבר תימה היה לי שלא נשתנה ממהדו”ק למהדו”ב [של הספר “משיחי השקר ומתנגדיהם”]. בספר מוגש פרק המוקדש לדמותו של משיח שקר אלמוני שהופיע בספרד אחרי שנת ה’קנ”א. הפרק המעורפל מוגש תחת הכותרת ‘הדרשה שלא הובנה’, ומוגש תחת דמותו של ר’ חסדאי קרשקש כ’גדול הדור’ ההוא. שמו של המשיח המסתורי נקרא ‘משה’ (ללא שם לוואי), ומובלט המשפט הבא: ‘לא ברור מה ידע ר’ חסדאי עצמו מכל ההשתוללות המשיחית וכיצד התייחס אליה…”. ואני הקטן, נבזה וחדל אישים, תמה כולי: הכיצד אישתמיט מידיעתו של הרבש”ה [ר’ בנימין שלמה המבורגר] רשמו המלא של ר’ משה בוטריל, המקובל, המשיח, הזייפן? האם יצירתו על ס’ היצירה שנתקבלה בספרות ישראל טיהרתו? זאת ועוד אקרא, הכיצד נשמט מכתב הבשורה-תמיכה החם לבוטריל שפרסם הרח”ק ונדפס בבית המדרש ליעלינק (חדר שישי מסוף עמ’ 141 ואילך)? ואדיין נקפני לבי לומר שמא לא ראה הרבש”ה לידיעה זו, אולם מצאתי בספרו של יוסף שפירא ‘בשבילי הגאולה’ (ירושלים תש”ז, ח”א קמד-קמז), אשר כל המעיין יראה את השימוש הרב שעשה בו הרבש”ה, פירוט ארוך ומדוייק של כל השתשלות פרשת בוטריל ותמיכת הרח”ק. וצ”ע.

Rav Hasdai Crescas’s letter, as printed by R. Adolf Jellinek, in which he endorses R. Botarel as having experienced גילוי אליהו, demonstrated dramatically true prophecy, and surviving being hurled into a flaming furnace, exiting שמח וטוב לב:

ויהי בשנת חמשת אלפים ומאה וחמשים ושלש לבריאת עולם ויהי בשנת אלף ושלש מאות וחמש ועשרים לחרבן בית המקדש שיבנה במהרה בימינו, כסליו בהיותנו בקורפו, הגיעו אלינו כתבים ששלח ר’ חסדאי קרשקש מטוניס

דעו לכם כי מעניי הוא אמת והקהל הקדש קהל בורגיש שהיא בספרד כתבים כי הוא אמת כי העידו עליו כי ממשה ועד משה לא קם כמשה ובא אליו אליהו הנביא ז”ל ומשח אותו בשמן המשחה ואמר לו ישראל כי בניסן יהיו לכם אותות ומופתים גדולים, ומלך ספרד שלח אחריו השר שלו ואמר שיתן לו אות אמר לו שילך לביתו וימצא בנו מת, הלך לביתו ומצא בנו מת כמו שאמר לו הנביא, חזר ואמר לו המות והחיים מהשמים, אמר לו שיחזור עוד לביתו וימצא שמתה אשתו, וכן היה חזר אליו עוד, אמר כשילך לביתו ימות גם הוא בעצמו וכן היה. והמלך היה מדבר עם הנביא והנה כסהו הענן והיו שומעין המלאך שהיה מדבר עמו תוך הענן ועשה אותות ומופתים גדולים בעיניהם והעידו עליו ממשה ועד משה לא קם כמשה. אחר כן אמר לו המלך אם הוא אמת כי אתה נביא אני רוצה לשרוף אותך באש וכן עשה. מיד צוה ועשו כבשן אש והסיקוהו ג’ ימים וג’ לילות והשליכוהו בתוך כבשן האש ויצא ממנו שמח וטוב לב. באותה שעה ראו ויאמינו בד’ ובמשה עבדו ונביאו, והוא היה בן חמש ועשרים שנה ומתחלה לא היה יודע לשון הקדש בצחות ועתה שלמדו אליהו הנביא זכור לטוב יודע לדבר לשון הקדש והוא ענו ושפל רוח צדיק וישר שלם במדותיו חכם ועשיר וגבור וחסיד בכל מעשיו נקי כפים ובר לבב בן טובים זרע אנשים ראוי והגון לשכן עליו רוח ד’.[5]
Here is Prof. Ya’akov Zussman’s sarcastic, dismissive appraisal of R. Moshe Botarel, in the course of which he notes that “that critical thinker, Hida” already dismissed him as unreliable, and that R. Moshe Botarel’s forgeries – “the fruit of a diseased imagination” – are sometimes crude and ridiculous, but occasionally “nearly perfect” efforts.
כל המכיר אף במקצת את כתבי בוטריל שבדפוס ושבכתבי יד, יצדיק ללא פקפוקים את הערכתו של אותו חכם בקורתי, החיד”א, שרשם באחת מרשימותיו הפרטיות “רמ בוטריל אין לסמוך עליו”. הערכה זו על בוטריל חוזרת ונישנית ביתר חריפות אצל חוקרים שונים שטיפלו בפירושו לספר יצירה – החבור היחידי משל בוטריל שהיה מוכר להם. לאחר פרסום תשובות הגאונים המזויפות של בוטריל על ידי אסף וגילוי חבוריו האחרים בכתבי-יד, לא נותרו כל ספקות בטיבו ודרכו של חכם זה. ואם עוד היו מחברים שפקפקו במסקנות ברורות אלו והעלו נסיונות כושלים להכשרתו של בוטריל וגם סמכו על “מקורותיו”, יבואו ויעמדו על מידת מהימנותם של “מקורות” אלה מתוך הקונטרסים שלפנינו. …
אין למצא בקטעים שלפנינו זיופים גסים כדוגמת הזיופים שבשאר חבורי בוטריל. אין כאן ציטטות מעוררות גיחוך, כדוגמת ספר כבוד ד’ לר’ אליעזר הקליר בו מוזכר רב האי גאון, שבפירושו לספר יצירה. אין גם זיופים כמו “תשובות הגאונים” של בוטריל שעליהן כתב הרב אסף: “להוכיח את זיופן של התשובות האלו חושב אני למיותר וכו’ זיופן מוכח מתוכן”. בקונטרסים שלנו כמעט ואין בין עשרות הציטטות אפילו אחת שאפשר היה לומר עליה מראש וללא בדיקה שזיופה מוכח מתוכה. בוטריל הגיע בקונטרסים אלה לדרגת זייפן מעולה כמעט. הוא משלב בזהירות דברי חכמים אלה באלה, מעתיק מפה ומשם קטעי דברים שאמנם כתב אותם חכם שבשמו מובאים הדברים, אבל הוא מוסיף בהם תוספות שלא היו ולא נבראו, ולעתים קשה לעמוד על הגבול שבין האמת לבין פרי הדמיון החולני.[6]
Prof. Zussman notes that R. Moshe Botarel, in the קונטרסים that he (Zussman) is publishing, in contradistinction to the rest of his heretofore known writing, displays an uncharacteristically great deference and humility; he conjectures that the reason for the change lies in the fact that the author was attempting to find favor in his correspondent’s eyes, or to the turn for the worse that his [social] standing and position had taken:
בניגוד לכתביו האחרים, שהיו ידועים לנו עד כה, כתוב בוטריל בקונטרסים אלה בהכנעה ובענוה רבה. אין כאן כל רמז לשגעון הגדלות הבולט בכתביו האחרים …
אפשר, שאת השינוי בנימת כתיבתו יש לתלות בעובדא שבוטריל כותב כאן אל חכם שהוא משתדל למצוא חן בעיניו. ייתכן גם שיש קשר בין הצטנעותו לבין מצבו ומעמדו שהשתנו לרעה.[7]

Prof. Zussman concludes his article by remarking on the uniqueness – unparalleled, to his knowledge, in medieval literature – of the portrait that these קונטרסים constitute: a Talmudically knowledgeable תלמיד חכם, who, in the course of apparently serious engagement with the Talmudic endeavor, invents and forges sources at will, completely gratuitously, a fact that is instructive as to the author’s strange character:

קונטרסים אלה מהוים תעודה מיוחדת במינה שעד כמה שידוע לי אין דומה לה בספרות של ימי הבינים. לפנינו תלמיד חכם בעל ידיעות בספרות התלמודית אשר אגב עיסוק רציני כביכול בשקלא וטריא של הלכה ממציא ומזייף מקורות להנאתו, ללא כל צורך או מטרה איזו שהיא. עובדא זו יש בה כדי ללמדינו על אישיותו המוזרה של המחבר.[8]

Immanuel of Rome

Returning to R. Epstein, he proceeds to contrast R. Botarel’s positive view of Aristotle with the scathing one of Immanuel of Rome, who relates encountering Aristotle in Hell, to where he [Aristotle] has been condemned for believing in the eternity of the world [he is in the company of, among many others, Plato, who is there for his belief in the existence of universals]:
וָאֹמְרָה אֵלָיו אַחֲלַי לְפָנֶיךָ אֲדֹנִי לְהַרְאוֹתֵנִי הָעוֹלָם שֶׁכֻּלּוֹ אָרֹךְ וְהַתֹּפֶת אֲשֶׁר מֵאֶתְמוֹל לָרְשָׁעִים עָרוּךְ וּלְהוֹדִיעֵנִי מְקוֹם תַּחֲנוֹתִי אַחֲרֵי מוֹתִי וְאֵי זֶה בַּיִת אֲשֶׁר תִּבְנוּ לִי וְאֵי זֶה מָקוֹם מְנוּחָתִי מָשְׁכֵנִי וְאָנֹכִי אָרוּצָה אָחֲרֶיךָ וַיֹאמַר אָנֹכִי אֶעֱשֶׂה כִדְבָרֶיךָ וַיִּשְׁאָלֵנִי הָאִישׁ וַיֹּאמַר אָנָה נִפְנֶה בָרִאשׁוֹנָה וָאַעַן וָאֹמַר הַתֹּפֶת יִהְיֶה רִאשׁוֹן וְהָעֵדֶן יִהְיֶה בָאַחֲרוֹנָה
וַיֹאמֶר הָאִישׁ אֵלָי הַחֲזֵק בִּכְנַף מְעִילִי וֶאֱחֹז בּוֹ וְרֶוַח בֵּינִי וּבֵינְךָ לֹא יָבוֹא כִּי הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר שָׁם נִפְנֶה הִיא אֶרֶץ חֲרֵרִים צַלְמָוֶת וְלֹא סְדָרִים נִקְרָא בִשְׁמוֹ עֵמֶק הַפְּגָרִים וָאַחֲזִיק בִּכְנַף מְעִילוֹ וְרַעְיוֹנַי חֲרֵדִים וּמִדֵּי לֶכְתֵּנוּ הָיִינוּ יוֹרְדִים וְהַדֶּרֶךְ דֶּרֶךְ לֹא סְלוּלָה מְעוֹף צוּקָה וַאֲפֵלָה וָאֳרָחוֹת עֲקַלְקַלּוֹת לֹא רָאִינוּ שָׁם רַק בְּרָקִים וְקוֹלוֹת וְלֹא שָׁמַעְנוּ רַק קוֹל כְּחוֹלוֹת וְצָרוֹת כְּמַבְכִּירוֹת וְקָרָאתִי שֵׁם הַיּוֹם הַהוּא יוֹם עֲבָרוֹת וּבָאַחֲרִית הִגַּעְנוּ אֶל גֶּשֶׁר רָעוּעַ וְתַחְתָּיו נַחַל שׁוֹטֵף וּכְאִלּוּ רוֹאָיו גּוֹזֵל וְחוֹטֵף וְאָז הֵחֵלָה נַפְשִׁי לְהִתְעַטֵּף וּבְרֹאשׁ הַגֶּשֶׁר שַׁעַר וְשָׁם לַהַט הַחֶרֶב הַמִּתְהַפֶּכֶת וַיֹאמֶר הָאִישׁ אֵלַי זֶה נִקְרָא שַׁעַר שַׁלֶּכֶת וְכָל אֲשֶׁר יִפָּרְדוּ מִן הָעוֹלָם וּבַתֹּפֶת יִהְיֶה מַחֲנֵיהֶם
דֶּרֶךְ הֵנָּה פְנֵיהֶם לֹא נָמוּשׁ מֵהֵנָּה שָׁעָה אַחַת אוֹ שְׁתַּיִם וְנִרְאֶה מִן הַחוֹלְפִים מִן הָעוֹלָם רִבּוֹתַיִם עַל פְּנֵי הָאָרֶץ כְּאַמָּתָיִם וְאֵיךְ יְנַהֲגוּם מַלְאֲכֵי מָוֶת אֶל אֶרֶץ צִיָּה וְצַלְמָוֶת אַחֲרֵי כֵן נִדְרֹשׁ אוֹתָם בִּשְׁחִיתוֹתָם וְתִרְאֶה מָה אַחֲרִיתָם וְאֵין לִתְמֹהַּ עַל עָצְבָּם וְעַל עֹצֶם רָעָתָם וּמַכְאוֹבָם כִּי דוֹר תַּהְפֻּכוֹת הֵמָּה בָּנִים לֹא אֵמֻן בָּם וְלָכֵן חַרְבָּם תָּבֹא בְלִבָּם וּבִהְיוֹתֵנוּ שָׁם יוֹשְׁבִים וְקוֹל חֲרָדוֹת מַקְשִׁיבִים וְהִנֵּה קוֹל כְּחוֹלָה שָמַעְנוּ וְהִבְהִילָנוּ קוֹל אוֹמְרִים אָבְדָה תִּקְוָתֵנוּ נִגְזַרְנוּ לָנוּ וְכַאֲשֶׁר קָרְבוּ אֵלֵינוּ רָאִינוּ מִשְׁלַחַת מַלְאֲכֵי רָעִים חוֹלְפִים יִסְחֲבוּ מִן הַפְּגָרִים לְמֵאוֹת וְלַאֲלָפִים וּבְעָבְרָם דֶּרֶךְ הַשַּׁעַר יֹאמְרוּ לְכָל אֶחָד מֵהֶם בֶּן אָדָם אֲשֶׁר מִזִּמְרַת הָעוֹלָם שָׂבָעְתָּ וֵאלֹהִים וַאֲנָשִׁים קָבָעְתָּ וְחוֹק הַמּוּסָר פָּרָעְתָּ הִנֵּה תָקִיא אֵת אֲשֶׁר בָּלָעְתָּ וְתִקְצֹר פְּרִי מַעֲשֶׂיךָ אֲשֶׁר זָרָעְתָּ הִנֵּה שְׂכַר פְּעֻלָתְךָ תִּהְיֶה מוֹצֵא הַנִּכְנָס יִכָּנֵס וְהַיּוֹצֵא אַל יֵצֵא וְהַנִּגְרָרִים וְהַנִּסְחָבִים בְּקוֹל מָרָה יִצְעָקוּ וְנַאֲקַת חָלָל יִנְאָקוּ בְּיָדְעָם כִּי רֹאשׁ פְּתָנִים יִינָקוּ וַיֹאמֶר אֵלַי הָאִישׁ הֲרָאִיתָ הַצֹּאן הָאוֹבְדוֹת אֲשֶׁר מַטָּרָה לְחִצֵּי הַתֹּפֶת עֲתִידוֹת עוֹד תָּשוּב וְתִרְאֶה בְקָרוֹב מִן הָאוֹבְדִים כְּכוֹכְבֵי הַשָּׁמַיִם לָרוֹב וְכַאֲשֶׁר הַגֶּשֶׁר עָבַרְנוּ בָּאנוּ בְּתַחְתִּיוֹת אָרֶץ וְכָל רוֹאַי יֹאמְרוּ לִי מַה פָּרַצְתָּ עָלֶיךָ פָּרָץ וְשָׁם רָאִינוּ מְדוּרָה גְדוֹלָה בְּאֶרֶץ מַאְפֵּלְיָה רְשָׁפֶיהָ רִשְׁפֵּי אֵשׁ שַׁלְהֶבֶת יָהּ מְדוּרָתָהּ אֵשׁ וְעֵצִים הַרְבֵּה לַיְלָה וְיוֹמָם לֹא תִכְבֶּה וַיֹאמֶר אֵלַי הָאִישׁ זֹאת הַמְּדוּרָה אֲשֶׁר כְּנַחַל גָּפְרִית בּוֹעֵרָה הִיא לַנְּפָשׁוֹת אֲשֶׁר הֶעֱמִיקוּ סָרָה וְאִם תַּחְפֹּץ לָדַעַת שֵׁם הָרְשָׁעִים אֲשֶׁר בָּה וְאֹדוֹתָם הִתְבּוֹנֵן בִּשְׁמוֹתָם הַחֲקוּקִים בְּמִצְחוֹתָם כַּאֲשֶׁר הִתְבּוֹנַנְתִּי בְּתוֹךְ הַמְּדוּרָה רָאִיתִי וְהִנֵּה שָׁם אַנְשֵׁי סְדוֹם וַעֲמוֹרָה …
שָׁם אֲרִיסְטוֹטְלוֹס בּוֹשׁ וְנֶאֱלָם עַל אֲשֶׁר הֶאֱמִין קַדְמוּת הָעוֹלָם שָׁם גַּלְיָאנוּס רֹאשׁ הָרוֹפְאִים עַל אֲשֶׁר שָׁלַח יַד לְשׁוֹנוֹ לְדַבֵּר בְּמֹשֶׁה אֲדוֹן הַנְּבִיאִים שָׁם אַבּוּנָצָר יוֹמוֹ רָד יַעַן אָמַר כִּי הִתְאַחֲדוּת הַשֵּׂכֶל הָאֱנוֹשִׁי עִם הַשֵּׂכֶל הַנִּפְרָד הוּא מֵהַבְלֵי הַזְּקֵנוֹת וְעַל אֲשֶׁר הֶאֱמִין גִּלְגּוּל הַנְּפָשׁוֹת הָאֲנוּנוֹת הַנִּכְרָתוֹת מִקֶּרֶב עַמָּם וְאָמַר כִּי יַחֲלִיפוּם אֲנָשִׁים עוֹמְדִים בִּמְקוֹמָם שָׁם אַפְלָטוֹן רֹאשׁ לַמְּבִינִים יַעַן אֲשֶׁר אָמַר כִּי לַיְחָשִׁים וְלַמִּינִים יֵשׁ חוּץ לַשֵּׂכֶל מְצִיאוּת וְחָשַׁב דְּבָרָיו דִּבְרֵי נְבִיאוּת …[9]

Dante Alighieri

R. Epstein does not note that the above is from Immanuel’s pale imitation of his contemporary and countryman Dante Alighieri’s immortal original, which is rather more humane, at least to Aristotle and numerous other classical Greek intellectuals, whom he classifies as “beings of great worth”, but nevertheless places in Limbo, the first circle of Hell,[10] for although

they did not sin. Though they have merit,
that is not enough, for they were unbaptized,
denied the gateway to the faith that you profess.
‘And if they lived before the Christians lived,
they did not worship God aright. …
‘For such defects, and for no other fault,
[they] are lost, and afflicted but in this,
that without hope [they] live in longing.’
Ruppemi l’alto sonno ne la testa
un greve truono, sì ch’io mi riscossi
come persona ch’è per forza desta;
e l’occhio riposato intorno mossi,
dritto levato, e fiso riguardai
per conoscer lo loco dov’ io fossi.
Vero è che ‘n su la proda mi trovai
de la valle d’abisso dolorosa
che ‘ntrono accoglie d’infiniti guai.
Oscura e profonda era e nebulosa
tanto che, per ficcar lo viso a fondo,
io non vi discernea alcuna cosa.
“Or discendiam qua giù nel cieco mondo,”
cominciò il poeta tutto smorto.
“Io sarò primo, e tu sarai secondo.”
E io, che del color mi fui accorto,
dissi: “Come verrò, se tu paventi
che suoli al mio dubbiare esser conforto?”
Ed elli a me: “L’angoscia de le genti
che son qua giù, nel viso mi dipigne
quella pietà che tu per tema senti.
Andiam, ché la via lunga ne sospigne.”
Così si mise e così mi fé intrare
nel primo cerchio che l’abisso cigne.
Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare,
non avea pianto mai che di sospiri
che l’aura etterna facevan tremare;
ciò avvenia di duol sanza martìri,
ch’avean le turbe, ch’eran molte e grandi,
d’infanti e di femmine e di viri.
Lo buon maestro a me: “Tu non dimandi
che spiriti son questi che tu vedi?
Or vo’ che sappi, innanzi che più andi,
ch’ei non peccaro; e s’elli hanno mercedi,
non basta, perché non ebber battesmo,
ch’è porta de la fede che tu credi;
e s’ e’ furon dinanzi al cristianesmo,
non adorar debitamente a Dio:
e di questi cotai son io medesmo.
Per tai difetti, non per altro rio,
semo perduti, e sol di tanto offesi
che sanza speme vivemo in disio.”
Gran duol mi prese al cor quando lo ‘ntesi,
però che gente di molto valore
conobbi che ‘n quel limbo eran sospesi. …
Poi ch’innalzai un poco più le ciglia,
vidi ‘l maestro di color che sanno
seder tra filosofica famiglia.
Tutti lo miran, tutti onor li fanno:
quivi vid’ ïo Socrate e Platone,
che ‘nnanzi a li altri più presso li stanno;
Democrito che ‘l mondo a caso pone,
Dïogenès, Anassagora e Tale,
Empedoclès, Eraclito e Zenone;
e vidi il buono accoglitor del quale,
Dïascoride dico; e vidi Orfeo,
Tulïo e Lino e Seneca morale;
Euclide geomètra e Tolomeo,
Ipocràte, Avicenna e Galïeno,
Averoìs che ‘l gran comento feo.
Io non posso ritrar di tutti a pieno,
però che sì mi caccia il lungo tema,
che molte volte al fatto il dir vien meno.[11]
A heavy thunderclap broke my deep sleep
so that I started up like one
shaken awake by force.
With rested eyes, I stood
and looked about me, then fixed my gaze
to make out where I was.
I found myself upon the brink
of an abyss of suffering
filled with the roar of endless woe.
It was full of vapor, dark and deep.
Straining my eyes toward the bottom,
I could see nothing.
‘Now let us descend into the blind world
down there,’ began the poet, gone pale.
‘I will be first and you come after.’
And I, noting his pallor, said:
‘How shall I come if you’re afraid,
you, who give me comfort when I falter?’
And he to me: ‘The anguish of the souls
below us paints my face
with pity you mistake for fear.
‘Let us go, for the long road calls us.’
Thus he went first and had me enter
the first circle girding the abyss.
Here, as far as I could tell by listening,
was no lamentation other than the sighs
that kept the air forever trembling.
These came from grief without torment
borne by vast crowds
of men, and women, and little children.
My master began: ‘You do not ask about
the souls you see? I want you to know,
before you venture farther,
‘they did not sin. Though they have merit,
that is not enough, for they were unbaptized,
denied the gateway to the faith that you profess.
‘And if they lived before the Christians lived,
they did not worship God aright.
And among these I am one.
‘For such defects, and for no other fault,
we are lost, and afflicted but in this,
that without hope we live in longing.’
When I understood, great sadness seized my heart,
for then I knew that beings of great worth
were here suspended in this Limbo. …
When I raised my eyes a little higher,
I saw the master of those who know,
sitting among his philosophic kindred.
Eyes trained on him, all show him honor.[12]
In front of all the rest and nearest him
I saw Socrates and Plato.
I saw Democritus, who ascribes the world
to chance, Diogenes, Anaxagoras, and Thales,
Empedocles, Heraclitus, and Zeno.
I saw the skilled collector of the qualities
of things — I mean Dioscorides — and I saw
Orpheus, Cicero, Linus, and moral Seneca,
Euclid the geometer, and Ptolemy,
Hippocrates, Avicenna, Galen,
and Averroes, who wrote the weighty glosses.
I cannot give account of all of them,
for the length of my theme so drives me on
that often the telling comes short of the fact.
Dante has not escaped the forces of political correctness; British newspapers have recently reported the call of Gherush92 for the Divine Comedy to be banned from classrooms or removed from school curricula, condemning it as racist, antisemitic, islamophobic, and homophobic (h/t to Prof. Eugene Volokh, who finds the idea “foolish”). Well, if Dante’s great epic ever does get banned, I suppose students can still encounter his vision via the computer game reimagination (in which I do not know if Aristotle makes an appearance).
Much has been written about the relationship of Immanuel to Dante, and of the former’s התופת והעדן to the latter’s Divine Comedy; as Immanuel’s Jewish Encyclopedia entry puts it:

It need hardly be said that Immanuel’s poem is patterned in idea as well as in execution on Dante’s “Divine Comedy.” It has even been asserted that he intended to set a monument to his friend Dante in the person of the highly praised Daniel for whom he found a magnificent throne prepared in paradise. This theory, however, is untenable, and there remains only that positing his imitation of Dante. Though the poem lacks the depth and sublimity, and the significant references to the religious, scientific, and political views of the time, that have made Dante’s work immortal, yet it is not without merit. Immanuel’s description, free from dogmatism, is true to human nature. Not the least of its merits is the humane point of view and the tolerance toward those of a different belief which one looks for in vain in Dante, who excludes all non-Christians as such from eternal felicity.

I have not studied either of the poems carefully, but as we have seen, at least with regard to the Greek intellectuals Immanuel shows rather less “tolerance toward those of a different belief” than is evident in his model.
From Dante’s Encyclopedia Judaica entry (available at the Jewish Virtual Library):

In the 19th century, scholars were convinced that Dante was on terms of friendship with the Hebrew poet *Immanuel of Rome. The latter and one of Dante’s friends, Bosone da Gubbio, marked Dante’s death by exchanging sonnets; and the death of Immanuel gave rise to another exchange of sonnets between Bosone and the poet Cino da Pistoia, in which Dante and Immanuel are mentioned together. Twentieth-century scholars, headed by M.D. (Umberto) Cassuto, showed that there is no basis for the alleged friendship between the two poets, but have proved Immanuel’s dependence upon Dante’s works. Important points of contact have also been discovered between Dante’s conceptions and the views of R. *Hillel b. Samuel of Verona; hypotheses have been formulated on the resemblance of the notion of Hebrew as the perfect or original language in the Commedia and in the works of the kabbalist Abraham *Abulafia, and in general on the common neoplatonic element in Dante’s theoretical and poetical works and in Kabbalah. Moreover, the Questio de aqua et terra probably written by Dante has a precedent in the discussion between Moses Ibn *Tibbon and Jacob ben Sheshet *Gerondi on the same subject a century before. Another parallel to Dante’s outlook on the world may be found in the writings and translations of Immanuel’s cousin, Judah b. Moses *Romano, who, within a few years of Dante’s death, made a *Judeo-Italian version of some philosophical passages from the Purgatorio and the Paradiso, adding his own Hebrew commentary. Italian Jews quickly realized the lyrical and ideological value of theCommedia and an early edition was issued by a Jewish printer at Naples in 1477. Like Petrarch, Dante was widely quoted by Italian rabbis of the Renaissance in their sermons, and even by one or two Jewish scholars in their learned commentaries. The first actual imitation was that of Immanuel of Rome. His Maḥberet ha-Tofet ve-ha-Eden is the 28th and final section of his Maḥberot (Brescia, 1491). Here Immanuel also describes a journey to the next world, in which he is guided by Daniel, a friend or teacher who, in the opinion of some scholars, is Dante himself.

[See further in the article for other echoes of the Divine Comedy in Jewish literature.]
The article also robustly rejects the imputation of antisemitism to Dante:

From biographical or autobiographical sources it cannot be proved for certain that Dante was in close touch with Jews or was personally acquainted with them. Jews are mentioned in his Divina Commedia mainly as a result of the theological problem posed by their historical role and survival. Such references are purely literary: the termjudei or giudei designates “the Jews,” a people whose religion differs from Christianity; while ebrei denotes “the Hebrews,” the people of the Bible. Dante knew no Hebrew and the isolated Hebrew terms which appear in the Commedia – Hallelujah, Hosanna, Sabaoth, El, and Jah – are derived from Christian liturgy or from the scholastic texts of the poet’s day. The Commedia contains no insulting or pejorative references to Jews. Although antisemites have given a disparaging interpretation to the couplet: “Be like men and not like foolish sheep, So that the Jew who dwells among you will not mock you” (Paradiso, 5:80–81), the Jews of Dante’s time considered these lines an expression of praise and esteem. In the course of his famous journey through Hell, Dante encounters no Jews among the heretics, usurers, and counterfeiters whose sinful ranks Jews during the Middle Ages were commonly alleged to swell.
Ha’aretz published an interview with Giorgio Battistoni, author of a book on Dante and Immanuel, who also denies Dante’s antisemitism:
What brought you to this pairing of the relatively obscure Hebrew poet and Dante, who to this day is the national poet of Italy?

“The big mystery that concerns me in my book is the meaning of the silence about the connection between the Jewish poet and the Italian poet, and why the only homage is from Immanuel to Dante and there is no mention by Dante of his Jewish friend. And the question of whether there was a one-way influence by Dante on Immanuel and not, perhaps, the other way around. Maybe, I ask myself, it was Dante who owed much more to his Jewish source, and therefore blurred the connection that existed between them.
“After all, it is impossible that they did not know one another because Dante frequented the court of the Veronese patron Can Grande della Scala. Alongside him there was an active Jewish patron, Hillel Ben Shemuel, the founder of a dynasty of Jewish patrons active in Verona from the middle of the 13th century to the end of the 14th century. Immanuel of Rome was his protege. Thanks to this family, Avraham Ibn Ezra came to Verona and wrote two books, and the family also invited Immanuel to leave Rome, his birthplace, and settle in Verona. Hillel Ben Shemuel was also the friend of kabbalist Avraham Abulafia.
All this is circumstantial evidence. It feels like you want to convince yourself. Give us a reason to be convinced as well.

“Is Umberto Eco acceptable to you? So, Umberto Eco says that Dante knew about the Kabbala through Avraham Abulafia. Tell me: How do you think all the wisdom got from southern Spain to Verona if not with the Jews who migrated there, and first and foremost among them Avraham Ibn Ezra? And there was also Kalonymos Ben Kalonymos, who dealt in many translations from Arabic and from Hebrew into Latin. And there was also the Tiboni family who dealt in such books throughout Christian Europe, and the best proof of this is Thomas Aquinas, who when he wrote his Summa theologica mentioned that he had in his possession a Latin translation of the Rambam’s `Guide for the Perplexed.'”
According to your description, it sounds like the books were easily accessible. Let’s not get carried away: The printing press had not yet been invented.

“True, access to books and to knowledge was the province of very few, but what was behind the flow of information was interest on the part of a somewhat greater public. At that time, people were beginning to think about secularism, and if not about true secularism then about a blurring of the boundaries between the monotheistic religions. Of course, such thoughts were considered subversive and encountered the sharp opposition of the various religious establishments, but they could no longer be silenced.
“After the rediscovery of Greek philosophy in Europe, Judaism, biblical Judaism, and especially the prophetic books, looked like a kind of stage of metaphysics, and there was the beginning of the fascination with the figure of the biblical prophet, who in this context of the beginnings of secularism, embodied the figure of the new enlightened individual.
“And this is exactly what Immanuel of Rome did in his `Mahberet Hatofet Veha’eden,’ when the Prophet Isaiah is elevated to the level of purity because of his learning, because of his understanding of the Scriptures.”
The question of imitation is unavoidable. From this it is clear that Immanuel of Rome imitated Dante in everything, and the impression is that Immanuel simply adjusted him to the Hebrew language, and his achievement is in this adaptation of Dante into a Semitic tongue.

“I would suggest being very careful about using the word `imitation.’ And perhaps the opposite is the case? First of all, I believe that if Immanuel of Rome was imitating anyone, it was not Dante but Alharizi, the originator of the mahberet genre, which was in turn an imitation of the Arabic maqama genre. The lines of influence and imitation, if at all, are far more indirect. Dante did not invent the plot model itself for the `Divine Comedy.’ The general lines of the story of the poet descending into the world of the dead is already found in Sefer Hama’alot (“The Book of Degrees,” by Rabbi Shem Tov Ibn Falaquera, 13th century) or the Arabic Kitab al miraj, which preceded Dante, and was translated into Latin and French. And these things were even studied in the early stages of Dante research.”

So why is so little known about this, to the extent that you need to make an issue of it now?

“My aim is to correct an historical injustice, in fact. The tragedy is that in 1921, the 600th anniversary of Dante’s death, these ideas began to be current. However, with the rise of Fascism in Italy, all the curiosity about Dante’s foreign sources gave way to a narrow nationalism, in which Dante was perceived as the great national poet of Italy, the purely Catholic poet, and it was no longer possible to talk about Muslim influences, never mind Jewish. Ironically, the great Jewish scholar Umberto Cassuto contributed to this when he stated definitively that Dante had not known Immanuel of Rome, and that it was all a matter of wishful thinking. In this way, the possibility was blocked of seeing a connection between Immanuel of Rome and Dante, despite all the paths, which cannot be denied, that lead to the conclusion that there had been a connection between them.
“For many years, the notion prevailed that Dante hated Jews, because of various quotations from his works. I will prove that this is not true! For now, I am pleased that I have proved, in this book, how much Dante owed Judaism.”
On the inferiority of Immanuel’s last mahberet compared to the Dantescan model already the researchers commented profusely:
Dan Pagis (1976) wrote: ‘The Mahberet of ‘Hell and Heaven” is probably the first among many creations in many languages, that followed Dante’s Divine Comedy. And Immanuel’s Mahberet is far less in quality than the Divine Comedy.
Saul Tchernichowsky (1925) said that ‘in comparison [to the Divine Commedy] the ‘Hell and Heaven’ of Immanuel is poor and miserable. The twenty-eighth Mahberet is the weakest of all the Mahbarot, Its possible that in it he finished his literary creation and after sixty years suffered from old age’s weakness’.
Joseph Chotzner (1905) said about the Mahberet of ‘Hell and Heaven’: ‘the condensed imitation [of the Divine Comedy] is of course, vastly inferior to the original’.
Umberto Cassuto (1965) wrote: ‘Immanuel intended to enrich the Hebrew literature in a creation that might give the reader an image of Dante’s poetry’ although in a much smaller measure, in giving a thing that its measure of greatness is to the ‘Divine Comedy’ as is the measure of [Immanuel’s] shallow and light talent in comparison to the great spirit of Dante.
A significant difference between the two works is the reference of their inclusion of their time’s persons in hell and heaven.
While in Dante’s hell there are many figures from his time, in Immanuel there is not one! Dante’s hell includes 133 figures from his time while with Immanuel there is none (The name Immanuel in verse 648 is not mentioned as an inhabitant of hell, and Hiel Bet-Haeli is mentioned in line 80 with specific reference to the Biblical world).
This picture changes drastically as we move to heaven, there Immanuel mentions twenty-one people from his time by name. Furthermore he speaks of five “hupot” (920-994) waiting for five of his friends who are still alive at his time for the time when they will die.
It is worth the effort to pay attention to these twenty-one people from Immanuel’s time for they are five close family members of Immanuel including his mother two brothers mother and father in law. As to the five ‘friends’ of Immanuel (as they are referred to by Daniel in line 921) These are important people (sarim), that is to be understood three of them were most probably patrons of Immanuel as is said about three of them that their houses were open to guests (28:934, 949, 969).
It could be presumed therefore that the two writers intentions were of opposite nature. While Dante sought to scold and punish all those of his time he thought deserved punishment, Immanuel wanted to offer reward. His piece is about making peace. And indeed it can explain his motives he wanted to make peace with his relatives and those he was grateful to (Patrons) in this work of art when he was ill and near death. This explains his inclusion for example of the five ‘hupot’ for the living those that he cherished, and it also can explain the relative inferiority of his Mahberet to all the other Mahbarot and to Dante’s Divine Comedy.
Shaked proceeds to consider whether Immanuel is actually the Jew mentioned in the Divine Comedy, and he touches (indirectly) on the question of Dante’s antisemitism.
See also this lengthy and detailed analysis of the poets and their works and this article on Immanuel, and see our previous discussion of the controversy over Immanuel’s work in the Jewish tradition.

R. Abba Mari of Lunel

The most startlingly positive appraisal of Aristotle I have ever seen comes from an even more unlikely source than an enthusiastic, if somewhat flaky, promoter of Kabbalah: R. Abba Mari (Don Astruc) of Lunel (Ha’Yarhi), who instigated and led the great crusade against the study of philosophy in early fourteenth century Provence and Spain, but who nevertheless is remarkably charitable toward Mr. Philosopher, the Greek himself, declaring that he truly meant well; that his failure to attain the ultimate truth is not his fault, and that the theological truths that he did attain, establish and promulgate render him worthy of respect:
For this shall he be remembered favorably, that he brought proofs to the existence of G-d, may He be blessed, and to His unity and incorporeality, and [to the fact that] He experiences no actuation or change, and in this he followed in the footsteps of Abraham, peace upon him, who was the initial proselyte …
אין תרעומות ולא נפלה הקפדה על ארסטו וחביריו, כי באמת לא נתכוונו לדבר סרה, ונתקיים בהם: ובכל מקום מוקטר ומוגש לשמי, ואמרו רז”ל (מנחות קי.) דקרו ליה א-להא דא-להא, מצורף לזה כי הם חכמי האומות ולא נעשה בהם האותות והמופתים, שהם שנוי סדרו של עולם, והנהגתם וסדורם על פי המערכת, כמו שאמר הכתוב: אשר חלק אותם ד’ לכל העמים, על כן אני אומר על ארסטו כי עינו הטעתו, בראותו עולם כמנהגו נוהג, גזר ואמר כי כל חלוף דבר מטבע נמנע, והביא ראיות על הקדמות, ואין לענשו על כך, כי אין זה מכלל ז’ מצות שנצטוו בני נח,
אך על זה יזכר לטוב, כי הביא ראיות על מציאות הא-ל יתברך, ואחדותו והיותו בלתי גשם, ולא ישיגהו הפעלות ושינוי, ובזה הלך אחרי עקבות אברהם ע”ה שהיה תחלה לגרים, וכן נמצא כתוב בספר התפוח, כי הוא השתדל לבטל הדעות הנפסדות, כמו שעשה אברהם ראש לפלוסופים, אשר בטל עבודת השמש והירח בחרן ע”כ.
ואם בענין החדוש והקדמות, לא ראה ולא ידע מופת, ולא נתאמת אצלו בראיות גמורות, ולא נלוה אליו עזר א-להי בזה, אין מן הפלא אם החזיק כוונתו בקבלותיו, והביא ראיות לעשות סעד לאמונת אבותיו, …[13]

Rav Elhanan Wasserman

A very troubling portrayal of Aristotle appears in a famous and much cited essay of Rav Elhanan Wasserman, מאמר על האמונה; he notes Rambam’s famous appraisal of Aristotle:
ואותו הכלל הוא, שכל מה שאמר אריסטו בכל המציאות אשר מאצל גלגל הירח עד מרכז הארץ, הוא נכון בלי פקפוק,ולא יטה ממנו אלא מי שלא הבינו, או מי שקדמו לו השקפות ורוצה להגן עליהן, או שמושכים אותו אותן ההשקפות להכחיש דבר גלוי. אבל כל מה שדיבר בו אריסטו מגלגל הירח ולמעלה, הרי כולו כעין השערה והערכה, פרט לדברים מעטים, כל שכן במה שאומר בדירוג השכלים, ומקצת ההשקפות הללו באלוהות שהוא סובר אותם ובהם זרויות גדולות,ודברים שהפסדם גלוי וברור לכל העמים, והפצת הבלתי נכון, ואין לו הוכחה על כך.[14]
Although I know that many partial critics will ascribe my opinion concerning the theory of Aristotle to insufficient understanding, or to intentional opposition, I will not refrain from stating in short the results of my researches, however poor my capacities may be. I hold that the theory of Aristotle is undoubtedly correct as far as the things are concerned which exist between the sphere of the moon and the centre of the earth. Only an ignorant person rejects it, or a person with preconceived opinions of his own, which he desires to maintain and to defend, and which lead him to ignore clear facts. But what Aristotle says concerning things above the sphere of the moon is, with few exceptions, mere imagination and opinion; to a still greater extent this applies to his system of Intelligences, and to some of his metaphysical views: they include great improbabilities, [promote] ideas which all nations consider as evidently corrupt, and cause views to spread which cannot be proved.[15]
And he uses it as a springboard to address a classic problem in moral philosophy: if even great philosophers such as Aristotle were unable to arrive at theological truth, how can G-d possibly demand this of every adult (i.e., adolescent) human being?
[כיון] דהאמונה היא מכלל המצות, אשר כל ישראל חייבין בה תיכף משהגיעו לכלל גדלות, דהיינו תינוק בן י”ג שנה ותינוקת בת י”ב שנה, והנה ידוע, כי בענין האמונה נכשלו הפילוסופים היותר גדולים כמו אריסטו, אשר הרמב”ם העיד עליו, ששכלו הוא למטה מנבואה, ור”ל שלבד הנבואה ורוח הקודש לא היה חכם גדול כמותו בעולם, ומכל מקום לא עמדה לו חכמתו להשיג אמונה אמתית, ואם כן איך אפשר שתוה”ק תחייב את כל התינוקות שישיגו בדעתם הפעוטה יותר מאריסטו, וידוע שאין הקב”ה בא בטרוניא עם בריותיו.[16]
Rav Elhanan’s classic answer is that the foundations of theology are indeed simple and self-evident, and it is only the extremely powerful biases against religious truth that prevent men from accepting them:
אבל כאשר נתבונן בזה נמצא, כי האמונה שהקב”ה ברא את העולם היא מוכרחת לכל בן דעת, אם רק יצא מכלל שוטה, ואין צורך כלל לשום פילוסופיא להשיג את הידיעה הזאת, וז”ל חובת הלבבות בשער היחוד פרק ו’:
ויש בני אדם שאמרו שהעולם נהיה במקרה, מבלי בורא חס ושלום, ותימא בעיני, איך תעלה בדעת מחשבה כזאת, ואילו אמר אדם בגלגל של מים, המתגלגל להשקות שדה, כי זה נתקן מבלי כוונת אומן, היינו חושבים את האומר זה לסכל ומשתגע וכו’. וידוע, כי הדברים אשר הם בלי כוונת מכוין, לא ימצאו בהם סימני חכמה. והלא תראה אם ישפך לאדם דיו פתאום על נייר חלק, אי אפשר שיצטייר ממנו כתב מסודר, ואילו בא לפנינו כתב מסודר ואחד אומר, כי נשפך הדיו על הנייר מעצמו ונעשתה צורת הכתב, היינו מכזיבים אותו, וכו’ עיי”ש,
ואיך אפשר לבן דעת לומר על הבריאה כולה שנעשית מאליה, אחרי שאנו רואין על כל פסיעה סימני חכמה עמוקה עד אין תכלית, וכמה חכמה נפלאה יש במבנה גו האדם ובסידור אבריו וכחותיו, כאשר יעידו על זה כל חכמי הרפואה והניתוח. ואיך אפשר לומר, על מכונה נפלאה כזאת, שנעשית מאיליה בלי כונת עושה. ואם יאמר אדם על מורה שעות שנעשה מעצמו, הלא למשוגע יחשב האומר כן. וכל דברים אלו נמצא במדרש:
מעשה שבא מין אחד לרבי עקיבא, אמר לו המין לרבי עקיבא, מי ברא את העולם? אמר לו רבי עקיבא: הקב”ה. אמר המין: הראני דבר ברור. אמר לו רבי עקיבא: מי ארג את בגדך? אמר המין: אורג. אמר לו רבי עקיבא: הראני דבר ברור, וכלשון הזה אמר רבי עקיבא לתלמידיו, כשם שהטלית מעידה על האורג והדלת מעידה על הנגר והבית מעיד על הבנאי, כך העולם מעיד על הקב”ה שהראו, עכ”ל המדרש,
ואם נצייר, שיולד אדם בדעת שלימה, תיכף משעת הולדו, הנה לא נוכל להשיג את גודל השתוממותו בראותו פתאום את השמים וצבאם, הארץ וכל אשר עליה, וכאשר נבקש את האיש הזה, להשיב על שאלתנו, אם העולם אשר הוא רואה עתה בפעם הראשונה נעשה מאליו, בלי שום כונה או שנעשה על ידי בורא חכם, הנה כאשר יתבונן בדעתו ישיב בלי שום ספק, שהדבר נעשה בחכמה נפלאה ובסדר נעלה מאד. ומבואר בכתוב, השמים מספרים כבוד וגו’ מבשרי אחזה וגו’ ואם כן הדבר תמוה ונפלא מאד להיפוך, איך נואלו פילוסופים גדולים לומר שהעולם נעשה במקרה.[17]
ופתרון החידה מצינו בתוה”ק, המגלה לנו כל סתום, והוא הכתוב: “לא תקח שוחד כי השוחד יעור עיני חכמים”, ושיעור שוחד על פי דין תורה הוא בשוה פרוטה, כמו גזל ורבית וכו’, והלא תעשה הזאת נאמרה על כל אדם וגם החכם מכל אדם וצדיק כמשה רבינו ע”ה, אם יצויר, שיקח שוחד פרוטה, יתעורו עיני שכלו ולא יוכל לדון דין צדק. ובהשקפה ראשונה הוא דבר תימה לומר על משה ואהרן שבשביל הנאה כל דהו, שהיה להם מבעל דין אחד, נשתנית דעתם ודנו דין שקר, אבל הרי התורה העידה לנו שכן הוא ועדות ד’ נאמנה.
ועל כרחך צריך לומר, שהוא חוק הטבע בכחות נפש האדם, כי הרצון ישפיע על השכל. ומובן, שהכל לפי ערך הרצון ולפי ערך השכל, כי רצון קטן ישפיע על שכל גדול רק מעט, ועל שכל קטן ישפיע יותר, ורצון גדול ישפיע עוד יותר, אבל פטור בלא כלום אי אפשר, וגם הרצון היותר קטן יוכל להטות איזה נטיה, גם את השכל היותר גדול. ומצינו ברז”ל, פרק שני דייני גזירות, שעל ידי כל דהו שהגיעה להם מאדם הרגישו תיכף נטיה בשכלם לומר, מצי טעין הכי, וכו’ ואמרו על זה, תיפח רוחם של מקבלי שוחד, עיי”ש דברים נפלאים מאד. והשתא נחזי אנן, אם רז”ל שהיו כמלאכים ברוחב דעתם ובמידותיהם הקדושות, פעלה עליהם קבלת הנאה כל שהוא להטות שכלם, כל שכן אנשים המשוקעים בתאות עולם הזה, אשר היצר הרע משחד אותם ואומר להם, הרי לפניך עולם של הפקר ועשה מה שלבך חפץ, עד כמה יש כח בנגיעה הגסה הזאת לעור עיני שכלם, כי בדבר שהאדם משוחד, לא יוכל להכיר את האמת אם היא נגד רצונותיו והוא כמו שיכור לדבר זה, ואף החכם היותר גדול לא תעמוד לו חכמתו, בשעה שהוא שיכור. ומעתה אין תימה מהפילוסופים שכפרו בחידוש העולם, כי כפי גודל שכלם עוד גדלו יותר ויותר תאוותיהם להנאת עולם הזה, ושוחד כזה יש בכחו להטות דעת האדם, לומר, כי שתי פעמים שנים אינן ארבע, אלא חמש. ואין כח בשכל האדם להכיר את האמת, בלתי אם אינו משוחד בדבר שהוא דן עליו, אבל אם הכרת האמת היא נגד רצונותיו של אדם, אין כח להשכל, גם היותר גדול, להאיר את עיני האדם.
היוצא מזה, כי יסודי האמונה מצד עצמם הם פשוטים ומוכרחים לכל אדם שאיננו בכלל שוטה, אשר אי אפשר להסתפק באמיתתם, אמנם רק בתנאי, שלא יהא אדם משוחד, היינו שיהא חפשי מתאות עולם הזה ומרצונותיו. ואם כן סיבת המינות והכפירה אין מקורה בקילקול השכל מצד עצמו, כי אם מפני רצונו לתאוותיו, המטה ומעור את שכלו, …[18]

Much of the discussion of this essay focuses on Rav Elhanan’s twin theses that:
  •     The Argument From Design is so utterly obvious and compelling that there is no explanation for serious atheism without the idea that
  •     Personal biases can be so powerful that they utterly blind their holders to the most basic and self-evident truths
But I have long been greatly disturbed by a different, albeit perhaps minor, point: the profound mischaracterization of Aristotelian theology as the equivalent of modern scientific materialistic atheism, holding that the universe is purely random, without any Designer behind it. Whatever Aristotle’s own views may actually have been, this is certainly not how he was understood by the Rishonim (both those favorable to the study of his philosophy as well as those opposed), who are surely the sole basis of Rav Elhanan’s knowledge of him. And as we have seen, Rav Abba Mari of Lunel attributes Aristotle’s failure to attain ultimate theological truth solely to his not having experienced the Divine miracles, or received the religious tradition, that we Jews have, and this is perfectly understandable in light of the standard view (explicitly espoused by him) of Aristotle as accepting the existence of G-d as Prime Mover, although not as One who intervenes at will in creating and maintaining His world.

“Rabbitstotle” and the Non-Triangular Mathematician

No discussion of Jewish attitudes toward Aristotle can be complete (not that this essay aspires to completeness in any event) without mention of the infamous, scurrilous “Rabbitstotle” legend of the great philosopher being caught devouring a live rabbit, and responding to his surprised observer that “I am (or: ‘this is’) not Aristotle”; but although this story is quite widespread in contemporary frum circles, I have yet to locate any source for it whatsoever, even an unreliable one, and I once (reasonably discreetly) walked out of a lecture by a very prominent speaker in frustration at his confident assertion of this libel (or one of its variants) as fact. This ridiculous anecdote has even been attributed (comment #46 to this article) to, of all people, Rambam (!):
Haredi leaders rarely make political statements. Even R. Shach’s comment about “rabbit eaters” was a reference to a passage in Rambam where he describes Aristotle, who was the epitome of good sense, telling his students “I am not Aristotle” as he gulps down a live rabbit. It was meant to describe the erstwhile idealists in the Left. Unless you knew the reference, of course, you would imagine it was “strange”.

I am no expert on Rav Shach, but I suspect that the obviously unreliable commenter may be misremembering / misquoting a controversial comment of Rav Shach derisively referring to secular kibbutzniks as “rabbit breeders“.
A variant of the story has the Philosopher caught committing a disgusting and immoral sexual perversion:

It would also be useful to bring up the famous story of Aristotle, once we mention Athens, and his students finding him engaged in highly illegal activities with a horse. They questioned him regarding his behaviour, specifically because he had only earlier that day warned them against it himself. His reply? “This is not Aristotle”, meaning that their was an intellectual soul, an Aristotle, and there was an animal soul, which wasn’t Aristotle. And never the twain shall meet. Judaism teaches that this is the wrong way to look at things. We are humans, yes, complete with human characteristics and desires, but we also have something higher. All people have an intellect, a brain, an organ that can raise a person from his purely animal past and place him in a world that is governed by reason, not by passion. Jews have it even better, because we have a G-dly soul, quite literally a part of the living G-d. And this soul allows us to rise above the intellectual to allow G-d to penetrate our conscious and replace all that is finite with the infinite. Aristotle didn’t accept that he could master himself. He refused to believe that the animal is man is not only shameful for the brain but also for the animal. For that is the difference between hiskafia and ishapcha. The former teaches us to repel all that is evil, but this is not enough. The latter teaches us to change that darkness into light. To make the animal soul itself recognize that there is no greater thing in the world than G-d. Allowing the animal free reign in its domain while the brain rules in its, as Aristotle wanted, is not a proper course of action. We were not brought into this world to satisfy our appetites, but rather to fulfill G-d’s will.

[See also the comments to the post.]

Here it is claimed that Aristotle’s “life of immorality” is “well known”; as is often the case, the assertion that something is “well known” is actually a euphemism for the introduction of a baseless rumor:

As such, man can be the most dangerous in all of Creation. And he needs to be constrained with heavy chains, not to act upon his beastly instincts. The only “chain” that can securely control man is fear of G’d. This serves as a constant reminder that at some point one has to give an account for every act, and that for every deed there will be a reward or punishment. Fear of G’d is what enables man to control his lust and cravings, as well as his arrogance and anger. As long as the going is smooth, every one will behave correctly. But when a person’s base instincts are stimulated, neither civilization nor culture will control him. It is well known that Aristotle, the great Greek philosopher, lived a life of immorality. And like him many great minds faired no better than their simple fellow beings in their private lives.

A related story, also common in frum circles, is told about the celebrated and colorful brilliant British mathematician and philosopher Bertrand Russell; here’s Sara Yocheved Rigler’s version (and see also here):
The story is told of Russell that while he was a Professor of Ethics at Harvard he was carrying on an adulterous affair. Since it was decades before the sexual revolution, Harvard’s Board of Governors called Russell in and censured him. Russell maintained that his private affairs had nothing to do with the performance of his professional duties. 
“But you are a Professor of Ethics!” one of the Board members remonstrated. 
“I was a Professor of Geometry at Cambridge,” Russell rejoined, “but the Board of Governors never asked me why I was not a triangle.” 
A basic fallacy underlies Russell’s position. If the quality of integrity is absent in the person, how can it be present in his or her ideas?

The claim that one’s ideas are not contaminated by one’s moral failures, especially for those who seek to remold society by their ideas, is hazardous. Ideas — whether they are religious, sociological, political, or scientific — must come from a source who is, minimally, committed to truth more than the propagation of his own ideology. If a man lies to his wife, how can you trust his philosophical contentions? If a woman fudges on her income tax, how can you be sure that she is not fudging on the results of her sociological experiments, or picking and choosing the results which corroborate her theories? 

[Rigler proceeds to hurl charges of gross and egregious moral and intellectual hypocrisy at Karl Marx and Lillian Hellman.] Jeffrey Woolf repeats the anecdote, but he at least acknowledges its “apocryphal” character.
One would think that anyone making up a story about a relatively recent historical figure would at least take the trouble to place him in a plausible setting; although Russell did teach at several American universities, Harvard was not one of them …
A much more profound error in this story is its utter misrepresentation of Russell’s morality; while the man was certainly promiscuous – he did engage in numerous affairs, many of them adulterous – upon being confronted with his sexual indulgences, he would certainly not have conceded hypocrisy; on the contrary, he would have unabashedly expounded his שיטה on sexuality in justification. Of course, one can still argue, à la Rav Elhanan, that his true motivation, conscious or subconscious, for this attitude was really his id, but the shameless retort attributed to him by the story certainly misses the point.

[1]    ספר יצירה עם מפרשים (ירושלים תשכ”ה) פ”ג מ”ה עמוד מה. – קשר
[2]    Dukes himself was apparently uncertain whether the “Moshe Boniak Botarel” of this letter is indeed the author of the commentary to ספר יצירה, but Prof. Simha Assaf is convinced that it is – see note 5 in the article referenced in our next note, and p. 295 in Prof. Ya’akov Zussman’s article cited below.
[3]    מתוך שמחה אסף, “”תשובות גאונים” מתוך גנזיו של ר’ משה בוטריל”, בתוך ספר היובל לד”ר בנימין מנשה לוין (ירושלים ת”ש) עמודים ב-ג – קשר. אני מודה לחבירי אליעזר ברודט שהראה לי מקום ספר זה באתרHebrewBooks.
[4]    שם עמודים א-ב
[5]    בית המדרש (חדר ששי) (ווינא תרל”ח) עמודים 141-42 – קשר
[6]    יעקב זוסמן, “שני קונטרסים בהלכה מאת ר’ משה בוטריל”, בתוך קבץ על יד, סדרה חדשה ספר ו’ (טז), עמוד 278. אני מודה לחברי Andy שהביא את מאמר זה לתשומת לבי, והשאיל לי את הספר.
[7]    שם, עמודים 296-97.
[8]    שם עמוד 297.
[9]    עמנואל הרומי, מחברות עמנואל, מחברת עשרים ושמונה (התופת והעדן) – קשר, (לבוב תרל) עמודים רכ-רכא – קשר.
[10]  “The concept of Limbo–a region on the edge of hell (limbus means “hem” or “border”) for those who are not saved even though they did not sin–exists in Christian theology by Dante’s time, but the poet’s version of this region is more generous than most. Dante’s Limbo–technically the first circle of hell–includes virtuous non-Christian adults in addition to unbaptized infants. We thus find here many of the great heroes, thinkers, and creative minds of ancient Greece and Rome as well as such medieval non-Christians as Saladin, Sultan of Egypt in the late twelfth century, and the great Islamic philosophers Avicenna (Ibn Sina) and Averroës (Ibn Rushd). For Dante, Limbo was also the home of major figures from the Hebrew Bible, who–according to Christian theology–were “liberated” by Jesus following his crucifixion (see Harrowing of Hell).” – link.
[11]  Divine Comedy, Inferno, Canto IV lines 131-47 – link.
[12]  “”The master of those who know” (Inf. 4.131). So respected and well known was Aristotle in the Middle Ages that this phrase is enough to identify him as the one upon whom other prominent philosophers in Limbo– including Socrates and Plato–look with honor. Dante elsewhere follows medieval tradition by referring to Aristotle simply as “the Philosopher,” with no need of additional information. Aristotle’s authority in the Middle Ages owes to the fact that almost all his works were translated into Latin (from their original Greek and / or from Arabic) in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. By contrast, only one work by Plato–the Timaeus–was available in Latin translation (partial at that) in Dante’s day. A student of Plato’s, tutor to Alexander the Great, and founder of his own philosophical school, Aristotle (384-322 B.C.E.) wrote highly influential works on an astonishing range of subjects, including the physical universe, biology, politics, rhetoric, logic, natural philosophy, metaphysics, and ethics. Next to the Bible, he was the most important authority for two of Dante’s favorite Christian thinkers, Albert the Great and his student Thomas Aquinas, both of whom strove to validate the role of reason and to sharpen its relationship to faith. The influence of Aristotelian thought on Dante is perhaps most apparent in the content of a philosophical work (Convivio), the argumentation of a political treatise (De Monarchia), and the moral structure of hell (Inferno).” – link.
[13]  מנחת קנאות (פרסבורג תקצ”ח) הקדמה פרק י”ד – קשר.
[14]  מורה נבוכים (מהדורת קאפח)חלק ב’ פרק כ”ב – קשר. ויש לציין עוד את דברי הרמב”ם על ארסטו באגרתו אל ר’ שמואל אבן תיבון: “ודברי אפלטון רבו של ארס”טו בספריו וחבוריו הם עמוקות ומשלים. והם עוד מה שיספיק לו לאדם משכיל זולתם. לפי שספרי ארס”טו תלמידו הם שיספיקו על כל מה שחבר לפניהם. ודעתו ר”ל דעת ארס”טו היא תכלית דעת האדם, מלבד מי שנשפע עליהם השפע הא-להי עד שישיגו אל מעלת הנבואה אשר אין מעלה למעלה ממנה.” – קשר.
[15]  Ibid, Friedlander’s translation: – link.
[16]  ר’ אלחנן בונם וסרמן, קובץ מאמרים (ירושלים תשכ”ג), מאמר על אמונה, אות ג’ עמודים יא-יב.
[17]  שם אות ה’ עמודים יב-יג.
[18]  שם אותיות ו’-ז’, עמודים יג-יד.



Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 2

Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 2
 
by Marc B. Shapiro
1. In my previous post, in discussing the words in Ecclesiastes 2:8 עשיתי לי שרים ושרות, I referred to the interpretation in Kohelet Rabbati. This very section of Kohelet Rabbati has an amazing comment, which as far as I know was never referred to in the dispute over Sara Hurwitz’ rabbinical ordination. Commenting on the words שדה ושדות, which appear in the same sentence as שרים ושרות, the Midrash states:

שדה ושדות: דיינים זכרים ודיינות נקבות
In other words, Solomon is portrayed as appointing female dayanim! (See also Ruth Rabbah 1:1 where Deborah and Yael are described as judges.[1]) The standard commentaries find this passage very difficult and offer alternative explanations, sometimes in opposition to the plain sense of the words. Etz Yosef suggests that the job of the women was to judge other women. R. David Luria adopts the lav davka approach, and assumes that דיינות must mean policewomen of sorts.
ודיינות נקבות: לאו דווקא דיינות דאשה פסולה לדון. אלא שופטת להשגיח שלא ישלטו [ישלחו?] הנשים בעולתה איש לרעותה את ידה
His position is rejected by R. Abraham Horowitz, Kinyan Torah ba-Halakhah, vol 1, no. 8:3. Rabbi Horowitz, who was a member of the Edah Haredit beit din, assumed that when the Midrash referred to female dayanim, it didn’t mean that they actually took part in beit din proceedings, but it did mean that they decided halakhic matters, and in that sense they are דיינות. Here are his words, which everyone should examine closely.
ובאמת ל”י [לא ידעתי] מה החרדה הזאת דהא הפת”ש בחו”מ סי’ ז’ סק”ה הביא מספר החינוך מצוה קנ”ח דאשה חכמה ראוי’ להורות . . . אפש”ל דיינות שנתמנו [ע”י שלמה] רק לפסוק הוראה ולא לדון. ועימנ”ח סו”מ ע”ח דפשיטא לי’ דנשים מצטרפות לרוב חכמי הדור אם חולקין באיזו דין . . . מכ”ז נראה דאין לזלזל בסמכות אשה כשירה
I requested that readers examine his words, because in the backlash over Hurwitz’ ordination a number of statements were made the upshot of which was that halakhic decision-making is reserved for men. Ironically, this position is given support by at least some of the women serving as yoatzot, for they are careful to stress that while they provide guidance, they don’t, Heaven forbid, actually decide halakhah. When there is a real halakhic question they turn to the experts, that is, the male rabbis. The message of this is, of course, that women, no matter how learned, are disqualified from deciding halakhah.[2]
Returning to Kohelet Rabbati, R. Yisrael Be’eri accepts that the Midrash means what it says when it refers to dayanim, but suggests that Solomon not only had female courts, but also “co-ed” batei din. See Ha-Midrash ka-Halakhah (Nes Tziyonah, 1960), p. 317:
ולולי מסתפינא אמינא שזה היה הרכב זוגי ז”א אותו דין היה מתברר בפני בי”ד רגיל וכן הוסיף שיתברר בפני דיינות נקבות שאולי יש בהן בינה יתירה וגישה מיוחדת ואחר כך שוקלין זה מול זה ואז היה מתברר הדין בדקדוק ושיקול מיוחד וצ”ע.
It is noteworthy that he sees value in having the female dayanim examine the matter, since they can bring a feminine perspective to bear. If I just presented the text without telling you who the author was and when it was written, I am sure people would assume that only a modern feminist type could have penned these words. Yet we see that this is not the case.
R. Hayyim David Halevi also deals with this Midrash (Aseh Lekha Rav, vol. 8, pp. 247-248). He suggests that the Midrash is indeed operating under the assumption that there is no problem with women dayanim. Alternatively, he suggests that Solomon and his council accepted the authority of the women, and therefore this was permissible. In other words, there is only a halakhic problem when a woman is made a dayan against the will of the community, but if she is accepted by them, then she can serve. And how do we determine if the community accepts her as a dayan? Halevi explains:
וקבלה ודאי שמועילה, והכל כשרים לדון בקבלה, וקבלת גדולי הקהל מספיקה ואין צורך שכל העומדים לדין יקבלו עליהם. וכן מצאנו “דיינות נקבות” כלשון המדרש, ואין סתירה להלכה
What this means is that if the leaders of the community accept women dayanim, then this is sufficient. (I am speaking about in matters of Hoshen Mishpat, not dayanim for Even ha-Ezer.) Therefore, if leaders of the OU or the RCA declare that they accept women, that would open the door to appointing a woman as a dayan on the RCA beit din. Halevi refers to acceptance by גדולי הקהל. In the context of the United States, where there are lots of different kehilot, I would assume that this means that if the leaders of any one community, or even of one synagogue, agree to accept a woman as dayan, then this is sufficient.
R. Ben Zion Uziel also claimed that women can serve as dayanim, and the means of achieving this would be through a takanah. He cites meta-halakhic reasons to explain why this is not a good idea, but from a pure halakhic standpoint, he sees it as entirely acceptable.[3]
Leaving aside the issue of serving as a dayan, it is obvious to me that women rabbis are coming to Modern Orthodoxy, even if the powers that be are standing firmly against it. Yet they have already let the genie out of the bottle. By sanctioning advanced Torah study for women, there is no question that the time will come when there will be women scholars of halakhah who are able to decide issues of Jewish law. The notion that a woman who has the knowledge can “poskin” is not really controversial, and has been acknowledged by many haredi writers as well.[4] Very few rabbis are poskim, but every posek is by definition a “rabbi”, whether he, or she, has received ordination or not.[5] So when we have women who are answering difficult questions of Jewish law, they will be “rabbis”,[6] and no declarations by the RCA or the Agudah will be able to change matters. I am not talking about pulpit rabbis, as this position has its own dynamic and for practical reasons may indeed not be suitable for a woman. Yet as we all know, very few rabbis function in a pulpit setting, and much fewer will ever serve as a dayan on a beit din.
The reason why the issue of ordaining women has been so problematic is because the Orthodox community is simply not ready for it. Yet when women will achieve the level of scholarship that I refer to, and are already deciding matters of halakhah, then their “ordination” will not be regarded as at all controversial in the Modern Orthodox world, and will be seen as a natural progression. People will respond to this no differently than how they responded to the creation of advanced Torah institutes for women. [7] Since women were already being taught Talmud, the creation of these institutes was a natural step.
There is one more thing that needs to be added, and that is that we have not reached the point where there are women halakhic authorities.[8] I hope I won’t be accused of bashing women by pointing out the following fact, that as of 2012 not one traditional sefer, in Hebrew, written by a woman has been published. By traditional sefer I mean a halakhic work or a commentary on a talmudic tractate. I am waiting for this day, which I hope won’t be too long in the future. I also hope that a learned woman is currently working on a commentary to a tractate, even if it is one of the easier tractates such as Megillah. The point is that for women to be recognized as talmudic and halakhic authorities they will have to do exactly what the men do, and that is show the world that they are serious talmidot hakhamim. The major way to do this is through publishing. (Publishing has its own significance, even if no one actually reads the book. Let’s be honest, of the many volumes of commentary on talmudic tractates that are published by people in yeshiva and kollel every year, does anyone read them? With so many great works of rishonim and aharonim on the tractates, as well as the writings of contemporary gedolim, the modern commentaries by unknown talmidei hakhamim are understandably not anyone’s focus. Yet they are of great benefit to the author, in developing his ideas and advancing his learning, and that is reason enough for the works to appear.)
I agree that it isn’t “fair” that while men can be given the title “rabbi” simply by learning sections of Yoreh Deah, the women must do a lot more to be accepted. But that is required any time new developments come into place. I have been assured by people in the know that the day is coming when we will have first-rate women halakhists and talmudists. It will be fascinating to see what insights they bring to matters, and if a woman’s perspective affects how halakhah is decided. But we haven’t reached that day yet, and just as importantly, the Orthodox world as a whole is not yet ready for that day, as they have not yet become comfortable with the idea of a woman poseket.
In note 7 I refer to the recent article by Broyde and Brody in Hakirah 11. While they leave open the possibility of a future with women rabbis, R. Hershel Schachter also has a very short article in that issue, and he is completely opposed. What I think is interesting is that the only recent authority he cites in support of his rejection of women rabbis is “Rabbi Shaul Lieberman.” I guess R. Schachter regards Lieberman as one of the gedolei Yisrael.[9]
Regarding R. Schachter’s opposition to women rabbis, there is one other point worth noting. In an earlier post, available here, I wrote as follows:
R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai has an entry for “rabbanit” in his Shem ha-Gedolim. He lists there a few learned women. When Azulai uses the term rabbanit, it does not mean “rebbetzin” but “female rabbi”. I am sure that there are those who would object to the Hida that these women were never “ordained”. Yet the Hida also includes many others who were not ordained, but I don’t think anyone would take the title of “rabbi” away from them. One such figure is Moses ben Maimon.
My point in this was to show that women have already been given the title approximating that of rabbi by no less than the Hida (obviously in a pre-feminist context).[10] As far as I know, I was the only one to make this point during the hullabaloo a couple of years ago about the ordination of Sara Hurwitz. I was surprised that no one else picked up on this as I happen to think it would give the pro-ordination side a strong piece of ammunition.
My post went up on June 25, 2010, and someone must have mentioned this to R. Schachter because on July 7, 2010 he responded. You can listen to what he says here (beginning at minute 6). He mentions that the Hida’s use of rabbanit was cited in support of women’s ordination, and concludes that nevertheless this proof is “not so conclusive.” [11]
Flora Sassoon (1859-1936) was an extremely learned woman who lived too late to be included by the Hida.[12] In 2007 the Sassoon family published Nahalat Avot, which is a large collection of letters sent to the Sassoons by great Torah figures. Many of the Torah letters in this book were sent to Flora, and she is addressed in a number of them as “rabbanit”. Her husband held no rabbinic office and I think we can therefore conclude that the term “rabbanit” is being used as a title of respect for her knowledge.[13] Another example of this is seen in how she is introduced by R. Joel Herzog, who published a derashah she delivered in his Imrei Yoel, vol. 3, pp. 204-206. (Are there any other examples of a traditional sefer including something written by a woman?) Herzog too uses the term rabbanit as a title of respect.
Finally, with regard to women’s roles, let me call attention to what I think is a little known fact. Liberal Orthodoxy is very interested in finding ways to expand the opportunities for women to be involved in Jewish rituals. This encompasses everything from reading the Torah and leading Kabbalat Shabbat, to reciting sheva berakhot and reading the ketubah at a wedding. I haven’t yet seen any proposals to have a woman serve as a sandak. This would not be a new practice. R. Meir of Rothenburg writes that in his day in “most places” a woman sat in the synagogue and held the baby during circumcision.[14] In other words, this was the mainstream Ashkenazic minhag. R. Meir opposed this practice and made efforts to uproot it. This opposition was successful and is the background of R. Moses Isserles, Shulhan Arukh, Yoreh Deah 265:11, declaring that a woman cannot be a sandak, because it is peritzut.[15] Yet despite Rama’s comment, my experience is that this is the sort of judgment that the liberal Orthodox are quick to revise. Certainly, the Rama would assume that there is more peritzut in having a woman serve as a hazzan than in holding the baby during a circumcision. Yet for some reason, while the latter has become accepted on the left of Orthodoxy, I haven’t heard anyone speak about instituting female sandakot. (If there are places where women are indeed serving as sandakot, please leave a comment.)
2. In an earlier post I discussed how R. Moses Kunitz’s biography of R. Judah the Prince was censored from a recent printing of the classic Vilna Mishnah. I also included a picture of Kunitz. Here is another, completely unknown, picture of Kunitz.
I found it in the Yeshiva University Archives, call no. 1992.008, and I thank the Archives for permission to publish it here.
In the earlier post dealing with Kunitz, I wrote:
Immediately following Kunitz’ essay, there is another article on the grammar of Mishnaic Hebrew by Solomon Loewisohn.[16] In the very first note he refers to the book of Ecclesiastes, and concludes his comment with והטעם ידוע למשכילי עם. What he is alluding to in this note is that Ecclesiastes is a late biblical book, and thus could not have been written by Solomon. To show this he points to the word חוץ, which in its usage in Ecclesiastes 2:25 is an Aramaism, and thus post-dates the biblical Hebrew of Solomon’s day. To use an expression of the Sages, we live in an olam hafukh. Kunitz’ essay was thought worthy of censorship, and at the same time this note remains in every printing of the Vilna edition of the Mishnah. Yet as I mentioned above, let’s see how long it is before this note, or even the complete essay, is also removed.
What I didn’t realize, and I thank an anonymous commenter for pointing out, is that this note has already been tampered with, and in such an ingenious fashion that there is now no need for it to be deleted. Here is how it appears in the Vilna Mishnah.[17]
And here is the page in the 1999 Zekher Hanokh edition of the Mishnah, published by Wagshal (an edition which also deletes Kunitz’ introduction).
Now, instead of והטעם ידוע למשכילי עם, we have והדבר ידוע למשכילי עם. In the original, Loewisohn is telling the reader that the reason why there is an Aramaism in Ecclesiastes is known to the wise (i.e., the book is post-Solomonic), In the Zekher Hanokh edition all he is saying is that the existence of Aramaisms in Ecclesiastes is known to the wise, with no daring implication as to dating.
I also found something else of interest. Here is the last page of Kunitz’ essay on R. Judah the Prince.
Notice how he mentions Mendelssohn, Rabe’s German translation of the Mishnah, and how in his opinion R. Judah would be happy with such a translation.
This all sounds a little too “maskilish,” and here is what same page looks like as it appears on Otzar ha-Hokhmah.
Look at what has been removed. Is there really such an edition with the removed lines, or did Otzar ha-Hokhmah censor the material itself? (I will return to the censorship of Kunitz in the next post, as new information regarding this has recently come to light.)
There are other examples where I think it is Otzar ha-Hokhmah that is responsible for the censorship. Here is the title page of the book Va-Yakem Edut be-Yaakov (Prague, 1594) as it appears on Otzar ha-Hokhmah
Here is the uncensored page, as is found on hebrewbooks.org
Incidentally, the title page of R. Yitzhak Chajes’ Derashah (Prague, 1589) used the exact same model.
Dan already discussed the Chajes title page here and called attention to how an auction catalog ridiculously suggested, without any evidence whatsoever, that the non-Jewish workers of the Jewish publisher put this immodest picture in.
How were the workers able to get away with this? The catalog has the “religiously correct” answer: it was hol ha-moed and the owner was not around! Since a pious Jew would never have anything to do with such a picture, the non-Jewish workers must have used their own money to buy the plates for this engraving. And why would the non-Jewish workers have spent their own money doing something that would anger the owner and get them fired? It must be that they wanted to cause Jews trouble, which is what non-Jews are always interested in. Knowing that when the owner saw what they did he would never agree to sell a book with such a title page, the non-Jewish workers must have taken all the books from the printing press and, at their own expense, sent them out to all the book sellers. All this could happen without the owner being aware because it was hol ha-moed and during this time the owner of the press wouldn’t dream of dropping by his shop (so much did he trust his workers), just like today none of us know any religious Jews who would ever consider going to work on hol ha-moed.
The title page of Va-Yakem Edut be-Yaakov, published in Prague five years after Chajes’ Derashah appeared, shows us that the non-Jewish workers must have once more, on hol ha-moed of course, surreptitiously inserted the same picture as a title page for a different book. I think everyone has to wonder, why didn’t the publisher learn anything from the first time these non-Jewish trouble makers played around with a Jewish printing press?
Another example of censorship on Otzar ha-Hokhmah is seen with the Venice 1574 edition of the Mishneh Torah. Here is the title page.
Here is how the second page looks, from volume 2 (as seen on hebrewbooks.org). The verse along the edges is from Psalm 45:12: “The king shall desire your beauty.”.
This edition was published in four volumes. In the copy on Otzar ha-Hokhmah, three of the four volumes contain the second page. Two of the pictures are significantly whited out, and in the second picture below you can see that they have whited out enough so that the reader will think he is looking at a man.
There are, to be sure, plenty of examples where the pictures appear without any censorship on Otzar ha-Hokhmah (and even with the examples I have given, it is not clear if Otzar ha-Hokhmah is responsible for the censorship or the book came to them this way). Here, for example, is the famous family crest of R. Abraham Menahem Rapa of Porto, which appears at the end of his Minhah Belulah.
S. has already pointed out that this picture was altered in a recent printing of the sefer.[18] Here is what the altered version looks like.
Michael Silber has noted that in Binyamin Shlomo Hamburger’s recent book Ha-Yeshiva be-Fiorda, the women have been turned into men, complete with beards![19]
Here is what the Encyclopaedia Judaica, s.v. Rapoport, writes:
The name Rapa originated in the German Rabe (Rappe in Middle High German), i.e., a raven. In order to distinguish themselves from other members of the Rapa family, the members of this family added the name of the town of Porto, and thus the name Rapoport was formed . . . The family escutcheon of Abraham Rapa of Porto shows a raven surmounted by two hands raised in blessing (indicating the family’s priestly descent).
Regarding the sefer Minhah Belulah, at the beginning of each book of the Pentateuch the following “immodest” picture also appears.
As far as I know, hebrewbooks.org has not censored any of the books that appear on the site. (We have previously discussed books that it refuses to put up.) A few years ago the Reich collection of reprints was added to hebrewbooks.org and these have all sorts of interesting title pages. Here is the title page of R. Samuel ben David Ha-Levi’s Nahalat Shivah.
The year is expressed as משיח בן דוד בא. This adds up to 427 (i.e., 5427), and is an allusion towards Shabbetai Zvi. The year 5427 corresponded to 1666-1667, and the convention normally would be to write 1667 (and this is the date given in the Harvard catalog). However, in this case I assume it is more accurate to give the date as 1666. We know that Shabbetai Zvi converted on September 15, 1666. By 1667 this information would have reached Amsterdam and the title page would no longer refer to him as the Messiah. Therefore, I think we can conclude that the book appeared after Rosh ha-Shanah of 1666, but before January 1, 1667. Nevertheless, it is noteworthy that if you look at the end of the book there is a comment by the typesetter from which we see that, despite the date on the title page, the book was not actually ready for publication until the beginning of 1668. In other words, the title page was not changed in the interim, despite Shabbetai Zvi’s apostasy.
Among the Reich reprints, here is another fascinating title page (actually the first of two title pages in this book). It is from R. Abraham ben Shabbetai’s Kehunat Avraham (Venice 1719).
Here is the author’s picture, that appears on the second page. He clearly is wearing a wig.
3. In the previous post I mentioned something I was told by R. Avraham Yosef, the son of R. Ovadiah. He is the chief rabbi of Holon and while a great talmid hakham, unlike his brothers R. Yitzhak and R. David he has not published very much. Here is his picture.
Like his father, R. Avraham is known for some controversial statements. He has also surprised people with his viewpoints. See here, for example, where he expressed his support for Livni becoming prime minister. I have found that he is very accessible and will answer any letter written to him. Since we are approaching Passover, let me share with readers the following.
From reading the works of R. Ovadiah Yosef,[20] I have always assumed that in his opinion even Ashkenazim living in Israel are obligated to follow R. Joseph Karo. Despite what R. Yitzhak states in his letter published below, I haven’t seen any convincing explanation as to why the Moroccans and the Yemenites should be obligated in this according to R. Ovadiah, but not the Ashkenazim. And yet R. Ovadiah does not say so openly, perhaps to avoid involving himself in controversy. He also doesn’t say that Ashkenazim should keep their practices in the Land of Israel, except for one issue, namely, kitniyot, where he is explicit that Ashkenazim are obligated to follow their tradition.[21] However, based on my assumptions from reading R. Ovadiah, I assumed that the obligation of kitniyot in the Land of Israel only applied to those who identified as Ashkenazim. If, on the other hand, someone wanted to “convert,” as it were, to Sephardi practice, he would no longer be obligated in kitniyot.
To test my theory, I wrote to three of R. Ovadiah’s sons, R. David, R. Yitzhak, and R. Avraham, asking if it was permissible for an Ashkenazi to adopt Sephardi practices in all areas, meaning that he would no longer have to avoid kitniyot. R. David never replied, but I did receive replies from R. Yitzhak and R. Avraham. Readers might recall how R. David and R. Yitzhak differed about what blessing should be recited over Bamba, and each claimed to have the support of their father. In the kitniyot case as well there is a dispute. R. Yitzhak wrote to me that an Ashkenazi, even in Israel, is bound to his communal practices. The only exception is if he is a baal teshuvah., In this case, he hasn’t yet adopted the Ashkenazic practices, and he can therefore “become Sephardi”. Here is R. Yitzhak’s letter (it was one letter, with two signatures).
However, R. Avraham has a different perspective, believing that he too is properly representing his father’s outlook (and what he writes is what I also assumed based on my own reading of R. Ovadiah). According to R. Avraham, an Ashkenazi in Israel (and only in Israel) is permitted to become Sephardi, בין לטוב ובין למוטב. Here is R. Avraham’s letter.
4. Rabbi Moshe Shamah’s commentary on the Torah has recently appeared. At over one thousand pages, it is titled Recalling the Covenant: A Contemporary Commentary on the Five Books of the Torah. In a future post I hope to deal in more detail with one of Shamah’s essays, but in the meantime I wanted to let readers know about the book’s appearance. Many volumes of Torah commentary appear each year, usually written in the same style. Shamah’s book is different. The sources used and the questions asked will be eye-opening for many. It is not derush and does not psychoanalyze biblical figures. Rather, Shamah’s book is high level Torah scholarship in the tradition of the great peshat commentators, both medieval and modern,. I also found it interesting that the book contains a blurb from the noted biblical scholar Gary Anderson (as well from Yaakov Elman, Barry Eichler, and Jack Sasson).
Just as I was about to send in this post I also received Rabbi Nathaniel Helfgot’s just published Mikra and Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its Interpretation. This is a collection of essays on different themes in Tanakh and is a good example of the Modern Orthodox revolution in the study of Bible. Just as the Rav commented that that it would be impossible today to (successfully) teach Talmud to students who are secularly educated if not for R. Chaim’s approach, something similar can be said regarding Tanakh. For those with a secular education, who have read great books, it is very difficult to connect to Tanakh without the new approach that has been developed in the last forty years or so. As R. Yoel Bin Nun puts in his preface to Helfgot’s book: “It is impossible to study Tanakh in the land of Israel as if we are still residing in Eastern Europe prior to the Holocaust.”[22]
[1] There are, to be sure, opposing passages. See e.g., Bamidbar Rabbah 10:17, where it records that Manoah stated: והנשים אינם בנות הוראה. This text is cited by a number of halakhists to show that women are not to issue halakhic rulings. Both R. Hayyim Hirschensohn, Malki ba-Kodesh, vol. 4 p. 104 and R. Yissachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Zeraim, p. 151, reject drawing any conclusions from the passage. Both of them claim that one can’t rely on what Manoah said, as he was an am ha-aretz (see Berakhot 61a: מנוח עם הארץ היה). This is an interesting point, but I wonder if it has any validity. It obviously depends on how one is supposed to read Midrash. On the one hand, Manoah may have been an am ha-aretz, but the sage who put this expression in his mouth was not, and neither was the redactor of the text, so perhaps Manoah’s statement should indeed be seen as a rabbinic position. On the other hand, since it was put in the mouth of an am ha’aretz, perhaps it should be regarded as simply that, namely, an uninformed opinion.
It is interesting that the well-known author, R. Aaron Hyman, responded to Hirschensohn in Malki ba-Kodesh, vol. 6, p. 204. He criticized Hirschensohn for writing as if he believed that because the Midrash quoted a statement of Manoah, that the historical Manoah actually said this:
ומה שמביא חתנו הלשון מבמ”ר נשים אינן בנות הוראה, ורוצה אדוני לתלות יען שמנוח ע”ה הי’ אומר דבר זה, חס מלהזכיר שיאמין כבודו שבאמת מנוח אמר דבר זה, האם אמרו חז”ל מדברי נביאות או בקבלה, הלא אך בדרך דרש אמר הדרשן כן וכן והוא דברי הדרשן הי’ מי שהי’ אבל מדרש הוא ואדם גדול קבצם, וכן ידוע כל השקלא וטריא שהיה בין קרח ומשה בענין טלית שכלה תכלת והאלמנה והכבשה, זהו אך מליצה נשגבה אבל לא שבאמת היה כן.
See Hirschensohn’s reply, ibid., p. 209, that his intent was only that the Midrash, בדרך דרש, attributed words to Manoah.
[2] Another irony is that the halakhic textbook written by the most distinguished of these yoatzot turns out to be more stringent, and requires consultation with rabbis more often, than halakhic texts written by men. See Aviad Stollman’s review of Deena R. Zimmerman’s A Lifetime Companion to the Laws of Jewish Family Life in Meorot 6 (2007), p. 5. I can’t imagine that women think that there is an advantage in having halakhic works written by other women if these works actually reduce female autonomy in intimate hilkhot niddah matters and require more consultation with male rabbis.
With regard to calling the women yoatzot and not poskot, Stollman, p. 8, n. 20, believes that “this is merely a tribute to Orthodox political correctness.” Maybe someone who knows the situation better than I can comment on Stollman’s point. That is, are these women really giving halakhic decisions and merely “covering” themselves by using the politically correct term yoatzot?
Regarding Stollman, I should point out that he is an academic scholar, and in addition to articles has published a critical edition and commentary of Eruvin, ch. 10, Ha-Motze Tefillin (Jerusalem, 2008). He has also published a volume of responsa, Pele Yoetz (Jerusalem, 2011). Responsum no. 45 is, I think, unique in responsa literature. Stollman was asked if it is permitted to create Santa Claus dolls that sing Jingle Bells. He rules that it is permissible. If I’m not mistaken, Stollman is the first one since R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg to combine academic Talmud study with the writing of halakhic responsa.
Returning to yoatzot, I think many will find interesting that in Yemen and in some of the Sephardic world there was never a concept of asking a rabbi intimate niddah questions. This was because the women were embarrassed to do so, seeing it as “untzniusdik”. I mention this only because I have heard rabbis say that in truth there are no tzeniut issues with this, and women shouldn’t be embarrassed. They make it seem that it is only due to modern values that all of a sudden this sort of thing is uncomfortable for women. This is clearly not the case, as we see from what happened in the Yemenite and some of Sephardic worlds, hardly centers of modernity. (I am only speaking of the historical reality, not the wisdom of the Yemenite and Sephardic approaches, which usually meant that any doubt would be assumed to render the woman impure.) R. Yitzhak Shehebar, the Sephardic rav of Buenos Aires, writes as follows in his Yitzhak Yeranen, no. 95 (quoted in Beit Hillel, Tamuz 5769), p. 120:
ואשר לעניין מראות הדמים לא נהגנו בזה כלל, כי מעולם לא ראיתי להרבנים באר”צ [ארם צובה] שטפלו בזה, אך הנהיגו את הנשים שכל מראה הדומה למראית אדמומית שהוא טמא, זולתי אם יהיה כמראה לבן או ירוק שהוא טוהר.
Regarding Yemen, R. Yitzhak Ratsaby writes (Piskei Maharitz, vol. 3, section Be’erot Yitzhak, pp. 339-340):
אצלנו בק”ק תימן יע”א אין שואלין כלל לחכמים בעניין הכרת מראות הדמים, ובכל ספק הנשים מחזיקות עצמן טמאות ויושבות ז’ נקיים [ואפי’ לבעליהן נמנעות מלהראות כדי שלא יתגנו בעיניהן . . .] וכ”ה גם ברב ק”ק ספרדים יע”א . . . האידנא דהשאלה בדרך כלל היא רק לעיתים רחוקות, עי”ז נשתלשל הדבר שנמנעו מלשאול לגמרי מחמת בושתן היתירה וצניעותן המרובה כנודע
Ratsaby points out that this practice developed even though talmudic literature provides plenty of examples showing that in the days of the tannaim and amoraim the Sages did examine ketamim.
Regarding Yemen, see also R. Nachum Eliezer Rabinovitch, Siah Nahum, no. 60. In this responsum, Rabinovitch supports the institution of yoatzot and suggests that this practice, of turning to women in niddah matters, even existed in tannaitic times: כי לפנות לאשה חכמה אין חשש שמא תתגנה
In a note to this responsum, the editor provides further testimony about Yemen.
שמעתי עדות מחכם נאמן, שהיו מקומות בתימן בהם היו זקנות שהיו מוחזקות כבקיאות בעניני מראות, והנשים היו פונות אליהן, ומעולם לא ערער אדם על כך.
R. Moshe Maimon called my attention to the Meam Loez’s discussion of the laws of niddah, addressed to both men and women, and there is no mention there of bringing anything to the rabbi. This omission was rectified by R. Aryeh Kaplan, who in his translation (vol. 1, p. 136) adds: “When in doubt, a competent rabbi should be consulted.”
[3] Mishpetei Uziel, Hoshen Mishpat, no. 5.
[4] For sources on women deciding halakhic questions, see the three responsa in support of Sara Hurwitz’ being ordained as a “Maharat,” authored by Rabbis Yoel Bin-Nun, Daniel Sperber, and Joshua Maroof, available here.
[5] The Hafetz Hayyim, who was a “rabbi” if there ever was one, only received semikhah when he was 85 years old, and that was to satisfy a bureaucratic requirement. See Moshe Meir Yashar, He-Hafetz Hayyim (Tel Aviv, 1958), vol. 1, p. 19. According to R. Isaac Abarbanel, rabbinic ordination as currently practiced arose due to Christian influence. See Nahalat Avot, beginning of ch. 6:
אחרי בואי באיטאליאה מצאתי שנתפשט המנהג לסמוך אלו לאלו. וראיתי התחלתו בין האשכנזים כלם סומכים ונסמכים ורבנים. לא ידעתי מאין בא להם ההתר הזה אם לא שקנאו מדרכי הגוים העושים דוקטורי ויעשו גם הם.
[6] The title “rabbi” is indeed significant. This can be seen by the fact that when Sara Hurwitz was called Maharat there wasn’t any outcry, but when she was given the title “rabba” that is when the controversy really broke out, even though her job description didn’t change in the slightest. Does this mean that there was no objection to a woman functioning as a rabbi as long as she didn’t have the title? Only after she was renamed “rabba” did the RCA adopt a resolution rejecting the “recognition of women as members of the Orthodox rabbinate, regardless of the title.” Yet despite that resolution, there are synagogues where women are still serving, for all intents and purposes, as members of the rabbinate minus the title.
[7] Similar, though not identical, perspectives have recently been offered by Rabbis Norman Lamm, Michael Broyde and Shlomo Brody. See Broyde and Brody, “Orthodox Women Rabbis? Tentative Thoughts that Distinguish Between the Timely and the Timeless,” Hakirah 11 (Spring 2011), pp. 25-58. None of them reject the notion of Orthodox women rabbis at some time in the future. From speaking to many people, my own sense is that a majority of the Modern Orthodox community supports women rabbis (although not necessarily pulpit rabbis). When I say “support,” I mean if asked the question, the reply will be yes. But at the same time, the overwhelming majority of the Modern Orthodox world doesn’t care about this issue at all, and this includes women also. However, I believe that the minority will continue to push this issue, and when women rabbis become a reality, the Modern Orthodox will not reject these women or the congregations that employ them, as we can already see at present with Rabba Hurwitz and other female synagogue rabbis (in everything but name). I think this will happen before the natural development of female poskot who, as already indicated, will by definition be rabbis even without a formal ordination.
One more point that needs to be mentioned with regard to women rabbis is the issue of economic fairness. There are significant tax savings, due to parsonage, that an ordained clergyman receives from the government. While it is true that R. Michael Broyde has written that even women teaching Torah are eligible for this even under current tax laws (see here) and a prominent New York law has firm also expressed this opinion, many yeshiva day schools, acting under the advice of their accountants, have refused to adopt this policy. Some sort of formal ordination for women would settle the parsonage question, and give a financial boost to many of our underpaid teachers.
[8] There are, however, a number of very good articles on halakhah written by women. See e.g., Devorah Koren’s article in the recently published Milin Havivin 5 (2011), available here.
[9] Regarding Lieberman, I would like to call readers’ attention to what appears in the latest Yeshurun, vol. 25. On p. 21 the following footnote appears:
“How Much Greek in Jewish Palestine לגרסאות ופירוש תיבות אלה, ראה דברי הגר”ש ליברמן “
Here Lieberman is given the title due a gadol be-Yisrael. Perhaps this can be seen as making up for the censorship of references to Lieberman (and Louis Ginzberg) in an article by R. Mordechai Gifter that appeared in an earlier Yeshurun. See Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox, p. 32 n. 117. After my book appeared, I was informed by one of the editors of Yeshurun that the censorship of R. Gifter’s piece was carried out by the one who prepared the article for print, and the editors knew nothing about this and were upset when they learnt what had occurred.
On p. 632 of the new Yeshurun there is a letter from R. David Zvi Hillman to Prof. Shlomo Zalman Havlin in which he states the following: In the early volumes of the Encylopedia Talmudit Lieberman was referred to as ר”ש ליברמן, a point I noted in Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox. Yet American rabbis protested and insisted that he not be mentioned. These rabbis are identified with the Rabbinical Council of America: מהסתדרות הרבנים ר”ל המזרחניקים. In response to this, R. Zevin from that point on only mentioned the name of Lieberman’s books but not Lieberman himself. A Bar Ilan search reveals that vol. 13 is the last volume where ר”ש ליברמן is mentioned. (Vol. 15 was the last volume to appear in R. Zevin’s lifetime. See Zevin, Ishim ve-Shitot [Jerusalem, 2007], p. 40 [first pagination]).
Why would R. Zevin agree to this? The answer is obvious: money. The Mizrachi in America was an important source of funds for the Encyclopedia Talmudit.
[10] The term “rabbanit” was primarily used for the wife of a rabbi. See Robert Bonfil, Rabbis and Jewish Communities in Renaissance Italy, p. 77 n. 186. My point is only that it was also used for scholarly women.
[11] The continuation of the shiur is also of great interest, as he explains that if one ends up in a hotel on Shabbat and sees that the lights in the hall go one every time one leaves one’s room, it is still permissible to walk in the hallway and it is not even regarded as a pesik reisha.
[12] See the biography and picture of her here. For pictures of Flora and her family, see also here.
[13] Rivka bat Meir of Prague (died 1605) was another learned woman who was called “rabbanit”, see Frauke von Rohden, ed. Meneket Rivkah (Philadelphia, 2009), pp. 6-7. Rivka authored the Yiddish mussar work Meineket Rivka, published in Prague, 1609. On the title page she is referred to as הרבנית הדרשנית . (In the Altneuschul memorial book it also says that she preached. See Von Rohden, p. 6) Here is the first page of the book, where she is again referred to as “rabbanit”.
Lest anyone misunderstand, I must stress that Rivka only served as a rabbi and preacher for other women, and was therefore not a prototype for twenty-first century women rabbis. My point in referring to her is to highlight the use of the term “rabbanit” as designating a learned woman.
[14] Teshuvot Pesakim u-Minhagim, vol. 2, ed. Kahana, nos. 155-156.
[15] See Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 1, pp. 65-66.
[16] I originally wrote Levinsohn, and thank a helpful reader for the correction. Loewisohn’s essay originally appeared in his posthumously published Mehkerei Lashon (Vilna, 1849).
[17] Incidentally, the note as it appears in the Vilna Mishnah has also been altered from what appears in the original work. In the original it states אשר אינם על טהרת לשון עבר, and in order that people understand what Loewisohn was saying, these words were altered to read: אשר המה כפי תכונת לשון הארמי
[18] See here.
[19] See here. As one of the commenters pointed out to this post, the women appear to be mermaids. He helpfully provided this link.
[20] For my essay on R. Ovadiah, see here.
[21] See Yabia Omer, vol. 5, Orah Hayyim no. 37, Yehaveh Da’at, vol. 1, no. 9, vol. 5 no. 32.
[22] R. Aharon Lichtenstein also has a preface to the book, where his ambivalence about the new approach comes through very clearly. This short essay deserves its own analysis.



Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 1

Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 1
By Marc B. Shapiro
It is now time to announce the names of those who were able to answer the quiz questions I posed. The only two people to answer both questions correctly were Alex Heppenheimer and Yonason Rosman. I fortunately had two CDs so both of them received the prize.

Question no. 1 was: The word for turkey is תרנגול הדו. There is a dagesh in the dalet. Why? Bring a proof for your answer from Berakhot between page 34a and 38a.

Alex Heppenheimer emailed as follows: “The dagesh represents a missing nun in the word הדו. The Aramaic form, in Berachot 36b, is הנדואי. (There is also similarly הנדויין in Yoma 34b and ר’ יהודה הנדואה in Kiddushin 22b.)”

This is correct. The name India (and thus also Hindu) originates with the Persians and Greeks for the land beyond the Indus River. You can see in the Aramaic terms referred to by Heppenheimer that the nun is part of the word. See also the Targum to Esther 1:1 where הדו is translated as .הנדיא Bava Batra 74b, Avodah Zarah 16a, and Bekhorot 37b have other forms of the word, all including the nun.[1] Berakhot 37b refers to נהמא דהנדקא, i.e., “Indian bread.” Targum Ps. Jonathan to Gen. 2:12 translates translates חוילה as הינדקי.

(As to why turkey was referred to by those in Spain, and later the rest of Europe, as “Indian fowl”, that is because when it was first brought back to Europe it was believed to be coming from the area around India, which is where Columbus himself thought that he had ended up.)

For those who are interested in grammatical matters like how the dagesh is used, let me recommend a new book, Adir Amrutzi’s Dikdukei Aviah (Tel Aviv, 2010). In speaking of nuns that drop off, on p. 13 he calls attention to Kiddushin 70a where the word אתרונגא appears. The nun in this word shows us that the plural of etrog is not etrogim, but etrugim, with a dagesh in the gimel and a kubutz under the resh. The singular word etrog should be written as אתרג (All this follows the pattern of tof-tupim [תף-תפים], dov-dubim [דב-דבים]. When the vav holam is in the word, the holam sound remains: חול-חולות, עוף-עופות).

Returning to India, the passage in Berakhot 36b reads: “The preserved ginger which comes from India (הנדואי) is permitted.” The problem is that when you look at Rashi, for his translation of הנדואי he writes: כושיים.

Cushi’im means “Ethiopians” (Translating “Cush” as “Ethiopia” does not imply that it corresponds to the borders of modern day Ethiopia. Some even prefer “Nubia” to Ethiopia”, as Ethiopians are Semitic while Nubians are “Hamitic” [and Cush was a son of Ham]. It perhaps also can refer generally to black Africa. This can explain Pesahim 94a which states that Egypt is one sixtieth of Cush. Also, the Targum to II Chron. 21:16 translates כושים as אפריקאי.)

So where does Rashi get the idea that Cushites are Indians? Did he not know that הנדואי means India? In his commentary to Kiddushin 22b he writes as follows:


הנדואה: מארץ כושי כוש מתרגמינן הנדואה

We see the same identification by Rashi in Yoma 81b.[2] Since the book of Esther distinguishes between India (הדו) and Cush, and Rashi identifies הנדואה with Cush, one might be tempted to conclude that Rashi didn’t realize that הנדואה is the same as הדו. But is it possible that he wouldn’t know this?

And to confuse matters even more, in Avodah Zarah 16a, where הינדואה is mentioned, Rashi explains that it means ארץ הדו.

So not only do we have the problem of Rashi identifying הנדואה as Cush, but we also have the problem of consistency, because in one instance he identifies the place correctly. To add one more thing to the mix, in his commentary to Sukkah 36a Rashi states that Cush is further from the Land of Israel than it is from Babylonia. This means that Rashi thought that Cush is to the east of Babylonia. In other words, Rashi does not believe that Cush is Ethiopia.[3]

So where does Rashi get this notion? He actually gives us his source in his commentary to Yoma 34b, where he refers to the Targum to Jeremiah 13:23. This verse famously states: “Can the Cushi change his skin, or the leopard his spots?” If you look at the Targum on this verse Cushi is translates as .הנדואה In the Targum to Isaiah 11:11 Cush is also identified as India.

So again, I ask, what is going on here? How could the Targum translate Cushi as “Indian”?

P. S. Alexander writes as follows: “It was a common view in ancient geography, shared by Ptolemy and probably also the author of the book of Jubilees . . . that Ethiopia was joined to India in the east. It is this idea that lies behind the [talmudic] statement that Cush and Hodu are adjacent.”[4] He also notes that the Indians dark skin was one reason for the identification. Furthermore, Alexander tell us, there was an ancient belief that there was a land connection between Ethiopia and India south of the Indian Ocean.

Since we have been speaking of India,[5] let me share with you what I found in R. Hayyim Hirschensohn’s Nimukei Rashi on Bamidbar (a copy of which I will give out to the winner of my next quiz[6]). On p. 81b he suggests that the revolt in India against English rule was a punishment of England for splitting the Land of Israel when it created Transjordan.

Returning to the quiz, my second question was: There is a rabbinic phrase that today is used to praise a Torah scholar, but in talmudic days was used in a negative fashion. What am I referring to?

Megillah 28b speaks of a צנא דמלא סיפרי . Today this expression is used to praise scholars. Yet if you look at the talmudic passage its meaning is the exact opposite. Rashi explains:
אינו אלא כסל שמילאוהו ספרים ואין מבין מה בתוכה אף שונה הלכות ולא שימש ת”ח ללמוד שיבינוהו טעמי משנה ופעמים שדברי משנה סותרין זה את זה וצריך לתרצה כגון הכא במאי עסקינן וכגון הא מני רבי פלוני היא וכגון חסורי מיחסרא אינו יודע מה שונה.

Rashi’s explanation should remind people of a phrase used by R. Bahya Ibn Paquda in Hovot ha-Levavot 3:4. In its medieval Hebrew translation it became famous: חמור נושא ספרים. I first heard this expression in yeshiva. Only later did I realize that it came from R. Bahya, and only some time later did I learn that R. Bahya didn’t invent it. Rather, it originates in the Quran 62:5.[7]

* * *

Since this post is not up to my normal length, let me make some more comments. At least one person thinks that my criticism of Artscroll regarding Kalir is unfair. If you recall, I originally criticized them for identifying Kalir as a tanna. In my last post I mentioned that in the first edition of the Artscroll Machzor this identification is rejected, and only in subsequent editions does the Machzor state that Kalir was a tanna. I also claimed that Artscroll knows the truth but in order to mollify its critics, changed what it originally wrote.

This, incidentally, is not the only time that I assume that Artscroll knows what it is writing is incorrect, but writes so anyway. I have a good example of this in the book I am currently working on, so I don’t want to give it away now. I already noted another example in Limits, where I call attention to the introduction to the Artscroll Chumash which states: “Rambam sets forth at much greater length the unanimously held view that every letter and word was given by God to Moses” (emphasis added). This statement, that the view of the Rambam is unanimously held, is false. Furthermore, Artscroll knows it is false, and in its commentary to Deut. 34:5 it mentions the talmudic view that the last verses were given to Joshua.[8]

Here is another example along these lines that I think readers will find interesting. It comes from the new Artscroll Midrash Rabbah, and was called to my attention by R. Avrohom Lieberman (who already called my attention to the Kalir change in the Machzor).

In explaining Tikun Soferim, Artscroll’s note states that this “cannot, Heaven forbid” be taken literally. Yet the editors of Artscroll, who are learned men, know perfectly well that there are traditional sources that state precisely this (See Limits, pp. 98ff). There is no question that the intent of the words “Heaven forbid” is to make the reader think that Artscroll’s perspective is unanimously held.

Since we are now on the subject of Artscroll (the most important and influential Orthodox publishing venture of all time), and lots of people want me to post more on this topic, let me give one final example.[9] It comes from Ecclesiastes, as I dealt with this book in the last series of posts. The upshot of what I and others have already pointed out is something everyone already knew, namely, that Artscroll has a religious agenda. Much like the New York Times’ agenda can be seen not only in the editorial page, but in the news reports as well, so too Artscroll’s agenda is seen not only in the “overviews,”[10] but in the selection of commentaries also. There is enough material for a very long and detailed article spelling all this out.

Eccl. 2:8 states: .עשיתי לי שרים ושרות
What does this mean? The simple explanation is that the author, traditionally Solomon, is telling us about all the wonderful things he amassed with which to enjoy himself, and among them are “men singers and women singers.” Artscroll translates the passage as “I provided myself with various musical instruments.” Now this might be an apologetic translation, but if so, it is not Artscroll that is to be too criticized, but the Talmud, Gittin 68a, since according to Rashi this is how the Talmud explains the words.[11] Artscroll is obviously within its rights to adopt this understanding, even if one assumes that this explanation is not in accord with the simple sense of the verse.

The problem comes with the next passage in the Artscroll commentary which states: “Rav Yosef Kara, Alshich, Metzudas Zion and others translate ‘singers.’” I will get to Kara and Alshich shortly, but let’s begin with Metzudat Tziyon, since this is easiest for most people to access as it appears in the Mikraot Gedolot. He writes as follows:

שרים: משוררים זכרים. ושרות: משוררות נקבות

So now I ask my fair-minded readers: Is Artscroll’s statement that Metzudat Tziyon translates שרים ושרות as “singers” accurate? I think the answer is clearly “no”. Metzudat Tziyon translates the words in question as “male singers and female singers,” and yet—don’t tell me you are surprised—in Artscroll this morphs into “singers”. Why would Artscroll fudge the translation? The answer is obvious. They don’t want people to think that Solomon would have listened to women singing. I am not sure why this is so problematic for them. After all, if Solomon engaged in idolatry (at least according to the biblical text’s simple meaning),, hearing women sing is not so far-fetched. In fact, in his comment on some other words in the verse, R. Jacob Lorberbaum[12] writes as follows):

רמז על שעבר על לא ירבה נשים שהזהירה התורה

Lorberbaum, therefore, has no difficulty in seeing the verse as pointing to misdeeds of Solomon.

Let us now see what Kara and Alshich say on the verse, since they too were quoted by Artscroll. Kara’s commentary is printed in Otzar Tov, ed., Berliner and Hoffmann (Berlin, 1886-1887), p. 10: עשיתי לי שרים ושרות: תיקנתי לי זכרים ונקיבות לשורר לפניי

Alshich explains the verse to be referring to משוררים ומשוררות

So we see that the commentators Artscroll refers to are explicit that the meaning of the passage is “male and female singers.”

Among other sources that interpret this way are Kohelet Rabbati, ad loc:


שרים ושרות: זמרין וזמרתא

Yalkut Shimoni, Kohelet no. 968:

עשיתי לי שרים ושרות: משוררים זכרים ונקבות.

See also the Targum to Eccl. 2:8, where שרים ושרות is translated as .זמריא וזמריתא

R. Moses Almosnino, Yedei Moshe (Tel Aviv, 1986), Eccl. 2:8 (p. 58), even explains why the female singers were desirable, as they helped create a better harmony:


על כן אמר שהיו לו שרים ושרות שהם המשוררים והמשוררות, אנשים ונשים יחד, שבהתמזגם יהיו הקולות ערובות, שקול האשה דקה וקול האיש הוא קול יותר עב, ובהתמזגם יחד יצא השיר בנועם.

When the Jews returned from Babylonia to the Land of Israel in the days of Ezra and Nehemiah, the Bible (Ezra 2:65, Nehemiah 7:65) states explicitly that they came with משוררים ומשוררות, “male and female singers.”

As for how Solomon could listen to women sing, for those who feel the need to answer this question, perhaps Solomon agreed with those authorities who feel that there is no blanket prohibition on hearing a woman’s singing voice,[13] a viewpoint that has recently been resurrected by Rabbis Moshe Lichtenstein,[14] David Bigman[15] and Avraham Shammah.[16] According to this perspective, only singing that is sexually arousing is forbidden.[17] Let us not forget that the Talmud speaks of a woman’s voice. It is the post-Talmudic authorities who clarify that this refers to a singing voice, but does this mean any singing voice or only one that in the minds of normal men could be arousing?

R. Marc Angel agrees with the rabbis mentioned in the last paragraph. He writes: “When the prohibition of “kol ishah” is applied to all instances of women singing in the presence of men, this is a distortion of the intent of the halakha. . . . Men and women may sing in the presence of those of the other gender, as long as the songs are of a religious nature, or of a general cultural nature (e.g., opera, folk songs, lullabies).”[18]

R. Yonatan Rosenzweig doesn’t go so far as to permit one to attend a concert with a female singer, but he does say that since today many people are used to hearing recordings of women’s voices, that possibly it is even permissible to watch a woman singing on television.[19]

A number of years ago there were ads in New York Jewish papers for a concert by Neshama Carlebach. The ads stated that the concert was open for women, as well as for men for whom the singing was permissible. This was a very strange formulation. Knowing that R. Mordechai Tendler was Neshama’s posek, I asked him about this. He explained to me that the language originated with him and was based on the notion that the prohibition against kol ishah is not a blanket prohibition, but depends on whether the singing is sexually arousing. (This approach can be supported by the view found in some rishonim that kol ishah that is not sexually arousing is only forbidden during keriat shema. Otherwise, there is no prohibition.[20]) Therefore, men who are used to hear women sing and will not be aroused by Neshama are permitted to attend the concert, and this explains the strange language in the ads.[21] Tendler also told me that this view of kol ishah as being what we can call a “situational prohibition” rather than an absolute issur, was held by his grandfather, R. Moshe Feinstein.[22]

This opinion, that whether or not a woman’s singing voice is prohibited depends on how men will react to it, will no doubt strike some as “unorthodox.” This approach is definitely not as widely held today as in years past. Yet many people reading this post can recall a time when kol ishah, as a general prohibition, was simply not an issue for the Modern Orthodox, or even for many of the more right-wing Orthodox. This was no different than the situation in Germany, where pretty much all of the Orthodox, including members of Hirsch’s community, saw no problem in attending the opera.

If you went back to the 1960s, other than the hasidim and the tiny yeshiva world, it would be hard to find an Orthodox Jew in New York City who didn’t see the Broadway performance of “Fiddler on the Roof.” I would even assume that that there were some roshei yeshiva who saw it. Until the 1980s there was no problem with Modern Orthodox synagogues sponsoring trips to Broadway musicals. My own shul even put on a performance of “Fiddler on the Roof” in the early 1980s. That would be unimaginable today at almost all Orthodox shuls.[23] (Yet somehow YU is able to continue its long tradition of a fundraising night at the opera, and I have not heard of any attempt by the roshei yeshiva to end this practice.)

Until the 1980s, girls would also have solo singing roles in the musical productions put on by many Modern Orthodox yeshiva high schools and summer camps. (Was there a Modern Orthodox summer camp where girls did not sing?) Readers can correct me if I am wrong, but as far as I know, only Ramaz, Flatbush, and SAR still have girls singing solos.[24] The other schools that have girls sing have them do so in groups, or at least with one other girl.

To bring us back to the earlier era, where women singing was acceptable in the Modern Orthodox world, let me quote Rabbi Marc Angel:

I was raised in the Sephardic community of Seattle, Washington, and well remember our many family gatherings where romances were sung. Jews of great piety sang right along with those of lesser piety. I do not remember anyone ever objecting to the singing of love songs by men and women. In the early 1980s, Haham Dr. Solomon Gaon, himself a Judeo-Spanish-speaking rabbi, taught classes in Sephardic folklore at my Congregation Shearith Israel in New York City. I well remember him singing love songs, enthusiastically and nostalgically. Both of us participated in a program of Sephardic culture sponsored by the Hebrew College of Boston. A female soloist sang a selection of romances, after which Haham Gaon not only applauded loudly but rose to speak in praise of the singer for her beautiful rendition of the songs. Haham Gaon, who served as chief rabbi of the Spanish and Portuguese Congregations of England and as head of the Sephardic Studies Program of Yeshiva University in New York, was a very prominent Orthodox Sephardic rabbi and a man of impeccable piety.[25]

R. Eliezer Berkovits wrote:


Nowadays, the singing of a woman is not fundamentally different from what the original Halakhah termed “her regular voice.” A woman’s voice, even when she is singing, is nothing unusual today, and it is no more distracting during the Shema prayer than that of a man singing. Only in specific amorous situations as in the Song of Songs, may it have a sensual quality.[26]
In Hirsch’s famous Schiller speech, delivered at his Frankfurt school, a note states that male and female students alternatively sang songs.[27] As I pointed out in my own note to the speech, girls were permitted to sing at Hirsch’s school. Mordechai Breuer, Modernity Within Tradition, p. 411 n. 11, calls attention to a report in Jeschurun 18 (1885), p. 11, of a public function at the school at which a teenage girl sang in the presence of a crowded audience.

In Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, p. 216, I quote Jacob Rosenheim who attempts to explain why Hirsch permitted girls to sing at public examinations in the higher grades (and I also note that this passage was censored in the Netzah translation). A halakhic justification of hearing unmarried girls sing was actually penned by R. Isaac Unna, the rav of Mannheim. The short responsum appears in his Shoalin ve-Dorshin no. 2.

Unna cites the Ba’er Heitev thatקול פנויה מותר . In context, what this means is exactly what it says, namely, that unlike a married woman’s (singing) voice, which is always prohibited, the singing of an unmarried woman is permitted to be heard. When he says this is permitted, he means if it doesn’t cause sexual thoughts. (Moderate sensual thoughts would be permitted according to Maimonides, as I mention below.) If it does, then of course it is forbidden. But this prohibition is a general prohibition against arousing oneself sexually and has nothing to do with the prohibition of kol ishah, which only refers to married women and is apparently based on the assumption that the voice of a married woman is always sexually arousing.[28]

In recent generations, poskim have all written that the פנויה referred to here is one who does not have the status of a Niddah, that is, a pre-pubescent girl. The first source to adopt this approach seems to be the eighteenth-century Peri Megadim, Orah Hayyim 75:3. As far as I can tell, none of the early poskim who discuss the matter even mention this point, and they all assume that פנויה mean an unmarried woman, of any age. This approach also continued among certain poskim even subsequent to the Peri Megadim.

See for example this page R. Jacob Pardo’s Apei Zutrei (Venice, 1797), Even ha-Ezer 21:8:

Pardo is very clear that פנויה means exactly what it says. He compares the halakhah of kol ishah to that of hair covering, and just like only a married woman has to cover her hair, so too it is only a married woman’s voice that is prohibited, not the voice of a single woman. (As mentioned already, this would only be prohibited if it was sexually arousing.) As for extending the prohibition to unmarried women, he sees this as an excessive stringency and applies the rabbinic phrase kol ha-mosif gorea, noting that the people will not listen to such a ruling and this will turn them into brazen sinners.

This is not to say that Pardo approves of listening to single women sing. He doesn’t, and applies to such singing the rabbinic phrase מוטב שיאכלו ישראל בשר תמותות כשרות, which comes from Kiddushin 22a and is stated with reference to something distasteful. It is distasteful, yet permitted nonetheless. Pardo’s careful distinction between what is preferred behavior and what the halakhah actually requires is seen in this comment as well, where he refers to Job. 31:1: “[I made a covenant with mine eyes;] how then should I look upon a maiden?”[29]


הן אמת דלבטל ההרהור יש להחמיר ע”ד ומה אתבונן על בתולה. אך אינו מן הראוי להשוותה לנשואה לאסור מפאת הדין.

Here is a page from R. Aaron ha-Levi, Mateh Aharon (Salonika, 1820), p. 260b, where we see some more interesting comments, including defending a rabbi who permitted listening to the voice of a single woman.

And finally, here is a page from R. Hayyim Kasar’s Shem Tov, a twentieth-century commentary on the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Issurei Biah 21:2. While Kasar is quite strict in forbidding a man to hear the voice of an ervah, even if he is not familiar with her, he is also clear that a penuyah means an unmarried woman and that there is no blanket prohibition on hearing her voice, just like there is no blanket prohibition on seeing the hair of an unmarried woman.

I would only add that this makes perfect sense according to Maimonides. If, as Maimonides says, one is permitted to look at an unmarried woman and enjoy her beauty,[30] it stands to reason that one can listen to the singing of an unmarried woman and also enjoy it.[31]

Returning to German Orthodoxy, Der Israelit was the newspaper of the German separatist community. Yet it seems to have had no problem highlighting an Orthodox female opera singer and stressing her commitment to Orthodoxy.[32] Mordechai Breuer called attention to this last point, and I assume that he didn’t have any knowledge of opera or he would have pointed out that the female singer referred to by the paper, Rosa Olitzka (1873-1949), was quite famous in her day. Here is a picture of her.

Right after telling us that Olitzka is the daughter of the hazan of the Berlin Adass Jisroel (i.e., R. Esriel Hildesheimer’s separatist community), Der Israelit mentions her starring as Carmen in the London Opera production. One can find a good deal of material about Olitzka online,[33] and can even purchase recordings of hers.[34] Maybe a reader knows whether she remained observant in her later years.

Breuer also refers to the JüdischePresse’s review of the opera “Samson and Delilah”.[35] While Der Israelit was the paper of the Frankfurt Orthodox, Jüdische Presse was published by the Orthodox of Berlin.[36]

The view that kol ishah is not an absolute prohibition, but depends on whether or not the singing is sensual in nature, was also held by R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, at least according to R. Aharon Rakeffet.[37] Rakeffet has also reported on a number of occasions that the Rav attended the opera in Berlin.[38] At the Maimonides School first Hanukkah Banquet in 1939, “the program included Betty Brooks, a prominent radio personality singing a variety of Jewish and English songs, Mabel Wingert, a dancer, and Frost and Helene, society dancers.”[39]

R. Ovadiah Yosef’s viewpoint on kol ishah is also worth noting, especially as it has undergone a change. In the first volume of Yabia Omer, published in 1954, R. Ovadiah deals with the following question (Orah Hayyim no. 6):

נשאלתי בדין קול זמר של אשה בגרמפון או ברדיו, אם יש בו משום קול באשה ערוה, וצריך להזהר שלא לשמעו בעת ק”ש ותפלה.
His formulation reflects the notion we have already seen, expressed by some rishonim, that the prohibition of kol ishah is a special prohibition related to shema (and prayer), rather than a general prohibition on hearing women sing (which if sexually arousing would be forbidden on other grounds.)

Here is how he formulates the question and answer in the table of contents:

קול זמר של אשה ברדיו וגרמפון, אין צריך להזהר מלשמעו בשעת ק”ש ותפלה, כשאינו מכיר את המשוררת, ואין בזה משום קול באשה ערוה
We see from here that there is no problem of kol ishah when you are not familiar with the female singer. In other words, you can recite shema and tefillah while hearing this. Again, however, this is not related to the wider issue of sensual songs. If you are “turned on” by hearing a song even if you don’t know the singer, then it is forbidden at all times. But by the same token, since the prohibition of kol ishah is exclusive to shema and tefillah, the implication is that a woman’s voice at other times is not prohibited if it doesn’t arouse sensual feelings.

Based on this understanding of R. Ovadiah’s responsum, I don’t think there is a contradiction between this teshuvah and R. Ovadiah’s well known love for the music of the Egyptian singing sensation Umm Kulthum.[40] Here is what Umm Kulthum looked like in her younger years.

If R. Ovadiah’s responsum in Yabia Omer intended a blanket prohibition on hearing the voice of a woman you are familiar with, rather than just confining this prohibition to shema and tefillah, then we would be confronted with a tremendous contradiction between the responsum and how R. Ovadiah lived his own life. It is not like R. Ovadiah wrote something in his responsum and did something else in his private life where people couldn’t see. His love of Umm Kulthum’s music was something everyone knew about, and he listened to it in the company of others. Clearly, therefore, his responsum which prohibits listening to the singing of one you are familiar with only applies during shema and tefillah. At other times, it is only prohibited if one is sexually aroused by the music, and since R. Ovadiah was not, he was permitted to listen to Umm Kulthum. Rabbi J. David Bleich is therefore incorrect when he summarizes R. Ovadiah’s responsum as follows: “Rabbi Yosef concurs in this ruling but adds that it is forbidden to listen to a female vocalist who is known to the listener even if the woman in question is known to him only through photographs.”[41] (I hope no one attempts to argue that R. Ovadiah didn’t know what Umm Kulthum looked like. She was only the most prominent celebrity in Egypt, with her picture everywhere.)

I was also informed by R. Avraham Yosef that his father, R. Ovadiah, later retracted his ruling in this responsum that if you are familiar with the singer that you can’t hear her voice in shema and tefillah. I later saw that R. Ovadiah himself states as much in Yabia Omer, vol. 9 no. 108:43:

ומה שכתבתי שם שאם ראה אותה בתמונה ג”כ, אסור, אינו מוכרח, שיש לומר . . . “ביודעה ומכירה”, זהו רק כשראה אותה בחיים חיותה במלא קומתה

If you hear her voice while you are saying shema or reciting blessings, R. Ovadiah advises וירכז מחשבתו לכוין בברכותיוR. Ovadiah’s words בחיים חיותה במלא קומתה might be taken to imply that even if you know the woman from television, there still is no prohibition of kol ishah.

R. Avraham Yosef states that while it is permitted to hear a woman sing even if you know what she looks like, it is not permitted to attend a live performance or even watch on television. R. Avraham assumes that alllive and television performances are prohibited, not only those that could be sexually arousing.[42] It also needs to be stated that despite how I interpreted R. Ovadiah, that female singing is only prohibited if it is sensual music, the upshot of what R. Ovadiah states throughout his writings is that by definition a live female singer is sexually arousing and thus prohibited. Although I think the evidence shows that R. Ovadiah agrees that theoretically kol ishah is only forbidden if it leads to <>hirhurim >, in practice he assumes that <>alllive female singing falls into this category. (I wonder, however, if he would also forbid the live singing of a very old woman, which would in no way be sensual.)


I found another interesting passage regarding kol ishah in the Meshivat Nefesh of R. Yohanan Luria (16th century). On p. 144, after explaining how the women of the desert could sing in front of the men (Ex. 15:21), he writes:

ומזה הטעם ראוי למחות לנשים המשוררות לכלות לפני האנשים רק הבתולות שמותרים בזה כדי לחבב הבחורים לקפוץ עליהם לשם אישות.

He makes the same point on the previous page, and concludes (p. 143):

רק הבתולות ראוי להם שיחבבו עצמם על הבריות לקפוץ אחריהם

What it means is that while married women can’t sing in front of men, unmarried women are permitted to do so in order to attract the attention of the young men, similar to what they did in Temple days when they would dance before the eligible bachelors.

Some might be wondering, how was this permitted since married men will also hear the women sing, and being that they are not in the “market” for a wife, what permission is there for them to listen to and be physically attracted to the young women? I think the answer is obvious, that those men who would have had improper thoughts were not supposed to listen to the women, just as I presume they were not supposed to watch the single women dance in Temple days. Yet the Sages did not ban this dancing because of what some men might be thinking, and similarly, Luria permits the singing by single women and is not concerned that some married men might also be listening. The logic behind Luria’s position is that young men looking for brides are supposed to be attracted to young women. The latter dress up nicely so that the men look at them, they put on makeup for this purpose, and yes, they sing in front of the men, all in order to make themselves attractive.

Here is the title page of Luria’s sefer.

I already mentioned the opera, so before concluding I refer you to S.’s post here.

He points to an early eighteenth-century communal decree in Altona-Hamburg-Wandsbek forbidding attendance at the opera, except for on Hanukkah and Purim when it was permitted. The text is also found in Simhah Assaf, Ha-Onshin Aharei Hatimat ha-Talmud, p. 116.

Finally, I would like to point to a very interesting source that as far as I know has never been mentioned in any of the many halakhic articles dealing with kol ishah. I refer to R. Joseph Hayyim’s Imrei Binah, ch. 3, no. 79. Here is the page.

For those who are unclear as to what he means, he explains it himself in his book Ateret Tiferet im Pelaot Rabot. Here is the title page of the book, which for some reason is not on hebrewbooks.org or Otzar ha-Hokhmah. The text that appears in Imrei Binah also appears in this book, and R. Joseph Hayyim’s explanation is found on p. 116 (no. 202).

According to R. Joseph Hayyim, if the singing of an individual woman is accompanied by instruments, meaning that there are “many voices”, then it is permissible. This is an incredible limud zekhut, because pretty much every singer today is accompanied by music.[43]
[1] Referring to the beginning of Esther, where Ahasuerus is said to rule from Hodu to Cush, the Talmud, Megillah 11b, states:
From Hodu to Cush: Rav and Samuel gave different interpretations of this. One said that Hodu is at one end of the world and Cush at the other, and the other said that Hodu and Cush adjoin one another, and that [the meaning is that] as he ruled over Hodu and Cush, so he ruled from one end of the world to the other.
This passage should immediately raise a couple of questions in people’s minds. 1. Since there is no doubt that both amoraim knew where India and Ethiopia were located, why did one of them explain that the two countries are next to each other? How come he didn’t accept the common identification of Cush and Ethiopia? 2. According to the first opinion, that Hodu is at one end of the world and Cush at the other, are we to understand from this that he thought that the world was flat? (I realize that “end of the world” could be used the same way we use it today, but I wonder if that is the peshat.)

[2] See also his commentary to Isaiah 18:1, where he regards Cush as being in the East.

[3] In the last post I spoke a bit about what Rashi regarded as beautiful, based on his commentary to Song of Songs. We also find from other comments of his that he did not regard Cushim as beautiful. Based upon what we have already seen, I assume that for Rashi a Cushi would have an Indian complexion. (See Moed Katan 16b regarding the skin of the Cushites.) In his commentary to Gen. 12:11 he speaks of “black and repulsive people, brothers of the Cushim.” In Num. 12:1 the Torah speaks of the Cushite that Moses married. Rashi does not take this literally and writes: “Because of her beauty she is called Cushite, as one calls his handsome son ‘Cushite’ in order that the evil eye should not have power over him.” (This same passage appears in Midrash Tanhuma 96:13, and see Yitzhak Aviner, Heikhal Rashi [Tel Aviv, 1960], vol. 4, p. 234, that it was inserted from Rashi into the Tanhuma). I think it must be very hard to teach this Rashi in elementary and even high school. One can easily see that if one of the students is a “person of color” or the student’s parent is, that the assumption of this Rashi could be very hurtful to the student. Has any reader had to deal with this?

For the same approach by Rashi, and here too it appears to be his own interpretation (although obviously based on the earlier rabbinic understanding of Cushite), see Sukkah 53a, where it mentions that Solomon had two Cushite servants. Rashi writes:

תרי כושאי: על שם שהיו יפים קרי להו הכי
See Arukh la-Ner, ad loc., who questions Rashi’s explanation, since while the Sages speak of Tziporah as being called Cushite in Num. 12:1 because of her beauty, they never say that a man would be called Cushite if he was handsome. This is precisely why I noted that what Rashi writes here is apparently his own interpretation.

Incidentally, the Artscroll translation to this passage makes as unfortunate error. While the Talmud speaks of “two Cushites”, Artscroll translates תרתי כושאי as “two Cutheans.”


The Vilna Talmud’s version is תרתי כושאי, while Rashi has תרי. Rashi’s text preserves the correct version (see also Arukh ha-Shalem, s. v. כש, p. 348 n. 4) as תרי is masculine while תרתי is feminine. In R. Meir Mazuz’s new book, Darkhei ha-Iyun, p. 5, he deals with these words and calls attention to the common grammatical error when people write תרתי דסתרי. Since דסתרי(=(הסותרים is masculine, the proper formulation is ether תרי דסתרי or תרתי דסתרן.

For more on the identification of Cushite with ugliness, see Jonathan Schorsch, Jews and Blacks in the Early Modern World (Cambridge, 2004), chs. 3-4, and Abraham Melamed, The Image of the Black in Jewish Culture (London, 2003).
[4] “Toponomy of the Targumim,” (unpublished doctoral dissertation, Oxford University, 1974), p. 134.

[5] I think readers will find this document interesting: link (pdf).

It contains the Chief Rabbinate of Israel’s acknowledgment that Hinduism is monotheistic. I don’t even think that one can speak of shituf when it comes to Hinduism. What you have in Hinduism are manifestations of the one God, and this does not appear to violate any Noahide commandment. This is significant since in the Jewish imagination Hinduism has often been seen as a classic example of real idolatry. Thus, right at the beginning of many seforim it states that passages dealing with Gentiles are only referring to idolators in places like India.


Related to the latter point, there is an unbelievable error by the great R. Judah Aszod. In 1833 the Hatam Sofer responded to the following query of a Hungarian rabbi: During Christian religious ceremonies that pass through the city, are Jews permitted to put candles in their windows? The fear was that if the Jews don’t do that, their homes would be attacked on Christian thugs (Hatam Sofer, Yoreh Deah, no. 133 [end]). The Hatam Sofer concluded that while it was permissible to indirectly request a non-Jew to light the candle, it is absolutely forbidden for a Jew to do so.

הישראל אסור לעשות וצריך למסור נפש ע”ז
The same issue is dealt with by the Hatam Sofers’s son in Ketav Sofer, Yoreh Deah no. 84, and a similar issue by his grandson in Da’at Sofer, Yoreh Deah, no. 59. See also R. Eliezer Deutsch, Peri ha-Sadeh, vol. 3 no. 10.

In the Hatam Sofer’s responsum he speaks of the candle lighting that takes place in “India”.

ולענין מה שמסבבים בארץ הודו בע”ז שלהם, וכל הדרים באותו המבוי צריכים להדליק נרות, ויהודים הדרים שם אם אינם מדליקים הם בסכנה מפני ההמונים.
There is no doubt whatsoever that the word “India” is not to be taken literally and that the Hatam Sofer is referring to local Christian practices. After all, he was responding to the question of a Hungarian rabbi! The responsa by his son, grandson, and Deutsch don’t even feel that it is necessary to point this out, as it is so obvious.

It is incredible is that R. Judah Aszod, Yehudah Ya’aleh, Yoreh Deah, no. 170, takes the Hatam Sofer to really be speaking of India, even though as just mentioned, he was responding to a halakhah le-ma’aseh question from Hungary, not from a rabbi in Bombay! This misunderstanding contributes to Aszod’s lenient decision.


לענ”ד הח”ס דוקא קאי על ארץ הודו שמסבבים בע”ז שלהם . . . משא”כ במדינתינו אינו חק המדינה כ”א באיזו מקומות ולא עפ”י המושל אלא מרשעת שונאי ישראל, והדלקת הנרות אצלם נמי רק אין כוונתם להעביר על הדת כ”א שיהודים ישמחו עמהם וזה מותר משום איבה כברמ”א ביו”ד ססי’ קמח . . . וגם בזה”ז לא עובדי ע”ז הן לא מקרי אליל שלהם עכו”ם כמ”ש הש”ך סי’ קנא ס”ק יז.
In this passage he cites two sources. The second one is the Shakh, whom he cites as claiming that the Christian religious item (I assume he means the crucifix) does not have the status of an אליל. However, the Shakh actually says the exact opposite of what Aszod quotes him as saying.

ודוחק לומר דכיון דבזמן הזה לאו עובדי עבודת כוכבים הן לא מיקרי אליל שלהם עבודת כוכבים
The other source he cites is R. Moses Isserles, whose comments are indeed quite significant. I don’t understand why this source is not cited in support of celebrating Thanksgiving even by those who assume that there is some religious component to the holiday.

אם נכנס לעיר ומצאם שמחים ביום חגם ישמח עמהם משום איבה דהוי כמחניף להם ומ”מ בעל נפש ירחיק מלשמוח עמהם אם יוכל לעשות שלא יהיה לו איבה בדבר
Presumably, the opponents of Thanksgiving assume that there is no enmity in not celebrating, so the Rama’s permission doesn’t apply. I wonder though, do the people in Lakewood who require the non-Jewish bus drivers to work on Thanksgiving really think that this insistence doesn’t create enmity?
Returning to the responsum of Aszod, the problems I have pointed to were noted by R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira, Minhat Eleazar, vol. 1 no. 53:3, and he is dumbfounded. It is precisely with regard to this sort of responsum, where the errors are obvious (misunderstanding the clear meaning of the Hatam Sofer, misquoting the Shakh), and it was published posthumously, that people are often tempted to claim that it is not authentic. I won’t go this far, but is it possible that a student wrote the responsum and Aszod just signed his name without examining it carefully?
[6] As with the other volumes of this series, one can find lots of interesting passages in vol. 4. Here are just a few. P. 56b: Moses opposed the eating of meat, but he could not forbid it because the people would regard this as heresy. P. 98b: Hirschensohn mentions the notion, already expressed by the Vilna Gaon, that sometimes the Talmud’s explanation of the Mishnah is to be understood as a form of derash. In other words, the explanation is not in accord with what the Mishnah really intended. He also refers to Berdyczewski and writes zikhrono li-verakhah after his name. P. 14a: There is no obligation in contemporary times for married women to cover their hair.

וזהוא ההיתר שנוהגים היום ברוב המדינות שהנשים מבנות ישראל הולכות בגלוי הראש, אם שהראשונות שבטלו את המנהג היו נקראות עוברות על דת משה אבל הבאים אחריהם אחרי שכבר נתבטל המנהג אין בזה איסור עוד.
This source has not been mentioned in any of the recent discussions about women’s hair covering. I hope to soon discuss Hirschensohn’s viewpoint at greater length, including his radically new understanding of שער באשה ערוה. I will do so as part of a larger discussion of the issue of women’s hair covering.
[7] See S.’s post here.

[8] R. Moshe Taub reminded me of Artscroll’s commentary to Deut. 34:5, which I neglected to mention in my book.
[9] I had been planning to offer one further example, but I was shown to be wrong. Let me explain: A little while ago R. Natan Slifkin had a post on werewolves, citing R. Efraim ben Shimshon’s strange comments in this regard. See here.

Slifkin earlier had written about this in his Sacred Monsters. None of this was a revelation to me since I had earlier seen the material from R. Efraim in R. Yosef Aryeh Lorincz’ Pelaot Edotekha, vol. 2, pp. 136-137. Not surprisingly, Lorincz takes this all very seriously. Readers might recall that I mentioned Lorincz’ book here. I called attention to his discussion of whether it is permitted to eat the flesh and drink the blood of demons. After this post I had a correspondence with someone who wanted to know what I thought about what Lorincz had written. I told him although I don’t know what the halakhah is in this matter, I nevertheless promise to eat the first demon that Lorincz is able to capture. I further told him that I would even volunteer to shecht it. My correspondent wasn’t seeing the comedy in this, as he thought that this was a very serious issue, that someone whom we are told to respect for his Torah knowledge could actually, in the twenty-first century, be discussing such a matter as a real halakhic problem. He was also adamant that if such a book was published by someone who taught at a Modern Orthodox school, the principal should immediately fire the author. Further correspondence revealed that he also didn’t think that anyone who believed in demons should be allowed to teach at Modern Orthodox schools.

My response to him was that I don’t think we need to get all out of shape about demons. To begin with, and readers can correct me if I am wrong, I don’t think that most people in the American haredi world really believe in demons. Yes, I know they study the talmudic passages that refer to demons, and will mention them as the reason for washing one’s hand three times in the morning, but based on conversations I have had with people in the haredi world (admittedly, most of them from the intellectual elite), I don’t think that they take it seriously. (When I say they don’t “believe” in demons, I mean real belief in the role of demons and how they affect humanity, as expressed in the Talmud and elsewhere.) It is almost like the emperor has no clothes, in that they don’t believe it but continue acting as if they do, afraid of what will happen if they are “outed”. (I have found a similar phenomenon with regard to Daas Torah. I have discussed this issue with many people in the haredi world, and have yet to find even one who accepts the version of Daas Torah advocated by so-called Haredi spokesmen and Yated Neeman.) But even if I am wrong in this, there are lots more important things to keep out of Modern Orthodox schools than an occasional reference to demons. How about the negative comments about non-Jews and even racist statements (sometimes under the guise of Torah) that children are exposed to in Modern Orthodox schools? How about rebbes telling the students that there is such a thing as spontaneous generation, which is akin to telling the students to sign up with Flat Earth society?

Getting back to werewolves, there is someone much better known than R. Efraim who refers to them, namely, Rashi. In his commentary to Job 5:23, Rashi explains that חית השדה means werewolf. (He offers the Old French, for which see Moshe Catane, Otzar ha-Loazim, no. 4208, and Joseph Greenberg, Otzar Loazei Rashi be-Tanakh, p. 211) He further adds that this is also the meaning of אדני השדה (See Kilayim 8:5). I have to admit that I was all set in this post to mention that Artscroll, which always cites Rashi’s interpretation, in this example chose to omit it. Without even examining the commentary, I was sure that Artscroll would choose to avoid mentioning anything about werewolves. Yet when I actually opened up the commentary, prepared by R. Moshe Eisemann, I was pleasantly surprised to see that he indeed tells the truth, and the whole truth, i.e.,, that Rashi was referring to a werewolf. I found something else in this volume that I didn’t expect. In an appendix he discusses whether the commentary attributed to Rashi was actually written by him. Unfortunately, Eisemann did not feel that he should inform the reader which academic sources he used in preparing this appendix.
[10] I don’t understand why Artscroll uses this word. The overviews found at the beginning of their books are actually not overviews. (Look up the word if you are not sure what it means). They should have been called what they are, namely, “introductions.”
[11] The Talmud explains sharim ve-sharot as מיני זמר, and Rashi, Eccl. 2:8, clearly based on the Talmud, explains sharim ve-sharot as מיני כלי זמר. Either Rashi’s text of the Talmud also included the word כלי , or this is how he understood the talmudic expression מיני זמר. (Literally, מיני זמר means “types of music”, and when the word כלי is added it means “various musical instruments.”)
[12] His commentary, Ta’alumot Hokhmah, is found in the standard Mikraot Gedolot.
[13] According to R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, the Rambam’s opinion is that kol ishah is only forbidden if one derives sensual pleasure from it. See Seridei Esh, vol. 2 no. 8.
[14] See here.
[15] See here.
[16] See here.
[17] R. Yuval Sherlo does not permit one to attend the opera, but if one is stuck in a situation, such as a soldier at a military event, then he rules that it is permissible to remain even though women are singing. See here.
[18] Conversations 12 (Winter 2012), pp. 43, 47; also available here. At the end of the article, Angel concludes: “Married women need not cover their hair, as long as their hair is maintained in a modest style. The wearing of wigs does not constitute a proper hair-covering for those married women who wish to cover their hair. Rather, such women should wear hats or other head coverings that actually cover their hair.” He also discusses hair covering on YouTube here.
[19] “Kol Ishah Bimeinu,” Tehumin 29 (2009), p. 143.
[20] See Seridei Esh, vol. 2 no. 8, and see also the helpful summary of positions available here.

[21] In support of this view, one can cite Hagahot Maimoniyot, Hilkhot Keriat Shema 3:16:
וקול אע”ג דאינה נראית לעינים הרהור מיהא איכא וכל אלה דוקא שאין רגילות להגלות אבל בתולה הרגילה בגלוי שער לא חיישינן דליכא הרהור וכן בקול לרגיל בו
[22] It seems to me that Tendler’s description of R. Moshe’s opinion is contradicted by Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim 1, no. 26, Orah Hayyim 4, no. 15.

[23] For a contemporary example of an Orthodox synagogue allowing women to sing, see here.

[24] See e.g., here, here, here and here.
[25] Foundations of Sephardic Spirituality (Woodstock, VT, 2006), p. 186.
[26] Jewish Women in Time and Torah (Hoboken, 1990), p. 62. Berkovits also understood the matter of women’s hair covering in the same fashion, and did not regard it as an obligation in contemporary times (heard from Berkovits’ son, Prof. Avraham Berkovits).

[27] See here.
[28] Note the language of the Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 21:1: ואסור לשמוע קול ערוה או לראות שערה

I don’t think anyone today assumes that there is a prohibition in seeing the uncovered hair of an ervah, if one is not sexually aroused, the reason being that we see it all the time and are thus used to it. By the same logic, if one is unaffected by hearing a woman sing, even if she is married, there should be no prohibition even according to how I explained the Ba’er Heitev. This is indeed the conclusion of R. Aharon de Toledo, Divrei Hefetz (Salonika, 1795), p. 113a:

עלה בידינו דהא דאמרי’ קול באשה ערוה היינו כשהיא הומיה ושוררת שירי עגבים ומתכווין ליהנות ממנה
However, the subsequent words of Toledo show that he only permits listening to a woman who is singing non-sensual songs on her own. He specifically forbids female songs directed towards men, as in a concert.

[29] The verse from Job is used in an Aggadic sense in Bava Batra 16a and Avot de-Rabbi Nathan, ch. 2, and then used by Maimonides in Hilkhot Issurei Biah 21:3.


ומותר להסתכל בפני הפנויה ולבודקה, בין בתולה בין בעולה, כדי שיראה אם היא נאה בעיניו, יישאנה; ואין בזה צד איסור. ולא עוד, אלא ראוי לעשות כן. אבל לא יסתכל דרך זנות, הרי הוא אומר “ברית, כרתי לעיני; ומה אתבונן, על בתולה”
Since he cites a verse from the book of Job, it appears that looking דרך זנות is only a rabbinic prohibition.
[30] Commentary on Sanhedrin 7:4. What this means is that one can look at a possible future wife and appreciate her beauty, for after all, one is supposed to be attracted to her. As we have seen already, in Hilkhot Issurei Biah 21:3, Maimonides adds a caveat. He states that is forbidden to look at an unmarried woman דרך זנות. What this means is that while one can look at and admire the beauty of a single woman (what I earlier referred to as “moderate sensual thought), one cannot leer at her, i.e., with lascivious intent.
[31] When Maimonides speaks of enjoying an unmarried woman’s beauty, I am certain that he is speaking of a Jewish woman, whom you can marry.
[32] Breuer, Modernity Within Tradition, p. 150. See Der Israelit, April 5, 1894, p. 503. See my post here, where I deal with the unsubstantiated rumor that Hirsch attended the opera. I quote from Prof. Breuer’s email to me where he writes: “When I went to the opera as a boy of 13-14 years my father [Isaac Breuer] did not express his dissatisfaction.”

[33] See e.g. here.
[34] See e.g. here.
[35] Modernity Within Tradition, p. 150.
[36] Since I am speaking about German Orthodoxy, let me use this opportunity to correct something I wrote. In Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, p. 53, I record the recollection of Judith Grunfeld, “daughter of a learned German rabbi,” that she had never heard of a prohibition against women singing in front of men until she went to Poland (where she taught at the Beth Jacob school). Dr. Yitzchok Levine pointed out to me that Grunfeld’s father, while living in Germany, was actually Hungarian.
[37] Listen to his shiur from Feb. 8, 2010, available here, beginning at 48:20. Rakefet also quotes R. Aharon Lichtenstein that the Rav held that in modern times there is no obligation for married women to cover their hair. Listen to the shiur just mentioned beginning at 62 minutes. I will return to this point in a future post when I deal with R. Michael Broyde’s article on the topic.

[38] See, however, R. Hershel Schachter, Mi-Peninei ha-Rav, p. 269, that the Rav told YU students that due to kol ishah it was forbidden for them to sell tickets to the opera (presumably referring to the annual YU fundraising event). This is not necessarily a contradiction to Rakefet’s point. If the Rav felt that a woman’s singing voice was only prohibited if it was sexually arousing, who can say if that applies to the person you sell the ticket to? Perhaps that is why he told them it was prohibited.
[39] Seth Farber, An American Orthodox Dreamer: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Boston’s Maimonides School (Hanover, NH, 2004), p. 165 n. 19.
[40] See Zvi Alush and Yossi Elituv, Ben Porat Yosef (Or Yehuda, 2004), p. 37. See p. 408 that to this day he listens to her music, and see also the testimony to this in Or Torah, Tevet 5770, pp. 383-384. According to R. Avraham Shammah, cantors used her tunes for various tefillot, a practice that continues to this day. See here, p. 10.
[41] Contemporary Halakhic Problems, vol. 2 p. 151. One could be led to this summary by reading the conclusion of the responsum, which states as follows:

המורם מכל האמור דביודעה ומכירה אפי’ ע”י תמונה אסור לשמוע קולה בגרמפון או ברדיו, אבל אם אינו מכירה מותר, ואין בזה משום קול באשה ערוה.
However, this conclusion needs to be read in conjunction with the question as well as the summary of the answer in the table of contents, both of which are quoted in the text and clearly state that the issue is kol ishah in the context of shema and tefillah.

[42] See here.

[43] For another important limud zekhut by R. Joseph Hayyim, see here. In the newly translated text, we see that R. Joseph Hayyim believed that the practice of European Jewish women to go with uncovered heads can be justified, and is not to be regarded as sinful.



Review: Daniel Sperber, On Changes in Jewish Liturgy

Review: Daniel Sperber, On Changes in Jewish Liturgy

By Dan Rabinowitz and Eliezer Brodt


Daniel Sperber, On Changes in Jewish Liturgy, Options & Limitations, Urim Publications, Israel: 2010, 221, [1] pp.

The ever prolific Professor Daniel Sperber’s most recent book focuses on Tefillah. This book, as some of his others, has drawn some sharp criticism, most notably from Professor Aryeh Frimer in Hakirah (available here). To be sure, this post does not attempt to defend Professor Sperber or the feminist movement with regard to these issues, but, in the course of our review we hope to offer some relevant comments that will further this important discussion. Our main interest remains the substance of the book on this important topic – changes to the Jewish liturgy.

This book grew out of a lecture given at the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance. Professor Sperber then decided to revisit the broader issue of the parameters of acceptable changes to the liturgy.

The prayerbook has become – and this is not a new trend – a battleground. In 19th century, the battle lines were drawn between Reform and Orthodox movements. Of course, earlier heterodox movements had also created their own prayerbooks, such as the Karaites, but in those instance, the praybook was more a reflection and outgrowth of the movement and was not, in and of itself, one of the wedge issues. In the modern period, however, the advent of the Reform movement argued for a variety of changes to the prayerbook to account and adjust for modernity. In this instance, it was both the substance of the prayers as well as their execution (Hebrew or not) that was at issue See generally, Jacob J. Petuchowski, Prayerbook Reform in Europe, New York, 1968.

Earlier examples of prayerbook controversy touched upon other theological debates; for example, some questioned the inclusion of Machnesi Rachamim as it can be read as a request for assistance from angels and not God (see here). Others questioned the inclusion of piyutim generally. Ibn Ezra’s critical comments regarding this topic are well-known. Sometimes prayer itself was employed for polemical purposes. Naftali Weider discusses a version of the blessing over the Friday night candles that incorporated a polemic against Karaism (see N. Weider, Hisgavshos Nusach HaTefillah B’Mizrach U’BeMaariv, Jerusalem, 1998, 329). And, of course, one must mention the oft-discussed blessing against heretics [in some versions] in the Shemoneh Esrei (see, most recently, Ruth Langer, Cursing the Christians?: A History of the Birkat HaMinim, Oxford Univ. Press: 2011).
Thus, it is scarcely surprising that discussing changes to the prayerbook might arouse controversy. That said, we must note – and this is the essential point of this book – the texts of the prayers have never been static, and they have been constantly evolving. At times this evolution was controversial while at other times the evolution and changes to the liturgy appears to have passed almost without notice.
Dr. Sperber focuses in this book on historic changes in an effort to support change today, mainly changes that are more sensitive to women. Sperber discusses a variety of changes to the prayerbook that are non-standard. For example, we have added whole sections, a liturgy for Kabbalat Shabbat (essentially created in the 16th century), abbreviated others – yotzrot, piyutim – and changed texts for a variety of reasons – grammatical, Kabbalah, and nationalist. For the most part, to those familiar with the history of the prayerbook, as well as Sperber’s prior works, much of this book is well-tread territory. Moreover, as Sperber notes, the notion of a a fixed nusach is absurd insofar as a large segment for those professing orthodoxy regarding the siddur, themselves pray in an entirely new nusach, one developed in the the past 200 years, namely the rite known as nusach Sefard. While this nusach may have antecedents in the Sefad Kabbalistic movement, that only moves it back to the 16th centruy, a veritable spring chicken vis-a-vis the purported codifiers of tefilah, Anshe Kenneset ha-Gedolah.
Sperber’s focus is on changes that incorporate women more directly into the tefilot as well as adapting the tefilot to be more sensitive to women. He then discusses exactly what the acceptable parameters for change are and discusses specific examples of historical change. He provides detailed discussions both in the body of the work as well as the numerous appendixes.
Sperber does an admirable job distinguishing between permanently fixed language to which change is prohibited, and the lesser fixed portions for which change is permissible. Sperber notes that even is quasi-fixed prayers, like those appearing in the first three and last three blessing in Shemonei Esreh, historically, we have altered those blessings. On this point Professor Frimer takes issue with some of Sperber’s conclusions, but some of Frimer’s criticism is rather weak. Rather than directly addressing the issue, Frimer attempts to delegitimatize and discredit the manuscripts that Sperber relies upon. (p. 76 note 38) Frimer merely states that we know little about those manuscripts that Sperber relies upon, or, in other words, Frimer, without any compelling argument or proof doubts the veracity of the manuscripts. This argument has been used by many in what has been coined the Chazon Ish’s Shitta about new manuscripts and the like. In this case the attempt is really to go further and dismiss much of the Geonic literature that has been discovered in the past century and, and Frimer’s reliance upon this argument demonstrates a serious lack of awareness of the scholarship in the area of manuscript authentication (a topic which we hope to return to at length in a future post).
Indeed, independently of the manuscript sources, Sperber goes even further showing that during the Ten Days of Repentance, we add and alter the first and last (supposedly immutable) blessing, but those alterations cannot be dated to Hazel or the Anshei Kenest ha-Gedola but date rather to the Geonim. Some, however, have argued that changes by the Geonim or Rishonim proves nothing, as they are special but we are not. Their argument goes (and Frimer is an ardent supporter of this) that somehow those persons were allowed to change prayer. Unfortunately, this argument is unsatisfying. Simply put, that rationale begs the question of what power did those persons use to make changes? Was it based upon their own view that they were worthy of changing the prayers? That is, if the only rule is “great people can change prayer” who told them at the time that they qualified as “great people?” Or, is this entirely post-hoc rationale just the tautology that because they changed the prayers and only special people can change prayer they must be special people? Sperber, however, has surveyed the literature and offered concrete rules of when and how to change the prayers that do not fall prey to these logical infirmities. Indeed, he would concede that certain prayers are immutable.
Sperber’s also takes a more reasonable view of which prayers are ripe for change. His view is that if some find it offensive, we should, if we can, attempt to appease those persons. Others have taken the somewhat counter-intuitive position that even if some find a prayer offensive if there is a non-offensive explanation for the prayer, that is satisfactory. Of course, this position ignores the very real fact that some may be offended by those prayers, no matter how many explanations are offered. Sperber’s position is that insofar as there is no prohibition to change, why not attempt to remove the offensive text entirely?
One of the changes that Sperber suggests is related to the שלא עשני אשה controversy and concerns the suggestion to remove it completely as it is offensive toward woman. This suggestion has been discussed in numerous articles, and Sperber cites many of them. Everyone feels they can add their two cents on the suggestion, so we will too. I will begin by saying that having davened in many shuls of all kinds in my life, I have almost never even heard them say this berachah out loud in the first place. While many woman, especially today, find this Beracha offensive and for this alone there might be grounds to remove it (as other berachos were removed over the ages for similar reasons – see Tzvi Groner’s excellent book for a good list) I (EB) personally do not understand why this issue is so contentious.
I will just quote three ideas from others on the topic which I honestly believe is not apologetic but, of course, some may disagree.
R. Yaakov Emden writes:
מה ששמעו אזני בשבוע זו… כי ערל אחד חרש רעה על היהודים שמברכים בכל יום ברוך שלא עשני גוי, אמר היהודים אינם מחשיבים לגוי אלא כבהמה מפקירים דמו וקנינו רוכושו, אמרתי אני שגם זה הבל זה הערל לא לבד ערל בשר אלא גם ערל לב הוא, ושלא היה לו לב לדעת מה שאנו אומרים עוד שתי ברכות הסמכות לזו ברוך שלא עשני עבד, ברוך שלא עשני אשה, הלא בודאי אין אנו נוהגין מנהג הפקר לא אפילו בעבד כנעני שחייב במצות שאשה חייבת בהן, ואמר איוב אם אמאס משפט עבדי כו’, אצ”ל באשה שלנו שאנו חייבים בכבודה וכבדה יותר מגופינו, הלא יראה מזה שנשתבש אותו המוציא דבה עלינו בעבור זה, אבל הענין ברכה זו לפי שהגוי אינו מצווה בתרי”ג מצות כמונו יוצאי מצרים ולכן אינו מצווה גם כן על שביתת שבת ויום טוב כמונו, כמו שהוא ענין בברכותינו על ,שלא עשנו עבד ושלא עשנו אשה שהעבד גם כן אינו מחוייב במצות רק כאשה, ואשה אינה חייבת רק במצות עשה שאין הזמן גרמא, ונכנעת תחת בעלה והוא ימשול בה, מ”מ חביבין עלינו כגופותינו כן הוא הענין בגוי [הקשורים ליעקב, עמ’ ריט].
R. Reuven Margolios writes:
ולאשר האשה אינה נענשת על בטול המצות עשה שהזמן גרמא וחלקה בעולם הבא כחלק האיש הי’ מקום למי אשר לא הגיע לחזות בנועם ה’ לומר מי יתן והייתי אשה שאז נפטרתי מעול כל מצות אלו לכן תקנו חכמינו ע”ה שימסור כל איש מודעה כי המצות האלו כן תקנו גם הודאה כוללת לכל זרע ישראל שנתחייבו במצות הרבה בכדי להגיע לחיי עולם הבא בעוד אשר הנכרי המקיים מצותיו השבע הוא בן עולם הבא והי’ מקום להמתרשל לומר מי יתן והייתי בן לאחד מגוי הארצות ולא נתחייבתי בכל אלו, לשלול זה יודה כל בן או בת ישראל לה’ על שלא עשהו גוי להורות שעושה המצות מאהבה (טל תחייה, עמ’ מז).
In regard to the topic of feminism in general see the Kesav ve-ha-Kabbalah who writes an important insight in his work on the Siddur:
והתבונן עוד כי מצות התורה יש להם סדר מיוחד לאיש איש כפי כח הכנתו הנפשית, יש מן המצות הערוכים ושמורים לכל נפשות זרע ישראל, ומהם נערכים במשקל ובמדה נאמנה לנפש זולת נפש, כי מהן המחוייבות רק לכהנים לבדם, ומהן ללויים לבדן ומהן לכהן גדול לבדו, ומהן לזכרים לבדם ולא לנקבות, כי לפי שהתורה מאת אדון כל היוצר רוח האדם בקרבו לא יפלא ממנו דבר, לחקוק חקים ומפשטים לפי ערך ומדרגת כל נפש, עד שיהיו מקובלים על לב כל אחד מהם, והם אפשרי הקיום לפי הכנת נפשו, עד”מ שאין ספק כי זרע אהרן הכהן מוכשרים הנפשות שנאצלו בהן כחות יקרות בשיעור רב מה שאין שאר זרע ישראל מוכשרים אליהן, וכן משפחות הלוי, וכפי הבדל נפשותיהן נבדלו בענין המעשים והעבודות המקבילות נגד נפשותיהן המעולות. וכן הכהן הגדול בעבור היות נפשו עוד נבדלת מכל אחיו הכהנים בכחות יקרות פנימיות הנודעות ליוצר כל ית’ , לכן מוכשר לקבל עוד מצות היתרות על שאר הכהנים, וכן הבדל כחות הנפש שבין זכרים לנקבות, הוא המסבב הבדל חיוביהן במצות, כי המצות הערכים במשקל ובמדה נאותה לפי הכנת על נפש ונפש, עד שאין מצות ממצותיה וחוק מחקותיה יוצא מגדר באפשרי משום נפש, לפי חלוף מצבי הנפשות בכחותיהן , ועל זה אמר ומתקן ומקבל. התורה במצותיה מתקנת ומסודרת, עד שהיא מתקבלת בלב כל איש ואיש לפי מצב נפשו וכח הכנתו, ואין אחד מהם יוכל לומר קיום דבר זה אצלי מסוג הנמנעות (עיון תפילה, דף נ ע”ב-נא ע”א).
Another offending passage Sperber discusses (pp. 46-47) is found in the Ve-hu Rachum tefilah where it says ושקצונו כטומאת הנדה. Sperber brings versions that did not have these words and suggests that we take it out. He then concludes (p. 50) that maybe this whole tefilah of Ve-hu Rachum should be made into a private tefilah and not obligatory, as its a late addition to the liturgy in the first place. Now it should be noted that although this sounds radical, in reality it is not. The omission of this prayer is common amongst Chassidm for far weaker reasons. Many omit it for any and all yarzheits of anyone who ever wore the mantel of “Rebbi.” Thus, Sperber appears to be in good company.
In regard to Sperber’s suggested change to add in the Imahot in the first bracha of Shemonah Esrei, although he does provide evidence that changes were made even in these berachos, I (EB) find it hard to accept these suggestions and I would have to agree with the issues Frimer raises in this regard.
One last point: while this study definitely shows that many changes were made in our liturgy, it is still not clear as to when and how and why. Exact guidelines, if there are any, need to be defined more clearly it is buried in a mass of amazing historical and bibliographical notes. Summaries and more exact conclusions should be written out more clearly, as this is such a dangerous topic as Sperber himself is well aware (see p. 129 and 124).
Here are some general notes and sources to add to Sperber’s plethora of sources. We would just like to mention that today, because of the internet, the study of Siddur has and will greatly change. Many rare and early printed siddurim and manuscripts related to Siddur are available for viewing in ones’s own home instead of being only available in far-flung libraries, available to professional scholars. Using these sources alone can revolutionize the study of the development of the Siddur.
Suggested Additions
p.9 on the Prayer for State of Israel see Joel Rappel, “The Identity of the Author of the Prayer for the State of Israel,” in Shulamit Eliash, Itamar Warhaftig, Uri Desberg, eds., Masuah Le-Yitzhak: Rabbi Yitzhak Isaac ha-Levi Herzog Memorial Volume (Jerusalem: Yad ha-Rav Herzog, 2008; Hebrew), 594-620, and his “The Convergence of Politics and Prayer: Jewish Prayers for the Government and the State of Israel,” (PhD dissertation, Boston University, 2008).
p. 23. regarding studies on Kabbalat Shabbat: to date the most comprehensive study on this topic is from Rabbi Y. Goldhaber, Kovetz Beis Aron V’Yisroel, 64: 119-138; 70: 125-146; 73: 119-13. Hopefully he will collect and update all this into a full length book in the near future.
p. 32 note 2 there is a typo it should read Shmuel Askenazi.
p. 36 see also D. Rabinowitz, “Rayna Batya and other Learned Women: A Reevaluation of Rabbi Barukh Halevi Epstein’s Sources,” Tradition 35 (2001).
p. 33-39:On the Shelo Asani Ishah controversy see E. Fram, My Dear Daughter, HUCP 2007, pp.37-41.
p. 34. On Rabbi Aaron Worms of Metz see the important article from Y. Speigel, Yerushasnu, 3, 2009, pp. 269-309; R. Dovid Tzvi Hillman, Yeshurun, 25, 2011, pp. 619-621.
p.40 and onwards; related to the שלא עשני אשה controversy see Yoel Kahn, The Three blessings Boundaries, Censorship, and Identity in Jewish Liturgy, Oxford 2010.
p. 41-42: On R Abraham Farissol see David B. Ruderman, The World of a Renaissance Jew, the life and thought of Avrhom Ben Mordechai Farissol, HUCP, 1981.
p. 52 D. Rabinowitz, “Is the Modern Placement of Bameh Madlikin A Polemic Against Hassidim?” Or Yisrael, 2007, 180-84.
p. 73 note 4 there is a typo, it should say R. Dovid Cohen.
p. 80 see D. Rabinowitz, “The Pitfalls of Changing the Liturgy: On Changes to the Nikkud of Kaddish,” Or Yisrael, 158-62, 2007.
p.100 See E. Brodt, The Avudraham and his usage of the Tur and Pirush of R Yehudah Ben Yakar (In print).
pp. 108-109: In regard to R. Emanuel Hai Ricchi see: B. Naor, Post Sabbatian Sabbatianism, pp. 53-57: Yeshurun, 24, p. 444.
p. 109: Darchei Noam is worth mentioning as this work is one of the only works that received a Haskamah from the Gra, see Eliach, Hagaon 3, p. 1257.
p. 133: It should say the brother of the Ketzot Ha-choshen, R. Yehudah author of the Terumot Ha-Kerei.
p. 157: On R. Yakov Emden’s Siddur and additions from others over the years. It is worth mentioning that a few years ago the printing house Eshkol printed a new version of the siddur including many new additions of R. Emden himself, from a manuscript of the siddur. One of the important features in this edition is they put all the material that was not R. Emden’s in different fonts so one can see exactly what was added by others over the years. Additionally, they provided a photo reproduction of the original siddur at the end of volume two.
p. 177: Sperber brings the special work of the Aderes on Tefilah. Sperber notes this books is full of textual changes, some based on manuscript but mostly on his own. To be more exact and correct, what Sperber writes about this work a very small part was printed in the Journal, Knesset Hagedolah. Many years later a few pieces of this work was printed in the journal Yeshurun. In 2002, Y. Amechi printed this work from manuscripts with many notes. In 2004 Ahavat Sholom printed this work again based on even more manuscripts. They also included other articles of his printed elsewhere related to Tefilah. The main thing worth noting is that this is a very special work related to Tefilah.
p. 179 on the well-known reason why during the week we say Magdil and on Shabbat we say Migdol, see: Shut Lev Shlomo, Siman 23; Noam Megidim, p. 13b; R. Reuven Margolios, Haggadah Shel Pesach p. 60; Y. Speigel, Yeshurun 6, 1999, pp. 759-762.
p. 189: A wealth of sources on the topic worthy of mention, regarding adding Zachrenu Lechaim during Aseret Yemei Teshuvah can be found in R. Dovid Zvi Rothstein, Sefer Torah Menukod, in Kovetz Ohel Sarah Leah, 1999, pp.632-771. See also the important article on this from U. Fuchs, Tarbitz 75 (2006), pp. 129-154.