The Satmar Rebbe and a Censored Mishnah Berurah, and R. Baruch Rabinovich of Munkács
The Satmar Rebbe and a Censored Mishnah Berurah, and R. Baruch Rabinovich of Munkács
Marc B. Shapiro
1. In my recent interview in Der Veker, available here, I said that I hope to discuss how the Satmar Rebbe was mistaken in identifying a Zionist censorship in the Mishnah Berurah.
In Ha-Maor, Elul 5716, p. 30, M. Abramson tells the following story that appears under the heading על זיוף המשנה ברורה. The Satmar Rebbe was away from home and asked his assistant, R. Joseph Ashkenazi (who is the source of the story), to bring him a book. Ashkenazi brought the first book that came to his hand. It was a Mishnah Berurah printed in Israel. After investigating the history of the printing of the Mishnah Berurah at the National Library of Israel, I concluded that the copy the Satmar Rebbe was given was published by Pardes in 1955 (one year before the event described). Here is the title page.
Later the Rebbe returned the book to Ashkenazi and said that as far as he remembers, the language in section 156 of this copy of the Mishnah Berurah differs from what appears in other editions. Ashkenazi checked an older edition of the Mishnah Berurah and discovered that the Israeli edition had altered the original text.
The original Mishnah Berurah 156:4 reads:
מצוה על כל אדם לאהוב את כ”א מישראל כגופו שנא’ ואהבת לרעך כמוך וכו’ ודוקא רעך בתורה ומצוות אבל אדם רשע שראה אותו שעבר עבירה המפורסמת בישראל ולא קיבל תוכחה מצוה לשנאתו.
I have underlined the words that Abramson calls attention to. While the original text reads: לאהוב את כ”א מישראל, the Pardes edition has לאהוב את עמיתו. Abramson notes, “In this they wanted to show their support for democracy, that one needs to love not just the Jews but also the Arabs.” The Pardes edition also omits the second series of words that I have underlined, which express sentiments that are not very tolerant of the irreligious,[1] as well as some other words.
Here is the uncensored page in the Mishnah Berurah.
Here is the censored page in the Pardes edition.
Upon looking again at the Abramson article, I see that I misremembered, as it does not actually say that the Satmar Rebbe attributed this censorship to the Zionist publisher. He simply noticed the problem in the Israeli edition and said that this Mishnah Berurah is not like the others he has seen. It is Abramson who explicitly blames the Zionists (although perhaps the Rebbe agreed with Abramson). Abramson sarcastically writes that apparently they also provide copies of the Mishnah Berurah “to the children of Mapai and Mapam,” and this explains why they altered and censored the text.
Yet the truth is that what we have just seen has nothing to do with the Israeli publisher, Pardes. I found the same censorship in a Mishnah Berurah that appeared in Warsaw in 1895, and interestingly, it is this very edition that is found on hebrewbooks.org here. In other words, the changes we have seen were inserted under Czarist rule, and the Israeli publisher simply reprinted a copy of the Mishnah Berurah without realizing that it was a censored version.[2]
I know of another example where the altering of a text was blamed on the Zionists, and this time the one doing the blaming was a Mizrachi rabbi, R. Avigdor Cyperstein. In the Mossad ha-Rav Kook Archive of Religious Zionism there is a letter from R. Cyperstein to Dr. Yitzhak Rafael dated May 14, 1967. The relevant section reads as follows:
ידידי היקר – אני רוצה לזכות אותך בזכות הרבים, ובטח לא תחמיץ את המצווה הזו: כעת בכל העולם נפוצים הסידורים תוצרת הארץ הוצאת “בית רפאל”, ת”א – “סדור התפלה השלם” – והנה מצאתי בסידור זה דבר נורא: במעמדות של יום הששי מובא הגמ’ מנחות מד. המעשה באדם אחד שהי’ זהיר במצוות ציצית וכו’ ושם כתוב “באה לבית מדרשו של ר’ חייא, אמרה לו רבי צוה עלי ויעשוני גיורת וכו’, – והמולי”ם הללו העיזו לשלוח יד בגירסת הגמ’, ובמקום ויעשוני גיורת – השליכו את הגיורת החוצה, והכניסו במקומה “עברית” . . . והמרחק-התהום בין גיורת לעברית – אין צורך לבאר, וגם כוונתם הטרופה, בוקעה מזה, ומעלה סרחון, בכי’ לדורות. דומני שאין מי שהוא שהעיז לכבוש את המלכה בבית וכל ישראל – מתפללים מסידור זה, וע”כ מצווה לפרסם זה ברבים, ולתקן בהוצאות החדשות.
It is hard to know whether what R. Cyperstein refers to was indeed a Zionist inspired alteration. I say this because the version ויעשוני עברית is also attested to in a few sources that pre-date Zionism. I think it is more likely that the publisher just assumed that this is a more authentic reading.
Since I have been discussing the Satmar Rebbe, here is as good a place as any to note that contrary to popular belief, the name Satmar does not come from St. Mary. The original meaning seems to be a personal name, and in popular etymology the word came to mean “great village.”[3] Yet even in the Satmar community some believe that the word comes from St. Mary, and because of this they pronounce it as “Sakmar”. In pre-war Hungary this pronunciation was common among many Orthodox Jews, not only Satmar hasidim.[4] For one example of this, here is Samuel Noah Gottlieb’s entry on Satmar in his rabbinic encyclopedia, Ohalei Shem (Pinsk, 1912), p. 425. As you can see, while “Szatmar” appears in the vernacular, in the Hebrew the city is spelled “Sakmar”. There are many more such examples.
This avoidance of saying the word “Satmar” is similar to the way Jews referred in Hebrew and Yiddish to the Austrian town Deutschkreutz. Unlike the case with Satmar, when it came to Deutschkreutz the universal Jewish name was Tzeilem (Kreutz=cross=tzelem). On the other hand, there was a significant Jewish community in the Lithuanian city of Mariampole, whose name comes from Mary. Yet I am not aware of anyone who avoided saying the name of this city. Shimon Steinmetz emailed me as follows:
We might also note other cities with Christian-y names, like Kristianpol. Kristianpoler was a name used even by rabbis, cf. Rabbi Yechiel Kristianpoler, and his son Rabbi Meir. In addition, the Lithuanian town Kalvarija, which has a very Christian association, Jews used it without any issue. On the other hand, the Jews called St Petersburg, “Petersburg,” without the “St.”
One other point about Satmar: In a lecture I mentioned that one of the old-time American rabbis met with the Satmar Rebbe and concluded that when it came to the State of Israel, you simply could not speak to him about it. He was like a shoteh le-davar ehad when it came to this in that no matter how much you tried to convince him otherwise, he refused to listen to reason. Someone asked me which rabbi said this. It was R. Ephraim Jolles of Philadelphia (as I heard from a family member). I don’t think his formulation is too harsh, as anyone who has read the Satmar Rebbe’s writings can attest. It does not bother me if he or anyone else wants to be an anti-Zionist. However, the anti-Zionist rhetoric found in the Satmar Rebbe’s writings, and those of his successors, is often more extreme than what we find among the pro-Palestinian groups. Take a look at this passage from Va-Yoel Moshe, p. 11.
אם נקח כל פירצות הדור והעבירות המרובות הנעשות בכל העולם וישימו אותם בכף מאזנים אחת, ומדינה הציונית בכף מאזנים השני’, [המדינה הציונית] תכריע את הכל, שהוא השורש פורה ראש ולענה של אבי אבות הטומאה שבכל אבות הנזיקין שבכל העולם כולו, והן המה המטמאים את כל העולם כולו.
By what logic can one claim that such an outrageous passage would be anti-Semitic if said by Mahmoud Abbas, Linda Sarsour, Tamika Mallory, or Max Blumenthal, but not so if the very same thing is said in Satmar?
If anyone wants to see the results of this rhetoric, here are two videos with kids from Satmar. In this one the children are being taught that the Zionists started World War II and to hope for the destruction of the State of Israel.
In this video children were told that Netanyahu was in the car and they were to throw eggs at it.
It is very painful to see how children are being indoctrinated with such hatred. Again I ask, if such a video surfaced from a leftist camp, there would be no hesitation in labeling it anti-Semitic. So why are people hesitant to conclude that Satmar is also involved in spreading anti-Semitism?
The general assumption is that the Satmar Rebbe hated Zionism and the State of Israel so much, that he was inclined to believe even the most far-out anti-Semitic canards against the State. I have always found this difficult to believe. Say what you will about the Rebbe, there is no denying that he was very intelligent. Thus, I have a hard time accepting that he could have really believed in Zionist control of the media and other anti-Semitic tropes found in his polemical writings. In other words, I think it is more likely that he did not believe in any of these things but said them anyway in order to convince his followers not to give up the fight against Zionism, a fight that had been abandoned by so many former anti-Zionists after the Holocaust and the creation of the State of Israel in 1948. In such a battle it was necessary to turn Israel not only into something bad, but actually the worst sin imaginable.
R. Nahum Abraham, a Satmar hasid and prolific author, has recently written that the Satmar Rebbe would deny things that he knew were true. He regarded his denials as “necessary lies,” in order to prevent people from being led in the wrong direction.[5] If the Rebbe thought that it was permissible to deny the truth of certain hasidic stories in order to prevent his followers from being influenced by them, isn’t it possible that he would exaggerate the evils of the State of Israel in order to best indoctrinate his followers with an anti-Zionist perspective?
This approach also would explain a big problem that no one has been able to adequately account for. How was the Satmar Rebbe able to have friendly and respectful relationships with people who, based on what he writes, he should have regarded as completely out of the fold due to their involvement with the State of Israel? This includes even men like R. Aharon Kotler who supported voting in the Israeli elections, which the Satmar Rebbe claimed is “the most severe prohibition in the entire Torah.”[6] Yet we know that the Satmar Rebbe respected R. Aharon and others who had a very different perspective.[7] Can’t this be seen as evidence that there is a good deal of ideologically-driven exaggeration in the Satmar Rebbe’s writings, and that not everything he says really reflects his actual views? After all, if he really thought that voting in the elections was the most severe prohibition in the Torah and the State of Israel was completely destroying Judaism, would he still be able to be on good terms with rabbis who instructed their followers to vote and be part of the State?
2. Since I mentioned Munkács in this post, let me return to another recent post here where I discussed R. Baruch Rabinovich, the son-in-law of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira and his successor as Munkácser Rebbe. When I wrote the post I was unaware of the fact that R. Baruch’s grandson, R. Yosef Rabinovich, recently published Ner Baruch, which is a collection of Torah writings and letters from R. Baruch. He includes in the volume the haskamot written by R. Baruch. I examined new printings of the volumes with haskamot that I was unaware of and found that R. Baruch’s haskamah to the first edition of R. Yitzhak Adler, Seder Shanah ha-Aharonah (Munkács, 1937) was deleted in subsequent printings. The same thing happened with R. Baruch’s haskamah to R. Judah Zvi Lustig’s Yedei Sofer (Debrecen, 1938). Here is how the page with the haskamot looks in the original printing.
Here is how the page with the haskamot looks in the reprint, where R. Baruch’s haskamah has been deleted.
Another point about R. Baruch: In 1946 he tried to become chief rabbi of Tel Aviv but lost out to R. Isser Yehudah Unterman. This is discussed in Samuel Heilman’s Who Will Lead Us? From a letter that appears in the archive of R. Isaac Herzog, and was sent to an unknown rabbi, we see that in 1950 R. Baruch was also interested in becoming av beit din in Tel Aviv.
This information is, to the best of my knowledge, not recorded anywhere else. In this letter, which I found here (a site that contains more interesting information and pictures about R. Baruch) we that R. Herzog, R. Unterman, and R. Yaakov Moshe Toledano were strongly opposed to R. Baruch receiving this appointment. Although the reason for this opposition is not mentioned, it is perhaps because they felt it was an abomination that someone from the anti-Zionist Munkács dynasty should have such a position in the State of Israel. However, as I have mentioned in my previous post, it is doubtful that R. Baruch ever really shared his father-in-law’s strong anti-Zionism. It is possible that the anti-Zionist statements he made in the pre-war years might not have reflected his actual beliefs but were due to his position as rebbe. That is, as the successor of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira he felt that he had to make such statements. It is also the case that had he not continued his father-in-law’s anti-Zionist stance he would not have retained much of a following in Munkács.
When R. Baruch wanted to become chief rabbi of Tel Aviv, a letter in opposition to this was published by Chaim Kugel, head of the Holon Municipal Council:
Is it conceivable that this man . . . who hounded Zionism and Zionists . . . who loyally continued the line of the Munkács court, which cursed and banned any Jew who pronounced the word Zion on his lips . . . is it conceivable that this man will appear as a representative and moral leader in the first Hebrew city, and be a guide to its residents and Zionists?[8]
In those days it was obvious that positions of chief rabbis of important cities would go to Zionist rabbis. Here, for example, is a letter to R. Unterman from David Zvi Pinkas, an important Mizrachi figure and signatory of Israel’s Declaration of Independence.[9] Note how Pinkas tells R. Unterman that the Mizrachi expects him to follow the Mizrachi approach in everything he does. If R. Unterman could not commit to this, then Pinkas would have found another rabbi who could.
In my earlier post I neglected to mention R. Baruch’s Hashav Nevonim that appeared in 2016. This book is full of interesting material, and the more I read from R. Baruch, the more impressed I am. He really was a fascinating figure in so many ways.
There is a good deal I can say about Hashav Nevonim, but let me just call attention to the first essay that appears in the book, focused on conversion. Conversion is a matter often in the news. I have said on numerous occasions that what currently passes as the standard approach to conversion was not the case at all in previous years. To begin with, among the rabbis there were different understandings of what kabbalat ha-mitzvot entailed, and the currently accepted view that a prospective convert must commit to become fully halakhically observant, as practiced today in Orthodox communities, was not the view of many, and perhaps not even the view of most. The notion that a conversion could be annulled after the fact was hardly ever put into practice, although even this is found on occasion and R. Baruch cites some authorities who speak about this very point. Thus, it is not, as has often been alleged, a modern haredi idea with no historical basis although, as mentioned, it was very rare.
After going through the various views on conversion, R. Baruch concludes as follows (p. 47).
מנהג העולם נראה כמקבל דיעה זו, וכל מי שנתגייר, בין ששומר מצוות, ובין שחוזר ועובר עבירות, דינו כישראל, כל שקיבל עצמו עול מצות עם גירותו.
I have underlined the words which are not currently accepted by many (most?) conversion courts and which are at the heart of the controversy regarding voiding conversions. Today, the assumption of many conversion courts is that if someone who converts is later seen violating halakhah in a serious way, we can assume that this person never really accepted the mitzvot at the conversion, and the conversion is therefore not valid. It is this argument which was hardly ever put into practice in previous years and now appears to be quite common, so much so that converts claim to feel that their conversions are always “on condition,” namely, that even many years after converting there is the possibility that the conversion will be declared invalid because of a lack of proper kabbalat ha-mitzvot.
On pp. 27-28, R. Baruch calls attention to the novel view of R. Isaac Benjamin Wolf, author of Nahalat Binyamin (Amsterdam, 1682), a book reprinted a number of times and which carries the haskamah by R. Jacob Sasportas. Here is the title page.
R. Isaac is described as rabbi of מדינת מרק. This refers to the German county of Mark, about which see here.
Here is page 89a in Nahalat Binyanim
According to R. Isaac, in places such as Spain and Portugal, where one could not practice Judaism openly, if a Jewish man marries a non-Jewish woman, and the woman chooses to practice Judaism, both she and her children are regarded as Jewish. How can she be Jewish when she never immersed in the mikveh and there was no beit din to preside over the conversion? R. Isaac says that there is no obligation to immerse in the mikveh when there is danger (as there would be in a place with the Inquisition looking to find Crypto-Jews). Although he does not elaborate, it is obvious that according to R. Isaac kabbalat ha-mitzvot in front of a beit din is not an absolute requirement. In other words, he holds that in a she’at ha-dehak one can convert on one’s own, without a beit din.
This is a fascinating position that is at odds with accepted halakhah, so much so that most people won’t even believe that such a position is possible. R. Baruch is not able to cite anyone who agrees with it. The position of Nahalat Binyamim is discussed by R. Eliezer Waldenberg, who not surprisingly completely rejects it.[10] However, he does cite a medieval view that has some similarity to Nahalat Binyamim:
היה מקום להביא סמוכין לזה משיטת האביאסף שהובא במרדכי ביבמות סו”פ החולץ שמפרש דברי הגמ’ שם שאומרת מי לא טבלה לנדותה שמשמע דבדיעבד הוי גר גמור גם בטבילה בלי ג’.
Unlike R. Waldenberg, R. Hayyim Amsalem, Zera Yisrael, p. 290, does not reject Nahalat Binyamin out of hand. Instead he writes:
חזו דברי גאון קדמון זה לאיצטרופי, ולדון להקל בבני האנוסים ובבני יהודים לענין גיורם וחזרתם לדת, שכל שימולו ויטבלו לשם יהדות בהודעת מקצת מצוות כהלכה, סגי להו אף לכתחילה, אע”פ שאנחנו לא יודעים מה שהיה אח”כ לענין קיום המצוות, וזה אתי אפי’ למ”ד קבלת מצוות מעכבת.
See also Jacob Sofer, Sipurei Yaakov (Lvov, 1913), vol. 2, pp. 7ff. (no. 42), for a lengthy story starring the Maharal. The tale is obviously fictional, but of importance for our purposes is that the story, reported in a hasidic text, tells of a woman who ran away from her non-Jewish husband and married a Jewish man, had children, and was a righteous woman. However, this woman never converted with a beit din, and yet on p. 8a it specifically states that she and her children are to be regarded as Jewish. R. Nahum Abraham points to this as an example of an anti-halakhic hasidic story that cannot be true.[11]
Finally, Nahmanides in his commentary to Yevamot 45b has an interesting view and I do not know if it is accepted.
ואיפשר לומר דגבי קבלת מצוות צריך שלשה אפילו בדיעבד דמשפט כתיב ביה מה התם שנים שדנו אין דיניהן דין אף כאן אינו גר אפילו בדיעבד, אבל מי שהודיעוהו מקצת ענשן של מצות ומתן שכרן של מצות וקיבל עליו בב”ד לטבול ולמול, אם הלך ומל וטבל שלא בפני ב”ד הרי זה כשר ולא פסלינן לזרעיה
3. There are many new books to speak about. One of them is Chaim I. Waxman, Social Change and Halakhic Evolution in American Orthodoxy. The content of the book can be seen from the title. I will be reviewing this book in an academic journal, so I do not need to speak about it here. I would, however, like to call attention to one point that will not be mentioned in my review. Chapter 5 is titled “Tensions Within Modern Orthodoxy.” Not surprisingly, it deals with women rabbis. On pp. 109-110, Waxman refers to R. Jeremy Wieder’s view on the matter (the name is misspelled “Weider”). He quotes from an article in the Yeshiva University Commentator, which summarizes R. Wieder’s position as follows: “[I]n light of the success of the yoetzet halacha program in increasing overall observance in the communities that he has observed, it may be very beneficial to have women rabbis.”
I was quite surprised to see such a liberal position expressed by a YU Rosh Yeshiva, and I checked the source which appears here. R. Wieder is indeed quoted saying, among other things, that there is no binding tradition on the matter of women rabbis since the issue of women in leadership positions is a new question, thus preventing the development of a “stream of Jewish tradition.” However, when I read the article I did not find anything about how it may be “beneficial to have women rabbis.” I then noticed the following at the beginning of the article. “Editor’s Note: This article has been edited to more precisely convey the opinions represented.” In this case, I think the meaning of “more precisely convey” is that what originally appeared was altered (presumably at R. Wieder’s request) in order to prevent controversy. Yet even with the removal of R. Wieder’s view that it may be “beneficial to have women rabbis,” the current text of the article does not alter the substance of R. Wieder’s opinion. Thus, we find the following:
Lastly, Rabbi Wieder talked about the issue from a philosophical standpoint. He argued that expanding the pool of rabbinic students could lead to an increase in qualified rabbinic candidates. Rabbi Wieder added that he has observed the yoetzet halacha program increase overall halachic observance in the communities it serves and he expressed his optimism that women rabbis could generate similar improvement.
These words are certainly in opposition to the OU’s recent statement on women and religious leadership which is available here.
The question I have been asked a few times is if in the current political climate it is possible for a rabbi at a mainstream Modern Orthodox synagogue, or a teacher at a mainstream Modern Orthodox school, to feel free to express support for the ordination of women. Would such a rabbi or teacher risk censure from his colleagues or even the possibility of losing his job? The answer to these questions will determine if we are dealing with a real wedge issue (as I think we are).
Another new book is R. Bezalel Naor’s Shod Melakhim. R. Naor is well known as an outstanding interpreter of R. Kook. His great knowledge of the entire scope of Jewish thought (not just R. Kook) is apparent to anyone who examines his writings. Yet I do not know how many are aware of R. Naor’s achievements when it comes to rabbinic literature. This latest book is a collection of R. Naor’s studies on various halakhot in the Mishneh Torah. As part of R. Naor’s explication of these halakhot, he offers the reader wide-ranging enlightening discussions using numerous sources, both traditional and academic. For those who can appreciate the synthesis of the traditional and the academic approaches to the study of Maimonides, R. Naor’s new book is a real treat.
In the past I have spoken about the late R. Mordechai Spielman’s great work on the Zohar, Tiferet Zvi. The seventh volume of Tiferet Zvi has recently appeared, and can even be purchased on Amazon. Anyone who is interested in how the Zohar has been interpreted, and the impact of the Zohar on later rabbinic literature, will benefit greatly from of R. Spielman’s writings.
A new book (over 600 pages) by Benjamin Brown has appeared. It focuses on the Karlin hasidic dynasty. When I received the book in the mail, the first thought that came to my head is that Brown is a phenomenon. There is no other way to put it. It is not just the quantity of his literary output that is astounding, but also the quality, as everything he writes is worth reading.
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[1] Regarding the Hafetz Hayyim’s view of the non-religious, which is very much at odds with current approaches in the Lithuanian yeshiva world (at least in America), see Benjamin Brown, “Ha-‘Ba’al Bayit’: R. Yisrael Meir ha-Kohen, he-‘Hafetz Hayyim,’” in Brown and Nissim Leon, eds., Ha-Gedolim (Jerusalem, 2017), pp. 127ff. Brown also shows that in a few letters the Hafetz Hayyim adopts a more moderate perspective.
[2] In future posts I hope to say a good deal more about the Satmar Rebbe’s writings. For now, let me just respond to someone who emailed me and compared R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira, the Munkácser Rebbe, to the Satmar Rebbe. It is true that they are similar in terms of their strong opposition to Zionism, and the Satmar Rebbe can be seen as the Munkácser Rebbe’s successor in this matter. However, in terms of their scholarly approach, they are quite different, as the Satmar Rebbe did not have the Munkácser’s critical sense. In fact, I was quite surprised to learn that the Satmar Rebbe accepted as authentic the forged anti-Zionist letters published by Chaim Bloch in his three volume Dovev Siftei Yeshenim. See R. Dov Schwartz, Meshiv Devarim (New York, 2011), pp. 140-141.
[4] Shimon Steinmetz called my attention to סאקמאר appearing as the name of the city as early as 1859 in R. Hayyim Meir Ze’ev ha-Kohen, Sha’arei Hayyim (Pressburg 1859), in the list of subscribers at the beginning of the book. (You can find this on Google books, but the version of the book on hebrewbooks.org is missing these pages, as well as other pages.) This shows that referring to the city as “Sakmar” was already common. Steinmetz also called my attention to the same thing in the list of subscribers found at the end of R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, Kise Rahamim (Ungvar, 1870). In this case, you can see the subscribers in the copy on hebrewbooks.org, but it has been removed from the copy on Otzar ha-Chochmah. If this was removed intentionally, on the assumption that it is not really part of the sefer, it is a big problem, as the subscriber information can be of great historical importance. It is vital that both hebrewbooks.org and Otzar ha-Chochmah scan books in their entirety, without making any changes whatsoever.
R. Yoel Teitelbaum used the term Satmar all the time, and it was on his stationery, but I did find a number of places where he wrote Sakmar, spelled סאקמער and סאקמיר. See e.g., his approbations to R. Abraham Hayyim Reinman, Va-Yetze Perah (Satmar, 1940), R. Asher Steinmetz, Mikveh Yisrael ha-Shem (Jerusalem, 1961), and his letter in Divrei Yoel: Mikhtavim (Brooklyn, 1981), vol. 2, p. 81. See also Esther Farbstein, Be-Seter ha-Madregah (Jerusalem, 2013), p. 862, for a 1949 letter from Budapest to R. Yoel in which the word Sakmar is used. Shimon Steinmetz wrote to me as follows:
I think you can see by his [R. Yoel’s] correct spelling in Latin letters that he didn’t take it seriously, and perhaps not too many Jews did. After all, R. Joel Teitelbaum himself, who I think most people would consider fairly zealous, did not insist or use it very much. . . . This tells me that when people did call it Sakmar, most of them were probably just calling it that because it was already what Jews called it. Perhaps it was even a sly joke to begin with.
[5] Peti Ya’amin le-Khol Davar (n.p., 2017), p. 31
[6] Divrei Yoel, Mikhtavim, no. 90.
[7] In a future post I will publish a letter I received from Moshe Beck dealing with this point. Beck is the chief rabbi of the U.S. Neturei Karta.
[8] Translation in Heilman, Who Will Lead Us?, p. 45.
[9] The letter is found in the Israel State Archives, David Zvi Pinkas collection, 3070/15-פ.
[10] Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 17, no. 42:11.
[11] Heikhal ha-Besht 18 (Nisan 5767), p. 18. For an Arabic version of this story, see Bayit Neeman 96 (26 Tevet 5776), pp. 4-5.
Gems from Rav Herzog’s Archive (Part 2): Sanhedrin, Dateline, the Rav on Kahane, and More
Gems from Rav Herzog’s Archive (Part 2):
Sanhedrin, Dateline, the Rav on Kahane, and More
By Yaacov Sasson
EDIT Please see this post for a crucial correction – it is the conclusion of the Rav’s family that the letter in the Herzog Archive about Kahane is a forgery.
Another important file in Rav Herzog’s archive is his file on the renewal of Semicha and the Sanhedrin.[1] Among other letters, the file contains an unpublished letter from Rav Herzog to R’ Yehuda Leib Maimon regarding the issue. R’ Maimon was a well-known Mizrachi leader, the first Minister of Religion of the State of Israel, and the most vocal advocate of renewing the Sanhedrin. To that end, he wrote a series of articles on the topic in Ha-Tzofeh and Sinai, which he collected into a book in 1950, entitled Chidush Ha-Sanhedrin BeMedinateinu Hamechudeshet. Renewal of Semicha and Sanhedrin was of course not without opponents. Rav Herzog instructs R’ Maimon to proceed slowly and with caution, as there are a number of unresolved issues regarding renewal of Semicha which require great care and deliberation.
There were two main halachic objections to the renewal of Semicha. The first (not mentioned here by Rav Herzog) is based on the language of the Rambam in Sanhedrin 4:11, the very same halacha in which he suggests the possibility of the renewal of Semicha. The Rambam writes there:
נראין לי הדברים שאם הסכימו כל החכמים שבארץ ישראל למנות דיינין ולסמוך אותן הרי אלו סמוכין ויש להן לדון דיני קנסות ויש להן לסמוך לאחרים אם כן למה היו החכמים מצטערין על הסמיכה כדי שלא ייבטלו דיני קנסות מישראל לפי שישראל מפוזרין ואי אפשר שיסכימו כולן ואם היה שם סמוך מפי סמוך אינו צריך דעת כולן אלא דן דיני קנסות לכל שהרי נסמך מפי בית דין והדבר צריך הכרע.
The intention of the Rambam in his concluding words, Ve-hadavar tzarich hechrea, has been the subject of dispute for hundreds of years, going back to the dispute of the Mahari Beirav and the Ralbach, with some authorities believing that the Rambam was mesupak whether Semicha could in fact be renewed. A novel approach to the issue was suggested by Dr. Bernard Revel in an article in Chorev, Volume 5 (1939). Dr. Revel suggested the possibility that the final three words, Ve-hadavar tzarich hechrea, are not be the words of the Rambam himself, but were added later by another person who disagreed with the Rambam’s innovation.[2] Dr. Revel cited statements of other rishonim which he believed supported his theory. R’ Maimon addressed this issue in the introduction to his book, in the footnote, writing that the three words, Ve-hadavar tzarich hechrea, do not appear in “kama kitvei yad” (several manuscripts), thus supporting Dr. Revel’s hypothesis.
However, there is no evidence that any such manuscripts actually exist. The Frankel edition of the Rambam does not cite any alternate nusach that excludes these three words. Additionally, Professor Eliav Schochetman[3] wrote nearly 30 years ago that he found no evidence of any such manuscript in the numerous manuscripts that he consulted from across the world.
There are two potential explanations to what happened here.One potential explanation is that R’ Maimon simply lied about the existence of these kitvei yad in order to advance his agenda of renewing the Sanhedrin. Alternatively, Rabbi Eliyahu Krakowski has suggested a limud zchut – perhaps R’ Maimon forgot what Dr. Revel had written and mistakenly believed that Dr. Revel had uncovered manuscripts supporting his thesis[4], or he never saw it himself and was misinformed as to what Dr. Revel wrote, in which case R’ Maimon would be guilty of carelessness rather than dishonesty.
The second major halachic objection to the renewal of Semicha is the issue of the Samuch’s qualifications. The Rambam in Sanhedrin 4:8 writes that a Samuch must be rauy lehorot be-chol hatorah kula, capable of ruling on the entire Torah. Rav Herzog mentions in this letter to R’ Maimon that the Ralbach objected to renewal of Semicha on the grounds that no one is rauy lehorot be-chol hatorah kula. (This was also the position of the Radvaz, in his commentary on Sanhedrin 4:11.) Rav Herzog adds that if he said so in his generation, anan aniyey de-aniyey mah na’ane abatrei? Rav Herzog then makes a somewhat novel suggestion, one with halachic ramifications for the issue of renewal of Semicha. Rav Herzog suggests that rauy lehorot be-chol hatorah kula does not mean that the Samuch must literally know by heart all the relevant halachic sources. A similar approach was also suggested by the Rav[5] and the Steipler.[6] In the language of the Rav, the Samuch need not possess “universal knowledge”, rather a “universal orientation.” While this approach would certainly remove this barrier to renewal of Semicha, Rav Herzog concludes, however, that the matter requires extensive clarification and discussion, and as long as this point has not been clarified, there can be no possibility of renewing the Sanhedrin.
There are a number of talmidei chachamim in the last century who have deemed others to be rauy lehorot be-chol hatorah kula, in contrast to the position of the Ralbach and the Radvaz. For example, in his 1935 recommendation letter for the Rav regarding the Chief Rabbinate in Tel Aviv, publicized by Dr. Manfred Lehmann[7], Rav Moshe Soloveichik wrote that the Rav is rauy lehorot veladun be-chol dinei hatorah like the mufla on the Sanhedrin. In Rav Moshe Mordechai, the biography of Rav Moshe Mordechai Shulsinger (page 275), it is related that the Chazon Ish listed to his student Rav Shlomo Cohen (Rav Shulsinger’s father-in-law) the names of 32 Rabbis whom he believed to be rauy lehorot be-chol hatorah kula and worthy of sitting in the Sanhedrin, among them the Chafetz Chaim and Rav Meir Simcha. It would appear that Rav Moshe Soloveichik and the Chazon Ish also assumed the more lenient definition of rauy lehorot be-chol hatorah kula, in line with the position of Rav Herzog, the Rav and the Steipler.
VI Halachic Dateline
The archive contains an entire file dedicated to the question of the Halachic Dateline.[8] Rav Herzog was of course involved in the Dateline controversy in 1941. At that time, some members of the Mir Yeshiva, among other Jews, were located in Japan for Yom Kippur and they sent a telegram to Rabbis Mishkovsky, Alter, Herzog, Soloveichik, Finkel and Meltzer asking for guidance. Rav Herzog convened a meeting of a number of Rabbis to decide how to proceed, and sent a telegram back to Japan with their instructions. The file contains copies of the telegrams, much of Rav Herzog’s correspondence on the issue, as well as a kuntres on the topic prepared by Rav Tukachinsky that was distributed in advance of the meeting. Most of the significant material in this file has already been published in Kovetz Chitzei Giborim – Pleitat Sofrim Volume 8, in an extensive article by Rav Avraham Yissachar Konig, which was previously reviewed on the Seforim Blog by Dr. Marc Shapiro.[9]
Rav Konig’s most significant contribution is showing that Rav Herzog’s letter as published in Rav Menachem Kasher’s Kav Ha-taarich Ha-yisraeli has been altered from Rav Herzog’s actual letter. Here is Rav Herzog’s letter to Rav Kasher as it appears in the archive:
And this is the letter as printed at the beginning of Rav Kasher’s Kav Ha-taarich Ha-yisraeli:
There are three sentences that have been omitted from Rav Herzog’s letter as presented at the beginning of Rav Kasher’s volume. (I would add the following point that Rav Konig failed to mention – Rav Kasher wrote explicitly on page 248 that he presented the letters at the beginning of the volume in full.) The following sentences have been omitted from Rav Herzog’s letter:
הנני להודיע עכשיו שבדיעה זו אני ממשיך ומחזיק היום. אני תפלה שיזכני הקב”ה לעיין בעצם שאלת קו התאריך ולבדוק את כל הדיעות ולהגיע לידי דיעה עצמית. אולם לעת עתה אינני נוקט שום עמדה בהן.
This omission creates the impression that Rav Herzog had a definitive position on the question of the Dateline. However, this is obviously not the case; Rav Herzog never came to any conclusion on the issue of the Dateline, as is clear from the omitted sentences, as well as from a number of other letters in the file. In fact, Rav Konig has shown that in Rav Kasher’s response to this letter, he actually complained to Rav Herzog about these specific sentences for this reason. From Rav Herzog’s original letters, it appears that his position on the question of Japan was one of hanhaga bemakom safek (i.e. instruction on how to act in absence of a clear conclusion on the location of the Dateline) not a definitive hachraa. (Rav Konig elaborates on Rav Herzog’s position at length.) The first sentence above, that Rav Herzog stands by the position of the Rabbinic meeting, in conjunction with Rav Herzog’s statement that he has no definitive opinion on the matter of the Dateline, also implies that the position of the Rabbinic meeting convened by Rav Herzog was also one of hanhaga bemakom safek. (This point is also clear from Rav Herzog’s letter to Dr. Yishurun, also in the file, that the Dateline matter remained unresolved, and the meeting of Rabbis came to no definitive conclusion on the location of the Dateline. They issued their instructions to Japan based on the majority of opinions regarding location of the Dateline, with no consensus on the issue itself.) The altered version of Rav Herzog’s letter creates the false impression that Rav Herzog had a definitive opinion on the Dateline question.
However, I must take issue with one point made by Rav Konig. In his footnote 54, he criticizes Rav Herzog for his language in the telegram sent to Japan. Rav Konig writes that the language of the telegram is misleading, and creates the false impression that the telegram represents the position of the six rabbis (Rabbis Mishkovsky, Alter, Herzog, Soloveichik, Finkel and Meltzer) to whom the telegram from Japan was addressed. This is Rav Konig’s critique, in footnote 54:
Unfortunately, Rav Konig has been misled by an inaccurate translation of Rav Herzog’s telegram. Rav Herzog’s original telegram was written in English, and Rav Konig tells us (footnote 55) that he has relied on the translation to Hebrew as it appears in the Encyclopeida Talmudit, in the addendum to the entry on “Yom”, (coincidentally also in footnote 55.) That translation is taken from Rav Kasher’s Kav Ha-taarich Ha-yisraeli on page 246. This is the telegram sent by Rav Herzog, as it appears in the archive:
An accurate translation to Hebrew would be as follows:
בתשובה למברק שלכם מיום 12.9, אספת רבנים בנשיאותי החליטה שתצומו ליום כיפורביום רביעי לפי חשבון הנהוג ביפן וכו’
This is the mistranslation in Rav Kasher’s Kav Ha-taarich Ha-yisraeli:
Translated accurately, Rav Herzog’s telegram does not imply that the six Rabbis to whom the question was addressed are providing the answer. The main difference is a subtle, but significant one. Rav Herzog wrote “meeting rabbis my presidency”, which Rav Kasher mistranslated to Asifat Ha-rabbanim, “meeting of the rabbis”, and he neglected to translate “my presidency” at all. As noted by Rav Konig, Asifat Ha-rabbanim (with the hey ha-yedia) implies the known Rabbis, i.e. the Rabbis to whom the question was addressed. Correctly translated, however, Asifat Rabbanim be-nesiuti, “a meeting of Rabbis under my presidency” (without the hey ha-yedia) does not imply that Rabbis Mishkovsky, Alter, Soloveichik, Finkel and Meltzer were involved in the decision. Rav Konig was unfortunately misled by Rav Kasher’s mistranslation, which was also repeated by Encyclopeida Talmudit. The attack on Rav Herzog’s integrity is entirely unwarranted.
There appears to be a second very subtle error in Rav Kasher’s translation. Rav Kasher’s translation states flatly that the Taanit of Yom Kippur is on Wednesday, implying a definitive hachraa. Rav Herzog’s telegram actually says that the decision was that they should fast on Wednesday for Yom Kippur, language which is consistent with a hanhaga bemakom safek. This would also fit with Rav Herzog’s personal addendum, that the Jews in Japan ought to keep Thursday as a fast day as well while eating leshiurim. Given Rav Kasher’s apparently less-than-honest presentation of Rav Herzog’s letter, as noted above, one might surmise that this “error” was also a willfull misrepresentation of the contents of the telegram, intended to advance Rav Kasher’s preferred narrative of a definitive hachraa, in accordance with his own position.
VII Yibum B’zman Hazeh
In addition to the documents related to Rav Herzog’s tenure as Chief Rabbi of Israel, there are also a number of files from his tenure as Chief Rabbi of Ireland. Among his correspondence from his time is Ireland is a fascinating teshuva, written by Rav Kasher in 1936, regarding the issue of Yibum B’zman Hazeh.[10] The background to the question: an Ashkenazi Yavam and Yevama living in Israel want to marry via Yibum, rather than doing Chalitza. Must the beit din protest, or can the beit din allow the Yibum? This teshuva was printed by Rav Kasher in the inaugural volume of Talpiot[11] (1944), and also appears in his Divrei Menachem Volume 1, Teshuva 31. Interestingly, Rav Kasher’s conclusion in the original teshuva differs significantly from the conclusion in the teshuva that he eventually published in Talpiot and Divrei Menachem.
Here is the conclusion of the teshuva as it appears in Rav Herzog’s archive, at the end of page 11 continuing to page 12:
Here is the conclusion of the teshuva as it appears in Divrei Menachem:
Originally, Rav Kasher concluded that the beit din should try to convince the couple to do chalitza, but if beit din is unsuccessful, and if the couple is religious, then beit din should teach them to have kavana l’shem mitzvah and need not protest the yibum. The concluding sentences were removed from Rav Kasher’s published teshuva, and the ending simply states that beit din try to convince them to do chalitza. (The teshuva as published is actually quite awkward, as it is clearly building towards the conclusion that they may do yibum, yet ends abruptly without stating this conclusion.) Apparently, Rav Kasher censored his own conclusion. He does stipulate at the end of the original teshuva that he is writing le-halacha ve-lo le-maase until the Gedolei Ha-Rabbanim in Israel agree to permit the yibum. It is possible that Rav Kasher did not receive such approval, and subsequently decided to censor his own conclusion when he published the teshuva.
VIII The Rav on Rabbi Meir Kahane
In addition to the archives of Chief Rabbi Herzog, the archives of his son, President Chaim Herzog, have also been scanned and are available. A very intriguing file in his archive is the file dedicated to Rabbi Meir Kahane.[12] A fascinating document in that file is a letter about Kahane written to Herzog by the Rav in the summer of 1984. The background to the letter: in 1984, Kahane became a member of the Knesset, representing the Kach party. Traditionally, during the process of building a coalition, the president would invite every party to take part in coalition negotiations. Herzog, however, snubbed Kahane and refused to invite him.[13] It was in response to this snub that the Rav wrote the letter below to Herzog, which is surprisingly supportive of Kahane:
The Rav starts by mentioning his close relationship with Rav Herzog, and that Chaim Herzog was actually named for his grandfather, the great Rav Chaim Soloveichik of Brisk.[14] The Rav says that he cannot understand how Herzog could invite the representatives of Arafat, but did not invite Kahane. The Rav adds that Kahane is “ktzat talmid chacham” despite his shigonot, and that he is a yarei shamayim who fights for the Torah and kvod shamayim. The Rav says that someone as energetic as Kahane should be moderated and he could contribute.
(Other sources have portrayed the Rav’s view of Kahane far more negatively, claiming that the Rav regarded Kahane’s “selective citation of Jewish sources as a distortion and desecration of Torah.”[15] Additionally, it is related that, at some point in the 1980s[16], the Rav told others that Kahane should not be given a platform to speak at YU.[17] I am not sure how to reconcile this portrayal of the Rav’s view of Kahane with the Rav’s own letter to Herzog that was rather supportive and praising of Kahane.)
The Rav then gives Herzog some gentle mussar for being irreligious and encourages him to keep mitzvot while in public as a Kiddush Hashem. Herzog’s response to the Rav also appears in the same file.
Kahane and Herzog had quite a contentious (non-)relationship, extending far beyond the coalition snub, as is evidenced by the rest of Herzog’s file on Kahane. This is a scathing column that Kahane wrote for the Jewish Press, also found in Herzog’s archive, in which Kahane dubs Herzog “vinegar son of wine”, among other insults:
Additionally, Kahane’s Kach party presented Herzog with the inaugural Pras Idud Ha-hitbolelut – “Award for the Encouragement of Assimilation” 5745, as appears below:
The above is a sampling of the important and interesting documents contained in the archives. As mentioned, there is certainly much more fascinating material to be found. In the meanwhile, אנו יושבים ומצפים לגאולה שלמה, ייתי ונחמיניה.
[2] http://www.hebrewbooks.org/pdfpager.aspx?req=23218&st=&pgnum=16. See also Rav Chaim David Regensburg’s criticism of this thesis in Kerem Volume 1, pages 93-94 (also reprinted in his Mishmeret Chaim), and the comments of Rav Hershel Schachter brought in Shiurei Ha-rav (Sanhedrin), page 37, footnote 35.
[4] Dr. Revel did cite statements of other rishonim that he believed supported his view. Perhaps R’ Maimon mistakenly thought that Dr. Revel had supported his view with manuscripts of the Rambam, rather than other rishonim.
[5] Nefesh Ha-rav page 18 footnote 22 , Shiurei Ha-rav (Sanhedrin) page 27. See also Leaves of Faith (volume 1) pages 121 and 134, where Rav Lichtenstein attributes this approach to Rav Moshe Soloveichik. From the other sources, it would seem that this approach was the Rav’s own. However, the recommendation letter that Rav Moshe wrote might imply that Rav Moshe also followed this approach.
[7] Sefer Yovel for Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, jointly published by Mosad HaRav Kook and Yeshiva University, at the end of Volume 1 (unpaginated). The transcription, along with an image, is also available here.
Lehmann’s transcription of Rav Moshe’s letter appears to be mostly accurate, with one exception. Towards the end of the letter, Lehmann’s transcription reads as follows:
וגם הם בדור עשירי לעזרא איכא בי’ מכל צד וצד…
This meaningless sentence is obviously an error in transcription. The transcription should read:
וגם הך דדור עשירי לעזרא איכא בי’ מכל צד וצד…
meaning that the Rav has illustrious lineage and zchut avot on both his father’s and mother’s side. (See Brachot 27b for the source of this expression.) It is also clear from Lehmann’s translation that he misunderstood this line entirely and did not realize that it was referring to the Rav and his lineage. See the translation here.
[13] “Rabbi Kahane was the only party leader in the Parliament whom President Herzog refused to see in the consultations that led to the President’s asking Shimon Peres, the Labor Party leader, to form a government.” (New York Times, August 14, 1984)
[14] Herzog himself mentions this in his memoir, Derech Chaim, although it does not appear in the English translation, Living History. Rav Chaim passed away on July 30, 1918, and Herzog was born on September 17, 1918.
[16] The Rav’s last shiur at YU/RIETS was in 1985 (The Rav, Volume 1, page 43), at which point he withdrew from public life due to his illness. Presumably, this incident must have occurred at some point before then.
Recently a kashrut controversy surrounding traditional Italian fried artichokes has received major media coverage in the New York Times and the Seforim Blog (twice, in chronological order, not order of importance). In order to prove the antiquity of Jewish artichoke consumption, depictions of artichokes in medieval illuminated haggadot have been adduced. These were the topic of a lesser-known artichoke controversy in 2012 here in the comments section of the Seforim Blog, which can be as nasty and difficult to find as artichoke bugs.
The Controversy: Do Catalonian medieval Haggadot portray maror as an artichoke? Were artichokes actually consumed in fulfillment of the rabbinic requirement to consume bitter herbs found in the Mishnah and Tosefta?
“Brother Haggadah”, BL Oriental 1404, f. 18
Here’s the story behind the scenes as it occurred in real time, during the Pessah season of 2012. I was scheduled to deliver a talk on chrayn at a rabbinic conference on the Hebrew language organized by Yitzhak Frank on April 10, Chol ha-Moed Pessah. In the course of some late preparatory research (= Googling) on April 5 (13 Nissan, the day of bedikat chametz) I came across a fascinating responsum on maror by David Golinkin that had just been published on April 2, 2012. Struck by the reliance on visual evidence from illustrated manuscripts in establishing a medieval custom to consume artichokes as maror, I sent the post to Marc Michael Epstein of Vassar College for comment. Within an hour he replied:
I don’t believe the Sephardic mss show an artichoke, rather they depict an entire head of romaine lettuce. The way to prove or disprove this would be to compare contemporary or roughly contemporary botanical mss.
I immediately began “intensive research” (= more Googling) and discovered that the artichoke question was (probably first) posed by Yoel Finkelman and his parents in 2005. Significantly, they already collected the three examples cited by Golinkin: the Rylands, Brother, and Sarajevo Haggadot. Finkelman states that his father circulated the query widely.
Rylands Haggadah, 1988 facsimile edition, f. 31v
The next day, April 6, Erev Pessah, I emailed Golinkin directly, requesting sources for his identifications. He replied on the same day that artichokes are definitely depicted in the three illuminated haggadot and that artichokes were probably identified as one of the five plant species mentioned in the Mishnah (Pesahim 2:6). Indeed, in Golinkin’s own post of April 2:
Rabbi Natan ben Yehiel of Rome (1035-ca. 1110) says in his Talmudic dictionary (ed. Kohut, Vol. 8, p. 245) that tamkha is cardo, which is cardoon. Prof. Feliks says that this is carduus argentatus or silver thistle, while Dr. Schaffer says that it is cynara cardunculus or artichoke thistle.
So, textual and visual evidence interlock to support the conclusion that artichokes were used as Maror. However, the textual evidence is weak. SeferHa’arukh is a dictionary, not a responsum, a legal code or a gloss to one, like Hagahot Maimoniyot which identifies tamkhaas horseradish – chrayn, associated with an actual custom. The definition of Ha’arukh is not a singular, definitive identification (yesh ‘omrim: marrobio, another species, also Rashi’s identification), and according to Prof. Jehudah Feliks cardo does not describe artichokes at all.
Opposite this scanty textual evidence stands a mountain of Rabbinic silence. As far as I am aware, nowhere in any codes, Haggadas, commentaries, or anywhere else do we find even a hint that artichokes were ever used as maror. There are limits to what can be learned ex silentio but we are discussing thousands of sources. If artichokes were used, we would expect a mention somewhere.
As for the visual information, we have “two witnesses and three witnesses”: The Rylands and Brother Haggadahs should be considered one witness because one is copied from the other. Bezalel Narkiss designated the name “The Brother Haggadah” (along with a lot of other names of Haggadah, most of which have stuck, for better or worse) because it is the “brother” copied from the Rylands Haggadah. According to Katrin Kogman-Appel, the Brother was more likely the original from which the Rylands was copied. For our purposes, the direction of the copying makes no difference. Just as the Rosh and Tur can’t really be counted as two legal authorities, these two sources are reflections of one another. What about the other witness, the Sarajevo Haggadah?
I do not think that there is even a remote possibility that the Sarajevo Haggadah depicts an artichoke:
The leaves are ridged but all species of artichoke leaves are smooth save for the thorn in the middle. An artist whose intention was to depict artichokes would not draw them in this manner. Moreover, Epstein, (in personal correspondence) adds that the “artichoke” leaves are “veined” like lettuce leaves, and bound together with a cord at the base.
Israeli Artichoke, Photo: Leor Jacobi, April 20, 2012
The same day, April 6, Erev Pessah, I communicated my skepticism back to Golinkin, especially regarding the depiction in the Sarajevo Haggadah. Golinkin’s April 2 post had already inspired creative contemporary midrash by April 9 (the truth of which in revealing hidden aspects of the divine plan should be judged independently of the historical claims.) Clearly these progressive folk placed artichokes on their seder plate on seder night, April 6 or 7, 2012, and were already expounding homiletically on the custom they had only learned about on April 2 at the earliest. Epstein notes that this an excellent example in “real time” of a minhag in development thanks to what he calls “the heter of the Internet.”
I gave the Chrayn talk on April 10 and the very next day, April 11, a long and fascinating Seforim blog post by Dan Rabinowitz was published, wherein, inter alia, he stated:
In the Brother to the Rylands Haggadah, marror is depicted as an artichoke, as is in the case with the Sarajevo Haggadah.
Golinkin wasn’t cited but it’s doubtful that his April 2 post is the source — perhaps serendipity. After some discussion in the comments, Marc Epstein wrote:
Rabbosai (and Marasai): A manuscript is NOT a mirror. Jews depict themselves in their art (or commission art that depicts them) not as they were, but as they desired to be seen. Please please please do not engage in the typical Wissenschaft strategy of looking at illuminated manuscripts for “clues to Jewish life in the Middle Ages” or even to Jewish history. What we can learn from them is histoire des Mentalites, but even that takes a lot of work to get to.
Re: the “artichoke”: I don’t believe the Sephardic mss show an artichoke, rather they depict an entire head of romaine lettuce. The way to prove or disprove this would be to compare contemporary or roughly contemporary botanical mss. It may have been “misunderstood” by some illuminators as an artichoke, but not corrected by the recipients of the manuscript because if you are not looking for an artichoke it seems totally absurd that an artichoke would be used as maror, You don’t SEE an artichoke, but a head of Romaine lettuce, no matter how “artichoke-like” it seems to us in 5772.
Also, because a head of Romaine is SHOWN in the haggadah it doesn’t mean that there a head of (possible unchecked-for-bugs) Romaine on the table. Every image is not a snapshot, but a representation — a combination of the real, the general, the ideal and the symbolic. Showing the head is a way of REPRESENTING Romaine — it says, “We use a type of lettuce that grows with leaves together in a head like this.” It does NOT necessarily mean “We use complete heads of Romaine at the Seder, like this.” Do you see the difference? A representation must shorthand its descriptions for clarity: If you showed individual artichoke leaves, for instance, it would be difficult to ascertain that the plant was an artichoke. Artichoke leaves are shaped like baby spinach leaves, though baby spinach is more pliable. If a leaf of that shape was shown, what would distinguish the artichoke leaves? Showing an artichoke in its entire, thistly configuration makes it indisputable that it is an artichoke.
Epstein’s points are compelling. How does one portray lettuce in an illustration? For example, this modern lettuce clip-art isn’t much more lettuce-like than the illustration in the Brother Haggadah:
After Pessah, on April 22, I received an additional reply from Golinkin with more sources. The entry for maror in the first edition of Encyclopedia Judaica was written by Jehudah Feliks (pp. 1014-5). The entry includes an image of the maror depiction from the Sarajevo Haggadah with a caption:
According to this astounding caption, lettuce is depicted in the Sarajevo Haggadah but the claim is that it can still be supposed that the artichoke-like shape of the lettuce reflects an old custom of eating artichokes as maror. This custom had already been lost in the 14th century, but was preserved in the form of illustrations of maror in haggadot! (We find something similar in the illustrations of maror in the Prague Haggadah. According to Rav Peles, the custom of pointing at the wife when stating “this bitter[ness/Bitter Herb]” had already disappeared, but was preserved in the caption to themaror illustration in the Haggadah; see also here). However, note that above, in Golinkin’s post, Feliks did not identify the Arukh’s cardo as artichokes. It is not entirely clear that Feliks composed this caption. Bezalel Narkiss served as IIlustrations Consultant on the first edition (sadly most illustrations were cut from the second edition, including this one and the caption).
As Narkiss was then the acknowledged expert in medieval illuminated manuscripts, it stands to reason that he may have either selected the illustration or wrote the caption, either alone or in consultaion with Feliks. In any case, the author(s) of the caption maintain that lettuce is depicted even if the rest of their proposal is extremely speculative.
For the Rylands Haggadah, Golinkin cited the Raphael Loewe facsimile, Steimatzky, 1988: “The bitter herb is intended to be lettuce, despite its artichoke-like compactness.” This pithy source contradicts Golinkin’s identification, and suggests a practical explanation for this lettuce design.
As for the Brother Haggadah, Golinkin wrote that he learned about this from an expert on Jewish art. However, as far as I can tell this expert does not deal primarily with interpretation of medieval art. Theories are tested by evidence. Thus, it remains that if someone wishes to argue that these images depict artichokes the best way to advance the thesis would be by means of comparisons with contemporary illustrations of artichokes, as Marc Epstein advises.
Finally, an image of maror from the Barcelona Haggadah, folio 62, illustrates how creative illustrations of lettuce (?) could get and how dangerous it would be to try to learn history from them as if they were snapshots.
Adapted from Evelyn Cohen’s description in the facsimile volume:
Verso, The scribe left almost the whole of the page for a depiction of the bitter herbs, but the crude illustration we now see was not executed in the Middle Ages, although it may have been based on models from the fourteenth century. The vegetable, commonly portrayed in a highly stylized manner, was no longer understandable to the later artist, and the red holder with which it is sometimes shown seems to have been misunderstood by the artist, who interpreted it as a red crescent.
The post-medieval illustrator here may have utilized haggadah depictions of artichoky lettuce as a model and was probably as bewildered by them as we are. In note 39 Cohen lists the Hispano-Moresque, Graziano, Golden, and Sister Haggadas as displaying maror holders. The matzot in these haggadot look nothing like real matzot, with elaborate color and geometric designs. The entire maror holder could be a design element in this vein, so that the maror is grounded and not floating in space.
Graziano Haggadah
Sister Haggadah
‘Hispano-Moresque’ Haggadah
Golden Haggadah
Epstein adds (personal correspondence) that we should be wary of concluding on the basis of these images that Jews of Medieval Spain had actual red maror holders. They may have developed from an earlier model like the Golden Haggadah, which only meant to portray a reddish-yellow color which develops towards the base:
I certainly hope enterprising Judaica forgers, the creators of “Marrano cups” and such don’t get wind of this, or appraisers, experts and curators will have a whole new wave of fake “authentic” pre-Expulsion Sephardi ritual items to deal with. Indeed Romaine lettuce is most suitable for maror because it generates increasing bitterness the longer one chews the leaves, and the closer one gets to that all-important base. Romaine is appropriate for maror in metaphoric terms: like the servitude in Egypt, which started out as a “public works” project with the full participation even of Pharaoh, and ended up as the most abject of slavery, a torture inflicted exclusively upon the Israelites. When one first begins to chew the leaves Romaine lettuce, one could think one was eating a lovely salad. More chewing, and getting eventually to the lower “spine,” however, makes the experience increasingly bitter. The rabbis understood that unlike the consistent blast of heat one experiences with horseradish and other truly bitter plants, it is in the initially non-bitter, even pleasant, but then the increasing nature of the bitterness of Romaine that the precise metaphor for the Egyptian servitude is experienced.
It is notable that per Kogman Appel’s dating, the Golden Haggadah is earlier (c. 1320) than some of the examples brought above (c. 1350-), and may have served as their model in some sense, including the fact that whatever we are seeing, (whether the “veins” in a single lettuce leaf, or the ruffled leaves in the head when cut open and depicted laterally, like the Chinese cabbage shown below,) gives the leaf/leaves a “spiky” appearance. (If there is a lateral view here, the question, of course, is why such a view was taken. Most authorities prefer whole Romaine leaves for maror, so a view “cutting through” the head might be confusing, although some advocate the consumption of only, or primarily the spines.)
The more I think about it, although links and distinctions have been made between the opening sequence of biblical narrative illuminations in the Golden, Sister and Sarajevo Haggadot and the Rylands/Brother Haggadot, the TEXT illustrations (matzah, maror etc.) may have more mutual influence and cross-influence, and relate also to those in the Barcelona Haggadah and others. Since the GH was earlier than the Sarajevo, Rylands/Brother Haggadot, the image of the maror there, clearly— though stylized—Romaine may have influenced, been misunderstood by the artists of the later ms. In other words, the veiny (or the lateral, or side-viewed, rippling) leaves of Romaine could have been mistaken for the “spiky” leaves of an artichoke and thus been illustrated. (The Sarajevo artist, for instance, depicted the “artichoke” leaves not only as serrated but with “veins” more typical of lettuce.)
The Sarajevo, Rylands/Brother ARTISTS misunderstanding the [veined single lettuce leaf or laterally viewed or cut head of] lettuce in the Golden Haggadah or a similar model, might have thought they were illustrating an artichoke. The PATRONS did not “correct” this because OBVIOUSLY the vegetable could not have been an artichoke as there was no massoret of the use of that vegetable for maror. There for they accepted the “artichoke” of the artists as the “lettuce” of halakhah.
While we can never recover the actual conversation that precipitated the visual result, both consideration of the near-instantaneous creation via “the heter of the Internet” of the minhag of placing artichokes on the seder plate, and the spinning of homiletics around that minhag; and the invention of the “maror holder”are reflections—within our present conversation!—of the kinds of transmission problems ever present in such conversations in any time or place. This whole adventure has, for me, been very important in thinking about artist-patron relationships.
Cohen adds an interesting point (personal correspondence):
I found other manuscripts where there was a blank space where the image of the maror should have been placed, while all the other areas left blank by the scribe contained illustrations. This lead me to believe that the appearance of the maror was sometimes customized based on the minhag of the patron, who for whatever reason never had it added.
These are fascinating questions. The goal of the artists was to produce art which resonated with their patrons symbolically and aesthetically. By misinterpreting these images as snapshots of historical reality, we can invent artichokes and maror holders. One could just as well conclude that it was customary to only sit on one side of the Seder table!
Fast forward to May, 2018, we find ourselves embroiled in a new artichoke controversy and the Seforim Blog is back with artichokes in the Haggadah. This is a fascinating little post on kashrut and custom, but nothing about ancient or medieval practices can be proven from these sources. A follow-up post based on textual sources by Susan Weingarten, an expert on foods in antiquity (and incidentally, the sister of Elihu Shanun, who also spoke at the rabbinic conference on April 10, 2012 which started us off) provides a much more reliable textual path towards establishing the antiquity of artichoke consumption.
In summary, there is no evidence that Jews ever ate artichokes to fulfill the obligation of consuming maror on the Passover Eve. Maybe b’shas hadahak, but who knows? The textual evidence and visual evidence don’t support each other to advance a radical historical claim. However, artichokes are delicious and, if clean, Kosher for Pessah. Jews very likely did consume them historically wherever they were found.
Thanks to: Marc Epstein, David Golinkin, Evelyn Cohen, Sara Offenberg, Moshe Glass, and Jean Guetta. I also wish to acknowledge the Memorial Foundation for Jewish Culture for their support.
Gems from Rav Herzog’s Archive (Part 1 of 2): Giyus, Professor Lieberman and More
Gems from Rav Herzog’s Archive (Part 1 of 2):
Giyus, Professor Lieberman and More
By Yaacov Sasson
A tremendous resource that will be of great interest to Seforim Blog’s readers has been made available to the public. The entire archive of the great Rav Yitzchak Eizik Halevi Herzog, Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Israel, has been scanned and is now available online.[1] The archive contains hundreds of files on a wide range of topics, including Rav Herzog’s Piskei Halacha and Torah novellae, extensive correspondence on Israeli politics, Rav Herzog’s efforts to save Jews of Europe, and much more. Each file is dedicated to a specific topic, and many of these files contain upwards of a hundred pages of material. In short, the archive is a veritable treasure trove, and will be of great interest to those who are students of Torah, Halacha and Jewish history. Much of Rav Herzog’s Torah has been published in his numerous seforim; however, there is a significant amount of unpublished material in the archive. The purpose of this article is to make readers aware of some of the gems found in the archive, in particular the significant unpublished material. I have only begun to look through the vast amount of material that is available, and I am certain that there is much more to be found. The following are a select number of documents and files that I think will be of interest to the Seforim blog’s readers.
I Giyus Bnai Yeshivot
The archive contains an entire file dedicated to the always controversial issue of giyus bnai yeshivot, whether yeshiva students ought to be drafted to the army or exempted from the draft.[2] Within this file, there is an approximately 50-page kuntres written by Rav Herzog in 1948, dedicated to a halachic analysis of the topic. To the best of my knowledge, this very significant kuntres was never published, and it does not appear in any of Rav Herzog’s seforim.[3]
Rav Herzog addresses the issue in an extremely thorough manner, and deals with a wide variety of relevant sources and issues, such as the definition of milchemet mitzvah, and the words of the Rambam at the end of Hilchot Shemita VeYovel, among other issues. For example, on page 27, he discusses the possibility of milchemet mitzvah in the absence of a king, and concludes that milchemet mitzvah is still possible if the community of Jews living in Eretz Yisrael approves of the war. On page 12, Rav Herzog suggests, based on a diyuk, that the Rambam’s words at the end of Hilchot Shemita VeYovel exempting talmidei chachamim from waging war do not apply to a war of ezrat yisrael miyad tzar. (A similar reading of the Rambam was suggested by Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, in “The Ideology of Hesder” (Tradition Fall 1981), and was reprinted in Leaves of Faith Volume 1.) Rav Herzog also makes a fascinating contention (on page 2), that the British were the current-day manifestation of Esav, putting forward their split hoof and hypocritically claiming to seek justice, while quietly attempting to undermine the Jewish cause by supporting their enemies. It is obviously not feasible to summarize a 50 page kuntres in a single blog post; I will simply present Rav Herzog’s main conclusion. Rav Herzog suggests (pages 12 and 34) that yeshiva students should not be subject to giyus malei, full conscription, even during wartime. Rather, they should be subject to giyus chelki, partial conscription of a few hours a week, doing what Rav Herzog terms “hishtatfut” in the war effort, such as local shemira and the like.
While this was Rav Herzog’s halachic conclusion in the kuntres, when the issue of forced conscription became a potential reality ten years later, Rav Herzog sent a heartfelt letter to Ben-Gurion, pleading for the exemption of bnai yeshivot, since they are already conscripted to the security of Torah and the heritage of Am Yisrael, and their Torah learning is a shield for Am Yisrael. This letter, which is found in the file of Rav Herzog’s correspondence with Ben-Gurion[4], appears below:
Another noteworthy document in the file on giyus bnai yeshivot is a 1948 telegram from the Roshei Yeshiva of the American yeshivot, expressing their shock at the possibility of giyus bnai yeshivot, and urging Rav Herzog and Rav Uziel to make sure that bnai yeshivot remain exempt from army service. The telegram appears below, as well as my transcription of the telegram into Hebrew:
נבהלנו מאד לשמוע שאומרים לבטל השחרור של בני ישיבות ולקחתם לצבא. הדבר נוגע לנפש ורוח חיי אומתנו ויגרום חילול השם בין הגויים המשחררים בני ישיבות מעבודת הצבא אפילו בשעת מלחמה. השתדלו בכל תוקף להעביר רוע הגזירה, ואין מעצר להש[ם] להושיע. בשם כל הישיבות,
The telegram is especially noteworthy because of the appearance of the names of the Charedi Roshei Yeshiva, such as Rav Aharon Kotler, Rav Reuven Grozovsky, Rav Moshe Feinstein etc. together with the names of the more modern Roshei Yeshiva of RIETS: the Rav, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveichik, and Dr. Samuel Belkin. Such collaboration would seem to be almost impossible in later years.
II Professor Saul Lieberman on Rav Herzog’s Torat Ha-Ohel
Rav Herzog maintained a close relationship with Professor Saul Lieberman, as Dr. Marc Shapiro has mentioned previously on the Seforim blog[6], and noted in his “Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox”, page 22.[7] It should therefore come as no surprise that Rav Herzog’s archive contains correspondence between him and Lieberman. The letter that appears below was sent by Lieberman to Rav Herzog, and contains Lieberman’s haarot on Rav Herzog’s Torat Ha-Ohel, his sefer on the Rambam’s Hilchot Sanhedrin.[8] In this letter, Lieberman first discusses the proper girsaot in the relevant Rambam and the gemara in Makot regarding minuy dayanim. He then addresses Rav Herzog’s question of how it could be possible that bnai noach have a more extensive obligation of dinim than do Yisrael,[9] and Lieberman offers an elegant yeshiva-style distinction between dinei yisrael and dinei bnai noach to answer the problem. (A similar distinction was offered by Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, in Beit Yitzchak 8, page 89, and reprinted in his Minchat Aviv.) He offhandedly mentions that Rav Menachem Kasher had recently “acquired” some of his material, and then bemoans the fact that RY”D is too involved in the ol ha-tzibur and is not dedicating himself sufficiently to his Torah study, although he has the potential to become the Gaon Ha-Dor.
Lieberman’s letter appears below, and a transcription appears in Appendix A.
It is most likely that the RY”D to whom Lieberman referred was Rav Yaakov David Herzog, Rav Herzog’s son, as the context within the letter is dealing with Rav Herzog’s family. Rav Yaakov David had already published a scientific/critical edition of Mishnayot Brachot/Peah/Demai in 1945, at the young age of 24, and Lieberman wrote a Foreword to the volume.[10] Rav Yaakov David Herzog was eventually selected as Chief Rabbi of Great Britain in the 1960s, but declined the post due to his ill health.[11]
I also entertained the possibility that the RY”D to whom Lieberman referred is the Rav, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveichik. While this seems unlikely, it would fit nicely with the comments made by Rabbi Jacob Radin, as quoted by Rav Aaron Rakeffet[12], contrasting the Rav and Lieberman:
You know that I have attended classes in both the Seminary and the Yeshiva. I have studied with Professor Lieberman and the Rav. The Professor lectures a few times a week. He hurriedly finishes and rushes back to his research. Outside of his formal lectures, he is barely available to the students. On the other hand, the Rav is never alone. He has never finished a lecture on time. He always goes overtime. He remains in the classroom afterwards to carry on the Talmudic give and take with the students who cannot part from him. Even when he rises to leave, his disciples surround him and the discussion continues…This is the basic manifest difference between these two prodigious scholars.[13]
On Lieberman’s mention of Rav Kasher, this is the page that Lieberman referenced from Tosefet Rishonim:
And the page from Rav Kasher’s article in Sinai, Volume 18:
A number of the rather obscure sources in Rav Kasher’s lengthy footnote 2 appear to be taken from Lieberman’s Tosefet Rishonim.
III The Lieberman Ketuba
As is well-known, Lieberman introduced a new clause into the ketuba in the early 1950s in order to alleviate the aguna problem. The clause stipulated that the couple recognizes the authority of the beit din of the Rabbinical Assembly, and that upon dissolution of the marriage, the beit din would be empowered to administer penalties as it sees fit. The aim of these penalties would be to pressure the husband to give a get. In a number of letters from the 1950s (in a file regarding Even HaEzer issues[14]), Rav Herzog mentions that he himself came up with such an idea many years earlier when he was still Chief Rabbi of Ireland. He envisioned a separate document which would empower the beit din of London to administer financial penalties on a husband withholding a get. He mentions that he is unsure of Professor Lieberman came up with this idea himself, or if Lieberman actually got the idea from Rav Herzog.
Rabbi Emanuel Rackman wrote that it was widely believed that the Lieberman clause was examined by Rav Herzog, and that he had no objections.[15] This belief is certainly false, as Rav Herzog penned a strong protest to the proposed addition to the ketuba.[16] Rav Herzog’s main protest was due to the authority granted to the Conservative beit din. It is possible that the root of this misconception (that Rav Herzog approved of the Lieberman clause) is the fact that Rav Herzog independently envisioned a similar document or agreement, and that he entertained the possibility that Lieberman actually got the idea from him.
IV The Epstein Proposal
Another fascinating exchange between Rav Herzog and Lieberman is found in Rav Herzog’s file dedicated to Reform[[17] and Conservative Jewry[18], and relates to the Rabbinical Assembly’s 1957 attempt to resuscitate the Epstein proposal. Rabbi Louis Epstein had proposed, in his 1930 book Hatzaa Lemaan Takanat Agunot, that every husband, at the time of marriage, ought to designate his wife as a shliach to deliver her own get, in order to eliminate the aguna problem in the case of a missing husband or a get-refuser. The proposal was never implemented, in large part due to Orthodox opposition. In May of 1957, the Rabbinical Assembly attempted to resuscitate the Epstein Proposal at their Annual Convention at the Concord Hotel in Kiamesha Lake, New York. However, this attempt to revive the Epstein proposal must be viewed in light of the politics within the Conservative movement at that time. The following is an excerpt from the Presidential Report of Rabbi Aaron Blumenthal at the Rabbinical Assembly Convention[19]:
Note in particular Rabbi Blumenthal’s comments that the Seminary is an Orthodox institution, that its synagogue has separate seating and does not use the Rabbinical Assembly siddur, and that practically every faculty member added to the Talmud faculty in the last 15 to 20 years thinks of himself as an Orthodox Jew and has little regard for the Conservative movement. Given that Lieberman was the de-facto Rabbi of this synagogue, and that Lieberman ensured that the synagogue did not use the Rabbinical Assembly siddur, and that the synagogue maintained separate seating until Lieberman’s death[20], it would seem that Rabbi Blumenthal’s words were directed primarily at Lieberman, who arrived at the Seminary some 17 years prior.
It is against this backdrop that the Rabbinical Assembly passed a Resolution that the Rabbinical Assembly Committee on Jewish Law and Standards review the Epstein proposal and submit a plan for its implementation.
The report below from the National Jewish Post and Opinion makes clear that the left wing of Conservative Judaism felt that the Lieberman ketuba did not go far enough in addressing the aguna problem and therefore sought to institute the Epstein proposal. On the other hand, the more traditional wing of Conservative Judaism, led by Rabbi Louis Finkelstein, Chancellor of JTS, wanted the proposal referred to a joint committee made up of JTS faculty and RA members. Rabbi Blumenthal’s complaint about the Orthodox character of the Seminary faculty was not just an observation, but also a charge to the RA regarding the Epstein proposal, that they not allow the Seminary faculty to torpedo the proposal. Rabbi Finkelstein’s group lost the vote 92-88, in what was, in a sense, a repudiation of Lieberman’s Orthodox influence, and a rejection of his ketuba as too Orthodox and not impactful enough.[21] The majority of the RA membership was prepared to head in a more liberal direction.
After the passage of the Rabbinical Assembly resolution, the Agudat HaRabbanim turned to Rav Herzog in the letter below, asking him to intervene and prevent this breach of kedushat hamishpacha beyisrael.[22] (It is not clear to me why they termed the Epstein proposal nisuin al tnay, or conditional marriage, which is a different attempted mechanism to prevent aguna situations.)
In response to the request of Agudat HaRabbanim, Rav Herzog turned to Lieberman in the letter below, asking him to intervene and prevent the implementation of the proposed nisuin al tnay.[23](Rav Herzog apparently understood the proposal to be literally one of conditional marriage, and thus referred Lieberman to the book Ain Tnay Benisuin, rather than the book LeDor Acharon, mentioned in the Agudat HaRabbanim letter, which deals with the Epstein proposal.)
In response to Rav Herzog’s letter, Lieberman sent Rav Herzog the very fascinating letter below. (A transcription of this letter appears in Appendix B.) Lieberman tells Rav Herzog that the Orthodox Rabbis are simply looking for excuses to make machloket, that Rabbi Finkelstein strongly protested the re-introduction of the Epstein proposal (as we noted was reported in the National Jewish Post), and that the President of the Assembly (Rabbi Blumenthal) also denied the claim of the Agudat HaRabbanim. He then says that the entire purpose of his revised ketuba was to bury the possibility of the Epstein proposal! He also mentions that some Orthodox Rabbis have claimed that any wedding which uses the new ketuba is invalid, and the kiddushin are not tofsin. (I have been unable to find any documented source of a Rabbi who made such a claim. I would be indebted to any of the readers who could provide such a source.) Lieberman concludes by assuring Rav Herzog that he would be the first to protest the implementation of the Epstein proposal, and that such a nevala could never happen while he is at the Seminary.
Rabbi Blumenthal’s denial was in fact reported by the JTA.[24] He said that the Assembly only authorized a committee to re-study the problem.
Some points remain unclear to me, as Rabbi Finkelstein’s group did indeed lose the vote, and the RA did pass a resolution that the Rabbinical Assembly Committee on Jewish Law and Standards submit a plan for the implementation of the Epstein proposal. I find it hard to understand Rabbi Blumenthal’s denial, or how Lieberman could claim that the Orthodox Rabbis were simply seeking machloket, when the RA passed a resolution for implementation (even documented in the RA Proceedings), with the left-wing defeating the traditional wing.
(to be continued)
Appendix A
Letter from Lieberman to Rav Herzog about Torat Ha-Ohel
בע”ה אור ליום ד’ פרש’ לך תש”ט
לידידי הגאון הגדול האמתי מרן רי”א הלוי הירצוג, לב”ב ולכל הנלוים עליו שלום רב.
היום קבלתי את יקרת כ”ג ואעשה כמובן כבקשתו. והנה נזכרתי שאני חייב התנצלות לכ”ג על שתיקתי הממושכה. היו כמה סיבות וטעמים לדבר. את ספרו היקר קבלתי בזמנו ונהניתי מאד מחידושיו הנפלאים ובקיאותו המפליאה. לא רציתי להטריד אותו בהערותי שמא יראה נחיצות נמוסית להשיב, והרי מכיר אני את טרדותיו המרובות, ולמה להעמיס עליו עוד משא? כדי שלא יהי’ מכתבי כשטר הדיוטות ארשום לו כמה דברים קלים שאינם צריכים עיון ומו”מ. דברי הר”מ בפ”א מהל’ סנהדרין ה”ב קשה להגיה, וכנראה שלדעת הר”מ אין כלל מצוה למנות דיינים בחו”ל, כפי שהבין בו הרמב”ן בפרש’ שופטים, וכן משמע מלשונו של הר”מ בסה”מ עשין קע”ו ומקורו הוא הבבלי במכות ספ”א[25] לפי גירסת המאירי שם: “אבל בחו”ל אי אתה מושיב בכל פלך ופלך ובכל עיר ועיר.” והוא מביא שם את גירסת התלמוד שלנו בשם “ויש גורסים” ומסיים: ולא נראה כן. ואשר לפסק הר”מ בספ”ט מה’ מלכים נראה שהוא חלק בין ב”נ ובין ישראל. שהרי ישראל מצווים למנות שופטים כמ”ע של שופטים ושוטרים תתן לך, ואפילו יצוייר שנהיה בטוחים שישראל לא יעברו על שום עברה ג”כ מצוה למנות שופטים. ברם ב”נ מחוייב למנות שופטים רק מפני שהוא מצווה על הדינין, כלומר שישגיח שלא יעברו על מצות ב”נ. ואם לא מנה שופטים בפלך ועבר אחד מהם עברה ולא דנו אותו כלם חייבים מיתה (שהרי כל אחד ראוי לדון יחידי), אבל כ”ז שלא עברו עברה אינם חייבים מיתה על מינוי דיינים אפילו לשיטת הר”מ.[26] ועיין ביד רמה נו ע”ב וברש”י ד”ה כך נצטוו, ומלשונו של הרמ”ה משמע שכן היה לפניו מפורש בגמרא שבני נח הוזהרו מחמת “ושפטו.”
בענין גר העמלקי (דף נ”ו) עיין מ”ש החיד”א ביעיר אוזן, עין זוכר מערכת ג’ אות א’ דברים מחוכמים מאד.
[בעני]ן מכת מרדות (צ”ט) עיין בשו”ת [הר]שב”ש סי’ תר”י וציינתי לו בתוספת ראשונים ח”ב צד 170 (עכשיו ראיתי שידידנו הרב כשר קנה במשיכה מספרי שם את כל החומר ופרסמם בסיני.)
כפי שאמרתי לא ארבה בדברים שצריכים לינה בעומקה של הלכה, ואני מקוה שנוכל לדבר ע”ז אי”ה פה אל פה.
על כמה דברים שנתחדשו אצל כ”ג באופן פרטי שמענו מאורחים וידידים היורדים מהתם להכא ושמחנו מאד לשמוע שכלתו הכבודה ב”ה נתרפאה לגמרי. מצטער אני מאד שרי”ד[27] שלנו נושא בעול הצבור ואינו מתפנה לגמרי לעולה של תורה. הרי עדיין הוא צעיר ויכול להיות לגאון הדור. ומדי דברי בו נזכרתי ששאל אותי מקום הירושלמי: התלמיד תוך ד’ אמות ברם הרב אפילו חוץ לד’ אמות והשבתי לו שירושלמי כזה אין לפנינו. ואעפ”י שכן הוא האמת בכ”ז שכחתי באותה שעה שכן מביא הריטב”א בסוכה כ”ח בשם הירושלמי.
אצלנו אין כל חדש. אנו יושבים ומצפים לגאולה שלמה, ייתי ונחמיניה.
בפ”ש מבית לבית
הנני מעריצו ומוקירו וידידו הנאמן
שאול ליברמן
הייתי מכיר טובה מאד לרבנית שתחי’ אם תודיע לנו בפרוטרוט על חיימקה שיחי’ ומשפחתו ועל רי”ד אהובנו.[28]
Appendix B
Letter from Lieberman to Rav Herzog about the Epstein Proposal
בעה”י יום ה’ פרש’ מטות תשי”ז
לכבוד ידידינו הגאון הגדול האמיתי מרן הרי”א הלוי הירצוג הרב הראשי לא”י ברכה ושלום רב.
יקרת כ”ג מי’ תמוז הועברה אלי לכרם מרתה[29], ומאד מאד התפלאתי שכ”ג האמין לדיבת הרבנים כאן. אמנם בכנסיית הרבנים השמרנים דברו על עיון מחדש בשאלת תנאי בקידושין, אבל ד”ר פינקלשטיין יצא בכל תוקף נגד חידוש העיון. ונשיא הכנסיה הנ”ל הכחיש בעצמו את דיבת הרבנים. אבל הללו מחפשים רק אמתלאות למחלוקת. כל עניין הכתובה היה כדי לקבור לגמרי את שאלת התנאי. הסברתי להם שאם ליחיד אפשר פעם לחשוב ע”ז הרי לרבים אין הדבר בא כלל בחשבון שהתנאי יעשה ע”פ דין, וישתקע הדבר ולא יעלה שוב על הפרק. וכולם הסכימו ל[י]. עכשיו יש מהם שבאים בטענות ואומרים: הרי הרבנים הארתודוכסים טוענין שאף הכתובה נעשתה שלא כדין, ויש מהם (כלומר מהרבנים הארתודוקסים) שאמרו שהמתחתן בכתובה החדשה אין הקידושין תופסין, והאשה מותרת בלי גט (ממש לא יאומן כי יסופר! אבל לצערי נאמרו הדברים), א”כ הרי מוטב לעשות תנאי בקידושין, ולהפטר מכל שאלת העגונה בבת אחת. והנני מבטיח את כב”ג שאין לשמועה שום יסוד, אחרת הייתי אני בין הראשונים למחות, וכל זמן שאני בסמינר לא יתכן שיעשו נבלה כזו.
[3] A short one-page summary of the kuntres appears in R’ Zorach Warhaftig’s Chuka Leyisrael, page 236. However, R’ Warhaftig neglects to mention that Rav Herzog advocated only giyus chelki.
[5] Every name on the telegram is relatively well known, except for Rothenberg. I assume this is Rav Moshe Rothenberg, founder of Yeshivat Chachmei Lublin of Detroit. See Toldot Anshei Shem page 126, here.
[10] See here. Interestingly, Lieberman signed the Foreword as “Saul Lieberman, Dean, Harry Fischel Institute, Jerusalem”, even though Lieberman had been teaching in JTS for five years already. (In the Foreword, he notes that the publication of the volume coincided with Harry Fischel’s 80th birthday, in 1945.) In fact, Lieberman’s name appeared atop the Harry Fischel Institute’s stationery as late as 1949 (can be seen in Rav Herzog’s file on Machon Harry Fischel.) It would appear that Lieberman continued to serve in some capacity as Dean of the Harry Fischel Institute even after he left Israel to come to America. Incredibly, he held one foot in each world simultaneously, as Dean of the Harry Fischel Institute and Professor in JTS, a fact that has heretofore eluded his biographers. My good friend Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin reports in the name of Mr. Carmi Schwartz, Executive Vice President of the Council of Jewish Federations, that Lieberman willed most of his considerable life savings to the Harry Fischel Institute after his death, and not to JTS.
[13] For more on the Rav and Lieberman, see Rav Rakeffet’s “A Note on R. Saul Lieberman and the Rav”, in Tradition, Winter 2007. Also noteworthy is the following story that appears in Rav Hershel Schachter’s Mipninei Ha-rav:
The head of the Seminary who gave the shiur with which the Rav disagreed so vehemently is none other than Lieberman. Warren’s visit to the Seminary was covered on the front page of the New York Times (September 14, 1957.) (For a humorous account of how Lieberman sipped tea through a sugar cube that weekend in the presence of former president Harry Truman, see “The Rabbi as Symbolic Exemplar” by Jack Bloom, page 37.) Here is the New York Times’ account of Lieberman’s shiur:
A similar account of the shiur appears in the Sentinel (September 26, 1957)
Regarding Lieberman’s suggestion that the principle of Ain Adam Meisim Atzmo Rasha is predicated on the presumption of teshuva, there appears to be another difficulty, in addition to that raised by the Rav. The gemara in Makot 13b states:
חייבי מיתות ב”ד אינו בכלל מלקות ארבעים שאם עשו תשובה אין ב”ד של מטה מוחלין להן
The gemara states explicitly that teshuva is not efficacious in absolving a sinner of capital punishment, which would seem to contradict Professor Lieberman’s thesis. My good friend Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin has offered the following original suggestion to resolve the problem. Professor Lieberman might have believed that the gemara in Makot which states that teshuva does not absolve capital punishment is referring to after gmar din, when the sinner has already been tried and sentenced. At that point, teshuva is no longer effectual. However, the principle of Ain Adam Meisim Atzmo Rasha applies before trial and sentencing, and teshuva would absolve a sinner before sentencing. This reading of the gemara in Makot is certainly plausible, although it does run contrary to the reading of the Noda B’Yehuda (Orach Chaim 34, s.v. ela), who assumes that the gemara is referring to before gmar din as well. Additionally, it would seem difficult to assume that a confession is indicative of teshuva if a sinner is aware that he can absolve himself of punishment by simply admitting his guilt in beit din. However, this approach would explain why the Rav raised a difficulty based on the words of the Raavad, and not the gemara in Makot, as the gemara in Makot is not a conclusive proof.
[15] “Conflict and Consensus in Jewish Political Life”, page 120, also cited in “Saul Lieberman: the Man and his Work”, page 45. My thanks to my good friend Dr. Josh Lovinger for bringing this to my attention.
[16] Techuka leYisrael al pi Torah, volume 3 page 210.
[17] The correspondence in that file also shows the effort that Rav Herzog expended in an attempt to prevent the Reform movement from gaining any foothold whatsoever in Israel.
[26] This would also answer the (similar) question of the Gvurot Ari in Makot 7a, s.v. UveChu”l.
[27] As mentioned, I believe that this refers to Rav Yaakov David Herzog.
[28] Future president of Israel, Chaim Herzog, and Rav Yaakov David Herzog.
[29] Martha’s Vineyard.
The Not-So-Humble Artichoke in Ancient Jewish Sources
The
Not-So-Humble Artichoke in Ancient Jewish Sources
Susan
Weingarten
Susan
Weingarten is an archaeologist and food historian living in
Jerusalem. This is an adapted extract from her paper ‘The
Rabbi and the Emperors: Artichokes and Cucumbers as Symbols of Status
in Talmudic Literature,’
in When
West met East: the Encounter of Greece and Rome with the Jews,
Egyptians and Others: Studies presented to Ranon Katzoff on his 75th Birthday. Edited
by D.
Schaps, U. Yiftach and D. Dueck.
(Trieste,
2016).
There
has been a lot of discussion of artichokes recently in the wake of
the ruling by the Israeli Rabbinate that they are not kosher. A
recent post on Seforim Blog traced their ancestry as a Jewish food
back to the 14th
century.
But we can go back further, to the talmudic literature, where
artichokes appear as qinras. We
can identify many Greek (and fewer Latin) food-names in the Aramaic
and Hebrew of the written texts of the talmudic literature. The
rabbis sometimes use Greek terminology to explain food names. Thus,
for example, biblical regulations on agriculture include a ban on
growing two different kinds of crops together. Mishnah Kilayim
tells
us that thistles (qotzim)
are allowed in a vineyard, i.e. they are seen as wild growths, but
artichokes (qinras)
are not allowed, so that it is clear that artichokes are seen as
cultivated rather than wild growths.[1] Qotz,
the wild thistle, is a biblical Hebrew term, while the Aramaic qinras
appears
to be derived from the Greek for artichoke,
kinara
or kynara.
Artichokes
were carefully cultivated in the Graeco-Roman world; presumably their
name came with the agricultural methods which turned wild thistles
into cultivated artichokes. It is still difficult to know whether the
artichoke proper is meant here, or rather the closely related
cardoon.[2] It is clear, however, that there were a number of edible
thistles which grew wild, and that the artichoke is a cultivated
variety. The medical writer Galen describes the artichoke as
‘overvalued.’[3] This was partly because of its negative health
properties, for he saw it as unwholesome, sometimes hard and woody,
with bitter juice. So he recommends boiling artichokes and adding
coriander if eating them with oil and garum;[4]
or frying them in a pan.
But
Galen’s objections to artichokes may not be merely medical. They
may also be an echo of the attitude we find in Pliny,[5] who tells us
that artichokes were exceptionally prized by the gourmets of Rome,
and that there was a roaring trade in them. Pliny disapproved:
‘There
still remains an extremely profitable article of trade which must be
mentioned, not without a feeling of shame. The fact is that it is
well-known that at Carthage, and particularly at Cordoba, crops of carduos,
artichokes,
yield
a return of 6000 sesterces from small plots – since we turn even
the monstrosities of the earth to purposes of gluttony … they are
conserved in honey-vinegar with silphium and cumin, so that there
should be no day without thistles for dinner.[6]
Pliny,
writing in the first century, uses all the tricks of rhetoric to put
over his disapproval of this ridiculous fad of over-valuing
artichokes, and eating them out of season: note the alliteration and
assonance of carduos
with
Cartago and Corduba, which he presumably despised as far-away
provincial cities.[7] He is also indignant about the enormous prices
charged for them, satirising the rich who eat the artichokes as being
lower than the animals who despise them.[8] His diatribe does not
seem to have been generally successful. Artichokes were still clearly
prized in the Roman world of the third and fourth centuries: a mosaic
from the so-called ‘House of the Buffet Supper’ in Antioch shows
them on a silver tray as a first course for dinner.[9] And in a
Palestinian context, another mosaic with what look like two purplish
artichoke heads and a silver bowl, dated to the third century, has
been found recently in excavations of ancient Jerusalem – or rather Aelia
Capitolina.[10]
The
classical picture of artichokes as food for the rich and upper
classes is confirmed by the talmudic literature. For example, Midrash
Esther Rabbah, writes:
‘Bar
Yohania made a feast for the notables of Rome … What was missing?
Only the qinras
(=artichoke).’[11]
S.
Klein in his article ‘Bar-Yohannis from Sepphoris at Rome,’
suggested
that this may be the first reference to the famous Roman Jewish
artichoke dish carciofi
alla giudia.[12]
(For a recipe see E. Servi Machlin The
Classic Cuisine of the Italian Jews
[NY,1981,
1993] p. 180-1). Unfortunately there is no proof to confirm Klein’s
charming suggestion, since, as we have seen, artichokes seem to have
been famously popular among the Roman pagan nobility.[3] One of the
reasons for the perceived desirability of artichokes as food may also
have been the effort needed to prepare them – an effort usually
only available to the rich through their slaves – the poor would
have had little time for this. But one time when the poorer Jews
would have had time would be on a festival, when ordinary work was
not allowed, but food-preparation was permitted, as it contributed to
the enjoyment of the festival. The Tosefta specifically states that
while cutting vegetables was generally not allowed on a festival (in
case people actually went and cut them down in the fields), trimming
artichokes and ‘akavit/‘aqubit,
a wild thorny plant, was allowed, as this was part of the preparation
needed for cooking these prickly vegetables, which was allowed on a
festival:
‘[On
a festival] they do not cut vegetables with shears but they do trim
the qinras,
artichoke,
and the‘akavit/‘aqubit.’[14]
Whether
poorer people actually ate artichokes as special festival food, or
rather only ate the wild ‘akavit/‘aqubit
is
unclear from this source. It is also unclear what the reason for
trimming was: to remove the thorny stems or to cut off the upper part
of the leaves and remove the inedible inner part known as the
‘choke’?
The
Babylonian Talmud records that artichokes were sent over long
distances to be eaten by Rabbi Judah haNasi. A rich man called Bonias
‘sent Rabbi a measure of artichokes from Nawsah, and Rabbi
estimated it at two hundred and seventeen eggs.’[15] The eggs here
are a measure of volume: clearly there were quite a lot of
artichokes. ‘Nawsah’ may refer to a settlement on an island in
the Euphrates River outside Babylonia.[16] It was a long way from
Galilee where Rabbi lived, and only the rich could afford to pay for
the transport of these luxuries. Some way of preserving the
artichokes, like keeping them in honey-vinegar as described by Pliny
above, must have been used.
Unlike
the classical sources, there is no moral condemnation here of
artichokes as symbols of conspicuous consumption, and tampering with
nature. The rabbis of the Talmudim are generally presented as
appreciative of good food, and as seeing feasting as desirable,
rather than to be condemned.[17] Eating good food, for example, is
one of the recommended ways of celebrating or ‘honouring’ Sabbath
and festival.[18] Indeed, Rabbi himself, when looking back
nostalgically to the time when the Temple still stood, represented
his longing for it in terms of desire for the wonderful foods that
would have been available in that now legendary time.[19]
How
did Rabbi eat his cucumbers and artichokes? Unfortunately the
talmudic literature does not tell us, but there are details in some
Roman authors which may give us some idea of the possibilities.
Athenaeus tells us artichokes must be well-seasoned, or they will be
inedible. The fourth-century Roman cookery book attributed to Apicius
recommends serving artichokes with liquamen
and
oil, and either chopped boiled egg; or cumin and pepper; or pounded
green herbs with pepper and honey.[20] We have already cited Rabbi’s
contemporary, the medical writer Galen, who visited Syria and other
parts of the Near East. He sometimes describes methods of cooking
similar to those found in the talmudic literature.[21] We saw that
Galen recommends eating artichokes boiled with the addition of
coriander, garum
and
oil. He also mentions frying them. Was this the origin of carciofi
alla giudia?
[1]
Mishnah Kilayim v 8.
[2]
The identification of the Latin term cardui
with
artichokes, rather than cardoons, has recently been questioned:C.A.
Wright ‘Did the ancients know the artichoke?’ Gastronomica
9/4
(2009) 21-27.
[3]
Galen On
the powers of foods ii.
[4] Garum
was
the famous Graeco-Roman salty fermented fish-sauce, called liquamen
by
Apicius, used widely as a condiment. R.I. Curtis Garum
and salsamenta: production and commerce in materia medica (Leiden,
1991); M. Grant Roman
Cookery
(London,
1999); S. Grainger, C.Grocock Apicius:
a critical edition,
(Totnes, 2006)373-387: Appendix
4: Excursus on garum and liquamen.
It is found in the talmudic literature under the name of muries:
S. Weingarten ‘Mouldy bread and rotten fish: delicacies in the
ancient world,’ Food
and History
3
(2005) 61-72. Sauces combined with garum are mentioned in eg Tos
Betsah ii, 16 and in BTYoma76a, but it is not clear that Babylonian
Jews were using this term to mean the same foodstuffs as were used by
the Jews of the Land of Israel.
[5]
Pliny : NH
19,
152f.
[6]
Pliny NH
19,
152-3: certum
est quippe carduos apud Carthaginem magnam Cordubamque praecipue
sestertium sena milia e parvis redderareis, quoniam portent quoque
terrarium in ganeam vertimus, serimusque etiam ea quae refugiunt
cunctae quadrupedes …condiuntur quoque aceto melle diluto addita
laseris radice et cumino, ne quis dies sine carduo sit.
[7]
On Pliny’s distrust of the ‘foreign’ taking over the Roman, an
old Roman literary trope, see T. Murphy Pliny
the Elder’s Natural
History:
the empire in the encyclopedia (Oxford,
2004) 68ff.
[8]
On Pliny’s hostility to luxury, a traditional theme of Latin
poetry: Murphy (above n.35) 71. See also M. Beagon Roman
Nature: the thought of Pliny the Elder
(Oxford,
1992) 190: ‘moral condemnation of luxuria
is
more than a commonplace to Pliny.’
[9]
F. Cimok (ed.) Antioch
Mosaics
(Istanbul,
1995) 44-47.
[10]
The mosaic was excavated by Shlomit Wexler-Bdollach and has been
published by Rina Talgam Mosaics
of Faith (Jerusalem/Pennsylvania,
2014) p. 48 fig 70. I am grateful to both for allowing me to see
their pictures and text prior to publication.
[11]
The question of whether the midrash is to be seen as referring to a
Persian situation is beyond the scope of this paper.
[12] BJPES
7
(1940) 47-51 (in Hebrew)
[13]
See also
I.
Löw Die Flora
der Juden
vol
I, (Wien, 1924, repr Hildesheim, 1967) p.409.
[14]
Tosefta Beitzah [Yom Tov] iii,19 and cf BTBeitzah 34a. ‘Akavit/
‘aqubit
has
been identified with tumbleweed, Gundelia
Tourneforti,
which is a wild edible thistle still eaten in Galilee and Lebanon,
and known by its Arabic name, ‘aqub. See
A. Shmida Mapa’s
dictionary of plants and flowers in Israel (Tel
Aviv, 2005, in Hebrew) 236; A. Helou ‘An edible wild thistle from
the Lebanese mountains’ in Susan Friedman (ed.) Vegetables:
proceedings of the Oxford Symposium on Food and Cookery 2008 (Totnes,
2009) 83-4. ‘Aqub can
still be bought in the present-day market in Tiberias in the spring,
its price depending on whether the vendor has removed the thorns or
left that pleasure to the buyer. Its taste when cooked is not unlike
artichoke.
[15]
BT Eruvin 83a (my translation).
[16]
For the identification of Nawsah see A. Oppenheimer, Babylonia
Judaica in the Talmudic Period
(Wiesbaden,
1983) pp.266-7.
[17]
This point about the generally positive attitude of the rabbis (in
this case the Babylonian rabbis) to the good things in life is made
by I.M. Gafni The
Jews of Babylonia in the talmudic era: a social and cultural history
(Jerusalem,
1990) 130 citing M. Beer Amoraei
Bavel – peraqim be-hayei ha-kalkalah
(Ramat
Gan תשל”ה
).
But having made his point, Gafni hedges here, warning against taking
a series of anecdotes from different periods as evidence. However, we
should note that this picture is consistent over both Palestinian and
Babylonian sources, and if we compare it to, say, the attitudes of
early Christian writers or Philo, we see that this trend is absent
there. See my paper ‘Magiros, nahtom
and
women at home: cooks in the Talmud’ Journal
of Jewish Studies 56
(2005)
285-297.
[18]
For a discussion of the rabbinical requirement in both Bavli
and Yerushalmi to honour the Sabbath by eating good food, see S.J.D.
Cohen,’Dancing, clapping, meditating: Jewish and Christian observance
of the Sabbath in pseudo-Ignatius’ in B. Isaac, Y. Shahar (eds) Judaea-Palaestina,
Babylon and Rome: Jews in Antiquity
(Tübingen,
2012) 33-38.
[19]
Midrash Lamentations Rabbah iii, 6/17.
[20] Apicius
3.6.
[21]
See e.g. S. Weingarten ‘Eggs in the Talmud’ in R. Hosking
(ed.) Eggs
in Cookery: Proceedings of the Oxford Symposium on Food and Cookery,
2006
(Totnes,
2007) 274-276.
The Humble Artichoke
The New York Times recently discussed a novel ruling of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate. The Rabbanut held that artichokes fall into the category of prohibited foods. This is not because they are listed as such in the Torah. Rather the expansion of the biblical category is because of a secondary concern, the presence of insects. Those insects may reside in the heart which without opening the tight leaves that comprise the vegetable one is unable to determine if insects are present, thus, eating artichokes whole risks also ingesting insects.
Jews in Italy, however, took issue with this ruling. They pointed to a long-standing tradition of eating artichokes whole after deep frying. That tradition places the creation of the dish sometime in the 16th century in the Jewish ghetto in Rome. Indeed, their preparation is so intertwined with Jews, in Italian it is called Jewish-style artichoke—Carciofo alla giudia. Today many travelbooks include this delicacy among those to try in Italy listing various kosher restaurants that offer the Jewish Artichoke. The Rabbi of Rome refused to reform the practice of Italian Jews and continues to eat and provide his hechsher to restaurants which serve this vegetable prepared in the traditional manner.[1]
The history of how the fried artichoke became associated with Jews is somewhat murky but likely dates at least to the 16th century. But we have even earlier manuscript evidence that artichokes were eaten by Jews. Indeed they were eaten at a time when Jews were especially punctilious regarding food, Pesach. A number of medieval haggadot contain illustrations of marror, most include a leafy green of some type. Two haggadot, the Rylands and the Brother, composed in the mid/late-14th century depict marror as an artichoke. [2]
[1] Regarding the autonomy of the local rabbinate see Teshuvot haRosh, Klal 21, 8-4, 9-2, and generally the sources collected in HaMahkloket beHalakha, Hanina Ben-Menahem, Neil Hecht, Shai Wosner, eds., vol. 2 (Boston: Institute of Jewish Law Boston University School of Law, 1993), 753-820.
Students of history will recall that this is not the first time that the norms and traditions of the Italian Jews came into conflict with the different prevailing norms among other groups of Jews. In the controversy engendered by the publication of the pamphlet Divrei Shalom ve-Emet by Naftali Herz Wessely in the aftermath of Emperor Joseph II’s Edict of Toleration, which called for educational reform among his Central European subjects. After his pamphlet was found objectionable and insulting by leading rabbis, Wessely wrote to rabbis in Italy, believing that many of the ideas he was advocating, like a graded curriculum, a non-exclusive emphasis on Talmud, and use of the general vernacular, were well within the norms of their tradition. In fact, with the exception of only one of the Italian rabbis, R. Ishmael Ha-kohen of Modena, all the others agreed and supported him and helped the controversy die out. These aspects of the Wessely affair are discussed in Lois C. Dubin, “Trieste and Berlin: The Italian Role in the Cultural Politics of the Haskalah,” chapter 8 in Jacob Kats, ed., “Towards Modernity: the European Jewish Model” (New York, 1987) and the series of articles by Yisrael Natan Heschel in KovetzBeit Aharon ve-Yisrael 8 (1993) titled “דעתם של גדולי הדור במלחמתם נגד המשכיל נפתלי הירץ וויזל.”
[2] The Rylands Haggadah manuscript is discussed in Katrin Kogman-Appel, Illuminated Haggadot from Medieval Spain: Biblical Imagery and the Passover Holiday (University Park: Penn State University Press, 2006) 91-97. The Brother manuscript has recently been reprinted in full with an excellent introduction by Marc Michael Epstein in addition to other relevant articles. The Brother Haggadah: A Medieval Sephardi Masterpiece in Facsimile (New York: Thames and Hudson, 2016). For a discussion of the identification of marror see Zohar Amar, Merrorim: Hameshet Minei haMarror sheAdam Yotseh Bahem Yedei Hovato bePesach (Modiin [], 2008).