Rabbi Yitzhak Hutner’s View of Torah Im Derekh Eretz and a Hidden Haskamah Rediscovered

Rabbi Yitzhak Hutner’s View of Torah Im Derekh Eretz and a Hidden Haskamah Rediscovered
Shmuel Lesher

Shmuel Lesher is the assistant rabbi of the BAYT (Toronto). He can be reached at shmuel.lesh@gmail.com

*Thanks to my father-in-law, Rabbi Hanan Balk, for sharing many of the works used to research this topic with me from his vast and eclectic personal library. Thank you to Rabbi Dr. Jacob J. Schacter, Rabbi Moshe Lieber, Rabbi Daniel Korobkin, Ezer Dienna, and Rabbi Ken Stollon for greatly improving this article. Thank you to Simmy Zieleniec for connecting me with the Levi family.

Rabbi Yitzhak Hutner: A Brief Biographical Sketch

R. Yitzhak Hutner (1906-1980), the longtime dean of Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin of Brooklyn, New York had a unique and eclectic approach to Torah, spirituality, and Orthodox society life in the 20th century. A student of the famed Lithuanian Rabbi Nosson Tzvi Finkel, the Alter (Elder) of Slabodka, and influenced by Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook, R. Hutner brought a blend of Hasidic and Lithuanian creative spirituality when he made his way to America. He shared his poetic and philosophical ideas with his students through his maamarim (discourses) which were later recorded, edited, and presented in his magnum opus Pahad Yitzhak (1964-1982).

Published biographical material about R. Hutner is sparse and scattered.[1] Even more difficult to come by are definitive statements of policies or positions made by R. Hutner. Therefore when determining his position on the question of the admissibility of a Torah Im Derekh Eretz curriculum, an educational program designed for the combined study of Torah and secular studies, one has to piece together bits and pieces of evidence in order to arrive at even an approximation of his view.

In one of the few biographical works on R. Hutner, R. Dr. Hillel Goldberg begins by citing an anonymous student’s recollection of R. Hutner saying, “Regardless of what you hear quoted in my name, do not believe it unless I have told it to you personally.”[2]

Ironic as this quotation may be, I understand why R. Goldberg chose it to begin his biographical sketch. The citation — however accurate or “believable” — captures the challenge the persona of R. Hutner poses to the genre of biography. It seems as though R. Hutner intentionally obscured his public position on a number of issues, preferring to share his outlook with his students and others personally.

The Yeshiva Community’s Approach to Secular Studies

To appreciate the nuances of R. Hutner’s position on Torah Im Derekh Eretz, it is important to understand the American Yeshiva community of which he was part. In his study of the early and mid-20th century American Yeshiva world, William Helmreich describes three basic approaches that American yeshivas took to secular studies.

On one hand, Yeshivas Rabbeinu Yitzchak Elchanan (RIETS), from its inception took a more open approach to secular studies. On the other extreme, yeshivas like Beth Midrash Gavoha of Lakewood, New Jersey and Telshe of Cleveland, Ohio completely forbade college attendance, notwithstanding that it is likely that many of their alumni did attend some level of advanced educational institution. A third group of yeshivas, including Ner Israel of Baltimore and Yeshivas Chofetz Chaim of New York landed somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. Although they discouraged college attendance, these yeshivas recognized that a college degree can be a necessary step for a yeshiva student to make a living. Because of this reality, many yeshivas took a more moderate stance on college attendance.[3]

It appears that Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin would most likely fit into the third category of yeshivas which discouraged college attendance but did not forbid it. R. Hutner, who had a powerfully personable and dominating personality, encouraged his students to devote themselves completely to Torah study. As one student put it:

I went to college and, while permitted, college was looked down upon. With some exceptions, the top fellows didn’t go. The strength of Rav Hutner’s personality-my feet trembled whenever I spoke to him-drew us all in. It enabled you to resist your more modern parents who often wanted you to go to college. He built up your ego and made you feel you were great.[4]

R. Hutner had a broader vision for the American Jewish community than just his own yeshiva’s success “It is only a matter of time,” R. Hutner commented to Shmuel Avigdor when asked in an interview in the 1960’s what he thought about the future of the American Jewish community he inhabited and helped create and foster. R. Hutner told Avigdor:

It is obvious that it will not be exactly the same as the European Judaism that existed before the Shoah. It will have its own unique character. It will have its own ‘kineitch’ (personality or character). But it will be a Judaism that is complete and authentic — A Judaism not embarrassed of our former generations. Even today we already have American-born avreikhim (married kollel fellows) who are gedolei torah (great Torah scholars) in the original and authentic sense of the word. It is true that their greatness in the Torah is currently measured by the greatness in the style of Poland and Lithuania and there is no ‘greatness’ in the American style yet. But this will come with time, it’s all a matter of time.[5]

The American Yeshiva community, in R. Hutner’s eyes, although it would be “American” with its own flavor and identity, must be modeled after the same idealism and single-minded focus on gadlus (greatness) in Torah that characterized the European community of the previous generations. In fact, Helmreich reports that R. Hutner was critical of Yeshiva University’s synthesis of Torah and secular studies, stating that “When they put the word ‘University’ in, they spoiled everything.”[6]

Notwithstanding the above evidence which suggests a less sympathetic view towards the combination of Torah and secular studies, R. Goldberg, one of R. Hutner’s biographers posits:

Rabbi Hutner rejected synthesis but not secular study, at least for a select few. The unexceptional Talmud student would be unable to cope with intellectual challenges to tradition that Western philosophy, historiography, and other branches of learning pose. For Rabbi Hutner himself, secular study was less central than for Rabbi Soloveitchik…To Rabbi Hutner’s unitive mind, secular study identified a domain of the sacred within itself, a procedure that amounted to Torah’s reclaiming what rightfully belonged to it; for Torah, said Rabbi Hutner, was the sovereign source of all that is sacred. Hence he saw neither a moral nor a technical justification for the citation of secular sources in his writings.[7] 

R. Goldberg’s depiction implies that R. Hutner did, in fact, have a good deal of sympathy for secular studies, albeit only for the select few. Clearly, the evidence for R. Hutner’s position is somewhat mixed. R. Hutner’s view on Torah Im Derekh Eretz and secular studies is characteristically nuanced and even appears at times to be contradictory.

The Primary Sources

Understanding this, in order to best determine R. Hutner’s true perspective, I thought it wise to focus not on secondary sources and analysis, but on R. Hutner himself, the choices he made for himself and for his community, and his own writings. In addition to many years of intensive and single-minded yeshiva study, R. Hutner chose to study at the University of Berlin. However, it is hard to evaluate this choice as indicative of a worldview as it was only a short 4-month stint.[8] Although it does indicate some level of interest in secular and/or academic knowledge and the granting of some legitimacy to its study, albeit not necessarily for the masses.

When it comes to communal policy it appears that R. Hutner did, at least initially, support the study of secular subjects at the high school level. In the biography of Rav Dr. Joseph Breuer, the authors write:

Both R. Moshe Feinstein- rosh yeshiva of Mesifta Tiferes Yerushalayim on the East Side – and R. Yitzchok Hutner – rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas Chaim Berlin in Brooklyn – had been a part of the planning process [in assisting Rav Breuer to open some form of a Torah Im Derekh Eretz Yeshiva High School for the Jewish community of New York].[9]

Because of opposition from other gedolim to the prospect of such a yeshiva high school, the school never actually got off the ground.[10] However, R. Hutner’s early support of a yeshiva high school that would have included a dual curriculum modeled after the Hirschian approach suggests a more sympathetic view of Torah Im Derekh Eretz.

R. Hutner not only supported the founding of a yeshiva high school with a dual curriculum, there is evidence that he even supported the founding of a form of yeshiva college. William Helmreich documents a fascinating development almost totally unknown today:

In 1946 a petition was submitted to the Regents of the University of the State of New York requesting a charter for a new institution to be known as the American Hebrew Theological University. The proposed college was to be formed by the merger of Yeshiva Torah Vodaath and Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin.[11]

The Board of Trustees of this institution included Rabbi Shraga Feivel Mendlowitz (1886-1948), the menahel (principal) of Yeshivas Torah Vodaath, and, none other than, Rabbi Yitzchok Hutner. As with the yeshiva high school, although Yeshiva Torah Vodaath and Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin were granted a provisional charter on July 18, 1946, about a year later the application was withdrawn and the college was never formed. 

It appears that the person responsible for this major reversal was Rabbi Aharon Kotler. According to Helmreich’s interview with Rabbi Harold Leiman,[12] then the principal of Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin high school and the person chosen as dean of this new college, after a long conversation between R. Shraga Feivel Mendlowitz and R. Aharon Kotler in which the latter expressed his strong opposition to the idea, the decision was made to abandon the project.[13]

Even though these schools never came to be, it appears from these accounts that R. Hutner did support the idea of founding a high school as well as a college founded upon the values of Torah Im Derekh Eretz. It is even clearer in the case of the proposed American Hebrew Theological University that R. Hutner was serious about the implementation of a dual-curriculum. The fact that a dean was selected and a formal request for a charter was submitted and granted indicates how far along in the process they were in bringing the school into existence even if they ultimately withdrew the application.

Evidence From R. Hutner’s Writings 

The other area to look for evidence regarding our question is R. Hutner’s writings, primarily his letters. In a well-known letter (no. 94) to a student struggling with his transition from yeshiva into the workforce, R. Hutner emphasizes the ideal of bringing Torah values into the outside world. In his words:

Someone who rents a room in one house to live a residential life and another room in a hotel to live a transient life is certainly someone who lives a double life. But someone who has a home with more than one room has a broad life, not a double life.[14]

Although this letter does not directly support the study of secular subjects, it is clear from the content of his message that R. Hutner sees his student’s involvement in the world outside of the yeshiva as a broadening of horizons and not merely a necessary evil. 

In another letter (no. 102) included in Igros Ukesavim, R. Hutner writes negatively about a certain kind of approach to a dual yeshiva curriculum (see below). First, R. Hutner praises a work he received, presumably written by his interlocutor. Afterwards, he refers to a particular passage in this work in which the author describes an ideal in which yeshiva students, in addition to many years of Torah study, engage in “yishuv” — agricultural work or the development of land. R. Hutner notes that this outlook of “Torah Umelakhah” — Torah study and work — appears to the [American] public as a “fifty-fifty” form of a dual curriculum and is completely the opposite of the vision of the author.[15] The thrust of the letter is that, in R. Hutner’s view, despite its popularity in the American Jewish Community, a dual curriculum is not an ideal for which to strive.[16]

Notwithstanding the skepticism found in the above letter, there is another significant piece of evidence that R. Hutner did in fact approve of the Torah Im Derekh Eretz approach. R. Hutner gave his own written endorsement of the ideal of Torah Im Derekh Eretz in the form of a haskamah — a formal rabbinic letter of approbation.

Yehuda (Leo) Levi’s Work and the Case of a Missing Haskamah

In the very first footnote of the very first article of The Torah Umadda Journal, effectively launching the entire publication, the editor, Rabbi Dr. Jacob J. Schacter, cites a letter written by R. Avraham Bloch. This letter, along with three other letters of European Gedolim regarding Torah Im Derekh Eretz was first published by Rabbi Prof. Yehuda (Leo) Levi. These letters were written in response to R. Shimon Schwab’s queries regarding the admissibility of a curriculum that included secular subjects in a yeshiva outside of Germany. R. Schacter writes that R. Bloch’s response was first published by R. Levi in 1966.[17][18]

In 1959, R. Levi wrote an earlier work, Vistas From Mount Moria, published by the Gur Ayeh Institute, the same institution that published Rav Hutner’s Pahad Yitzhak. It was his first published work on the topic of Torah and General Culture.[19] In the introduction to this book, the author makes reference to two endorsements, one of which, to my knowledge, has not yet been published.

In the introduction, R. Levi thanks “Rabbi Dr. Joseph Breuer” and “Rabbi Isaak Hutner” for their endorsements and constructive criticism. However, neither of these endorsements are printed in the volume but are said to be “available upon request.”

Almost 20 years later, R. Levi did include rabbinic endorsements for his work Shaarei Talmud Torah (1981). Endorsements are given by R. Yaakov Kaminetsky (Nissan 5740), R. Pinchas Menachem Alter of Gur (5740), R. Avraham Farbstein (5741), R. Aaron Soloveitchik (not dated), and R. Ovadiah Yosef (5747).[20]

Although both R. Breuer’s and R. Hutner’s endorsements of his other work are not included, R. Levi does write in his foreword to his 1990 work Torah Study (a translation of Shaarei Talmud Torah) that the Hebrew edition was published in 1981, when his “unforgettable mentor, HaRav Joseph Breuer, had explicitly expressed the wish that the author’s notes and essays be presented in a comprehensive and coordinated Sefer.” No mention of R. Hutner is made.[21][22]  

I thought the story ended there. But to my great surprise and joy, in the course of researching this topic, I was connected to Yosef Levi, a son of Yehuda Levi who graciously shared the missing haskamah with me which I include along with a translation below.

The following pages, 155-157 (below), include the haskamah given by R. Dr. Breuer and R. Hutner:

Translation of Rav Hutner’s Endorsement 

LETTER OF ENDORSEMENT

From the rabbi who is great in wisdom and fear [of heaven], the man to whom hidden things are revealed, my rabbi and teacher, Moreinu Harav Yitzhak Hutner, may his light shine, Rosh Mesivta Yeshivas Rabbi Chaim Berlin and Kollel Gur Aryeh  

20 Elul 5719

My dear, honorable, and beloved Mr. Yehuda the son of R. Yosef Aharon Halevi, may his light shine,

Peace and blessings,

I remember when I was younger, I once had the opportunity to be within the orbit of one of the elder gedolim of the previous generation. Our conversation led to a discussion about Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch zt”l. This gadol then told [me] what he had heard in the year 5630 (1869-1870) from one of the unique [people] of the generation before him. In that year of 5630, news of R. Hirsch and his activities had reached Russia. There were those who had concerns about his approach, because it appeared that the study of Torah had not gained a proper footing within his activities and his educational approach. However, these concerns were not accepted by the gedolei hador of those days. And despite these doubters (naysayers), an attitude of loyalty towards R. Hirsch was established and his approach was deemed akin to [spiritual] rescue from the fire. In relation to this, this gadol then expressed the following: “The clearest proof that the intentions of Rav Hirsch were for the sake of Heaven will be found in the near future, that the desire for Torah study in the soul of the next generation of Rav Hirsch’s community will increase, and many of them will attempt to acquire additional Torah beyond what was taught by of the community’s educational system.” So were the words of that gadol.

This gadol’s words were right on the mark because we can see with our [own] eyes that during the period between the two World Wars, many benches in the yeshivas in Eretz Yisrael, Hungary, Lithuania, Poland, and Galicia were filled with the descendants of R. Hirsch’s followers. 

These recollections come up out of my memory when I encounter you, my dear. In terms of ancestry, you descend from a well-pedigreed family of German Jewry (from the descendants of the Maharal).[23] Accordingly you received your education in the ways of the great teacher of this [form of] Judaism. Your gifts have made you famous in the field of physics to the point that you have caught the eye of the government, which, because of the times, is now in need of first-rate scientific resources. At the same time, the hopes of that righteous man (referred to above) have been fulfilled in you; your heart is deeply inspired to commit yourself to Torah study in order to quench the great fire that burns within your soul. To this end, you have limited “derekh eretz” pursuits to only that which is absolutely necessary, and have established a place for yourself in our Beis Medrash Gur Aryeh. Because you have accomplished the dictum, “Make your occupation incidental and your Torah study primary” (Avos 1:15) we have witnessed your ascent in Torah study with great success. 

However, even as you were planted in the Bais Medrash, you did not forget about those whose portions [in Torah] did not fall to them pleasantly, and who did not merit to be enhanced through entering into the tent of Torah. Because of your upbringing and background, you can sense the difference between the one whose perspective is from within the Temple courtyard and the one who is from a distance. When one drinks from the nearby springs and is able to place his lips to the flowing waters, the life essence of the water enters his very being and irrigates the “marrows of his bones.” His soul is renewed and his breath invigorated. 

Not so for the person who is sustained by the water of the spring from a distance. He has to use pipes and various vessels that draw from different kinds of vessels (Esther 1:7) in order to access the water. The nature of running water is that it loses its freshness  when it passes through the pipes. What’s more, by passing through pipes, the water picks up sediment and dirt on the way. 

We know well that large group of people who, despite being prepared to accept the yoke of Torah and mitzvos, nevertheless, fail to have the water penetrate them with their normal purity and freshness, due to the fact that their lives have positioned them at a distance from the wellspring. They can only draw water that is blocked, occluded, and which has other ingredients mixed in.

Therefore, when you felt the spiritual distress of this group, your spirit pushed you into being their helper and assistant. It is for this purpose that you wrote a survey of topics in the realm of hashkafos and deos (Torah outlooks and doctrines), in order to preserve, in some way, the purity of the water for those who find themselves far away from the springs.

When you gathered together these different essays into one pamphlet with the title, Vistas from Mount Moria, you gave it to me with the request for an endorsement — I deem it correct to grant your request because I think it serves a great purpose for people of the group mentioned above as well as many who occupy the Beis Hamedrash. 

Just as you have been successful in the study of Torah, so shall you be successful in the pillar of kindness to bring close those who are far and to reveal the beauty of the Torah which you have found in the Beis Hamedrash to those who are found to be still outside of it. 

With the hopes of raising the esteem of those who toil in Torah, 

Yitzhak Hutner[24]

See Appendix for a different version of Vistas From Mount Moria. Both were published in 1959 (see facsimiles of both editions below) Although, if you compare the same pages (154-157) beginning from the back of this book, you will find that there are exactly the same amount of pages between page 154 and the Hebrew title page, however, they are all blank. Note the publication and year appear to be the same as the original version but the endorsements of both Rabbi Dr. Joseph Breuer and Rabbi Yitzchok Hutner are removed. This supports Yosef Levi’s explanation as to why the haskamah was hidden as I will address below.

 

Analysis of the Endorsement

R. Hutner’s letter of endorsement can be divided into two sections. In the first part of the letter, R. Hutner grants legitimacy to R. Samson Raphael Hirsch’s educational approach. In the second part of the letter he focuses on his student R. Levi and the importance of his work.

In the first part of the letter, in typically cryptic form, R. Hutner does not quote the gedolim who he is citing as approving of the Hirschian method. However, he clearly sees this positive view of R. Hirsch and his Frankfurt Kehillah as the definitive view. In his opinion, the descendants of the Frankfurt community joining the yeshivas outside of Germany in between the two world wars as a sign of the authenticity of R. Hirsch’s approach of combining Torah and worldly knowledge. One might argue though, that this reveals R. Hutner not to be a staunch proponent of the Hirschian philosophy as he only sees its legitimacy based on the Yeshiva Community’s criterion or a “Torah Only” standpoint and not a viable independent approach. R. Hutner praises the Frankfurt educational model not on its own merits but because it produced yeshiva students who eventually made their way to “Torah Only” institutions outside of Frankfurt. 

Moreover, although R. Hutner grants legitimacy to R. Hirsch’s program and although he himself endeavored to create dual-curriculum institutions, it would be difficult to argue that he viewed Torah Im Derekh Eretz the same as did R. Hirsch. 

Dr. Shnayer Z. Leiman, in his “Rabbinic Openness to General Culture,” cites a number of passages from R. Hirsch’s writings proving that R. Hirsch believed in the intrinsic value of Torah Im Derekh Eretz as an ideal for which to strive.[25] One citation from R. Hirsch’s work will suffice:

Culture starts the work of educating the generations of mankind and the Torah completes it; for the Torah is the most finished education of Man…culture in the service of morality is the first stage of Man’s return to God. For us Jews, Derekh Eretz and Torah are one. The most perfect gentleman and the most perfect Jew, to the Jewish teaching, are identical. But in the general development of mankind culture comes earlier.[26]

R. Hutner, who rejected the synthesis of Yeshiva University, presumably would not subscribe to R. Hirsch’s formulation of “Derekh Eretz and Torah being one.” That being said, and notwithstanding R. Hutner’s use of an external assessment of the Hirschian approach, I still believe R. Hutner personal admiration for R. Hirsch as well as for R. Levi does come through in this letter. The nameless gadol from the previous generation he cites approvingly, clearly saw R. Hirsch’s opponents as incorrect and not how the “leaders” of the previous generations viewed the issue.

The second part of the letter expresses clearly his deep appreciation, pride, and personal interest in R. Levi whom he saw as a future “thought leader” on how to approach the issues of Torah engaging with science and general culture. R. Hutner shares his concern about a particular subset within the Jewish community who have erred in their understanding of Torah. R. Hutner believed that R. Levi, a true Torah scholar of the first degree, someone who had an intimate knowledge of Torah as well as a deep understanding of culture, was uniquely equipped for guiding this group in approaching the proper balanced synthesis of Torah and worldly values.

It is of great significance that although all identifying information was removed, much of the contents of the haskamah was in fact published in Igros Ukesavim as Letter no. 127. This shows that, in the view of the publishers of Igros Ukesavim, this letter belongs in the Pahad Yitzhak corpus, R. Hutner’s written legacy. To my mind, this indicates that the letter reflects R. Hutner’s authentic position regarding the value of secular studies and R. Hirsch’s approach.

The Story Behind The Haskamah and its Removal 

The question remains, why was R. Hutner’s haskamah pulled from some editions of Vistas From Mount Moria? Yosef Levi shared with me an excerpt of the text of his yet to be published biography of his father in which he records the story which I have paraphrased below:[27]

Before the book was published some copies were distributed. Apparently, R. Aharon Kotler received a copy because he approached R. Levi and told him that he should not publish the book because he found some of the passages in the book problematic. R. Levi responded that he would consult with his rabbis. Apparently, R. Kotler shared some written comments with R. Levi because Yosef Levi records that his father reviewed Rabbi Kotler’s comments and found that they concerned only two pages related to studying science. He then decided to go ahead with publishing the book after removing the two pages from the book that R. Kotler saw as problematic.

He then asked his two rabbis, R. Breuer and R. Hutner, whether he should proceed with this plan to publish the book without these pages. R. Breuer told him to continue to publish the book along with the two pages because in his view there was nothing wrong with them. However, R. Hutner, although he agreed with R. Breuer, asked R. Levi to remove his haskamah from the book. He felt the honor of R. Kotler, whom he saw as his Rebbi, demanded that he not publish his endorsement. R. Levi agreed and R. Hutner paid to have his haskamah removed from the book. The way that this book was printed, there were one thousand copies that were bound (which R. Hutner’s haskamah was removed from) and there were another thousand unbound copies that still had R. Hutner’s endorsement. R. Levi asked R. Hutner what he should do with those copies. R. Hutner told him not to remove his haskamah from them. “Ask me again when they are ready to be bound,” he told Levi. Once the first thousand copies were sold and they were ready to bind the second thousand, R. Kotler had already passed away. At this point, R. Hutner instructed Levi to bind the second batch of books with his endorsement. Later, R. Levi was told,[28] many people had called R. Hutner asking him to withdraw his endorsement from the book. With his characteristic wit, R. Hutner told the person who answered the phone (probably his daughter, Rebbetzin Bruriah Hutner-David) to tell these callers that he was unable to take their call as he was taking a course at New York State University.

Conclusion 

I believe the context of R. Hutner’s letter and its subsequent removal is of historical significance because it provides the student of history with a hitherto unknown understanding of R. Hutner’s nuanced view of Torah Im Derekh Eretz. It appears that although he supported and advocated for R. Levi bringing a Torah Im Derekh Eretz perspective to those “outside of the Bais Hamedrash,” he chose ultimately not to advocate for this approach formally for the larger American Jewish community. He decided not to publish his endorsement for R. Levi’s book and not to establish a yeshiva high school or college based on the principles of Torah Im Derekh Eretz. Why was R. Hutner’s public position so drastically different from his personal one?

First, and perhaps most significant of all, was R. Aharon Kotler’s role in both the abandonment of the dual-curriculum college as well as the removal of the haskamah should not be underestimated. It is likely that the power and force of R. Kotler’s personality and his Torah-stature prevented R. Hutner from even entertaining the possibility of deviating from his position. Once R. Kotler made his position known, R. Hutner, despite his own view being more amenable to secular studies, was compelled to comply out of his deep respect for R. Kotler, or simply because it would be impossible to succeed at the communal level without his support.

Second, I believe in order to appreciate R. Hutner, one has to understand that in addition to being a talmid hakham, innovative thinker and Rosh Yeshiva, he was a pragmatic leader with an eye towards communal policy. I believe the reason for his choices not to move forward with an American Yeshiva College and not to publish his haskamah has much to do with R. Hutner’s vision for the development of the post-war American Jewish community. 

R. Hutner fully believed in the success of a new American Yeshiva community even when it was not at all obvious it would succeed. In America, the Conservative and Reform movements were seen by many as the way of the future. However, R. Hutner remained determined to create a strong and vibrant American Yeshiva community fully dedicated to greatness in Torah and mitzvos.[29] Although it would be an “American” Judaism, different from the European world from which he emerged, it would not be founded upon compromises. I believe this lay at the heart of R. Hutner’s ultimate opposition to a formal synthesis of Torah and secular studies. In R. Hutner’s mind, for the fledgling American Yeshiva community, a dual curriculum would be seen more as a compromise than an ideal.

As historian Zev Eleff has noted, much of the ideological battles in the American Orthodox community during the post-war years can be seen as a debate over what was “authentic Orthodoxy.” R. Hutner was determined to ensure that the newly forged post-war American Jewish community would be an authentic Judaism devoid of compromises. It is likely that in R. Hutner’s view, R. Hirsch’s program of Torah Im Derekh Eretz, although an admirable one, was perceived as more of a balancing act. Just as it was a legitimate and valiant attempt in Frankfurt to bridge the world of the Yeshiva and the outside world, so too in America, it was valuable for those “outside the walls of the Beis Hamidrash.” However, R. Hutner, not just a Rosh Yeshiva but a communal visionary, believed that in order to shape the future of the American Yeshiva community and achieve the creation of an “authentic Orthodoxy,”[30] the face of the community had to be authentically and exclusively Torah-based. If this is correct, unlike R. Ahron Kotler, R. Hutner’s endorsement of a “Torah-only” approach was less of his own personal view and more of a pragmatic vision of what he assessed would effectively capture the hearts and minds of the American Jewish community. 

It appears that history has come out in favor of this vision. Against all odds and all critics, the American Yeshiva community has continued to grow by leaps and bounds beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Although the Jewish community is currently in a new era, with its own set of challenges and opportunities, the early growth of the Yeshiva community was vital for American Orthodoxy’s success. Although not a direct heir to the Hirschian Frankfurt educational model, the American Orthodox community has certainly benefited from yeshivas that embraced a dual curriculum model as well. As the American Orthodox Jewish community grew in the 20th century against all odds and predictions, it became clear that in the new world of America, more than one approach can prosper. 

Appendix

[1] For biographical information on R. Hutner see R. Dr. Hillel Goldberg, Between Berlin and Slobodka: Jewish Transition Figures From Eastern Europe (Ktav, 1989), pp. 63-87; “Zikhronos,” in R. Yosef Buxbaum (ed.) Sefer Hazikaron Limaran Baal Pahad Yitzhak (Gur Aryeh Institute for Advanced Jewish Scholarship, 1984), pp. 3-66 translated with additions by Rebbitzen Bruriah David and R. Shmuel Kirzner (ed.) An Inner Life: Perspectives on the Legacy of HaRav Yitzchok Hutner zt”l (Gur Aryeh Institute for Advanced Jewish Scholarship, 2024); Yaakov Elman, “Rav Yitzchok Hutner and the Meaning of Hanukkah,” Tablet (December 4, 2015). In Hebrew see Alon Shalev, “Orthodox Theology in the Age of Meaning: The Life and Works of Rabbi Isaac Hutner (Hebrew University Doctoral Dissertation, 2021); Uriel Benar, “Hatifaso shel harav Yitzhak Hutner Vishahruro,” Hamayan Gilyon 61:2, Tevet 5781(Machon Shelomo/Yeshivat Shalavim), pp. 31-47; Shlomo Kiserer, “Hateshuva Bihaguto Shel Harav Yitzhak Hutner,” (Bar Ilan University Doctoral Dissertation, 2008); Yisrael Besser, “Hamahapkhan,” Mishpacha (17 Kislev 5781).

Notwithstanding these works, generally, there has been little biographical material published on R. Hutner. Some may suggest the reason for this is R. Hutner’s general disapproval of biographies. R. Dovid Bashevkin notes in his “Letters of Love and Rebuke From Rav Yitzchok Hutner,” Tablet (October 9, 2016), that R. Hutner laments the often hagiographic nature of rabbinic biographies in an often quoted letter in Pahad Yitzhak, Igros Ukesavim, Letter no. 128 (Gur Aryeh Institute for Advanced Jewish Scholarship, 1981). However, there is evidence that R. Hutner did in fact greatly appreciate the genre of “gedolim biographies.” Zikhronos, p. 88 states, “[R. Hutner] chose [to study] not only complete periodical history, he also [studied] biographical works of the gedolim of the generations.” (translation is my own).

For more on R. Hutner’s groundbreaking work see Steven S. Schwarzschild, “An Introduction to the Thought of R. Isaac Hutner,” Modern Judaism 5:3 (1985), pp. 235-277; R. Dr. Hillel Goldberg, “Rabbi Isaac Hutner: A Synoptic Interpretive Biography,” Tradition 22 (Winter 1987), pp. 18-46; R. Dr. Yaakov Elman, “Autonomy And Its Discontents: A Meditation On Pahad Yitshak,” Tradition 47.2 (Summer 2014), pp. 7-40.
[2]
Between Berlin, p. 63.
[3]
William Helmreich, The World of the Yeshiva: An Intimate Portrait of Orthodox Jewry (Free Press, 1982), pp. 220-224.
[4]
Ibid., p. 35.
[5]
 Shmuel Avigdor, Mipihem Shel Raboseinu (Bnei Brak, 2007), pp. 458-459. [Hebrew]. The interviews were conducted on 15 Kislev 5725 and 23 Shevat 5727. Translation is my own.
[6]
 Helmreich, p. 234. Interview conducted on July 9, 1978. It can be noted that although the students at Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin did have secular coursework as part of their high school curriculum, when R. Hutner had the opportunity to found his own yeshiva in Jerusalem, Israel, Yeshivas Pahad Yitzhak, to my knowledge, he never implemented any form of secular studies into the students’ curriculum. However, this may not be completely indicative of R. Hutner’s worldview as much as a practical consideration. The implementation of a dual curriculum in Eretz Yisrael was historically more contentious than in the United States. For example see Yaacov Lupu, “Haredi Opposition to Haredi High-School Yeshivas,” The Floersheimer Institute For Policy Studies (2007) [Hebrew] and Christhard Hoffmann and Daniel R. Schwartz, “Early but Opposed — Supported but Late: Two Berlin Seminaries which Attempted to Move Abroad,” Leo Baeck Institute Year Book, 36 (1991), pp. 267-283.

It should be noted that of late, things are beginning to change on that front. See for example the work of Rabbi Yehoshua Pfeffer of the Iyun Institute (Herut Israel Liberty Center) and Rabbi Karmi Gross, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Derech Chaim to foster greater Haredi involvement in Israeli society which includes more openness to secular studies in Haredi yeshivas.
[7]
Between Berlin, p. 78.
[8]
 Ibid., p. 65.
[9]
 Dr. David Kranzler and R. Dovid Landseman, Rav Breuer: His Life and His Legacy (Feldheim, 1998), p. 135.
[10]
 The authors (Ibid.) note that R. Mendel Zaks and R. Aharon Kotler were opposed to the founding of the school.
[11]
 Helmreich, pp. 46-47. According to the charter application (Petition for American Theological University, pp. 1-10, prepared for The Regents of the University of the State of New York on March 30, 1946) the school would offer a basic liberal arts program “equal to that of other junior colleges chartered by the Regents. The petition also proposed to establish a number of graduate schools, for which a B.A. would be required.
[12] Dr. Shnayer Z. Leiman’s father.
[13] Helmreich, p. 50.
[14]
Pahad Yitzhak, Igros Ukesavim, Letter no. 94. Translation adapted from R. Dovid Bashevkin, “Letters of Love and Rebuke.”
[15]
 It should be noted that here R. Hutner uses the term “Torah Umelakhah” to describe a combination of Torah study and other occupations. This term connotes engagement with the secular from a more pragmatic and practical perspective.
[16]
Although the recipient of this letter is not named (as is the case with all of R. Hutner’s responsa in Igros Ukesavim), according to R. Moshe Lieber, it is R. Michoel Ber Weissmandl and the work, which was removed from the letter, was his Min Hameitzar.

Clear proof of this can be seen in Sefer Zikaron (p. 44) which makes explicit reference to a letter R. Hutner wrote to R. Weissmandl. Personal correspondence with Rabbi Moshe Lieber (May-June 2021). For more on R. Weissmandl and his historical role in rescuing Jews from the Holocaust see Avraham Fuchs, Karasi V’Ein Oneh (Jerusalem, 1983) translated in The Unheeded Cry (Artscroll/Mesorah, 1984).
[17]
 See Yehuda (Leo) Levi, “An Unpublished Responsum on Secular Studies,” Proceedings of the Association of Orthodox Jewish Scientists 1, pp. 106-112. These four responsa were reprinted by Levi in his “Shetei Teshuvos Al Limud chokhmos chizoniyos,” Ha-Ma’ayan 16:3 (1976), pp. 11-16, and in his Sha’arei Talmud Torah (Jerusalem, 1981), pp. 296-301 and in Ha-Pardes 64:8 (May 1990): pp. 9-12. For more see Jacob J. Schacter, “Torah u-Madda Revisited: The Editor’s Introduction,” The Torah Umadda Journal 1 (1989): pp. 1-2, and nn 1-3.
[18]
There are some discrepancies between the different publications of these letters. See Marc B. Shapiro, Between The Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy: The Life and Works of Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg (Littman Library, 1999), p. 152n77; Yehuda (Leo) Levi, “Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch-Myth and Fact,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, Vol. 31, no. 3 (Spring 1997), 11; Marc B. Shapiro, “Torah im Derekh Erez in the Shadow of Hitler,” Torah Umadda Journal, Vol. 14, (2006-2007), pp. 85-86,95; my “Hirschian Humanism after the Holocaust,” Seforim Blog (April 2021), footnote 15.
[19]
 In this work, he refers to some of these gedolim’s statements although without noting the context in which these statements were made. It is unclear if the author was aware of the backstory of these letters at the time he published this work in 1959. See Leo Levi, Vistas From Mount Moria: A Scientist Views Judaism and the World (Gur Aryeh Institute for Advanced Jewish Scholarship, 1959), p. 94.
[20]
Haskamos are available here:

על הספר שערי תלמוד תורה לר”י לוי <פתיחות לדעות שונות> – פורום אוצר החכמה (otzar.org). There appears to be some changes made to R. Pinchas Menachem Alter’s haskamah. See below for the original which shows clearly that some text was removed from the printed version.
על הספר שערי תלמוד תורה לר”י לוי <פתיחות לדעות שונות> – פורום אוצר החכמה (otzar.org).

To explain these discrepancies, Yossi Levi (Personal correspondence, May 6, 2024) shared with me that in Yehuda Levi’s (father) archive there exists a correspondence between his father and R. Alter in which R. Alter accepts R. Levi’s comment that his position is more clearly reflected in haskamah that was printed and not the initial written version.
[21]
Yehuda Levi, Torah Study: A Survey of Classic Sources on Timely Issues (Feldheim, 1990), p. xxix. This is not the first time R. Hutner was associated with a missing haskamah. See R. Eitam Henkin, “Eiduto shel Harav Hutner Odot Harayah Kook Vihauniversitah Haivrit,” Hamayan 53:3 (Nisan 5773), pp. 61-69 translated in R. Eitam Henkin, Studies in Halakhah and Rabbinic History, (Maggid, 2021) p. 316n16 who notes that Toras Hanazir, R. Hutner’s first work printed in 1936, was subsequently published a number of times missing the haskamah of R. Avraham Yitzhak Kook.
[22]
 Although he did not write a haskamah which appears in the book, R. Shimon Schwab wrote a very positive review of Shaarei Talmud Torah in which he states it is “a most remarkable work, to say the least. It combines erudition, scholarship, and great reverence for Torah and Gedoley Torah… It would be a great service to the English-speaking public to have this Sefer translated as soon as possible. See R. Shimon Schwab, Mitteilungen (Tishri/Kislev 5743), adapted from the back cover of Torah Study.
[23]
The Levi family has an oral tradition of descendancy from the Maharal (Personal Correspondence, Yosef Levi, July 15, 2024).
[24]
Yosef Levi believes that the name was penciled in by his father although a signature was clearly meant to be there. This claim is supported by the correction made in pencil (again, presumably made by the author) to R. Breuer’s haskamah.
[25]
 Shnayer Z. Leiman, “Rabbinic Openness to General Culture,” in Jacob J. Schacter, ed., Judaism’s Encounter with Other Cultures – Rejection or Integration? (Maggid, 2017), pp. 234-248.
[26] R.
Samson Raphael Hirsch, The Pentateuch, Genesis 3:24.
[27] Yosef Levi (Email correspondence, May 6, 2024).
[28]
Yosef Levi shared that he was told this by his father.
[29] See his “Our Attitude Toward Public Opinion,” Jewish Observer 6 (March 1970): 11-13 where he advocates for a confident “Torah-conscious Jew” who rises above the sway of public opinion.[30] Zev Eleff, Authentically Orthodox (Wayne State University Press, 2020).




R. Yudel Rosenberg, R. Mordechai Elefant, and Sexual

R. Yudel Rosenberg, R. Mordechai Elefant, and Sexual Abuse

Marc B. Shapiro

1. Many readers of the Seforim Blog are aware of R. Yudel Rosenberg, the fascinating talmid chacham and posek who for some reason was also drawn to forgeries. Ira Robinson has recently authored a complete biography of Rosenberg, A Kabbalist in Montreal: The Life and Times of Rabbi Yudel Rosenberg. This wonderful book is certainly deserving of a complete review on the Seforim Blog, but here I would just like to comment on a criticism of me.

On p. 219 Robinson discusses the letter of R. Hayyim Hezekiah Medini that Rosenberg included in his Sha’arei Zohar Torah.

The letter of Rabbi Medini as published by Yudel Rosenberg has been challenged as a forgery by Rabbi Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, David Zvi Hillman, and Marc B. Shapiro on the grounds that some linguistic elements of the letter are foreign to Rabbi Medini’s style and may well have come from the pen of Rabbi Rosenberg.

In the note to this passage, Robinson refers to my Seforim Blog post here, where in addition to mentioning the points made by R. Sofer,[1] I write:

Let me also add that the way Medini (=Rosenberg) concludes the forged haskamah is not like any of his other letters, which are included in Iggerot Sedei Hemed (Bnei Brak, 2006). In the authentic letters, before his name Medini always adds הצב”י or הצעיר, which he does not do in the forged haskamah. In his authentic letters, he also never closes them by adding to his name רב ומו”ץ בעיר הקדש חברון. Therefore, there can be no doubt that the letter of approbation sent by Medini to Rosenberg is simply another one of the latter’s forgeries.

Robinson states (p. 219 n. 25):

On one of his points Shapiro is mistaken. He wrote in his blog: “In the authentic letters, before his name Medini always adds ha-tsa’ir, which he does not do in the forged haskamah.” In Yudel Rosenberg’s work, the Medini letter does close with yedido ha-tsair.

Here is the haskamah, and indeed Robinson is correct that הצעיר appears. I can’t explain why I wrote otherwise.[2]

Since we are discussing the forged haskamah, let me add two additional points relating to the final lines. I looked through all the letters in Iggerot Sedei Hemed and in none of them does this expression appear:

כנפשו הטהורה וכנפש ידידו

Furthermore, R. Medini always adds היו or less commonly סט after his name. Both of these are missing here.

While on the topic of forgeries, let me mention something else. In my post here I deal with the notorious forger, Chaim Bloch. One of the forgeries I mention is his creation of an alternate version of שפוך חמתך in the Passover Haggadah. In Bloch’s forgery, instead of “Pour out Your rage upon the nations that do not know You,” followed by more lines beseeching God to destroy the wicked ones, a more universalist formulation is found that begins with שפוך אהבתך. This forgery, which Bloch claims is from a 1561 Worms manuscript, reads as follows:

Pour out Your love on the nations who have known You and on the kingdoms who call upon Your name. For they show loving-kindness to the seed of Jacob, and they defend Your people Israel from those Who would devour them alive. May they live to see the sukkah of peace spread over Your chosen ones, and to participate in the joy of Your nations.

This translation is taken from R. Jonathan Sacks’ Haggadah (The Applebaum Edition), p. 120. Unfortunately, Sacks did not know about the history of Bloch and thought he was dealing with an authentic text. Sacks introduces the phony prayer as follows:

In one manuscript from Worms, 1521, there is a unique addition to the Haggada alongside “Pour out Your rage.” It is a prayer of thanks for the righteous gentiles throughout history who, rather than persecuting Jews, befriended them and protected them at times of danger.

3. Readers of the Seforim Blog might recall that on a few occasions I cited passages from the memoir of the late R. Mordechai Elefant, Rosh Yeshiva of Itri and builder of a vast Torah empire. These were the first times that passages from the memoir that he dictated appeared in print. I was then one of the few people who had a copy of the memoir, and a number of readers can attest that I did not agree to share it with them because I did not have permission from the person who gave it to me. Subsequently, Mishpacha got a copy of it and published some selected (and “touched up”) portions.[3]

In September 2019, R. Pini Dunner[4] published the memoir and you can view it here (Although this site says May 1, 2013, in reality Dunner only uploaded it in 2019.)

Dunner writes:

Rabbi Elefant’s candid memoirs are startling, not just because they reveal much that one would hardly have expected from a top-tier Rosh Yeshiva, but even more because of the very frank revelations he willingly shared regarding the background to his extraordinary life.

I distinctly recall his many sardonic observations about life and people; he was a true iconoclast who had clearly never read the memo about how senior public servants should express themselves, and particularly rabbis. At the same time, he was an extraordinary scholar, who could lecture on any Talmudic topic, without prior warning, to discerning peers and students, dazzling them with both his vast knowledge and his keen intellect.

Those who examine the Elefant memoir will come away shocked that the author was a leading rosh yeshiva. R. Aharon Rakeffet’s response after completing the memoir was that R. Elefant was “fifty percent gadol, fifty percent gangster.”[5] One thing is sure: R. Elefant was one of the most fascinating Torah scholars in recent memory, and there really was no one like him.

Anyone who reads the memoir must wonder why R. Elefant would have wanted himself to be remembered in the way the memoir describes. Certainly, no one whose only exposure to R. Elefant is through his Torah works could imagine the author’s colorful life. In fact, in R. Elefant’s posthumously published Mi-Zahav Mordechai he is described on the title page as שר התורה הגאון האמיתי.

R. Elefant was obviously an unusual person, and as with other writers of memoirs in rabbinic history (e.g., R. Leon Modena, R. Jacob Emden, R. Elijah David Rabinowitz-Teomim), he was an independent thinker who did not believe in following the herd. R. Elefant, as with all memoir writers, wanted us to learn about his experiences and views, things we would not know about if we only looked at his yeshiva persona.

I asked R. Nathan Kamenetsky about R. Elefant after I read the memoir, and I gave R. Kamenetsky a copy of it. (R. Kamenetsky worked closely with R. Elefant in Itri). But I did not know R. Elefant, so anything I suggest will be speculation.

When I finished reading the memoir, and was wondering why R. Elefant would want all this unusual information made public, I thought of two possible reasons. The first is pride, to show that one can be a talmudic scholar—and R. Elefant was an authentically great one—and at the same time be “with it”, that is, to be able to travel around the world and have relationships with all sorts of unusual people. Looking at matters this way, the memoir can perhaps be seen as subversive, in that although R. Elefant lived in one world, and had great respect for the rabbis of that world, he also happily lived in another world and wanted to show people how he did it.

The other possibility I thought of is that R. Elefant actually felt guilty about how he lived his life, and the memoir was his way of making matters right, as it were. He was a rosh yeshiva and was therefore given great respect. He was also close to a number of gedolei Yisrael. Perhaps R. Elefant felt uncomfortable in his role, where he was regarded as a שר התורה and a גאון אמיתי, since unlike the other roshei yeshiva and gedolim, his life was not one of “only Torah.” Is it possible that R. Elefant was putting it all out there to set the record straight, that is, to let people know who he really was, because in the end he felt guilty that he was placed in the same category as other roshei yeshiva? Could it be that R. Elefant, who had so many interests and couldn’t be happy spending his life entirely in the beit midrash, felt guilty being compared to the roshei yeshiva and gedolim whose entire lives were focused only on Torah study and spiritual improvement? I can’t help but think that if R. Elefant had children, and was busy raising them, he wouldn’t have had his wanderlust and need for adventure.

R. Elefant himself tells us that in addition to his “lamdan side,” he also has a “shaygetz (irreligious) side” (p. 40). I cannot imagine any other rosh yeshiva saying such a thing about himself. R. Elefant’s “shaygetz side” was not something that most would have known about had he not revealed it, and it is this side of him that people have found shocking. Obviously, R. Elefant knew they would find it shocking, yet he still wished to make it public. My sense is that he was a man of truth, and did not want to pretend. He wanted people to know what he was about, with all of his complexity.

I think it is very telling that after mentioning his “shaygetz side,” R. Elefant adds, “Thank G-d that side of me didn’t manifest itself in my students.” This line shows that, at the end of the day, R. Elefant was not very proud of this side of him, which I think lends credence to my suggestion that the memoir was his way of setting the record straight so that the world not think of him as someone he was not. (A close student of R. Elefant told me he liked this suggestion.) Also noteworthy is that right at the beginning of the memoir, R. Elefant states: “But I don’t kid myself. I know I’m not a spiritual model for my students, nor do I ever make out that I am.” 

Even if I am wrong in discerning R. Elefant’s ultimate motivation, memoirs by their nature provoke thoughts in the reader, and the two suggestions I mention are what the memoir brought to my mind.

There are those who knew R. Elefant who believe that one must distinguish between his younger days, when he was completely engrossed in Torah study, and later in life when he realized that he had a knack for raising money. It was then that he started traveling the world and hanging out with celebrities, politicians, and other colorful characters. Some will regard this as a limud zekhut for the entire bizarre and eye-opening memoir. Others will probably say that while R. Elefant raised a lot of money and built a Torah empire, the toll it took on him, as seen in how he chose to portray himself in his own memoir, shows that it was not worth it.

The copy of the memoir that Dunner placed online has become internationally famous, and you have to love the title he gave it: “An Elephant Never Forgets”. Yet Dunner’s copy is missing the first page, so let me provide it now.

In Dunner’s copy the handwriting on p. 59 can’t be read. Here are pages 58-59 from my copy so you can see the passage in its entirety.

The first thing to note is that R. Elefant’s claim that Saul Lieberman felt that he should have been made chief rabbi, and because he didn’t get this he went to JTS, is completely mistaken (as is much else in the memoir). R. Kook died in 1935 when Lieberman was 37 years old. At that young age he certainly never had any thoughts of becoming chief rabbi. The language “first chief rabbi of Israel” also doesn’t make any sense, as Lieberman left Israel for JTS when it was still Palestine.

Lieberman was actually a big supporter of his friend R. Isaac Herzog’s candidacy for the Chief Rabbinate. (Even when he was in Ireland, R. Herzog was a member of the advisory board of the Harry Fischel Institute which Lieberman headed at the time of R. Kook’s death.[6]) Chaim Herzog writes that his grandfather, R. Samuel Isaac Hillman, and Lieberman “organized a small campaign staff” to support R. Herzog’s election.[7] When R. Herzog was chosen, Lieberman was one of the signatories on the document proclaiming him Chief Rabbi. (I thank the late R. Eitam Henkin for sending me this.)[8]

R. Elefant then refers to R. Avraham Yisrael Moshe Solomon as a noted talmid chacham. Yet he was never a rav in Shanghai and he was not the father of Rabbi Baruch Shimon Solomon of Petah Tikvah. The story dealing with R. Kook, which is a famous one, is also mixed up. What was said to the Brisker Rav—and there are different versions concerning who said it—is that in R. Kook’s eyes all Jews are like family, and that is why he is so friendly with them. The version R. Elefant offers makes no sense, as R. Solomon’s comment to the Brisker Rav does not follow from what the Brisker Rav told him. In the note on the left side of the page, someone added [9]: “By R’ Kook every Yid is מבשרך אל תשעלם.

The story at the bottom of the second page is unfortunate and does not make R. Elefant look good, as we see that he did not know of the view that one can cook in a keli sheni. This was obviously what Lieberman held, and this was also the view of R. Chaim Soloveitchik and R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik. R. Hershel Schachter writes as follows in Nefesh ha-Rav, p. 170:

במשנה ברורה (סי‘ שיח סק לטהביא דעת כמה מן האחרונים להחמיר שלא לעשות תהאפילו בכלי שניורבנו אמר בזה הלשון – שהסבא שלו היה מדקדק במצוותוהיה משתמש בשקיות תה בכלי שניואף הוא היה נוהג אחריו להקל בזה גכ

The story is also unfortunate as all R. Elefant had to do was ask Lieberman why he was using the tea bag in a keli sheni, and he would have been given the answer. Although one can criticize Lieberman’s association with the Jewish Theological Seminary, it is not every day that one is in the presence of someone with indescribable knowledge of Bavli, Yerushalmi, Tosefta, and Midrash. I would have assumed that R. Elefant would have taken advantage of the time he was with Lieberman for something more constructive than rebuking him.

4. In his recent Seforim Blog post here, Edward Reichman mentions R. Judah Messer Leon and his book Nofet Tzufim which was published in 1475. He also mentions that Nofet Tzufim was the answer to one of my earlier quizzes, where I asked what was the first Hebrew book published in the lifetime of its author. See here. In his post, Reichman discusses another fascinating book, R. Abraham Portaleone’s Shiltei ha-Giborim (Mantua, 1612 [Reichman mistakenly gives the date as 1607]). This book also has the honor of being “a first,” for it was the first Hebrew book to use European punctuation, including the question mark.[10]

5. The Chaim Walder affair has once again brought the issue of sexual abuse to the limelight. It also looks like the fallout from this event, unlike earlier scandals, will have a real impact in the haredi world, as many rabbis really are taking the issue seriously. What is needed is a scholarly study of how rabbis over the years have responded to the issue of sexual abuse. I am not referring to a work designed to condemn the rabbis for not doing enough, but to an academic study that would show how responses have changed over the years, how some rabbis took the matter seriously and other did not, and how with more understanding of the effects of sexual abuse rabbinic attitudes began to change.

One example of the sort of sources that would be used in such a study is R. Elijah Rabinowitz-Teomim (Aderet), Ma’aneh Eliyahu, no. 32. The Aderet deals with a case where a girl was raped by two young Jewish men. Her family wanted to report this to the police so that the rapists would receive a fitting punishment. However, the Aderet tells us that he convinced the family not to make a public issue of the matter, so as to prevent a hillul ha-shem, and to avoid confrontation with dangerous people.

דברתי אל לבם להשקיט הדברלבל יתחלל שם ישראל בעמים מהפקרות ופריצות צעירי הנעריםלאנוס ולנאוף ולחלל שבת ולרצוחוגם יש סכנה בדבר לריב עם עזי פנים כמותםושמעו אלי

The first reason, avoidance of hillul ha-shem, certainly remains a significant factor today in the desire to keep matters of sexual abuse from being publicly aired.

Another relevant ruling, which shows how matters were handled in the past by a truly great figure, is found in R. Menachem Mendel Schneersohn (the third Lubavitcher Rebbe), Tzemah Tzedek, Yoreh Deah, no. 237. R. Schneersohn was asked the following question: A rabbi was playing with a נער on Purim and stuck his hands into the pants of the youth. The rabbi claimed that he did so because he (the rabbi) was unable to perform sexually. He thought that this was due to his small testicles, and he wanted to see if he was unusual in this regard. In other words, the rabbi was conducting a medical examination on the youth, and one can only wonder how many other boys were also subjected to this rabbi’s examinations. R. Schneersohn decided that the rabbi should not be removed from his position, as he provided a good explanation for his behavior.

What we see from these responsa (and others can be mentioned) is how much attitudes have changed in modern times. Our response would be very different than that of the Tzemach Tzedek, and I think we all would find the “justification” the abusive rabbi offered to be ludicrous, but that is only because we have been exposed to many things, including crimes perpetrated by trusted religious figures, that people in the Tzemach Tzedek’s day could never have imagined.[10]

6. As this post has discussed forgeries, I must call attention to a bombshell new book with wide-ranging implications by R. Moshe Hillel. It is titled חזון טברימון and makes a strong case that R. Yaakov Moshe Toledano created many forged documents. Often we think of forgers as shady characters, however R. Toledano was a respected rav who held a number of important positions, including Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv. In the election for Sephardic Chief Rabbi of the State of Israel, he lost to R. Isaac Nissim. R. Toledano was also a posek who authored the responsa volume Yam ha-Gadol.

It is beyond depressing to think that such a distinguished person could have been responsible for numerous forgeries. If Hillel’s claim is found to be accurate, a good of deal of scholarship, which relies on documents published by Toledano, has to be thrown out. This is every scholar’s nightmare, that the conclusions he or she reaches are based on fraudulent information.

Hillel also argues that the location of R. Moses Hayyim Luzzatto’s grave in Tiberias, which has become a popular pilgrimage site, is an invention of R. Toledano who created a phony “tradition”. For some initial discussion of Hillel’s book, see here where you can also download the book. Those interesting in purchasing a copy should contact Eliezer Brodt.

7. This summer my Torah in Motion trips resume. You can find information about them here.

8. For those interested in my Iggerot Malkhei Rabbanan, copies are still available at Mizrahi Book Store here.

9. Some years ago, I discovered at the University of Scranton a VHS tape of a 1985 lecture from Prof. Isadore Twersky. (I had already known of this lecture, as when I arrived in Scranton one of my colleagues mentioned to me how unusual it was that Twersky sat for his presentation.) I turned the VHS into a DVD, and a few weeks ago I had the tech people at Scranton turn it into a digital file and upload it to the University of Scranton’s YouTube channel. You can see the video here. This is the only video of a Twersky lecture to be found on the internet, and I am sorry that the sound is not so good. I don’t know whose idea it was to set up an Israeli flag next to Twersky as he spoke. If you look at the beginning of the video you can see that Twersky was actually sitting right in front of a cross, so maybe someone thought that a Jewish star was also needed. I know of only one other video where you can hear Twersky speaking, and that is found here where he introduces Chaim Grade.

Quiz

1. In section 4 I mentioned some bibliographical firsts, so for a quiz question I ask the following: Which Hebrew book was the first one to use footnotes (and the footnotes even used Arabic numerals)?

2. For those who would like a different sort of quiz question: Soon it will be Pesach, so please point to a halakhah on Pesach that the Shulhan Arukh decides in accord with the Rosh, while the Rama records the practice in accord with the Rambam and the Rif.

Answers should be sent to me at shapirom2 at scranton.edu 

***********

[1] I did not refer to R. David Zvi Hillman’s letter which appears in Etz Hayyim 10 (5770), p. 379.
[2] As mentioned, Robinson’s book deserves an extensive review, but here is one bibliographical point. On pp. 134ff., Robinson discusses R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach’s correspondence with Rosenberg concerning the halakhic status of electricity. Robinson states that R. Auerbach’s Jan. 8, 1935 letter that strongly criticizes Rosenberg’s approach is unpublished. Yet the letter actually appears in R. Auerbach’s Meorei Esh ha-Shalem (Jerusalem, 5770), pp. 368ff.
[3] Mishpacha, Dec. 18, 2013.
[4] See here. Even before Dunner published the memoir, his copy was circulating and was placed online in June 2019. See here.
[5] Listen here at minute 72.
[6] See Sefer ha-Yovel for Harry Fischel (Jerusalem, 1935), Hebrew section, pp. 11, 20, English section, p. 8.
[7] Chaim Herzog, Living History (New York, 1996), p. 28 (called to my attention by Rabbi Jacob Yellin). According to Chaim Herzog, Lieberman would become his parents’ closest friend. See Elijah J. Schochet and Solomon Spiro, Saul Lieberman: The Man and His Work (New York, 2005), p. 52.
[8] In 1935 R. Herzog was a candidate for the chief rabbinate of Tel Aviv. The other candidates were R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik and R. Moshe Avigdor Amiel. It is of interest that the Hazon Ish supported R. Herzog’s candidacy. See Dov Eliach, Be-Sod Siah (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 258-259. One might have expected R. Meir Berlin (Bar-Ilan), the great Mizrachi leader (and Lieberman’s father-in-law), to have supported R. Herzog or R. Amiel as they were both leading figures in Mizrachi, while R. Soloveitchik had no Mizrachi connections at this time. Yet because of his familial connection to R. Soloveitchik, Berlin put his support behind him. In a Nov. 10, 1935, letter from R. Herzog to Lieberman, R. Herzog writes as follows regarding the lack of support from Berlin, whom he calls מנהיגנו הנערץ והאהוב:

 

אין בלבי שום תרעומות עליו כי סוף סוף הרב הנל הוא קרובו ובל תדין את חבירך וכו‘, ועוד כי בודאי עשה מה שעשה בלב שלם וטהור מתוך הכרתו הפנימית

You can see the letter here where a number of letters from the Lieberman archive have been uploaded. The source of these letters is not indicated, which means that they were not uploaded in accordance with the regulations of the Jewish Theological Seminary Library.
[9] תשעלם should be written תתעלם, and the passage comes from Isaiah 58:7. The verse actually has לא instead of אל. Yet a number of early rabbinic sources cite the verse with the word אל, so this was probably found in their texts. Indeed, critical editions of the book of Isaiah (Kittel, C.D. Ginsburg) report that many manuscripts have אל. Yet it is interesting that even though the verse appears with לא in every Tanakh printed today, rabbinic authors continue to cite the verse with אל. In fact, the Tolna Rebbe makes a big deal about how the first letters of מבשרך אל תתעלם spell אמת. See Tanḥumekha Yesha’ash’u Nafshi: Tolna (Jerusalem, 2004), pp. 235, 405, 506, 698.
[10] See Cecil Roth, The Jews in the Renaissance (Philadelphia, 1959), p. 315.
[11] R. Solomon ben Adret, She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rashba, vol. 1, no. 571(b), deals with a case where a woman accused her husband, who was also a rabbi, of: 1. sexually abusing their son, 2. having sexual relations with his slave, 3. being a heretic. However, in this case it is not clear that the woman was to be believed, as she made the accusations as part of her dispute with her husband. Things got so bad that she hired a non-Jew to bring her accusations before the government, knowing that if she was believed her husband would be burned. (She clearly wanted to get rid of him for good.) This case is discussed by Norman Roth, Jews, Visigoths and Muslims in Medieval Spain (Leiden, 1994), pp. 195-196.




Approbations and Restrictions: Printing the Talmud in Eighteenth Century Amsterdam and Two Frankfurts

Approbations and Restrictions:
Printing the Talmud in Eighteenth Century Amsterdam and Two Frankfurts
by Marvin J. Heller
Approbations designed to protect the investment of printers and their sponsors when publishing a large work such as the Talmud were well intentioned. Unfortunately, the results were counter-productive, resulting in acrimonious disputes between publishers within and between cities. This article discusses the first approbations, issued for the Frankfurt on the Oder Talmud (1697-99), and the resulting dispute with printers in Amsterdam in 1714-17. The background of the presses and the pressmarks utilized by the printers are discussed, giving a fuller picture of the printing of the Talmud in the subject period, as well as addressing antecedent (Benveniste) and subsequent editions.
Approbations for books have multiple purposes, among them commendations, indicating approval or praise for the subject work, confirming that a book’s contents do not contain forbidden or prohibited matter, and to protect a publisher’s investment from competitive editions for a fixed period of time. This article is concerned with the last purpose, here rabbinic approbations (hascoma, pl. hascomot) limiting or preventing rival editions of the Talmud published in the last decade of the seventeenth century into the first half of the eighteenth century.
The restrictive approbations discussed here are unlike those issued previously, such as the first approbations for a Hebrew book, R. Jacob Barukh ben Judah Landau’s (15th cent.) concise halakhic compendium, Sefer Ha-Agur (Naples, 1487), one of seven approbations, that of R. Judah ben Jehiel Rofe (Messer Leone, 15th cent.) stating he has examined ha-Agur, and, “it is a work that gives forth pleasant words. . . . I have, therefore, set my signature unto these nectars of the honeycomb, these words of beauty,” or those in Italy or in Basle, which assured the authorities that nothing untoward or offensive to Christianity was included in the book, or to current approbations, which assure the reader that a work’s contents are in conformity with the community’s religious standards. In contrast, the approbation issued for the Frankfurt on the Oder Berman Talmud, and to subsequent editions, was a license for a fixed number of years, prohibiting other publishers from printing competitive editions that would prevent the printer and his sponsor(s), who would otherwise be reluctant to make the substantial investment required to print such a large multi-volume work as the Talmud, from realizing a return on their investment.
The discord arising from restrictive approbations for printing the Talmud were not the first such disputes. In Amsterdam, disputes between printers arose over editions of the Bible. Johannes Georgius Nisselius and Joseph Athias competed in the mid-seventeenth century over a Sacra Biblia (Hebrew Bible) for the use of students and several years later Athias and Uri Phoebus were involved in controversy over their translations of the Bible into Yiddish, competing for the Jewish market in Poland. Arguing over the right to publish for and sell to that market, they sought to reinforce their positions by seeking approbations from the Polish, as well as the Amsterdam rabbinate.[1] Nevertheless, their competition pales in contrast to the recurring altercations over the right to print the Talmud, which spanned several centuries and much of the European continent.
Raphael Natan Nuta Rabbinovicz writes that the intent in granting this and subsequent approbations was for the good of the community, to insure investors a reasonable return on their investment. The result, however, was that the Talmud was printed only eight times in the century from 1697 to 1797, and the price of a set of the Talmud was dear. Prior to that the Talmud had been printed several times in Italy and Poland within a relatively short period of time, the primary impediment then being the opposition of the Church and local authorities. Rabbinovicz concludes that after 1797 the use of restrictive approbations declined, with the consequence that within four decades, to 1835, the Talmud was printed nine times.[2]
During last decade of the seventeenth century into the first half of the eighteenth century several rival editions of the Talmud appeared, beginning with the Frankfurt on the Oder Talmud (1697-99) followed by two incomplete editions in Amsterdam (1714-17 and 1714), the Frankfurt on the Main Talmud (1720–22), again in Amsterdam (1752–1765), and finally the Sulzbach Red (1755-63) and Black (1766-70). We are concerned with and focus on the early editions, that is, on the dispute between the Frankfurt on the Oder and Amsterdam printers, their dispute resulting from restrictive approbations issued to presses printing the Talmud. This article discusses the background of the Hebrew presses that published these Talmud editions in the seventeenth and eighteenth century; its primary focus, being the disputes resulting from the restrictive approbations.
I Amsterdam – Benveniste Talmud
Amsterdam has a distinguished place in Jewish history. Among the notable features of that city’s Jewish community are its printing-houses, among the foremost in Europe for centuries. Highly regarded, Amsterdam imprints were distributed and sold throughout all of Europe. The preeminence of Amsterdam as a European book center is evident, for it is estimated that the output of the Dutch presses in the seventeenth century exceeded the combined production of all the presses of all other European countries. The number of book-printers totaled 273 at its peak in 1675-99, employing at its height in excess of 30,000 people supported through some facet of the book trade.[3] The important works published by its presses include editions of the Talmud, beginning with the Benveniste Talmud of 1644-47, through the much praised Proops’ Talmud of 1752-65. In addition to complete editions of the Talmud individual treatises, frequently in a smaller format, were also published for students and individuals who did not require or who could not afford a complete Talmud.[4]
The printing of Hebrew books in Amsterdam by Jews begins in 1627, when two printers published books, Manasseh (Menasseh) Ben Israel (1604-57) and Daniel de Fonesca. The former’s press was the first to publish with a Sephardic rite prayer-book, completed on January 1, 1627. Manasseh Ben Israel would achieve acclaim that, together with its founder’s many other achievements, is still recalled today. Manasseh did not publish Talmudic tractates but his press did issue three critical editions of Mishnayot (1632, 1643, and 1646). He also intended to publish an edition of the Talmud but that did not come to pass.
The next printer of Hebrew books of import in Amsterdam was Immanuel (Imanoel) Benveniste. Benveniste is believed to have been among the Jewish refugees from Spain or Portugal, and that he was descended from the illustrious Sephardic family of that name.[5] Beneveniste relocated to Amsterdam because, by the mid-seventeenth century that city offered better opportunities for the distribution of Hebrew books than any city in Italy.[6] Beneveniste was the publisher of the first Amsterdam Talmud, printed from 1644-47. The Benveniste Talmud is in a smaller (c. 260:195 cm.) quarto format than the usual large folio editions.[7]

Fig. 1
Although not subject to restrictive approbations it is included here due to its relevance to the history of the printing the Talmud in Amsterdam and because the title-pages of Benveniste’s publications are distinguished by his escutcheon, an upright lion facing inward towards a tower; a star is above the lion and the tower. The lion is on the viewer’s right, the tower on the left. At least six forms of Benveniste’s device have been identified. In all cases, excepting his Talmudic treatises, Benveniste’s insignia is set in a crest above an architectural frame surrounding the text of the title page. On the title-pages of the Benveniste tractates his mark appears at the bottom of the page in an ornamental shield, with a helmet in the crest (fig. 1). Given the high regard of most Benveniste imprints this device was subsequently used by several printers in Amsterdam, including two of the following subject editions, as well as by other presses in various locations.[8]
This Talmud has been has been praised for restoring expurgated material. Unlike Benveniste’s other publications, however, the Beneveniste Talmud is not highly regarded. Raphael Natan Nuta Rabbinovicz quotes from an approbation given by R. Moses Judah ha-Cohen, Av Bet Din, of the Ashkenazi community in Amsterdam, for the Berman Talmud (Frankfurt on the Oder, 1697-99) which states that Benveniste, due to his concern over expenses, printed a Talmud edition which was, due to its small size, difficult to learn from. Furthermore, Benveniste used letters that were “the smallest of the small and blurred so that the users eyes become heavy and his sight wanders as if from old age.”[9] This notwithstanding, no less a personage than the Vilna Gaon (R. Elijah ben Soloman Zalman, Gr”a, 1720-70) made use of the Benveniste Talmud, Rabbinovicz writing that “he had heard from a great Talmudic scholar who related that he had seen a Talmud from which the Gr”a had learned by R. Judah Bachrach (1775-1846) av bet din Seiny with his (Gr”a’s) handwritten annotations, brief and varied from his printed annotations, and that it was a Benveniste Talmud.”[10]
II – Frankfurt on the Oder – Michael Gottschalk
Printing with Hebrew letters in Frankfurt on the Oder begins when the Christian printers Joachim and Friedreich Hartmann (1594-1631), who, using new Hebrew fonts and vowels cast by Zechariah Crato (?) of Wittenberg, published a Hebrew Bible in 1595-96. While there are references to an even earlier Bible, half a century earlier, that is uncertain. More than a century later, Johann Christoph Beckmann (1641-1711), professor of Greek language history, and theology at the University of Frankfurt on the Oder, operated a printing-press in Frankfurt on the Oder from 1673 to 1717, which he acquired from his brother Friedreich on June 1, 1673 for 400 Thaler; Friedreich, in turn, had purchased the press for a like amount. Beckmann obtained a travel scholarship from the Brandenburg Elector and, during his travels in Europe came to Amsterdam. In 1663, in that city, Beckmann met Jewish students, the renowned R. Jacob Abendana (1630-85), and studied Talmud. In 1666, Beckmann returned to Frankfurt, where he obtained a position at the university (Viadrina), teaching there until his death in 1717 and serving as rector eight times. Because of the admission of Jewish students, the Viadrina became the “Amsterdam of the East,” both Hebrew and oriental studies being of importance.[11]
Beckmann was granted, initially, on May 1, 1675, a license to employ two Jewish workers, under the direct protection of the university, to print a Hebrew Bible, this despite of the protests of Frankfurt city. By 1693, however, Beckmann found that his responsibilities at the university left him with insufficient time to manage the press. Therefore, he contracted with Michael Gottschalk, a local bookbinder and book-dealer to manage the printing-house, transferring all of the typographical equipment and material to Gottschalk. Their arrangement was noted on the title-pages of the books issued by the press, which stated “with the letters of Lord Johann Christoph Beckmann, Doctor and Professor . . . at the press of Michael Gottschalk.” Gottschalk became the moving spirit of the press for almost four decades.
After printing several varied Hebrew titles Gottschalk approached Beckmann, requesting that he obtain permission to reprint the Talmud. Beckmann petitioned Friedreich III, Elector of Brandenburg (1657-1713, reigned 1688-1713, from 1701 King of Prussia), requesting a license to print the Talmud. Friedreich, in turn, sought the counsel of the Berlin professor Dr. Daniel Ernest Jablonski (1660-1741), from 1691, court preacher at Königsberg for the elector of Brandenburg, Friederick III. Jablonski, a Christian German theologian of Czech origin, an orientalist, had been associated with universities in Holland and England, settling in Lissa in 1686, and from there moving to Berlin. In 1700, Jablonski became a member of the Academy of Sciences in Berlin. Jablonski established a Hebrew press in Berlin, publishing a scholarly edition of the Hebrew Bible based on the Leusden edition (Amsterdam, 1667, Atthias) and a translation of Richard Bentley’s A Confutation of Atheism into Latin (Berlin, 1696). Jablonski, was to become personally involved with Hebrew printing in Berlin, and would be participate in the publishing of two later editions of the Talmud.
When a sponsor was sought for the Frankfurt on the Oder Talmud, Beckmann found one in the Court Jew Issachar (Ber Segal) ha-Levi Bermann (1661-1730) of Halberstadt, known as Bermann Halberstadt or, in his commercial dealings with the non-Jewish world, as Behrend Lehmann. It was Bermann who bore the cost of this Talmud, and whose name is associated with it. Selma Stern observes that Bermann was a pious and observant Jew throughout his life. He was held in high regard by his fellow Jews; and was described as “a second Joseph of Egypt” and “the chosen of the Lord, who warns him about the machinations of his enemies and miraculously rescues him when he is in dire straits.” Bermann was known among his people as “the founder of the Klaus in Halberstadt, the publisher of the Talmud, the man who defeated the first Prussian king at chess and who even in the glittering world of the Court never forgot Eternal Truth, corresponded to the ideal which Jews have had of their great men leaders.”[12]
Beckmann and Bermann entered into an agreement to publish the Talmud, Beckmann transferring his rights to Bermann, and the latter accepting responsibility for publishing the entire edition, making an initial payment of three hundred reichsthalers at the time of the agreement.[13] The printer was to be the Christian, Michael Gottschalk. Approximately half of the sets of this Talmud, known as the Berman Talmud, were distributed by Bermann to yeshivot and penurious scholars who could not otherwise have acquired a complete Talmud. Not only did he spend fifty thousand reichthalers of his own money to publish the Talmud, from which he apparently saw no financial gain, distributing copies to Talmudic students, but afterwards granted permission to the Amsterdam and Frankfurt on the Main printers to publish a complete Talmud, this in spite of the fact that he had approbations preventing republication of competitive editions.[14]
Fig. 2
Each volume of this Talmud has two title-pages. The first, a volume header page, has an engraved copper plate title-page (fig. 2) by the craftsman Martin Bernigeroth (1670-1733), Dt. Kupferstecher u. Zeichner (engraver and illustrator).[15] This initial title-page consists of an upright lamb with a pitcher on top of a portico. Below it, on the sides of the page, are Moses to the right and Aaron to the left. Beneath them, similarly situated, are King David with a harp, and King Solomon. Above each figure is that individuals’ name. Avraham Habermann and Avraham Yaari both write that the sheep and laver represent Bermann, who was a Levi. Yaari adds that the sheep further represents Bermann’s “mazel” or constellation, for Bermann was born on the 24th of Nissan (April 23), 1661, the astrological symbol for that month being a sheep.[16]
The second textual tractate title-page follows immediately after the volume title-page. The tractate title-pages are basically copied, with several modifications, from the Benveniste Talmud; but also includes some features characteristic of the Basel Talmud, which is supposed to be the source of this edition. The text concludes in Latin, informing that it is “in accordance with expurgations of the Council of Trent. . . .” and that it was printed in conformity with the Basle edition (1578 – 1581). Between the Hebrew and Latin text is Michael Gottschalk’s printer’s mark (fig. 3), which appears on the title-pages of this Talmud. It is a mirror-image monogram (cipher) of his name, the first usage of such a monogram in a Hebrew book.[17]

Fig. 3
Printed with this Talmud are approbations for the edition. When Johann Christoph Beckmann secured permission in 1695 from the Kaiser, Leopold, and from Friedreich Augustus, Elector of Saxony and King of Poland, to print the Talmud, he was given not only authorization to print the Talmud, but was also granted the sole and exclusive right to do so for twelve years. Leading rabbinic figures, according to Rabbinovicz, issued restrictive approbations, the first instance in which such rabbinic licenses were granted. The rabbis who signed the approbations were R. Naftali ben Isaac ha-Kohen Katz, av bet din (head of the rabbinical court) of Pozna, R. Joseph Samuel of Cracow, av bet din of Frankfurt on the Main, R. David ben Abraham Oppenheim, av bet din of Nikolsburg, and R. Moses Judah ha Kohen and R. Jacob Sasportas of Amsterdam concurred in granting this monopoly, issuing approbations (hascomas) for twenty years.
These approbations were unlike those issued previously in Italy, which assured the authorities that nothing untoward or offensive to them was included in the book, or current approbations, which assure the reader that a work’s contents are in conformity with the community’s religious standards. The approbation issued for this Talmud, and to subsequent editions, was a license for a fixed number of years, prohibiting other publishers from printing competitive editions that would prevent the printer and his sponsor(s), who would otherwise be reluctant to make the substantial investment required to print the Talmud, from realizing a return on their investment.
Oppenheim refers to the burning of the Talmud and other Hebrew books in the Chnielnicki massacres tah ve-tat (1648–49), fires that resulted in the loss of many Hebrew books, resulting in a dire need for Talmudic tractates. Indeed, he writes that the entire Jewish educational system was endangered due to insufficient copies of the Talmud. He praises Lehmann, noting his benevolence in distributing half of the copies to needy students free of charge.[18] Towards the end of his long and flowery approbation Oppenheim forbids the printing of the Talmud by anyone without the permission of Issachar Bermann SG”L, from the day that printing commences until twenty years have elapsed from its completion. This prohibition is “whether for all or for part, even for one tractate only, whether for oneself or for others, and is not to be done by means of guile or ruse.” To enforce his decree R. Oppenheim states that “this decree falls equally upon the purchaser as well as the seller, for that which a rabbinic court declares ownerless is ownerless. Any [such tractate] found in a person’s possession without license, is to be taken forcibly, without payment or deed . . .”[20]
Similarly, R. Joseph Samuel of Cracow begins by praising Berman, noting that all realize that these many days many thought to print the Talmud due to its being unavailable, not to be found, except one to a city and two to a family. He notes, however, that although many wanted to print the Talmud it was to no avail, for it is a large project of much work and difficult to complete, until the Lord aroused the spirit of R. Berman of Halberstadt for the public benefit and the honor of the Torah, to print an entire Talmud on good paper, with fine ink, and diligent workers, well edited. Lest there be many who “bear gall and wormwood” (Deuteronomy 29:17) who also wish to print the Talmud and therefore cause great harm R. Berman’s interests, and “lock the door before him” (cf. Bekhorot 10b) who performs a great mitzvah to benefit the public, for “such is such theTorah, and such is its reward” (Berakhot 21b, Menahot 21b)? He therefore, concurs with the other leading rabbis to decree,
Excommunication and a ban on each and every person who should take it upon himself to print the Talmud in its entirety or in whole or in part without the agreement and knowledge of the noble R. Berman, except for a section needed to learn in yehivot, which is not included in the ban. It is permitted to print only that section and not a complete tractate in order to “magnify the Torah, and make it glorious” (Isaiah 42:21). A blessing should come upon he who hearkens to our words, may blessings of good come upon him and may he receive good from God Who is good. But “he who breaches through a fence, shall be bitten by a serpent” (Avodah Zara 27b) . . . and all the curses written in the Torah shall come upon him. . . .
Even before the privilege for this Talmud had expired the need for a new edition became apparent, numerous appeals being made to Issachar Bermann to republish the Talmud. Gottschalk, who had the rights granted to Beckmann, was also favorable to reprinting the Talmud. The Talmud had sold well and Gottschalk, as a result, had become a wealthy man.[20] Frederick William I of Prussia acceded to their request on May 23, and a new privilege, dated October 13, 1710, was granted to Gottschalk by Joseph I, successor to Leopold, in 1705, to print the Talmud and sell it throughout his domain, albeit with the customary restrictions and with the provision, as with all Hebrew books, that five copies be brought to the Imperial court. Similarly, on January 11, 1711, Frederick Augustus I (Augustus II), Elector of Saxony and King of Poland, also granted such a privilege. Nevertheless, these privileges were not immediately acted upon by Gottschalk and it would be several years before he printed the second of his three editions of the Talmud.[21]
III – Marches and de Palasios and Solomon Proops
Individual tractates were frequently published in Amsterdam, to address the continuing communal need for treatises for study purposes. The printers of these tractates include Moses Mendes Coutinho, Asher Anshel and Issachar Ber, Issac de Cordova, Joseph Dayyan and Moses Frankfurter, the latter two dayyanim (judges) of the Ashkenaz religious court. During the interval between the Benveniste and the Frankfurt on the Oder editions of the Talmud no complete Talmud had been printed. It must have appeared unseemly, however, that in Amsterdam, the center of Hebrew printing, with the greatest number of, and the largest, Hebrew printing-presses, that no Talmud edition had been issued for over six decades.
An attempt to correct this, even if that was not the printers’ primary intent, occurred during the interval between the first and second Frankfurt on the Oder editions of the Talmud. two independent editions of the Talmud were begun in Amsterdam in 1714. The first was published by the partners Samuel ben Solomon Marcheses and Raphael ben Joshua de Palasios, the second by Solomon Proops. Both publishers began to print in 1714; both editions are in attractive large folio format; the title-pages of both Talmuds have, as a printer’s device, copies of the Benveniste escutcheon (figs. 4, 5). Most importantly, neither Talmud edition was completed.
Except for a Sephardic rite prayer-book, printed by Samuel Marcheses at the press of Joseph Athias, neither partner, prominent members of the Amsterdam Sephardic community, had previously published any works. Their motivation in establishing a press was for the specific purpose of printing the Talmud. Furthermore, they intended to do so in such a manner as to produce an especially fine and accurate edition. The workers would not be hurried, so that they could work with care, reducing errors, supervised by R. Moses Frankfurter, who would help establish the correct text.[22] Marcheses and de Palasios did so under the influence of R. Judah Aryeh Loeb ben Joseph Samuel Schotten ha-Kohen (1644-1719), av bet din of Frankfurt on the Main, and his father-in-law R. Samuel Settin of Frankfurt n Main. Judah Aryeh Loeb had previously attempted to have a Talmud printed in Frankfurt in 1710 but, due to the prior approbations granted to the Frankfurt on the Oder Talmud his efforts were to no avail, and he was unable to get authorization from the emperor to print the Talmud. In 1713, Judah Aryeh Loeb explored the possibility of obtaining permission to print in Frankfurt from the Kaiser in Vienna, but did not even receive a response to his inquiries. Judah Aryeh Loeb next turned to Amsterdam where, with the assistance of his father-in-law and the agreement of R. Issachar (Ber Segal) ha-Levi Bermann who had the prior approbation he commenced to print the Talmud.[23] Subsequently Samuel Settin arranged for Samuel Marches and Joshua de Palasios to undertake this venture, arranging for R. Zvi Hirsh of Sharbishin, at the time a resident of Amsterdam, to visit various Jewish communities, seeking subscribers to defray the cost of publication.[24]
Printing began with tractate Berakhot in 1714; the following tractates are recorded by Rabbinovicz as having been printed: 1715 – Shabbat and Seder Zera’im: 1716 – EruvinPesahimHagigahMo’ed KatanYomaShekalimMegillah, and Ketubbot: 1717 – BezahRosh Ha-ShanahSukkahTa’anit, and Yevamot.[25] Printing was discontinued in 1717 due to the approbations issued to the Frankfurt on the Oder printer for the Berman Talmud.
The approbations for this edition appear in tractate Shabbat. They are from R. Solomon ben Jacob Ayllon, R. Gabriel ben Judah Loeb of Cracow, R. Samuel ben Joseph Schotten ha-Kohen, R. Baruch ben Moses Meir Rappaport, R. Ezekiel ben Abraham of the house of Katzenellenbogen, R. Menahem Mendel Ashkenazi, R. Isaac Aaron ben Joseph Israel of Metz, and R. Phineas ben Simeon Wolff Auerbach of Cracow. The approbation of R. Menahem Mendel Ashkenazi, at the time Landesrabbiner in Bamberg and Baiersdorf, subjected anyone who violated the copyright to excommunication, placing a
ban, and anathema, and death on anyone who would reprint the Talmud during twenty years from the completion of this edition without the knowledge or permission of the above [Judah Aryeh Loeb] in any manner, whether in its entirety or in part, even a single tractate, excepting a section needed for learning in the yeshivot according to the requirements of the times, whether by himself or by his agent or his agent’s agent, directly or indirectly, whether a member of his household or not a member of his household . . . and he who heeds our words shall be blessed . . .
Marcheses and de Palasios acknowledge the existence of the prior restrictive approbation for the Berman Talmud on the title-pages of their tractates, which note that most of its benefits can be attributed to the Talmud of R. Issachar Bermann of Halberstadt, and also state
[And even though] most of the qualities to be found in this Talmud were acceded to me by the noble, the eminent, the distinguished R. Issachar Bermann Segal of Halberstadt even though the time restricting publication established by the geonim of the land for the above noble (Berman) for printing his Talmud has not yet elapsed. An palanquin to the above eminent noble for this. Now “My eyes and my heart are always toward the Lord” (cf. Psalms 25:15) . . .

Fig. 4. 1714, Berakhot, Marches and de Palasios 

Fig. 5. 1714, Berakhot, Solomon Proops
In the same year, 1714, that Berakhot was published a second Talmud was begun in Amsterdam. The publisher of that edition was Solomon ben Joseph Proops, then a book dealer, Maecenas to numerous Amsterdam publishers, and the founder of the famous Proops press. He had been a book-dealer and financed and partnered in a number of works published at other presses before establishing his own press in 1704. The printing-house founded by Solomon Proops would become one of the most illustrious in the history of Amsterdam Hebrew printing. It issued, almost simultaneously with the Marches and de Palasios edition, a copy of Berakhot with Seder Zera’im, possibly followed by Bezah.
Proops was unable to continue with his proposed Talmud edition, publishing one (two) volume(s) only. Judah Aryeh Loeb, relying on the approbations given his Talmud prior to the Proops edition, objected to the publication of a rival Talmud, and brought the matter before a rabbinic court. The court’s enjoined Proops from printing additional tractates, and trespassing on Judah Aryeh Loeb’s rights as a printer. To avoid further difficulties of this sort, Marques and de Palasios secured approbations from leading rabbinic authorities for their Talmud, prohibiting other printers from publishing a Talmud.
Rabbinovicz observes that Proop’s defense, that he was unaware that Samuel Marches and Joshua de Palasios were already engaged in the publication of the Talmud, was untenable. Proops had to know that R. Judah Aryeh Loeb was publishing tractates in Amsterdam. Proops might argue that he had begun Berakhot prior to the other press, was unaware of their approbations, and having begun, should be allowed to complete his work.
This was not the last law suit concerning the Talmud that Judah Aryeh Loeb had to contest. Although we can sympathize with Judah Aryeh Leib’s difficulties with Solomon Proops, there is a certain poetic justice to his situation, for just as he protested the Proops Talmud in Amsterdam, so too did he face objections from the Frankfurt on the Oder printer. As noted above, Michael Gottschalk, the Berlin and Frankfurt on the Oder printer, who had printed his first Talmud (1697-99) and would subsequently print two additional two editions of the Talmud (1715-22, 1734-39), brought a suit to force Judah Aryeh Loeb and the partners to cease printing their Talmud. In addition to his prior approbations Gottschalk claimed that he had obtained the sole authorization to print his second Talmud, again for twenty years, from Kaiser Joseph I of Germany in 1710, King Frederick Augusta of Poland and Saxony in 1711, Kaiser Karl VI and King Frederick Wilheim in 1715. Gottschalk filed his complaint in mid-1717.
Rabbinovicz writes that he does not know why Gottschalk waited so long to exercise his rights to stop the printing of this edition. Gottschalk had obtained royal permission, as well as rabbinic approbations, as early as 1715. Instead, he permitted Judah Aryeh Loeb to print a number of tractates over a period of several years before he acted. According to Friedberg, in that year, Samuel Schotten took tractates from the Amsterdam Talmud to the book fair in Lippsia (Leipzig).
There were several book fairs of importance in Germany, among the most important being those of Frankfurt on the Main from as early as 1240 and the Leipzig (Lippsia) fair, which predates it, from 1170. Both locations were centers of the printing industry, Frankfurt midway between north and south, Lippsia in the north. Although Frankfurt initially overshadow Leipzig, it later “was forced to yield to the Saxon city. . . . which became . . . the centre of German book publishing.” Leipzig’s importance can be further credited, “not in its number of presses but in its number of shops, its number of book dealers, and publishing houses.” Furthermore, although many German cities had book fairs, “Leipzig was one of the most important fairs eastern and south Eastern Europe and soon utilized the advantage of her connections for the development of the book trade.”[26] It is not surprising then, that Moses Schotten, the son of Samuel Schotten, attended the book fair.[27]
Returning to Friedberg’s account of events, Moses Schotten attended the Leipzig book fair, bringing samples of the tractates printed in Amsterdam. Gottschalk “waited for him and then ambushed him in secret.” Immediately after Schotten arrived in Leipzig Gottschalk contacted the fair officials, that the tractates brought by Schotten should be confiscated. The fair officials did not act, however, instead awaiting instructions from the prince of the district capital, Dresden, who delayed until the conclusion of the fair. In the interim, Schotten was able to sell the tractates that he had brought without hindrance.
Gottschalk returned home, bitter, and submitted a complaint on January 3, 1716 to the king. In it Gottschalk related what had occurred at the fair and petitioned the king for recourse against those who had trampled “with their feet” on his legal rights. The king responded to affirmatively to Gottschalk on February 12, 1716, prohibiting the sale of the Talmud at the fair by anyone except Gottschalk. Several additional tractates were printed in Amsterdam and Schotten returned, in October 3, 1717, to the fair. Gottschalk, when he became aware of this, informed the officials of their obligations and this occasion all the books (tractates) that Schotten brought with him were seized. Moses Schotten justified his actions, stating that he had come only as an agent of his father, Samuel Schotten, from Frankfurt on the Main. If the fair officials had complaints they should bring them to that city. Although Gottschalk was successful in preventing the sale at the fair and the further publication of tractates from this Talmud in Amsterdam ceased in 1717, his victory was short lived. Soon after Judah Aryeh Loeb was able to resume printing in Frankfurt on the Main, publishing a fine and complete Talmud.[28]
III
Frankfurt on the Main Talmud
Printing was relatively late in coming to Frankfurt on the Main, partly due to its proximity to Mainz, an early center of printing. The first Frankfurt printer was Beatus Murner, who printed nine books in 1511-12. Among those nine titles are the first books printed in Frankfurt with Hebrew letters, a 1512 editions of a Birkat ha-Mazon Benedicite Judeorum’ (Hebrew in woodcut) and Hukat ha-Pesach Ritus et celebrate phase judeorum’ by Beatus Murner’s better known brother, Thomas Murner, a Maronite brother and enemy of Martin Luther.
The printing of a significant number of Hebrew books begins in the last decades of the seventeenth century, in about 1675. Four hundred ninety titles, albeit some questionable, are ascribed to Frankfurt in the hundred-year period from 1640 to 1739.[29] Johann Koelner (1708–28), who published a complete Talmud (1720-22) is credited with more than one hundred titles, although that number includes each of the tractates in his edition of the Talmud.[30] This Talmud was initially the completion of the Talmud begun in Amsterdam in 1714 by R. Judah Aryeh Loeb together with Samuel Marches and Joshua de Palasios interrupted by the suit, based on approbations for his edition, brought by Michael Gottschalk
Judah Aryeh Loeb now attempted, successfully, to complete the Talmud he had begun in Amsterdam in Frankfurt on the Main. Given that Gottschalk, based on the approbations he had received for his second Talmud, was able to prevent publication of Judah Aryeh Loeb’s Talmud in Amsterdam, only three years earlier, how was Judah Aryeh Loeb able to publish a complete Talmud only three years later in Frankfurt? Friedberg writes, tersely, that “the eminent, the prominent R. Samson Wertheimer from Vilna, court Jew of Karl VI, influenced him to give Aryeh Loeb ben Joseph Samuel av bet din Frankfurt on the Main authorization to print a new edition of the Talmud. The sovereign acceded to his request and authorized publication of the Talmud in Frankfurt from 1720.”[31] Rabbinovicz remarks that the interruption in the work on the Amsterdam edition and the ensuing great expense, as well as the bribes in the courts until Aryeh Leib succeeded, left him in reduced financial condition, until Samson Wertheimer, became involved, making it possible to continue and publish this fine edition.[32]

Fig. 6
Approbations were also published with this Talmud, primarily reprints from the Amsterdam edition and with one new approbation, from R. Jacob ben Benjamin Katz (Poppers, Shav Ya’akov) (1719). Another example of the continuity of the two editions is that the volumes issued in both cities are alike, the title pages showing minor textual variations only, such as the new place of publication, and on some but not all of the Frankfurt tractates, the inclusion of accompanying Latin text, confirming that it was printed in accordance with the text of the censor Marco Marino (Basle Talmud, 1578-81) and variations of the printer’s mark. Whereas the treatises printed in Amsterdam have a new woodcut of the Benveniste printer’s mark, the Frankfurt volumes, although retaining the outer crest with helmet, replace the lion and tower with the double headed eagle of the Hapsburgs (fig. 6).
Printing began in Frankfurt on the Main in 1720 with tractate Kiddushin, it having been anticipated that they would be allowed to bring the tractates printed previously in Amsterdam to Frankfurt. However, this was not permitted, so that they began to print the remainder of the Talmud, beginning with Berakhot completing the Talmud until Kiddushin that year, except for Seder Zera’im and tractate Ta’anit which were printed in 1722. Another possibility, suggested by Rabbinovicz, is that they were allowed to publicly sell the tractates printed in Amsterdam in Germany, but the market for the tractates printed in Frankfurt exceeded expectations, so that, to complete sets of the Talmud it was necessary to reprint those tractates printed earlier in Amsterdam.[33]
IV Aftermath
The next controversy over rival editions of the Talmud occurred with the second printing of the Talmud by the Proops’ press in 1752 – 1765. This edition, published by Solomon Proop’s sons, Joseph, Jacob, and Abraham, is a large, very fine folio edition. Publication was interrupted for several reasons, but primarily due to the publication of rival editions of the Talmud in Sulzbach by Meshullam Zalman Frankel and afterwards by his sons, Aaron and Naphtali, that is, the Sulzbach Red (1755-63) and the Sulzbach Black (1766-70). The first Sulzbach Talmud is known as Sulzbach red because the first title-page in the volume was printed with red ink, in contrast to Sulzbach black, in which the first title-page in the volume is printed entirely in black ink. Both the red and the black are smaller folio and not highly regarded.
Resolution of the dispute between the two publishing houses was settled by a rabbinic court that determined, among its findings, that despite Proops’ prior approbations the Sulzbach printer did not have to desist from publishing, for the Sulzbach Talmud was less expensive and therefore available to individuals who could not afford the larger and finer Amsterdam Talmud, the latter marketed to a more affluent market.
One other dispute of significance, that embroiled leading rabbis in Europe, was over the rival editions of the Talmud printed by the Shapira press in Slavuta and the Romm press in Vilna of their respective editions of the Talmud in 1835. Both the Amsterdam-Sulzbach and Slavuta-Vilna disputes are beyond the scope of this article. However, they, as well as the controversy surrounding the Frankfurt on the Oder and Amsterdam editions of the Talmud, the subject of this article, confirm Raphael Natan Nuta Rabbinovicz’s observation as to the negative and disruptive results of restrictive approbations.
Even though the intent in granting approbations was for the good of the community, to insure investors a reasonable return on their investment, the result, as noted above, was detrimental. The Talmud was printed only eight times in the century from 1697 to 1797, and the price of a set of the Talmud was dear. Prior to that the Talmud had been printed several times in Italy and Poland within a relatively short period of time, the primary impediment then being the opposition of the Church and local authorities. After 1797 the use of restrictive approbations declined, with the consequence that within four decades the Talmud was printed nine times, this notwithstanding the Slavuta-Vilna rivalry. Given these controversies and their negative outcomes, perhaps a better course for all would have been to apply Hillel’s admonition in Avot.
Be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace.
(Avot 1:12)
[1] L. Fuks and R. G. FuksMansfeld, Hebrew Typography in the Northern Netherlands 1585-1815, (Leiden, 1984-87), I pp. 45-48, II pp. 237-40, 297.
[2] Raphael Natan Nuta Rabbinovicz, Ma’amar al Hadpasat ha-Talmud with Additions, ed. A. M. Habermann pp. 100, 155-56 (Jerusalem, 1952) [Hebrew].
[3] H. I. Bloom, The Economic Activities of the Jews of Amsterdam (Port Washington, 1969), p. 45.
[4] Concerning individual tractates not printed as part of a Talmud in this period see Marvin J. Heller, Printing the Talmud: A History of the Individual Treatises Printed from 1700 to 1750 (Leiden, 1999).
[5] The Benveniste family, distinguished and widespread in Spain and Provence, is mentioned as early as 1079 in documents from Barcelona. After the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492 the family was widely dispersed, but primarily throughout the Ottoman Empire where many eminent rabbis were named Benvensite. (“Benveniste,” Encyclopaedia Judaica. Ed. Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik. 2nd ed. Vol. 3 (Detroit, 2007. 382. Gale Virtual Reference Library. Web. 4 Jan. 2012).
[6] A. M. Habermann, The History of the Hebrew Book. From Marks to Letters; From Scroll to Book (Jerusalem, 1968), p. 155 [Hebrew].
[7] In addition to the well-known commercial edition, there was also a deluxe edition, measuring 310 x 225 mm. This was brought to my attention by of Daniel Kestenbaum of Kestenbaum and Company.
[8] Concerning the widespread use of the Benveniste device see my “The Printer’s Mark of Immanuel Benveniste and its Later Influence,” Studies in Bibliography and Booklore XVIII (Cincinnati, 1993), pp. 3-14, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2008), pp. 54-71. Parenthetically, among the first to employ the Benveniste escutcheon on a tractate title-page was the press of Asher Anshel ben Eliezer Chazzen and Issachar Ber ben Abraham Eliezer of Minden in their edition of Bava Batra (1702). Their other tractate, Bava Mezia (1699) does not have the Benveniste escutcheon.
[9] Rabbinovicz, pp. 95-6.
[10] Rabbinovicz, p. 129 no. 1. Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel, Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri: Hagahot u-Megihim (Ramat-Gan, 1996), pp. 404-05 [Hebrew] adds that the Vilna Gaon learned from and made annotations on the Berlin – Frankfurt on the Oder Talmud of 1715-23. 
[12] Selma Stern, The Court Jew. A Contribution to the History of Absolutism in Central Europe (Philadelphia, 1950), pp. 55-59.
[13] Friedberg. History of Hebrew Typography of the following Cities in Central Europe: Altona, Augsberg, Berlin, Cologne, Frankfort M., Frankfort O., Fürth, Hamberg, Hanau, Heddernheim, Homberg, Ichenhausen, Neuwied, Wandsbeck, and Wilhermsdorf. Offenbach, Prague, Sulzbach, Thannhausen from its beginning in the year 1513 (Antwerp, 1935), p. 37 [Hebrew].
[14] Manfred R. Lehmann, “Behrend Lehmann: The King of the Court Jews” In: Sages and Saints, ed. Leo Jung (Hoboken, 1987), p. 205; Ya’akov Loyfer, Mi-Shontsino ve-ad Ṿilna (Jerusalem: ha-Modia, 2012), p. 139 [Hebrew].
[15] A highly regarded engraver, Martin Bernigeroth is known to have done as many as 1600 engravings, many portraits. His sons, John Martin (1713-1767) and Johann Benedict (1716-1764), were also worked noted engravers. Concerning the former see, Joseph Strutt, A Biographical Dictionary, containing an historical account of all the engravers, from the earliest period of the art of engraving to the present time, and a short list of their most esteemed works . . . I (London, 1785), p. 88.
[16] Avraham Habermann, Title Pages of Hebrew Books, (Tel Aviv, 1969), pp. 63, 130 no. 47 [Hebrew]; Yaari, Printers’ Marks, pp. 49, 152 no. 78.
[17] Avraham Yaari, Hebrew Printers’ Marks (Jerusalem, 1943), pp. 50, 152 no. 79 [Hebrew]; Marvin J. Heller, “Mirror-image Monograms as Printers’ Devices on the Title Pages of Hebrew Books Printed in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” Printing History 40. Rochester, N. Y., 2000, pp. 2-11, reprinted in Studies, pp. 36-38, 363, figs. 21-23.
[18]  Menahem Schmelzer, “Hebrew Printing and Publishing in Germany, 1650-1750,” in Leo Baeck Institute Year Book XXXIII (London, Jerusalem, New York, 1988), p. 375.
[19] “That which a rabbinic court declares ownerless is ownerless’ is discussed in Yevamot 89b, Gittin 36b and Jerusalem Talmud Shekalim 3a. The source for this concept is Ezra 10:8 “And anyone who will not come within three days, as according to the counsel of the princes and the elders, all his property will be forfeited and he will be separated from the congregation of the captivity.”
[20] Institut für angewandte Geschichte – Gessellschaft und Wissenschaft im Dialog e. V. http://www.juedischesfrankfurtvirtuell.de/en/en_C.php
[21] Friedberg, Central Europe, pp. 40-41; William Popper, The Censorship of Hebrew Books (New York, 1899, reprint New York: Burt Franklin, 1968), pp. 111-12.
[22] Ch. B. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography of the following Cities in Europe: Amsterdam, Antwerp, Avignon, Basle, Carlsruhe, Cleve, Coethen, Constance, Dessau, Deyhernfurt, Halle, Isny, Jessnitz, Leyden, London, Metz, Strasbourg, Thiengen, Vienna, Zurich. From its beginning in the year 1516, (Antwerp, 1937), p. 43[Hebrew].
[23] Friedberg, Central Europe, pp 44-45; William Popper, The Censorship of Hebrew Books (New York, 1899, reprint New York: Burt Franklin, 1968), p. 115.
[24] Friedberg, Amsterdam, p. 43.
[25] Rabbinovicz, p. 101.
[26] James Westfall Thompson, The Frankfort Book Fair. The Francofordiense Emporium of Henri Estiene: Edited with Historical Introduction Original Latin Text with English Translation on Opposite Pages and Notes (Chicago, 1911, republished New York, 1968), pp. 10-11, 15, 42.
[27] Jewish attendance at book fairs appears to have been common place. It was at the Frankfurt on the Main book fair in 1577 that Ambrosius Froben met R. Simon Guenzburg (Simon zur Gemze) of Frankfurt, a meeting that eventually culminated in the Basle Talmud (1578-81). Concerning this see my Printing the Talmud: A History of the Earliest Printed Editions of the Talmud (Brooklyn, 1992), p. 244-45.
[28] Friedberg, Central Europe, p. 46.
[29] Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Listing of Books Printed in Hebrew Letters Since the Beginning of Printing circa 1469 through 1863 II (Jerusalem, 1993-95), pp. 579-90 [Hebrew].
[30] Vinograd, I p. 459.
[31] Friedberg, Central Europe, p. 67.
[32] Rabbinovicz, p. 111.
[33] Rabbinovicz, pp. 109-10.



A Note on the הסכמות of the חפץ חיים

A Note on the הסכמות  of the חפץ חיים
By Shnayer Leiman

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

While the focus of the essay was not on  הסכמות , since the bulk of the comments focused on the  הסכמות of the  חפץ חיים  , I shall attempt to address that issue, and only briefly.
1. Whether one chooses to recognize the letter of the  חפץ חיים  as a הסכמה  or not, the letter remains one of the three reasons for bringing  משכן בצלאל  to the attention of the public. Any letter of the  חפץ חיים  is a treasure. This particular one is published only in משכן בצלאל   (and in the secondary sources based upon  משכן בצלאל).
2. It should be noted that   משכן בצלאל  contains three letters of approbation. Aside from the letter of the    חפץ חיים, it includes a letter of approbation from R. Avraham Yoffen (1887-1970), Rosh Yeshiva of Nevarodok in Nevarodok, and then of Nevarodok in Bialystok.  The letter is dated 13 Tishre 5680 [October 7, 1919] and was written in Minsk. A third letter of approbation, from R. Yitzchak Isaac Eliezer Hirshowitz (1871-1941), then a Resh Mesivta in the Slabodka section of Kovno, is dated 5 Tishre 5680 [September 29, 1919] and was also written in Minsk. (Rabbi Hirshowitz is famous, in part, for publishing an early translation into Hebrew of the teachings of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch. His book, מיטב הגיון   [Vilna, 1913] was intended for Lithuanian Jewry and carried an enthusiastic הסכמה from R. Chaim Ozer Grodzenski.) The letters of approbation by Rabbis Yoffen and Hirshowitz not only praise R. Bezalel Alexandrov’s learning and piety, they also indicate that both rabbis examined and approved the manuscript of R. Bezalel Alexandrov’s book. All three letters of approbation are printed together immediately following the title page. All three letters are introduced (separately) with the exact same title: מכתב תעודה מהרב הגאון… To consider the last two letters  הסכמות  ,and the first a private letter that has absolutely nothing to do with the book, seems almost ludicrous. A form-critical analysis leads to the ineluctable conclusion that all three letters of approbation are הסכמות. Moreover, it seems highly unlikely that R. Bezalel Alexandrov, a musar enthusiast, would have placed a letter (by the חפץ חיים) that had absolutely nothing to do with the book, in its הסכמות section and thereby mislead potential buyers and readers of the book. Worse yet, he published the “misleading” letter during the lifetime of the חפץ חיים, and after the חפץ חיים was kind enough to be among the first subscribers to the book! In terms of the nature of the הסכמה by the חפץ חיים, it is paralleled by many others that he wrote in response to specific requests for a הסכמה. He was impeccably honest, and did not want to praise a book he did not read, and was not likely to read. Instead, he showered priestly blessings on the author, מעומקא דלבא.
3. If one examines the first page of prenumeranten in משכן בצלאל (posted with the essay), one will notice that the חפץ חיים’s name appears under the general rubric: אלה שמות הפרענומעראנטין דק”ק ווילנא, שליט”א. This seems awkward, since the חפץ חיים lived in Radin, some 85.6 kilometers from Vilna. The names of no other residents of Radin appear on the four- page list of subscribers. Indeed, the likelihood that anyone would attempt to gather subscriptions from the residents of Radin was probably as high as the likelihood of a Jewish book dealer seeking a copy of the first edition of the נועם אלימלך (one of the rarest of Jewish printed books) in the Serengeti in Tanzania. (Berel Kagan has no entry for Radin.) It is well known, however, that the חפץ חיים frequented Vilna in the 1920’s in particular, and often stayed with relatives in Shnipishok (a Vilna suburb), and would meet with R. Chaim Ozer Grodzenski in order to address the needs of כלל ישראל. Similarly, R. Bezalel Alexandrov was not a resident of Vilna. He was there in 1923 for one purpose only (staying at the home of one of the Vilna subscribers, Shmuel Melamed, at 39 Breite Gass), in order to publish his book. And the letter of the חפץ חיים was written in 1923! It seems likely that the two met in Vilna in 1923 and R. Bezalel asked for a הסכמה, and received the letter he printed at the start of משכן בצלאל.
4. It should be noted that the author of מאיר עיני ישראל (cited in note 7 of the essay), in a chapter entitled “הסכמות מרן החפץ חיים זצ”ל לספרי מחברי תקופתו,” includes the הסכמה  by the חפץ חיים  given to R. Bezalel Alexandrov’s משכן בצלאל.  Also, מפעל הביבליוגרפיה   lists 3  “הסכמות”  for  משכן בצלאל.  It did not imagine that one of the letters was a personal letter unrelated to the book being published.
5. Ultimately the issue is one of definition. What is the definition of a הסכמה ? Or to phrase it another way: what elements must be present in a  הסכמה in order for it to be recognized as a legitimate הסכמה? Here are some possibilities. (I will not bring proofs or disproofs for any of these definitions; in fact, these – and many more – have been suggested as possibilities by leading rabbis throughout the generations.)
1.    A הסכמה  is a legal document by an authorized rabbi that provides copyright protection for the author of a ספר. A הסכמה without such a provision is not a הסכמה.
2.    A הסכמה must be written by an authorized rabbi and he must attest to the integrity of the author and to the integrity of the ספר being published . If the הסכמה lacks the one or the other, it is not a הסכמה.
3.     The  הסכמה  must be written by an authorized rabbi and he needs only to attest to the integrity of the author. Nothing else is significant.
4.    A הסכמה is a promotional document, signed by an authorized rabbi, and necessary for sales. The content of letter is of little consequence.
Whichever definition one chooses, a host of questions will remain to be answered. Who is an authorized rabbi? What if the author of the book, an authorized rabbi, writes the הסכמה for himself? Can a father write a  הסכמה for a son? What shall we do with the many הסכמות that do not fit any of the definitions listed above? Thus, there are censored הסכמות, forged הסכמות, reluctant הסכמות, הסכמות  written under duress, and retracted הסכמות, just to list a few of the many categories. Even aside from these questions, many great rabbis (in all periods) refused to seek הסכמות, and published their books without them. Some stated unequivocally (about their books): מעשיך יקרבוך ומעשיך ירחקוך .
In sum, given the uncertain (and changing) definitions of the term הסכמה through the ages, I cannot speak with confidence that I know precisely, in every case, what is and what isn’t a  הסכמה. And I certainly have no monopoly on wisdom. Nonetheless, for the reasons listed above, I am persuaded that R. Bezalel Alexandrov asked the חפץ חיים for a הסכמה in 1923, and printed the one he received. Readers will have to decide for themselves the precise status of the חפץ חיים’s letter printed at the beginning of משכן בצלאל. But whatever they decide, they need to bear in mind the variety of definitions of הסכמה through the ages, they need to examine all the evidence, and they need to realize that their conclusion will be only one opinion among many others, and not necessarily the correct one.



Quiz Runoff

Quiz Runoff
by Marc B. Shapiro

Written on 4 Shevat, 5773, the yahrzeit of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg

1. In the last post, as the quiz question, I asked for the name of the first Hebrew book published by a living author. The answer is Nofet Tzufim by R. Judah Messer Leon. As the Wikipedia entry for Messer Leon states, this work “was printed by Abraham Conat of Mantua in 1475-6, the only work by a living author printed in Hebrew in the fifteenth century.”
A number of people got the right answer, and as a few of them told me, and I confirmed for myself, it was not that difficult to find the answer using Google. There is nothing wrong with using Google or any other search tool, and it is my fault for not realizing that the answer could be found so easily.
Some of the material in the Wikipedia entry for Messer Leon comes from the Jewish Encyclopedia, but not the sentence I quoted above. The second part of the sentence is in fact incorrect, as there is at least one other work by a living author printed in Hebrew in the fifteenth century. I refer to the Agur, by R. Jacob ben Judah Landau (died 1493). This work appeared sometime between 1487 and 1492, so Wikipedia tells us, and in this instance Wikipedia’s information comes from the Jewish Encyclopedia. These sources also tell us that “The ‘Agur’ was the first Jewish work to contain a rabbinical approbation, besides being the second Hebrew book printed during the author’s lifetime.”
Why then did a number of those who contacted me think that the Agur was the first book to appear in the author’s lifetime, rather than the second? Perhaps because in the Encyclopaedia Judaica entry “Haskamah”, which is reprinted here, we find the following incorrect statement: “The first haskamah appeared in the 15th century, in the Agur by Jacob Landau (Naples, c. 1490), the first Hebrew book printed during its author’s lifetime.”
Starting now, I will try to make my quiz questions a bit harder (i.e., not so easy to find the answers via Google). Here are the names of those who answered correctly on the last quiz: Shalom Leaf, Alex Heppenheimer, Leor Jacobi, Eric Lawee, Moshe Lapin, Shimon S., Ari Kinsberg, Yonason Rosman, Peretz Mochkin, Yehudah Hausman, Dovid Solomon
Since I can’t reward all of them, there will be a runoff. The following questions are to be answered only by them and only by emailing me the answer. If you can only answer one of the questions please do so.
A. What is the first volume of responsa published in the lifetime of its author?
B. There is a verse in the book of Exodus (hint: we haven’t yet reached it this year) which has a very strange vocalization of a word, found nowhere else in Tanach. (The word itself is also spelled in an unusual fashion, found only one other time in Tanach). The purpose of this vocalization is apparently in order to make a rhyme.[1] What am I referring to?
I had thought to ask: What is the first Hebrew work to use modern punctuation including question marks, but via Google I found the answer in a few seconds. So hopefully the answers to what I have asked are not so easily found.
2. I have a good deal more to say on themes discussed in the last post, which I will get to in future posts. But I have one piece of information that I think is quite significant (a real “chiddush”) and I don’t want to delay passing it on. It turns out that R. Schachter was too quick to add the correction in Nefesh ha-Rav. Here is an email I received by someone who prefers to remain anonymous.
I am not into writing reactions (Israelis call them “talkbacks”) on blogs, since I have not become accustomed to the 21st Century. But I want to give you a bit of information that is relevant to your discussion of Metzitza. I attended Rav Aharon Lichtenstein’s shiurim at Gruss for a number of years, and I clearly remember what he said on the subject during what the guys called “a press conference.” He said very clearly that the Rav was against any Metzitza at all, and he expressed this view explicitly at the brit of one of Rav Aharon’s sons. To me such a view makes lots of sense, if one understands that it is required in the gemara only because it was then thought that the lack of Metzitza was dangerous.(כי לא עביד סכנה הוא (שבת קלג,
3. Many people have mentioned to me the problems with the commenting feature (at least for those using Chrome). When you click on it, you often don’t see the most recent comments. One way to fix this is after you click to see the comments, where it says “Discussion” check “Newest” or “Oldest”, and everything will come up. We will try to come up with a fix for this.

[1] I am referring to the level of peshat, as I realize that all sorts of explanations based on derush, remez, and kabbalah can be offered. 



A Letter from R. Nathan Kamenetsky

A Letter from R. Nathan Kamenetsky
In response to my last post on the Seforim Blog, R. Nathan Kamenetsky sent me a long e-mail. Because of its value to those with an interest in the Lithuanian Torah world, I asked Rabbi Kamenetsky for permission to post it here, and he graciously agreed – Marc Shapiro
The central figure, albeit a mostly passive one, in the story I shall tell below is R’ Maisheh Finkel, one of the twin sons who were the youngest children of the Alter of Slabodka, born around 1887. The other twin was R’ Shmuel Finkel, whose son became a caterer in Chicago and is the father of the recently deceased son-in-law of R’ Bainish Finkel (son of the the Alter’s oldest son R’ Laizer-Yudel), R’ Noson-Zvi Finkel, a namesake of his great-grandfather the Alter of Slabodka who served as the Rosh of the mighty Yeshivat Mir of Jerusalem for about thirty years.
R’ Maisheh was far superior in Torah talent to his twin R’ Shmuel. Someone described to me R’ Maisheh’s learning pose; he would pace back and forth the length of the beit midrash, and if someone asked a good question, R’ Maisheh would give him one reply as he passed the questioner on the first time he transversed the beit midrash, then give him a second answer when he passed by him a second time, and a third answer when he passed him by for the third time. Raised by his mother – the Alteh lived in Kelem, not Slabodka, till the latter part of the first decade of the 20th century: see MOAG pp. 594-596 — the Alter had at first sent him to learn under R’ Baruch-Ber Leibowitz in Hlusk, and then brought him to Slabodka. R’ Maisheh married Zlateh, the daughter of the Slabodka Rosh Yeshiva, R’ Moshe-Mordkhai Epstein, in 1913, and was appointed as a maggid shiur in the Slabodka Yeshiva.
When the Slabodka Yeshiva opened a branch in the city of Chevron in the winter of 1925, R’ Maisheh was sent along with the first talmidim to be a maggid shiur there. The Alter himself came to Palestine in the summer of 1925 – not as the mashgiach, but as a retiree – and three months later, R’ Maisheh died. Chiddushei Torah of R’ Maisheh Finkel were published beginning in 1986 by R’ Chaim-Dov Altusky, Rabbi Pinchas Scheinberg’s late son-in-law, under the name “Chiddushei Hagram Mislabodka” (together with “Chiddushei Hamasbir”, with the last word created from the acronym of Harav Morainu Soloveitchik Ber Yosheh, Reb) on various massekhtot. Rabbi Altusky had gotten R’ Maisheh’s manuscripts from a (posthumous) daughter-in-law of R’ Maishe’s.
Before we go on with the story, I will quote Rabbi Altusky from one of the introductions of “Chiddushei Hagram Mislabodka” where he quotes R’ Yeruham Levovitz, celebrated Mashgiach of the Mirrer Yeshiva, as having written about R’ Maisheh: “I always said that in a generation which has a great timber as he (ilan gadol kamohu), Israel is not yet widowed (od lo alman Yisrael), and in his light shall we see radiance (b’oro nir’eh or).” Rabbi Altusky points out that R’ Yerucham wrote this when such greats as R’ Chaim-Ozer, R’ Shimon Shkop, R’ Baruch Ber Leibowitz and the Kovner Rav fully functioned; but Rabbi Altusky does not explain why it was R’ Maishe Finkel’s presence that assured R’ Yeruham that lo alman Yisrael. The Alter and his talmid R’ Yeruham saw the ideal gadol baTorah, the ilan hagadol, as one who is equally great in Torah and in Musar – and this combination was very rare to find. They both saw that R’ Maishe filled that prescription – also cf. MOAG pp. 805-806 on what the Alter thought of his son.
Verily, according to one of Altusky’s introductions, R’ Maisheh was “designated (m’yu’ad)” to succeed both his father as Mashgiach and his father-in-law as Rosh Yeshiva; this is surely something that his daughter-in-law had heard within the family and passed on, together with the manuscripts, to Rav Altusky. Also see MOAG pp. 756 and 765 that R’ Maisheh would be his father’s agent to carry through sensitive matters. [Do you, R’ Mailech, have my Improved Edition or only the original MOAG? The Improved Edition has a asterisked footnote on page 1278 regarding the Alter’s high estimation of his son and also pertains to the subject of your landmark book, viz., to R’ Yehiel-Yankev Weinberg.]
Now to the body of the story. I shall tell it in the way it came to me. My father had said several times, “The (Slabodka) Yeshiva was so dear to the Alter, that he would be willing to sacrifice a child for it.” I never understood what he meant by this Aqaidah metaphor (nor did I question my father about it) until I arrived in Israel and repeated it to R’ Laizer Goldschmidt, a dayyan on the Beit Din Hagadol and husband of Miriam nee Plachinsky, a granddaughter of the Alter of Slabodka, asking him what my father had meant. He explained that Slabodka talmidim attributed R’ Maisheh death at so early an age to his having broken his engagement to another girl in order to marry R’ Moshe-Mordkhai’s daughter. He had been engaged to Chava-Leah Hutner of Warsaw (who later became the wife of R’ Tzvi-Yehudah Kook). (You may look up MOAG pp. 791-798 where I conjecture that this breakup brought about [in a convoluted way] R’ Hatzqel Libshitz’s decision to turn down the rabbanut of Kovno – thus opening the door for R’ Avraham-Dober Kahana-Shapiro’s appointment.) Incidentally, when R’ Yitzchak Hutner, later of Yeshivat Rabbenu Chaim Berlin, came to study in Slabodka after WWI, the Alter was ill at ease with him because he was closely related to the jilted young lady, and had his major talmid R’ Avrohm Grodzinsky, by then part of the Musar-hanhalah – see MOAG p. 806 – deal with the neophyte.
And why did R’ Maisheh break up? Because the wife of the Rosh Yeshiva, R’ Moshe-Mordkhai, insisted on it: she insisted that R’ Maisheh marry her daughter Zlateh. The Alter of Slabodka felt that if he would enter into bad relations with (Menuhah Epstein, and hence with) R’ Moshe-Mordkhai, the yeshiva would suffer. And he was willing to sacrifice his son on the altar of Yeshivas Slabodka. It is said that when the Alter was told of his son’s demise, he repeated Job’s words (3:25) “What I greatly feared is come upon me; what I had apprehended has come on me.” In MOAG, I have an excursus on pp. 1061-1064 about the power certain wives of rashei yeshiva wielded in some old yeshivot – especially the Netziv’s (niece, who became his) second wife, sister of R’ Baruch Epstein. When R’ Maisheh broke his engagement, R’ Hayyim Soloveichik was angry with the Alter, saying, “For politics one does not embarrass a Jewish daughter” – see MOAG pp. 419-420.
But I had a problem: if Menuha Epstein was intent enough on having the ‘iluy Maisheh Finkel marry her daughter that she would have him break his earlier engagement, why did she allow him to get engaged to someone else to begin with? Why didn’t she interfere with Maisheh Finkel’s proposed shiddukhim immediately?. This was bothering me for a long time – until I heard another story about R’ Avrohm Kalmanowitz, of Va’ad Hatzalah fame, from a son of his sister, R’ Osher Katzman, an author of many popular articles in the Aguda monthly “Dos Yiddisheh Vort” (and whose son Eli’ezer is on the editorial board of “Yeshurun”).
R’ Avrohm Kalmanowitz had learned in Slabodka, having come there from the town of Aishishok (the town perpetuated by Yaffa Eliach) where he learned with its rav, Reb Zundel Hutner. In his famous speeches in the United States after WWII, Rav Kalmanowitz would often refer to his study sessions with Reb Zundel and would recall that they studied through the long commentaries of the Shakh in Section 25 of Hoshen Mishpat (about the laws of a judge who erred in his ruling) – and that Reb Zundel lamented that there is no one “nowadays” who learns thoroughly through the subject at which the Shakh had toiled so hard. R’ Avrohm then studied under Reb Laizer Gordon in Telz (see fn. t on p. 964 of MOAG), and, by the time he came under the wing of the Alter of Slabodka, he was already close to 20 years of age. By that time he had already completed the 4 Sections of the Shulkhan ‘Arukh. In fact, when he arrived in Slabodka, he would look down upon a bachur his age who had not completed covered as much Torah as he had. He was considered a ‘iluy in the yeshiva, and there was an ongoing debate among the talmidim of the Yeshiva on who was the greater ‘iluy, Avrohm Kalmonowitz or Aaron Sislovicher (later Kotler). In fact, when R’ Avrohm died, in 1964, two years after R’ Aaron Kotler, my father za”l remarked, “The last member of our chabhurah in Slabodka is gone.”
According to “Kulmos Hallev”, a volume about Rav Kalmanowitz and “his Da’ath Torah and spiritual fervor (sa’arot ruach)” (published by his family in Jerusalem, 1996), p. 4, R’ Zundel had spread his pupil’s fame as a “wondrous ‘iluy” and the Alter sent a wagon to fetch him and bring him to Slabodka; the Alter then arranged that he should learn together with his talented son R’ Maisheh. R’ Avrohm’s father,
who served as rav in Volhyn, in the town of Barashi, near Rogachov, once came to Slabodka to see how his son was faring. When the Alter told him, “He can already lead half the world,” he became upset, and said, “I sent him here to learn, not to lead.”
The story Katzman told was as follows: R’ Avrohm had gone home for Pesach, at a time when two shiddukhim were being proposed to him; one was a daughter of his rosh yeshiva R’ Moshe-Mordkhai Epstein, and the other was an orphaned daughter of the Rav of Rakov, a town between Volozhin and Minsk, and he had already met both young ladies. From home, he wrote out two envelopes addressed to the two female candidates, and then sat down to write out the letters he was planning to send them. First he wrote the letter to the Rakov girl and he put her letter into an envelope and took it to the post office. He then wrote a letter to the Epstein girl, and as he was putting the letter into the remaining envelope — woe is him! – he saw that the remaining envelope was the one addressed to Rakov. This meant that the letter to the Rakov girl would arrive at the home of the Epstein girl. He rushed to the post office and asked the postman to return the letter he had given him, but the postman refused. R’ Avrohm went on to offer the postman up to 10 Rubles to get his letter back, but the postman explained that the law is that once a letter is in his hand he must deliver it only to the addressee. In short, when the Rakov girl’s letter arrived in Slabodka, and the daughter of R’ Moshe-Mordkhai saw that Avrohm had even considered another shiddukh but herself, the proud granddaughter of the famous Kovno philanthropist R’ Shraga-Feivel Frank (cf. MOAG Index), was beside herself, and decided she would hear no more of Avrohm Kalmanowitz.
When I heard this story I pieced two and two together, to wit: in the winter of 1913, Rebbitzen Epstein was not interested in Maisheh Finkel because she had as good a catch, if not a better one, for her Zlateh in Avrohm Kalmanowitz, the latter being not only a great ‘iluy, but a tall, handsome and charismatic leader as well. So why should she care if R’ Baruch-Ber Leibowitz, by-this-time the Rosh Yeshiva of Knesset Beit Yitzchak, the “other”, non-Musar, yeshiva in Slabodka, had cast his eye on Maisheh for his daughter (see MOAG p. 525), and why should she care if Maisheh gets engaged to Chava-Leah Hutner of Warsaw? At the beginning of that winter, R’ Moshe-Mordkhai presented R’ Avrohm with an effusive Certificate of Ordination (Smikhah) testifying that he is “a wondrous baqi in all of Shas with Tospoth, and in the posqim, rishonim v’acharonim, as one of the greats of the generation.” The Certificate manuscript is pictured on the page facing page 1 of “Kulmos Hallev”, and is laid out in print on p. 5, together with ordinations by R’ Elya-Barukh Kamai, Rav of Mir, and R’ Rephael Shapiro of Volozhin, both awarded to R’ Avrohm about a month later than R’ Moshe-Mordkhai’s, the manuscripts of which are pictured on the page following p. 220 of “Kulmos”, the last page of the volume.
It is worth noting that in transcribing the manuscript of R’ Moshe-Mordechai, the family misread one word, for, after praising the ordainee as “yet from his youth he stood out as a wondrous ‘iluy,” the end of the fifth and beginning of the sixth written lines read: “Va’yiph va’yigdal va’yehi l’erez may’arzei Hatorah (he became beautiful and grew to become a cedar among the cedars of Torah),” while the printed transciption misreads the beginning of the quotation, that is, its first word, to: “Aph va’yigdal va’yehi (he also grew and became).” The family obviously did not realize that R’ Moshe-Mordkhai used the language of Ezekiel 31:7 which describes “a cedar of Lebanon, that is Assyria (Verse 3)” which “Va’yiph b’godlo (became beautiful in its greatness)” to describe R’ Avrohm who, after being a wondrous ‘iluy in his youth, grew to become a cedar-like tall and handsome young man and one of the Torah cedars of his generations. (I had seen the manuscript Smikhah before “Kulmos Hallev” was published, and I immediately connected R’ Moshe-Mordechai’s expression to Ezekiel. I’ll just add that R’ Moshe-Mordechai used the expression from his by-heart knowledge of the verse, and did not look up the verse in a Tanakh before penning it, else he would have spelled the word “va’yiph” with two Yoddim – and the family would not have been mislead to read his Vav and single Yod as an Aleph, “aph” instead of “va’yiph.)
I believe that R’ Moshe-Mordkhai wrote the extremely flattering Smikha when R’ Avrohm was a candidate to become his son-in-law, but R’ Avrohm obtained the other two smikhot soon thereafter because he was also interested in the Rakov girl whose hand was offered together with her late father’s rabbanut of the town of Rakov – as you know from the case of R’ Yehiel-Yankev Weinberg of Pilvishok, a town would keep its rabbinical post vacant until their deceased rav’s daughter would find a match suitable to take over the rabbinate. Therefore, R’ Avrohm sought out ordinations from well-known rabbanim who served in towns close to Rakov, not in faraway Slabodka. During the same winter that the Epsteins were sure that R’ Avrohm would close a shidduch with their Zlateh, R’ Maishe became engaged to the well-to-do and pedigreed Chava-Leah, daughter of R’ Yehudah-Laib Hutner, a Motz in Warsaw who also owned a printing company. After Avrohm’s Pesach blunder, Zlateh was left with a second-choice mate, one who was already engaged, Maisheh Finkel: her mother took care of the rest. Under the hand of the daughter-in-law who supplied Rav Altusky with R’ Maishe’s Torah manuscripts, I saw the ketubah of Zlateh and Maisheh: they were married two months after the Pesach debacle, in Sivan 5673 (June 1913), and one of the two witnesses thereon is my grandfather, R’ Bereh-Hirsh Heller, the “younger” mashgiach of the Slabodka Yeshiva. Rav Kalmanowitz went on to wed the Rakov girl and its rabbinate, and became known throughout his lifetime as “the Rakover Rav”. It is said that R’ Laizer Rabinowitz, who succeeded his father-in-law the Minsker Godol, R’ Yeruham-Yehudah-Laib Perlman, as Rav of Minsk, took no major action in that metropolis without first discussing it with Rav Kalmanowitz. The latter verily became a great Torah leader as the Alter had predicted.
I’ll end by doing justice to the historically underrated Rav Kalmanowitz. During the First World War, Rav Kalmanowitz organized aid for the refugees who streamed from Poland into Russia, as recorded at length in “Kulmos Hallev”. He also went on to become close to the Chafetz-Chaim and followed the latter’s guidance in klal Yisrael activism. When the Mirrer Yeshiva underwent a financial crisis, he became the major fundraising representative of the Mirrer Yeshiva in Europe, and then traveled to America on behalf of that yeshiva. Because he was not a simple executive director but a great talmid chakham, he was given the title of “Nasi” of that yeshiva, and was promised that he would eventually deliver shiurim therein. (Nowadays, many religious institutions raise their stature by claiming to be uner the “n’si’ut” of one gadol or another. But the first to hold that title was Rav Kalmanowitz, who not only contributed his good name to the Mirrer Yeshiva, but earned the title by literally saving it from collapse.)
But delivering shiurim in the Mirrer Yeshiva never worked out for R’ Avrohm. I conjecture that it was due to the opposition of Reb Yeruham Levovitz, the Mashgiach who shared at least equally with the Rosh Yeshiva, R’ Laizer-Yudel Finkel, the adulation of the talmidim. As a ba’al Musar who sought to raise the stature of bnai Torah who devoted themselves exclusively to Torah study, R’ Yeruham felt that super-activist Rav Kalmanowitz was an improper role model. (See MOAG pp. 573-576 that R’ Yeruham disagreed strongly with the Chafetz-Chaim’s approach to the training of yeshiva students.) Instead, the Mirrer Yeshiva fulfilled its obligation by providing a group of its outstanding talmidim to set up a kolel in Otwotzk (near Warsaw) for its Nasi to head. The Kalmanowitz family told me that R’ Avrohm always looked back at that time in his life when he sat and learned in the Mir-sponsored kolel as the happiest period of his lifetime.
In spite of this, Rav Kalmanowitz could not bring himself to shun the public arena for long. He returned to his activism and became Rav of Tiktin, an ancient and highly prestigious rabbanut. His many activities on behalf of Jewry and his prolific writings about them are recorded in “Kulmos Hallev”, a book which should be read by all bnai Torah. When the Second World War broke out, he happened to be fundraising in the United States, and there became the linchpin of the Vaad Hatzalah organization. Among other accomplishments, he raised the monetary means to sustain the Mirrer Yeshiva throughout its Shanghai exile. In connection with this supreme achievement, there is a famous vort which R’ Avrohm expounded. He asked: why did the lion claw and injure Noah when he was once late feeding it in the Ark, when, after all, he had fed it in time all the other meals? And he answered: there can be no excuse for treating the very last lion in the world in any manner less than royally. Rav Kalmanowitz used this bon mot when asking people to contribute to saving the last yeshiva remaining when the Jewish world was destroyed with the onset of the war.
I’ll end with an exchange between gedolim that R’ Yankel Leshinsky witnessed and relayed to me. The three Slabodka talmidim, R’ Reuven Grozovsky, R’ Avrohm Kalmanowitz, and R’ Aaron Kotler were meeting in the Vaad Hatzalah office, and a heated argument broke out between Rav Kalmanowitz and Rav Aaron Kotler as to which course of action to take. Rav Kalmanowitz lost his composure and said, “Listen R’ Aaron, if I had sat and learned all the years as you did, I would have been greater than you.” To which R’ Reuven retorted, “Yes, R’ Avrohm, but R’ Aaron did learn!” The point is that Rav Kalmanowitz sacrificed the pinnacle of personal rank in favor of the public needs: and he was never properly appreciated for it.