“Ha’Rotzeh Lichanek, Hitaleh B’Ilan Gadol”: Notes on some Literary forgeries of Jewish works in the the Late Modern Period (1756-1965)

By Ezra Brand

Ezra Brand is an independent researcher based in Tel Aviv. He has an MA from Revel Graduate School at Yeshiva University in Medieval Jewish History, where he focused his research on 13th and 14th century sefirotic Kabbalah. He is interested in using digital and computational tools in historical research. He has contributed a number of times previously to the Seforim Blog (tag), and a selection of his research can be found at his Academia.edu profile. He can be reached at ezrabrand-at-gmail.com; any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.

Introduction

Jewish literary forgeries are a topic often discussed on the Seforim Blog, especially in the postings of Dr. Marc Shapiro (see the tag “Literary Forgery” for some of the relevant posts).[1] A “literary forgery” refers to a writing which claims to have been written by a certain, usually respected, figure, while in fact written by a later, usually much lesser known, writer.

A recent collection of articles on forgeries states: “There has been a growth in the number of publications dedicated to fakes and forgeries for around thirty years now, many of which have focused on books and literary works.”[2]

The classic source regarding literary forgeries in Jewish writing is that of the Talmud Bavli, Pesachim 112a:

חמשה דברים צוה ר”ע את רבי שמעון בן יוחי כשהיה חבוש בבית האסורין […] אמר לו אם בקשת ליחנק היתלה באילן גדול.

Translation by Koren-Steinzaltz, as appears in Sefaria website (bold in the original translation):

“Rabbi Akiva commanded Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai to do five matters when Rabbi Akiva was imprisoned […] if you wish to strangle yourself, hang yourself on a tall tree.

Koren-Steinzaltz translation adds the explanation:

“This proverb means that if one wants others to accept what he has to say, he should attribute his statement to a great man.”

This interpretation is based on Rashi’s explanation:

“אם בקשת ליחנק – לומר דבר שיהיה נשמע לבריות ויקבלו ממך. היתלה באילן גדול – אמור בשם אדם גדול.”

According to Rashi’s interpretation, this source permits fabricating a quote from an authority in order to be believed.[3] 

Based on this interpretation, the term often used in rabbinic writing for “forging” in someone else’s name is “תלה ב”, literally “hung on X”, meaning “ascribed (falsely) to X”.

The great scholar of Mishpat Ivri, Nahum Rakover, devotes a portion of his book on intellectual property in halacha, to a discussion of the sources that permit fabricating a quote from an authority in order to be believed.[4]

Some recent historians seem to imply that the 19th century saw a relative uptick in Jewish literary forgeries. Golda Akhiezer, in a 2018 article on Jewish historical forgeries in the 19th century, writes:[5]

One of the paradoxes of European cultural life of the nineteenth century, especially in the Russian Empire, was a combination of two parallel yet apparently conflicting processes: the emergence and increasing importance of modern science and the rise of multifarious forgeries of historical documents.”[6]

It should be pointed out that this isn’t truly paradoxical. Anthony Grafton famously noted the deep relationship between critical scholarship and forgeries.[7]

Ira Robinson also implies an uptick in Jewish literary forgeries in the 19th century, and gives a somewhat different theory as to why this time period gave rise to so many forgeries:

By the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries, the highly charged ideological atmosphere, as well as an ever-growing demand for Jewish books, engendered a situation in which there was great temptation to manufacture documents.[8]

However, it is remains speculative whether in fact there were a relatively larger number of Jewish literary forgeries in the 19th century. This question awaits a more quantitative study of the topic.[9]

Table of Notable Forgeries

It’s important to note that this list is not to be comprehensive. Rather, it’s a collection of especially notable forgeries, and some notes on them. I hope to update this list at a later date, and of course happy to hear suggestions.

Title	Editor	Earliest date (terminus post quem)	Previous posts and bibliography
Divrei Gad Ha’Chozeh	Leopold Immanuel Jacob van Dort	1756	10
Mishle Asaf (haskamot)	Isaac Satanov	1783-1791	11
Besamim Rosh	Saul Berlin	1793	12
Ramschak Chronicle	Marcus Fischer	1828	13
Zekher Tzaddikim	Mordecai Sultansky	1841	14
Sefer Avnei Zikaron	Abraham Firkovich	1845-1872	15
The Roads of Jerusalem	Eliakim Carmoly	1847	16
Sefer Ha’Eshkol	R’ Zvi Binyamin Auerbach	1863	17
Baraita de-Ma’aseh Bereshit	Lazarus Goldschmidt	1894	18
The Protocols of the Elders of Zion	series of articles in Russian newspaper	1903
Goral HaAsiriyot (1904); Seder Hagada Le’Maharal (1905); Nifla’ot Maharal (1909); Refa’el HaMalach (1911); Tiferet Maharal MiShpoli (1912); Hoshen Mishpat (1913); Divrei HaYamim Asher LiShelomo HaMelech (1914); and more	R’ Yehudah Yudel Rosenberg	1904-1914	19
Yerushalmi on Kodshim	Solomon Judah Friedlander	1907–1909	20
Genizat Kherson		1922	21
Der Prager Golem (1917); Kovetz Michtavim Mekori’im MiHaBesht VeTalmidav (1923); Heichal LeDivrei Chazal (1948); Sefer Dovev Siftei Yeshenim (1959-1965)	Chaim Bloch	1917-1965	22
Kol Hator	R’ Shlomo Zalman Rivlin	1939	23

Forgers

There are two works whose genre can be described as “halachic”: Saul Berlin’s Besamim Rosh (1793) and R’ Zvi Binyamin Auerbach’s Sefer Ha’Eshkol (1863).

It is quite noticeable that perpetrators of literary forgery of Jewish texts were especially prominent outside of mainstream Orthodox Judaism, and created their forgeries for polemical reasons: Karaites (forgeries of Sultan and Firkovich), Maskilim, and anti-Semites (Protocols of the Elders of Zion).

Forgery of tendentious works relating to history are especially common:[24]

1. Forged tombstone inscriptions and manuscript colophons (Firkovich)
2. Forged chronicles (Sultanski ; Ramschak Chronicle)
3. Forged travelogue (The Roads of Jerusalem of R’ Isaac Hilu)
4. Forged protocols of meetings (Protocols of Elders of Zion)
5. Forged letters (Genizat Kherson ; Bloch’s Kovetz Michtavim and more)[25]
6. Fake stories (Rosenberg ; Bloch)

Bloch and Rosenberg, who create forgeries for popular entertainment purposes, are closer to the end of the date range, and both made prominent forgeries about the golem of the Maharal: Bloch’s The Letter of the Maharal on the Creation of the Golem (1923) and Rosenberg’s Nifla’ot Maharal. For Bloch, the polemical motivation of anti-Zionism played a role in other forgeries.

Isaac Satanow is the most playful, self-aware forger of them all. He even added fake “haskamot” to his Zohar Chibura Tinyana from well-known late 18th-century rabbinic figures (R’ Yosef Teomim and R’ Chaim Halberstam of Sanz), having the haskamot point out the possibility that Satanov himself wrote the works, but giving halachic justification for the permissibility of forgery.[26]

Rakover, in his book Zekhuyot Yotzrim (cited above), was misled by Satanow. In his discussion of permissibility in halacha of false quotation and literary forgery,[27] Rakover quotes the “haskamot” to Satanov’s as showing that forging is halachically permitted. It appears that Rakover wasn’t aware that the haskamot themselves are most likely forged.

Two of the first forgers discussed here, Saul Berlin and Isaac Satanow, had similar ideologies, and. Satanow may have assisted in fabricating Besamim Rosh.[28]

Conclusion

The issue of Jewish literary forgeries has received further prominence recently in the scholarship of R’ Moshe Hillel. R’ Hillel has written a number of works exposing forgeries. His most famous work is on Divrei Gad HaHozeh, a work purporting to be from the times of King David, published from an 18th century manuscript by Professor Meir Bar-Ilan in 2015. R’ Hillel argues that it is in fact an 18th century forgery.[29]

Hillel also wrote a book earlier this year called Hazon Tavrimon devoted to R’ Yakov Moshe Toledano (1880-1960), dealing with various historical documents that Toledano “discovered”, demonstrating that they are fake.[30]

Computer algorithms have also played a role in detecting forgeries, or refuting allegations of forgery, most prominently in the work of Professor Moshe Koppel. Some of this work has been featured in the Seforim Blog.[31] Hopefully, this software will be further refined to shed light on additional works that have been accused of being forged, to supplement the traditional tools used for proving authenticity on the one hand, and uncovering forgeries on the other.

Words for the Wise: Sixty-Two Insights on Hebrew, Holidays, History and Liturgy by Mitchell First

By Eliezer Brodt

The Seforim Blog is proud to announce the publication of our frequent contributor Mitchell First’s newest book Words for the Wise: Sixty-Two Insights on Hebrew, Holidays, History and Liturgy (264 pp.).

Words for the Wise contains 62 short articles address interesting questions about the Hebrew language, Jewish history, and liturgy. For example:

On Liturgy, 8 articles, including the origin of and insights into Shalom Aleikhem, Anim Zemirot, and Maoz Tzur.

On Holidays, 9 articles, including the origin of the recital of Le-David Hashem Ori, the underlying meanings of the words lulav, atzeret, and Pesaḥ, and the background to the Fast of Gedaliah.

On History, 18 articles, including a history of the city of Acco, and on the lives of Rashbam, Judah Touro, Golda Meir, and Yigael Yadin, and on an important manuscript of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah.

On Hebrew, 27 articles, including insights into the roots ישן ,חול ,זמר ,זהר and רגע, the etymology of the word ממזר, the meaning of כתונת פסים, and interesting words in Hallel.

The book can be ordered here and here.

A review of the book can be seen here.

Here are the Table of Contents:

 

Hebrew Printing in Lissa (Leszno), A Brief (Perchance) Transitory Moment

 By Marvin J. Heller[1]

Jewish history is replete with cities, locations, that in their time were centers of Jewish life, replete with communal activities and prominent sages, but sadly, are poorly recalled today, if at all, except in academic and historical circles. One such location is Lissa, Leszno in Polish. Given its relative prominence, Lissa is unusual in that, unlike many similar locations, it was not home to a prominent Hebrew press. Lissa did, perchance, host a printing press for a brief period of time, and that press, together with the books it is credited with publishing, is the subject of this article.

Lissa (Leszno) is located in the Poznan district of Prussia, or, depending on one’s perspective, in the Wielkopolska province of Poland.[2] Previously a village, Lissa was incorporated as a town in 1534, granted a charter by Count Andreas Lescynski, whose descendants include Stanislas Leszczynski, King of Poland (1704-1709). Jewish settlement followed soon after, the settlers likely coming from Germany, having such names as Auerbach and Oldenburg, and several decades later from Silesia. There were Jews prior to that time, however, as communal records record a coronation tax in 1507.

There are contradictory reports as to Jewish settlement, one noting that the Jewish community was granted a charter in 1580, and at about that time a synagogue and a cemetery were established. Another recounting informs that the privilege granted to the Jewish community is dated March 10, 1626, and the earliest preserved tombstone dates to 1662/67. The Jewish population of Lissa consisted of approximately 5,000 Jews in 1765 (about 15% of the town’s population); one of the largest Jewish communities in the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth.

The Lissa (Leszno) community had business relations with Breslau as early as 1650. By 1740 Jewish merchants outnumbered non-Jews; by 1793, 40 of the 53 merchants were Jewish, as were 200 of the 201 brokers. Similarly, by 1800, 32 of the 51 tailors were Jews, while others were smelters, tanners, furriers, and embroiderers. Products such as woven goods, furs, and hides reached Moscow and the Turkish borders. After the second partition of Poland and the absorption of Lissa into Prussia in 1793, the community, deprived of its markets in Poland and Russia, began to decline, falling as low as 804 in 1913.

Jewish life was not entirely pacific. The Jewish community of Lissa suffered during tah-ve-tat (the Chmielnicki massacres of 1648-49) and during the second Swedish war which forced the Jews to temporarily flee in 1659. In the Northern War (1706–07), the community underwent extra exactions from both sides, suffering plunder and rape from Russian soldiers, the entire Jewish quarter being burned. In 1709, there was a plague and Jews were accused, by bringing the corpse of a Jew to be buried, of infecting the town with the plague. There were several subsequent events, including devastating fires in which Jewish homes and synagogues were destroyed.

All this notwithstanding, Lissa became a center of Jewish life in Greater Poland in the mid-eighteenth century, renowned throughout Europe for its rabbinic sages and yeshivot. Among the prominent rabbinic sages who served in Lissa are R. Isaac Eilenburg, R. Jacob Isaac ben Shalom; Isaac ben Moses Gershon; R. Ephraim Kalisch; Mordecai ben Ẓevi Hirsch; the latter’s brother, R. Abraham Abusch Lissa; R. David Tevele; R. Jacob Lorbeerbaum, and from 1864 to 1912 R. Samuel Baeck. Also associated with Lissa is R. Akiva Eger, who studied in Lissa from 1780 to 1790.

Given the above, it would be surprising if there was not a Hebrew press in Lissa. Nevertheless, Lissa’s subsequent history, would suggest that locating a press there in the early decades of the nineteenth century is also, perchance, surprising, as will be addressed later. Concerning the Lissa press, Yeshayahu Vinograd records eight entries for it in his Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book.[3] Those works are all small, in octavo format, generally booklets at best. One additional work, not recorded in the Thesaurus as a Lissa imprint, but so listed by the National Library of Israel, is R. Joseph Yuspa Hirschfeld’s Yad Yosef.

We come now as why the Hebrew press in Lissa is referred to in the article title as “Brief (Perchance) and Transitory.” In contrast to the above record of Lissa imprints, Ch. Friedberg, in his History of Hebrew Typography, does not have an entry for Lissa, but rather subsumes the publications credited to that city to his entry for Dyhernfurt (Dyhernfurth) writing concisely in a footnote, that “the printers intentionally give the place of printing on several title-pages as Lissa in place of Dyhernfurth for reasons that are unclear. There is no doubt that these books were printed in their entirety in Dyhernfurth.”[4] That location is in Lower Silesia, a community approximately 50 miles (80 km.) distant from Lissa. It had, at times, been under Austrian (Hapsburg) rule, subsequently considered part of Poland and of Prussia.

Dyhernfurth was home to a press that had previously been very successful, beginning with Shabbetai Bass (1641-1718) who established a Hebrew press there in 1689. In the more than ensuing century, Hebrew presses in Dyhernfurth printed numerous titles including individual tractates from the Talmud, as well as two complete editions of the Talmud. However, the second edition of the Talmud, printed from 1816 through 1824, was not successful.[5] The then current Hebrew press, that of David Sklower and Naphtali Zevi ben Moses David Hochmavitz, was forced to close. Part of the typographical equipment fell to Sklower who relocated to Breslau and afterwards to Warsaw. The remaining typographical equipment went, in 1821, to R. Zevi Hirsch ben Meir Katz, known as Warschauer.

It is Warschauer who is credited as the Hebrew printer in Lissa (Leszno). It is his name that appears on the title-pages of several of the books that give Lissa as the place of publication. Friedberg, as noted above, writes that these books were actually Dyhernfurth imprints. Friedberg references an article in the Soncino-Blãtter by Dr. Louis Lewin who writes, in considerably greater detail, that it has escaped notice that the Lissa type is consistently Dyhernfurth type and “dass sie durchgangig Dyhernfurther Typen aufweisen, eilweise nur Fortfetzung eines Dyhernfurther Druckes sind . . . (that it is partially only a continuation of the Dyhernfurth press)”. Furthermore, a Lissa ליסא press being concealed, only alluded to by the phrase Gedruckt in der hebrãischen “Buchdruckerei.”

Lewin continues that works such as the Mahzor are either a reprint of the popular and much reprinted Heidenheim Machzorim or a plagiarism of an author whose authorship is disputed. He is also dismissive of the women’s prayer books, not consequential works. Lewin also observes that no mention is made of the press in the Lissa commuity news or in other contenporary Lissa docments. concluding that “all these prints must be “Es mńssen darum alle diese Drucke als Pseudo-Lissaer”not noted in Jewish literature. But ratherליססא , the names of the print shop owners and staff echte Dyhernfurther bezeichnet werden, deren Druckherren die Brūder Hirsch und Markus Warschauer waren (described as pseudo-Lissaer and actually Dyhernfurth imprints, the printers being the brothers Hirsch and Markus Warsawer).[6]

Interestingly. Friedberg, in his bibliographical lexicon, Beit Eked Sefarim, records these Lissa imprints without modifying notation.[7] Other bibliographers also record Lissa imprints without qualifications. For example, Aron Freiman, in A Gazetteer of Hebrew printing, records Joseph Hirschfeld’s Lekitat Yosef as the first Lissa imprint.[8]

At this time, that is the early nineteenth century, there was a prohibition in Austria on the publication of several categories of Hebrew books, particularly Hasidic and kabbalistic books as well as Yiddish works. Lissa, however, although previously part of the Habsburg domain, appears to have been apart from that realm at this time. When those prohibitions were in effect, Hebrew printers attempted to circumvent them by either by backdating books to a period prior to its imposition of the prohibition or giving a false publication place on the title-page. However, the books credited to the Lissa press, with a rare exception, do not appear to fall into the prohibited categories and should not, therefore, have required any prevarication.[9]

As noted above, only a small number of titles are credited to the Lissa press. The titles described are indicative of the market to which this small press directed its publications. It did not publish large works, such as Talmudic tractates or major halakhic treatises. Rather its publications are small books addressed and of value to the general population.

La-Yesharim Tehillah – Among the first titles published by the press is La-Yesharim Tehillah, a drama by the renowned kabbalist R. Moses Hayyim Luzzatto’s (Ramhal, 1707–1746). Ramhal is best known today for his Mesillat Yesharim, a popular and much studied ethical masterpiece. La-Yesharim Tehillah (Praise to the Upright), a very different composition, is one of Ramhal’s last works. It is an allegory, expressing the feelings of persecution he experienced due to controversy about him, and reflecting his belief in the ultimate victory of the just. This edition was published in octavo format (8⁰: 72 pp.).

1824, La-Yesharim Tehillah

The title-page, which has no ornamentation, neither decorative borders nor a printer’s mark, states:

La-Yesharim Tehillah
Shir Yididos

On the day of the wedding of the sage, the wise, כהר”ר [the honorable rabbi]
Jacob Di-Gais יצ“ו [may his Rock and Redeemer watch over him]
With the bride, the virgin, the modest
Lady Rachel De Vega Enriques יצ“ו [may her Rock and Redeemer watch over her]

I, the young Moses Hayyim ben Jacob Hayyin Luzzatto, have written it.
First printed in Amsterdam in 1740
And printed a second and third time in Berlin in 1780
And in the year
[5]584 (1824) לב“ע [From the creation of the World].
LISSA
At the press of the partners, Gabridor Warschauer, and Company.
At the expense of the exalted R. Lipman of Koenigsberg.

The title, La-Yesharim Tehillah, is from the verse “[Sing forth, O you righteous, to the Lord; it is fit that] the upright [acclaim, praise] Him” (Psalms 33:1); the subtitle, is from “For the leader; on the shoshannim by the son of the Korah, A maskil, a song of endearment (A Love Song, Shir Yididos” (Psalms 45:1).

The title-page is followed by prefatory material set in rabbinic letters, among them introductions, one from R. Solomon ben Joel of Duvno, descriptions of the allusions in the play, a list of the characters, and the play. The text is in square vocalized Hebrew. La-Yesharim Tehillah, Ramhal’s third and last play, was written in Amsterdam and represents the climax of his dramatic art. The play is an allegory in three acts of four, five and six scenes. [10] An example of the text,

Understanding: O Uprightness, Beloved of my soul, let thy heart take courage; like a girdle gird on strength! For when assistance seems far away, relief comes suddenly to us. When in the blazing heat, in summer drought, the sky is covered with thick darkness of the clouds whose thunder roaring makes the earth beneath to quake; when lightning flashes like an arrow; when the wind rends the mounts, as thought they were earthen pitchers . . . then the beasts of the forest all together take refuge, and all the young doves flee into the clefts of rocks. . . .

Uprightness: O understanding, of joy of my heart, thy comforting has surely enlarged my heart. For now it seems as though from the words of thy mouth I behold an opening for my hope. But be so kind, if thou hast good tidings. Withhold it not from me.[11]

A popular and much reprinted work, the Bet Eked Sepharim records twenty-six editions through 1949. According to the Bet Eked Sepharim this is the eighth edition, not the fourth printing of La-Yesharim Tehillah.[12]

Likitat Yosef – Also printed in 1824 and, reportedly, again in 1826 is R. Joseph Yuspa ben Tzvi Hirsch Hirschfeld’s Likitat Yosef, a linguistic work, a Hebrew-Yiddish Dictionary with references to Biblical verse for instructing children.[13] This too is an octavo ([6], 61, [1] ff.). The publishers are given as Medihernfort and Kamp. Hirschfeld (d. 1848), a pedagogue, is credited with three additional works, Yad Yosef (below), Middot ha-Derashot Halakah (Berlin, 1840), and Shir ha-Yahid (Berlin, 1833), on prayer and zemirot.[14] Another work, recorded by William Zeitlin is Bechinath Olam (Berlin, 1838), “Reflections on the world and its inhabitants by R. Jedaya Penini. …”[15]

The title-page of Likitat Yosef is formatted in the same manner as La-Yesharim Tehillah, that is, without ornamentation. However, unlike the preceeding work, which is dated in a straight forward manner, Likitat Yosef is dated with a chronogram, “‘Accursed is the one who moves the boundary of his fellow ארור מסיג גבול רעהו (584 = 1824)’ (Deuteronomy 27:17) for fifteen years.” The restriction on reprinting Likitat Yosef is highly unusual, not because it states the time limit for reprinting the work, but due to its mention on the title-page rather than in an approbation, which is the customary way of restricting unauthorized republication, and that it is used as the dating chronogram. The title-page states that it is:

Sefer
Likitat Yosef
A key
To finding pleasing items,
One language and other things[16]
Hebrew . . . words from
Yuspa Hirschfeld
Preschool teacher . . .
Printed
Here, in the crowned city
LISSA
“Accursed is the one who moves the boundary of his fellow” (584 = 1824) for fifteen years.
At the press of the partners from Dyhernfurth, Medihernfort and Kamp

The title-page is followed by the introduction which begins “‘A wise man has his eyes in his head’ (Ecclesiastes (2:14), an understanding scale in his hand, and the roots of understanding branch out in his eyes. He will see that ‘My heart overflows with a goodly theme’ (Psalms 45:2): to teach the young of the children of Israel ‘a clear language’ (Zephaniah 3:9).” Hirschfeld continues on the importance and value of the youth of Israel learning the language well, on a daily basis. The heart of the wise person values this in contrast to the fool who has no appreciation. Hirschfeld states that due to his love of brevity he has not expounded on words at length

There is a brief postscript in which Hirschfeld references his father, R. Tzvi Hirsch, followed by a brief statement from the printer who states that it is not as leket shikhhah, the forgotten gleanings from the field, but rather is selections all pure. Below is an acronym, the first letter of each line spelling Joseph Yuspa. Next is a list of sixty-three contributors (sponsors) arranged by city in German (Fraktur), that is, Breslau (22), Posen (17), Lissa (14), Krotoschin (6), Wortenborg (2), and D. Ostrowo (2).

1824, Likitat Yosef

The text is set in two columns, arranged alphabetically. Within each column words are given in Hebrew in square vocalized letters with their explanation in Yiddish set in a smaller font comprised of a mixture of Vaybertaytsh and rabbinic letters. Synonyms are given in order and words are organized by letters of the alphabet and vowels, for example, ayin patach, ayin segol, for example

Likitat Yosef has been reprinted several times, beginning, as noted above, with a reported second Lissa edition (1826), Vienna (1825), and again in Vienna (1835).[17]

Tehinat Imahot; Techina Shlosha She’arim – Our next Lissa titles are two small octavo tehinot, that is, Tehinat Imahot ([8] ff.) by Hadas, the wife of the late R. Yudel of Hadzish and Techina Shlosha She’arim ([16] ff.), no author given. Both were printed, respectively, in 1824 and 1825, by the Hebraisher Buchdruckerei (Hebrew book printers) with the same title-page format as noted above.

Tehinnot are described by A. Idelsohen as private devotions, often the source for later public prayers. They are a personal, spontaneous and inspired form of expression representing the craving of the soul. They may be understood as in keeping with Berakhot (28b), which states, “do not make your prayer routine, but rather free supplications and petitions before God.” Tehinnot were written through the ages by men of piety; they have been described as a “rivulet of that warm and soulful outpouring [that] never ran dry in Israel.” They have been written through the generations to express plights, needs, wishes, and aspirations which move the heart. Originally in Hebrew, they have been written in all languages spoken by Jews. Tehinnot in Yiddish were mainly for women and those unfamiliar with Hebrew. In many cases tehinnot were published in book form.[18]

Similarly, Meyer Waxman writes that “Tehinoth were the special medium of devotion of the women of Israel and were adapted . . . both in form and content to their needs. Generation after generation of pious souls had poured forth their hearts before their Maker and pleaded for the health and welfare of their near and dear ones in the semi-lyrical language of these supplication prayers.” He notes their varied nature, describing them as heterogenous, addressing all phases of life, supplications in an intimate tone.[19]

The text of both or our tehinot are set in Vaybertaytsh, a semi-cursive type generally but not exclusively, reserved for Yiddish books, so named because these works were most often read by the less educated and women. They were clearly meant for an Ashkenazi audience, for books in Vaybertaytsh were certainly not directed or intelligible to a market outside that community, but also evidence that that market was sufficiently large enough to justify the publication of works for a particular element of rather than for the entire Jewish community.[20]

The title-page of Tehinat Imahot (mother’s supplications) states that it is a collection of prayers of life, continuing in Yiddish that it is with the merit of our fathers and mothers and the Lord who has given us years of life through honorable deeds. The text is in a single column, set in Vaybertaytsh.

Techina Shlosha She’arim is in three parts, as noted on the title-page, that is, hallah, niddah, and lighting Sabbath candles; Shabbat and Rosh Hodesh; and the Yamim Nora’im. The text, set in a single column in Vaybertaytsh, excepting headings and introductory lines, is comprised of both prayers and brief halakhic notes. The references to hallah, niddah, and lighting Sabbath candles concerns the taking of a portion of bread for an offering; niddah, the monthly menstrual separation; and hadlaka, lighting the Friday evening Sabbath candles. The importance of these activities is based on Shabbat 31a, which states “For three transgressions woman die in childbirth. Because they are not observant [of the laws] of Niddah, Hallah, and lighting of Sabbath candles.”

1825, Techina Shlosha She’arim

This is the only edition of Tehinat Imahot. This is the first edition of Techina Shlosha She’arim; it has been reprinted numerous times, the Thesaurus records twenty-one editions.[21]

Yad Yosef – Our second R. Joseph Yuspa Hirschfeld title is Yad Yosef. This, the first edition, is not, as noted above, recorded in the Thesaurus as a Lissa imprint but rather as having been printed in Vienna at the press of Anton Schmidt in 1826. Friedberg, in the Bet Eked, does record this edition as a Lissa imprint.[22] It was published as a duodecimo (12⁰: [2], III-VI, [VII-XII], 216, [2] pp.). The title-page, which does not name Lissa as the place of publication, follows the style of the other Lissa imprints, that is, with a simple title-page devoid of ornamentation. It describes Yad Yosef as the names of the persecuted שמות הנרדפים for which there are references. It is dated “And we will rejoice in the words of your Torah ונשמח בדברי תורתך (588 = 1828).” The colophon dates completion of the work to Wednesday, Rosh Hodesh Heshvan, in the year “Happy is the one who waits אשרי המחכה (589 = October 8, 1828)” (Daniel 12:12).

Yad Yosef reads from left to right, like a German book. Nevertheless, it begins with a Hebrew title-page followed a multi-page vorrede (preface) in German followed by a second lengthy preface in Hebrew. The former has an image of justice, sitting blindfolded with a sword in one hand, scales in the other. Below it is Hebrew text that states,

“See for yourselves how my eyes
lit up when I tasted that bit of honey” (I Samuel 14:29)
“If my anguish were weighed” )Job 6:2) on the matter.
“My full calamity laid on the scales” )Job 6:2) and for my heart suffices.

Repeated below it are those verses in German. The Hebrew introduction begins in a light manner that might perchance be meant to be humorous or sarcastic, stating that “it is well known, especially to those who love words of acumen אמרי בינה that it is the custom for a work, small or large, to have a have a brief summary of the book’s topic – to place words in the mouth of the reader, his eyes to see, his eyelids discern the apology, and quickly find the object of his desire.” He then continues, begins, in a more serious vein,

that he “has walked in their footsteps and prepared a lexicon, also I – and this work (letter) I gathered with great diligence, nights as days, with exertion for the honor of the Torah and those who study it: who love and cherish it the beloved! “The teaching of the LORD is perfect” (Psalms 19:8), in it are written and I have found the reasons of DIFFERENT WORDS IN EXPRESSION AND TOUGHT – I have arranged them alphabetically . . .

1828, Yad Yosef

The introduction is followed by the text, set from left to right, comprised of Hebrew works and concise bi-lingual references. Entries are brief, the Hebrew word in the center in square vocalized letters, to the left a source of the term in rabbinic letters, and to the right a translation in German and biblical source. Three examples of the text, one only with a reference, that to Rashi, from the above image, are:

כביר ע’ רש’י ובאור – Matratze. 1. Sam 19. 13.

ענג Lust, Wohlleben. Jes. 58. 13

תענוג Vergnūgen. Sprūch. 19. 10.

כביר – Matratze. 1. Sam 19. 13. which refers to the verse “Michal then took mannequins and placed them in the bed, and she put a כביר goat-skin at its head and covered it with a cloth.” (I Samuel 19:13).

ענג Lust, Wohlleben. Jes. 58. 13 (If you restrain your foot because it is the Sabbath, refrain from accomplishing your own needs on My holy day; if you proclaim the Sabbath ענג ‘a delight’ and the holy [day] of the Lord ‘honored’ and you honor it by not engaging in your own affairs, from or discussing the forbidden: seeking your own needs.” (Isaiah 58:13)

תענוג Vergnūgen. Sprūch. 19. 10. תענוג Pleasure does not befit a fool; surely [it is not fitting for] a servant over dignitaries. (Proverbs 19:10).

Yad Yosef concludes with a multi-page bi-lingual Hebrew-German Oeffentliche Danksagung (public thanksgiving) addressed to Tobias Marcus and L. Mende, an example below:

Let your home be wide open, and let the poor be members of your household. (Avot 1:5)
Dein Haus sei offen, Fremde aufaunehmen, um Gastfreiheit an ihnen su üben; achte sie wie deine Hausgebornrn.”

Open your hand to the poor and needy kin in your land (Deuteronomy 15:11)
Thue deine Hand auf gegen deinen Bruder, de Arman und Dürftigen in deinem Lande.

Yad Yosef has been reprinted twice, in Frankfurt on the Oder (1828) and in Berlin (1830).[23]

A final word on Joseph Yuspa Hirschfeld. Moritz Steinschneider has an entry for Joseph Hirschfeld, which begins “Privatlehrer in Schweria a. d. Warte. [Postena Berol. etc. Mrt. mense Decmbr. A1848. – Autor suspectus,” that is he describes Hirschfeld as a private tutor and concludes that the authorship is suspect.[24] No reason is given for that suspicion and in the absence of any supporting or contradictory evidence Steinschneider’s position remains open, unresolved.

Also attributed to the Lissa press is a Mahzor, dated 1824, not seen by the author. Perchance, this is the Heidenheim Mahzor referred to by Lewin. Another work credited to the press, although its date distances it from the general period of activity of the subject press, is R. Saul Isaac ben Ahron Jacob Kaempf’s Toldot Rabbi Akiva Eger, dated 1838. Also noted is another undated edition of Techina Shlosha She’arim.

We now return to the subject of perchance, that is, whether there was a press in Lissa or, as Dr. Lewin suggests, the books attributed to Lissa were actually printed in Dyhernfurth. Lewin was a respected scholar and his reservations need be taken seriously. However, upon inspection, his contention does not appear to be convincing.

Among his arguments for a Dyhernfurth publication site for the books attributed to Lissa are the likeness of the fonts in the books printed in both locations. However, likeness of fonts is not a strong argument: not only is type available to more than one press from a foundry, but more likely Warschauer took typographical equipment with him when relocating to Lissa, as did Sklower when he relocated to Breslau. Similarly, there is no reason why the worker’s names, not noted in the colophons, is any more suggestive of Dyhernfurth than Lissa, nor does the insufficient description of the press seem sufficient evidence to question its location. That the women’s prayer books appear to be inconsequential to Lewin does not detract from their communal value or suggest that they were printed elsewhere. That the press is not mentioned in communal news or documents may be because the press was not consequential. It might be well asked, if the Lissa press was in Dyhernfurth, why is it not mentioned in their communal records, or, finally, what was to be gained by concealing the press’s location.

On the other hand, just as Sklower left Dyhernfurth for Breslau so did Warschauer leave Dyhernfurth for Lissa. That the press appears to have done poorly there actually supports a Lissa location. A small press, it did not publish “consequential” works such as the Talmud, large halakhic titles, or responsa. The books that it did publish were of value to a, perchance, less educated community, addressing their needs, including women’s prayer books.

A likely reason for the presses’ difficulties and brief existence may actually be its location, that is, in Lissa. That location, as noted above, at one time a city of import, had begun to decline after the partition of Poland and its annexation by Prussia in 1793. No longer an important commercial center nor a location with a history as a center of printing. Lissa had no prior press, nor was it well situated for a press. The books it published were small, of value to a local population, consisting of ethical, linguistic and liturgical works, but did not address the needs of a more sophisticated population with leading yeshivot, as Lissa had been so earlier. It was not set up for book distribution, a basic requirement for a successful press. Several of the books that it did publish, were quickly reissued in Vienna, republished at the press of Anton Schmidt, a publisher of consequence.[25]

Given the restrictions on reprinting stated on the title-page of Likitat Yosef it would appear that the almost immediate reprinting of that title and other works were at the initiative of the author. Given the poor distribution of Lissa imprints Hirschfeld likely sought a larger and more successful press, an objective filled by the press of Anton Schmidt. Perchance, no, in this instance certainly not perchance, but more likely, indeed assuredly, if the books had been printed in Dyhernfurth, with its history of printing and successful book distribution, there would not have been a need to reprint these titles in Vienna.

All of the above notwithstanding, the books that were published in Lissa, albeit small in number and in size, were worthy titles. Lissa was, as noted at the beginning of this article, one of many presses, small in size and output, which are poorly recalled today. Nevertheless, this does not detract from the fact that these presses published valuable works, serving the needs of the local population. Here too, the Lissa press, despite being short lived, published books of value to its community and deserves to be remembered and well regarded.

Poetry and Wordplay in the Book of Kohelet

By Joseph Wertzberger[1]

Sefer Kohelet, the Book of Kohelet, was written approximately 700-600 BC according to Rabbinic sources,[2] and is dated to somewhere between that time and the early to mid-third century BC by academic sources.[3] Its wisdom is traditionally attributed to King Solomon.[4]

The book is part of ancient Hebrew wisdom literature, and is known for its existential, philosophic lessons and motifs. But alongside that also, the book is suffused with sophisticated poetry and wordplay, and I’d like to use this essay to point out a few examples.

1. The Meaninglessness of Huvel

The book begins with its most well-known verse, summarizing the work’s theme and setting its tone.

הבל הבלים אמר קהלת, הבל הבלים הכל הבל. קהלת א ב

Huvel of huvel,[5] said Kohelet, huvel of huvel, all is huvel.

The word huvel can be translated variously as air,[6] vapor, meaninglessness, vanity,[7] folly, futility, absurdity,[8] or nothingness.[9] The word is repeated throughout the book as a motif, describing aspects of human endeavor and life experience.

The book begins with a bang, so to speak; a strong summary statement that captures the book’s theme, while also the reader’s attention; and the theme is then explained, elaborated upon, and expanded throughout the rest of the book. The sentence is only eight words long, and a remarkable five of them, more than half of the sentence, are the same word, essentially nothing.

Using a word that also means air, or vapor, as the book’s theme is not accidental, for in the author’s effort to examine life’s purpose, meaning and sense, to dig into it and to pin it down, he (and we, alongside) discovers ultimate meaning and sense to be elusive. We think we understand things, and our minds naturally intuit purpose and endow things with meaning, but the moment we try to pin it down and fully capture it, it slips through our fingers like so much vaporous air.

In fact, the word huvel itself symbolizes its meaning onomatopoeically well, being composed of only soft consonants,[10] its vocalization almost entirely pure breath itself, with no hard sounds; an unusual verbal formulation. The entire sentence, in fact, is composed almost completely of “air” with almost no hard consonants, the only two being the hard ‘k’ sounds in Kohelet and hakol, balancing each other out at the two ends of the sentence. When the sentence is read aloud, particularly with its ancient Hebrew pronunciation and syllabic emphasis, it has a very lilting, bouncing and poetically balanced quality to it.[11]

It is also intriguing to notice that the hard ‘k’ sound in hakol is in fact the only thing that distinguishes the word from the similar word huvel – in fact, even more so, the tiniest difference between the letters kuf and vet are what distinguish absolutely everything from nothing! And the only other ‘k’ sound in the verse is in the only other physical object that appears in the sentence, the speaker of the sentence at its opposite end, who is examining everything, and turning it into nothing.[12] And so, essentially, nothing appears in the sentence until almost its very end, and when something does appear, everything appears all at once with the one simple word, hakol, and it’s all immediately revealed to in fact be… hevel, nothing at all.

1. Onomatopoeia

The book includes many beautiful examples of onomatopoeia. In addition to the word huvel and its use as mentioned, some of the best are the following.[13]

כל הנחלים הלכים אל הים והים איננו מלא, אל מקום שהנחלים הלכים שם הם שבים ללכת[14]. קהלת א ז

We hear the pitter-patter of water bouncing, running and tumbling through the brook down the mountainside.

סובב סבב הולך הרוח ועל סביבתיו שב הרוח[15]. קהלת א ו

The wind’s whistle and howl comes through.

כי כקול הסירים תחת הסיר, כן שחק הכסיל[16]. קהלת ז ו

We can clearly hear the kindling under the kettle crackle and hiss,[17] and the fool’s braying cackle alongside.

אם ישך הנחש בלוא לחש, ואין יתרון לבעל הלשון[18]. קהלת י יא

Here we hear the hiss of the snake, and the whispered sounds of the luchash, in the sounds of the sentence. There’s also a poetically ringing rhyme to the verse, and the gossip whisperer’s tongue coming at the end of it circles poetically back to the snake at its start, whose bite is also viscerally associated with its flicking tongue (snakes hunt by smelling prey through their tongue).

1. He Gives Another, His Portion

כי יש אדם שעמלו בחכמה ובדעת ובכשרון ולאדם שלא עמל בו יתננו חלקו[19]. קהלת ב כא

The word chelko at the end of the sentence seems initially extraneous and off-balance, for when we read the sentence from its start, it seems complete with the word yitnenu. The word chelko then appears, almost an added appendage at the sentence’s end.

It seems that the word chelko (his portion) would have fit the sentence better had the preceding word been yiten (he gives) instead of yitnenu (he gives it to him). Since the word yitnenu includes a subject-reference, it’s odd to refer to the subject again in the next word. Noticing this odd juxtaposition and double subject reference clues in the reader to understand that the person (and portion) described in chelko can also be read as referring to the receiver.[20]

In other words, the sentence is written so as to create in the reader an initial visceral perception of chelko as referring to the giver, followed by an understanding that it refers to the receiver; providing – in prose – an illustration of the very act described by the prose itself, namely having chelko, the portion, ‘pass’ as it were, from the giver to the receiver![21]

1. Making Meaning of Experience

ראיתי את הענין אשר נתן אלהים לבני האדם לענות בו. קהלת ג י

The words “inyan’ and “la’anot” in this sentence have at least four translations, all of which fit together to provide a fuller meaning to the sentence.

La’anot and inyan can mean suffering, pain and negative experience, as in,

וכאשר יענו אותו. שמות א יב

כל נדר וכל שבעת אסר לענת נפש. במדבר ל יד

יום ענות אדם נפשו. ישעיהו נח ה

This translation is given to the words by the Targum,[22] and in this reading the sentence means, “I saw the suffering that God gave people to be afflicted with.”

La’anot and inyan can also mean celebration,[23] happiness and positive experience, as in,

קול ענות אנכי שמע[24]. שמות לב יח

כי האלהים מענה בשמחת לבו[25]. קהלת ה יט

This translation is given by Mordechai Zer-Kavod in his commentary to Mossad Harav Kook’s edition of Kohelet, and at Kohelet 1-13 he notes a similar translation by R. Shlomo Kluger. In this reading, the sentence means, “I saw the experience that God gave people to be enjoyed with.”

La’anot and inyan can also simply mean experience, with no negative or positive connotations, similar to the Rabbinic Hebrew, and from there modern Hebrew’s, use of the common word inyan,[26] as in,

וענתה שמה כימי נעוריה. הושע ב יז

R Sa’adia Gaon, Rashi, Rashbam, Ibn Ezra and Ralbag provide similar translations of the word.[27] In this reading the word inyan means a matter, or engagement, la’anot means something like “to be engaged in” or “exercised with”, and the sentence is translated as, “I saw the engagement that God gave people to be exercised with.”[28]

So, it turns out, there are three different ways to translate the words inyan and la’anot, each of which changes the overall meaning of the verse, and each of which diverse translations are accurate, work in the sentence structure, and can provide meaning to the sentence.[29] Which is all to say, that our interpretation of experience and how we see it, provides the meaning we give to it!

Finally, la’anot and inyan can also mean to witness, as in,

לא תענה ברעך עד שקר. שמות כ ב

לענות בו סרה. דברים יט טז

וענתה השירה הזאת לפניו לעד. דברים לא כא

In this translation the verse means, “I saw the experiences that G-d gave to people to witness (i.e., to see and experience)”.[30]

Here too, are two layers of meaning, for in one sense, to say that one has ‘witnessed’ an event is simply another way of saying that one has seen and experienced it. But in a deeper sense, it is the witnessing of the event itself that gives meaning, shape and form to the event; and with no witness, the event would be formless and without meaning.[31] This reading, of course, fits right into, and complements, the first three readings of the verse, for it is our experience of an event, and the way in which we witness it, that creates it as an event for us, provides us its meaning, and makes it what it is to us.[32] [33]

1. Relax, In the End Nothing Makes Sense

הבל הבלים אמר הקוהלת הכל הבל. קהלת יב ח

The same sentence that began the book, bookends it again as its conclusion.[34] [35] Its meaning at both ends, however, can be read differently.

In writing and in reading the book, and in working through its problems, questions, discussions, and thematic variations, the author and his readers undertake a journey of exploration of life’s contradictions and paradoxes. Taking that journey, in depth, leaves the traveler different at the end than at its start, for along the way, the reader has discovered, and partly through their own thoughtful exploration of the author’s words, that the only choice, and inherent to life’s experience, is acceptance of the absurdities and paradoxes intrinsic to it.[36] [37]

In this way, what began as a lament of discomfiture at life’s impossible contradictions, ends as a statement of their factuality and acceptance. As we initially began peeling away the layers of life’s onion, and realizing that things don’t make as much sense as we intuitively feel they should, our natural, instinctive need for sense is disturbed. But at the journey’s end, once we’ve gone through the process of internalizing experience’s innate senselessness, its fuller realization and our more complete understanding that it’s all simply part of life’s inherence, permits us to accept things for what they are; and having done that, our experience becomes all the easier for it, rather than harder. Things are not really meant to make sense anyhow, they never completely will, and in the final analysis, it gives us permission to take our life in hand once again, accept it, make of it its best, and live it calmly[38] and productively,[39] prudently and judiciously,[40] happily[41] and to the fullest of our efforts.[42] Like the t-shirt that reads, “Relax, nothing is under control”, the excision of our attempts at understanding releases us from them when they don’t serve us well.

Relax, do what you can to live a good life… “before the silver cord snaps, before the golden cup shatters…[43]

.הבל הבלים אמר הקוהלת הכל הבל

[1] The author is the creator of the youtube channel “Understanding Kohelet”, here.
[2] בבא בתרא טו-א
[3] See, e.g., here. Ibn Ezra also seems to note that at least some of the book’s editing was done after the first temple period, for example at 2-25. In other verses as well, ibn Ezra and other commentators note language and word choices resembling writing of times closer to the Rabbinic period. See also the Preface to Mossad Harav Kook’s edition of Kohelet, Section 5, Part 4.
[4] קהלת רבא א-א, סנהדרין כ-ב
[5] In its simple reading, the double havel havulim can be understood as emphasis, i.e., the epitome of vanity, or utter vanity, similar to the words shir hashirim, and many other double words used in Tanach. In a deeper sense it can also be understood to intimate that huvel, meaninglessness, is itself also meaningless (a double negative that cancels itself out), because by the end of the book, and through its exploration, we discover together with the author, that in as much as things can never be fully and truly understood, an overemphatic focus on meaninglessness is itself meaningless and purposeless.
[6] In referring to air, the author is foreshadowing the many other verses in which the book uses air and wind to represent the ephemeral, fleeting nature of life and experience, e.g., 1-6, 1-14, 12-7, and many others.
[7] Not in the contemporarily more common use of the word vain, as narcissistic pride, but vain as futile.
[8] Not with its commonly used definition of farcically ridiculous, but something much closer to its existentialist philosophic meaning of senselessness, as used in, for example, Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus.
[9] If our attempt to pin down a precise meaning for the word huvel is frustrated, we are not the first to experience such frustration, for R Sa’adia Gaon, as well, mentions five potential Arabic translations of the word.

Defining the book’s theme through a word that has many translations and interpretations is in no way coincidental, for that is a practice and theme throughout the work, using words and constructing phrases in such ways that exploration and thought is required to unpack and fully understand them in their context, and through such exploration and understanding, different aspects of the intended message are communicated.
[10] The letter vet in ancient Hebrew was pronounced with a “w” sound, similar to its contemporary Yemenite pronunciation.
[11] This is true of much of Tanach, an appreciation of which has been lost due to historic changes in reading style and pronunciation.
[12] The phrase havel havulim umar kohelet may also allude to the fact that even the statements and attempts of the author to examine the world and its meaning are also impossible and vain, as elaborated upon later on in the book, for example chapter 1, verses 8, 13, and 17, and chapter 7, verse 23. So the analysis too, and the attempt at finding meaning, is itself meaningless. See also Ralbag at 12-8.
[13] The poetry and onomatopoeia comes through best when the sentences are read with the sound, pronunciation and syllabic emphasis of original, ancient Hebrew.
[14] All the rivers go to the sea, and the sea is not full; to the place the rivers go, there they return to go.
[15] Circling in circulation, goes the wind, and on its circulation, returns the wind.
[16] For like the sound of the twigs under the pot, so is the laugh of the fool.
[17] In fact, the sounds are very similar to the English words, ‘cackle’ and ‘hiss’, which themselves sound like their meaning.
[18] If the snake bites, without a hiss/spell, and there is no advantage to the master of the tongue.
[19] For there may be a person whose efforts are with intelligence and with wisdom, and with suitability, and to a person who expended no effort over it, he gives (it to) him, his portion.
[20] See Targum, which translates the phrase as יתנניה למהוי חולקיה, “he gives it to become his portion”, clearly reading the portion as attached to the receiver, presumably because of the otherwise odd double subject reference. Ibn Ezra also reads chelko as referring to a subject receiver. Rashbam too, reads chelko as attaching to the receiver, but states that the giver in yitenenu is God (presumably due to the otherwise double subject reference), and in this reading perhaps yitnenu means “it shall be given [by God]”, rather than he shall give it, since the giver in yitnenu is not referring back to the person described in the first half of the sentence.

On the other hand, R Sa’adia Gaon’s commentary clearly translates chelko as referring to the giver. R Moshe Yitzchok Ashkenazi (Tedeschi) in Ho’il Moshe also provides a grammatical reading of the sentence in which chelko refers to the giver.

Reading yitnenu as attaching to the receiver’s object referred to in chelko is also somewhat supported by the ta’amim, since yitnenu is given a munach, tying it to its succeeding word chelko, rather than to its preceding phrase (i.e., the phrase ‘he gives’ modifies ‘his portion’, rather than any object that may have been described earlier in the sentence, in amulo or in bo). Consider also that the object being passed from the giver to the receiver has not yet been explicitly articulated into the sentence prior to the appearance of the word chelko, since, arguably, amulo is describing only the giver’s efforts, not the fruit of those efforts, which would be the object actually being passed; and the word bo in and of itself, does not either provide the sentence with a subject.
[21] Mordechai Zer-Kavod in the Mossad Harav Kook edition of Kohelet describes a third potential subject to which chelko might refer, which is the fruits of the giver’s labor, and in this reading the word chelko means “part of”, i.e., a part of the giver’s possessions, and the sentence reads as, “For there is a person whose efforts are with intelligence… and to a person that labored not for it, he gives part of it.” See also Rashi on the verse for a similar formulation based on midrash.
[22] In Kohelet 1-13, the verse includes a similar formulation

ונתתי את־לבי לדרוש ולתור בחכמה על כל־אשר נעשה תחת השמים הוא ענין רע נתן אלהים לבני האדם לענות בו

and Targum, ibn Ezra and Tanchum Yerushalmi provide a similar translation to the words inyan and la’anot in that verse, while Metzudat Tzion provides a similar translation for the word la’anot, although not for the word inyan, and Ri Karo provides a similar translation for the word inyan, although not for the word la’anot.
[23] It is quite possible that the root of the word enu as it is used in phrases like

עלי באר ענו לה, במדבר כא יז, ענו לה׳ בתודה, תהלים קמז ז, ביום ההוא כרם חמר ענו לה, ישעיהו כז ב

is also related to the word celebration, although in these cases it is also, and perhaps more closely, related to word respond or say.
[24] See for example, Ibn Ezra, Ramban, Ralbag and R’ Avraham ben Harambam, although others provide different translations of the word in this sentence too.
[25] See Rashbam and Ralbag, although there are also other ways to translate the word in this sentence as well.
[26] In reviewing the related words and meanings in all of these similar verses, as parsed through the various commentaries, it seems to me also that the general word inyan in this reading, as meaning something close to an engagement, or more simply a thing, something that is, may also be etymologically related to use of the similar word and root for the concept of residing in or simply being in, as in the word ma’on.
[27] In some cases these translations are in Kohelet 1-13, and as between the different commentators, they are provided with varying nuance as to the precise translation and word usage.
[28] In the larger context of the chapter, this sentence is a response to the verses coming just before it, which read,

לכל זמן, ועת לכל חפץ, תחת השמים. עת ללדת ועת למות… עת לאהב ועת לשנא, עת מלחמה ועת שלום. מה יתרון העושה באשר הוא עמל

This well-known section of Kohelet questions the point of a life of constant change and dissolution, where the pendulum of experience always swings from one side to the other, and where every effort invested, and even the things invested in, often ends and changes to its opposite; and therefore, the question is begged, “what advantage the doer in such that he toils?”

It is this question that the present verse responds to, explaining that these fluctuations and changes in expended effort, and in life and experience, in fact have as their purpose the engagement and exercise of people in and with their life and experiences. In other words, the goal settings, fluctuations, achievements, disappointments, moving goal-posts, and corrections, are actually the very things that create the life of engagement and attunement, and a life lived in one straight line would be pointless and meaningless, and lacking in engagement.

The other translations as well, are responsive to the prior verses and question in a similar way. The frustrated and constantly changing efforts can be seen as a form of immiseration that people are afflicted with (in this reading, the present verse in 3-10, is simply extending the question and problem discussed in the prior verse), or they can be seen as challenges which can be invigorating, and bring a person joy when approached from the perspective of, and with a purpose to, building and improving.
[29] This is a good representative illustration of a lot of the messaging in Kohelet, which often revolves around purpose, perception and meaning, and how these are multi-layered, and appear different from different vantage points, or when different factors or interpretations are brought to bear. This is also the key to understanding the many seeming ‘contradictions’ in Kohelet (בבלי, שבת ל׳ ב׳) – for when the meanings and contexts of what are being said are fully understood, they are clearly seen not to be contradictions at all.
[30] And in a fifth translation, which fits right in alongside the rest and is related to witness, the word la-anot can also mean to respond, see medrash rabah here, and ibn Ezra at Kohelet 1-13. And, believe it or not, with these five translations we have still not exhausted all the possible translations of the word as used in the sentence, see for example Rashi, Ri Karo, and Tanchum Yerushalmi in the parallel verse at Kohelet 1-13, each with other, additional translations.
[31] In fact it might questionably even be called an “event” at all.
[32] This theme comes up in art too, for example in Albert Camus’ “The Stranger”, and Jonathan Blow’s “The Witness”.
[33] This verse is a good example of what we find with many of the verses and statements in Kohelet, which is that they can be translated and interpreted from a number of different vantage points, with several layers of meanings able to be peeled back like layers of an onion, while all of those layers of meaning interact with, and nest within, each other to provide an ultimate interpretation and meaning to the sentence. And while it’s easy to assume that some or many of these interpretations are unintentional, and arise coincidentally due to the poetic nature of the text, or due to the brevity of ancient Hebrew which, because it has relatively few words compared to other languages, consequently more meanings and translations for each of its words; on closer reading and familiarity with the nuances of the book’s style and messaging it seems likely that the varied and rich layers of meaning were seeded intentionally.
[34] Rashbam notes that the book’s ending, from this verse on, was appended at a later time by its editors. This is also evident from the style, tone and content of verses 12-9 through 12-14, which differ from the rest of the book. See also Ralbag, Ho’il Moshe at 12-7, and Metzudas Dovid, Shadal at 12-8. It’s also possible that verses 1-2, and 12-8 (the two bookending huvel verses), which more closely resemble the rest of the book, were part of the original earlier work, while verses 1-1 and 12-9 through 12-14 were added later as a kind of prologue and epilogue. See also FN 3 regarding the book’s editing.
[35] The end of the book and its beginning also mirror each other in that the lead-in from the summary sentence to the rest of the book (verses 1-4 to 1-7), and the lead out from the book to the closing summary sentence (verses 12-2 to 12-7) are composed of evocatively colorful imagery, which express their messages of the ephemerality of existence and the eventuality of life’s and of experience’s end, not only in the literal statements of their message, but also in the impressionist emotions that their images create in the reader. As well, some of the same elemental imagery of earth, sun, air and water is mirrored between the start of the book and its end (compare Chapter 1 verses 4, 5, 6 and 7 with Chapter 12 verses 2, 6 and 7).
[36] One cannot point to any one verse that states the premise of this point explicitly, rather it is an idea that develops organically and expands its realization over the course of the work in the perceptions experientially realized by the reader through their effort in working through the book’s perambulatory contemplations and exploratory deliberations. One can point in support, however, among various verses, to 9-7 through 9-10, which in a sense can be seen as the conclusion of the first part of the book (which begins at 1-12). Arguably, it is the author’s intent is for the reader to discover the point’s salience for themself as they work through the book’s ideas together with the author.
[37] That the present verse’s summary conclusion is a result of the conclave of ideas preceding it is also supported by the verse’s choice of wording, ‘umar hakohelet‘, with the definitive article, ‘the’ kohelet – for it is the gathering together and synthesizing of the various strands of thought through the course of the book that produce the conclusions reached at its end. In this interpretation we translate the word kohelet as ‘a coming-together’ or a ‘gathering (n.)’, as in ‘the results of the act of gathering’, or ‘the things that have been gathered’, conjugating the root verb ko-h-el, similar to words such as toelet and pesolet.

Interestingly, the same conjugation of the root also produces the feminine verb, a point made by wordplay in Chapter 7, verse 27, where, as compared to the word construction in our present sentence, the author changed the word kohelet from a noun to a feminine verb simply by moving the letter ‘heh’ over one word (changing amrah kohelt to amar hakohelet).
[38] 12-3 to 4, in its emotional resonance.
[39] E.g., Chapter 11, generally.
[40] Verses 11-8 to 12-1.
[41] Verses 9-7 to 9, and 11-8 to 9.
[42] Verse 9-10.
[43] Verse 12-6.

A Review of Parashas Hamelech – Al Mitzvas Hakhel, by Rabbi Moshe Parnes

Reviewed by: Rabbi Moshe Maimon, Jackson, NJ

Sefer Parashas Hamelech on the mitzvah of Hakhel offers a unique and illuminating contribution on one of the lesser-studied mitzvos of the Torah. It fits the modern genre of encyclopedias on arcane subjects, while also combining elements of older and more established trends in Torah publications, weaving it all together in deft scholarly fashion. It is both an exhaustive accumulation of sources primary and secondary on its topic as well as a lively sefer iyun, providing fresh and penetrating perspectives on everything it touches.

The little explored, but very timely mitzvah of Hakhel which in the Temple era entailed a mass gathering at the Beis Hamikdash in the post-sabbatical year, where the assemblage would hear the Jewish King perform a special Torah reading, has been largely uncharted by the major halachic compendiums. A noteworthy exception is the Rambam who included it in his Hilchos Chagigah; the section of Mishneh Torah pertaining to the tri-annual Temple pilgrimage. The obvious reason for its exclusion from the codes is that this mitzvah was not of practical relevance for the Jewish Diaspora, and thus became a topic for theoretical discussion by experts only.

Interest in this mitzvah, however, was generated in scholarly circles with the return to the Land of Israel by large segments of World Jewry. Late in the 19th century, the illustrious R. Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Teumim (“the Aderes”) published (anonymously) what to this point has been considered the most exhaustive treatment of the topic, his Zecher Lemikdash. (A major focus of the Aderes has been the possibility of reestablishing this mitzvah in modern times, even if only as a testimonial—an idea elaborated upon by R. Shmuel Kalman Mirsky in his article in Talpiyot vol. 6 pp. 92-118).

Additionally, besides for being virgin halachic ground, this topic also leads into fascinating discussions on more classical halachic topics such as laws the pertaining to daily prayer, the reverential treatment of Torah scrolls, and the specific requirements for the weekly Torah reading. Naturally, an incisive treatment of the unique Hakhel service in the Beis Hamikdash is of necessity accompanied by deep dives into the broader context of other mitzvos that were specifically pertinent in the Temple era, as well as close examinations of various elements of the Temple services and the qualifications necessary for Jewish royalty along with other such related topics.

With every passing shmittah cycle, interest in Hakhel seems to swell and this year is no different. Our author, Reb Moshe Parnes, a self-described businessman living in Boro Park but clearly a gifted scholar who devotes a good portion of his day to intense Torah study, timed the launch of Parashas Hamelech perfectly. His magnum opus was primed and perfected just in time for the culmination of the current shmittah cycle.

The volume begins with a thorough introduction devoted to the “aggadic” aspects of Hakhel and presents various different perspectives on the unique mitzvah, all culled from a wide variety of classical sources, such as the following:

• A mass Torah-study session.

• A demonstration geared for enhancing fear of Heaven among the masses.

• An outgrowth of the mitzvah to make pilgrimage to the Beis Hamikdash during the shalosh regalim (a perspective enhanced by the Rambam’s placement of this mitzvah in Mishneh Torah as mentioned previously).

• A reenactment of kabbalas haTorah.

The main body of the sefer is divided into three parts: The primary text is written in the style of a Shulchan Aruch with short, anonymous pronouncements given in the form of chapters (simanim) and paragraphs (se’ifim), which cover all the halachos of Hakhel divided into three main categories:

A] The section on the general aspects of the mitzvah covers the exact time and place for the mitzvah; the technical aspects of how the platform is constructed and the Torah scroll that is to be used for the reading.

This section ends with a spirited discussion of the sources regarding the fulfillment of this mitzvah in contemporary times. It concludes that since the mitzvah is dependent on mitzvas r’iyah (the Temple pilgrimage) which cannot be practically fulfilled without the Beis Hamikdash, the mitzvah of Hakhel cannot either be fulfilled at this time. To counter the suggestion of the Aderes that we at least make a remembrance for this mitzvah, the author points out that a zecher is not enacted when the mitzvah itself was never performed outside of the Beis Hamikdash. (The Aderes himself, following the Yaavetz, adopted the view that the custom of reading Sefer Devarim on Hashanah Rabbah evolved out of a zecher for Hakhel. If this were true, the author’s point would be considerably weakened, but it should be noted that this idea is purely speculative and does not account for the fact that the custom is practiced every year, whereas Hakhel was only relevant once in seven years).

B] The second section is devoted to the unique Torah reading that constitutes the actual mitzvah of Hakhel, and encompasses all aspects of this reading. At the end of this section, the author shows how many sources understood that this Torah reading was intended to lead into a practical mussar shmooze by the king, who would even exhort the people to be more pious in their religious observance. One prominent Italian sage, R. Shmuel Yehuda Katzenellenbogen (d. Padua, 1597), illustrates this point with a sampling of a schmooze targeting the ills of his own time—married women who did not cover their hair, or who wore wigs!

C] Section three covers all the rules regarding who is obligated by this mitzvah and who is exempt. No scenario is left unexplored, from children to converts to people with physical disabilities and much more. It is here that we can find detailed discussions pertaining to all aspects of life, even one as seemingly mundane as whether someone with impaired vision necessitating eyeglasses is considered “blind” and thereby exempted from Hakhel.

The main text is rather comprehensive and treats pretty much every aspect of the halachos of Hakhel, but it is in the two subtexts where we are treated to full blown halachic expositions of a great array of topics. The section titles “biurim” deals primarily with the material treated in the main text, providing the sources for the cited opinions with a good deal of breadth and thorough analysis—sure to delight those with a lomdishe bent.

The “iyunim” section, on the other hand, branches off the “biurim” section and includes in its scope interesting dives into topics which may be tangential to the main discussion but are compelling on their own. A sampling: What are the halachic prerequisites for determining who is a shoteh (insane)? Did the Israelite kings of the ten tribes have the halachic status of Jewish kings? What are the parameters of the mourner status conferred on one who has been placed in niddui (excommunication)? What is the reason for reading the Aseres Hadibros with the taam elyon? These and many more discussions are listed in the detailed topical index included at the end of the sefer.

The source material used for this work is exceptionally rich. When we read in the introduction the passionate dedication to the author’s late father, who possessed a tremendous library and knew how to utilize it well in his scholarly pursuits, we get the sense that the son is likewise in possession of these blessings. The fifteen-page bibliography at the end of the volume provides the authors’ names and dates of publication for the roughly 500 titles cited in the text.

A section at the end of the sefer includes a lively back and forth between the author and other scholars pertaining to their comments on his work, in which Rabbi Parnes credits his colleagues generously for their insights.

Recent years have seen a flurry of new sefarim which seem, more and more, to deal exclusively with highly specialized topics. This may just be an expression of the development of new directions in Torah scholarship in the contemporary “Torah world.” As celebrated masters of kol hatorah kulah become ever more scarce, their places are taken by localized experts who specialize in specific areas of Torah.

Perhaps, however, this trend is merely symptomatic of the nature of supply and demand in the sefarim market; a sort of Torah capitalism if you will. Consumers, sensing that previous generations have already sowed all that are worthwhile in the field of rabbinic scholarship, trend towards the encyclopedic, targeting sefarim that will reap all the fruits of the generations of labor and serve as a repository of all the information generated by scholars–both ancient and recent–on a given topic. Contemporary authors are simply aiming to meet that demand.

Whether indicative of new trends in Torah study or simply of changing patterns in the marketplace, sefarim focusing exclusively on issues that previously took up a few simanim (or, in some cases, no simanim) in Shulchan Aruch have become commonplace of late. Typically, these works excel more in their bekiyus than in their iyun. While these sefarim can be very effective for research purposes, one who still wishes to revel in that old time iyun is often better served looking for a title authored by one of the greats of the past.

Yet, as evidenced by the sterling example of Parashas Hamelech, the sources that have supplied countless generations with grist for the iyun mills are still capable of inspiring further significant halachic developments when utilized properly by capable baalei iyun. Rabbi Parnes should thus be commended for his wonderful and singular offering to the world of Torah scholarship that combines both of the aforementioned trends.

May the merit of the additional Torah study spurred on by this engaging work contribute to the tipping of the Heavenly scales and hasten us to that long-awaited moment where we can once again practice this monumental mitzvah.

Renewal of the Hakhel Ceremony in Jerusalem and New York[1]

By Aaron R. Katz

A graduate of the University of Chicago Law School and a musmach of RIETS, Aaron is the Associate Director, Private Equity and M&A Finex at WTW Israel. He lives with his wife and four children in Mishkafayim, Ramat Bet Shemesh.

As we come to the final days of the Shmitah year, preparations will soon begin for the Zecher LeHakhel events that will occur starting with the new year of 5783 (2022), which is a Motzei Shmitah year (the year following the Shmitah year).

During Chol Hamoed Sukkot in 2015, a Zecher LeHakhel ceremony took place in the courtyard in front of the Kotel. As the corresponding Hebrew year of 5776 immediately followed a Shmitah year, the event was a commemoration of the biblically-ordained Hakhel ceremony[2] in which the entire nation would assemble during Sukkot[3] of every Motzei Shmitah year for a public reading by the king of certain parts of Deuteronomy.[4] Present at the event at the Kotel were numerous dignitaries, including the Ashkenazi and Sefardi Chief Rabbis, as well as President Reuven Rivlin.

 The current Hakhel ceremony traces its roots to R. Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Teomim (1843-1905) (the “Aderet” and the father-in-law of R. Avraham Yitzchak Hacohen Kook), who discussed the establishment of a commemoration of Hakhel in his book Zecher LeMikdash in 1889 (the Hebrew year of 5649, which itself was a Shmitah year), a work that was anonymously published but has been conclusively determined to have been written by him.[5] The first modern-day ceremony took place in 1945, following the end of the 5705 Shmitah year, under the auspices of Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog. The ceremony began in the Yeshurun Synagogue and concluded at the Kotel. In 1952, following the 5712 Shmitah year, the Hakhel ceremony was held on Mt. Zion (as the Kotel was under Jordanian rule at the time) and was attended by both R. Herzog and Sefardi Chief Rabbi Ben-Zion Meir Hai Uziel. A book titled Zecher LeMitzvat Hakhel, edited by R. Mordechai Cohen, appeared shortly after the ceremony and contains a lengthy discussion of the Hakhel ceremony, as well as pictures and a description of the 1952 event. [6]

In the Nisan 5713 (March/April 1953) edition of Yeshiva University’s Talpioth journal includes two articles on Hakhel, including one by the journal’s editor R. Samuel K. Mirsky, under the title: “Renewal of Hakhel.”[7] At the end of that same journal appears a Hebrew description of a Hakhel ceremony that took place in New York. The description was written by a certain צ.ט.. (which most certainly refers to R. Zvi Tabory, who took part in the event as mentioned below). An English translation of this description from Talpioth appears below.[8]

Hakhel Gathering in New York

On Wednesday, the third day of Chol Hamoed Sukkot, a special gathering took place at the Commodore Hotel in New York to commemorate the Hakhel ceremony.

The gathering was organized by the Jewish Agency’s Department for Torah Education and Culture in the Diaspora to allow the Jews of the Diaspora the opportunity to identify with our brethren in the State of Israel who were assembling at the same time on the summit of Mt. Zion in Jerusalem to take part in a Hakhel ceremony organized by the Chief Rabbinate and the Ministry of Religion, the first such event since the establishment of the State.

The Rabbinical Council of America co-organized this gathering together with the Jewish Agency’s Department for Torah Education and Culture in the Diaspora (the “Department”), and this joint effort was extremely successful. A large celebratory crowd filled the hall, and hundreds of people were forced to go home for lack of space.

Dr. Yosef Burg, Israel’s Health Minister, inspired those assembled with his words on the responsibilities of a Jew, whoever he may be, to the State of Israel. R. Samuel K. Mirsky gave an instructive talk on the renewal of the practice of Hakhel in Israel. R. Zvi Tabory, Director of the Department in New York, opened the evening and pointed out the historic nature of the event, which comes on the heels of the revival of our nation in its land. He also delivered words of blessing on behalf of the Chief Rabbinate of Israel and the head of the Department, R. Zev Gold of Jerusalem. The participants enthusiastically accepted the blessing from Zion: “Just as you have merited to organize this event, so may you merit to perform the ritual properly according to all of its laws in the restored Temple in Jerusalem!” R. Israel Tabak of Baltimore, head of the Education Department of the Rabbinical Council of America, served as the master of ceremonies for the event and introduced R. Theodore Adams, the President of the Rabbinical Council of America, who discussed the concept of Jewish unity. Dr. Pinkhos Churgin, President of Mizrachi in America, delivered words of blessing on behalf of the Mizrachi organization, and R. Yissocher Levin, President of Hapoel HaMizrachi in America, delivered words of blessing from his organization.[9] Mr. Eliezer Doron, Israeli Consul General of New York, delivered words of blessing on behalf of the State of Israel.

A musical program was arranged by Cantor Shalom Katz from Washington, D.C., and Cantor Pinchas Jassinowsky from New York. Mrs. Jassinowsky accompanied them on the piano. 

R. Zvi Yehuda Meltzer, Av Bet Din of Rehovot and Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Hadarom in Israel, recited a special prayer for world peace.

It is quite unfortunate that an event of this caliber only occurs once every seven years; however, we can hope that the inspiration and excitement felt on this occasion will sustain the Jewish community for the next seven years.

The organizers of the event did not want to limit its scope simply to New York; rather, they intended to extend it to outlying cities as well. In turning to rabbis across the United States to suggest that they arrange Hakhel commemoration events in their respective communities, they offered a sample program, attached materials on the topic of Hakhel, and provided copies of the thorough, instructive, powerfully impactful article on Hakhel written by R. Samuel K. Mirsky, an advanced edition of which had been published in honor of the celebration held on Chol Hamoed Sukkot.

In addition, the Department arranged a celebratory Hakhel event for upperclassmen from yeshiva day schools that took place in the large hall of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary. This event was also held during Chol Hamoed Sukkot, and 1,200 students from 20 different yeshiva day schools participated. Students from the Shulamith School for Girls put on a wonderful play about the draining of the Hula swamps. A choir of one hundred students from Yeshiva Rabbi Moshe Soloveichik and Yeshiva Rabbi Israel Salanter, conducted by Mr. S. Silbermintz, sung a number of pleasant tunes for the audience.

These young children also lit candles and prayed for world peace, and it is certain that this event left a lasting impact on the attendants.

Conclusion

This post focuses on the rebirth of the modern Hakhel ceremony in the years of 1945 and 1952. In a future post, I hope to examine the manner in which the ceremony was observed in later years in both Israel and the diaspora. Of particular interest is whether R. Mirsky’s push for widespread of observance of Hakhel in the diaspora made a lasting impact following the successful 1952 event.  

Notes:

[1] I wish to thank my dear friends Rabbi Shaul Seidler-Feller, Mr. Menachem Butler and Rabbi Dr. Eliezer Brodt for their assistance on this brief essay at the Seforim blog. The essay is dedicated to the memory of my beloved chavrusa Donny Ladell, דניאל שבתי בן אליעזר ז“ל, upon his thirteenth yahrtzeit.
[2] See Deuteronomy, ch. 31. Also see the recently published Parshas Ha’melech by R. Moshe Parness on pages 118-120 where he quotes the relevant sources that discuss that Hakhel is only a biblical commandment in force as long as the Beit Hamikdash is standing. There is also a sefer called Parshas Ha’melech by R. Shmuel Genut on Hakhel that was just published this summer as a third edition (with the earlier two editions having been published in the two previous Motzei Shmitah years, respectively) that discusses the mitzvah of Hakhel, online here.
[3] For an in-depth discussion on the exact day of when Hakhel would take place, see David Henshke, “When is the Time of Hakhel?” Tarbiz, vol. 61, no. 2 (1992): 177-194 (Hebrew), available here.
[4] See Rambam, Hilchot Chagigah, ch. 3. For a detailed analysis of the Rambam’s opinion and a description of the proper halachic manner in which to conduct a Zecher LeHakhel event, see Maran Ovadya Yosef, Chazon Ovadya: Hilchot Shmitat Ksafim uPruzbul (Jerusalem, 2015), 219-228 (Hebrew), as well as his responsum in She’elot u-Teshuvot Yabia Omer, Yoreh Deah, vol. 10, no. 22. Maran Ovadya Yosef was prominently involved in numerous “Zecher LeHakhel events” at the Kotel. I was privileged to see him in person in 2008 at the last Zecher LeHakhel he attended before his passing in 2013.
[5] See Yaakov S. Spiegel, Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri / Chapters in the History of the Jewish Book, vol. 3: The Title Page (Jerusalem, 2014), 35-36 (Hebrew), regarding the anonymously published Zecher Lemikdash, which includes an approbation from Rabbi Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Teomim, known as the Aderet, as well as comments that the Aderet himself wrote on the work, which Spiegel notes was purposely done by the Aderet in order to conceal that he himself authored the work.

Note that the Ahavat Shalom edition of all of the Aderet’s writings was published in 2004 and the Zecher Lemikdash volume contains the original Zecher Lemikdash that was anonymously published as well as additional writings from the Aderet that has not previously been published (see pages 22-24 and 82-85).

See also the recently-published volume of The Collected Writings of R. Moshe Reines, ed. Eliezer Brodt (Jerusalem, 2018), 604 (Hebrew), where R. Reines identifies the Aderet as the author of Zecher Lemikdash. For more on this work, see here. Also see Ari D. Kahn, “The Commandment of Hakhel,” Explorations (25 September 2015), notes 2-3, available here, regarding the authorship of Zecher Lemikdash. R. Parness in Parshas Ha’melech (see source 2 above) also quotes Zecher Lemikdash though he argues with one of the Aderet’s sources.
[6] This sefer is available online here.

In a recently published collection of writings of the Chazon Ish titled Sefer Chazon Ish: Shailos uTeshuvos v’Chiddushim, it is recorded in Siman 446 that on his copy of the Sefer Zecher LeMitzvat Hakhel, the Chazon Ish wrote that “assur la’asot ken” (it is forbidden to do so). Perhaps the Chazon Ish’s opinion may serve as one source for the general resistance of Ashkenazi haredi circles to joining in the event at the Kotel, which is more closely identified with the national religious movement (at least from the perspective of Ashkenazim). Notably, since the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, was a proponent of Hakhel events (see, for example, the letter from R. Schneerson in the beginning of Zecher LeMitzvat Hakhel), the Chabad movement hosts numerous such events around the world throughout the entire year following Shmitah. For a synopsis of R. Schneerson’s views on Hakhel, see, for example, two articles by Shmuel Butman, “A Special Year: Hakhel Gatherings for Torah Inspiration,” The Jewish Press (23 September 1994): 19; and Shmuel Butman, “The Year of Hakhel,” The Jewish Press (21 October 1994): 36. See also the Likras Shabbos volume (volume 516, Parshas Veyelech, 5776) published by Or Hachasidus which contains many insights on Hakhel from R. Schneerson.
[7] Talpioth, vol. 6, no. 1-2 (March-April 1953): 92-118 (Hebrew).

Several months prior to the publication of his Talpioth article, R. Mirsky published two articles in English-language publications on Hakhel in Samuel K. Mirsky, “Hakhel,” The Jewish Forum, vol. 35, no. 9 (October 1952): 167-169; and Samuel K. Mirsky, “The Forgotten Mitzvah,” The Jewish Horizon, vol. 15, no. 2 (October 1952): 3-4. See also the article by R. Mirsky’s brother-in-law in Gersion Appel, “Renewing the Covenant: The Importance of Hakhel for the Jewish Faith and Its Implications for Today,” The Jewish Horizon, vol. 15, no. 6 (February 1953): 6-9.

Interestingly, R. Mirsky posited, based on R. Eliezer of Metz, that there are really two separate Mitzvot involved with Hakhel, one of which is a commandment directed to the entire nation and one of which aims at the individual. R. Mirsky wrote that the individual commandment had been transformed into the modern-day celebration of Simchat Torah, and that, with the establishment of a Jewish state, the national commandment can now be renewed, concluding that “only a Hakhel in which the national aspect is emphasized in fitting celebration can fill the demand of the hour.”

For an initial biographical tribute to R. Samuel K. Mirsky, see Yehudah Mirsky, “The New Heavens in the New World: The Religious Hebraism of Samuel K. Mirsky,” in Adam S. Ferziger and David Sperber, eds., Darkhei Daniel – The Paths of Daniel: Studies in Judaism and Jewish Culture in Honor of Rabbi Professor Daniel Sperber (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2017), 101*-128*, available here.
[8] The JTA also has a write-up of the New York event. See online here:

“A parallel celebration of the revival for the first time in 2,000 years of “Hakhel,” the Biblical ceremony which was performed in ancient Israel at the end of every Sabbatical year, took place at the Hotel Commodore here tonight at a public service sponsored by the Jewish Agency and the Rabbinical Council of America. The service was a counterpart of a similar celebration held in Jerusalem earlier this week on Mount Zion under the auspices of the Chief Rabbinate of Israel. A message from Dr. Nahum Goldmann emphasizing that the furtherance of Jewish scholarship and culture in its various forms is of decisive importance for the survival of the Jewish people and of Judaism, was read at the service here. A “Hakhel” ceremony for children, attended by 1,200 pupils of 19 Hebrew day schools in New York, was held yesterday at the Yeshiva University.”

[9] Note that at this time, Mizrachi and Hapoel HaMizrachi were two Israeli political separate parties. These parties later combined for the 1955 Knesset elections and ultimately merged in 1956 to form the National Religious Party.