Hirschian Humanism After the Holocaust:
An Analysis of the Approach of Rabbi Shimon Schwab
By Rabbi Shmuel Lesher

Rabbi Shmuel Lesher is a Machon Beren Kollel fellow at RIETS / Yeshiva University. Prior to completing his rabbinic ordination at RIETS, Rabbi Lesher studied at the Mirrer Yeshiva in Jerusalem and Yeshiva of Greater Washington in Silver Spring, Maryland. Rabbi Lesher lives in Washington Heights, with his wife Leora and their three children.

This is his first contribution to the Seforim Blog.

In 1959, Rabbi Shimon Schwab[1] made a unique contribution to the way his community and others commemorate the Holocaust. Shortly after he joined the rabbinate of K’hal Adath Jeshurun in Washington Heights, Manhattan, R. Schwab was asked by R. Joseph Breuer[2] to compose a special Tisha B’av kinnah for their kehillah. Although it was originally written for the KAJ community, many other congregations have adopted the custom of reciting it on Tisha B’av.[3] To be sure, there have been others who authored kinnot to commemorate the Holocaust.[4] However, it appears that, especially in America, R. Schwab’s kinnah is perhaps one of the first written by a rabbinic figure to gain widespread popularity.

In addition to his innovative Holocaust kinnah, the events of the Holocaust played a significant role in how R. Schwab interpreted and perpetuated the Torah Im Derekh Eretz philosophy to which he was heir. According to R. Schwab, Torah Im Derekh Eretz was seen by R. Samson Raphael Hirsch as the ideal model. However, openness to secular culture has historically been the minority opinion among gedolei yisrael.[5]

R. Schwab reached this conclusion after re-evaluating his position multiple times throughout his life. In a speech he delivered in 1990,[6] he recalled how the events of Kristallnacht (Nov 9, 1938 – Nov 10, 1938), and later the Holocaust, shook his belief in Torah Im Derekh Eretz to the core. How could R. Hirsch have believed the humanism of Germany would lead to an uplifted and righteous society when the same humanistic society ended up committed genocide without much protest from the “enlightened students of Schiller and Goethe?”[7] R. Hirsch must not have seen German humanistic Bildung[8] as anything more than a time-bound compromise in order to save his community from assimilation.[9] R. Schwab was referring to an essay he wrote in 1934 entitled Heimkehr ins Judentum (Homecoming To Judaism).[10] Here R. Schwab claimed R. Hirsch only intended Torah Im Derekh Eretz as a temporary allowance. This book was the first substantial rejection of Torah Im Derekh Eretz written by someone who grew up in the Hirschian community.[11]

An English version of this essay, prepared by K’hal Adath Jeshurun translator Gertrude Hirschler, appeared in 1978.[12]

Around the same time he published Heimkehr ins Judentum, R. Schwab wrote to a number of Eastern European Torah leaders asking them about the permissibility of incorporating secular studies into a yeshiva curriculum.[13] Dr. Marc B. Shapiro notes that this was yet another sign of the waning popularity of Torah Im Derekh Eretz at the time, even in Germany itself.[14] Apparently, R. Schwab, who had studied in Lithuanian yeshivot, was not convinced of the permissibility of what had been established as normative practice in his own country. Dr. Shapiro’s analysis is correct. However, consider R. Schwab’s query in light of his unequivocal rejection of Torah Im Derekh Eretz in his Heimkehr ins Judentum. Based on the dates of his letters and the responses of his interlocutors, it appears that even as he published Heimkehr ins Judentum, R. Schwab felt the viability of Torah Im Derekh Eretz was still an open question — or at least one still worthy of inquiry.[15]

Later in his life, after re-assessing R. Hirsch writings, R. Schwab came to believe that his earlier view was incorrect. In this later re-evaluation, R. Schwab felt that Hirsch did, in fact, wholeheartedly believe in the significance of humanism for society. After this realization, in 1966, R. Schwab wrote an essay entitled, “Elu ViElu: These and Those,” which showed the validity and necessity of both the “Torah Only” approach of many gedolei yisrael and the Hirschian “Torah Im Derekh Eretz” approach. R. Schwab wrote this 47-page pamphlet in the form of a series of dialogues intended as the “echoes of endless discussions amongst our searching youth.”[16]

On the 48^th anniversary of Kristallnacht, in 1986, R. Schwab echoed his previous concern, expressing that in a post-Holocaust world, although he accepted R. Hirsch’s Torah Im Derekh Erech application to science, medicine, and history, he could no longer believe in the power of culture and secular humanism.[17] Although R. Hirsch celebrated Schiller, and all the values of ethics and humanism he represented, this vision was “broken by the shattering of windows and the screaming of frightened children in the night.”[18] “We do not extend Torah Im Derekh Eretz to include philosophy, ethics, morality or humanism…No longer are we going to seek out Schiller to teach us about humanity. It no longer interests us.”[19] He therefore discouraged the study of these disciplines, stating unequivocally:

“The age of Humanism was a passing episode in the annals of history…The lessons of Kristallnacht – don’t believe there is Torah among the goyim (gentiles). Let us not make the same mistake as our ancestors, to believe there is any other ethical culture for us beside the Torah.”[20]

However, as forceful as this statement was, it is unclear if this was in fact R. Schwab’s final position. In his last comments on the matter in 1990, he argued for Torah Im Derekh Eretz as an ideal model.[21] Although he did caution about the dangers of the arts and literature influencing our moral compass, he did not vouch for a complete break with those disciplines.[22] As indicated by the title of his essay, R. Schwab believed, “Elu ViElu divrei Elokim hayim” – These and those are the words of the Living God.[23] Both the “Torah Only” approach of the majority of gedolei yisrael, and the “Torah Im Derekh Eretz” approach are of equal validity and importance for the Jewish community.[24] However, as the Holocaust demonstrated, we should be cautious when approaching secular humanism. Ultimately, there is no other true ethical code that produces an uplifted and righteous society other than the Torah. Although commitment to both disciplines – Torah and humanism – was seen by R. Hirsch as the ultimate goal, it appears that the same cannot be said for R. Schwab.[25]

Although R. Schwab apparently regained some of his conviction in Hirschian humanism, the Holocaust challenge has been posed to the Hirschian position and to religious humanism in general. How can one believe the study of the humanities can guarantee humaneness? R. Aharon Lichtenstein marshals the words of the literary critic George Steiner:

“We now know that a man can read Goethe or Rilke in the evening, that he can play Bach and Schubert, and go to his day’s work in Auschwitz. To say he has read them without understanding or that his ear is gross, is cant. In what way does this knowledge bear on literature and society, on the hope, grown almost axiomatic from the time of Plato to that of Mathew Arnold, that culture is a humanizing force, that the energies of the spirit are transverse to those of conduct?”[26]

R. Lichtenstein notes this is a “terrifying question for believers in the self-sufficiency of secular humanism, [and] a formidable one for advocates of religious humanism.”[27] In response to this challenge, R. Lichtenstein argues as long as the ultimate source of morality is the Torah and our humanism is fettered in religious conviction, religious life can gain much from the study of the humanities.[28]

We cannot know how R. Hirsch himself would respond to this challenge, however, one can certainly hear echoes of Hirschian thought in R. Lichtenstein’s defense of religious humanism.[29] According to the Hirschian authority Dayan Isidor Grunfeld, R. Hirsch argued for a religious humanism anchored by divine revelation. In fact, Grunfeld loosely translated Torah Im Derekh Eretz, the slogan most commonly associated with R. Hirsch, as “God-rooted religious humanism.”[30]

In this view, an irreligious or secular humanism is bound not to elevate man, but rather to debase him. Religious humanism, on the other hand, embraces the intrinsic dignity of man because he was created in the image of God.[31] For R. Hirsch, this principle is fundamental to his view of all of mankind joined in one universal “brotherhood.”[32] By ceasing to regard man as being of a higher and divine origin, secular humanism, paradoxically results in the diminishing of man’s value.[33]

In fact, R. Hirsch in his commentary on the Torah, argues for the intrinsic value of Torah Im Derekh Eretz, or culture, even in the face of the potential negative impact of secular culture:

“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…

But of course, where culture and civilisation are used in the service of sensuality and degeneration only gets all the greater. But still such misuse of culture does not do away with the intrinsic value and blessing of Derekh Eretz.”[34]

Although what can be called “low culture” or “degenerative humanism” corrupts Torah ideals, this does not negate the intrinsic value of “good and true culture.” Indeed, according to R. Hirsch, “Jews rejoice whenever or wherever culture elevates people to a perception of true values and to nurture goodness.”[35]

Perhaps the Hirschian response to the Holocaust challenge is that if we do not believe we are the ultimate arbiters of truth and morality, fundamentally, our value system remains sacrosanct even when it is not recognized by society, namely, even in Nazi Germany. The utter failing of a secular humanistic society does not undermine the value of a God-fettered humanism. Even after the horrors of the Holocaust, Hirschian humanism remains intact. In the words of Jacob Breuer, Torah Im Derekh Eretz is indeed a “Timeless Torah.”[36]

Notes:

Thank you to Dan Rabinowitz and the editors at the Seforim Blog for their assistance. Thank you to my father-in law R. Hanan Balk and Yehuda Geberer who shared some important sources with me. I am indebted to my rebbe and mentor R. Netanel Wiederblank in general, and in particular for his advice and insight into this topic.

[1] R. Schwab served as a rabbinic leader K’hal Adath Jeshurun from his arrival in 1958 until his passing in 1995. For biographical details on R. Schwab, see R. Moses L. Schwab, “Rav Simon Schwab: A Biography,” in Moreshet Tzvi – The Living Hirschian Legacy: Essays on ‘Torah im Derech Eretz’ and the Contemporary Hirschian Kehilla (New York: K’hal Adath Jeshurun, 1988), 45-51. For other essays in this volume, see the Table of Contents:

See also R. Moshe L. Schwab, “Biography of Rav Shimon Schwab,” in Rav Schwab on Prayer (Brooklyn: ArtScroll Mesorah, 2001), ix-xx available here; R. Eliyahu Meir Klugman, “The Ish Ha’Emes: The Man of Impeccable Integrity, Rabbi Shimon Schwab,” The Jewish Observer, vol. 28, no. 5 (Summer 1995): 11-22, available here.
[2] Rabbi Dr. Joseph Breuer, the grandson of R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, was the founding Rav of K’hal Adath Jeshurun in Washington Heights, Manhattan. For biographical details on R. Breuer, see David Kranzler and R. Dovid Landesman, Rav Breuer: His Life and His Legacy (New York: Feldheim, 1998) and Dr. Ernst J. Bodenheimer and R. Nosson Scherman, “Rav Dr. Joseph Breuer zt”l, One Year After His Passing,” The Jewish Observer, vol. 15, no. 6 (May 1981): 3-10, available here.
[3] See R. Avrohom Chaim Feuer and R. Avie Gold, eds., Tefillah L’Moshe: The Complete Tisha B’av Service (Brooklyn: Artscroll Mesorah, 1992), 392-394, who cite the background story to the kinnah from R. Schwab himself. Also see Moshe Schwab, “A Biography of Rav Shimon Schwab,” Rav Schwab on Prayer, xix, who also references the story. For the text of R. Schwab’s Holocaust Kinnah, see here, courtesy of ArtScroll/Mesorah.
[4] For other kinnot composed for the Holocaust, see Mordechai Meir, “Zakhor Na Ha-Bikhiot Bi-Tahom HaGoyot: Kinnot L’zekher HaShoah,” Akadamot, vol. 9 (2000): 77-99 (Hebrew), available here; and Jacob J. Schacter, “Holocaust Commemoration and Tish’a be-Av: The Debate Over ‘Yom ha-Sho’a’,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 41, no. 2 (Summer 2008): 164-197, available here, especially 194-195n36-41 for sources on R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s position. See also Jacob J. Schacter, “The Rav and the Tisha B’Av Kinot,” in Zev Eleff, ed., Mentor of Generations: Reflections on Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (Jersey City: Ktav, 2008), 303-314, available here, and earlier in Jacob J. Schacter, “Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik zt”l on the Tisha B’Av Kinos,” Jewish Action, vol. 54, no. 4 (Summer 1994): 11-12, available here.

[5] Anonymous, “A Letter Regarding ‘the Frankfurt Approach’,” ha-Ma’ayan, vol. 6, no. 4 (1966): 4-7 (Hebrew)

A translation of this anonymous essay appears in Shnayer Z. Leiman, “From the Pages of Tradition – R. Shimon Schwab: A Letter Regarding the “Frankfurt’ Approach,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 31, no. 3 (Spring 1997): 71-77, available here. Dr. Leiman writes in 77n4 that members of ha-Ma’ayan’s editorial board confirmed his suspicion that the Anonymous author was R. Shimon Schwab.
[6] R. Shimon Schwab, “Torah Im Derech Eretz – A Second View,” in Selected Speeches: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Contemporary Issues and Jewish History (New York: C.I.S. Publishers, 1991), 236-252, the transcript of an address delivered at K’hal Adath Jeshurun on February 19, 1990.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Referring to the German tradition of self-formation through acculturation and education attributed to Wilhelm Von Humboldt (1791-1810).
[9] R. Shimon Schwab, “Torah Im Derech Eretz – A Second View,” in Selected Speeches: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Contemporary Issues and Jewish History (New York: C.I.S. Publishers, 1991), 239.
[10] R. Shimon Schwab, Heimkehr ins Judentum (Homecoming To Judaism) (Frankfurt: Hermon-Verlag, 1934; German).
[11] Marc B. Shapiro, Between The Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy: The Life and Works of Jehiel Jacob Weinberg 1884-1966 (Portland: Littman Library, 1999), 152. Dr. Shapiro notes that one of the first articles written by the great Jewish historian Jacob Katz was a review of Heimkehr ins Judentum. See Jacob Katz, “Umkher oder Rückkehr – Review of ‘Heimkehr ins Judentum’, by Simon Schwab,” Nahalat Tsevi, vol. 5 (1935): 89-96, available here; and Jacob Katz, With My Own Eyes: The Autobiography of an Historian, trans. Ziporah Brody (Hanover, NH: New England Universities Press, 1995), 96.
[12] R. Shimon Schwab, Heimkehr ins Judentum (Homecoming to Judaism), trans. Gertrude Hirschler (New York, 1978).
[13] See Marc B. Shapiro, Between The Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy: The Life and Works of Jehiel Jacob Weinberg 1884-1966 (Portland: Littman Library, 1999), 152, who notes that a copy of the original letter exists in the Joseph Rozin Archive, Yeshiva University. The four Eastern European rabbis who are known to have responded in writing are R. Elhanan Wasserman, R. Barukh Ber Leibowitz, R. Avraham Yitzhak Bloch, and R. Yosef Rozen. Their replies are printed in Yehuda (Leo) Levi, Shaarei Talmud Torah (Jerusalem: Feldheim, 1981), 296-312 (Hebrew) and R. Bloch’s response was first published in Proceedings of the Association of Orthodox Jewish Scientists, vol. 1 (New York: AOJS, 1966), 107-112, available here. For more on the background of R. Schwab’s letter and the responses he received, see Jacob J. Schacter, “Torah u-Madda Revisited: The Editor’s Introduction,” The Torah u-Madda Journal, vol. 1 (1989): 1-22, available here, especially 15n1-2; Yehuda (Leo) Levi, “Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch-Myth and Fact,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 31, no. 3 (Spring 1997): 5-22, esp. 11, available here, and Marc B. Shapiro, “Torah im Derekh Erez in the Shadow of Hitler,” The Torah u-Madda Journal, vol. 14 (2006-2007): 84-96, esp. 85-86,95 available here.
[14] See Marc B. Shapiro, Between The Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy: The Life and Works of Jehiel Jacob Weinberg 1884-1966 (Portland: Littman Library, 1999), 152.
[15] There seems to be some discrepancies among those who record the story. Marc B. Shapiro dates the letter to 1933, whereas Jacob J. Schacter says it was 1934. Most surprising, is R. Dr. Norman Lamm’s assertion that the question was posed from America. See R. Norman Lamm, Torah Umadda: The Encounter of Religious Learning and Worldly Knowledge in the Jewish Tradition (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1990), 39. Either way, contrary to what Dr. Levi writes that R. Schwab was still a student in a Lithuanian yeshiva when he posed the question, R. Schwab had already left the Mir Yeshiva by 1931. By September of 1933 he had already accepted a rabbinic position in Ichenhausen, Bavaria. See Moshe L. Schwab, “Biography of Rav Shimon Schwab,” Rav Schwab on Prayer, x-xi. It appears more likely that R. Schwab sent his letters as he started making arrangements to open a yeshiva in Bavaria. This is, in fact, how I heard the story from R. Dovid Landesman, R. Breuer’s biographer. See his R. Dovid Landesman, There Are No Basketball Courts In Heaven (McKeesport, PA: Jewish Educational Workshop, 2010), 142-143. Nevertheless, there is reason to believe that Dr. Levi’s record of the story should be the most accurate. In addition to publishing the four responses to R. Schwab, Dr. Levi writes in his Torah Study: A Survey of Classic Sources on Timely Issues (New York: Feldheim, 2002), 363n13, available here, that R. Schwab himself shared R. Yosef Rozen’s response with him personally. It is unlikely that Dr. Levi would not have gotten the context of the letters accurately from R. Schwab. Perhaps one can suggest in Dr. Levi’s defense, that R. Schwab may have posed the question at least twice. Once when he was a yeshiva student in Lithuania and then again in writing later when opening a yeshiva in Bavaria.
[16] It was published by Philipp Feldheim, Inc., and included a brief preface by R. Dr. Joseph Breuer. See also the related essay by R. Joseph Breuer, “Torah im Derech Eretz: A Hora’at Sha’ah?” Mitteilungen, vol. 26 (August – September 1965): 1-2 (German), and then translated into Hebrew as R. Joseph Breuer, “Torah ‘im Derekh Erez. —Hora’at Sha’ah?” ha-Ma’ayan, vol. 6, no. 4 (1966): 1-3 (Hebrew). See also Shnayer Z. Leiman, “Rabbinic Responses to Modernity,” Judaic Studies, no. 5 (Fall 2007): 1-122, available here, especially pp. 57-96 on R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, and esp. 84-85n122 on this article by R. Breuer. It is beyond the scope of this essay to explore this article by R. Schwab.
[17] R. Shimon Schwab, “Kristallnacht: A Historical Perspective,” in Selected Writings: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Jewish History and Contemporary Issues (New York: C.I.S, 1988), 81-87. See also R. Shimon Schwab, “Fifty Year After Kristallnacht,” in Selected Speeches: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Contemporary Issues and Jewish History (New York: C.I.S. Publishers, 1991), 30-36, the transcript of an address delivered at K’hal Adath Jeshurun on October 30, 1988.
[18] R. Shimon Schwab, “Kristallnacht: A Historical Perspective,” in Selected Writings: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Jewish History and Contemporary Issues (New York: C.I.S, 1988), 84-86.

For further on R. Samson Raphael Hirsch and Friedrich von Schiller, see the annotated translation of R. Samson Raphael Hirsch’s address delivered at “the Celebration of the Israelitischen Religionsgesellschaft’s School in Frankfurt am Main on November 9, 1859 on the Eve of the Schiller Festival,” which was first translated to English in Marc B. Shapiro, “Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch and Friedrich von Schiller,” Torah u-Madda Journal, vol. 15 (2008-2009): 172-187, available here. Several years later, in 2012, the official publication committee of R. Samson Raphael Hirsch’s writings for the Hirschian community published an English translation of R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, “Address Delivered on the Eve of the Schiller Centenary,” in The Collected Writings of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, vol. 9: Timeless Hashkafah (New York: Rabbi Dr. Joseph Breuer Foundation, 2012), 137-152, with the translation having been decades earlier by Gertrude Hirschler.
[19] R. Shimon Schwab, “Kristallnacht: A Historical Perspective,” in Selected Writings: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Jewish History and Contemporary Issues (New York: C.I.S, 1988), 86.
[20] Ibid. Also see Rav Schwab on Prayer, 54 where R. Schwab noted on November 10th, 1990, on the anniversary of Kristallnacht, that “this nation [Germany] of poets and thinkers’ was, at its core, really nothing but a horde of highly organized wild animals. All their developments in medicine, science, art, music, and philosophy did not make them one iota more human.”
[21] R. Shimon Schwab, “Torah Im Derech Eretz – A Second View,” in Selected Speeches: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Contemporary Issues and Jewish History (New York: C.I.S. Publishers, 1991), 236-252. In fact, in his Ma’ayan Beit Ha-Shoevah (Brooklyn: ArtScroll Mesorah, 1994), Parshat Yitro, 194 (Hebrew) he takes a more humanistic approach to explain the very same Midrash he mentioned as the lesson of Kristallnacht – “If a person tells you there is Torah among the nations of the world, do not believe him. However, if a person tells you there is wisdom among the gentiles, believe him (Eicha Rabba 2:13).
[22] R. Shimon Schwab, “Torah Im Derech Eretz – A Second View,” in Selected Speeches: A Collection of Addresses and Essays on Hashkafah, Contemporary Issues and Jewish History (New York: C.I.S. Publishers, 1991), 246.
[23] A reference to Eruvin 13b.
[24] R. Shimon Schwab, These and Those (New York: Feldheim, 1966), 40-42.
[25] For more on the development of R. Schwab’s position vis a vis Torah Im Derekh Eretz as well as his criticisms of Modern Orthodoxy and Torah u-Madda, see Zev Eleff, “American Orthodoxy’s Lukewarm Embrace of the Hirschian Legacy, 1850-1939,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 45, no. 3 (Fall 2012): 35-53, available here; and Zev Eleff, “Between Bennett and Amsterdam Avenues: The Complex American Legacy of Samson Raphael Hirsch, 1939-2013,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 46, no. 4 (Winter 2013): 8-27, esp. 20-26, available here.
[26] George Steiner, Language and Silence: Essays, 1958-1966 (London: Faber and Faber, 1967), 15-16.
[27] R. Aharon Lichtenstein, “Torah and General Culture: Confluence and Conflict,” in Jacob J. Schacter, ed., Judaism’s Encounter with Other Cultures – Rejection or Integration? (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, Inc, 1997), 217-292, quote at 316.
[28] Ibid., 317.
[29] Ionically, R. Lichtenstein was critical of R. Hirsch’s humanism. He wrote that, “it is precisely the sense of accommodation and concession – at times, even apologetics – that is persistent, if not pervasive. The humanism is genuine and genuinely Jewish; and yet at many points, the sense that we are dealing with an element that has been engrafted is inescapable.” See R. Aharon Lichtenstein, “Legitimization of Modernity: Classical and Contemporary,” in Moshe Z. Sokol, ed., Engaging Modernity: Rabbinic Leaders and the Challenge of the Twentieth Century (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, Inc., 1997), 3-33, quote at 30. See also R. Aharon Lichtenstein, “‘Mah Enosh’: Reflections on the Relation between Judaism and Humanism,” Torah u-Madda Journal, vol. 14 (2005-2006): 1-61, available here, where although he does not quote R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, he does quote from his son in Dr. Mendel Hirsch, Humanism and Judaism, trans. J. Gilbert (London: Beddo Press, 1928), at 51n2. See also Mendel Hirsch, “Humanism and Judaism,” in Jacob Breuer, ed., Fundamentals of Judaism: Selections from the works of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch and outstanding Torah-true thinkers (New York: The Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch Society, 1949), 167-179, available here. This critique predates R. Lichtenstein. See Gershom Scholem, “Politik der Mystik, Zu Isaac Breuer’s ‘Neuen Kusari’,” Jüdische Rundschau, vol. 39, no. 57 (17 July 1934): 1-2 (German), available here and cited in Mordechai Breuer, The Torah Im Derekh Eretz of R. S.R. Hirsch (New York: Feldheim, 1970), 61n117, available here.
[30] Dayan Isidor Grunfeld, Introduction to Horeb (London: Soncino, 1962), xciii.
[31] See R. Akiva’s statement in Avot (3:14), “Beloved is man for he was created in the image [of God].”
[32] R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, The Pentateuch, trans. Isaac Levy (London: L. Honig & Sons, 1959), Genesis 5:1.
[33] Dayan Isidor Grunfeld, Judaism Eternal, vol. 1: S.R. Hirsch – The Man and His Mission (London: Soncino, 1956), xx.
[34] R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, The Pentateuch, Genesis 3:11.
[35] Ibid.
[36] See the title of Jacob Breuer, ed., Timeless Torah: An Anthology of the Writings of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (New York: The Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch Society, 1957).

The “Doctored” Medical Diploma of Samuel, the Son of Menasseh Ben Israel:[1] Forgery or “For Jewry”?

Rabbi Edward Reichman, MD

Menasseh ben Israel is a prominent figure in Jewish history known for his role in the return of the Jews to England in the time of Oliver Cromwell, as well being the first to establish a Hebrew printing press in Holland.[2] Menasseh had two sons and a daughter. His son Samuel, born in 1625, was a Hebrew printer,[3] publishing a number of his father’s works, and also assisting his father with his diplomatic endeavors in England. Here we focus on another aspect of Samuel’s life- his medical career.

In a correspondence dating from the mid seventeenth century, we find information about Samuel’s medical training and degree. The letter, dated Tammuz, 5416 (1655), is from Yehuda Heller Wallerstein to Samuel Ben Israel. Yehuda writes from Salonica and reports how he encountered Jan Nicholas, the brother of Sir Edward Nicholas, British politician and advocate for the resettlement of the Jews in England, who enlightened him as to Samuel’s recent activities: “He informed me that in a short period of time you achieved great success in your study of the sciences and merited, with the assistance of Edward his brother, to present for examination before the professors of the University of Oxford, and to obtain the distinction, ‘Doctor of Medicine and Philosophy’.”[4]

There would appear to be no reason to doubt this account. Menasseh was certainly connected to the influential Sir Edward Nicholas, whose work advocating for the Jews return to England he translated. Samuel is in fact known to have been a physician. However, this account is found in the writings of Abraham Shalom Friedberg, master of historical fiction. While Samuel is an historical figure, Heller Wallerstein is a likely a figment of the author’s imagination and the letters are primarily a vehicle to explore the historical chapter of Shabbetai Zevi, the false messiah, for which this account of the diploma is only peripheral.

The only historical source, upon which the remainder of this fanciful account revolves, is a medical diploma from the University of Oxford granted to Samuel ben Israel on May 6, 1655,[5] and even the veracity of this document is suspect. A number of historians have discussed this diploma, primarily through the lens of Samuel’s famous father Menasseh, and have concluded that it is a forgery. Here we introduce a new perspective to this discussion and view the diploma from the vantage point of Jewish medical history, an aspect strikingly absent from previous discussions. It is only through this lens that we can gain an accurate assessment of its content and context. Was it really a forgery, or merely a product of the historical realities of its age?

A Word on the Medical Training of Menasseh ben Israel, Samuel’s Father

As a backdrop to our discussion about Samuel’s medical training, it is instructive to analyze the medical qualifications and practice of his father. Aside from his activities as a rabbi, statesman and author, Menasseh was also a physician.[6] The medical face of Menasseh has received scant treatment by historians, and perhaps for good reason. It was clearly not a major aspect of his daily life or contribution to Jewish history. His medical personality was manifest only peripherally or secondarily, and inconsistently as well. Nonetheless, understanding Menasseh’s medical identity sheds light not only on Jewish medical history in general, but also on his son’s medical training.

In a number of published works Menasseh refers to himself as a physician. In his letter to the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth, published in 1655, the very same year as Samuel’s diploma, he is identified as a “Doctor of Physick.”

In the work below from 1656 he is called a physician:

Menasseh also referred to himself as “Medicus Hebraeus.”[7] This title was also used to describe Ephraim Bueno, a prominent Amsterdam physician, as well as a friend and supporter of Menasseh.[8] Furthermore, his connection to medicine is reflected in his translation of the aphorisms of Hippocrates into Hebrew [9] and his relationships with a number of physicians.[10]

To my knowledge there is no record of Menasseh obtaining a medical diploma or graduating from a university. One scholar writes, without reference, that he attended medical school at the University of Groningen for a short time, though apparently did not complete his degree.[11] I have seen no evidence to corroborate this assertion and the university has no record of his matriculation in their archives.[12]

Menasseh’s identification as a physician was not consistent. In some works, the medical title is omitted:

Another curious fact is that Menasseh’s Hebrew writings make no mention whatsoever of his role or title as a physician, nor have I seen him identified as a rofeh in any Hebrew literature. Roth suggests that he may have practiced, though evidence is lacking, and that he included his address when he identified as a physician in his English works as a form of advertising.[13] The tombstone of Menasseh in the Ouderkerk Cemetery does not bear the title doctor or physician.[14]

While historians are wont to call Samuel’s diploma a forgery, his own father considered himself a physician without obtaining a degree or diploma. Should we not, to be consistent, consider Menasseh an imposter physician?

Essential to our assessment of the medical titles and careers of both Menasseh and his son is an understanding of the training of Jewish physicians at this period in history. While today the notion of a physician without formal university training culminating in a diploma is anathema, not to mention criminal, this was simply not the case in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, particularly for the Jew. In fact, Jews were universally barred from attending or graduating universities, which were invariably under the auspices of the Catholic Church. Graduation from universities, such as Oxford, included and required statements or oaths avowing one’s belief in Christianity.

This did not prevent Jews from becoming physicians. They pursued an alternate medical educational pathway comprised of independent learning and clinical training through apprenticeship.[15] This enabled them to take licensing exams and earn the title doctor. Some simply self-identified as a physician or rofeh by virtue of their extensive training. The overwhelming majority of Jewish physicians trained through this alternate pathway, and it is likely that Menasseh is counted amongst them. Once universities began to open their doors to Jewish students,[16] a number of academically motivated students chose this conventional pathway. These university-trained physicians initially accounted for only a small percentage of the health professionals in the Jewish community. Thus, the title “rofeh” or “doctor” in this period was not specifically associated with a university degree.[17]

The Medical Diploma of Samuel ben Israel

The full text of Samuel’s medical diploma was first printed by Koenen in 1843.[18] Koenen raises no doubts whatsoever as to the veracity of the document and publishes it, without discussion, comment or context, as part of a collection of important documents in Dutch Jewish history. Through what training or means Samuel attained this diploma is entirely omitted.

After its publication, the diploma was initially accepted by historians and scholars without question. For example, G. I. Polak wrote that Samuel, through extraordinary skill and acumen, was able to obtain his degree in medicine and philosophy from Oxford.[19] Some even took the liberty to provide additional details. For example, Graetz writes in his classic History of the Jews:[20]

Samuel ben Israel … was presented by the University of Oxford, in consideration of his knowledge and natural gifts, with the degree of Doctor of Philosophy and Medicine, and according to custom, received the gold ring, the biretta, and the kiss of peace.[21]

Where could Graetz have derived this detailed information? It actually appears in the Latin text of Samuel’s diploma, which describes the features of the classic graduation ceremony for European universities during this period. The biretta, often called the Oxford Cap, is the ancestor of our contemporary four-cornered graduation cap.

The scholar Adolph Neubauer appears to have been the first person to suspect something was not kosher with Samuel’s credentials, and at his behest, in 1876, Richard Griffith, the Keeper of the Archive at the University of Oxford reviewed the text of the diploma.[22] The following are the summary points of his analysis:[23]

• Samuel is not mentioned in the Registers of the university as having ever attended or received a degree.
• Degrees from Oxford were not issued in the month of May, the date of the diploma.
• The diploma is signed by two specific people, while the typical Oxford degree is conferred by the university and bears a seal, without the signature of any specific person.
• The degree is granted in both philosophy and medicine, and Oxford never granted degrees in philosophy, either alone or combined with medicine.
• There are multiple phrases not used in the Oxford diploma and multiple procedural aspects referred to that simply were not part of Oxford’s protocols.

Griffith’s inescapable conclusion is that this is unequivocally not a genuine Oxford diploma. His analysis is unassailable. Griffiths was certainly familiar with the text of the medical degrees from Oxford during Samuel’s time; indeed, he literally wrote the book on the subject.[24]

Based on Griffith’s analysis, Samuel’s diploma is so fundamentally different than the standard Oxford diploma, there would seem to be no reason to obtain an actual Oxford diploma from that time to further compare the two. Even if one were to consider such a comparison, it would be challenging if not impossible to find an extant diploma from Oxford contemporary with Samuel. In response to my query, the Oxford Archives today responded that they do not possess any diplomas from this period, nor, for that matter, are they aware of any held elsewhere. The archivist added that they cannot be sure that diplomas or degree certificates, in the sense we understand the term, were even created or issued at Oxford from the 15th to the 17th centuries. As mentioned, there was however a specific template and wording associated with the granting of degrees at Oxford,[25] and the graduate would receive some confirmation of their degree, albeit perhaps not a formal diploma in the classic sense. The document did however bear the university seal. It is upon this Oxford template that Griffith based his analysis.

After negating any connection to Oxford, Griffith adds that the diploma was rather an adaptation of a form then used by the University of Padua, “with alterations willfully and insufficiently made.” Griffith was familiar with the Padua diploma template from his Oxford position for a curious reason. In the seventeenth century many graduates in medicine desiring to practice in England obtained their degrees outside of the United Kingdom, often at the University of Padua. In order to practice in England, the graduate had to be “incorporated” into either the University of Oxford or Cambridge. As a prerequisite to incorporation the students were required to present their diplomas/degrees from the granting institution.[26]

The Location of the “Original” Diploma

While Koenen published the full text of Samuel’s diploma, he makes no reference as to the location of the original document. Roth notes that he received a photo of the diploma from the Montezinos Library (known today as Ets Haim- Livraria Montezinos) in Amsterdam. A catalogue of the library holdings from 1927[27] states that the library possessed copies of the first and last pages of the diploma, though not the original.[28] The Ets Haim Library today does not have a record of the diploma photographs.[29] I reached out as well to the Bibliotheca Rosenthaliana, the other major Jewish historical collection in Amsterdam, to see if perhaps the diploma ended up there, which it did not.[30] I also contacted the Roth Collection at the University of Leeds to see if perhaps Roth’s copies of the diploma are kept there, and to my dismay, they likewise have no record of Samuel’s diploma.[31]

Without the actual document, it is impossible to definitively comment on its veracity. Access to the original would allow analysis of the ink and paper for dating. Even access to the copies would be useful. For example, the diploma contains signatures of two faculty members of the University of Oxford. A comparative graphological analysis with known signatures of these men could easily confirm the document’s origin. Regretfully, I have access to neither the “original,” nor the copies. I nonetheless offer additional information and analysis in defense of a Jewish physician accused of forgery in the hopes of restoring his reputation. Absent such essential material information for my case, you may feel free to conclude that my diploma (analysis) is a forgery of sorts. I hope to nonetheless persuade you to drop the charges of forgery, though definitive proof beyond a shadow of a doubt awaits the discovery of the “original” diploma.

Was the diploma a forgery?[32]

Samuel’s diploma was beyond doubt not an official Oxford-issued document, as Griffith details, but was it necessarily a forgery? All historians to date familiar with Griffith’s analysis assume the answer to be a resounding yes, some even labelling it a “brazen” forgery.[33] There is no evidence of any suspicion of the document’s veracity during the lifetime of its bearer. As to when the document was supposedly forged, while the theoretical possibility exists that the diploma was a product of the nineteenth century, Roth convincingly dismisses this theory. He concludes, “The hypothesis of a nineteenth-century fabrication may thus be definitely ruled out.”[34] We are thus left with the universally accepted belief that Samuel forged his own diploma.

Kayserling notes that Menasseh, and thus Samuel, had not yet visited England in May of 1655, the date of the document. This would seemingly conclude the case for forgery and leave little room for discussion. Roth however subsequently rejected this assertion upon finding record in the Calendar of State Papers of the period (documents not accessible to his predecessors and only then recently made available) that Samuel had been sent ahead to England prior to his father and was indeed there at that time.[35] 

The accumulated evidence is certainly suggestive of forgery, but is it dispositive? Could there be another plausible explanation behind this diploma? I would like to suggest that its rejection as an official Oxford diploma does not inexorably lead to a verdict of forgery. By placing this diploma into the larger context of Jewish medical training and diplomas, as well as comparing Samuel’s diploma to other known medical diploma forgeries of the time, specifically for the universities of Padua and Oxford, we may be able to offer another alternative to criminality for one not known to be inclined to such behavior, not to mention being the son of a prominent Jewish rabbi and statesman. I endeavor at minimum, to prove reasonable doubt regarding the accusation of forgery.

Griffith’s Omission and the “Jewish” Diploma

Griffith correctly asserts that Samuel’s diploma is modeled after that of Padua. There is however, a key aspect of this supposed forgery that has previously gone unnoticed. What Griffith did not mention, nor was he likely aware, is that the diplomas issued to Jewish students in Padua often differed in a number of ways from the standard university issue. While there was no specific Jewish diploma template per se, as the standard diploma contained a number of Christian references, the diplomas of Jewish graduates invariably contain some combination of omissions or emendations to the standard text.

As part of our investigation into the diploma’s possible forgery, it is important to ascertain whether Samuel’s diploma is a copy of a standard Padua diploma or one of the Jewish variety. Below we list a few of the typical changes found in Padua diplomas of Jewish medical graduates of Samuel’s period, providing examples of each. We then compare them to Samuel’s diploma.

1. The Headline of the Diploma

The most obvious change to the Jewish diploma meets the eye of the reader immediately upon viewing the document. The headline of the typical diploma reads, “In Christi Nomine Amen” (in the name of Christ, Amen), and it usually appears in larger decorative font, occasionally occupying an entire page.

William Harvey’s Medical Diploma (Padua 1602)

This would clearly have been objectionable to the Jewish student. The diplomas of the Jewish students were therefore usually emended to read, “In Dei Aeterni Nomine” (in the name of the eternal God), or some variation thereof.

Below are a number of emended diplomas of Jewish students:

Diploma of Isaac Hellen (Padua, 1649)[36]

Diploma of Emanuel Colli (Padua, 1682)[37]

2. The Date

There are number of ways the year of the degree could appear on the typical diploma, and all of them include Christian reference. Examples include Anno Domini, Anno a Christi Nativitate, and Anno Christiano. Two typical examples are below.

Diploma of Giulio Antonio (1679)[38]

Diploma of John Wallace (around 1618)[39]

The date was unaltered for many Jewish diplomas

Diploma of Jacob Levi (Padua, 1684)[40]

Diploma of Isaac Hellen (Padua, 1649)

In some Jewish diplomas however, the Christian reference is omitted, and the date is listed as “currente anno,” current year.

Diploma of Moise Tilche (Padua, 1687)[41]

Diploma of Lazzaro De Mordis (Padua, 1699)[42]

The date alone is not a reliable indicator of the “Jewishness” of the diploma.

3. The Location of the Graduation Ceremony

The graduation ceremony for the Catholic medical students was held in the Episcopal Palace and this was recorded in the diploma:

Diploma of Giulio Antonio (Padua, 1679)

The degrees of the Jewish students were not granted in the Episcopal Palace, but rather in non-ecclesiastical venues. As such, the words “Episcopali Palatio” are omitted, leaving the phrase “in loco solito examinu,” (in the usual place of examination).[43]

Diploma of Isaac Hellen (Padua, 1649)

This is the case in virtually all Jewish diplomas.

4. Hebreus or Iudeus

There is one feature of the typical Jewish diploma that is not an emendation or omission, but rather an addition. With few exceptions, the Jewish students were identified as Hebreus or Iudeus. This was the convention in Padua for centuries and was found in other Italian universities as well.[43]

Diploma of Isaac Hellen (Padua, 1649)

Diploma of Emanuel Colli (Padua, 1682)

Diploma of Moise Tilche (Padua, 1687)

There are a few exceptions:

Diploma of Moysis Crespino (Padua, 1647)[45]

Notarized Copy of Diploma of Abraham Wallich (Padua, 1655)[46]

Abraham Wallich graduated Padua in 1655, the same year as Samuel’s diploma. His original diploma is not extant, though we have a notarized copy that he presented to the Jewish community of Frankfurt as proof of his credentials. In this copy, the identifiers of Hebreus or Iudeus do not appear. I suggest that “Iudeus” could have in fact appeared in his original diploma and was possibly omitted here by the copyist. As Wallich was a religious Jew applying to a Jewish institution, it would have been superfluous to add “Hebreus.”

5. The Details of the Graduation Ceremony.

The standard Padua diploma also included a description of the graduation ceremony. This was not altered in the Jewish diplomas as the Jewish students participated in this ceremony, albeit with some changes. While the location may have been different, and perhaps the oath would have been tailored for the Jewish student, the core of the ceremony for the Jewish student otherwise remained the same. A remarkable pictorial testimony to this fact is the diploma of Moise di Pellegrino (AKA Moshe ben Gershon) Tilche, who graduated Padua in 1687.[47]

Underneath the portrait of the graduate is the illustration, represented with putti, of the features of the graduation ceremony of Padua.

This ceremony involved a golden ring, a wreath and a hat, known as a biretta (though not the four-cornered variety). The opening and closing of books as a representation of the transmission of knowledge was also a part of the ceremony.

Was Samuel’s Diploma modeled after a standard or “Jewish” Diploma from Padua?

In review of the Jewish diplomas from Padua of Samuel’s day, the headline was consistently altered, as was the location of the graduation. The typical Christian recording of the year of graduation was occasionally, though not uniformly altered. The majority of the Jewish graduates, with few exceptions, were identified as either Iudeus or Hebreus.

Which of these additions, omissions or alterations appear in Samuel’s diploma?

1. The Headline

In his article republishing the existing material on Samuel’s diploma, Neubauer writes, “in order to make the documents concerning this degree accessible to the Anglo-Jewish public, I shall reproduce here the Latin diploma line by line (Neubauer’s emphasis) as given by Koenen.” The text of the diploma he provides begins as follows:

In the original publication by Koenen however, the diploma begins with a short phrase:

Neubauer omitted the introductory words, “In Nomine Dei, Amen,” perhaps assuming they were not part of the diploma, or simply noncontributory to the text. In fact, these four words are crucial in identifying the nature of Samuel’s diploma and reflect one of the major differences found virtually ubiquitously in the Jewish diplomas of Padua.

2. Date

A typical Christian date is used.

3. Location of Graduation

The location of the ceremony is given as the Academy of Oxford.

4. Hebreus or Iudeus

The identifier Hebreus or Iudeus is not found in Samuel’s diploma.

The headline in Samuel’s diploma is clearly consistent with the Jewish form of diploma. The date is of a Christian format, Anno Christiano, and the location is listed simply as Oxford with no reference to an ecclesiastical venue.

The identifier “Hebreus” is conspicuously absent. To be sure, there were certainly other examples where this was true. However, the omission in Samuel’s case is noteworthy, as his own father, Menasseh, self-identified as Medicus Hebreus, as did other Jewish physicians in Amsterdam, such as Ephraim Bueno. Surely the son would have adopted the title of the father.

In sum, the headline of Samuel’s diploma, a crucial element in determining its style, conforms to the Jewish Padua diploma, as does the venue for the degree, which is non-ecclesiastic. While the date retains the Christian reference, this is non-contributory. Samuel’s diploma does however omit the typical Jewish identifier of Hebreus, a title specifically used by his own father, a fact that begs explanation.

Other Medical Diploma Forgeries of the Seventeenth Century

If Samuel’s diploma were indeed a forgery, it would be the only known case of a forged medical diploma by a Jewish physician in the pre-Modern era. To be sure, there have been numerous forgeries of diplomas, including the medical variety, throughout history. Below we discuss two forgeries of the same historical period as Samuel and purported to be from the two very institutions with which Samuel’s diploma is associated. These may shed light on our forgery discussion.

A Forged Medical Diploma from Padua 1628

The diploma of John Wallace sat in the Royal College of Physicians for centuries, assumed to be genuine. It was only recently that Dr. Fabrizio Bigotti took a closer look at the diploma, revealing that it was a clear forgery.[48] Below you see the latinized name of Wallace clearly written in a different pen and different hand than that of the original diploma.

The year of graduation, 1628, was also altered.

The date was proven to be fake, as the authentic signatures at the end of the diploma include Fabrici d’Acquapendente and Adrian van de Spiegel, both of whom had died by 1628. The true date is assumed to be around 1618.

In this case of forgery, Wallace procured an existing diploma and replaced the name and date with his own. There is apparently no record of his medical practice, so it is unclear if his forgery was successful. Perhaps he forged this diploma with intent to present to Oxford for incorporation. I do not know if the RCP checked the Oxford Register of Congregation for the relevant years.[49]

The Frankland Forgery of an Oxford Diploma[50]

In the diary entry for Anthony Wood, Oxford antiquary, for November 15, 1677, we find the following:[51]

Frankland first presented his false credentials in 1667.[52] He was apparently a haughty and disagreeable man disliked by his colleagues at the college. It was his juniors who raised suspicion about his credentials and privately inquired of Dr. Hyde, King’s Professor of Physic, as well as the registrar, to verify his documents. The forgery was confirmed by Oxford in November 1677,[53] when it was determined that Frankland was not listed in the Medical School Register and that he had forged the university seal.[54] Furthermore, Frankland defrauded Cambridge University, which granted him a medical degree solely on the basis of his previously obtained Oxford diploma. Frankland not only forged the university seal of Oxford, which was an integral part of the official document, he seems to have added an element to the diploma which was a tip off as to its forgery. Dr. Brady of Cambridge reported:[55]

This exact issue was also identified by Griffith as one of the elements of Samuel’s diploma that deviated from Oxford protocols. Of course, with Samuel’s diploma, this was one of many deviations from Oxford’s template; for Frankland, this was more essential in identifying the forgery.

These two forgeries from Samuel’s period, and from the very institutions associated with his diploma are instructive. If Samuel was truly a forger, could or should he have pursued the methods of Wallace or Frankland?

A Padua Diploma Forgery ala Wallace

Forging a genuine Padua diploma would have been more challenging than one from Oxford for a number of reasons, both technical and cultural. While objectively few Jewish students attended the University of Padua Medical School,[56] it was the main address for Jewish students wishing to obtain a university medical degree. While far from Amsterdam, the Jews of Europe were all connected. In addition, Amsterdam was a hub of Jewish printing and a number of works by Italian authors were printed there. A forged medical diploma could possibly have been detected by Italian visitors. It would have been risky.

From a technical perspective, the Padua diploma, in Italian Renaissance fashion, was copiously illustrated and meticulously calligraphed, often including a portrait of the graduate. A number of these diplomas are extant in libraries and private collections.[57] It would have been exceedingly difficult to replicate the diploma itself, not to mention that it was typically bound in a gilded leather binding with official wax seals attached by thread.

Picture Courtesy of Professor Fabrizio Bigotti

All these accoutrements would have made the endeavor of forgery prohibitive from the outset.

There could have been another option for a Padua diploma forgery. Abraham Wallach had a notarized copy of his 1655 Padua diploma made for his job application as a community physician in Frankfurt.[58]

Beginning of the copy of the diploma:

Notarization of the diploma:

Perhaps Samuel could have created a similar “notarized” copy, which would not have required the artistry or associated binding and seals. This option would likely not have sufficed for Samuel, who as the “graduate,” would have been expected to possess and present the original.

Could Samuel have obtained an existing Padua diploma and simply replaced the name of the graduate with his own, as Wallace had done? This would certainly have been easier than forging the diploma de novo. However, recall that the Padua diplomas of the Jewish students had some alterations, the most obvious one being the headline change from In Christi Nomine to In Dei Aeterne Nomine, not to mention other more subtle, less noticeable changes. Samuel would have had to procure an old diploma that previously belonged to a Jewish student, an impossible task.

An Oxford Diploma ala Frankland

Should Samuel have created a diploma more in line with the actual Oxford model, as Frankland, whose forged university seal and diploma were sufficient to fool even the Royal College of Physicians and Cambridge University? Had he produced a Frankland-esque diploma no one would have suspected otherwise, as no Jew had ever obtained or presented an Oxford diploma before. While this could have been an ideal forgery,[59] I suggest below why this may not have served Samuel’s needs.

The Medical Training and Practice of Samuel ben Menasseh

Irrespective of the veracity of his diploma, Samuel appears to have been a practicing physician. Samuel is listed as a physician by both Steinschneider[60] and Koren,[61] each of whom provides additional references. He is also listed in an early twentieth century work among a group of exceptionally prominent Jewish physicians across the ages.[62] Moreover, his tombstone identifies him as a physician. To my knowledge we do not have any specific account of his clinical practice.

As we have no direct evidence as to how Samuel trained in medicine, we can only surmise based on the general climate of Jewish medical training at the time, coupled with whatever fragmentary evidence we have of Samuel’s personal medical exposure.

Samuel had personal exposure to both the apprenticeship and university pathways of medical training. His father most likely obtained his education through the apprenticeship pathway. Samuel certainly could have learned the medical art from his father Menasseh, though the biographies of Menasseh reveal that he had little time, if any, for the practice of medicine. It would have been difficult for Samuel to acquire comprehensive medical knowledge without prolonged extensive clinical exposure, something his father could not provide.

Though Menasseh himself may not have had the time to mentor his son, he could have delegated the task to one of his physician colleagues.[63] Ephraim Bueno, for example, was a prominent physician in Amsterdam with whom Menasseh had a relationship.[64] Bueno supported Menasseh’s first publication.[65] They also both shared the distinction of having their portraits drawn by Rembrandt.[66] Perhaps Samuel apprenticed with, or at the very least, was inspired by Bueno.

Had he desired, Samuel could have obtained a formal university medical degree. In the early part of the seventeenth century, this would only have been possible in Italy, and primarily at the University of Padua. Traveling to Padua, however, would entail leaving the family and other potential hardships, such as the language barrier. Fortunately, beginning in the mid-century universities in the Netherlands (primarily Leiden), following in the footsteps of Padua, began opening their doors to Jewish medical students for the first time.[67] In fact, Samuel’s cousin Josephus Abarbanel, who also lived in Amsterdam, graduated from the University of Leiden on June 2, 1655, just a few weeks after Samuel received his Oxford diploma.[68]

Which option/pathway did Samuel choose? Though his diploma is Padua-esque, there is no record of Samuel attending the University of Padua. There is also no record of his attendance or graduation from any school in the Netherlands.

Samuel certainly would not have attended the University of Oxford as a student. Professing Jews were not allowed there. Moreover, it would also have required his presence in England for a prolonged period, which, by all accounts was not the case. Roth writes regarding the likelihood of Samuel obtaining an Oxford degree, “it was as difficult for a Jew to be graduated from it (Oxford) as it would have been for an anthropoid ape.”[69] This unwelcoming climate for the Jews persisted even long after the return of the Jews to England.[70] In fact, in Herman Adler’s lecture on the Jews of England in the late nineteenth century, he comments on the medical degree of Samuel, which he assumed to be authentic: “This fact (granting a medical diploma to the Jew Samuel ben Israel) would seem to show that the university was more enlightened in the year 1655 than it is in 1870.”[71]

Samuel’s “For Jewry” Diploma

I suggest that Samuel trained primarily through the apprenticeship pathway but requested and received university acknowledgement or imprimatur of his medical education and knowledge. The diploma was thus an affirmation of Samuel’s expertise attested to by members of the Oxford faculty. As opposed to today, when a student must attend a certain number of years in a university as a prerequisite to obtaining a degree, universities often gave exams and imprimatur to those who studied elsewhere, either formally or not, but passed the required examination demonstrating the required knowledge and competence. This could explain the unusual nature of the diploma he procured from Oxford.

While many Jewish physicians in this period practiced freely without university education or diplomas, there may have been an additional impetus for Samuel to procure this affirmation from Oxford. The Dutch were generally known for their tolerance, but this apparently did not extend to the Jews and the practice of medicine. According to historians, “Although Jews with foreign degrees were permitted to engage in medicine as general practitioners, tolerance was not extended to tertiary education.”[72] Thus, even though Samuel may have been qualified to practice by virtue of his apprenticeship, and could have practiced freely in other European countries, his practice in the Netherlands would have been limited without a foreign degree.[73]

Do the existing facts and diploma support this theory?

The Signatories

The two signatories on Samuel’s diploma were Dr. John Owen and Dr. Clayton at Oxford. Owen was a friend of Cromwell and Vice Chancellor of the University at that time. Thomas Clayton was Regius Professor of Medicine at Oxford from 1647 to 1665. These were not fictional characters, and if one were to obtain an affirmation of medical knowledge or education, these would be the perfectly appropriate people to attest to such a document. Given Menasseh’s connections, it is not inconceivable that he utilized his influence to arrange for his son’s exams, or that they acceded to Samuel’s request out of deference to Menasseh.

The Absence from the Oxford Register

Griffith highlights the fact that Samuel’s degree is not found in the Oxford Register. Indeed, no professing Jews were listed in the register at Oxford at that time. According to our theory, this absence from the Register is no proof of forgery. There was not the slightest thought of entering this exchange into the official university Register, as not only did it not meet the standard protocols, the recipient was also of the Jewish faith and expressly precluded from such a privilege. Samuel may have assured the examiners that he had no intention of practicing in the United Kingdom, a fact that would have made it easier for them to feel comfortable affixing their names to the document.

Likelihood of Exposure

If indeed Samuel were prone to deceit, what is the likelihood his rouse would have been discovered? His father would certainly have realized.[74] The very purpose of Samuel’s trip was to pave the path for his father’s visit. Samuel was thus expecting his father to later visit England and likely interact with the very same people he did. Indeed, Menasseh appears to have visited Oxford.[75] Surely Samuel’s diploma would have come up in conversation, if only peripherally. This alone could have served as a deterrent for forgery. Additionally, John Owen, a signatory on the diploma, was a close friend of Cromwell’s, and a forgery could have been revealed through this avenue. If one were to arbitrarily choose Oxford faculty for a fake diploma, better not to choose someone whose trail could ultimately lead to disclosure.

A forgery would have been suspected, if not revealed, from another source. Samuel’s cousin Joseph Abarbanel completed his medical training in Leiden at the very same time as Samuel’s diploma was issued, and also lived in Amsterdam. He surely would have been suspicious if Samuel suddenly started practicing medicine after a forged Oxford diploma emerged de novo and appeared, metaphorically, framed on Samuel’s office wall.

The Text of the Diploma- An Oxford-Padua Synthesis ala Samuel ben Menasseh

Working with our new theory, which type of diploma would Samuel have procured or designed had he genuinely presented to Oxford and successfully passed oral exams from the university faculty? This would not have been an official, formal process, but rather a unique private opportunity to confirm his medical expertise with the Oxford faculty. As this was a personalized, non-institutional diploma, the examiners would not have much cared or paid attention as to the diploma’s format and could have left the document particulars to Samuel.

I suggest, therefore, that Samuel designed the document in a way that would best serve his needs and would be well-received by his Jewish clientele in the Netherlands. A brief informal text with attestation from the Oxford professors would have been unfamiliar and unimpressive to his Jewish patients.[76] Virtually the only diploma a Jewish university-trained physician would have possessed in this period is a diploma from the University of Padua.[77] He therefore utilized the familiar Padua template, as awkward and inconsistent with Oxford’s typical diploma it may have been. Furthermore, he made sure to use the emended headline and non-ecclesiastic venue consistent with the “Jewish” diploma.

Why did Samuel not include the term “Hebreus,” which would surely have been familiar to the Jewish viewers of the diploma, not to mention following in the path of his father, who was known as “Medicus Hebraeus?” It is possible that Samuel would have specifically omitted this title given the history of the degree-granting institution. Professing Jews were categorically precluded from attending or graduating Oxford. While the signators may not have paid close attention to the details of the diploma, the word Hebreus after Samuel’s name would likely have caught their eye, especially as it appears adjacent to the graduate’s name.

There are numerous elements in the diploma that were simply untrue. For example, included is a description of the graduation, as cited by Graetz. Did Samuel actually participate in a formal graduation from Oxford? Whether Samuel obtained a genuine diploma of some sort from Oxford can be debated, but there is no doubt that as a professing Jew in England at this time he would never have participated in any formal graduation ceremony. Samuel may have disregarded these details favoring style over substance in order to achieve his objective. The signators would likely not have bothered to analyze the text.

Not a single Jew would have known the difference, let alone read the Latin document, nor would they have questioned further.[78] They would have seen a document that appeared in style and largely in substance similar to the diplomas they had seen previously. Samuel’s father would have been proud of his son’s accomplishment, as would his cousin Josephus Abrabanel, who later graduated from Leiden. Menasseh could also have personally thanked Drs. Owens and Clayton for their kindness when he visited Oxford a short time later. If this construct is true then Samuel’s diploma would not have been a forgery, but rather “for Jewry,” being designed intentionally with the Jewish community in mind, and in the context of Jewish medical history.

Postscript

Whether forged on not, Samuel sadly had but little time to utilize the Oxford diploma dated May 1655. Later that month he returned to Amsterdam, diploma in hand, to persuade his father to go to England and personally lay his case before Cromwell. Two years later, Manasseh ben Israel arrived in London, accompanied by Samuel. Samuel tragically died during their stay. In accordance with Samuel’s dying wish, Manasseh ben Israel conveyed his son’s corpse back to Holland where he was buried on 2 Tishrei, 5418. Below is a picture of the grave of Samuel ben Israel in the Middleburg Cemetery, 1912, shortly after it was renovated.[79]

Here is a picture of the grave and tombstone today:[80]

His medical identity is forever enshrined on his tombstone, where he is referred to as “Doctor Semuel.”[81]

Roth writes, “It seems obvious that the honorific description (on the tombstone) has its basis the supposed Oxford degree.”[82] I beg to differ. Many Jewish physicians were trained through apprenticeship and never obtained university degrees, Samuel’s own father being a case in point, and they were nonetheless known as physicians. I believe Samuel could have been such a physician.

Menasseh himself died shortly thereafter on Nov. 20, 1657, before reaching his home at Middelburg, Zealand.

Which account is closer to the truth? Was Samuel an ambitious and accomplished student of medicine, honestly earning some form of an Oxford diploma, perhaps not unlike Friedberg’s description at the beginning of this article; or was he an unabashed imposter possessing no medical training, brazenly forging a medical diploma, and practicing medicine without proper training? Historians have been quick to condemn Samuel, though they have neglected to incorporate the history of Jewish medical training into their analyses. Ultimately, I suggest that the truth lies in the chasm between these two polar extremes. Closer to which one? I leave to the reader to decide. At the very minimum I believe we have provided enough evidence to at least create reasonable doubt as to whether Samuel the son of the right honorable Menasseh ben Israel committed willful forgery of his medical diploma.

Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) Ashkenazi: A Renaissance Rabbi of Interest[1]

by Marvin J. Heller

R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) is a sixteenth century rabbi of particular interest. An intriguing, eclectic, and erudite figure, his life encompasses events that effected mid-century Jewry, recorded in his work. His books, two only published, are varied and unusual, one due to its subject matter, cryptography, the other a response to the banning of the Talmud and, as a result, turning from study of that work to Kabballah. His Minhah Belulah attempting a returning to more traditional studies by providing a Torah commentary based on Midrashim.

“From His right hand He presented the fiery Torah to them” (Deuteronomy 33:2). “The Torah is compared to fire, when a man comes too close, he is burned, when too distant he is cold, so too the Torah . . . this also alludes to the great destruction our eyes have witnessed, due to our many iniquities” (Minhah Belulah on Deuteronomy 33:2)

R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport, 1520 – 1596) Ashkenazi is an intriguing, eclectic, erudite figure. He is primarily remembered today for his Minhah Belulah, a commentary on the Torah based on Midrashim and his remarks in that work on the burning of the Talmud in 1553.[2] The Minhah Belulah, certainly worthy of our consideration, eclipses Abraham Menahem’s other accomplishments, which are multifaceted and also deserving of attention. This article addresses the Minhah Belulah but is also intended to draw attention to R. Abraham Menahem’s other books and activities.

A member of the Porto family which came to Italy from Lublin, Abraham Menahem was born in Porto in the vicinity of Verona. The family name Rapa stems from the German (Rappe in Middle High German), for raven. Rappoport is a combination of the Rapa, with Porto, done to distinguish this branch of the family from other Rapa branches, a fact alluded to in the introduction to the Minhah Belulah. At a young age Abraham Menahem went to Venice where he studied secular as well as rabbinic subjects, particularly medicine; his wide scholarship being evident from his works, particularly his Torah commentary, Minhah Belulah (Verona, 1594).

His teachers included R. Elijah Levita (Bahur, c. 1468-1549) the renowned Hebrew philologist and Vittore (Victor) Trincavella (1496-1568) with whom he studied medicine, this in addition to his traditional Talmudic studies.[3] Subsequently, prior to accepting a rabbinic position, Abraham Menahem worked in Venice as a proofreader and editor for the Bragadin press; many of the books he edited have introductions or verse from him. Among the books that he worked on was Maimonides’ (Rambam) Mishnah Torah, that resulted in the controversy leading to the burning of the Talmud.[4] He would subsequently serve as rabbi in Cremona and Verona.[5] In the latter, where he officiated from 1584 to 1592, Abraham Menahem also headed a highly regarded yeshiva.

In addition to the Minhah Belulah, Abraham Menahem wrote and/or is credited with several other works, most still in manuscript, among them commentaries on several books of the Bible and Avot. I. T. Eisenstadt and S. Wiener ascribe another Torah commentary to Abraham Menahem, Soles Belulah, but there is no record of any such work by him. Soles Belulah is also noted, most briefly, by R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai (Hida, 1724-1806).[6] Moritz Steinschneider (1816-1907) also refers to such a book, the entry in his catalogue of the Bodleian Library stating: “excerpta in Bibliis Rabb,” dating it (1724-27). Steinschneider also references other bibliographies where it is mentioned.[7] Ma’amar’al Mezi’ut ha-Shedim, unpublished, on the existence of devils, is also credited to Abraham Menahem by several bibliographers, among them Eisenstadt and S. Wiener and Israel Zinberg, the latter writing that “A special work about spirits and evil ones was written by the well-known Menahem Kohen Porto” but without specifying the title of the work.[8] In addition to these books, Abraham Menahem wrote responsa, unpublished excepting one entitled Dagim, printed in R. Isaac Hezkiah ben Samuel Lampronti’s (1679-1756) Paḥad Yitzhak.[9] Another responsum credited to Abraham Menahem concerns the wearing of tefillin during hol ha-Moed, reported as being in Teshuvot R. Abraham Menahem Porto ha-Kohen, sect. 163.[10]

Abraham Menahem was among those who prohibited reading the Me’or Einayim (Mantua, 1573) of Azariah de Rossi (c. 1511 – c. 1578). Me’or Einayim (Enlightenment of the eyes) was the most controversial Hebrew book of the sixteenth century. A series of historical essays, de Rossi was motivated to write it by an earthquake that began on November 18, 1571, in Ferrara, destroying his residence, much of the city, but not its ten synagogues, with 200 people perishing in one night. In Me’or Einayim, de Rossi describes the earthquake, and addresses classical and scientific reasons for the disaster. A conversation with a Christian resulted in Azariah translating the Apocryphal, Letter of Aristeas, into Hebrew (Hadrat Zekenim), and in the third part of Me’or Einayim attention is directed to Philo, and other Jewish authors no longer widely read, asserting that the former utilized the Greek Septuagint rather than the Hebrew Bible. De Rossi suggests that Midrashic literature should not be understood literally and questions Talmudic chronology. The resulting herem (ban), stated that “no person of any congregation . . . may have this composition in their possession, either in whole or in part, or study it, unless each individual shall have first obtained permission in writing from the sages of their city.”[11]

Abraham Menahem, despite not having actually seen the Me’or Einayim, not only presented the herem to his congregation but, in a sermon, admonished them to not be led astray by a heretical book that, in contrast to its name, Me’or Einayim, actually “darkens the sight and undermines the foundations of Judaism.” Furthermore, in a letter to R. Menahem de Fano, Abraham Menahem indicates that although he has not yet seen Me’or Einayim he is aware from personal conversations with de Rossi that de Rossi “rejects the Jewish mode of reckoning time.”[12] Subsequently, however, after R. David Provencal and R. Judah Moscato, both rabbis in Mantua, permitted Me’or Einayim to be read, Abraham Menahem retracted his position.[13] Abraham Menahem also signed takkanot (prohibitions) forbidding gambling (1573) and infringing on moneylending franchises held by fellow Jews.[14]

As noted above, the earliest published work, attributed to Abraham Menahem in bibliographies and Encyclopedias, with the exception of Eisenstadt, who attributes it to another Menahem, is Zafenat Pane’ah on cryptography, with a cipher-code of his own invention. Steischneider described Zafenat Pane’ah as “Revelator arcanorum De Cryptographia {w³1433. Rof. Diz., lib. Stmp. P60. 8. en. 1556. 4289:3.[15]

Abraham Menahem spent two years preparing Zafenat Pane’ah. In the absence of the place of publication, locations such as Venice (Steinschneider), Ferrara (BenJacob), and Sabbioneta (Sonne) have been suggested. Avraham Yaari, following Sonne, records Zafenat Pane’ah as a Sabbioneta imprint, including it among the books published by the Foa press in that location.[16] The National Library of Israel records Zafenat Pane’ah, giving the location as Sabbioneta but also notes Riva as a possible place of publication.[17] Zafenat Pane’ah was reprinted twice, in Venice [1620] and in Prague, no date.[18]

The title-page, perchance intentionally cryptic, does not identify the publisher, place of printing, or author, although the latter is evident from the text. Zafenat Pane’ah was published as a small booklet, described as either a duodecimo (12⁰) or an octavo (8⁰🙂 consisting of [6ff]. The title, Zafenat Pane’ah, is from, “And Pharaoh called Joseph’s name Zafenat Pane’ah” (Genesis 41:45), which Rashi explains as, “he who reveals hidden things.” As stated on the title-page, the purpose of the book is to enable one may to write a letter to a friend so that all who see it will not understand it.

The text of the title-page, which as noted above, lacks the date and place of publication, as well as having no ornamentation, states,

“See, this is new!” (Ecclesiastes 1:10); “In a levelled way” (cf. Jeremiah 18:15); “that they should do according to every man’s pleasure” (Esther 1:8); to write letters to one’s companion as a sealed book that will not be intelligible to those who see it. Even if alien eyes peruse the writing, in this manner it will be a great marvel, that tens of thousands of men all together should write in this way, that one should not understand the thinking of his companion. Even if “all go to one place” (Ecclesiastes 3:20) and hew from one quarry, something impossible to be heard and from intelligence withheld. If not after searching this page, confirming its great benefit as “your eyes uphold righteousness” (cf. Psalms 17:2).

1555, Zafenat Pane’ah
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The title-page is followed by Abraham Menahem’s lengthy effusive dedication to his uncle, R. Jacob Mugil, in which he also discusses the need for and value of cryptography, concluding with the date Tuesday, 15 October, 1555, Venice, signed Menahem of Porto. Next is a brief introduction in which the rules of encryption are discussed. He writes that there should be a sign between the writer and the recipient, whether in Hebrew, Ashkenaz, or whichever language the writer chooses, and it does not matter if the signs are numerous or few in number. “‘One who does much sacrifice and one who does less, as long as’ (Berakhot 5a, 17b) he places one letter with another as I will explain.” After some brief instructions on spacing Abraham Menahem signs his name as Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen from Porto.

Abraham Menahem’s name follows given in a bold, brief statement referring to the coding of his name, and, also in bold letters, the verse “If you had not plowed with my heifer, you would not have found out my riddle,” (Judges 14:18 ) This is followed by an example, in which Porto’s name appears as Menahem bar Jacob ha-Kohen mi-Porto, followed by the verse. His name is then spelled out over the verse as an encryption example. The text follows, discussing the subject of cryptography.

1555, Zafenat Pane’ah
Courtesy of the Jewish Theological Seminary

Turning to the Minhah Belulah, the work for which Abraham Menahem is best known, that work, a commentary on the Torah, based on Midrashim, was published in Verona (1594) as a quarto (4⁰: [3], 208, [1] ff.).[19] His motivation in writing the Minhah Belulah was the lack of Talmudic tractates. This resulted from the dispute between the Bragadin and Giustiniani presses over their editions of the Mishnah Torah, as noted above, which culminated in the burning of the Talmud, this based on a papal bull, dated August 22, 1553, ordering the confiscation and burning of the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds and prohibiting their possession. Among the results was a decline in Talmudic and midrashic studies and a turn to kabbalistic works. The Minhah Belulah is an attempt to achieve something of a balance in such studies under prohibitive conditions.

1594, Minhah Belulah
Courtesy of The Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

The title, Minhah Belulah, is from the phrase minhah belulah (a meal offering mixed) במנחה בלולה, which appears in seven verses in the Torah, three in Leviticus, four in Numbers, albeit with different prefatory letters.[20] The title-pages states that it is,

Minhah Belulah

A commentary on the Hamishah Homshei Torah, prepared and written by the complete sage R. Abraham Menahem ben R. Jacob Kohen Rapa mi-Porto. The author explains there in detail many Midrashim and straight forward explanations augmenting them with interpretations of his own in a language that is clear and straightforward so that when one rests on the Sabbath, festivals, and appointed times from all his exertions he will peruse it and find in it great value “according to each man’s pleasure” (Esther 1:8) and according to his abilities.

Printed here in the capital city of Verona at the press of Messer Francesco dalle Donne

Beginning of the work was on Monday, the fifth day of the month of Iyar in the year “Rejoice שמחו (354=1594, April 15, 1594) with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all you who love her [all you who mourn for her].” (Isaiah 66:10). May the Lord in His mercy grant us the merit to publish many books, and save us from errors and show us wonders, great and numerous “to the lawgivers of Israel” (Judges 5:9) “and a redeemer will come to Israel” (Isaiah 59:20) and so may He do. Amen.

In the domain of the rulers of Venice, may their majesty be exalted higher and higher. Amen

In the year of our lord the Duke Pasquale Cigona, may he be exalted, higher and higher Amen.

As noted above, Abraham Menahem varies the manner in which he gives his name. This is most evident in the Minhah Belulah, for as Hida observes, Abraham Menahem gives his name on the title-page of the Minhah Belulah as Rapa mi-Porto and at the end as bar Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto. Afterwards, Abraham Menahem writes it as R. Abraham ha-Kohen mi-Porto. Hida then comments that a source for these variaitions stems from one place, for he saw the Maharikh (R. Isaac Ha-Kohen Rapoport), author of Batei Kehunah (I, Izmir, 1741, II, Salonica 1744) that for Ashkenaz he signed his name as Isaac ha-Kohen Rapa Port from the seed of the priesthood in Lublin. Hida adds that he saw his father’s name who signed as Judah ha-Kohen Ashkenazi.[21]

The title-page informs that the publisher of the Minhah Belulah was Francesco Dalle Donne, an Italian printer whose primary business was Italian not Hebrew books. Active from 1592 into the seventeenth century, Dalle Donne was the first printer to publish books with Hebrew type in Verona, publishing the latter for about three years only, and then issuing less than ten titles, the majority in Yiddish, two only in Hebrew, the Minhah Belulah and the Midrash Tanhuma. Jews were prohibited from owning print-shops during the Counter-Reformation, from the mid-sixteenth century, so the presses publishing Hebrew books in Italy in this period belonged to non-Jews. The involvement of Christian printers, in this case Dalle Donne, with the Hebrew book market was not uncommon.[22]

Christian printers published Hebrew books in association with Jewish partners. The relationship between Christian printers and their Jewish partners was mutually beneficial. For the Christian publisher “the Hebrew books sector, being unique, was attractive to investors, being more limited and not so wildly competitive as the Italian book sector.”[23] In addition to the non-Jew’s access to the Jewish book market, the Jewish associate was not only able to publish Hebrew books, but he also gained access to the typographical material of his Christian partner. The latter, for example, frequently provided attractive frames to the former after having used them for his market and the Jewish partner also utilized the printer’s pressmark and other ornamentation. This was of value to the Jewish partner as he did not have to go the expense of having decorative material prepared, at a relatively much greater expense as it would be utilized for a much smaller market. This despite the fact that the frames were often incompatible with traditional Jewish sensibilities.[24]

The Dalle Donne press employed Abraham Bath-Sheba to print the Minhah Belulah. Abraham Bath-Sheba was the son of Sabbatai Mattathias Bath-Sheba (Basevi in Italian), an Italian-Jewish family of German (Ashkenazic) origin. Originally from Italy, Sabbatai Mattathias Bath-Sheba and his family relocated to Salonika where they operated a press, active from 1592 to 1605.[25] Interested in printing tractates from the Talmud the press sent Abraham Bath-Sheba to Italy to secure financing for the project. While in Italy he worked briefly for the Dalle Donne press in Verona, soon afterwards returning to Salonica.[26]

The title-page is followed by Abraham Menahem’s introduction, somewhat unusual, as stated in its header “ALEF BET ‘O you who linger in the garden, listening’ (song of Songs 8:13) ‘at the gate of the many-peopled city’” (cf. Song 7:5) You will come, brought into the Temple of your glory, blessings without account.” The header ALEF BET does not refer to the first letters of the Hebrew alphabet. alef bet, but rather to the fact that the introduction is comprised of one thousand (alef) instances of the letter bet, as can be seen from the first two lines of the introduction, below, emphasis added.

בחלון בתי בעד אשנבי אביוני בבנים הקרבים בקרב ובאים בגבורות חובורות
להציב הדרכים לבנות חורבות ולשובב נתיבות קצובות חצובות מחוטבות

“I have looked out of the window of my house though the lattice” (Proverbs 7:6) and the needy of your sons engaged in battle, and coming with mighty bruises,
To establish the ways, rebuild the ruins, and establish paths, . .

The introduction concludes with a page a verse, followed by the text. The enlarged initial words of each of the five books of the Hamishah Homshei Torah (Pentateuch) are set within a like ornate attractive outer frame comprised of an urban scene at the top with a male and female head at either side, below at the sides are bare female figures, and at the bottom two supine figures. The varying initial words are set with different backgrounds and side images (below).

Vayikra (Leviticus)

Devarim (Deuteronomy)

Two examples of the style of Abraham Menahem’s commentary follows.

“[Then the Lord God fashioned the side that He had taken from the man into a woman] and He brought her to the man” (Genesis 2:22). Suddenly, and while distracted, so that he would be most delighted with her, for most joy is felt when sudden, and so sorrow, as it says “Hezekiah rejoiced with them, etc.” (Isaiah 39:2) for the matter was sudden, and so, according to our sages “three things come when they are not expected, [Messiah], a find, [and a scorpion], etc. (Sanhedrin 97a) and a woman is called a find, as it is written “One who has found a wife has found good.” (Proverbs 18:22).

“[And you – lift up your staff and stretch out your arm over the sea ] and split it” (Exodus 14:16) and with the merit that “he split the wood for the offering” (Genesis 22:3) and thus he modified the language “[and the Children of Israel shall come] into the midst of the sea on dry land” in the midst of the place that was sea, and made dry land: “Lift up your staff and stretch out your arm” so that the Egyptians said that Moses did all of this with his staff, therefore [the Holy One, Blessed be He] said lift up your staff, as with “Remove yourself from among the assembly” (Numbers 17:10) and do the miracle with your hand.

Another different type of elucidation of a biblical passage, this on the verse “He said, ‘No longer will it be said that your name is Jacob but Israel . . .” (Genesis 32:29) is given by Abraham Menahem,

Israel ישראל A name that includes all the Patriarchs and Matriarchs י Yitzhak (Isaac) ש Sarah ר Rivkah ר Rachel א Abraham ל Leah. Even though we find that afterwards he is called by the name Jacob, perhaps it was not changed so that they would not say because he was a trickster it was changed (referring to the purchase of the birthright from Esau) and also because the Holy One, blessed be He gave him that name as I explained by “ and He called his name Jacob” (Genesis 25:26).

There is also some commentary reflecting current conditions, as noted above in the lead paragraph. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport, 1520- c. 1594) had been an eyewitness to the burning of the Talmud in Venice in 1553, which tragic event is reported in the Minhah Belulah, on the phrase “. . . a fiery law unto them,” (Deuteronomy 33:2), That paragraph, in further detail, says”

And He said: He gave the reason why Israel was more appropriate for the blessing than the other nations, idol worshippers . . . From His right hand [He presented] the fiery Torah [to them]. “The Torah is compared to fire, when a man comes too close, he is burned, when too distant he is cold, so too the Torah . . . and this also alludes to the great destruction our eyes have witnessed, due to our many iniquities, throughout Italy. The burning of the Oral Law [Talmud] in the year שיד[as in] “the hand יד of the Lord was upon us.” The decree went out from the city of Rome to use [the Talmud volumes] as fuel for the fire. In Venice, woe to the eyes that saw this, on the thirteenth and fourteenth of Marheshvan [5]514 (October 31, November 1, 1553), a continuous fire which was not extinguished. I fixed these days for myself, for each and every year, for fasting, weeping, and mourning, for this day was as bitter for me as the burning of the House of our God (the Temple).

The text concludes on 206b, followed on 207ab by an afterward by Abraham Menahem in which, as noted above, he informs that he has only written this for his generation which lacks Talmudic tractates, they having been taken away, their place replaced by kabbalistic studies; this work has been written not for sages but for those who want the revealed Torah rather than hidden (kabbalistic) meanings, “to quench the thirst of those who want straight forward meanings or midrash,” as noted in the alef bet introduction.

Below the afterward is Abraham Menahem’s escutcheon, consisting of two scantily clad women at the sides holding a streamer that says “Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen.” Between the women is a shield and within it two spread hands giving the priestly benediction, below that a black raven on a branch, and at the bottom another streamer that says “Rapa me-Porto.”[27] In the reprint of the Minhah Belulah (B’nei Brak,1989) the women are more modestly covered.

Yet another modest version of Abraham Menahem’s escutcheon was published in yet another recent work, this Benjamin Shlomo Hamburger’s three volume history, Ha-Yeshiva ha-Rama bi-Fiorda (Bnei Brak, 2010). It is described by Michael K. Silber in an article entitled “Modesty and Piety: Improving on the Past” as having “been modestly transgendered and piously rendered with beards!”[28] Below is original example escutcheon and the two more modest figures.

1594, Minhah Belulah, Verona

1989, Minhah Belulah, B’nei Brak

2010, Minhah Belulah, B’nei Brak

Under the original, that is the first printing of the escutcheon is a statement informing that the work was written [completed] in Cremona on Wednesday, 24 Shevat, [5]342 (January 27, 1582), when Abraham Menahem was, rabbi in Cremona. On the following page is the apologia of the proofreader (editor), Abraham ben Jehiel Kohen Porto.

It begins with a header, initially misspelled, being given asהמגיעה rather than the correct המגיה, resulting in a stop-press correction.[29] The proofreader (editor) Abraham ben Jehiel, a kinsman, addressees the issue of typographical errors in the Minhah Belulah in his remarks, apologizing for any errors in the book, for “Who can discern mistakes” (Psalms 19:13). He informs that not only was he careful but that Abraham Bath-Sheba was diligent in the supervising the compositors reviewing the type setting, “letter by letter.” Nevertheless, the work was done by uncircumcised workers (non-Jews), inexperienced in setting Hebrew letters, and it was not possible to avoid errors. Neither they nor the author, therefore, should be held responsible for any errors, but requests they be judged favorably.[30]

We conclude our discussion of the Minhah Belulah, appropriately, by noting that, in addition to the ornamentation already mentioned there are also tail-pieces at the end of several parts of the books. Most are simply decorative use of florets or of an arch. In two instances, however, the tail-piece is of a figure on both sides of a vase. This too is not an image consistent with traditional Jewish sensibilities, reflecting the use of ornamentation by Jewish printers of their non-Jewish partners’ typographical material.

The Minhah Belulah is concisely noted in Shabetai Bass’s Sifte Yeshenim (Amsterdam. 1680) the first bibliography of Hebrew books by a Jewish author.[31] It has subsequently been regularly recorded in Hebrew bibliographies. The Minhah Belulah was first reprinted in a Pentateuch (Hamburg, 1795), reprinted in Warsaw (1853), and perhaps elsewhere. The only standalone edition of the Minhah Belulah was printed in Bnei Brak by R. Jacob David Kohen (1989).[32]

R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) is, as stated at the beginning of this article “an intriguing eclectic figure. . . . primarily remembered today for his Minhah Belulah, a commentary on the Torah.” That work, although not frequently reprinted, is highly regarded by all who are familiar with it. Abraham Menahem’s accomplishments, however, are more varied, making him an unusual and interesting personality. Clearly a person of great erudition, not only for his mastery of rabbinic sources, such as the Talmud and Midrashim, but also for his extensive knowledge, encompassing medicine and, this most unusual, cryptography.

In addition, to the works just noted, Abraham Menahem also wrote responsa and, perhaps in the context of his contemporary activities, he was an important rabbinic figure, leading congregations in Cremona and Verona and head of a yeshivah. Nevertheless, R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) is best remembered today for his Minhah Belulah, which, as this article has attempted to show, is a valuable and important contribution to rabbinic exegetical literature.

An Unpublished 1966 Memorandum
from Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan Answers Questions on Jewish Theology

Marc B. Shapiro and Menachem Butler

Professor Marc B. Shapiro holds the Harry and Jeanette Weinberg Chair in Judaic Studies at the University of Scranton, and is the author of many books on Jewish history and theology. He is a frequent contributor at the Seforim blog.

Mr. Menachem Butler is Program Fellow for Jewish Legal Studies at The Julis-Rabinowitz Program on Jewish and Israeli Law at Harvard Law School. He is an Editor at Tablet Magazine and a Co-Editor at the Seforim Blog.

Over the last ten years Professor Alan Brill has written a series of blogposts, as well as a recent scholarly article on the perennially interesting, yet historically mysterious, rabbinic theologian, Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan (1934-1983).[1] It was from these posts that many have learned about what Kaplan was doing before he burst onto the wider Jewish literary scene in the early 1970s through his writings and public lectures. He passed away in 1983 at the age of 48.[2]

Rabbi Aryeh (Leonard M.) Kaplan was born in the Bronx in 1934, and studied at Mesivta Torah Vodaath in New York, and at the Mirrer Yeshiva in New York and in Jerusalem. In 1953, 20-year-old Aryeh Kaplan joined the group of students assembled by Rabbi Simcha Wasserman under the guidance of Rabbi Shmuel Kamenetsky to establish a yeshiva in Los Angeles,[3] and three years later in 1956 received his rabbinic ordination (Yoreh Yoreh, Yadin Yadin) from Rabbi Eliezer Yehuda Finkel of the Mirrer Yeshiva of Jerusalem, and from the Chief Rabbinate of the State of Israel. After receiving his ordination, Aryeh Kaplan began his undergraduate studies and, in 1961, earned a B.A. in physics from the University of Louisville, and two years later, an M.S. degree in Physics from the University of Maryland, in 1963. While studying towards his undergraduate degree, Aryeh Kaplan taught elementary school at the pluralistic Eliahu Academy in Louisville, and corresponded with Rabbi Moshe Feinstein about some of the challenges that he encountered.[4] He then worked for four years as a Nuclear Physicist at the National Bureau of Statistics in Washington DC.

In February 1965, Rabbi Kaplan and his wife and their two small children moved to Mason City, Iowa, where he was invited to serve as a pulpit rabbi at Adas Israel Synagogue, a non-Orthodox congregation with forty member families. It would be his first pulpit. He remained at that pulpit until July 1966. During his time in Mason City, Rabbi Kaplan and his wife were very active in all aspects of their synagogue activities. Rabbi Kaplan led services and delivered a sermon each week at the Friday Night Service at Adas Israel Synagogue, hosted a Talmud Torah and taught about Jewish tradition to the youth in the community. He was a member of the National Conference on Christians and Jews, and regularly hosted visiting religious groups to the synagogue and participated in interfaith meetings and on panels alongside religious leaders of other faiths. In all of his delivered remarks, Rabbi Kaplan would type out each sermon prior to its delivery and maintain copies of these addresses within his personal archives; to date, these sermons have not yet been published.

It was during Rabbi Kaplan’s time in Mason City that he authored a fascinating eleven-page-typescript memorandum, dated February 22, 1966, that, thanks to the research discovery of Menachem Butler, we are privileged to share with the readers of The Seforim Blog in the Appendix to this essay.[5]

Kaplan was responding to questions sent out by the B’nai B’rith Adult Jewish Education bureau in Washington DC on matters of basic Jewish theology.[6] We see from the letter that like many other rabbis who were serving in frontier communities, Kaplan maintained a camaraderie with those among the non-Jewish clergy. He was even a member of the “Ministerial Association,” and together with his wife was “founder and chairman of the local chapter of Ministerial Wives.” As one who often hosted non-Jewish groups at the synagogue, Kaplan was well equipped to place Jewish concepts and practices within a context that would make sense for Christians, and this is clearly seen in how he formulates his answers in the letter.

Although Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s memorandum is self-explanatory, there are a few points of theological interest that are worth calling attention to:

1. Right at the beginning, Kaplan notes that Jews have no official dogmas, and that in many cases Jewish opinions vary widely.

2. Kaplan states unequivocally that Maimonides does not believe in a literal resurrection. In support of this statement he cites Guide 2:27. If all we had were the Commentary on the Mishnah and the Guide, it would make sense to assume that when Maimonides refers to the Resurrection of the Dead that he intends immortality, not literal resurrection. Even the Mishneh Torah can be read this way, and Rabad, in his note on Hilkhot Teshuvah 8:2, criticizes Maimonides in this regard: “The words of this man appear to me to be similar to one who says that there is no resurrection for bodies, but only for souls.” Furthermore, in Hilkhot Teshuvah 3:6, in speaking of the heretics who have no share in the World to Come, Maimonides writes: והכופרים בתחית המתים וביאת הגואל, “Those who deny the Resurrection and the coming of the [messianic] redeemer.” Throughout his works Maimonides is clear that the ultimate reward is the spiritual World to Come. So how could he not mention among the heretics those who deny the World to Come, and only mention those who deny the Resurrection? It appeared obvious to many that when Maimonides wrote “resurrection of the dead” what he really meant is the spiritual “World to Come.”

As noted, if the works mentioned in the previous paragraph were all we had, then one would have good reason to conclude that for Maimonides resurrection of the dead means nothing other than the World to Come. Yet it is precisely because people came to this interpretation that Maimonides wrote his famous Letter on Resurrection in which he states emphatically that he indeed believes in a literal resurrection of the dead, after which the dead will die again and enjoy the spiritual World to Come. It is true that some have not been convinced by the Letter on Resurrection and see it as an work letter that does not give us Maimonides’ true view, but such an approach means that one is accepting a significant level of esotericism in interpreting Maimonides, as we are not now concerned with a passage here or there but with an entire letter that one must assume was only written for the masses. Since Kaplan ignores what Maimonides says in his Letter on Resurrection, I think we must conclude that, at least when he wrote this letter, he did not regard it as reflecting Maimonides’ authentic view.[7] In Kaplan’s later works, there is no hint of such an approach to Maimonides.[8]

3. In discussing Jesus, Kaplan writes: “In this light, we can even regard the miracles ascribed to Jesus to be true, without undermining our own faith, since his message was not to the Jews at all.”[9]

APPENDIX:

Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan: Response to “Questions Christians Ask Jews” (1966)

[INSERT IMAGES 1-13]

Notes:

[1] See Alan Brill, “Aryeh Kaplan’s Quest for the Lost Jewish Traditions of Science, Psychology and Prophecy,” in Brian Ogren, ed., Kabbalah in America: Ancient Lore in the New World (Leiden: Brill, 2020), 211-232, available here. See also Tzvi Langermann, “‘Sefer Yesira,’ the Story of a Text in Search of Commentary,” Tablet Magazine (18 October 2017), available here.

[2] A complete biographical portrait of Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan remains a scholarly desideratum.

For appreciations of his writings, see “Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan: A Tribute,” in The Aryeh Kaplan Reader: The Gift He Left Behind (Brooklyn: Mesorah Publications, 1983), 13-17; Pinchas Stolper, “Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan z”l: An Appreciation,” Ten Da’at, vol. 1, no. 2 (Spring 1987): 8-9; Baruch Rabinowitz, “Annotated Bibliography of the Writings of Aryeh Kaplan, Part 1,” Ten Da’at, vol. 1, no. 2 (Spring 1987): 9-10; Baruch Rabinowitz, “Annotated Bibliography of the Writings of Aryeh Kaplan, Part 2,” Ten Da’at, vol. 2, no. 1 (Fall 1987): 21-22; and Pinchas Stolper, “Preface,” in Aryeh Kaplan, Immortality, Resurrection, and the Age of the Universe: A Kabbalistic View (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav Publishing House, 1993), ix-xi, among other writings.

[3] See Nosson Scherman, “Rabbi Mendel Weinbach zt”l and The Malbim,” in A Memorial Tribute to Rabbi Mendel Weinbach, zt”l (Jerusalem: Ohr Sameyach, 2014), 13-14, available here; as well as Nissan Wolpin, “The Yeshiva Comes to Melrose,” The Jewish Horizon (March 1954): 16-17.

[4] See responsum by Rabbi Moshe Feinstein as published in Shu”t Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim, vol. 1 (New York: Noble Book Press, 1959), 159 (no. 98), dated 13 July 1955.

Discovery of additional correspondences between Rabbi Moshe Feinstein and Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan during those years would be of great scholarly interest and of immense historical value.

[5] Menachem Butler is also preparing for publication the typescript text of a sermon (“If This Springs From G*D…”) that Rabbi Kaplan delivered the previous month in January 1966, and where he reveals details about a conversation that he had with Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, director of the Los Alamos Project and father of the Atom Bomb.

[6] Menachem Butler writes two interesting details that, though beyond the narrow scope of this essay, are nonetheless of historical worthiness to consider when reading this memorandum:

Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s memorandum of February 1966 was written several months *prior* to the famous symposium of “The State of Jewish Belief:” hosted by Commentary in August 1966, and republished shortly-thereafter under the different title The Condition of Jewish Belief: A Symposium Compiled by the Editors of Commentary Magazine (New York: Macmillan, 1966), and reprinted more than two decades later in The Condition of Jewish Belief (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, Inc., 1988). One wonders how Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan might have responded to the five questions sent by Commentary to 38 rabbis and scholars from around North America.

Returning to questions submitted by B’nai B’rith, it should be noted that the 21 questions were composed by Rabbi Morris Adler on behalf of the B’nai B’rith Adult Jewish Education bureau, a commission that he chaired from 1963-1966, and that he was murdered several weeks after the memorandum was submitted by Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan. It is for this reason that I believe that these responses had not been published.

The circumstances of Rabbi Adler’s assassination are that a gunman shot him multiple times during Shabbat morning services in front of hundreds of his congregants at his synagogue in Michigan. Rabbi Adler passed away from his wounds sustained in the attack nearly a month later. For a brief bibliographical portrait, see Pamela S. Nadell, Conservative Judaism in America: A Biographical Dictionary and Sourcebook (New York: Greenwood Press, 1988), 31-32; and for a full book-length account of the episode, see T.V. LoCicero, Murder in the Synagogue (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1970), as well as his followup volume in T.V. LoCicero, Squelched: The Suppression of Murder in the Synagogue (New York: TLC Media, 2012), available to be ordered here.

[7] For brief discussion, see Isaiah Sonne, “A Scrutiny of the Charges of Forgery against Maimonides’ ‘Letter on Resurrection’,” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research, vol. 21 (1952): 101-117; see also Jacob I. Dienstag, “Maimonides’ ‘Treatise on Resurrection’ – A Bibliography of Editions, Translations, and Studies, Revised Edition,” in Jacob I. Dienstag, ed., Eschatology in Maimonidean Thought: Messianism, Resurrection, and the World to Come (New York: Ktav, 1983), 226-241, available here.

[8] See Aryeh Kaplan, Maimonides’ Principles: Fundamentals of Jewish Faith (New York: National Conference of Synagogue Youth, 1984), Aryeh Kaplan, Immortality, Resurrection, and the Age of the Universe: A Kabbalistic View (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav Publishing House, 1993), among other publications.

[9] The notion that in the past non-Jews have performed miracles much like the Jewish prophets needs further analysis, which Marc B. Shapiro will attempt in his forthcoming book on Rav Kook. As well, in Toledot Yeshu Jesus is described as performing miracles, but this is explained by Jesus having made use of God’s holy name.

New Sefer Announcement

By: Eliezer Brodt

פירוש התורה לרבינו אברהם בן הרמב“ם, ספר בראשת, תרעח עמודים

פירוש התורה לרבינו אברהם בן הרמב“ם, ספר שמות, תתלב עמודים

מאמר על הדרשות ועל האגדות לרבינו אברהם בן הרמב“ם, מעיתיק השמועה, [בירורים בתולדות חכמי התלמוד] צז+צ עמודים

Recently the second volume of R. Avraham b. HaRambam’s perush on Chumash Shemot was released (832 pp.). This new edition was edited by Rabbi Moshe Maimon and was published in a beautiful edition by Machon Aleh Zayis.

Last Year Rabbi Maimon published the first volume (678 pp.) and the volume on R. Avraham’s Ma’amar Al Ha-Derashot.

What follows is a short description of the work. IY”H I hope to very shortly publish on the Seforim Blog an interview with the author where he describes more at length his work on R. Avraham b. HaRambam and his new edition of the Perush.

The Perush of R. Avraham b. HaRambam was first rescued from centuries of obscurity in 1958, when Dr. Ephraim Weisenberg of London translated into Hebrew the centuries-old manuscript owned by Oxford University, from its original Arabic. Weisenberg’s edition included the original Arabic along with a translation and commentary, accompanied with footnotes incorporating comments of other biblical commentators as well as works of the Rambam.

It has never been reprinted in full, and although the translated (but un-annotated) text has in fact been reprinted and marketed several times, these editions are also out of print and have long been unavailable to the public.

Among the highlights of this new edition of R. Maimon is that he has retranslated many hundreds of difficult words and passages from the original Arabic, utilizing advances made in the field by leading Judeo-Arabic experts.

In addition, since the initial publication of the commentary, amazing strides have been made in Genizah research which have transformed the field of Judeo-Arabic studies in general, and the Geonic-Andalusian tradition in particular. Many of the sources employed by R. Avraham in his writing of the commentary are now being made available in the form of critical editions of the works of R. Saadia and R. Shmuel b. Chofni Gaon. The result has been the identification of many obscure sources referenced by R. Avraham, as well as the clarification of untold number of passages in his commentary.

Both volumes are enhanced with essay length introductions (and copious and erudite footnotes) that trace the history of R. Avraham’s Perush, his commentarial style, and his particular contribution to the Maimonidean strain of the Andalusian tradition so prominently on display in his Perush. This new edition is a welcome addition to any serious student of Biblical commentary, and, together with the annotated edition of R. Avraham’s Ma’amar Al Ha-Derashot (Essay on Rabbinic Homilies) released by Rabbi Maimon last year, are a great contribution to Rabbinic studies in general and Maimonidean studies in particular.

Email me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com for parts of the introduction and some sample pages of this special new work.

Copies are available for purchase at Beigeleisen (Brooklyn), Judaica Plaza (Lakewood), and Tuvia’s (Monsey) as well as through many other fine retailers.

On can purchase it online through Mizrahi’s Bookstore at this link.

In Eretz Yisrael, if you’re interested in purchasing copies contact me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com

A Comment of Rashi Found Only in “Defusim Me’Ucharim”

On Shemot 31:15 

By Eli Genauer

Summary:

We find a lengthy comment attributed to Rashi which is only found in what is termed “Defusim Me’Ucharim”. The comment first appears in the Sefer Yosef Da’at (Prague 1609) who attributes it to a D’fus Yashan and a Klaf Yashan Noshan. I did not find it in any of the over 60 manuscripts I checked nor in any early printed edition.[1] It was incorporated into subsequent printed editions on a very uneven basis from the 1600’s to 1800’s but now seems to be part of the mainstream text of Rashi.

שמות ל“א

(טו) שֵׁ֣שֶׁת יָמִים֮ יֵעָשֶׂ֣ה מְלָאכָה֒ וּבַיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֗י שַׁבַּ֧ת שַׁבָּת֛וֹן קֹ֖דֶשׁ לַה’ כׇּל־הָעֹשֶׂ֧ה מְלָאכָ֛ה בְּי֥וֹם הַשַּׁבָּ֖ת מ֥וֹת יוּמָֽת׃

רש“י: From Al Hatorah based on Leipzig 1

שבת שבתון – היא מנוחת מרגוע ולא מנוחת עראי. קדש לה’ – שמירת קדושתה לשמי ובמצותיי.

Leipzig 1

Munich 5 has the same text

Rashi HaMevuar (Oz Vehadar 2017, also included in all Oz VeHadar editions) has an extra comment (starting from a second Dibur HaMatchil of שַׁבַּ֧ת שַׁבָּת֛וֹן ) in parentheses.[2] The footnotes do not explain what the source was.

Rashi HaMevuar then states in their section of Chilufai Girsaot that it is not in any early printed edition.[3]

Rashi Hashalem ( Mechon Ariel, Shemot Volume 4, 2005) says that it is included in some later editions (Defusim Me’Ucharim) but does not comment on it source or authenticity.[4]

Torah Shlaimah of Rav Menachem Kasher, Jerusalem 1959, uses similar language by saying that this additional comment of Rashi can be found in Defusim Achronim.

Avraham Berliner (Zechor L’Avraham Berlin 1867) attributes this comment only to Yosef Da’at and puts it below the line. In the 1905 Frankfurt am Main edition it is not included.

This is how it is presented in Yosef Da’at:

 

גירסת דפ״ס (דפוס ?) ישן

והוא סוף הדבור בספרים אחרים ואחר כך הדבור קדש לה׳ כו׳ כך מצאתי ברש״׳ קלף ישן נושן

There seems to be three sources, a D’fus Yashan, Sefarim Achairim, and a Klaf Yashan Noshan.

Although there is some speculation that the Rashi Yashan Noshan is the manuscript known as Hebrew Union College Library, Cincinnati, OH, USA Ms. JCF 1, it does not appear there.

https://web.nli.org.il/sites/NLI/English/digitallibrary/pages/viewer.aspx?&presentorid=MANUSCRIPTS&docid=PNX_MANUSCRIPTS990000621880205171-1#|FL150557494

Question: Is Yosef Da’at the first source for later editions which include this comment and if so, when was the comment added to printed editions?

Despite Yosef Da’at statement that this comment was found in a Dfus Noshan, I did not find any printed editions which include this comment until after the printing of Yosef Da’at.[5] One might have expected to see it in an edition of Chumash printed immediately following Yosef Da’at in 1609, and that would be in the Hanau edition of 1611-1614. That edition had the כללים לשימוש רש“י בתרגום which were first printed in Yosef Da’at and was identified as one of the more important ones in setting the text of Rashi in subsequent editions.[6] But the comment is not included there.

The first time I could find this extended comment in print was in an edition of Rashi printed in Amsterdam in 1669

אמשטרדם : דפוס דוד די קאשטרו תארטס

It includes the כללים לשימוש רש“י בתרגום which we find in Yosef Da’at indicating that the editor was most likely familiar with this edition.

Amsterdam 1669 Yosef Da’at

None of the early Meforshai Rashi, such as Mizrachi and Gur Aryeh, comment on this statement.[7] Additionally, although Yosef Da’at attributes the comment to Klaf Yoshan Noshan, I did not find it in any of the manuscripts I checked.[8]

Manuscripts aside from Leipzig 1, HUC JCF 1, Munich 5 (see above) and Berlin 121(see footnote vi) which don’t have it

Access to links for these manuscripts through Al HaTorah[9]:

https://alhatorah.org/Commentators:Online_Rashi_Manuscripts

12th Century (?): –

Oxford CCC 165 (Neubauer 2440)

13th Century:

Hamburg 13 (1265), Hamburg 32 (Steinschneider 37), Oxford-Bodley Opp. 34 (Neubauer 186)

London 26917 (Neubauer 168) (1272), Berlin 1221, Berlin Qu 514 (1289) , Florence Plut.III.03 (1291)

Vatican Urbinati 1 (1294), Paris 155, Parma 2708, Parma 2868, Parma 3081

13th-14th Century:

Parma 3204 (De Rossi 181), Weimar 651, Berlin 1222, Berlin 121, Paris 156, Paris 157

British Library Harley 1861 (Margoliouth 169), British Library Harley 5709 (Margoliouth 170)

British Library Harley 5708 (Margoliouth 171), Vienna Cod. Hebr. 220 (Schwarz 23)

14th Century:

Parma 3115 (1305), Parma 3256 (1312), Frankfurt 19 (1340), Paris 48, Paris 37, Vienna Cod. Hebr. 3 (Schwarz 24)

London 19665 (Margoliouth 174) London 26924 (Margoliouth 175), London 26878 (Margoliouth 177)

London 22122 (Margoliouth 178), Oxford-Bodley Mich. 384 (Neubauer 187) (1399)

14th-15th Century:

British Library Harley 5655 (Margoliouth 180), Paris 159, Breslau 11 (Saraval 5)

15th Century:

Oxford-Bodley Opp. 35 (Neubauer 188) (1408), Breslau 102 (Saraval 12) (1421)

Breslau 10 (Saraval 7) (1449), Frankfurt 152, Paris 158, London 19653 (Margoliouth 181)

Conclusion

Aside from the Klaf Yashan Noshan cited by Yosef Da’at, this extended comment most likely was in a small minority of manuscripts. The fact that it made it into mainstream study of Rashi seems tied to its inclusion in Yosef Da’at.