Torah Under Wraps

by Yoav Sorek

translated by Daniel Tabak

Their publications are not allowed to get out. Their roiling Internet forums are blocked by filters. The articles they publish omit the names of professors considered verboten. A cohort of Haredi scholars [1] challenge the academy and their natural surroundings, unafraid to deal with subjects deemed taboo in the yeshiva world. Few Religious Zionists have penetrated this alternative ivory tower, but one of them—Eitam Henkin, may his blood be avenged—succeeded in breaking down barriers.

*

“One needs to strengthen oneself with faith; one should not entertain philosophical questions nor even glance at the books of philosophers,” said Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav already at the end of the eighteenth century. This motto is particularly popular today, in the post-modern era of “religious strengthening,” in which religiosity is perceived as synonymous with simplicity and unsophistication. Yet that very approach also runs counter to the Jewish mind, which is by its nature anything but naive. The legacy of Jewish erudition constitutes part of the DNA not only of the academy, but of even the most Haredi sectors of the yeshiva world, and it finds expression in the spirited Jewish Studies scholarship flourishing under the radar in circles that are presumed to recoil from it.

Israelis distant from the world of Jewish Studies were offered a glimpse of it in the amusing film “Footnote,” but it portrayed only the nerve center of the field’s academic milieu, when in reality a great deal more is out there. In the reading rooms of the National Library, and in many houses in Bnei Brak and Jerusalem, many scholars sit and study the same topics as academics but without academic degree, without traveling to conferences, without aspirations toward an academic appointment. The history of medieval and modern rabbinic authorities, the stories of their compositions, the manuscripts and their provenances, variant customs, disputes both ancient and alive—all of these preoccupy a non-negligible group of yeshiva graduates, Haredi in dress and behavior, who publish articles in “non-academic” journals of Torah scholarship and produce corrected editions of sacred texts, some of which can even be considered quasi-critical editions.

They number Hasidim and Mitnaggedim, the truly God-fearing and those trapped in the Haredi lifestyle who cut corners, those lacking any academic title and others who have earned one—sharp and knowledgeable one and all, still faithful to, and actively participating in, the intra-Haredi discourse. Some of them evidence a dual non-conformism in their lives: on the one hand, they have opted to put distance between themselves and the safe space of the yeshiva, pasturing in the treacherous fields of scholarship; on the other hand, they are Haredim who hail from circles thoroughly suspicious of academia and would not dream of lending credence to its guiding assumptions. Nearly every remarkable personality in the field originates in the circles of Ashkenazi religious zealots, yet the scholarly discussion—which takes place not only on journal pages but in the lively Internet forums of Be-Hadrei Haredim and Otzar HaHochma—is not private, and sometimes a handful of others participate. Rabbi Yoel Catane of Yeshivat Sha‘alvim, editor of the journal HaMa’yan, is one of those others, as his home is in the Religious Zionist world, and his publication represents the enlightened German Zionist Orthodoxy of bygone years. The late Eitam Henkin also was one of them—a Torah scholar and brilliantly wide-ranging scholar who took prominent part in the back and forth of these torani scholars.

In National-Religious society, there are, to be sure, many others involved in Jewish Studies scholarship, but one would be hard-pressed to find the same kind of polemical verve that exists amongst Haredi scholars. According to K., a young Haredi scholar, the passion attests to the fact that the scholarly endeavor is for them an existential need:

“The Haredi does his research in order to mask his own crisis of faith in a world that forbids thinking. Those who try to identify the composer of a liturgical poem or the copyist of an unknown manuscript, and those who uncover a forgotten rabbinical position held by R. Joel Sirkes, and those who wade through tomes to reconstruct a partially extant word in an Akkadian inscription, are all really fleeing forbidden thoughts. They release the tension between the silent extinguishment of faith in the Haredi world and the soul aflame with newly forged ideas by running for the hills of manuscripts and book archives.”

K.’s criticism begins with the Procrustean bed of Haredi yeshiva education:

“The Haredi kollel fellow is force-fed a diet of Torah study characteristic of the Lithuanian yeshivas of the previous century. Should he not be of a mind to rebel completely, the only somewhat legitimate pursuit open to him is Jewish Studies. In that way he can edit the novellae of the Rosh to tractate Nazir without raising too many eyebrows. For that reason Haredi scholars, at least initially, are more involved in editing and less with research or writing articles. And if they are open to producing scholarship, the closer the subject matter is to our time, the better: better on the modern rabbinic authorities than the medieval ones, better on the medievals than the Ge’onim, and God forbid not on the Talmud—don’t even mention the Bible. Preference is given to writing biographical pieces and endless discussions of historical chronology, such as clarifying the years of rabbi X’s rabbinic post in town Y, rather than anything deep about his method of study.”

Not everyone agrees with K.’s psychological diagnosis. “Some have ventured into the academic world not out of frustration with the kollel world, but because they were introduced to scholarship in minute doses and became enchanted by it,” says R. Yosef Mordechai Dubovick, a Boyaner Hasid who recently completed his doctorate on Rabbenu Hananel. He says that this field presents something the young prodigy would find difficult to resist.

“We have been taught and trained to question, explore, plumb the depths and not be satisfied with a superficial reading or understanding. When the intellectual yeshiva student is exposed to new tools and unfamiliar hermeneutical lenses and modes of understanding, his natural curiosity—nurtured so well—gobbles them up.”

“It’s ‘spontaneous academia,’” says Rabbi J., who would prefer to avoid equating it with academia. “It develops independently, without institutional bodies to dictate rules and regulations. It is anarchic, autodidactic, and exhilarating. It is a breathtaking demonstration of unfettered intellectual ability.”

A Scholar is Born

Rabbi Dr. Zvi Leshem, Director of the Gershom Scholem Library at the National Library of Israel, has occasionally bumped into scholars from the very heart of the Haredi world. “They are not the typical kollel fellow because the scholarly approach is not that of yeshiva students,” he says. He continues:

“Look, when I began working here I met a senior rosh yeshiva from a respected hesder yeshiva, and I told him about those who come from the yeshiva world to do research here. He was at a loss. “What sort of thing do they research?” he asked me, and I responded in turn with the example of Hemdat Yamim.[2] “Why would they research Hemdat Yamim,” the Torah scholar asked me, “when they can buy it in any seforim store?” That is the mainstream approach. Those who embark on scholarship are atypical.”

They may be exceptional and individualist, but one unmistakable quality binds them all together: they are autodidacts. This is evident in how they handle material in a foreign language. Some of these scholars have never studied English or German systematically yet refer to non-Hebrew sources in their articles. Each apparently bridged the gap in his own way.

Anyone interested in this phenomenon is invited to open, for example, a volume of Yerushaseinu, an annual tome published by the Institute for German Jewish Heritage (Machon Moreshet Ashkenaz). Some of the articles published therein would be perfectly suitable for any standard academic journal; among the numerous footnotes adorning the pages one finds references to scholarly literature in Hebrew and other languages. Other publications include Yeshurun, Moriah (published by Machon Yerushalayim, which for decades already has been involved in the professional editing of medieval and modern rabbinic literature), the Chabad journal Heikhal Ha-Besht, and others. Torani scholars fondly remember the journal Tzfunot, which met its demise over a decade ago, and in the meantime they publish in Torah supplements to Haredi newspapers, primarily in Kulmos of the newspaper Mishpacha. Likewise, the new scholarly journal Chitzei Gibborim – Pleitas Soferim, published in Lakewood, NJ, is at the moment taking its first steps.

Prominent names in the field include Mordechai Honig, a Hasid from Monsey who is extremely knowledgeable in medieval rabbinic literature; Yaakov Yisrael Stahl, a scholar of Franco-German Jewry forced to lower his profile in connection with academia; Moshe Dovid Chechik, a historian who until recently co-edited Yerushaseinu and currently co-edits Chitzei Gibborim; Yehudah Zeivald, a Boyaner Hasid who is quite busy with philosophy and Hasidism; Yitzchak Rosenblum, who had to move from Kiryat Sefer to Bet Shemesh on account of the library he opened, and currently teaches at the Haredi yeshiva high school Nehora; Yaakov Laufer, a scholar who focuses on linguistics and on the conceptual mode of Torah study; Betzalel Deblitsky, a prodigious zealot from Bnei Brak who runs the forum associated with Otzar HaHochma (the monumental digitization project of the Jewish library); Nachum Grunwald of Lakewood, NJ, a Chabadnik who grew up a Satmar-Pupa Hasid and serves as editor of Heikhal Ha-Besht; Aharon Gabbai, a rising star from Bnei Brak who graduated from a Lithuanian yeshiva, of course; Yechiel Goldhaber, slightly older than the rest, a historian and bibliographer whose scholarship is famous, and for whom the National Library is a second home; and Avraham Shmuel Taflinsky, who has toiled for the past few years in uncovering the sources of the aforementioned Hemdat Yamim.

Once we are mentioning the denizens of the National Library, mention must be made of the all-important tool in their scholarly work—the Internet. The global web of knowledge enables Haredi men from conservative yeshivas, whose library holdings are what you would expect, to come in contact with Jewish Studies scholarship and its historical-critical mindset. Most Haredi scholars have a home Internet connection, but not all. Zvi Leshem relates that some come to the library not to peruse ancient manuscripts or converse with the university’s scholars who use it as their place of study, but simply to work at a place that provides Internet access.

“In the digital age, Jewish Studies scholarship has successfully managed to wiggle its way, however constrainedly, into Haredi and yeshiva circles via databases such as Otzar HaHochma,” Mordechai Honig relates. “Until recently, it was the books. The birth of a Haredi scholar was generally triggered by incidental exposure to academic scholarship that invitingly charmed him. For me, it was Ephraim Urbach’s The Tosaphists, which I purchased at age fifteen.”

No one can deny the love story between digital media and the world of Haredi scholarship, with the latter exercising its acumen also in its use of technology. Along those lines, a weekly Internet journal popped up several years ago which, in the course of a couple years, became an especially favored forum for the group of torani scholars. It bore the name Datshe (ДАЧА), a Russian word that made its way into yeshivish slang, which evokes a leisurely space in which people enjoy life, a kind of rare legitimation of self-indulgence and letting loose a bit. The journal, founded and edited by Yitzchak Baruch Rosenblum, was, according to its subtitle, “where sages of Israel come to relax.” The publication insisted upon respectable discussion and high-caliber argumentation, but one also could find among the directives to its readers and writers the following note of caution, which furnishes an additional explanation to the choice of digital format: “Please preserve the low profile of this publication. One can print it for ease of reading but should not show it to just anyone. Wisdom belongs to the discreet.”[3]

Instead of Polemic, Shock

Along with Internet databases and online journals, forums also have an important place in the discourse of these scholars. After many long years in which the forum Soferim u-Sefarim on the site Be-Hadrei Haredim served as the water cooler for torani scholars, the baton was passed to the forums of Otzar HaHochma. A lengthy, fascinating thread recently began there, for example, whose purpose is to generate a list of “dissenting opinions [made by lone rabbinic scholars],” that is, halakhic positions taken by well-known decisors over the generations when their colleagues were of a different mind. The thread reveals the foundational analytic-halakhic erudition of the discussants, expert not only in bibliography and history but also in a wide range of positions expressed by medieval and modern rabbinic authorities on scores of issues.

The administrator of the Otzar HaHochma forums is, as was said above, Betzalel Deblitsky (under the username “Ish Sefer”). What had been permissible on Be-Hadrei Haredim the fearless zealot Deblitsky bans, censoring discussions and silencing voices he deems unworthy of being heard. But even those who miss the great openness that marked the forum of yore understand that the change is permanent—discussions of relevance within the scholarly community take place principally on the new forum.

Zeal, parenthetically, is a relative matter: the strict filter Netiv, which runs according to the guidance of a confidential rabbinic board, blocks the Otzar HaHochma forum on account of its content being deemed subversive and problematic. To take but one example, the forum has an intense, politically-charged discussion surrounding one of the veteran decisors of the Edah Haredit in Jerusalem—R. Yitzhak Isaac Kahana. A broadside that circulated in Jerusalem against R. Kahana’s book Orhot Tohorah and his lenient rulings on questions regarding menstruation inflamed not only the physical Haredi street but the virtual one as well, engendering scathing posts on the forum in support of each side. A symptom of one of the forum’s pathologies is partially manifest in this case: the deletion of threads by the moderator, who perceived them as deviating from the Haredi party line. Over three pages of posts inexplicably disappeared from the site, only to return the next day, redacted.

Rabbi Eitam Henkin was among those disappointed by the limits set on the forum’s discourse as compared with past fora, but he nevertheless realized that this was the place to be. Under the username “Tokh Kedei Dibbur,” Henkin took part in discussions on the forum, and at the same time carried on extensive personal e-mail correspondence with scholars who were active on it. This became the gateway through which Israeli reality penetrated the Haredi ivory tower—users discovered that the man murdered together with his wife, in front of his children, in the middle of Sukkot, was none other than “their very own” Rabbi Eitam. The forum was filled with emotional threads of eulogy and anguish, memorial initiatives and activities to be done in his merit, and the revelation of the many connections that Henkin had weaved amongst his Internet friends.

It is difficult not to resort to superlatives when speaking about Eitam Henkin. Anyone who had followed his abundant Torah publications — which were marked by eloquent prose, intellectual honesty, and the self-confidence of someone on home turf — had trouble believing the subject of conversation was so young. Even the conversation about him on the forums sketches a fascinating profile. The user known as “Meholat Ha-Mahanayim” wrote:

“The distinguished victim, may God avenge his blood, was wondrously knowledgeable about the entire history of our people, and specifically the history of Lithuanian Torah scholars and their writings. I merited corresponding with him a bit here, and as much as he was honest, fair, and truth-seeking, he was also intensely and diligently exacting […] None of his responses contained any triviality; his prose was shot through with words of Torah and wisdom, brimming with old wine […] One could discern his constant drive for the truth from his responses. He was never too flustered for a retort, and he always based what he said on the most solid of foundations. Even when he argued for an alternative position, he was a fair and honest opponent, unafraid to admit he was wrong when necessary.”

None other than Deblitsky (“Ish Sofer”), who is so distant from Henkin’s worldview and rarely treats anything with a velvet glove, eulogized Henkin at length. The forum’s moderator wrote:

“His statements stood out in their richness, sharpness, and precision—they have no equal. The wide range of people who corresponded with him is astounding. Despite their working in various fields, his correspondents unanimously attested to the immense benefit they gained from him and to the rich sources with which he magnanimously and pleasantly inundated them. Many a time in answering some inconsequential question, he would—as soon as you could say Jack Robinson[4]— whip out one of his many lists, chock-full and cornucopian, while noting that he was collecting additional material on the matter and it would have to wait until a future opportunity […]

Many have mentioned honesty and artlessness among his noble qualities. I would like to emphasize one thing that no one like me realized until they fell prey to it: his sharp and resolute style tended to invite polemic, but anyone who responded harshly as a tit-for-tat comeback found himself embarrassed and pathetic upon discovering the affable and unpretentious man behind those words.”

Further on, Deblitsky touched on Henkin’s transcendence of the entire sectoral framework. According to him, Henkin noted in a personal communication “that his unique pedigree as a son and grandson of American rabbis who did not fit in with any of the specific groups of Torah-observant Jews enables him to view himself as free of the shackles of sometimes artificial classification and group affiliation. One could say that this feeling largely allowed him to cast a critical eye upon and evaluate phenomena from all sectors without bias.” Deblitsky claimed this to be evident in the independent stance Henkin took in a slew of polemics, in which his misgivings and speculations were spelled out numerous times in private messages, as he took pains to publish in the forum only those things that he could wholeheartedly stand behind.

“I, for one, find exaggeration on both sides,” wrote Henkin to Deblitsky regarding the polemic within the forum surrounding the figure of the late Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein. “Be it the disparaging vitriol about him […] or, on the other side, those feigning innocence, as if he was just another link in the chain of Torah sages throughout the ages, some of whom have always engaged to some degree in general culture.” Henkin conceded to Deblitsky that even within the National-Religious community opposition to Rabbi Lichtenstein had existed: “It was undoubtedly quite grating for a regular yeshiva student (excluding those from Har Etzion and to “the left”) to see citations from non-Jewish culture and the like in a Torah article. In this case (of criticism within the National-Religious community—Yoav Sorek), however, opposition to that approach was disjoined from ad hominem attacks.”

“We should be very sad that ‘sectoral’ boundaries make no exceptions for Torah giants,” wrote Henkin in another e-mail to Deblitsky.

“The definitive assignment of each person into specifically this community or that one is often artificial. It is absurd that the public considers many comedians, musicians, and low-brow entertainers (for purposes of this example) as “Haredi” because they attended heder and wear a hat in the synagogue, while thousands of families who give their all for Torah and are punctilious about every jot and tittle (not to mention that for them television, secular newspapers, and the like are not even up for discussion) are “not Haredi” because they wear a colored shirt and also rejoice on Yom Ha-‘Atzma’ut. Although people can only see externals, they can ascertain what they will have to account for in the Heavenly court, whether they will be asked about Torah study, honesty in business, and hoping for the redemption,[5] or whom they cast their vote for in national elections.”

Henkin wrote the following when describing Rabbi Dov Lior’s Torah greatness. “I can say unhesitatingly that we are talking about a serious heavyweight in Torah erudition and jurisprudence who has the entire Talmud and Shulhan Arukh in his head—incredible!” Still, he noted that the Haredim do not respect him simply because his stance on Zionist matters “meant he was to be associated with only one camp and perforce rendered off-limits for the other camp, even if for him the only thing in his world is Torah, pure and simple. (Elements of Western culture or academia, which are accepted in large segments of his camp, he derides at every turn.)”

In these citations of Henkin one can hear the Haredi lilt. As Deblitsky and others in the forum pointed out multiple times, Henkin had the ability to converse with various people in language they were comfortable with. In private communication with another user in the forum, Henkin disclosed that when he would write on Otzar HaHochma, he would adopt the appropriate style and cautiously promote topics close to his heart.

What motive could there be for entering this lion’s den? Henkin had faith that every place has its bright spots, and he was happy to become acquainted with people he would not have otherwise met. He described himself as “attempting to pursue peace, even in a place where they pursue the likes of me.” As he wrote another time under the username “Tekhelet Domah” in the somewhat-calmer forum of Be-Hadrei Haredim: “I try my utmost not to hate anyone and not to write off any community that believes itself to be doing God’s will, even those which, in accord with their own aforementioned belief, would write me off and disparage my Rebbe in an unacceptable way.”

Professor in All But Name

After Henkin’s murder, a debate arose between his acquaintances and family over the the respective value he assigned to the two antipodes of academic study and religious study. Not surprisingly, the tension between the two constantly taxes many torani scholars. In the Otzar HaHochma forum and others, it is not uncommon to find a venomous and disparaging treatment of classic academics, who are caricatured as wasting their time on the trivial or unnecessary because they do not know how to study Torah, plain and simple. In the acerbic language of one forum contributor: “they are incapable of studying a page of Talmud without Schottenstein and a dictionary.”

In this way, the methodology of the elderly professor David Halivni, for example, has been pilloried and subject to sharp ridicule, perhaps also on account of his past affiliation with the Conservative movement. Along the lines of the approach with which he is associated (which presumes that most Talmudic passages were edited by a generation of anonymous sages, termed stamma’im, during the Savoraic period), the user “Afarqasta De-‘Anya” writes that he read Halivni’s introductions to two tractates and concluded: “Halivni did not write them himself; rather, he composed specific passages in which even he did not fully understand what he was writing or what he intended. His editor and publisher added stammaitic passages, thereby integrating the scattered pieces into what appears to be a single, unified text.”

This derision may, of course, result from an inferiority complex afflicting those with no proper academic training, or from the ignorance of those whose intellectual horizons do not extend beyond the narrative in which they were raised. In any case, it is far from being the consensus of the community of torani scholars: some have integrated into academia in recent years, others recognize that the yeshiva world’s disdain toward Jewish Studies is outdated. As Dubovick notes, Jewish Studies of this past generation is not what it had been previously, when scholars had no connection to the traditional study hall, and their scholarship at times revealed their ignorance and at other times could not sort the wheat from the chaff. In this generation, the preeminent scholars in the field are also serious Torah scholars.

Yet, anyone who publishes in Haredi journals or seeks legitimacy from the Haredi street cannot write without inhibition. “They must be careful about how they write, whom they cite, and even what titles they bestow,” explains Zvi Leshem. “I recall someone here who wanted to cite Rabbi Saul Lieberman’s Tosefta Ki-Feshutah, but he could not figure out which was the worse option—writing Rabbi Lieberman or Professor Lieberman. In the end he simply omitted his name.”

Though many of them already bear the title Dr., generally the torani scholars are not in the academic race for positions and recognition, and that fact profoundly impacts their lives. “The disconnect from the academic world and all its rivalry makes it easy for a scholar to share his wisdom with his colleagues, without having to worry about material or future scholarship being stolen, as well as to partake of his colleagues’ wisdom,” says R. Yoel Catane. “At the same time, the pressure to publish quality articles in the academic world, and the need to subject one’s research to peer review, occasionally yields excellent results that cannot be achieved in torani scholarship.”

“The fact that we are not part of that competition,” explains G. to me, “grants us peace of mind, intellectual freedom, the freedom to choose our areas of research without the need for prerequisite courses that are not entirely necessary, and the freedom to develop our ideas as we see fit. I see Haredi scholars benefitting from the sort of freedom enjoyed by the first generation of scholars in the Wissenschaft des Judentums movement.”

Between Seclusion and Entrenchment

The heightened awareness of Jewish sages to the development of their tradition preceded by centuries the Wissenschaft des Judentums movement, which set the critical modern gaze upon the Jewish library. Across the generations there were Ge’onim, medievals, and moderns engaging in textual criticism, historicizing customs, unearthing deep-rooted errors, and looking askance at what the ignorant perceived as a “Judaism” that could not be questioned.

Even from the narrower, more modern perspective of relations between the academy and Haredim, the group that forms the subject of this article certainly cannot claim originality. The “Bibliography of the Hebrew Book,” a superb academic project that catalogs all titles printed in Hebrew and other Jewish languages through the ages, is currently led by Yitzchok Yudlov, an erudite Haredi with no academic schooling. Among the founders of the project Rabbi Shmuel Ashkenazy (Deutsch), raised in Batei Ungarin, stands out. Ashkenazi, one of the most famous Haredi scholars of the book, serves today as an honorary member of the Mekize Nirdamim Society, a venerable publisher identified with the Wissenschaft movement. Two Haredi scholars also stand out among the employees of the National Library: Yehoshua Mondshine, an independently-minded Habadnik known for his scholarship on Hasidism, who passed away this past Hanukkah[6] after a terrible illness; and Meir Wunder, may he live a long life, a bibliophile and historian who wrote, among other things, his monumental project Meorei Galitziya (Luminaries of Galicia). A similar undertaking for Hungarian sages was brought into being by the late Haredi scholar Yitzchak Yosef Cohen, who worked within the framework of Machon Yerushalayim, the most famous of the Haredi publishers with a scholarly inclination. Also worthy of note are Yitzchak Yeshaya Weiss and Moshe Alexander Zusha Kinstlicher, both prolific scholars in the field of rabbinic history, who edited the now-defunct Tzfunot.

What, then, distinguishes the members of this young group from all their predecessors? Perhaps it is the fact that the integration that had once seemed so organic has become more complicated as a result of two parallel processes: the seclusion of Haredi society, and the entrenchment of the academy’s formality. The world of the learned, from all walks of life, for whom knowledge and curiosity are essential, has been replaced by the reality of evaluative categories within the halls of the academy, and an inflexible, censorial “hashkafah” within the Haredi camp. Few are those who seek to restore the former glory of scholarship, back when its throne did not have to be an academic chair nor its crown a black hat.

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A DUAL DESTINY

The doctoral advisor of Eitam Henkin, may God avenge his blood, was convinced that his student had chosen academia over the halakhic discourse of the yeshiva. Others attest that Henkin viewed halakhic discourse, in fact, as paramount.

*

Although his world was built upon foundations quite different from those of his Haredi interlocutors, Eitam Henkin had no difficulty finding a shared language with torani scholars. An autodidact to the core, he also held fast to the truth, was intellectually curious, loved profound discussion, and was prepared to swim against the tide. And as can be expected from anyone who has an independent love for knowledge, it turns out that he also wrote for—or at least corrected and made changes to—the Hebrew Wikipedia. On his user page, under the username “Shim‘on Ha-Eitan” (which he used in other contexts, such as on the site Mida), he opted for a pithy self-description that speaks volumes: “a Jerusalemite with diasporic roots, whose world is Torah and whose occupation is writing and research.”

Henkin began his doctoral research under Prof. David Assaf of Tel-Aviv University. He dedicated it to the biography of R. Israel Meir Ha-Kohen of Radun, the Hafetz Hayyim (1839-1933), one of the mythic personalities who have exercised incredible influence on contemporary Orthodoxy. Assaf, who deeply admired Henkin, published a eulogy on his blog Oneg Shabbat that aroused immediate contention. He wrote:

“Eitam was a wunderkind. I first met him in 2007. At the time he was an avrekh meshi (by his own definition), a fine young yeshiva fellow, all of twenty-three years old. He was a student at Yeshivat Nir in Kiryat Arba, with a long list of publications in Torah journals already trailing him. He contacted me via e-mail, and after a few exchanges I invited him to meet. […] We spoke at length, and I have cared about him ever since. From his articles and our many conversations I discerned right away that he had that certain je ne sais quoi. He had those qualities, the personality, and the capability—elusive, unquantifiable, and indefinable—of someone meant to be a historian, and a good historian at that.

I did not have to press especially hard to convince him that his place—his destiny—did not lie between the walls of the yeshiva, and that he should not squander his talents on the niceties of halakha. He needed to enroll in university and train himself professionally for what truly interested him, for what he truly loved: critical historical scholarship. […]

Eitam, hailing from a world of traditional yeshiva study that is poles apart from the academic world, slid into his university studies effortlessly. He rapidly internalized academic discourse, with its patterns of thinking and writing, and began to taste the distinct savors of that world.”

In the continuation, Assaf heaps praise upon his young student. The sharp opposition that he posed between “the niceties of halakha” and critical scholarship, however, engendered grievances on the part of several Oneg Shabbat readers, particularly those familiar with Henkin’s other side. His brother Dr. Yagil Henkin criticized Assaf’s piece relatively delicately. “He believes Eitam saw himself primarily as a scholar, not a rabbi with plans to fill a rabbinic post,” he told Yosef Ehrenfeld in the newspaper Shevi‘i. “I have a different take on the matter […] His first and foremost desire was to be a Torah scholar, but he also wanted to be an academic scholar. In everything that interested him and everything he engaged in, he strove to do his best, to go the extra mile.”

Rabbi Dr. Michael Avraham protested Assaf’s denigration of Torah discourse, leading with the following cynical preface:

“I am unable to restrain myself from making the objective academic comparison (apparently the product of systematic methodology and critical-historical scholarship) between “squandering one’s time on the niceties of halakha” and “entering the precincts (heikhalot) of the academy.” I won’t lie: a quiver of holiness washed over me upon reading those words, but I nevertheless summon my courage and dare to murmur something in the heart of the sanctuary (heikhal). May its priests, Levites, and prophets forgive me after kissing their sacred, perfumed feet.”

Offended, Assaf responded with a stinging riposte of his own, explaining that he was not deriding the yeshiva’s methods of study; rather, he was convinced that Eitam, as a young man who had needed to choose his intellectual path, was inclined more towards academic methods of study and writing. This assertion would seem to fit the activity of Eitam’s final years, but it somewhat contradicts the testimony of Deblitsky, according to which Henkin viewed his thoroughly halakhic composition about Sabbath law—a book that has yet to be published[7]—as his most important work.

Translator’s Notes:

This article was first published in Hebrew in Mekor Rishon (30 October 2015), and is translated here with permission of Mekor Rishon and the author. The translator would like to thank Shaul Seidler-Feller for his invaluable assistance. A groysn shkoyekh!

[1] A preliminary terminological distinction in order to forestall confusion:

• A hoker is someone with the skills to conduct sustained research on a topic of interest and produce noteworthy scholarship. Such a person may have academic training and credentials, but the subjects of this article, for the most part, do not. I translate ‘hoker’ as ‘scholar.’

• A hoker torani is such a scholar who happens to be firmly ensconced in the world of Torah, and whose research interests center around topics related to that world. Owing to the lack of suitable English adjective, I will leave the adjective in the Hebrew, yielding “torani scholar.”

• A talmid hakham is someone with measurably significant Torah erudition, but that knowledge does not necessarily have any bearing on his ability to produce scholarship. I will retain the standard translation of ‘Torah scholar.’

[2] A compilation of customs, prayers, and kabbalistic practices printed about 300 years ago that has had tremendous influence ever since. It nevertheless generated controversy regarding its author’s identity and its content due to suspicions of Sabbateanism.

[3] Cf. Prov 11:2.

[4] The closest idiomatic equivalent of tokh kedei dibbur, Henkin’s username.

[5] cf. Shabbat 31a.

[6] Hanukkah 5775 (24 December 2014). A tribute has been published on these pages by Eli Rubin, “Toil of the Mind and Heart: A Meditation in Memory of Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine,” the Seforim blog (13 December 2015), available here (http://seforim.blogspot.com/2015/12/toil-of-mind-and-heart-meditation-in.html).

[7] The book, Zeh Sefer Esh Tamid, has since been published by Mossad HaRav Kook in April 2016.

Rabbi Chaim Volozhin’s Motivation to Write Nefesh HaChaim

(Including a response to R. Bezalel Naor’s Review of Nefesh HaTzimtzum)

Avinoam Fraenkel

Avinoam Fraenkel’s new 2 volume work, Nefesh HaTzimtzum (Urim Publications), is a full facing page translation and extensive commentary on Nefesh HaChaim together with all related writings by R. Chaim Volozhin. It also presents a groundbreaking study on the Kabbalistic concept of Tzimtzum which is demonstrated to be the key principle underpinning all of Nefesh HaChaim. The following essay captures some of the key insights in overview from Nefesh HaTzimtzum which should be referred to for in-depth details and sources.[1]

Life is complex and our most significant actions in life are often motivated by a wide spectrum of catalysts driven by both conscious and subconscious objectives. Therefore it is a considerable challenge when looking deeply into R. Chaim Volozhin’s magnum opus, Nefesh HaChaim, to try to ascertain what may have primarily driven him to compose it and what motivated him to provide an urgent deathbed instruction to his son in 1821, to publish it as soon as possible.[2]

Was it simply a structured presentation, recording the enormously important worldview of R. Chaim’s revered master, the Vilna Gaon? Was it a manifesto to set the tone for his newfound and soon to be world famous Volozhin Yeshiva? Was it a broadside shot at the entire Chassidic establishment to attempt to bring it into line? Was it a defense for the Mitnagdic camp, to shore up their opposition to the Chassidim by providing them with its own authoritative framework to dampen any attraction to the looming specter of what for many was the compelling allure of the competing Chassidic philosophy?

In all likelihood, all of these factors and many more, both communal and personal, may have motivated R. Chaim, at least to some degree. Nevertheless, on investigation, it appears that there was indeed a single primary motivating factor that can be isolated as significantly influencing the presentation of Nefesh HaChaim. However, in order to be able to relate to this factor, it is necessary to first dispel a smokescreen of deep rooted misconception which has persisted for the last 200 years about perceived fundamental differences of faith between the Chassidim and the Mitnagdim. Once dispelled, as explained below, it becomes clear that R. Chaim aimed his urgent message in Nefesh HaChaim at many on the periphery of the Chassidic movement, but not directly at the Chassidic establishment itself. He perceived those on the periphery to be at severe risk of compromising their faith due to their mistaken adoption of practices whose sole objective was to passionately increase their piety to get closer to God at all costs even if this would ironically result in Halachic compromise.

This smokescreen was a result of raging turmoil between the Chassidim and their opponents, the extent of which was so acute that it caused many to be utterly confused as to what the fight was actually about. It prepared the ground for it to be all too easy to believe and accept that the schism was about the fundamental principles of Judaism focusing, in particular, on the Kabbalistic concept of Tzimtzum and the degree to which God is directly manifest in this physical world – and therefore to have a different perception of the required balance between the desire to get closer to God and the necessary punctilious observance of the Halacha. So, even though many equivalences can be found between statements in Nefesh HaChaim, the contemporary Chassidic literature of its time in general and Sefer HaTanya in particular, the profound importance of the key message of Nefesh HaChaim to the wider Chassidic community was entirely misunderstood and therefore totally ignored, as Nefesh HaChaim was perceived to have been based on a fundamentally different philosophical outlook that diverged from what was mistakenly thought by many to be the exclusively Chassidic view on the extent of God’s immanence.

It should be noted that this is not just of historic interest in that it was only relevant in R. Chaim’s day. Even though the acuteness of the schism between the Chassidim and Mitnagdim has abated and both camps, although with some exceptions, are generally accepting of each other nowadays, nevertheless the prevalence of Halachic practice becoming the primary casualty of a desire to get closer to God is in many ways just as rife today as it ever was. This impacts all camps across the entire spectrum of Jewish religious affiliation. The less religiously affiliated who are susceptible to possibly view Halachic compromise as sometimes being acceptable if they see it as enabling more of their activities to otherwise be closer to God. The more religiously affiliated who frequently adopt pious self-imposed practices going beyond the letter of Halachic obligation, where out of what they call “Frumkeit,” are vulnerable to possibly look down on, speak about and act disdainfully with baseless hatred towards others who they may view as less pious, flagrantly and often publicly breaching the Halacha. This phenomenon is arguably manifest in its worst form in instances of acts of open aggression in the name of God against Jews by some extremist Jews who try to enforce what they perceive to be a high level of piety, where neither the aggression nor the supposed piety conform with anything even vaguely close to any accepted standard of Halachic practice. R. Chaim’s message is therefore just as urgently required and relevant today and the fact that Nefesh HaChaim has largely been ignored for the last 200 years has prevented its critical message from being properly communicated and absorbed.

It should also be highlighted that while the Chassidic community has ignored the message of Nefesh HaChaim due to their perception of the entire work as being philosophically disconnected from their own outlook, the Mitnagdim on the other hand have had a problem accepting the widespread study of Kabbalah. No-one in the Mitnagdic community has any authority or would dare to challenge the status of Nefesh HaChaim as a seminal work that must be studied. Nevertheless, many in the Mitnagdic community have been generally guilty of attempting to rebrand Nefesh HaChaim, trying to ignore that it is a Kabbalistic work, failing to appreciate, or even denying outright, that engagement in the Kabbalistic concepts it so intentionally presents for public consumption is an absolute pre-requisite to properly relate to its message. They surreptitiously treat it as an ethical work, a work of Mussar, by only focusing study on some selected non-Kabbalistic parts of the book and thereby entirely miss the point of the book.[3]]Therefore from either the Chassidic or Mitnagdic perspective, the key burning message of Nefesh HaChaim which so badly needs to be applied to Jewish life today, has sadly and irresponsibly been ignored!

The historic smokescreen of fundamental difference between the Chassidic and Mitnagdic camps has unfortunately been propagated by many of great stature in the Jewish world and also by many in the academic world. Simply put, the general mistaken presentation of difference around the Tzimtzum process which explains why we cannot see the infinite God in this finite physical world, is that the Chassidic view is that God is present everywhere and in everything physical but His presence is concealed, i.e., God is totally immanent. Whereas the Mitnagdic view is that God is removed and absent from the physical world and merely controls all from a distance through Divine Providence, i.e., God is totally transcendent.

This unfortunate presentation was perhaps most famously captured by a letter written in 1939 by R. Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the last Lubavitcher Rebbe, which delineates a 4 position approach to the concept of Tzimtzum and presents a picture of stark contrast between each of the views of the Vilna Gaon, the Baal HaTanya and R. Chaim.[4] In this letter R. Schneerson went so far as to state “… the author of Nefesh HaChaim … disagrees with his master, the Vilna Gaon [about the concept of Tzimtzum]. In general, it appears that R. Chaim Volozhin saw the works of Lubavitch – and Sefer HaTanya, in particular – and that he was influenced by them, however, I do not have definite proof of this.” In contrast to the positions of both the Vilna Gaon and R. Chaim, R. Schneerson then continued to explain the Chassidic view, that the Tzimtzum process was only initially applied to “the lowest level of the Light [of the Ein Sof].”

R. Schneerson’s statement here explicitly highlights a diverse difference in fundamental philosophical outlook between the Chassidic world and that of the Vilna Gaon and therefore the Mitnagdic world. His suggestion, without proof, that R. Chaim was swayed somewhat towards what he describes as the Chassidic view was based on the employment of many seemingly Chassidic statements in Nefesh HaChaim.

However, on in-depth study of the positions of the Vilna Gaon, R. Chaim and the Leshem[5] it becomes crystal clear that they are identical with the Baal HaTanya, and indeed with the Arizal and the Zohar, regarding the concept of Tzimtzum. In order to see this it is crucial not to initially look at the terminology they employ but to carefully assess the substance of each of their arguments. On face value, the Vilna Gaon and the Leshem seemed to openly express strong dissatisfaction with the Chassidic perspective and there is scope to question if the Baal HaTanya aimed scathing comments on this topic directly at the Vilna Gaon. Notwithstanding this, if we are particular to examine what they actually say about the substance of the topic, and not be deflected about what they may or may not have said about each other, then it will allow us to see that they in fact all agreed.

The critical factor to appreciate the substance of each of their arguments is to understand that they all saw the arena within which the Tzimtzum process occurs as only being in the Sefira of Malchut of any level, including that of the highest level called the “Ein Sof.”[6] Malchut is the lowest Sefira of any level and is in fact in a different dimension to it. This means that any change within Malchut of any level as a result of the Tzimtzum process, does not impact the level itself in any way. Therefore, the first instance of the Tzimtzum process which occurred in the Malchut of the first level which was emanated from God’s Essence, the Ein Sof, did not impact the Ein Sof in any way. Therefore, by extension, not only does the Tzimtzum process not change the Ein Sof, it also has no impact on God’s Essence in any way.

Once this is understood then it becomes clear that the debate over whether Tzimtzum means either immanence or transcendence is simply wrong. As the Tzimtzum removal only occurs within Malchut, transcendence only applies to Malchut. Therefore, everything above Malchut, i.e., both God’s Essence and also the Ein Sof, is entirely and absolutely immanent. In other words, the Tzimtzum process itself results in a dual simultaneous combination of both immanence and transcendence. The particular stance of immanence or transcendence then becomes a matter of perspective. In the language of the Nefesh HaChaim, immanence is “Mitzido”, the perspective of the higher level (and ultimately God’s perspective) and transcendence is “Mitzideinu”, the perspective of the lower level (and ultimately that of the physical creations).[7] All discussion about the differences between levels therefore becomes relative to the level the discussion is centered upon. This point is so important that it is the key to begin to understand any discussions of the Arizal.[8]

This, in a nutshell, is the concept of Tzimtzum that was held in common by the Vilna Gaon, R. Chaim, the Leshem, the Arizal and the Zohar. Any time any one of these sources refers to a “removal”, they are therefore referring to a removal within “Malchut” only of whatever level they happen to be discussing. It is far beyond the scope of this essay to provide sources to explain the concepts and demonstrate how they translate into day to day life and the reader is referred to Nefesh HaTzimtzum.[9]

However, just to whet the appetite and demonstrate that our focus must be on the substance of the argument and to not be deflected by terminology let’s look at two simple sources. The Baal HaTanya states “… the characteristic of His Malchut is the characteristic of Tzimtzum and concealment, that conceals the light of the Ein Sof.”[10] This, unsurprisingly, is consistent with R. Schneerson’s statement that the Tzimtzum process was only initially applied to “the lowest level of the Light [of the Ein Sof].” The Leshem, on the other hand, states the following “…and therefore that place within which the Tzimtzum process occurred is called Malchut of the Ein Sof … it is exclusively in Malchut of every revelation for every Tzimtzum is exclusively in Malchut ….”[11] Therefore, very surprisingly to many, the Leshem, the staunch Mitnaged and follower of the path of the Vilna Gaon, entirely agrees with the Baal HaTanya and with what R. Schneerson presents as the Chassidic view that the Tzimtzum process is only within Malchut!

With all of the above in mind, we are now in a position to step aside and briefly focus our attention on R. Bezalel Naor’s review of Nefesh HaTzimtzum (see here). In his eloquent review, he “cuts to the chase,” as he puts it, to describe his argument against the Tzimtzum thesis of Nefesh HaTzimtzum. Unfortunately, he “cuts” out more than he “chases” and it is astonishing that in his entire review, R. Naor doesn’t even vaguely mention or make any attempt to counter the key critical factor presented above that is emphasized numerous times in Nefesh Hatzimtzum, that all the players in the Tzimtzum discussion agree with each other that Tzimtzum happens exclusively in Malchut! It seems that R. Naor, in common with many of great stature before him, has unfortunately fallen into the classic historical trap which has plagued this topic for centuries of focusing on a presumed understanding of the terminology employed by the various proponents, especially in their expressions of disagreement with their colleagues. In doing so he has failed to investigate the actual substance of their Tzimtzum argumentation and is unaware that they actually agreed with each other! (This response continues in the note.[12])

Stepping back to the main thread of this essay, historically most were severely misled and confused by a smokescreen of difference which was contributed to by two key factors. Firstly, by terminology used by some key Kabbalists, the historic context of which was misunderstood.[13] Secondly, by a famous letter forged in the name of the Baal HaTanya which explained the Vilna Gaon’s position on Tzimtzum as arguing with the view of Chassidut.[14] However, not all were misled. Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler, among many other prominent individuals, understood that the argument between the Chassidim and the Mitnagdim was not about the fundamental principles of Judaism. He wrote on the topic of Tzimtzum in 1938 that “in this generation in which there is a need to unite…it is fitting to publicize the fact that there are no differences of opinion in the essence of these issues”.[15]

After fully absorbing the fact that the philosophical outlook in relation to the Tzimtzum concept of the Vilna Gaon, R. Chaim, the Baal HaTanya and the Chassidic world are identical, the genius of R. Chaim’s presentation in Nefesh HaChaim can then be clearly seen. The Chassidic works of his day, including Sefer HaTanya, barely quoted their sources. In contrast, when R. Chaim presents his ideas in general, and the concept of Tzimtzum in particular, ideas which at the time were seen by many to be uniquely Chassidic ideas, he frames them in the context of extensive quotations from and references to traditional Jewish sources. As mentioned above, he even uses many similar expressions and sentences to those appearing in the Chassidic works of his day. He is demonstrating that there is no scope for anyone to suggest that there is a fundamental difference between the formal outlook of the Chassidic Movement and that of mainstream Judaism and that the paths for serving God of both the Chassidim and the Mitnagdim are fundamentally the same and are derived from the same Torah and the same Mesorah. Therefore, against a historic backdrop of some who erroneously thought that the new Chassidic Movement had blazed a new trail in Judaism and were using the inspiring Chassidic presentation of these concepts to compromise Halacha, R. Chaim’s key message is, there is no basis for anyone to bend these concepts out of their true context of mainstream Judaism, and as a result, there is no basis to use them to license Halachic compromise in any way whatsoever.

It is fascinating to note that R. Chaim was not alone in this quest to highlight the potential pitfalls of Halachic compromise resulting from an attempt to get closer to God. He was joined by some of the establishment Chassidic figures who expressed themselves in a very similar way.[16] Furthermore it is inconceivable that the Baal HaTanya would have sanctioned any form of Halachic compromise, as he is after all the author of the widely respected and accepted Halachic work, the Shulchan Aruch HaRav.[17]

The underlying principle guiding R. Chaim’s presentation in Nefesh HaChaim reflects the position of his master, the Vilna Gaon, that as the Kabbalah is an intrinsic part of the Torah, it cannot be that anything derived from it can prescribe any action which contradicts and is inconsistent with the Torah.[18] Any directive derived from the Kabbalah which contravenes the Torah and Halachic practice must therefore be a misunderstanding of Kabbalah. In addition, this principle was explicitly highlighted by some of the Chassidic masters who were also clearly objecting to the same phenomenon of Halachic compromise on the periphery of the Chassidic world that R. Chaim was objecting to.[19]

The outcome of all the above is that because of R. Chaim’s historic motivation to write Nefesh HaChaim, he has left us with a remarkable work, a motivational framework of how a person is to view and philosophically interact with the world, which substantiates every statement it makes by referencing many traditional Jewish sources in general, and Kabbalistic sources in particular. As a result, the highly structured presentation of Nefesh HaChaim itself is a unique gateway into the highly unstructured world of Kabbalah. It is a tremendous portal through which a genuine introduction to the world of Kabbalah and to the deeper meaning of the Torah has been made accessible to one and all. May the study of Nefesh HaChaim and R. Chaim’s Torah bring a true conscious awareness of unity in the Jewish World.

[1] Nefesh HaTzimtzum includes the following:

• A historical and structural introductory overview.
• A corrected Hebrew text for Nefesh HaChaim, likely to be the most accurate ever published.
• An innovative hierarchical presentation of both the Hebrew and facing page English texts for ease of use.
• Extensive explanatory annotations on all texts.
• Expansion in English translation of virtually all sources quoted and referenced in Nefesh HaChaim, including all Kabbalistic sources.
• An explanation of the concept of Tzimtzum with:
  • Full details of the positions of the Zohar, the Arizal, Yosef ben Immanuel Irgess, R. Immanuel Chai Ricchi, the Vilna Gaon, the Baal HaTanya, R. Chaim Volozhin, the Leshem, R. Dessler and the Lubavitcher Rebbe, among others.
  • Extensive source material in both the original Hebrew and facing page translation.
  • A comparison between Nefesh HaChaim and Sefer HaTanya on their key approaches to Torah study, Mitzvah performance and prayer which are all based on their common understanding of the Tzimtzum concept.
  • A demonstration of how the correct understanding of the Tzimtzum concept underpins the concept of Partzuf and therefore all of the Arizal’s Kabbalistic teachings.
  • A presentation of the Vilna Gaon’s messianic outlook which is dependent on knowing Kabbalah and Science.
• An explanation of the concept of The World of the Malbush.
• Facing page translation of all of R. Chaim Volozhin’s published writings related to Nefesh HaChaim, including his single published sermon, letters and his introductions to commentaries of the Vilna Gaon on Shulchan Aruch, Zohar and Sifra DeTzniyuta (which includes the largest authentic published repository of stories of the Vilna Gaon by any of his students).
• Translated and cross-referenced extracts of all Nefesh HaChaim related sections from Ruach Chaim.
• Yosef Zundel of Salant’s brief extract on prayer with translation.
• Detailed outlines and extensive indexes by themes, people’s names and book references.

[2] As recorded by R. Chaim’s son, R. Yitzchak, in his introduction to Nefesh HaChaim. Nefesh HaChaim was subsequently published in 1824.

[3] Most of the Yeshivot which include the study of Nefesh HaChaim as part of their curriculum only study the last section, the Fourth Gateway. Most of the commentaries and translations that have been published to date omit comment on or even translation of the Kabbalistic material which forms a substantial part of the book.

[4] Iggrot Kodesh, published by Kehot, Volume 1, Letter 11.

[5] For a scholarly portrait of the Leshem which brings together much important biographical information, a succinct overview of the Leshem’s major works and many further sources, see Joey Rosenfeld, “A Tribute to Rav Shlomo Elyashiv, Author of Leshem Shevo v-Achloma: On his Ninetieth Yahrzeit,” the Seforim blog, 10 March 2015, available here.

[6] It is not in the scope of the discussion here to discuss what is meant by a Sefira or a level. In Kabbalistic terminology a level may be called a “World” or a “Partzuf”.  A “Sefira” is a subcomponent of the “World” or the “Partzuf”.

[7] “Mitzido”/”Mitzideinu” are also synonymous with the Zohar’s terminology “Yichuda Ilaah”/ “Yichuda Tataah,” e.g., as per end of Nefesh HaChaim 3:6 (Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 1, pp. 510-511).  Incidentally “Mitzido”/”Mitzideinu” are also synonymous with the terms of “Orot”/”Keilim”.
“Mitzideinu”, “Yichuda Tataah” and “Keilim” are all different expressions which mean “Malchut”.

[8] In particular, it is the dual simultaneous perspective which generates the concept of “Partzuf” which underpins all the discussions of the Arizal. See Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 145-150.

[9] In particular, to the first 2 sections of Volume 2.

[10] Sefer HaTanya 2:7:

… שמדת מלכותו היא מדת הצמצום וההסתר להסתיר אור אין סוף …

[11] Sefer Hakdamot UShearim, Shaar 7, Perek 5, Ot 1:

… ולכן נקרא אותו המקום שנתצמצם בו בשם מלכות דאין סוף … הנה הוא הכל בהמלכות של כל גילוי כי כל צמצום הוא רק בהמלכות …

There are many similar statements across the writings of the Leshem. This source is particularly explicit and the review of all of Ot 1 will be insightful.

[12] In continuation of the response to R. Naor’s review, a number of points have been picked up on as detailed below. Please note that all of these points are side issues and pale into insignificance compared to the details of R. Naor’s stark omission of the concept of Tzimtzum in Malchut as per the main essay text. These points are as follows:

(1) In note 1 of his review, R. Naor quotes Dr. Menachem Kallus and mentions that in a note to Etz Chaim, R. Meir “Poppers writes that it sounds to him as if Luria’s disciples Rabbi Hayyim Vital and Rabbi Yosef ibn Tabul understood from the Rav [Isaac Luria] that ‘the Tzimtzum is literal’ (‘ha-tzimtzum ke-mishma‘o’).”

R. Naor’s suggestion here is that the Arizal is saying that the Tzimtzum process results in total literal removal and transcendence of God from physicality. However, in the light of the fact that we now know that the Tzimtzum process that the Arizal is referring to only took place in Malchut of the Ein Sof, this point is simply not relevant as the removal and transcendence only occurs in Malchut, from the perspective of the creations, Mitzideinu, but at the same time there is a total immanence of God within the unchanged presence of the Ein Sof.

Even the Baal HaTanya agrees that there is a removal in Malchut, resulting in physicality from our perspective, as he says e.g., in Sefer HaTanya 2:3 that our “flesh eyes” only see physicality.

Also see the particularly explicit statement of the Baal HaTanya in Sefer HaTanya 4:20 which is a direct corollary of the Mitzido/Mitzideinu concept of Nefesh HaChaim: “Relative to [God – i.e., Mitzido], the created physical entity is as if it has no consequence, i.e., its existence is nullified relative to the power and the light which is bestowed within it. It is like the radiance of the sun [before it has emanated and is still] within the sun. This is specifically relative to Him, where His Awareness is from above to below. However, from the perspective of the awareness of [the created entities – i.e, Mitzideinu,] from below to above, the created physical entity is an entirely separate/disconnected entity, with this awareness and perception being [only] from below, as [from its perspective] the power which is bestowed within it is absolutely not perceived at all.”

Multiple sources from across Sefer HaTanya directly expressing the Mitzido/Mitzideinu concept are brought in Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 94-95, fn. 120.

(2) R. Naor quotes from R. Yitzchak Aizik of Homil, one of the greatest students of the Baal HaTanya who stated that the Mitnagdim “have no room for this faith that All is God.”

It is of interest to note that R. Dessler was a close student of R. Mordechai Duchman who in turn was a close student of R. Yitzchak Aizik of Homil (See Nefesh Hatzimtzum, Vol. 2, p. 305, fn. 474). R. Dessler was therefore intimately familiar with the works of Lubavitch and would have most certainly been aware of R. Yitzchak Aizik of Homil’s comment.  Notwithstanding this he clearly saw that Tzimtzum was not the issue of the Machloket and valiantly tried to publicize this, as quoted in the continuation of this essay.

(3) The Baal HaTanya’s rejection of “Tzimtzum Kipshuto” (Sefer HaTanya 2:7) uses scathing, derisive language to describe those who hold by that position referring to them as “scholars in their own eyes” (Yishayahu 5:21) and that “they also do not speak intelligently” (Iyov 34:35). The question is who was the Baal HaTanya referring to? Nefesh HaTzimtzum presents a number of arguments to say that it could not have been the Vilna Gaon or R. Ricchi and by a process of elimination would then be referring to the Shabbatians.  R. Naor rejects this position but in doing so starkly omits most of the argumentation from Nefesh HaTzimtzum!

A brief summary of the main Nefesh HaTzimtzum arguments is presented as follows (see Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 75-79 for much more detail on this).

Firstly and most importantly, even if we were to say that the Baal HaTanya was directing his statements at the Vilna Gaon and disagreed with what he may have assumed was the Vilna Gaon’s position, it doesn’t change the fact that the Vilna Gaon actually agreed with the Baal HaTanya on Tzimtzum only occurring in Malchut. So the debate about who the Baal HaTanya was referring to, while it may be interesting, is academic as far as who held what about Tzimtzum is concerned, as both the Baal HaTanya and the Vilna Gaon shared a common position.

R. Naor severely underplays the level of vitriol in the Baal HaTanya’s tone and considers that his statements are mild.  In Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, p. 75, fn. 80, a number of sources are brought which demonstrate that Chazal very specifically used both the expressions “scholars in their own eyes” and “they do not speak intelligently” to refer to the “wicked”, e.g., “. . . and even among the wicked there are scholars, as it says . . . ‘Woe to those who are scholars in their own eyes’” (Bereishit Rabbati, Toldot, on Bereishit 26:12). Even if one could make a (somewhat forced) argument that the Baal HaTanya is taking these expressions out of their original context, since the Baal HaTanya quotes directly from R. Ricchi’s Mishnat Chassidim twice in Sefer HaTanya, it is highly questionable to suggest that such a punctilious author would quote holy statements from anyone he directly refers to derisively as “a scholar in his own eyes” and implies that he is wicked!

The section of Sefer HaTanya which included these statements, although distributed to the Baal HaTanya’s students and is extant in manuscripts of Sefer HaTanya, was only inserted for the first time in a published edition of Sefer HaTanya in the 1900 Romm edition some 88 years after the passing of the Baal HaTanya. It should be noted that this section was not just a few lines containing caustic statements. It actually ran on for a number of pages. The majority of the information it contains is repeated from other places in Sefer HaTanya, although brought together in an effective presentation in one place. Even though this is the only place in Sefer HaTanya that the specific expression “Tzimtzum Kipshuto” is used, the rejection of this position is very clear from the presentation of Tzimtzum in other places in Sefer HaTanya. Therefore, if it were just 2 or 3 caustic statements that were not initially included in Sefer HaTanya and were later inserted in the 1900 edition, it could reasonably be argued (as R. Naor suggests) that they were not included due to the raging arguments at the time of the original printing in 1796 and that they therefore were pointed at the Vilna Gaon. However, if the Baal HaTanya wanted to include this section, it would have been trivial for him to simply edit the 2 or 3 very brief caustic statements to make them politically correct. The fact that he did not edit these statements, but omitted the entire lengthy section, suggests that there was another reason for the omission.

It should also be noted that the Vilna Gaon, never used the expression “Tzimtzum Kipshuto” in any of his writings and also, as already explained, did not actually hold this position. This means that if the Baal HaTanya was directing his vitriol at the Vilna Gaon, he was doing so based on rumor. On the Baal HaTanya’s release from prison in 1798, he wrote a letter outlining the importance of remaining silent in the face of controversy, strongly highlighting that this is a characteristic of those close to God (Sefer HaTanya 4:2). Given the devotional premium that he attached to remaining silent in the face of controversy it would have been complete hypocrisy were the Baal HaTanya to have been openly derisive about his main partner in controversy. This is accentuated by the fact that the Vilna Gaon did not actually hold this position and the Baal HaTanya’s attack would have been based on rumor.

(4) R. Naor quotes what he refers to as a key passage from Yosher Levav (Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 260-261): “Therefore relative to us (le-gabei didan), it is as if there was no Tzimtzum and we can say that the Tzimtzum is not literal. However, relative to the Ein Sof (le-gabei ha-Ein Sof) itself, it is literal.”  He argues that as R. Ricchi is saying that relative to the creations the Tzimtzum is not literal, how can Nefesh HaTzimtzum present R. Ricchi as saying that relative to the creations the Tzimtzum IS literal?

Unfortunately, R. Naor omits to present the very specific and complex context of R. Ricchi’s statement which appears in Yosher Levav, Ch. 15 – and as a result his statement is misleading!

The context is set at the beginning of Ch. 15, arguably the most subtle argument in the Yosher Levav’s overall Tzimtzum presentation, saying “Even though we have proven that the Tzimtzum process itself is literal, nevertheless there is scope to say that the way in which the Tzimtzum process was applied was not literal”.

R. Ricchi spent the previous few chapters explaining that the Tzimtzum process is literal and earlier (Yosher Levav, Ch. 13) he makes a key statement: “even though I cannot imagine how this could be [literal], as I have no knowledge of how He can contract Himself since there was no space empty of Him – this is my deficiency, as I have no way of knowing anything about His Exalted Unity.”  He is saying that God’s perspective is unknowable and notwithstanding God’s point of view of there being no space empty of Him, that from the point of view of the creations there is an apparent literal removal of God even though, as R. Ricchi highlig hts, he cannot logically relate to how this can be so.  Therefore R. Ricchi’s general position is that from our point of view, relative to us, Tzimtzum IS literal.

In contrast, the very specific context of the beginning of Yosher Levav, Ch. 15, is discussing a scenario after the literal Tzimtzum has already taken place. R. Ricchi explains that after the literal Tzimtzum, there still remained a residue, called a “Reshimu,” which has greater creative intensity than anything we could ever imagine – therefore relative to us, we cannot differentiate between the intensity of the Reshimu and of the Ein Sof, so we would relate to the Reshimu in the same way as we do to the Ein Sof and therefore relative to us there is scope to say that it is as if there was no Tzimtzum – however relative to the Ein Sof it is literal, because compared to the Ein Sof the Reshimu is like something physical.

This point is succinctly related to in Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, p. 70, fn. 65.

[13] In particular by R. Yosef ben Immanuel Ergas and R. Immanuel Chai Ricchi. See Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 63-71, for details.

[14] This forged letter is published in Iggrot Kodesh Admor HaZaken, published by Kehot in 1987, letter 34, p. 85. It was first published as an appendix to Metzaref HaAvodah, 1858 – which was also an entirely forged work. For extensive details and hard evidence of both the letter and Metzaref HaAvodah forgeries, see Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 79-88.

[15] This was from a letter written by R. Dessler expressing his position on Tzimtzum. It was R. Dessler’s position which prompted the response by R. Schneerson in his 1939 letter.  R. Dessler’s complete letter is published in Kodshei Yehoshua by his son in-law R. Eliyahu Yehoshua Geldzahler, Volume 5, Siman 421, pp. 1716–1717. It is also partially printed in Michtav MeEliyahu by R. Eliyahu Dessler, Volume 4, p. 324. This part of the letter only appeared in earlier print editions of Michtav MeEliyahu and was removed from the more recent print editions when its editor later decided to include another paragraph which was previously omitted (the complete letter could not be included at that stage as the book layout had been fixed and the contents of this letter had to be restricted to a single page).

[16] E.g., R. Tzvi Elimelech Shapira of Dinov, the Bnei Yisaschar, in Derech Pikudecha, Mitzvah Lo Taaseh 16, Chelek Hamachshava 4. Also R. Nachman of Breslov in Sichot Moharan, Siman 267. See Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 137-138, fn. 217.

[17] E.g., as quoted frequently by the Chafetz Chaim in his Mishneh Berurah, referring to the Baal HaTanya as “HaGraz”, “HaGaon Rabbi Zalman.”

[18] See R. Chaim’s introduction to the Vilna Gaon’s commentary on Zohar as brought in Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, p. 464.

[19] E.g., R. Tzvi Hirsch of Zidichov in Sur MeRah VeAseh Tov, pp. 79–80 of the Emet publication,

Jerusalem, 1996. Also R. Yitzchak Issac Yehuda Yechiel of Komarna in Zohar Chai, Hakdamat Sefer HaZohar, p. 41b. See Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 138-139, fn. 217.