I have briefly mentioned previously the bibliography on the Teshuva seforim, Kuntress Ha-Teshuvot He-Hadash (“KTH”). The second of four volumes has been published and I wanted to provide a more in-depth review of this work. KTH is an update of Boaz Cohen’s earlier bibliography, Kuntres Ha-Teshuvot, of Teshuvos seforim. In truth, however, this is far from a standard bibliography and when viewed as merely a bibliography it falls short. There are two basic types of Jewish bibliography works. The first is a “standard” bibliography and contains a meticulous entry of the publication information of a book. So in this type the reader gets the title, author, page count, size and various editions. The second type, while sometimes less exact on the technical side makes up for that by including additional information either about the contents of the book or the author. An shining example of the second type is the Hida’s Shem HaGedolim. KTH, while it has some of the first type is much stronger if viewed as in the Shem HaGedolim category.

KTH provides the basic information for each entry. The information includes: title, author, place[s] the author lived, years the author lived, a description of the book, sources for biographical information on the author, various printings of the book, and where the editors have seen the book recorded. In the bibliographical sense, KTH does not attempt to provide information on every printing of a particular book. Thus, one looking for a complete history of printing will be disappointed. That said, today, with the ease of viewing almost every major library’s catalog online locating a particular edition is not too difficult.

Instead, what KTH provides is something a typical library catalog cannot – detailed information on the content of the books. For many, although not all, of the books listed in KTH there are detailed description of many of the questions that appear in the book in question. And, I cannot emphasis enough how much information they provide at times it is amazing as not only do they provide the details of the book itself the editors also provide articles on the topic in question or citations to other books that discuss the same or a similar question. A few examples from the literally hundreds of such entries. In the entry for מלחמות אלקים by R. Bernard Illowy (2266) they list some of the teshuvos in the sefer one is teshuva no. 4:

The entry for מספד תמרורים (no. 2366) states:

In honor of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the publication of Professor Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi’s Zakhor: Jewish History and Jewish Memory, the Jewish Quarterly Review published a special forum with articles by David N. Myers, Moshe Idel, Peter N. Miller, Gavriel D. Rosenfeld, Sidra DeKoven Ezrahi and Amnon Raz-Krakotzkin, in the latest issue of Jewish Quarterly Review 97.4 (Fall 2007).

Jewish Quarterly Review, established in 1889 and currently the oldest English-language journal in the field of Jewish studies, is published by the University of Pennsylvania’s Center for Advanced Judaic Studies. Elliott Horowitz of Bar Ilan University and David N. Myers of UCLA are the editors of Jewish Quarterly Review. (Full disclosure: I am the Editorial Intern of Jewish Quarterly Review).

Response to Professor Menachem Kellner
By Aryeh Leibowitz

To the editors of the Seforim blog:

In Professor Menachem Kellner’s spirited and scholarly post (“Who is the Person Whom Rambam Says Can be ‘Consecrated as the Holy of Holies’?”) at the Seforim blog, he argues that my inclusion of Rambam’s hilkhot Shemittah ve-Yovel passage is “based on a demonstrable misunderstanding of the Rambam,” and that this passage, understood properly, is not germane to the issue I am addressing. In this short response, I would like to address the cogency of Kellner’s claim that my failure to including gentiles in the Rambam’s intent “weakens” my argument, and comment on Kellner’s reading of the Rambam passage under discussion.

Kellner claims that “Leibowitz weakens his own argument by apparently not realizing that Rambam in hilkhot Shemittah ve-Yovel (13:13) is not talking about Jews in particular, let alone talmidei hakhamim.” I fail to see how this is so. I contend that the passage in hilkhot Shemittah ve-Yovel is Rambam’s statement of the lot and expectations of an individual who dedicates himself to God, and more importantly, the spiritual and moral responsibilities of such a person. Even if Kellner is correct that Rambam in this statement is also addressing gentiles, it certainly addresses Jews as well. We can debate if these expectations and responsibilities of the one who is consecrated to God described by Rambam apply to righteous gentiles, but that Rambam does refer to righteous Jews is beyond debate.

If we are in agreement that the passage in hilkhot Shemittah ve-Yovel addresses a Jew (and perhaps a non-Jew) who dedicates himself to God,[1] why would the following conclusion in my article not be appropriate and forthcoming?

The (disputable) fact that Rambam also includes gentiles in this statement does not exclude its relevance vis-à-vis Jews and their pursuit of a heightened spiritual existence. Had I written an article about a gentile who wished to live such a life, I would need to engage Professor Kellner’s suggestion regarding this passage.

In summation, I fail to understand why Kellner states regarding the passage in hilkhot Shemittah ve-Yovel that “Rambam here is talking about God’s support of all human beings who consecrate themselves,” and yet maintains that this passage does not shed light on God’s support of Jews who consecrate themselves.[2]

In regards to Kellner’s actual reading of the Rambam, I tend to agree.[3] As he notes, the Rambam uses this term in multiple contexts as a reference to all of humanity. Moreover, in the literature of Hazal, this is a standard expression for all the nations of the world.[4] In fact, I’m not sure how else one could read the words kol ba’ei ha-olam.

My translation (actual Prof. Twersky’s), as he notes, reflects this, as it is not Jew-specific. “Not only the Tribe of Levi, but every single individual from among the world’s inhabitants whose spirit moves him…” Indeed, an earlier draft of this article noted the universalistic tone of this passage in a footnote. However, I specifically removed it because I felt it was off topic, and not relevant to the discussion.

Lastly, I appreciate Prof. Kellner’s reference in his last footnote to Mordechai Friedman’s important article on this topic.[5] Unfortunately, my article was written and submitted early in 2005 and hence I did not have access to that article.

All in all, Prof. Kellner raises an important issue regarding how we Jews view the spiritual potential of our gentile neighbors, and is deserving of a fuller exploration within the religious thought of Rambam and other Jewish thinkers. However, it has no apparent bearing on the specific issue discussed in my article.

Aryeh Leibowitz
14 November, 2007

Notes:
[1] Prof. Kellner seems to present a confusing image of the Rambam’s intent. He suggests that I missed a crucial point, yet he claims: “Rambam is not talking about Jews, be they talmidei hakhamim supported by the community or not. He is talking about (unconverted) Gentiles who, through their devotion to God, become ‘as consecrated as the Holy of Holies.’” It is hard to imagine the Rambam is only talking about gentiles! And indeed, in the next sentence Kellner himself admits “Rambam here is talking about God’s support of all human beings who consecrate themselves…” (emphasis added).
[2] And that is why the commentators of Rambam that I quote indeed understand that this passage is relevant to Rambam’s comments in Pirkei Avot.
[3] It is crucial to note that the form of dedication to God that will be undertaken by a gentile will likely vary greatly from that of a Jew. See for example Rambam’s view regarding a gentile’s opportunities for Torah study and Sabbath observance in hilkhot Melakhim 10:9. This passage in Melakhim is also significant for our discussion as the end of the passage seems to bear a negative tone to the enterprise of an unconverted gentile seeking greater dedication to God through increased mitzvah observance.
[4] Besides the references made by Kellner, the Talmud Yerushalmi, and the “halakhic midrashim,” such as the Mekhilta, Sifra, and Sifre, all use this expression repeatedly to denote all of mankind.
[5] See Mordechai A. Friedman, “Rambam, Zuta, and the Muqaddams: A Story of Three Bans,” Zion 70 (2005): 473-528 (Hebrew).

Marc B. Shapiro holds the Weinberg Chair in Judaic Studies, Department of Theology and Religious Studies, University of Scranton. He is a frequent contributor to the Seforim blog and his most recent posts are “Forgery and the Halakhic Process” and “Forgery and the Halakhic Process, part 2.”

The post below was written as part of “Forgery and the Halakhic Process, part 2,” which the baale ha-blog have split up for the convenience of the readers of the Seforim blog. As such, the footnotes continue from the conclusion of the previous post.

Responses to Comments and Elaborations on Previous Posts

by Marc B. Shapiro

1. Some were not completely happy with an example I gave of an error in the Chavel edition of Ramban in a previous post at the Seforim blog. So let me offer another, also from one of Ramban’s talmudic works (since that was the genre I used last time). In Kitvei Ramban, 1:413, Chavel prints the introduction to Milhamot ha-Shem. The Ramban writes:

In his note, Chavel explains the last words as follows:

Yet what Ramban means by למתחיל פרק אין עומדין are the children who begin their talmudic study with Tractate Berakhot. In other words, it is only the explanations and pesakim of the Rif that are obvious even to the beginner that have not been challenged.[21]

Regarding the example I gave in my last post at the Seforim blog, I forwarded to R. Mazuz one of the questions I received, which dealt with the form of the verb אסף found in the Ramban:

He answered as follows:

I must note, however, that while R. Mazuz’ understanding of Ps. 105:25 is in line with the Targum, this is not how the standard Jewish translations understand the verse.

(Shortly before writing this, I read about the outrage taking place in Emanuel, where in the local Beit Yaakov Sephardi students are being segregated from Ashkenazim to the extent that the two are not even permitted to play together. The Shas party has referred to this as nothing less than Apartheid, which it surely is.[22] What’s next? Mehadrin buses where the Sephardim sit in the back? Of course, when this happens the justification given will once again be that Ashkenazim are on a higher spiritual level and that’s why they can’t sit with Sephardim, not that they are racist, chas ve-shalom.

I mention this because R. Mazuz has made a comment that is relevant in this regard. Speaking to Ashkenazim who like to imagine the tannaim as “white”, he has called attention to Negaim 2:1, where R. Yishmael states that Jews are neither black nor white, but in between. In other words, the tannaim looked like Sephardim.)

2. One of the e-mails to me stated that we Modern Orthodox types love to criticize Artscroll, but how come we never point out errors in the Rav’s works. I can’t speak for anyone else, and it is true that the Rav has now assumed hagiographic standing, meaning that it has become much harder to criticize him or point out supposed errors in his works. However, if I detect what I think is an error I will definitely call attention to it, and I believe the Rav would expect as much, for this is a sign that you are taking his writing seriously. If the Rambam could make careless errors (the focus of a large section of my forthcoming Studies in Maimonides and His Interpreters, available for pre-order on Amazon for only $8) then anyone can err, and it is no disrespect to call attention to these errors. There are actually a number of seforim which have sections in which they call attention to careless errors or things overlooked in the writings of various aharonim.

I understand why students of the Rav and his modern day hasidim might be reluctant to do so, but I never had any real relationship with him and can approach matters as an outsider. My only connection to the Rav was one summer in the Boston kollel (1985, the last year of the kollel. When I lived in Brookline in the 1990’s the Rav was no longer well). I was, however, privileged, together with Rabbi Chaim Jachter, to drive him back and forth to the Twersky’s house, and was thus able to hear some memorable things from him which I will record in a future post at the Seforim blog.

While on the topic of the Rav, let me also state that I used the Rav’s Machzor on Yom Kippur. I found the commentary uplifting and great credit must go to Dr. Arnold Lustiger for the effort he put into the volume. But there is one thing in the Machzor that annoyed me. It relates to what is called Hanhagot ha-Rav. This section includes all of the various practices of the Rav. This is certainly worth knowing and it wouldn’t have bothered me had it simply appeared at the beginning of the Machzor. But that is not the case.

Before I explain the problem, let me start with the following: A number of years ago I asked Prof. Haym Soloveitchik what the practice of his father was in a certain matter. His response was short and crisp. He told me that he never answers questions about his father’s hanhagot, and that to do so would be in total opposition to his father’s outlook.

I assume that today, if it was clear that my concern was of an academic nature, he would be more forthcoming. But back then I was another unknown kid writing to him trying to find some interesting practice of the Rav.

The way I understood Prof. Soloveitchik is that his father, like many gedolim, had practices that diverged from the mainstream. They came to these practices based on their original reading of the sources. Yet these were entirely private practices, reserved at most for other family members and perhaps some very close students. Because they went against the mainstream, they were not for mass consumption. Along these lines, R. Zevin reports, in his article on R. Hayyim Soloveitchik in his Ishim ve-Shitot, that it was such an outlook that explained why R. Hayyim did not want to decide practical halakhah. His original mind would lead him to overturn many accepted halakhot, yet he was not prepared to do so.

Returning to my problem with the Rav’s Machzor, we are told the following in this book: The Rav reversed the order of the final two phrases in the benediction ולירושלים in the Amidah, saying וכסא דוד מהרה לתוכה תכין prior to saying ובנה אותה בקרוב בימינו בנין עולם. This is the way the Sephardic siddurim have it, but certainly the Rav did not expect the entire Ashkenazic world to abandon their long-standing practice because of his practice. Yet when this paragraph (in minhah before Yom Kippur and maariv following Yom Kippur) appears there is a note telling people how the Rav read it. This is certainly encouraging people to abandon the Ashkenazic tradition in favor of the Rav’s reading. From all that I know about the Rav, this is not something he would have wanted.

Another example is that we are told that the Rav omitted the blessing הנותן ליעף כח as it is post-Talmudic. What possible purpose can such information have when provided on the page where this blessing appears, other than to lead people to omit the blessing? Is one to assume that the Rav really wanted people to reject the universal Ashkenazic practice? The Rav never got up at an RCA convention and told people that this is what they should do. Even at the Maimonides minyan and school there is no official minhag to omit this blessing. R. David Shapiro reported to me that almost all those who daven from the amud at the Maimonides synagogue minyan recite the blessing, and everyone does so at the Maimonides school minyan. Yet I wonder how many followers of the Rav are now omitting the blessing after seeing what appears in the Rav’s Machzor.

There are other examples, and as I said above, I don’t believe that this information should be secret. However, when you put it on the relevant pages of the Machzor, where the instructions to the worshipper are designed to be for practical application, you are telling people that if they see themselves as followers of the Rav, then they should follow his practices.

Since my correspondent made the false assumption that I would never point out an error of the Rav, and indeed almost challenged me, let me offer one. In Halakhic Man, page 30, in writing about halakhic man’s relationship with transcendence, the Rav writes:

It is this world which constitutes the stage for the Halakhah, the setting for halakhic man’s life. It is here that the Halakhah can be implemented to a greater or lesser degree. It is here that it can pass from potentiality into actuality. It is here, in this world, that halakhic man acquires eternal life! “Better is one hour of Torah and mitzvot in this world than the whole life of the world to come,” stated the tanna in Avot [4:17], and his declaration is the watchword of the halakhist.

I am not an expert in scholarship on the Rav,[23] so I may have missed it, but I have not seen any articles on Halakhic Man which call attention to the fact that the Rav has misquoted Avot. What the Mishnah says is “Better is one hour of repentance and good deeds in this world than the whole life of the world to come.” Also surprising to me is that the learned translator did not mention the problem with the Rav’s quotation.[24] Is it possible that the Rav’s intellectualism and “halakho-centrism” led him to unknowingly replace בתשובה ומעשים טובים with בתורה ומצוות?

While on the topic of the Rav, which is always of interest to people, let me note another error in the Rav’s writings, although this time the printer is at fault.[25] It has been reprinted a number times and the sentence has also appeared in translation. I realize that it is difficult to say that a text that appeared in the Rav’s own lifetime a few times without correction is a mistake, so I would love to be proven wrong. Yet it does seem that we are confronted with a typo. I would assume that the Rav never knew of the mistake, since people often don’t read their own material after it appears in print. In “U-Vikashtem mi-Sham”[26] the Rav writes:

Can there be any doubt that instead of הר”י the text should read רש”י?

R. Aharon Kafih, in his new book Minhat Aharon, 416, calls attention to a similar type of error in Shiurim le-Zekher Abba Mari, 1:14-15, n. 5 (I don’t have this book, so I can’t determine if Kafih is correct). Here the Rav writes:

Kafih writes:

3. A few people asked me about R. Mazuz’s reference to the homosexual poem in Judah Al-Harizi’s Tahkemoni (see my previous footnote 15, here). The relevant section, which appears in Gate 50, reads as follows

The translation is:

To a man who wrote a poem full of filth and lewdness

Were Amram’s son to see my friend’s face
Blushing when he drinks strong drink
And for the loveliness of his locks and the splendor of his beauty
He would not have inscribed in his Torah
“If a man lie with mankind” (cf. Lev. 20:13).[27]

Following this, Al-Harizi, quotes the poems of nine others, and himself, who condemn the homosexual poet. Some contemporary readers might be shocked to see the language used. It is certainly not anything that those preaching a message of “hate the sin and love the sinner” vis-à-vis the gay community – and this includes R. Chaim Rapoport, the world’s expert on halakhah and homosexuality – would endorse. For example, one of the poems reads:

He who sells the sanctity of God for defilement
Let him quickly be sold into the hand of the slayer.

Another reads:

Almighty, deliver speedily into the hand of death
The man who has sold Thy law into sin.

In fact, all of the poems quoted by Al-Harizi call for the gay poet to be struck down, in one way or another.

The gay poet speaks of the face of the young man, and this is actually a popular theme. In particular, the poets focus on the cheeks. There are a number of examples of this in R. Moses Ibn Ezra and Ibn Gabirol, but let give two examples from R. Judah Halevi:

This means “From his cheeks is my spice garden, as poison comes from his eyes.”[28] Brody notes that the first part is working off Song of Songs 5:13, where the woman says לחיו כערוגת הבושם, “His cheeks are as a bed of spices.” The last section means, to use a modern expression, “his look can kill.” That is, if he gives you non-approving look, it is crushing.

Elsewhere, Halevi writes:[29]

In Norman Roth’s translation: “Cheeks like coals of fire on a pavement of marble,” or as he paraphrases, “ruddy cheeks on pale skin.”[30]

I was asked about the meanings of these poems. I am hardly expert in this area and must leave it to others to determine the exact sense. There has been some dispute about them, although the current scholarly consensus is not something that will make the Orthodox community very happy.[31] I would like to believe that Nehemiah Allony is correct that all of these poems are to be understood as simple imitations of the dominant Arabic style, or as akin to the Song of Songs, where the love poems are to be understood allegorically as symbolizing spiritual matters. R. Shmuel ha-Nagid actually says this explicitly about his poems dealing with man-boy love.[32] (I think we can all agree that writing such verse today will certainly, and deservedly, get a rebbe fired![33])

The issue of homosexuality in the medieval Jewish world even came into the great conflict between R. Saadiah Gaon and David ben Zakkai. This was because the future gaon of Pumbeditha, R. Aaron ben Joseph ha-Kohen Sargado, who was on David ben Zakkai’s side, accused R. Saadiah of having homosexual relations with young men. If that is not bad enough, he adds that this was done with sifrei kodesh in the room and that witnesses can attest to it![34] This is, of course, an abominable accusation, and Harkavy, in his introduction (p. 223), apologizes for having to print what he terms

Of course, this is hardly the first example of rabbis, even great ones, hurling outrageous accusations at each other, but it is hard to find anything more disgraceful than this. The only example I can think of that is in this league is found in R. Jacob Emden’s Hit’avkut, 76b-77a, where he publicizes the disgusting accusation that R. Jonathan Eybeschütz fathered a child with his own daughter! If that’s not bad enough, this horrible story is repeated by R. Marvin Antelman in his Bekhor Satan, 37-38. (Antelman and his unusual writings deserve their own post at the Seforim blog.) It was regarding this sort of mudslinging that R. Zvi Yehudah Kook is quoted as follows (Gadol Shimushah [Jerusalem, 1994], 20):

Academic scholars such as Scholem have also noted the destructive affect on traditional Jewish society of the battle against Sabbatianism in general, and the Emden-Eybeschütz conflict in particular.

4. Since in my earlier post at the Seforim blog on the Eshkol I mentioned R. Yitzhak Ratsaby, and his negative attitude towards R. Joseph Kafih, I should note that one of Kafih’s students, R. Aharon Kafih (no relation) has recently published his Minhat Aharon.[35] On pages 211 n. 13 and 255 n. 45, there are some very strong attacks on Ratsaby, even accusing him of plagiarism. He also mentions how Ratsaby, when he needs to quote something from R. Yihye Kafih (known among his followers as מו”ר הישיש), will omit the last name so that people won’t know to whom he is referring. As Tamir Ratzon has pointed out, in the 1970’s Ratsaby referred positively to R. Joseph Kafih,[36] yet unfortunately, this is no longer the case. In fact, R. Aharon Kafih reports that Ratsaby tells people that it is forbidden to have any of R. Joseph Kafih’s books, and they must be burnt![37]

This dispute between Ratsaby and Kafih is simply a continuation of the great Yemenite dispute over the legitimacy of Kabbalah. It began with Kafih’s grandfather, R. Yihye, who stood at the head of the anti-Kabbalah forces.[38] Matters reached such extremes that the pro-Kabbalah side was successful in having R. Yihye thrown into jail (much like some mitnagdim conspired to have the same done to R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady). Here is the cover of a rare pamphlet published about 20 years ago. It is directed against both R. Yihye and R. Joseph.5. In my earlier post at the Seforim blog I referred to the anti-Habad book Ve-Al Titosh Torat Imekha. A few people asked me how they can get this book. The author, who wishes to remain anonymous so that he can be spared the personal price paid by anyone who goes up against Habad messianism, told me that when I quote his letter (see below). I should also announce that anyone who is interested in the book should write to him at the following address

This book is interesting because you see that the author is somewhat conflicted. On the one hand, he recognizes how great the Rebbe was and all the positive things Habad has accomplished. On the other hand, he sees what is going on today and reluctantly concludes that the Rebbe himself crossed the line into heretical statements. I asked him why, if he thinks the Rebbe advocated heretical notions, he still shows him great respect? Why doesn’t he treat him as an enemy of traditional Judaism, as he would all others who advanced heresy? He wrote to me as follows.

So Rabbi Halevi feels that the Lubavitcher Rebbe denied certain of Maimonides Principles and yet he won’t regard him as a heretic because of all the good he accomplished. Once again, theological error in the Thirteen Principles, and the consequences that are supposed to result from this, have been trumped by other considerations. I don’t know how many more examples I need to bring where even the most traditional scholars are not prepared to accept Maimonides’ statement that rejection of one his Principles ipso facto removes one from the faith.[39] Of course, followers of the Rebbe will deny that he has violated any of Maimonides’ principles, but what is important for my purpose is that Rabbi Halevi has no doubt, and elaborates at length, on how the Rebbe has indeed done so. Yet despite this, he still does not regard him as a heretic.

6. In my earlier post at the Seforim blog I wrote that it is unfortunate that one of the only things R. Joseph Messas is known for is being the posek who permitted married women to uncover their hair. Someone wrote to tell me that he was not the only Moroccan rabbi to do so, as R. Moshe Malka, the late chief rabbi of Petah Tikvah, also ruled this way in his responsa Ve-Heshiv Moshe. (Malka published six volumes of responsa entitled Mikveh ha-Mayim; I don’t know why, for his last volume, he picked a new title). The correspondent began his e-mail regarding Malka by noting “I don’t know if you are aware . . . ” In fact, I am well aware of Rabbi Malka’s teshuvot on this topic, as they were addressed to someone I know very well. Since not everyone has access to the volume, here are the responsa. A quick internet search revealed that R. Irving Greenberg picked up on this source.[40] (He obviously saw it in one of R. Michael Broyde’s articles, as Greenberg also cites R. Yehoshua Babad, whose understanding of women’s hair-covering has been one of the bases for Broyde’s own lenient opinion in this matter, and it was Broyde who first publicized Babad’s view.)

7. In my last post at the Seforim blog I mentioned that the version וכל נוצר יורה in Yigdal is found in Birnbaum but not in earlier sources. Noam Kaplan pointed out that this is incorrect and that it is found in at least two early siddurim.[41] It is incredible that Abraham Berliner, who was an expert in manuscripts and early prayer books, overlooked this. R. Mazuz was also unaware of this version, and the Siddur ha-Meduyak only gives וכל נוצר יודה as an alternate. I am grateful to Noam for the correction. It is a good illustration of how the accumulated knowledge of many readers is a great help to all of us.

8. In my first post on the Eshkol, I raised the issue of whether one can accept a pesak even if one is convinced that it is incorrect from the standpoint of modern scholarship. I quoted Prof. David Berger’s view that it is acceptable to do so. Subsequently, I found that Berger also discusses this matter in a recent essay, where he raises the problem without advocating any position.

In the realm of concrete decision-making in specific instances, it is once again the case that the impact of academic scholarship does not always point in a liberal direction. In other words, the instincts and values usually held by academics are not necessarily upheld by the results of their scholarly inquiry, and if they are religiously committed, they must sometimes struggle with conclusions that they wish they had not reached Thus, the decision that the members of the Ethiopian Beta Israel are Jewish was issued precisely by rabbis with the least connection with academic scholars. The latter, however much they may applaud the consequences of this decision, cannot honestly affirm that the origins of the Beta Israel are to be found in the tribe of Dan; here, liberally oriented scholars silently, and sometimes audibly, applaud the fact that traditionalist rabbis have completely ignored the findings of contemporary scholarship.[42]

I have to say that I too struggled with this question, as I was involved in the Ethiopian Jewry cause.[43] My first trip there, in 1987, was memorable, as we were the first group allowed into the villages of Gondar after Operation Moses. (It was also great to be together with Rabbi Dr. Ari Zivotofsky, who in recent years has done such important work on various communal traditions that are in danger of being forgotten.) Yet I vividly recall how even then, when I was quite young, I knew that the notion of the Ethiopian Jews being descended from Dan was a legend without any historical value. The Ethiopians themselves never claimed that they had any connection to the tribe of Dan.

The legend goes back to Eldad ha-Dani and was accepted as authentic by the Radbaz.[44] Based on this, and some other sources that accepted this spurious identification, R. Ovadiah Yosef declared the Ethiopian Jews halakhically Jewish. I regarded R. Ovadiah as a hero for taking this step. Truth be told, I didn’t care how he arrived at this decision; I was just happy he did. My attitude was that it is not for me to be mixing in on these matters, even if I know that certain things being stated don’t stand up to scholarly scrutiny. After all, halakhah operates as an independent discipline with its own rules. The halakhic “truth” need not be identical with what an outsider observer would regard as truth.

Notes:

[21] See R. Meir Mazuz’ note in R. Hayyim Amselem, Minhat Hayyim, 2:15. Incidentally, Amselem is currently a Shas party member of the Knesset. See here.

[22] See here.

[23] Despite this, I am happy to report that I recently discovered a number of interesting letters from the Rav which Prof. Haym Soloveitchik kindly gave me permission to publish. Other than this, my only contribution to studies of the Rav – and I record this only to set the historical record straight – was in locating the material relating to the Rav’s time at the University of Berlin. I gave copies of it to both Dr. Atarah Twersky and the late Dr. Manfred Lehmann for him to publish it in his weekly column in the English section of the Allgemeiner Journal. (How I came to know Dr. Lehmann and why I gave him the material is a story unto itself.) This then became his famous article, “Rewriting the Biography of the Rav,” which has been referred to many times. See here. I am never mentioned in the article, and he even writes, with reference to the Rav’s diploma: “But the fact that it is still housed in Berlin, where I got the copy, might indicate that the Rav never received it, or that he got the original while a copy was kept in the Berlin file — which, together with all other correspondence — survived the war and the near-destruction of Berlin” (emphasis added; when I gave her the material, Dr. Twersky told me that she already had a copy of the diploma). In R. Rakefet’s biographical introduction to his book on the Rav, page 68, he writes: “The author’s student Marc B. Shapiro obtained a copy of a curriculum vitae prepared by the Rav for the University of Berlin while engaged in research for his doctoral dissertation on Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg. Dr. Manfred Lehmann later published this information about the Rav. . . .”

[24] Lawrence Kaplan went through the entire English translation of Halakhic Man with the Rav. See his “On Translating Ish ha-Halakhah with the Rav: Supplementary Notes to Halakhic Man,” The Commentator (10/23/06), available online. We can therefore view Lawrence Kaplan’s edition as an authorized translation. This makes Marvin Fox’s criticism of one of Kaplan’s translations a bit strange, unless Fox assumed that the Rav didn’t always pay the closest attention to what was in the English. See Marvin Fox, “The Unity and Structure of Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s Thought,” Tradition 24:3 (Spring 1989): 63, n. 7.

[25] I should also note two errors the Rav made in his evaluation of communal matters. 1. He was strongly opposed to changing the charter of YU and turning RIETS into an “affiliate.” Dr. Belkin had been assured by the lawyers he consulted that the change was only a technicality, and that the school would continue to run no differently than before. Yet there were a few hotheads who had the Rav’s ear and had convinced him that this meant the end of Yeshiva University as a real Torah institution. The story of how the Rav, in front of hundreds of people, challenged Belkin on this point, and how Belkin pulled the microphone away from him, has been repeated many times. I have been told (although I don’t know if it’s true) that following this episode YU refused to permit the Rav to speak at university events. With the benefit of hindsight, it is obvious that Belkin was correct and the character of YU did not change. (This reminds me of the doomsayers, and those who were saying tehillim, when it was announced that a non-rabbinic figure would become president of YU. Here again, nothing changed). 2. The second example is the Rav’s firm belief, and in this he was in agreement with R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, that a haredi society, and certainly real hasidic societies, could never flourish in the U.S. Here too he was mistaken (as were most observers). This latter error is very important for the Rav’s right-wing students, for they would like to believe that as he saw the development of American Orthodoxy in the 1970’s his view about the necessity for higher secular education changed. One of his leading students has stated on a number of occasions that the Rav could not be a part of Agudah in the 1950’s because the organization opposed all secular education. But today the Agudah convention is filled with lawyers and other professionals, and therefore the Rav would have no reason to leave Agudah – as if the Rav’s position on religious Zionism was not an important factor of his Weltanschauung. For the haredi world, one of the Rav’s great errors was his description of the differences between the Chazon Ish and the Brisker Rav, as expressed in the eulogy he delivered for the latter. During this eulogy R. Dovid Cohen famously screamed his protest at what he thought was the disrespect shown to the Chazon Ish. The Rav’s wife yelled that he should be taken out, and none other than R. David Hartman physically forced Cohen out of the hall. A few weeks ago R. Rakefet faxed me some pages from a new book on the Brisker Rav. Lo and behold, this hagiography says exactly what the Rav said, to wit, the Chazon Ish was prepared to engage in some flattery vis-à-vis Ben Gurion for the sake of kelal Yisrael, but the Brisker Rav was such an ish emet that no matter how good the cause he couldn’t bring himself to do this.

[26] Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Ish ha-Halakhah: Galui ve-Nistar (Jerusalem, 1979), 230.

[27] The translation is that of Victor Emanuel Reichert, The Tahkemoni of Judah al-Harizi (Jerusalem, 1973), 2:404-405 (with slight changes).

[28] Judah ha-Levi, Divan, ed., Heinrich (Hayyim) Brody (Berlin, 1894-1930), 15.

[29] Ibid., 31.

[30] Norman Roth, “‘Deal Gently with the Young Man’: Love of Boys in Medieval Hebrew Poetry of Spain,” Speculum 57:1 (1982): 47.

[31] See Raymond P. Scheindlin, Wine, Women, and Death: Medieval Hebrew Poems on the Good Life (New York, 1986), 77-89.

[32] See Nehemia Allony, “The ‘Zevi’ (=Nasib) in the Hebrew Poetry in Spain,” Sefarad 23 (1963): 311-321. Norman Roth, “‘My Beloved is like a Gazelle’: Imagery of the Beloved Boy in Religious Hebrew Poetry,” in Wayne R. Dynes, and Stephen Donaldson, eds., Homosexuality and Religion and Philosophy (New York, 1992), 271-293, only sees allegory in the religious poems, not the shirei hol.

[33] Part of the problem in responding to the current scandal of sexual abuse is that halakhah, as it has been understood in the past, often stands in the way. For example, R. Menachem Mendel Schneersohn (the third Lubavitcher Rebbe) in Tzemah Tzedek, Yoreh Deah, #237, was asked the following question: A rabbi was playing with a young man on Purim and stuck his hands into the pants of the youth. The rabbi claimed that he did so because he was unable to perform sexually. He thought that this was due to his small testicles and he wanted to see if he was unusual in this regard. In other words, the rabbi was conducting a medical examination on the boy. The Tzemah Tzedek decided that the rabbi should not be removed from his position, as he provided a good explanation for his behavior. One can only wonder how many other boys were subjected to this rabbi’s medical examinations. Regarding another problematic decision, this time by the Aderet, see here.

[34] Abraham Harkavy, ed., Zikaron la-Rishonim (St. Petersburg, 1892), 5:230. Henry Malter writes as follows about R. Aaron (Saadia Gaon [Philadelphia, 1942], 113, 114):

This man hardly deserves the respect and consideration usually accorded to him by modern authors. He may have been a great scholar, as is attested by contemporary sources, and he may also have possessed other good qualities – liberality, devotion to communal interests, and the like. But from all that is related of him in the same sources, he was also a man of violent, quarrelsome, and vindictive temper, and of an absolutely tyrannical bent of mind. . . . Morbidly vainglorious and ambitious, he bore a grudge against the generally admired scholar [R. Saadiah], which may have been enhanced by the latter’s independent spirit and perhaps open disregard for his person.

[35] It is only recent years that scholars have begun to take advantage of Kafih’s enormous contribution to the study of the Mishneh Torah, and R. Aharon Kafih is at the forefront in this area.

[36] “Maharitz u-Minhagei Sefarad,” Mesorah le-Yosef 1-2 (Netanya, 2007), 121, n. 69.

[37] For R. Ovadiah Yosef’s recent condescending reference to Ratsaby, see here.

[38] The most recent article on the topic is Mark S. Wagner, “Jewish Mysticism on Trial in a Muslim Court: A Fatwa on the Zohar – Yemen 1914,” Die Welt des Islams 47:2 (July 2007): 207-231 (called to my attention by Menachem Butler). Here is a famous picture of R. Yihye. It is hanging in R. Joseph Kafih’s house and was sent to me by a friend.

[39] At my request, Rabbi Daniel Eidensohn asked R. Moshe Sternbuch to explain how he can declare that R. Nosson Slifkin’s ideas are heresy, but Slifkin himself is not to be regarded as a heretic. He replied that he holds like the Ra’avad, i.e., that kefirah be-shogeg does not turn a person into a heretic.

[40] Nancy Wolfson-Moche, ed., Toward a Meaningful Bat Mitzvah (Florida: Targum Shlishi, 2002), 30, available online here.

[41] See here (Bologna, 1540), 28, and here (Lisbon, 1490), 10.

[42] “Identity, Ideology and Faith: Some Personal Reflections on the Social, Cultural and Spiritual Value of the Academic Study of Judaism,” in Howerd Kreisel, ed., Study and Knowledge in Jewish Thought (Beer Sheva, 2006), 27.

[43] I also wrote two articles on the topic. See my “Return of a Lost Tribe: The Unfinished Exodus of the Ethiopian Jews,” The World & I 3 (April 1988), available online; and “The Falasha of Ethiopia,” The World & I 2 (December 1987), available online.

Contrary to what it says at the beginning of these articles, I didn’t live with the Ethiopian Jews. Unfortunately, the online versions do not contain the beautiful pictures I took. Here are a few pictures (the men were religious leaders of the village). The book in strange script is the Torah written in Ge’ez. My second trip to Ethiopia was in August 1991, a few months after the overthrow of the Mengistu communist regime. There was still a nighttime curfew in effect during this period and I did not go with a group. While in Addis Ababa I was lucky to become friendly with Asher Naim, the Israeli ambassador. Although this is a story worth telling, for now let me simply recommend his book Saving the Lost Tribe: The Rescue and Redemption of the Ethiopian Jews.

[44] In his famous letter urging that the Ethiopian Jews be rescued, R. Moshe Feinstein also expresses doubts about whether the Radbaz’ information about their origin was accurate. See here.

I can’t find R. Moshe’s letter in Iggerot Moshe (although a different letter, dated one day later, is found in Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah 4, # 41).

Someone in a comment to a recent post mentioned an article that appears in the latest issue of the journal Ets Hayyim. This journal is published by the “students and hassidim of Bobov.” [Supposedly this journal is a break-off of the excellent journal Kerem Shlomo.]
The journal is comprised of what most torah journals are today, there is a section publishing manuscripts hiddushei torah, general hiddushei torah, some articles on halacha etc. In this fourth and most recent issue there is an article that I think deserves wider dissemination.

R. Shmuel Aboab (1610-1694), author of the Davar Shmuel (as well as Sefer Zikrohonot, discussed here, and Tavat Dovid) was one of the leading rabbis in Italy and Europe of his day. He corresponded with numerous people, part of that correspondence was published in Davar Shmuel. Davar Shmuel, published posthumously by his son, was a mahdurah kama (first edition -that Spiegel doesn’t mention in his discussion regarding mahdurah kama/tinyana – although it is a printed book and not a manuscript), and does not include all R. Shmuel Aboab’s responsa (something that was not corrected in the latest reprint of the Davar Shmuel). For many years, a collection of R. Abaob’s letters (approximately 300!) were in the Montefiore Library and now they have passed into private hands. (These letters are mentioned in Hartwig Hirschfeld’s Descriptive Cataloue of the Hebrew Manuscripts in the Montefiore Library – but the Google books version is for some reason missing the relevant page.) According to the description provided in Ets Hayyim, many of these letters have never been published or used by scholars (see below for a discussion of this claim). In Ets Hayyim, they have published one of the letters in its entirety. A detailed introduction about the manuscript generally and R. Aboab is included. This was written by R. Betzalel Divlitski. R. Divlitski uses traditional as well as academic sources in his introduction. Also an index of all the letters from the Montefiore collection is provided that includes some important snippets of these letters. For instance, one letter (no. 125) includes information when R. Ya’akov Hagiz came to Italy, something, according to R. Divlitski, that was previously not definitively known (again, see infra for more on this claim). According to the index, this letter tells us R. Hagiz came to Italy in 1659 (see infra note 2 ). Moreover, the letter that is published is in no way pedestrian. Rather, it is about a controversial topic and takes, what can be seen, as a controversial position.

While the above comes from R. Divlitski’s introduction and notes, it is worthwhile pointing out some serious shortcomings in R. Divlitski’s comments. R. Divlitski claims that most of these letters have never been published. This is wrong, and R. Divlitski knows it is wrong. Most of these letters were published by Meir Benayahu in his Dor Echad B’Aretz. R. Divliksi is aware of Benahyahu’s work as he cites it throughout. Divliski also made the claim the letter discussing when R. Hagiz came to Italy [1] was unknown, while again Benayahu has it in his work and discusses its implications (Dor Echad pp. 304-5). [2] Moreover, although R. Divlitski is willing to use the book he is unwilling to say who actually wrote it. Thus, every time R. Divlitski cites Dor Echad he never mentions Benayahu’s name. Lest one think Benayahu is somehow “treif” (whatever that may mean), R. Shlomo Zalman Aurbach seem to have no problem with Benayahu and read Benayahu’s works. (See Benayahu, Yosef Becheiri, Jerusalem, 1991, p. 364, 380). [3]

A bit of history regarding Benayhu’s work – Dor Echad B’Aretz – published in Jerusalem, 1988. A while back Benayahu while traveling the world and discovered this excellent collection of letters of R. Shmuel Aboab. He even writes that he could not believe his luck on finding them – these untapped sources full of this incredible wealth of information.[4] He noted that they were extremely important for multiple areas. Therefore, Benahayu went ahead and started printing them in many different journals. These articles started appearing as early as 1954. He divided the letters into different topics, inter alia, history of Eretz Yisroel, seforim and Sabbatianism. In 1988 Benayahu collected many of these letters from these varied journals and added some more from this collection (over 100) and printed them in one volume – Dor Echad B’Aretz. In this volume he included a comprehensive history of R. Abaob and R. Moshe Zaccuto (as Benayahu is well-known for his comprehensive biographies and works). For some odd reason he did not print all the letters from this collection nor did he even print all the letters he had already published. It could be that he never noted this important letter (now published in Ets Hayyim) perhaps because he planed on coming to it in a future work as it is well known he has over thirty years worth of seforim in manuscript!

Turning back to the article, R. Divlitski is correct that the letter regarding Modena has never been published and is thus important. [It is unclear why Benayahu decided not to publish this letter.] Thus, what Diviltski should have done was prefaced his article stating that although much has been written on R. Aboab and on the letters formerly housed in the Montefiore Library and many were published by Benayahu, for some reason, a very important letter has thus far escaped publication and now to remedy that, the letter is now being published – now on to the actual letter.

The letter in question discusses the belief, or lack thereof, in gilgul (transmitigation of souls). This subject has been a hot topic for centuries and much has been written on it in general and will be the subject of a different post. [For now, see Kol Hanevuah from R. Dovid Hanazir pp. 230-36 for an excellent collection of material on this topic and see R. Reuven Margolis in Sharei Zohar, Bavaeh Metziah, 107a.]

One of the persons to have denied belief in gilgul was R. Yehudah Aryeh Modena in his work Ari Noham. While Modena explicitly denied gilgul, some questioned whether that was truly his position. The Hida, first in Shem HaGedolim and later on in his travelogue, Ma’agel Tov, (pg 113) Hida states that he saw Modena’s then unpublished autobiography and the Hida claimed that Modena wrote that he changed his opinion on gilgul because of an event he witnessed towards the end of his life. Joseph Michael Hayim in Or haHayyim (pg 443) mentions that he never found evidence of Modena’s change of heart in any manuscripts of Modena’s autobiography. [Divlitski alludes to Hayim, but like the other “academics” doesn’t cite to him or mention him explicitly.] Today, we have two printed editions of Modena’s autobiography and neither has any reference to Modena’s alleged change of heart. It is worth noting that the autobiography contains other fascinating material – much of which would not be considered flattering as it portrays Modena in a very human sense. Thus, in the Sefer HaTerumos published by Mechon Yerushalim with the commentary of the Gedulei Terumah, by R. Azariah Figo, a student of Modean, an amazing allegation is made to deal with Modena’s Autobiography. A. Goldschmidt in the introduction claims that because of the content of the Autobiography it is “a forgery.” The reason being “it is unconscionable that a qualified Talmid Hakham such as R. Yehuha Areyeh Modena [would write things] that [even] simple people would not want publicized.” (p. 25 n.8).

The letter now published in Ets Hayyim is not from Modena but instead from R. Aboab to R. Moshe Zacuto about R. Yehuda Areyeh Modena. [5] Specifically, R. Zacuto heard that R. Modena was denying and publicizing that gilgul was not a Jewish belief. R. Zacuto wanted to put Modena in herem or come out against him, and wrote to R. Aboab to get his opinion. As R. Divlitski demonstrates this letter is key to disproving the notion that although Modena initially did not believe in gilgul he changed his mind later. Due to the timing of this letter it appears that either literally at the end of Modena’s life he repudiated his belief on gilgul or, the more likely conclusion is that Modena never did.

In the letter, R. Aboab counsels against disputing Modena. R. Aboab makes a simple argument in that there are sources that dispute the claim of gilgul. Thus, there have been others who don’t believe. How then can we reconcile those positions with R. Aboab’s and R. Zacuto’s idea that gilgul is a central tenet – it must be that only worthy people appreciate and therefore believe in gilgul. It would be pointless to criticize someone for not believing when it is not really their fault.

Basically, this is a great article with important new material but proper credit is not given. Furthermore, as Divlitski notes, and in light of the fact Benayahu clearly has not yet published all these letters, hopefully, with this letter being published in Ets Hayyim someone will finally publish all these letters.

Notes:

This post is the product of the combined efforts of myself and R. Eliezer Brodt.

[1] For some reason it seems E. Carlebach did not use Dor Echad, although she does use Benayahu’s prior articles, and thus was unaware of Benayahu’s discussion of this particular letter. See Carlebach, The Pursuit of Heresy, New York, 1990, p. 21, 284 nn.11-12. Although Benayahu rejects using the dates of R. Hagiz’s works to place Hagiz in Italy, Carlebach does just that. See Benayahu, Dor Echad, pp. 304 and Carlebach, id. Additionally, Carlebach does not mention the letter discussed above that explicitly establishes Hagiz in Italy.

[2] For some reason Divlitski says the letter was written in 1659 while Benayahu says the letter was written in 1657. Additionally, Divlitski says that he can figure out who the recipient of the letter is, although “coincidentally” Benayahu uses the same materials to come to the same conclusion.

[3] This is not the only time Divlitksi leaves out the authors name. He also uses Tishby’s edition of Tzitz Novel Tzvi, but doesn’t mention Tishby.

[4] Divlitski uses similar language when discussing how important the letters are as an untapped resource.

[5] It is worth noting that Modena and Aboab corresponded directly see Benayahu, “Yediyah al Hadfasat Seforim vehafatzasm b’Italia” in Sinai, 34 pp. 157-58, 186-87.

“A man enters synagogue on Yom Kippur with his dog and tells the gabbai this is a very smart dog, he can talk. “If he will talk for you,” says the man, “will you let him sit next to me?” The gabbai says “let’s hear him.” Man turns to dog and says what is on top of this building which keeps the rain out? the dog says ruf ruf. The guy says see he said it was a roof. But if you are not satisfied with that, I will have him answer another question. He says to the dog, who was the most famous baseball player of all time? Dog says ruf ruf. Man says see he said Babe Ruth. The gabbai throws man and dog out. Dog looks up at the man and says, “Should I have said Willie Mays?”

— Jewish Joke

I thought it may be instructive to examine what Judaism says about animals. In the course, I hope to highlight some lesser known bibliographical items. The Torah appears to place significant obligation on people vis-à-vis animals. For instance, we are commanded to remove an overburdened animal (Deut. 22:4), we are told to feed one’s animals prior to one eating themselves (TB, Berachot, 40a), and finally there is a general injunction against mistreating animals. It is from this final prohibition – tzar ba’alei hayyim – that we continue with the remainder of our discussion.

Although we are commanded to treat animals well, Jews are also not prohibited from eating animals. The combination of these two ideas were for some rishonim an understanding of how and why shehita is the obligatory process for eating meat. They explain that purpose of shehita is to minimize pain to the animal even when we do kill it.[1] They point to law of a smooth knife as well as cutting specifically on the neck as trying to minimize pain. The issue of animal pain, was raised on numerous occasions for some to argue that shehita should be prohibited. In the defense of shehita the idea that it is the least painful method of killing was usually marshaled. In at least one instance, at the turn of the 20th century, this defense “caused even non-Jews to only use Jewish shehita and the Society for [the prevention] of Cruelty to Animals in America attempted to obligate this in all places.”[2]

In America as well there was a question of the legitimacy of shehita as a humane method. A book was published, originally in Hebrew and subsequently to English, which bore the title Tub Taam, or Vindication of the Israelitisch Way of Killing Animals by R. Aaron Zev Friedman (downloadable here). According to a family legend, this book convinced Ulysses S. Grant to eat only kosher meat.[3]

While all the above is true, there appears to be an opposite view of animals, one which places less respect to the animal world. R. Moshe Isserles, in his commentary on Shulhan Arukh, states “Anything that is necessary for health, or for anything else there is no prohibition against inflicting pain on animals; therefore, it is permissible to pluck quills from live duck and there is no consideration of causing pain to the animal. But, it is best to avoid all this as it is heartless.”[4] Thus, according to Rama, whenever there is any need, there is no prohibition of causing pain. According to this understanding, one need not understand the commandment of shehita to have anything to do with minimizing pain, as there is no need to minimize pain as the meat will be used.[5]

The view of Rama was applied by R. Yaakov Reischer when he asked [in an undated responsum] whether it is permissible to use an animal to test the efficacy of a drug.[6] He responded that based upon this Rama, animal testing is permitted. He explained that the caveat of Rama, that “it is heartless” and therefore should be avoided, is inapplicable to this case; as in the case of animal testing, the animal may not feel pain immediately, and as a result, according to R. Reischer, poses less of an issue of tzar ba’alei hayyim.

R. Ezekiel Landau, in his Noda BeYehudah[7] similarly applies Rama to a different question. He was asked whether it is permissible for a Jew to hunt animals. R. Landau says based upon Rama, there is no issue of tzar ba’alei hayyim. While he counsels against this practice for other reasons[8] these reasons are not out of concern for animals. R. Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, in Haamek Davar, places Noah as the first to own pets. R. Berlin explains that the raven and dove were Noah’s own pets and not part of the animals he collected into the ark. R. Berlin alleges that the dove was actually trained similarly to a homing pigeon. (Haamek Davar, vol. 1, 8:7)

In discussing animals and Judaism there is a related discussion concerning the propriety of dog ownership and dogs in particular in Jewish thought. R. Jacob Emden rails against dog ownership.[9] He decries dog ownership solely for pleasure or as a companion and goes so far to claim that dog owners are suspect of engaging in bestiality.[10]

On the other hand, historically, the dog specifically, has actually been used as a positive icon. For instance, in the Hamburg Miscellany, there is a depiction of a wedding scene with a dog at the feet of the groom.[11] Similarly, the Washington Haggadah contains a depiction of a dog (see here).

The Sefer Hasidim claims that all animals can teach humans positive traits.[12] He singles out the dog for teaching loyalty, which is easily what the depiction in the Hamburg Miscellany could be depicting in the wedding scene – a scene which describes what is essentially a loyalty ceremony.

While the positive aspect of a dog can be found in some illustrations, the negative view of animals and specifically dogs can also be found in illustrations. In the Prague 1526 haggadah we find a depiction of a hare hunt being used for the mnemonic YaKNeHaZ (the order the blessing are recited when Pesach night falls on a Saturday night). The usage of the hare hunt is in German, the term for hare hunt or Jagen-has sounds like YakNeHaZ. In Augsburg, 1534 haggadah, Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi notes it not only shows a hare hunt, but the hare escaping.[13] He says the hare is representative of the Jewish people and the dogs their enemies and therefore, “it is plausible to conclude that hate two successive representation of the Jagen-has are not only an innovation in themselves, but together comprise an allegory of the persecution and salvation of the Jewish people.”[14] In this depiction the dogs are actually the enemies of the Jews conforming with the prior negative views of dogs.

Finally, in the apocryphal work Tobit, in many versions there is a positive mention of a dog. In some editions, however, the dog is missing. One scholar posits the removal was deliberate in that, according to him — and as we have seen above this is not universal — Jews (and other Eastern cultures) do not depict dogs positively.[15] Thus, the dog had to go. Again, this follows the negative view of dogs.

In conclusion, there appears to be two schools of thought regarding animals and specifically dogs. Some view them and animals positively and is borne out in practice, while there is another tradition inapposite.

Notes:
I wanted to thank Eliezer Brodt and Menachem Butler for their additional insights and sources which added significantly to this post.

[1] See Sefer haHinuch, commandment 451; see also Eshkoli, Tzaar Baalei Hayyim, [], 2002, 79-80 (collecting sources).
[2] See Greenwald, ha-Shohet ve-haShehita be-Safrut ha-Rabbunut (New York, 1955), p. 19.
[3] For the source and a description of this book in general see Yosef Goldman, Hebrew Printing in America (New York, 2006), 2:1092. See also, Shnayer Z. Leiman, “Montague Lawrence Marks: In a Jewish Bookstore,” Tradition 25:1 (Fall, 1989): 66, 69, nn.12-13.
For more on the German attempt to ban shehita and R. Y.Y. Weinberg’s response, see Hirsh Jakob Zimmels, The Echo of the Nazi Holocaust in Rabbinic Literature (New York, 1977), 181-193 and Marc B. Shapiro, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy (Littman Library, 1999), 117-129; and regarding the highly controversial nature of R. Weinberg’s responsum, Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog hesitated to allow it in print at all, see p. 192. Shapiro also cites a letter where it is suggested that “Herzog later agreed that publishing the responsum would not create difficulties” (ibid., n.86).

[4] Rama, Even haEzer, 5:14; see generally Eshkoli, supra n.1, chapter 12.
[5] R. Yosef Toemim, in his introduction to Pri Megadim discussing shehita cautions against applying rationales generally for commandments, and specifically for shehita. Pri Megadim, Peshiha Kollelet l’Hilchot Shehita.
[6] R. Yaakov Reischer, Shevut Ya’akov, vol. 3, no. 71.
[7] R. Ezekiel Landau, Noda b’Yehuda, Mahdurah Tinyana, Yoreh Deah, no. 10.
[8] He offers that Biblically, the only hunters were Esau and Nimrod thus hunting is not a “Jewish pastime.” Further, he argues that one is prohibited from putting himself in danger. He goes so far to claim that the simple reading of Esau’s statement “I am going to die” as an expression that Esau was aware that he was involved in a dangerous profession.

David Katz recently noted that R. Ezekiel Landau “laughingly applied” to R. Jacob Emden the Talmudic dictum (BT, Yoma, 30b) concerning mad dogs: “They bark and bark but no one hears!” David Katz, “A Case Study in the Formation of a Super-Rabbi: The Early Years of Rabbi Ezekiel Landau, 1713-1754” (University of Maryland, 2004), 17, 420-421.
[9] R. Jacob Emden, She’elat Ya’avetz, vol. 1 no. 17; Eshkoli, supra n.1, pp. 221-224; id. 225-28 (discussing cats).
[10] There is a related discussion about the Antisemitic use of the dog to depict Jews. See Ruth Mellinkoff, Antisemitic Hate Signs in Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts from Medieval Germany (Jerusalem, 1999), pp. 38-9; now, see generally, Kenneth Stow, Jewish Dogs: An Image and Its Interpreters (Stanford, California, 2006), 28-32 and passim. Additionally, it is worth noting that there is actually a Jewish explanation as to why non-Jews have called Jews dogs. See R. Y.Y. Stahl, ed., Sefer Kushiyot (Jerusalem, 2007), no. 128 p. 100 (finding scriptural basis for the dog epithet!).
[11] Bezalel Narkiss, Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts (Israel, 1984) plate 59 p. 185; this illumination also appears in Encyclopaedia Judaica (Jerusalem, 1967), vol. 16, opp. col. 616. Sperber notes other instances of dogs in Jewish items but attributes it to Christian ideology. See Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 4 pp. 84-5, n.12. But, as is shown above from the Sefer Hasidim, the use of a dog to display loyalty has Jewish roots as well.
[12] Margoliyot ed., no. 47, p. 106. See also, Sefer Hasidim (Sefer HaMaskil) p. 12 “at all times one should have in their home animals or birds, at the very least a rooster or duck. One should then feed the animal first to fulfill the obligation to feed animals prior to one eating themselves.” For a discussion regarding this Sefer Hasidim vis-a-vis the Sefer HaMaskil, see R. M.M. Honig, in “al Mahduroso haHadasha shel Sefer HaMaskil (Sefer Hasidim) l’R’ Moshe Bar Eliezer HaKohen,” Yerushashanu, vol. 1 (2007): 196-240.
[13] Both of these are available in their entirety from the JNUL site.
[14] Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History (Jewish Publication Society 1997), plate 15. For a fuller discussion of this imagery, see Elliott Horowitz, “Odd Couples: The Eagle and the Hare, the Lion and the Unicorn,” Jewish Studies Quarterly 11:3 (August 2004): 243-258, and idem., “The People of the Image,” The New Republic 223:13 (September 25, 2000): 41-49.
[15] Israel Abrahams, “Tobit’s Dog,” Jewish Quarterly Review (old series), I, 3 (1888/1889): 288.