The Etymology of “Onah”

The Etymology of “Onah”

by Mitchell First (MFirstAtty@aol.com)

I thought it would be useful if everyone would have a better understanding of how the root ענה, occurring at Exodus 21:10 in the form “onatah,” can refer to the sexual obligation. I will offer several possibilities.

First I must provide a brief overview of this widely occurring root. It is typically viewed as having four meanings as a verb: 1) respond, 2) sing, 3) afflict, and 4) occupy oneself with.

It is hard to unify all these meanings. But it is easy to see that perhaps the first and second meanings have a common origin.

As to the third meaning, the word ענו, a submissive, humble individual, probably derives from this meaning and the word עני, a poor individual, also probably derives from this meaning.

The fourth meaning is a rare one in Tanakh. It is only found in the book of Kohelet.

It is also possible that ענה has a “time-related” meaning in Tanakh. We will discuss this below.

—–

Exodus 21:10 reads: “If he marries another, he must not diminish her food, her clothing, or ‘onatah’ (=her onah).” The person being protected is the Israelite slave who was the first wife.

The Mishnah at Ketuvot 5:6 understands “onah” (without any discussion) as referring to the man’s sexual obligation to his wife,[1] and then proceeds to delineate the obligation for various occupations.

Our first question is whether we can fit this meaning of “onah” into any of the first four meanings above. Note that Rashi on our verse explains the word as “tashmish” but does not provide any explanation.

We could connect our word with the “response” meaning above and suggest that “onatah” means “a response to her request for intimacy.” But it is hard to imagine that such an important obligation would be phrased in such a vague way.[2]

Here are a few better approaches:

1. There is a word מעון and other words related to it that appear many times in Tanakh and mean “dwelling.” Presumably, their root would have been עון. If the root of our “onatah” (which has no vav) would be עון with its “dwelling” meaning, we can interpret the word “dwelling” as symbolizing a main activity that goes on in a dwelling, i.e., sexual relations.[3] Our verse would be referring to sexual relations but doing it euphemistically. As a parallel, in English the word “cohabit” typically now has a sexual meaning, even though the word originated with a “habitation” meaning.

Of course, we can alternatively interpret our verse to be stating that a man may not diminish the living quarters of his wife and that the verse has nothing to do with sexual relations. Rashbam and Cassuto are among the many who take this approach.[4] But obviously we would like to avoid this interpretation.

2. It has been argued that Ayin-Nun-Heh has a meaning related to “time” in Tanakh. We know that it has such a meaning in early Rabbinic Hebrew. See, e.g., Mishnah Peah 4:8: “onat ha-ma’aserot.”[5]

If there was a root Ayin-Nun-Heh (or Ayin-Nun-Tav) with a time-related meaning in the era of Tanakh, “onatah” could be referring to a husband’s obligation to provide relations to his spouse at certain time intervals. R. Saadiah Gaon and Ibn Ezra are among the many who follow this approach. Daat Mikra offers it as its second interpretation.

But this is still not a simple way of reading the verse. As Luzzatto observes: “It does not stand to reason that the Torah would designate a man’s relations with his wife by the term ‘set time,’[6] besides the fact that nowhere in the Torah is there any timetable for this matter.”[7]

There is an alternative way of obtaining the relations meaning based on the “time” meaning of “onah.” We can say that “onah” means “her time,” and in the case of two competing women, as is the case here, it means “her turn.”[8]

——

We still have to address the issue of whether Ayin-Nun-Heh or Ayin-Nun-Tav really did have a time-related meaning in Tanakh.

There are three arguments to support this.

First, the word עת means “time” many times in Tanakh. Many believe this derives from a root [9]ענת, but many disagree with this etymology.[10]

Second, עונן and מעונן refer to one who engages in divination. Many understand this word as deriving from Ayin-Nun-Heh with a “time” meaning. I.e., perhaps these individuals made predictions as to what is a good time to do things. But others interpret these words with a different etymology altogether. E.g., perhaps these individuals made predictions by looking at cloud formations. Many other possibilities have been suggested for the etymology of עונן and מעונן. But the time-related etymology is a real possibility.

– Third, the fact that our word appears in early Rabbinic Hebrew with a time-related meaning is some evidence that this meaning already existed in Biblical Hebrew.

3. A third approach observes that there are many instances in Tanakh where Ayin-Nun-Heh occurs in the piel construct in a context of a man forcing a woman to have intercourse. See, e.g., Gen. 34:2 (Dinah), and Deut. 21:14 (woman captured in war).[11] We are used to translating these piel verbs with an “afflict sorrow or pain” meaning, or perhaps a “humbled” meaning.12 But perhaps Ayin-Nun-Heh in the piel in all or some of these cases is better understood as “rape.”[13] If Ayin-Nun–Heh in the piel construct can mean “rape,” that same root in the kal construct can mean “consensual relations.” Then we could utilize this meaning for our word at Ex. 21:10.[14]

To complete our discussion, I must mention two other Tannaitic passages about “onah”: one in the Mekhilta, and the other: a baraita in the Talmud.

As I mentioned at the outset, the Mishnah at Ketuvot 5:6 assumes that the “onah” of our verse means “relations” and does not offer any alternative view or any derivation.

The Mekhilta in Mishpatim offers three different interpretations of “onah.” The first is “relations” (“derech eretz”). This view is brought in the name of R. Yoshiah. The prooftext he cites is Gen. 34:2 (regarding Dinah): “va-yishkav otah va-ye’aneha.” This citation is surprising because it is usually assumed that “va-ye’aneha” here has the “afflict” or ”humbled” meaning. (This citation fits loosely with our third approach.)

A second view (in the name of R. Yonatan) interprets “onah” to be a reference to giving clothing that is appropriate to the season. A third view (in the name of Rebbi) interprets “onah” as food (giving a strange prooftext, Deut. 8:3). This third view interprets a different word in verse 21:10, one from the root שׁאר, as referring to “relations.”

At Ketubot 47b, there is a baraita very similar to the Mekhilta (although with different Tannaim) that also gives the above three views. In the view of the tanna kamma, the verse cited for the “relations” meaning is a statement of Lavan at 31:50: “If you will ‘ta’aneh’ my daughters and/or take other wives besides my daughters…” Yet in this verse, our root clearly means “afflict” and does not mean “relations.”[15]

——

To sum up, if one wants to interpret “onah” as “relations,” one approach is to relate it to the word מעון and its meaning “dwelling.” “Dwelling” can symbolize a main activity that goes on in a dwelling. Alternatively, the approach that “onah” simply refers to “her time” (=her turn) sounds plausible as well. Finally, we have the suggestion that Ayin-Nun-Heh in the kal construct may refer to consensual relations.

 

[1] The Mishnah does not cite our verse but is implicitly referring to it. Admittedly there are other interpretations of “onah” among the Tannaitic Sages. I will discuss them at the end of this article.
[2] Nevertheless, S.D. Luzzatto is willing to adopt something like this approach. S. Mandelkern takes it seriously as well. The Brown-Driver-Briggs lexicon mentions it as a possibility. In more modern times, M.Z. Kaddari, Millon Ha-Ivrit Ha-Mikrait (2006), p. 815, adopts it without any discussion.

For more on the view of Luzzatto and on this entire topic, see the article by Marty Lockshin from Jan. 27, 2022 on thetorah.com: “Onah: A Husband’s Conjugal Duties?”

Lockshin points out that Targum Onkelos merely renders the Hebrew term with an Aramaic equivalent, so we cannot determine how it was understood in this translation. He also discusses the views of the other early Aramaic translations. He also mentions the view of the Septuagint. It has “homilian,” which literally means “company” or “conversation,” but which many scholars think is being used euphemistically here for “relations.”
[3] Daat Mikra adopts something like this as the first of its two interpretations. Luzzatto mentions some who take this approach, even though he disagrees with it.

The scholars who view there to have been a root Ayin-Vav-Nun (=to dwell) view the vav as being vocalized with a shuruk. See, e.g., Brown-Driver-Briggs, p. 732 and Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament (2000), vol. 11, p. 229. If the underlying meaning was “dwell,” then one can argue that our word should have been vocalized as “unatah.” Even if this is correct, probably most of us could live with the idea that there was an error in the vocalization of the vav by the post-Talmudic Masoretes.
[4] More recently, it is adopted in Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, vol. 11, p. 229. Prior to Rashbam, it was one of two interpretations offered by Menahem Ibn Saruq (10th cent.). It was also offered by Karaites.
[5] See also the baraita at Ketuvot 48a (view of the tanna R. Eliezer b. Yaakov) and the Mekhilta, Mishpatim (view of the tanna R. Yonatan). Other aspects of these passages are discussed at the end of this article.
[6] For further elaboration on this point, see Lockshin’s article. The passage itself is ambiguous as to what Luzzatto’s reasoning was.
[7] Translation from D. Klein’s edition.
[8] This view is mentioned in the Anchor Bible in the name of Arnold Ehrlich (d. 1919). It is one of many views mentioned in the long and very speculative discussion there.
[9] See Ernest Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language for Readers of English (1987) p. 489-90. See also Ibn Ezra to Ex. 21:10 and to Ecc. 9:11. See also the similar words at the end of Ezra 4:10, 4:11, and 4:17.
[10] See Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, vol. 11, p. 229 and p. 437.
[11] The additional occasions are: Deut. 22:24 and 22:29, Judges 19:24 and 20:5, 2 Sam. 13: 12,14,22, and 32, Ezekiel 22:11, and Lam. 5:11.
[12] When you “humble” someone, you make them submit to your authority. This is a different meaning than “afflicting” them, even though the two meanings are related. The 1917 Jewish Publication Society of America translation uses “humbled” often in these sexual contexts. See also their translation of God’s statement to Pharaoh at Ex. 10:3: “How long wilt thou refuse to humble thyself (לענת) before Me?.”
[13] What if we can argue compellingly that the piel of Ayin-Nun-Heh does not mean “rape” in at least one of these cases? For example, at Gen. 34:2, we have “va-yishkav otah va-ye’aneha.” Since we are already told “va-yishkav otah,”perhaps the next word has the “afflict” or “humble” meaning. Of course, this is not a strong question. Moreover, even if we can argue compellingly that, in one or more of the verses with the piel construct, ענה does not mean “rape,” that does not mean that it cannot mean “rape” in some of the others.
[14] I have seen this suggestion made by Ariella Deem. See her “The Goddess Anath and Some Biblical Hebrew Cruces,” Journal of Semitic Studies 23 (1978), pp. 25-30. This suggestion was probably made by others prior to this. Deem like this interpretation because she uses it to give a new meaning to the name of the ancient goddess “Anat” (a “sexual love” meaning). Deem also uses this idea to explain the third “anot” at Ex. 32:18. She suggests: “the sound of an orgy.”
[15] One can claim that the meaning is “afflict my daughters by withholding relations,” but this would not be a proper prooftext that the root Ayin-Nun-Heh meant “relations.”




Psalms 117:1-2: Why Are the Goyim Praising God?

Psalms 117:1-2: Why Are the Goyim Praising God?[1]

By Mitchell First
MFirstAtty@aol.com

 

In Hallel, has only two verses:

1) Praise Hashem all goyim; Laud him all the umim.

2) For his ḥesed is great?[2] עלינו and the emet of Hashem is forever, Halleluyah.

Why are the nations of the world to be praising God? Because his ḥesed is great on the Israelites? Does this make sense? I first read about this interpretive issue in Rabbi Hayyim Angel’s excellent article in Through an Opaque Lens (2006). I am writing this article to collect more sources and expand the discussion. I will also offer a different solution than the various solutions proposed by Rabbi Angel.

Admittedly it is possible to read the two verses as independent of one another. But in the simplest reading they are connected by that explanatory word כי (=for) and the author is asking the nations of his time to praise God because of the extravagant ḥesed that God has provided to the nation of Israel.

A Sage in the Talmud (Pes. 118b) realizes this difficulty and reads the verse as follows: “Praise Hashem all nations”- for the great acts and wonders which God does for the nations; how much more so should we praise Him, for his chesed is great on us…” In other words, this Sage suggests that the second part of the verse refers to Israelites praising God, even though that is not mentioned in the verse.?[3]

How do our commentaries deal with our issue?

Rashi writes that we should reinterpret the word כי so that it instead means “even though.” This drastically changes the meaning of the verse. R. Angel explains: “Rashi intimates that the nations are generally unhappy about God’s distinctive relationship with Israel. The Psalmist…calls to the nations to rise above their initial antagonism.”

It is true that כי has multiple meanings and “even though” is one of them. But this is still far from a plain sense reading of the verse.

Rashbam has an interesting approach to our verse (found in his comm. to Deut. 32:43). The nations are being told to believe in and praise God. If they do, he will give them great ḥesed just like he gave to Israel. This is clever but it does not read well into the verse.

Radak solves the difficulty a different way. The verse is talking about the messianic era. He cites Tzefaniah 3:9: “Then I will turn to the peoples…that they may all call the name of Hashem to worship Him with one shoulder.”?[4] Radak adds that the nations did not believe that God could liberate the Israelites from being subjugated. On seeing that he did, they will praise him.

Malbim suggests a specific context for the psalm. In the late 8th century BCE Sancheriv exiled the Israelites and exiled non-Israelites with them. Eventually, God will return the Israelites together with these non-Israelites. Since God’s rescue of the Israelites will benefit these non-Israelites, they will praise him. There are of course no clues to any of this in these two verses.

The Daat Mikra commentary (composed by Amos Chacham) takes the approach that when Israel is downtrodden, the nations mock the God of Israel. See, e.g., Ps. 115:2: “Why should the nations say now: ‘Where is their God?’.” Conversely, when Israel is succeeding, the nations are impressed and praise him. It cites Ezekiel 36:23: “I will sanctify my great name, which has been profaned among the nations, and which you have profaned among them. And the nations will know that I am Hashem… when I shall be sanctified in you before their eyes.” Thus, Daat MIkra interprets the background to Psalms 117:1-2 to be that the nations have seen that God saved Israel.

Another approach is to deny the legitimacy of the question. It seems that there are many other verses in the book of Psalms where the nations of the world are called upon to praise God for saving Israel. This approach is taken by R. Feivel Meltzer in his Pnei Sefer Tehillim (1982), p. 332.?[5]

For example, at Ps. 98: 2-4, we have: “Hashem has made His salvation known and revealed His righteousness to the nations. He has remembered His love and his faithfulness to Israel. All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God. Shout for joy to Hashem all the earth…”

Also, at Ps. 100:1-3: “Make a joyful sound to Hashem, all the lands.  Serve Hashem with gladness. Come before His presence with singing.  Know that Hashem is God: it is He that made us, we are His,?[6] we are His people, and the sheep of His pasture.”

Finally, there is the approach that the word aleinu in the phrase: “For his ḥesed is great aleinu“ is broad enough to include the ḥesed performed for non-Israelites as well. In the time of the Rishonim, R. Moshe Ibn Gikatilah took this approach.?[7] In more modern times, among those who took this approach are Rav S.R. Hirsch and the Iyun Tefillah commentary in the Siddur Otzar Ha-Tefillot.?[8]

This is a simple way to read the phrase, but is this approach a sensible approach? Here is the weakness with it. If ḥesed is being performed for Israelites and non-Israelites- for example, God provides rain– why would the goyim praise the God of Israel? If the goyim are living in proximity to the Temple, we could understand that they would praise the God of Israel. But if the goyim are living anywhere else, it is hard to imagine that they would think that the God that they are supposed to praise is the God of Israel.?[9] It seems evident that it is only ḥesed performed for Israelites that will trigger the goyim to praise the God of Israel.

I would like to offer a different approach, one that is not mentioned by Rabbi Angel.?[10]

I know from my own extensive writings on the acrostics in the book of Psalms that the fifth book (chaps. 107-150) dates to the early Second Temple period. (Probably the fourth book does too.) See my Esther Unmasked (2015), pp. 207-230.?[11] With this background, we can suggest that the author of chapter 117 viewed the Jewish worship in the Temple as beneficial to all the nations. That is why he may be asking the nations to praise God for his goodness to the people Israel. God let the people of Israel rebuild their Temple.

Something like this approach is mentioned in the Soncino: “If, as the modern commentators hold, it is of post-exilic date, it proves that universalism was strong in the heart of the Jews when they were struggling to rebuild a national life, and that this task was undertaken in no chauvinist spirit.” I am sure that others prior to the Soncino suggested something like this as well.

I have also thought of a way that could help us decide whether “For his ḥesed is great aleinu“ includes ḥesed to non-Israelites and I have not seen the following argument elsewhere.

We can look at the rest of the verse: “and the emet of Hashem is forever…” “Emet” has two possible meanings here: “truth” or “trustworthiness.” Many give it a truth-related meaning here.?[12] But I think that it is more likely that it means “trustworthiness.” Let us look at Psalm 100. Psalm 100 ends: “Ki tov Hashem le-olam ḥasdo ve-ad dor va-dor emunato.” This verse is somewhat similar to 117:2, just that it has the word emunato, instead of emet. This suggests that “trustworthiness” is the meaning of the emet of 117:2.?[13] A reference to God’s trustworthiness seems to me to be more suggestive of keeping promises to Israelites than it is of keeping promises to both Israelites and non-Israelites.

——

I will close with the fascinating (and obviously homiletical) interpretation of R. Isaac of Volozhin (d. 1849). I will present it the way it is summarized in the ArtScroll Tehillim commentary, in the comments to Psalms 117:2: “Once, a Russian prince asked Rav Yitzchak (Reb Itzaleh) of Volozhin to explain why non-Jews instead of Jews, are expected to praise God for his kindness to Israel. Rav Yitzchak replied without hesitation: ’You princes plan countless anti-Semitic schemes with which to destroy us, but our Merciful God always manages to foil your plots. Your secret councils are so well guarded that we Jews don’t even realize all the ways in which you intended to harm us, nor how God has saved us. Only you gentiles see clearly how God’s kindness to us was overwhelming?[14]; therefore only you can praise him adequately!’ ”?[15]

[1] I would like to thank Sam Borodach for reviewing the draft of this article.

[2] The implication of gavar here is that the esed is so great that it is beyond measure. We see this from Psalm 103:11. See the Soncino and Daat Mikra there. I have seen the suggestion that because God’s esed to Israel has been so great and beyond measure, the Psalmist believes that Israel cannot adequately discharge its responsibility to praise God by itself. He therefore invites the rest of the world to praise God as well.

[3] See also Midrash Tehillim 117:2 which splits our two verses into three different voices.

[4] The last two words are a metaphor for “together;” i.e., joined by a single yoke.

[5] He cites the earlier scholar Yechezkel Kaufmann who takes this approach and who laughs at those who think that 117:1-2 is an anomaly.

[6] I am translating according to the kri, not the ketiv.

[7] He is cited in Ibn Ezra. He writes that God’s esed to all is that he keeps us alive and sustains us.

[8] P. 447. I am sure that others took this approach in modern times as well. This approach to verses 117:1-2 is also perhaps implicit at Midrash Tehillim 117:1 in the statement by R. Tanchum about rainfall: “rainfall brings joy to the entire world.” See Rabbi Angel’s article.

[9] A few centuries later, there were Gentiles known as “Godfearers” who lived close and far and who feared and praised the God of Israel. But there is little evidence that the book of Psalms is dated later than the Persian period and there is no evidence for Gentile “Godfearers” as early as the Persian period unless one gives this meaning to the “yirei Hashem” mentioned at Psalms 115:11, 118:4, and 135:19.

The Soncino commentary to 115:11 observes that many modern expositors understand the “yirei Hashem” references to be to “pious Gentiles who come to worship in the Temple.” But the Daat Mikra commentary mentions several possible interpretations: 1) Israelites who took on extra stringencies, 2) another term for all Israelites, 3) converts, and 4) asidei umot ha-olam. Another suggestion is that ”yirei Hashem” are Israelites who serve God out of fear, in contrast to “Beit Aharon,” Israelites who serve God out of love. See The Complete ArtScroll Siddur, p. 635 (citing Maharal). I thank Michael Alweis for pointing out the interpretive issue of “yirei Hashem” to me.

[10] Of course, his article was limited to responses by traditional Orthodox sources.

[11] The title of the article I am referring to here is: “The Pe/Ayin Order In Ancient Israel and Its Implications for the Book of Tehillim.”Earlier than this, I had similar shorter articles in Biblical Archaeology Review (July-Aug. 2012) and in Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 38 (2014). Basically I concluded that the acrostics in the first book of Psalms (chapters 1-41) were composed with the older pe preceding ayin order and that the ayin preceding pe order (reflected in the acrostics of the fifth book) did not begin to be used in ancient Israel until the post-exilic period. (The acrostics in the book of Psalms are only found in the first and fifth books.) See in particular the Daat Mikra commentary to Psalms 34:18, n. 9. (Psalms 34:16-18 makes much better sense assuming an original pe preceding ayin order.)

Although Bava Batra 14b attributes the book of Psalms to David and others who lived earlier than him, Shir Ha-Shirim Rabbah 4:4 preserves the views of both Rav and R. Yochanan that Ezra was one of the ten figures involved in the composition of Psalms. A similar passage is found at Kohelet Rabbah 7:19. Also, the scholar Avi Hurvitz has shown that the Hebrew of the fourth and fifth books of Psalms is later than that of the earlier books. (Note that the word Halleluyah is only found in the fourth and fifth books.) In modern times, Malbim (intro. to Psalms) and Daat Mikra (intro. to Psalms, pp. 13 and 47) are willing to accept that parts of Psalms date to the early Second Temple period. The commentary of Rashbam on most of Psalms (discovered in the 1990’s in a library in Russia, but not yet fully published) takes this position as well. (For the passages, see the 1997 article by I. Ta-Shema in Tarbitz 66, p. 418. When Ta-Shema wrote his article, the identity of the author of this commentary was not yet known.) It bears emphasizing that at Psalms 126:1 we have the phrase “shivat Tziyon” and at 137:1 we have the phrase “al naharot Bavel sham bakhinu.” See also R. Hayyim Angel, Vision from the Prophet and Counsel from the Elders (2013), pp. 210-18.

[12] See, e.g., the 1917 Jewish Publication Society of America translation (included at the top in the Soncino): “And the truth of the Lord endureth forever.”

[13] At Psalms 146:6, we have ha-shomer emet le-olam. Here too emet seems to have a trust-related meaning. See Daat Mikra.

[14]  In their translation in this work, ArtScroll translates the ki gavar phrase as “For His kindness to us was overwhelming.” That is why this phrase is used here. But see n. 2 above.

[15] The commentary is getting this story from iddushei HaGriz HaLevi on the Torah, Yitro 18:10. See similarly the Iyun Tefillah commentary in the Siddur Otzar Ha-Tefillot, p. 447.

—–

Is there any possibility that our two-verse chapter is only the remnant of a larger lost psalm? Daat Mikra rejects this. It points out that that there are three psalms that only have three verses: 131, 133 and 134. It admits that there are some Masoretic texts which join chapter 117 with either 116 or 118. But the texts that are generally more reliable (including the Aleppo Codex) have 117 as a separate chapter. In the Septuagint, it is also a separate chapter. Also, there is a Halleluyah at the end of 116 and another one at the end of 117. These words always indicate either a beginning or end of a chapter. Daat Mikra nevertheless concludes that Psalm 117 serves as an introduction to Psalm 118. This may be another way to determine the meaning of the aleinu of 117:2. But I will leave this potential direction to others.




The Meaning of Ayelet Ha-Shaḥar at Tehillim 22:1

The Meaning of Ayelet Ha-Shaḥar at Tehillim 22:1

By Mitchell First
MFirstAtty@aol.com

The phrase השׁחר אילת is found at Tehillim 22:1. The entire verse reads: “la-menatzeaḥ al ayelet ha-shaḥar mizmor le-David.” What is the meaning of השׁחר אילת ? This is the only time this phrase appears in Tanakh. Its meaning is so unclear that Radak offers five interpretations!

Literally, השׁחר אילת means: “doe of the dawn.” A male deer would be an ayal. An ayalah is a female deer (=a doe).[1] Ayelet is the construct state of ayalah. It means “ayalah of the…”

There are two times in Tanakh where the root איל has the meaning “strength.” These are at Tehillim 22:20: eyaluti, and 88:5: eyal.[2] Accordingly, some suggest that that the meaning of the phrase in our verse is “strength of the morning,” i.e., “sunrise.”3 But the איל words in those verses lack a dagesh in the yod. Our ayelet has a dagesh in the yod. With the dagesh, the meaning in Tanakh is always the “deer/doe” meaning.[4]

An amora in the Jerusalem Talmud (Berakhot 1:1 and Yoma 3:2) explains ayelet ha-shaḥar by taking the position that the light of morning first appears like two horns on the horizon and then illuminates the entire horizon. He probably means that there is a similarity to the antlers of a deer which branch out in different directions. In this interpretation, the verse is referring to the morning light.[5] But the word used in Tehillim 22:1 is ayelet, referring to a female deer, and 99% of the time, these have no antlers![6] (Of course, a response could be that the verse is speaking about male deer and for some poetic reason chose to use the female form.[7])

The above amora also mentions an alternative view that ayelet means כוכבתא .כוכבתא literally means “star,” but is commonly translated here as a reference to the planet Venus. Could ayelet have meant “star” at Tehillim 22:1?[8] This is very unlikely because nowhere else in Tanakh do ayal, ayalah, ayelet or other forms of איל have such a meaning.[9]

Many interpret ayelet ha-shaḥar as a musical instrument. Note for example that Tehillim chapter twelve begins as follows: la-menatzeaḥ al ha-sheminit mizmor le-David. Most likely, ha-sheminit is a musical instrument, one of eight strings. The format of our verse, 22:1, perfectly parallels the format of verse 12:1. But try as I might, I cannot imagine a musical instrument with a name like “doe of the dawn.”[10]

Rashi and Radak mention a view that the doe symbolizes Bnei Yisrael who seek the redemption symbolized by the word shaḥar.[11]

The key to solving our problem is the introductory sentence of psalm 56: la-menatzeaḥ al yonat eilem reḥokim. There are several possible interpretations of the words yonat eilem reḥokim, but most likely the reference is to a dove that is far away and the only issue is the meaning of eilem (אלם).[12] A “dove that is far away” cannot possibly be a reference to a musical instrument. The commentary in the Soncino edition writes here that it “is doubtless the title of a song to whose melody the Psalm was sung.”

This must be the approach we should take to verse 22:1. The introductory sentence is pointing to a well-known song called ayelet ha-shaḥar and telling the conductor to use the tune of this song. This approach is taken in the Encyclopaedia Judaica (13:1321)[13] and in the commentary on our verse in the Soncino edition: “In all probability, the name of a melody to the accompaniment of which the Psalm was to be rendered.”[14] Among our Rishonim, Ibn Ezra takes this approach as well on both verses, 22:1[15] and 56:1.

Although this “tune instruction” approach does not fit the word על perfectly, we should be able to live with it. The entry in the Encyclopaedia Judaica takes the position that al ayelet ha-shaḥar may have been the name of the song, but this is unlikely. It is too coincidental that the song at 56:1 would begin with al as well. Rather,על is a common word used in those first line instructions in the book of Tehillim. Sometimes it is an instruction regarding the specific musical instrument to be used and other times, like here, it can be an instruction with regard to the tune. (For examples of other times where the introductory verse likely refer to a tune, see the introductory verses to chapters 45, 57-59, 60, 69,75, and 80, and the commentary in the Soncino edition on each.)

——

Here are the five approaches that Radak had mentioned: 1) the name of a musical instrument, 2) strength of the morning, implying that the psalm was said at sunrise, 3) the name of a morning star, 4) an allusion to David fleeing from Saul, and 5) a way of referring to the Israelites. He preferred the last approach.

As to Rashi, here is what he offers: 1) the name of a musical instrument, 2) a way of referring to the Israelites, 3) the Sages’ homiletical approach that it refers to Esther (see Yoma 29a) and 4) strength, citing Menachem Ibn Saruk.[16]

Uriel Simon[17] points out that Ibn Ezra wrote two poems based on the theme that Israel is an ayelet. But as a commentator, he does not even mention this view in his standard commentary, since it is not at all a plain sense approach.[18]

Finally, it is interesting to offer a contemporary parallel to our interpretation of ayelet ha-shaḥar as an instruction regarding the tune of the psalm by referencing a well-known song. Nowadays we might say: “To the tune of Mary Had a Little Lamb.” (I thank Dr. Richard Gertler for this suggestion.)

[1] I am here reminded of the phrase “Doe a deer, a female deer” that I heard in the film The Sound of Music when I was a little child. That phrase finally came in handy!

[2] The Targum gives ayelet the strength meaning at 22:1, translating it as תקוף.

[3] This is the position taken by R. Saadiah Gaon. See Uriel Simon, Four Approaches to the Book of Psalms (1991), p. 51. It is referred to at the beginning of Ibn Ezra, although Ibn Ezra does not mention R. Saadiah by name.

[4] At Shir Ha-Shirim 2:7 and 3:5, אילות has the “deer/doe meaning” even without the dagesh.

[5] These statements in the Jerusalem Talmud are best understood in light of a statement at Yoma 29a.

[6] Female deer only have antlers when they have excess testosterone. This is very rare. Rashi (Yoma 29a) points out that ein karnayim le-nekeivah.

[7] In a different context, it is interesting to note the poetic license taken by the Israel Postal Company with their logo. For decades they have used a deer with antlers, intending an allusion to Gen. 49:21 (a verse that describes the delivery of imrei shefer.) But this verse refers to an ayalah. For further discussion, see my Links to Our Legacy (2021), pp. 205-208. (In recent years, their logo has been modified. Unless you knew, you cannot tell that a deer or any animal was intended originally.)

[8] Malbim is one who had adopted this interpretation.

[9] But “morning star” is a common understanding of the phrase ayelet ha-shaḥar in modern Hebrew.

[10] My son Shaya jokingly suggested that it could be a musical instrument that looked like a doe and was used to wake people in the morning! (My son’s wife is named Ayelet. It was his engagement to her in 2019 that inspired me to do this research.)

[11] See further Shir Ha-Shirim 6:10.

[12] As to eilem, perhaps it means “silent” or is a reference to a tree. Accordingly, the Encyclopaedia Judaica entry suggests “speechless dove far-off” and “dove of the far-off terebrinths.”

[13] This entry was authored by Nahum Sarna.

[14] Similarly, Robert Alter, The Book of Psalms (2007), p. 71, writes that the reference is to “a musical instrument of some sort, or alternately, to a melody.” Hebrew & Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, eds. L. Koehler and W. Baumgartner (1995, revised edition), p. 40, has: “beginning of a song?” Finally, Daat Mikra follows the “tune instruction” interpretation in its main commentary (but suggests that the song is about the morning star) and then offers many other suggestions in the footnote.

[15] He thinks that the allusion is to a love song, since that word ayelet is used in the expression ayelet ahavim at Mishlei 5:19.

[16] Based on the manuscript evidence provided at Alhatorah.org, most likely the last was not in the original comment of Rashi and was added by others later.

[17] Four Approaches to the Book of Psalms, p. 240.

[18] But Simon points out that he does mention and reject it in an earlier recension of his commentary on Tehillim.




The Meaning of the Word Hitpallel (התפלל)

The
Meaning of the Word Hitpallel (
התפלל)
By
Mitchell First[1]

It is clear from the many places that it
appears in Tanakh that התפלל connotes praying. But what was the
original meaning of this word? I was always taught that it meant something like
“judge yourself.” Indeed, the standard ArtScroll Siddur (Siddur Kol Yaakov) includes the following in its introductory
pages: “The Hebrew verb for praying is מתפלל;
it is a reflexive word, meaning that the subject acts upon himself. Prayer is a
process of self-evaluation, self-judgment…”[2]
More recently, when I searched Jewish
sites on the internet for the definition that was offered for hitpallel and mitpallel, I invariably
came up with a definition similar to the above. Long ago, Rabbi S. R. Hirsch
(d. 1888) and R. Aryeh Leib Gordon (d. 1912) also gave definitions that focused
on prayer as primarily an action of the self.[3]
In this post, I would like to share a different
interpretation offered by some modern scholars, one based on a simple insight
into Hebrew grammar. This new and compelling interpretation has unfortunately
not yet made its way into mainstream Orthodox writings and thought. Nor has it
been given proper attention in academic circles. For example, it did not make
its way into the widely consulted lexicon of Ludwig Koehler and Walter
Baumgartner.[4] By sharing this new interpretation of התפלל,
we can ensure that at least the next generation will  understand the origin of this critical word.
                                                            
——
There
are two issues involved in parsing this word: 1) what is the meaning of the
root פלל? and 2) what is the import of the hitpael stem, one that typically implies
doing something to yourself?
With
regard to the root פלל, its meaning is
admittedly difficult to understand. Scholars have pointed out that the other
Semitic languages shed little light on its meaning.[5]
If
we look in Tanakh, the verb פלל is found 4 times:[6]
1)      It
seems to have a meaning like “think” or “assess” at Genesis 48:11: re’oh fanekha lo filalti…(=I did not
think/assess that I would see your face).[7]
2)      It
seems to have a meaning like “intervene” at Psalms 106:30: va-ya’amod Pinḥas va-yefalel, va-teatzar ha-magefah (=Pinchas
stood up and intervened and the plague was stopped).[8]
3)      It
seems to have a meaning like “judge” at I Sam. 2:25: im yeḥeta ish le-ish u-filelo elokim…(If a man sins against another
man, God will judge him…).[9]
4)      It
also appears at Ezekiel 16:52:  את שאי כלמתך אשר פללת לאחותך גם (= You also should bear your own shame that you pilalt to your sisters). The sense here is difficult, but it is
usually translated as implying some form of judging.                                                                                     
    
What
I would like to focus on in this post, however, is the import of the hitpael stem in the word התפלל. 
Most students of Hebrew grammar are taught early on that the hitpael functions as a “reflexive” stem,
i.e., that the actor is doing some action on himself. But the truth is more
complicated.
One
source I saw counted 984 instances of the hitpael
in Tanakh.[10] It is true that a
large percentage of the time, perhaps even a majority of the time, the hitpael in Tanakh is a “reflexive” stem.[11] Some examples:
●       “station
oneself”; the verb יצב is in the hitpael 48 times in Tanakh (e.g., hityatzev)
●       “strengthen
oneself”; the verb חזק is in the hitpael 27 times in Tanakh (e.g., hitḥazek)
●       “sanctify
oneself”; the verb קדש is in the hitpael 24 times in Tanakh (e.g., hitkadesh)
●       “cleanse
oneself”; the verb טהר is in the hitpael 20 times in Tanakh  (e.g., hitaher)
        But it is also clear that the hitpael transforms meanings in other
ways as well. For example: 
●       At
Genesis 42:1 (lamah titrau), the form
of titrau is hitpael but the meaning is likely: “Why are you looking at one
another?”   This is called the
“reciprocal” meaning of hitpael.
Another example of this reciprocal meaning is found at II Chronicles 24:25 with
the word hitkashru; its meaning is
“conspired with one another.”
●       The
root הלך appears in the hitpael 46 times in Tanakh,
e.g., hithalekh. The meaning is not
“to walk oneself,” but “to walk continually or repeatedly.” This is called the
“durative” meaning of the hitpael.
There are many more durative hitpaels
in Tanakh.[12]
Now
let us look at a different word that is in the hitpael form in Tanakh: התחנן. The root here is חנן which means “to be gracious” or “to show favor.”  חנן
appears in the hitpael form many
times in Tanakh (התחנן, אתחנן, etc.). At I Kings 8:33 we even have a hitpael of פלל
and a hitpael of חנן adjacent to one another: 
והתחננו והתפללו.  If we are constrained to view התפלל as doing something to yourself, then what
would be the meaning of התחנן?  To show favor to yourself? This
interpretation makes no sense in any of the contexts that the hitpael of חנן
is used in Tanakh.
Rather,
as recognized by modern scholars, the root חנן
is an example where the hitpael  has a slightly different meaning: to make
yourself the object of another’s action.
(This variant of hitpael has been
called “voluntary passive” or “indirect reflexive.”) Every time the root חנן is used in the hitpael, the actor is asking another
to show favor to him. As an example, one can look at the beginning of parshat va-et-ḥanan. Verse 3:23 states
that Moshe was אתחנן to God.   אתחנן
does not mean that “Moshe showed graciousness to himself.” Rather, he was
trying to make himself the object of God’s
graciousness.
Let
us now return to our issue: the meaning of התפלל.
Most likely, the hitpael form in the
case of התפלל is doing the same
thing as the hitpael form in the case
of התחנן: it is turning the word into a voluntary
passive/indirect reflexive.[13]  Hence,
the meaning of התפלל is to make oneself the object of God’s פלל (assessment, intervention, or judging). This is a much
simpler understanding of התפלל than the ones that
look for a reflexive action on the petitioner’s part. Once one is presented
with this approach and how it perfectly parallels the hitpael’s role in התחנן,
it is very hard to disagree.[14]
  
Some
Additional Comments
1.      It
is interesting to mention some of the other creative explanations for התפלל that had previously been proposed (while
our very reasonable interpretation was overlooked!):
a.       The
root is related to a root found in Arabic, falla,
which means something like “break,” and reflected an ancient practice of
self-mutilation in connection with prayer.[15] Such a rite is referred to at 1
Kings 18:28 in connection with the cult of Baal (“and they cut themselves [=va-yitgodedu] in accordance with their
manner with swords and lances, until the blood gushed out upon them”).[16]
b.      התפלל  is derived from the root נפל (fall) and reflected the ancient practice of prostrating
oneself during prayer.[17]
c.       התפלל  did not originate based on a three-letter
root, but was a later development derived from a primary noun תפלה. In this approach, one could argue that התפלל  is not even a  hitpael.
(This approach just begs the question of where the word  תפלה
would have arisen. Most scholars reject this approach because תפלה does not look like a primary noun. Rather, it looks like a noun
that would have arisen based on a verb such as פלל
or פלה.) 
2.
There are other examples in Tanakh of
words that have the form of hitpael
but are either voluntary passives (like  התפללand התחנן)
or even true passives, as the role of the hitpael
expanded over time.[18] Some examples:[19]
a.       Gen
37:35: va-yakumu khol banav ve-khol
benotav le-naḥamo, va-yemaen le-hitnaḥem
…(The
meaning of the last two words seems to be that Jacob refused to let himself be
comforted by others or refused to be comforted; the meaning does not seem to be
that he refused to comfort himself.)
b.      Lev.
13:33: ve-hitgalaḥ (The
meaning seems to be “let himself be shaved by others.”)
c.       Numb.
23:9: u-va-goyim lo yitḥashav
d.      Deut.
28:68:  vehitmakartem sham
le-oyvekha la-avadim ve-li-shefaḥot…
(It is unlikely that the meaning is
that the individuals will be selling themselves.)
e.       Psalms
92:10: yitpardu kol poalei
aven 
(The evildoers are not
scattering themselves but are being scattered.)
f.       Is.
30:29: ke-leil hitkadesh ḥag…(The holiday is not sanctifying
itself.)
g.      Prov.
31:30:  ishah yirat Hashem hi tithalal
h.      Jonah
3:8: ve-yitkasu sakim ha-adam ve-ha-behemah… (Animals
cannot dress themselves!)
i.       
II Kings 8:29 (and similarly II Kings
9:15, and II Ch. 22:6): va-yashav Yoram
ha-melekh
le-hitrape ve-Yizre’el… (The
meaning may be that king Yoram went to Jezreel to let himself be healed by
others or to be healed.)
              
3.  As we see from this post, understanding the
precise role of the hitpael is
important to us as Jews who engage in prayer. Readers may be surprised to learn
that understanding the precise role of the hitpael
can be very important to those of other religions as well. A passage at Gen.
22:18 describes the relationship of the nations of the world with the seed of
Abraham:
.והתברכו בזרעך כל גויי הארץ 
(The phrase is found
again at Gen. 26:4.) Whether this phrase teaches that the nations of the world
will utter blessings using the name
of the seed of Abraham or be blessed
through the seed of Abraham depends on the precise meaning of the hitpael here. Much ink has been spilled
by Christian theologians on the meaning of hitpael
in this phrase.[20]
                                                                ——
Whoever suspected that grammar
could be so interesting and profound!
         
             !ונתחזק  חזק חזק
(Does the last word
mean “let us strengthen ourselves,” “let us continually be strengthened,” or
“let us be strengthened”?   I will leave
it to you to decide!)
Notes:
[1] I would like to
thank my son Rabbi Shaya First for reviewing and improving the draft.
[2]  P. xiii.
[3]   The edition of Rav Hirsch’s Pentateuch
commentary translated by Isaac Levy includes the following (at Gen. 20:7): התפלל means: To take the element of God’s truth,
make it penetrate all phases and conditions of our being and our life, and
thereby gain for ourselves the harmonious even tenor of our whole existence in
God….  [התפלל
is] working on our inner self to bring it on the heights of recognition of the
Truth and to resolutions for serving God…Prior to this, the commentary had pointed
out that the root פלל  means “to judge” and that a judge brings
“justice and right, the Divine Truth of matters into the matter….”
R.
Aryeh Leib Gordon explained that the word for prayer is in the hitpael form because prayer is an
activity of change on the part of the petitioner, as he gives his heart and
thoughts to his Creator; the petitioner’s raising himself to a higher level is
what causes God to answer him and better his situation. See the introduction to Siddur Otzar Ha-Tefillot (1914), vol. 1,
p. 20. The Encylcopaedia Judaica is
another notable source that uses the term “self-scrutiny” when it defines the
Biblical conception of prayer. See 13:978-79. It would be interesting to
research who first suggested the self-judge/self-scrutiny definition of prayer.
I have not done so. I will point out that in the early 13th century
Radak viewed God as the one doing the judging in the word התפלל. See his Sefer
Ha-Shorashim
, root פלל.
[4] The Hebrew
and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament
(1994). The authors do cite the
article by E.A. Speiser (cited in the next note) that advocates the
interpretation. But they cite the article for other purposes only. The
interpretation of התפלל that Speiser
advocates and that I will be describing is nowhere mentioned.
[5]  For example, E.A. Speiser writes that
“[o]utside Hebrew, the stem pll is at
best rare and ambiguous.” See his “The Stem PLL
in Hebrew,” Journal of Biblical
Literature
82 (1963), pp. 301-06, 301. He mentions a few references in
Akkadian that shed very little light. There is a verb in Akkadian, palālu, that has the meaning: “guard,
keep under surveillance.” See the  פללarticle in Theological
Dictionary of the Old Testament
, vol. 11, p. 568 (2001), and
Koehler-Baumgartner, entry פלל, p. 933. This perhaps
supports the “assess” and “think” meanings of the Hebrew פלל.
[6]  Various forms of a related noun, פלילים, פללים, פלילי and פליליה, appear 6 times. The meanings at Deut. 32:31 (ve-oyveinu pelilim), Job 31:11 (avon pelilim), and Job 31:28 (avon pelili) are very unclear. The
meaning at Is. 16:3 (asu pelilah) is
vague but could be “justice.” The meaning at Is. 28:7 (paku peliliah) (=they tottered in their peliliah) seems to be a legal decision made by a priest. Finally,
there is the well-known and very unclear ve-natan
be-flilim
of Ex. 21:22. Onkelos translates this as ve-yiten al meimar dayanaya. But this does not seem to fit the
words. The Septuagint translates the two words as “according to estimate.” See
Speiser, p. 303. Speiser is unsure if this translation was based on guesswork
or an old tradition, but thinks it is essentially correct.
[7]  Note that Rashi relates it to the word maḥshavah. Sometimes the verb is
translated in this verse as “hope.” Even though this interpretation makes sense
in this verse, I am not aware of support for it in other verses. That is why I
prefer “think” and “assess,” which are closer to “intervene” and “judge.” Many
translate the word as “judge” in this verse: I did not judge (=have the
opinion) that I would see your face. See, e.g., The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon, entry פלל. 
[8] Brown-Driver-Briggs translates ויפלל using a similar verb: “interpose.” See
their entry פלל.  Alternatively, some translate ויפלל here as “executed judgment.”
[9] It has been
suggested that the “judge” meaning is just a later development from the
“intervene” meaning.
[10] The exact number
given varies from study to study. I have also seen references to 946, 780 and
“over 825.” See Joel S. Baden, “Hithpael and Niphal in Biblical Hebrew:
Semantic and Morphological Overlap,” Vetus
Testamentum
60 (2010), pp. 33-44, 35 n.7.
[11]  We must be careful not to assume that the hitpael originated as a reflexive stem.
Most likely, the standard Hebrew hitpael
is a conflation of a variety of earlier t-stem forms that had different roles.
See Baden, p. 33, n. 1 and E.A. Speiser, “The Durative Hithpa‘el: A tan-Form,” Journal of the American Oriental Society
75 (2) (1955), pp. 118-121.
[12]  See the above article by Speiser. For example,
with regard to the hitpael of אבל, the implication may be “to be in mourning
over a period of time.” With regard to התמם
(the hitpael of תמם; I I Sam. 22:26 and Ps.18:26.), the implication may be “to be
continually upright.” Some more examples: משתאה  at Gen. 24:21 (continually gaze),  תתאוה
at Deut. 5:18 (tenth commandment; continually desire), ויתגעשו  at Ps. 18:8 (continually
shake), and  התעטף
at Ps. 142:4 (continually be weak/faint ). Another example is the root נחל. When it is in the hitpael, the implication may be “to come into and remain in
possession.”
[13] See T. Lambdin, Introduction to Biblical Hebrew (1971),
pp. 249-250, and Speiser, The Stem PLL,
p. 305.
[14] Rav Hirsch views התחנן as “to seek to make himself worthy of
concession.” See his comm. to Deut. 3:23. This is farfetched. Hayim Tawil
observes that there is an Akkadian root enēnu,
“to plead,” and sees this Akkadian root as underlying the Hebrew התחנן. He views the hitpael as signifying that the pleading is continous (like the
import of the hitpael in hithalekh). See his An Akkadian Lexical Companion For Biblical Hebrew (2009), pp.
113-14. But there is insufficient reason to read an Akkadian root into התחנן, when we have a very appropriate Hebrew
root חנן.
[15]  See Theological
Dictionary of the Old Testament
, vol. 11, p. 568, Ernest Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of
the Hebrew Language for Readers of English
(1987), p. 511,
Brown-Driver-Briggs, entry פלל, and
Koehler-Baumgartner, entry פלל, p. 933.
[16] The Soncino commentary
here remarks that this was “a form of worship common to several cults with the
purpose of exciting the pity of the gods, or to serve as a blood-bond between
the devotee and his god.”
[17] See Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament,
vol.  11, p. 568,  Klein, p. 511, and Koehler-Baumgartner, entry
פלל, p. 933.
[18] One scholar claims
to have located as many as 68 such instances in Tanakh, but does not list them. For the reference, see Baden, p.
35, n. 7. Baden doubts the number is this high and believes that the true
number is much lower. Baden would dispute some of the examples that I am
giving. Hitpaels with true passive
meanings are found more frequently in Rabbinic Hebrew. The expansion of the
meaning of the hitpael stem to
include the true passive form took place in other Semitic languages as well.
See O.T. Allis, “The Blessing of Abraham,” The
Princeton Theological Review
(1927), pp. 263-298, 274-278.
[19] These and several
others are collected at Allis, pp. 281-83. 
For a few more true passives, see Kohelet 8:10, I Sam. 3:14, Lam. 4:1,
and I Chr. 5:17.

[20] See, e.g., Allis,
and Chee-Chiew Lee, “Once Again: The Niphal and the Hithpael of ברך in the Abrahamic Blessing for the
Nations,” Journal for the Study of the
Old Testament
36.3 (2012), pp. 279-296, and Benjamin J. Noonan, “Abraham,
Blessing, and the Nations: A Reexamination of the Niphal and Hitpael of ברך in the Patriarchal Narratives,” Hebrew Studies 51 (2010), pp. 73-93.



The Root of the Word מבול: A Flood of Possibilities

                      The Root of the Word מבול: A Flood of Possibilities
By Mitchell First[1]  (MFirstatty@aol.com)
                                                                                   
            A common assumption is that the word מבול means “flood.” This is how the word is translated in ArtScroll’s Stone Chumash, in the
Hertz Pentateuch, and in the Koren Tanakh. But in order to truly understand the meaning of a word, we must determine its three letter root.
           The word מבול has four letters, the first of which is a mem. Usually, a mem at the beginning of a noun is not a part of the root. It is what is added to turn a verb into a   noun. Thus, an initial thought might be that the root of מבול is בול.[2]
           But there is no evidence for a verb בול in Biblical Hebrew. Therefore, the vav is probably not a root letter here and one of the three original root letters probably dropped out. The dagesh in the bet of מבול also implies that a root letter dropped out. Our task is to determine what that letter was.
           One possibility is that the original root was בלל and that the dropped letter was a  lamed.[3] In this view, the original noun was perhaps מבלול. If the original root was בלל, the fundamental meaning of the word מבול would be “mixture/intermingling/confusion.”
          The fact that the story of migdal Bavel follows shortly after the story of the מבול gives some credence to this approach. The root בלל is a main theme of the migdal Bavel  story (see Genesis 11:7 and 11:9). But the dagesh in the bet of מבול implies that the dropped letter was the first letter of the root.[4]
           Therefore, a more likely possibility for the root of מבול is נבל.[5] The verb נבל has the meaning of “fall, decay, destroy.”[6] The root letter nun often drops as the first letter of the root. In this approach, the original noun was מנבול.
            The problem with claiming that the root נבל underlies the word מבול is that נבל is typically used in the context of a gradual destruction, such as in the context of leaves and flowers.[7] See, e.g., Is. 28:1: ve-tziz novel, Is. 34:4: ki-nevol aleh mi-gefen, and Is. 40:7: naval tzitz. It seems to mean “wither” and “decay,” rather than “destroy.” There is one instance in the Tanakh where the root נבל is applied to the world. See Is. 24:4: navlah ha-aretz…navlah tevel. But even here the implication may be one of gradual decay.[8]
             Radak agrees that the root of מבול is נבל, but takes a different approach.[9] In his approach, the fundamental meaning of the root נבל is “fall.”[10] But the word is not being used to describe the effects of the flood (earthly items falling and being destroyed). The word is being used to describe something that is itself falling from the heavens. In Radak’s view, anything that falls from the heavens (e.g., snow, hail and fire) can be called a מבול.[11]
             A third approach to the root of מבול is that it is יבל.[12] This seems to be the most likely approach. In this approach, the original noun was מיבול, but the yod dropped.[13]
            Throughout Tanakh, יבל is a root relating to movement and flow.[14] See, e.g., Ps. 60:11: mi yovileini ir matzor (who will lead me into the fortified city?), Is. 53:7: ka-se la-tevach yuval (as a lamb is led to the slaughter), and Is. 55:12: u-ve-shalom tuvalun (and you will be led out with peace).
             Another example of the root יבל relating to movement is in the context of the jubilee year. At Lev. 25:10, we are told: yovel he tiheyeh lachem ve-shavtem ish el achuzato… יובל means “ram” in several places in Tanakh.[15] Based on the statement in Lev. 25:9 that the shofar is blown to proclaim the jubilee year, Rashi believes that yovel must mean ram at Lev. 25:10, and that the reference is to the blowing of the horn of the ram. But the plain sense accords with the view of the Ramban that the meaning of yovel at Lev. 25:10 is “being brought back,” i.e., a time of being brought back to one’s land.[16]
           Also, the root יבל is connected to water in several verses. See Is. 30:25 and 44:4: מים יבלי (streams of water) and Jer. 17:8: יובל. See also Dan 8:2 (אובל).
                                         
           Hayyim Tawil’s An Akkadian Lexical Companion for Biblical Hebrew contributes to our understanding and supports our suggestion that the root of מבול in Biblical Hebrew is יבל. Tawil points out that there is a word in Akkadian bubbulu, which means something like a flood of water.[17] Most probably, this word is related to the Hebrew word mabbul, since Hebrew and Akkadian are related languages, and m and b often interchange. Since bubbulu is used in the context of water, this suggests that the root of מבול is יבל, and not נבל or בלל.                                                      
      
           The issue of the root of the word מבול is not just an etymological one. Philosophically, what we are asking is: was the מבול a force meant to cause intermingling/ confusion? a force meant to cause things to fall/decay/be destroyed?[18] or more neutrally, a force of flowing water? Most likely, the root is יבל and the last is correct.[19]
          Interestingly, Rashi conducts practically the same analysis of the word מבול that we did. In his explanation of the word at Gen. 6:17, he writes:
            she-bilah et ha-kol, she-bilbel et ha-kol, she-hovil et ha-kol min ha-gavoha la-namukh…
 
בלה means “destroy and wear down,” similar to נבל.  בלבל means “mix,” the equivalent of בלל. הוביל means “move” and is from the root יבל.[20] But Rashi seems to believe that the word מבול was purposely chosen to convey all three connotations.
                                                    Additional Notes
        1. Outside of the 12 times the word מבול appears (in various forms) in parshat Noach, the only other time the word appears in Tanakh is at Psalms 29:10: Hashem la-mabbul yashav. Many assume that the meaning here is something like “God sat enthroned at the Flood,”[21] but the prefix la- is difficult in this approach.
           An interesting interpretation is provided by Tawil. He cites a scholar who claims, based on a parallel in Akkadian, that למבול here means “before the Flood,” i.e., “from time immemorial.” The phrase Hashem la-mabbul yashav would then parallel the subsequent phrase va-yeshev Hashem melekh le-olam.[22]
          Many other interpretations of la-mabbul yashav have been suggested.[23] Most creative is the suggestion of Naphtali Herz Tur-Sinai that the reference is to God having dried up the waters of the mabbul and that ישב here is just a methathesized form of יבש![24]
        2. An analysis similar to the one we have conducted on the word מבול can also be conducted on בול, the pre-exilic name for the month of Marchesvan.[25] Is בול named for some activity in the month relating to mixing (בלל)? relating to withering (נבל)? or relating to moving/gathering produce (יבל)? All have been suggested.[26] Because בול may have typically been a rainy month, a derivation from the word מבול has also been suggested. See, e.g., Radak to I Kings 6:38.
              Interestingly, a statement at Midrash Tanchuma, Noach, sec. 11, explains the word מבול as based on the fact that the Flood spanned 40 (מ) days in the month of בול![27]
        3. I focused above on determining the root of  מבולin Biblical Hebrew. If we rephrase the question and ask what the root of the word was in proto-Semitic, the answer changes slightly. The answer would be vav-bet-lamed. The prevailing scholarly view is that most Hebrew roots with an initial yod derive from earlier Semitic roots with an initial vav.[28]

 

 

[1] I would like to thank Rabbi Avrohom Lieberman and Sam Borodach for reviewing the draft.
[2] Also, no Hebrew root begins with the two letters mem and bet. See Eduard Yechezkel Kutscher, A History of the Hebrew Language (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1984 ), p. 7: It is also instructive that [in a Semitic language] in the first two positions, not only are
 identical consonants excluded (the patterning AAB being non-existent except in Akkadian) but even  homorganic consonants (produced by the same organ) do not occur in this position.  Mem and bet are homorganic consonants. (Kutscher admits that there are some exceptions to the rule he stated.)
[3] See, e.g., R. Abraham Ibn Ezra to Gen. 6:17, who makes this suggestion. He also suggests נבל as the root.
[4] Of course, all the dagesh really shows is that whoever inserted this dagesh believed that a letter was dropped. But most likely, the vocalization was based on the pronounciation at the time, which presumably reflected a tradition that the word was pronounced mabbul,
and not mavul. This suggests that there was once a root letter preceding it.
[5] See, e.g., Ibn Ezra, Seforno, and S.D. Luzzatto, on Gen. 6:17. Those who take this approach can point to the fact that the word  מבוע (Ecc. 12:6), also with a dagesh in the bet, undoubtedly comes from the root נבע.
[6] Seforno writes that נבל means mapalah ve-hefsed and Luzzatto writes that נבל means nefilah ve-hashchatah. Seforno points to the use of the word משחיתם (=destroy them) at Gen. 6:13 as evidence that mabul probably has this meaning as well. Very likely, the roots נבל and נפל are related.
[7] R. Samson Raphael Hirsch argues that this is precisely the point. By using the term מבול, the Torah was implying that on some level the event was only of a mild character. I do not find this argument convincing. Although Noah and his family remained in the Ark for one year and ten days (see Gen. 6:11 and 7:14), the implication of verse 7:23 (va-yimach et kol ha-yekum…) is that every living thing was destroyed decisively in the first 40 days.
[8] See, e.g., the translation in the Soncino edition. The Hebrew root בלה also connotes gradual decay. See, e.g., Deut. 8:4 (clothes), 29:4 (shoes), and Gen. 18:12 (Sarah). It may be related to the root נבל. In Akkadian, the root nabulu may have more of a connotation of destruction than the Hebrew root נבל.  See, e.g., the concordance of S. Mandelkern, entry מבול, and Ernest Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language for Readers of English (New York: MacMillan, 1987), p. 311. This would give more of a basis to interpret מבול as deriving from נבל.
[9] In addition to his comm. to Gen. 6:17, see his Sefer ha-Shoreshim, entry נבל.
[10] In rabbinic Hebrew, a נובלת is an unripe fruit that falls off of the tree.
[11] Both San. 108b and Zev. 116a refer to a mabbul shel esh.  Radak also points to the phrase nivlei shamayim at Job 38:37, where the context indicates that the phrase refers to falling rain. But it seems more likely that  נבלי  there means “vessels,” i.e., the clouds that hold the rain.
    It has been suggested that מבול is related to the “vessel” meaning of נבל. In this view, the meaning of מבול is “a receptacle that holds water.” See, e.g., Hayim ben Yosef  Tawil, An Akkadian Lexical Companion for Biblical Hebrew  (Jersey City: Ktav, 2009) p. 196, who mentions such a suggestion. Probably, the origin of the “vessel” meaning of נבל is that vessels were often made from the skin of a fallen animal (=a נבלה.)
    נבל also has the meaning “disgusting,” probably because withering and falling things become disgusting. But it seems farfetched to connect מבול with this meaning of נבל.
[12] See, e.g., Moses David Cassuto, Peirush al Sefer Bereshit (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1953), vol. 2, p. 45, Daat Mikra (comm. to Gen. 6:17), Menachem Tzvi Kadari, Millon ha-Ivrit ha-Mikrait (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan Univ., 2006), p. 575, and Tawil, p. 196. The Daat Mikra commentary to Genesis 6:17 (p. 177, n. 52) points out that all three sons of Lemekh have a name derived from the root יבל: Yaval, Yuval, and
Tuval Kayin. See Gen. 4:20-22.
[13] Some other examples of words whose initial yods dropped are: מצע (Is. 28:10, from יצע) and מסד (I Kings 7:9, from יסד). See Daat Mikra to Gen. 6:17.  There is a dagesh in the middle letter of both of these words.
[14] The word also has the related meaning of “carry.” See, e.g., Psalms 76:12: yovilu shai (carry presents). In the Shema, the word יבולה is used to mean the produce of the land. Most likely, it has this meaning because produce must be carried in from the land. (See similarly, the word תבואה, which also means produce, and comes from the root בוא. See Klein, p. 689.) Alternatively, the word יבולה means produce because produce flows from the land.
[15] Yovel means ram at Ex. 19:13 and throughout the sixth chapter of the book of Joshua. (That yovel means ram at Ex. 19:13 is evident from Josh. 6:5. It is also suggested by Ex. 19:16.)
[16] Ramban defines yovel as הבאה. R. Hirsch also takes this approach to this verse. See also the commentaries of R. Saadiah Gaon, Ibn Ezra,
and Hizzekuni. R. Hirsch also makes the suggestion that when yovel is used in the context of a sound being made, we can translate yovel as “home-calling signal,” based on the verb יבל. Despite the brilliance of this suggestion, a comparison of Ex. 19:13 with Josh. 6:5 suggests that, in the sound contexts, yovel is merely short for keren ha-yovel (=the horn of the ram). Is there a connection between the “movement/bringing” meaning of yovel and the “ram” meaning?  R. Hirsch makes the following interesting suggestion:
[T]he  ram, is the leader of the flock, the one who “brings” them to their pasturage, perhaps quite specially, who goes in front, and the flock following him, “brings them home.” See similarly Klein, entry יובל (p. 256): “leader of the flock, bellwether.”
[17] Tawil, p. 196. The standard word in Akkadian for flood is abūbu.
[18] Or, according to Radak, a force of falling water.
[19] It is interesting to note that in the Septuagint the word מבול was translated as κατακλυσμός = down-cleansing. (The ArtScroll Tehillim commentary to Psalms 29:10, p. 354, refers to the mabul as a “cataclysmic” upheaval. Surely, this is just coincidence!) But the Greek-speaking Egyptian Jews had a very limited understanding of the structure of Hebrew words. Surely, they did not see the root יבל in the word.
[20] For further elaboration, see the Siftei Chakhamim and ArtScroll’s Sapirstein edition of Rashi. The three-pronged interpretation expressed in this Rashi seems to be his own.
[21] See, e.g., the ArtScroll Siddur. See also Rambam, Moreh Nevukhim, part I, chap. 11.
[22] See Tawil, p. 196.
[23] For example, the Daat Mikra commentary to Psalms 29:10 cites a suggestion that מבול here means “throne,” based on a resemblance to a word in Arabic. The suggestion is made by Jacob Nahum Epstein in “Mabbul,” Tarbitz 12 (1940), p. 82. But the Arabic word that Epstein bases his suggestion on is pronounced מנבר; Epstein must assume that there was a switch of resh and lamed. (The Daat Mikra comm. to Gen. 6:17 states that the relevant word is in Akkadian, but this is an error.)
    The Anchor Bible translates: “has sat enthroned from the flood” (=from the time of the flood) and argues that the reference is not to the מבול of the time of Noach, but to some other water-related Divine victory.
[24] See his Peshuto shel Mikra, vol. 4, part 1 (Jerusalem: Kiryat Sefer, 1967), p. 56.
[25] See I Kings 6:38.
[26] See, e.g., J. Talmud Rosh ha-Shanah 1:2, Daat Mikra to I Kings 6:38, and Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (Leiden-New York-Köln: Brill, 1994), vol. 1, entry בול. (The connection to בלל seems least likely.)
     Of course, because the word בול lacks a mem at the outset, there is less reason to suspect that an initial root letter such as nun or yod was dropped. But the בול of Job 40:20 surely comes from יבול.
[27] See Gen. 7:11-12.
[28] Support for this in our case is that there is a word in Arabic, wabala, to bring down rain. See Cassuto, vol. 2, p. 45. See also Tawil’s reference (p. 196) to the Akkadian word (w)abālu.
   Of course, it is possible that מבול is a non-Semitic word that happened to make its way into the Tanakh and we are completely misguided in our search for its origin and meaning in Biblical Hebrew and the other Semitic languages. But it is a noun that begins with mem and this is a typical Biblical Hebrew form. Moreover, the parallels in the other Semitic languages support our conclusion that the origin of the word   is a Semitic one and that its root is vav-bet-lamed/yod-bet-lamed.



The Identity and Meaning of Chashmonai

The Identity and Meaning of Chashmonai [1]
By Mitchell  First
(MFirstatty@aol.com)
        The name Chashmonai appears many times in the Babylonian Talmud, but usually the references are vague. The references are either to beit Chashmonai, malkhut Chashmonai, malkhut beit Chashmonai, malkhei beit Chashmonai, or beit dino shel Chashmonai.[2]  One time (at Megillah 11a) the reference is to an individual named Chashmonai, but neither his father nor his sons are named.
           The term Chashmonai (with the spelling חשמוניי) appears two times in the Jerusalem Talmud, once in the second chapter of Taanit and the other in a parallel passage in the first chapter of Megillah.[3] Both times the reference is to the story of Judah defeating the Syrian military commander Nicanor,[4] although Judah is not mentioned by name. In the passage in Taanit, the reference is to echad mi-shel beit Chashmonai.[5] In the passage in Megillah, the reference is to echad mi-shel Chashmonai. Almost certainly, the passage in Taanit preserves the original reading.[6] If so, the reference is again vague.
 
           Critically, the name Chashmonai is not found in any form in I or II Maccabees, our main sources for the historical background of the events of Chanukkah.[7] But fortunately the name does appear in two sources in Tannaitic literature.[8] It is only through one of these two sources that we can get a handle on the identity of Chashmonai.
————
       Already in the late first century, the identity of Chashmonai seems to have been a mystery to Josephus. (Josephus must have heard of the name from his extensive Pharisaic education, and from being from the family.) In his Jewish War, he identifies Chashmonai as the father of Mattathias.[9] Later, at XII, 265 of his Antiquities, he identifies Chashmonai as the great-grandfather of Mattathias.[10] Probably, his approach here is the result of his knowing from I Maccabees 2:1 that Mattathias was the son of a John who was the son of a Simon, and deciding to integrate the name Chashmonai with this data by making him the father of Simon.[11] It is very likely that Josephus had no actual knowledge of the identity of Chashmonai and was just speculating here. It is too coincidental that he places Chashmonai as the father of Simon, where there is room for him. If Josephus truly had a tradition from his family about the specific identity of Chashmonai, it would already have been included in his Jewish War.
   The standard printed text at Megillah 11a implies that Chashmonai is not Mattathias: she-he-emadeti lahem Shimon ha-Tzaddik ve-Chashmonai u-vanav u-Matityah kohen gadol…This is also the implication of the standard printed text at Soferim 20:8, when it sets forth the Palestinian version of the Amidah insertion for Chanukkah; the text includes the phrase: Matityahu ben Yochanan kohen gadol ve-Chashmonai u-vanav…[12] There are also midrashim on Chanukkah that refer to a Chashmonai who was a separate person from Mattathias and who was instrumental in the revolt.[13]
        But the fact that I Maccabees does not mention any separate individual named Chashmonai involved in the revolt strongly suggests that there was no such individual. Moreover, there are alternative readings at both Megillah 11a and Soferim 20:8.[14] Also, the midrashim on Chanukkah that refer to a Chashmonai who was a separate person from Mattathias are late midrashim.[15] In the prevalent version of Al ha-Nissim today, Chashmonai has no vav preceding it.[16]
        If there was no separate person named Chashmonai at the time of the revolt, and if the statement of Josephus that Chashmonai was the great-grandfather of Mattathias is only a conjecture, who was Chashmonai?
           Let us look at our two earliest sources for Chashmonai.  One of these is M. Middot 1:6.[17]
                        …המוקד בבית היו לשכות ארבע  [18]…ייון מלכי ששיקצום המזבח אבני את חשמוניי בני גנזו בה צפונית מזרחית
From here, it seems that Chashmonai is just another name for Mattathias. This is also the implication of Chashmonai in many of the later passages.[19]
             The other Tannaitic source for Chashmonai is Seder Olam, chap. 30. Here the language is: malkhut beit Chashmonai meah ve-shalosh =the dynasty of  the House of Chashmonai, 103 [years].[20] Although one does not have to interpret Chashmonai here as a reference to Mattathias,  this interpretation does fit this passage.
          Thus a reasonable approach based on these two early sources is to interpret Chashmonai as another way of referring to Mattathias.[21] But we still do not know why these sources would refer to him in this way. Of course, one possibility is that it was his additional name.[22] Just like each of his five sons had an additional name,[23] perhaps Chashmonai was the additional name of Mattathias.[24] But I Maccabees, which stated that each of Mattathias’ sons had an additional name, did not make any such statement in the case of Mattathias himself.
         Perhaps we should not deduce much from this omission. Nothing required the author of I Maccabees to mention that Mattathias had an additional name. But one scholar has suggested an interesting reason for the omission.  It is very likely that a main purpose of I Maccabees was the glorification of Mattathias in order to legitimize the rule of his descendants.[25] Their rule needed legitimization because the family was not from the priestly watch of Yedayah. Traditionally, the high priest came from this watch.[26] I Maccabees achieves its purpose by portraying a zealous Mattathias and creating parallels between Mattathias and the Biblical Pinchas, who was rewarded with the priesthood for his zealousness.[27] Perhaps, it has been suggested, the author of I Maccabees left out the additional name for Mattathias because it would remind readers of the obscure origin of the dynasty.[28] (We will discuss why this might have been the case when we discuss the meaning of the name in the next section.)
—–
             We have seen that a reasonable approach, based on the two earliest rabbinic sources, is to interpret Chashmonai as another way of referring to Mattathias.
        The next question is the meaning of the name. The name could be based on the name of some earlier ancestor of Mattathias. But we have no clear knowledge of any ancestor of Mattathias with this name.[29] Moreover, this only begs the question of where the earlier ancestor would have obtained this name.[30] The most widely held view is that the name Chashmonai   derives from a place that some ancestor of Mattathias hailed from a few generations earlier. (Mattathias and his immediate ancestors hailed from Modin.[31]) For example, Joshua 15:27 refers to a place called Cheshmon in the area of the tribe of Judah.[32] Alternatively, a location Chashmonah is mentioned at Numbers 33:29-30 as one of the places that the Israelites encamped in the desert.[33] In either of these interpretations, the name may have reminded others of the obscure origin of Mattathias’ ancestors and hence the author of I Maccabees might have refrained from using it.
        It has also been observed that the word חשמנים  (Chashmanim) occurs at Psalms 68:32:
                     .לאלקים מני מצרים; כוש תריץ ידיו חַשְׁמַנִּים יאתיו
      Chashmanim will come out of Egypt;  Kush shall hasten her hands to God.
(The context is that the nations of the world are bringing gifts and singing to God.[34])
             It has been suggested that the name Chashmonai is related to חשמנים here.[35] Unfortunately, this is the only time the word חשמנים appears in Tanakh, so its meaning is unclear.[36] The Septuagint translates it as πρέσβεις (=ambassadors).[37] The Talmud seems to imply that it means “gifts.”[38] Based on a similar word in Egyptian, the meanings “bronze,” “natron” (a mixture used for many purposes including as a dye), and “amethyst” (a quartz of blue or purplish color) can be suggested.[39] Ugaritic and Akkadian have a similar word with the meaning of a color, or colored stone, or a coloring of dyed wool or leather; the color being perhaps red-purple, blue, or green.[40] Based on this, meanings such as red cloth or blue cloth have been suggested.[41] Based on similar words in Arabic, “oil” and “horses and chariots” have been proposed.[42] A connection to another hapax legomenon, אשמנים,[43] has also been suggested. אשמנים perhaps means darkness,[44] in which case חשמנים, if related, may mean dark-skinned people.[45] Finally, it has been suggested that חשמנים derives from the word שמן  (oil), and that it refers to important people, i.e., nobles, because the original meaning is “one who gives off light.” (This is akin to “illustrious” in English).[46]
      But the simplest interpretation is that it refers to a people by the name חשמנים.[47] An argument in favor of this is that חשמנים seems to be parallel to Kush, another people, in this verse. Also, יאתיו is an active form; it means “will come,” and not “will be brought.”[48]
        Whatever the meaning of the word חשמנים, I would like to raise the possibility that an ancestor of Mattathias lived in Egypt for a period and that people began to call him something like Chashmonai upon his return, based on this verse.
                                             Conclusions
       Even though Josephus identifies Chashmonai as the great-grandfather of Mattathias, this was probably just speculation. It is too coincidental that he places Chashmonai as the father of Simon, precisely where there is room for him.
        The most reasonable approach, based on the earliest rabbinic sources, is to interpret Chashmonai as another way of referring to Mattathias, either because it was his additional name or for some other reason. A main purpose of I Maccabees was the glorification of Mattathias in order to legitimize the rule of his descendants. This may have led the author of I Maccabees to leave the name out; the author would not have wanted to remind readers of the obscure origin of the dynasty.
       Most probably, the name Chashmonai derives from a place that some ancestor of the family hailed from.
—–
       A few other points:
            º Most probably, the name חשמונאי did not originally include an aleph. The two earliest Mishnah manuscripts, Kaufmann and Parma (De Rossi 138), spell the name חשמוניי.[49] This is also how the name is spelled in the two passages in the Jerusalem Talmud.[50] As is the case with many other names that end with אי (such as שמאי), the aleph is probably a later addition that reflects the spelling practice in Babylonia.[51]
            º The plural חשמונאים is not found in the rabbinic literature of the Tannaitic or Amoraic periods,[52] and seems to be a later development.[53] (An alternative plural that also arose is חשמונים; this plural probably arose earlier than the former.[54]) This raises the issue of whether the name was ever used in the plural in the Second Temple period.
       The first recorded use of the name in the plural is by Josephus, writing in Greek in the decades after the destruction of the Temple.[55] It is possible that the name was never used as a group name or family name in Temple times and that we have been misled by the use of the plural by Josephus.[56] On the other hand, it is possible that by the time of Josephus the plural had already come into use and Josephus was merely following prevailing usage. In this approach, how early the plural came into use remains a question.
      Since there is no evidence that the name was used as a family or group name at the time of Mattathias himself, the common translation in Al ha-Nissim: “the Hasmonean” (see, e.g., the Complete ArtScroll Siddur, p. 115) is misleading. It implies that he was one of a group or family using this name at this time. A better translation would be “Chashmonai,” implying that it was a description/additional name of Mattathias alone.
  °  The last issue that needs to be addressed is the date of Al ha-Nissim.
    According to most scholars, the daily Amidah was not instituted until the time of R. Gamliel, and even then the precise text was not fixed.[57] Probably, there was no Amidah at all for most of the Second Temple period.[58] The only Amidot that perhaps came into existence in some form in the late Second Temple period were those for the Sabbath and Biblical festivals.[59] Based on all of the above, it is extremely unlikely that any part of our text of Al ha-Nissim dates to the Hasmonean period.
    The concept of  an insertion in the Amidah for Chanukkah is found already at Tosefta Berakhot 3:14. See also, in the Jerusalem Talmud, Berakhot 4:1 and 7:4, and in the Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 24a, and perhaps Shabbat 21b.[60] But exactly what was being recited in the Tannaitic and Amoraic periods remains unknown. The version recited today largely parallels what is found in the sources from Geonic Babylonia. The version recited in Palestine in the parallel period was much shorter. See Soferim 20:8 (20:6, ed. Higger).[61] The fact that the Babylonian and Palestinian versions differ so greatly suggests that the main text that we recite today for Al ha-Nissim is not Tannaitic in origin. On the other hand, both versions do include a line that begins biymei Matityah(u), so perhaps this line is a core line and could date as early as the late first century or the second century C.E.[62]
    In any event, the prevalent version of Al ha-Nissim today, Matityahu … kohen gadol Chashmonai u-vanav, can easily be understood as utilizing Chashmonai as an additional name for Mattathias. But this may just be coincidence. It is possible that the author knew of both names, did not understand the difference between them, and merely placed them next to one another.[63]
        On the other hand, we have seen the reading ve-Chashmonai in both Al ha-Nissim and Tractate Soferim. Perhaps this was the original reading, similar to the reading in many manuscripts of Megillah 11a. Perhaps all of these texts were originally composed with the assumption that Mattathias and Chashmonai were separate individuals. But there is also a strong possibility that these vavs arose later based on a failure to understand that the reference to Chashmonai was also a reference to Mattathias.
——
      Postscript: Anyone who is not satisfied with my explanations for Chashmonai can adopt the explanation intuited by my friend David Gertler when he was a child. His teacher was talking to the class about Mattityahu-Chashmonai and his five sons, without providing any explanation of the name Chashmonai. David reasoned: it must be that he is called חשמני because he had five sons (i.e., חמשי metathesized into חשמי/חשמני)![64]

 

 

[1] I would like to thank Rabbi Avrohom Lieberman, Rabbi Ezra Frazer, and Sam Borodach for reviewing the draft.  I will spell the name Chashmonai throughout, as is the modern convention, even though the vav has a shuruk in the Kaufmann manuscript of the Mishnah and Chashmunai may be the original pronunciation
[2]  The references to beit dino shel Chashmonai are at Sanhedrin 82a and Avodah Zarah 36b.    The balance of the references are at: Shabbat 21b,  Menachot 28b  and 64b, Kiddushin 70b, Sotah 49b, Yoma 16a, Rosh ha-Shanah 18b and 24b, Taanit 18b, Megillah 6a, Avodah Zarah 9a, 43a, and 52b, Bava Kamma 82b, and  Bava Batra 3b. For passages in classical midrashic literature that include the name Chashmonai, see, e.g., Bereshit Rabbah 99:2, Bereshit Rabbah 97 (ed. Theodor-Albeck, p. 1225), Tanchuma Vayechi 14, Tanchuma Vayechi, ed. Buber, p. 219, Tanchuma Shofetim 7,  Pesikta de-Rav Kahana, p. 107 (ed. Mandelbaum), and Pesikta Rabbati 5a and 23a (ed. Ish Shalom). See also Midrash ha-Gadol to Genesis 49:28 (p. 866). The name is also found in the Targum to I Sam. 2:4 and Song of Songs 6:7.
     The name is also found in sources such as Al ha-Nissim, the scholion to Megillat Taanit, Tractate Soferim, Seder Olam Zuta, and Midrash Tehillim. These will be discussed further below.
     The name is also found in Megillat Antiochus. This work, originally composed in Aramaic, seems to refer to bnei Chashmunai and/or beit Chashmunai. See Menachem Tzvi Kadari, “Megillat Antiochus ha-Aramit,” Bar Ilan 1 (1963), p. 100 (verse 61 and notes) and p. 101 (verse 64 and notes). There is also perhaps a reference to the individual. See the added paragraph at p. 101 (bottom). This work is generally viewed as very unreliable. See, e.g., EJ 14:1046-47.
Most likely, it was composed in Babylonia in the Geonic period.  See Aryeh Kasher, “Ha-Reka ha-Historiy le-Chiburah shel Megillat Antiochus,” in Bezalel Bar-Kochva, ed., Ha-Tekufah ha-Selukit be-Eretz Yisrael (1980), pp. 85-102,  and Zeev Safrai, “The Scroll of Antiochus and the Scroll of Fasts,” in The Literature of the Sages, vol. 2, eds. Shmuel Safrai, Zeev Safrai, Joshua Schwartz, and Peter J. Tomson (2006). A Hebrew translation of Megillat Antiochus was included in sources such as the Siddur Otzar ha-Tefillot and in the Birnbaum Siddur.
[3] Taanit 2:8 (66a) and Megillah 1:3 (70c). In the Piotrkow edition, the passages are at Taanit 2:12 and Megillah 1:4.
[4] This took place in 161 B.C.E. On this event, see I Macc. 7:26-49, II Macc. 15:1-36, and Josephus, Antiquities XII, 402-412.  The story is also found at Taanit 18b, where  the name of the victor
is given more generally as  malkhut beit Chashmonai.
[5] Mi-shel and beit are combined and written as one word in the Leiden manuscript. Also, there is a chirik under the nun. See Yaakov Zusman’s 2001 edition of the Leiden manuscript, p. 717.
[6] The phrase echad mi-shel Chashmonai  is awkward and unusual; it seems fairly obvious that a word such as beit is missing. Vered Noam, in her discussion of the passages in the Jerusalem Talmud about Judah defeating Nicanor, adopts the reading in Taanit and never even mentions the reading in Megillah. See her Megillat Taanit (2003), p. 300.
   There are no manuscripts of the passage in Megillah other than the Leiden manuscript. There is another manuscript of the passage in Taanit. It is from the Genizah and probably dates earlier than the Leiden manuscript (copied in 1289). It reads echad mi-shel-beit Chashmonai. See Levi (Louis) Ginzberg, Seridei ha-Yerushalmi (1909), p. 180.
   Mi-shel and Chashmonai are combined and written as one word in the Leiden manuscript of the passage in Megillah and there is no vocalization under the nun of Chashmonai here.
[7]  I Maccabees was probably composed after the death of John Hyrcanus in 104 B.C.E., or at least when his reign was well-advanced. See I Macc. 16:23-24.  II Maccabees is largely an abridgment of the work of someone named Jason of Cyrene. This Jason is otherwise unknown. Many scholars believe that he was a contemporary of Judah. Mattathias is not mentioned  in II Macc. The main plot of  the Chanukkah story (=the persecution of the Jews by Antiochus IV and the Jewish rededication of the Temple) took place over the years 167-164 B.C.E.
[8] M. Middot 1:6 (benei Chashmonai) and Seder Olam, chap. 30 (malkhut beit Chashmonai).
[9] I, 36. This view is also found in Seder Olam Zuta, chap. 8.
   Earlier, at I, 19, he wrote that Antiochus Epiphanes was expelled by ’Ασαμωναίου παίδων (“the sons of”  Chashmonai; see the Loeb edition, p. 13, note a. ). This perhaps implies an equation of Chashmonai and Mattathias, But παίδων probably means “descendants of” here.
[10] XII, 265. Jonathan Goldstein in his I Maccabees
(Anchor Bible, 1976),  p. 19,  prefers a different translation of the Greek here. He claims that, in this passage, Josephus identifies Chashmonai with Simon. But Goldstein’s translation of this passage is not the one adopted by most scholars.
   There are also passages in Antiquities that could imply that Chashmonai is to be identified with Mattathias. See XX, 190, 238, and 249. But παίδων probably has the meaning of  “descendants of ” (and not “sons of”) in these passages, and there is no such identification implied.
   The ancient table of contents that prefaces book XII of Antiquities identifies Chashmonai as the father of Mattathias. See Antiquities, XII,  pp. 706-07, Loeb edition. (This edition publishes these tables of contents at the end of each book.) But these tables of contents may not have been composed by Josephus but by his assistants. Alternatively, they may have been composed centuries later.
In his autobiographical work Life (paras. 2 and 4), Josephus mentions Chashmonai as his ancestor. But the statements are too vague to determine his identity. This work was composed a few years after Antiquities.
[11] Goldstein suggests (pp. 60-61) that Josephus did not
have I Macc. in front of him when writing his Jewish War, even though Goldstein believes that Josephus had read it and was utilizing his recollection of it as a source. Another view is that Josephus drew his sketch of Hasmonean history in his Jewish War mainly from the gentile historian Nicolaus of Damascus.
    Most likely, even when writing Antiquities, Josephus did not have II Macc. or the work of Jason of Cyrene. See, e.g., Daniel Schwartz, Sefer Makabim ב (2008), pp. 30 and 58-59, Isaiah M. Gafni, “Josephus and I Maccabees,” in Josephus, the Bible, and history, eds. Louis H. Feldman and Gohei Hata (1989), p. 130, n. 39, and Menachem Stern, “Moto shel Chonyo ha-Shelishi,” Tziyyon 25
(1960), p. 11.
[12] I am not referring to the Palestinian version as Al ha-Nissim, since it lacks this phrase. The text of Al ha-Nissim in the Seder R. Amram (ed. Goldschmidt, p. 97) is the same (except that it reads Matityah). See also R. Abraham Ha-Yarchi (12th cent.), Ha-Manhig (ed. Raphael), vol. 2, p. 528, which refers to Matityah kohen gadol ve-Chashmonai u-vanav, and seems to be quoting here from an earlier midrashic source. Finally, see Midrash Tehillim, chap. 30:6 which refers to Chashmonai u-vanav and then to beney Matityahu. The passages clearly imply that these are different groups.
[13] See the midrashim on Chanukkah first published by
Adolf Jellinek in the mid-19th century, later republished by Judah
David Eisenstein in his Otzar Midrashim (1915). Mattathias and Chashmonai are clearly two separate individuals in the texts which Einsenstein calls Midrash Maaseh Chanukkah and Maaseh Chanukkah, Nusach ‘ב. See also
Rashi to Deut. 33:11 (referring to twelve sons of  Chashmonai).
[14] As  I write this, Lieberman-institute.com records four manuscripts that have Chashmonai with the initial vav like the Vilna edition, two manuscripts that have Chashmonai without the initial vav (Goettingen 3, and Oxford Opp. Add. fol. 23), and one manuscript (Munich 95) that does not have the name at all. (Another manuscript does not have the name but it is too fragmentary.) There are three more manuscripts of Megillah 11a, aside from what is presently recorded on Lieberman-institute.com. See Yaakov Zusman, Otzar Kivei ha-Yad ha-Talmudiyyim (2012), vol. 3,  p. 211. I have not checked these.
    With regard to the passage in Soferim 20:8, there is at least one manuscript that reads חשמונאי (without the initial vav). See Michael Higger, ed., Massekhet Soferim (1937), p. 346, line 35 (text). (It seems that Higger printed the reading of  ms.ב  in the text here.)
[15] These midrashim are estimated to have been compiled in the 10th century. EJ 11:1511.
[16] The prevalent version is based on the Siddur Rav Saadiah Gaon (p. 255): Matityah ben Yochanan kohen gadol Chashmonai u-vanav. This version too can be read as reflecting the idea that Chashmonai was a separate person.
[17] Middot is a tractate that perhaps reached close to
complete form earlier than most of the other tractates. See Abraham Goldberg, “The Mishna- A Study Book of Halakha,” in The Literature of the Sages, vol. 1, ed. Shmuel Safrai (1987).
[18] The above is the text in the Kaufmann Mishnah manuscript. Regarding the word beney, this is the reading in both the Kaufmann and Parma (De Rossi 138) manuscripts. Admittedly, other manuscripts of Mishnah Middot 1:6, such as the one included in the Munich manuscript of the Talmud, read ganzu beit Chashmonai.
But the Kaufmann and Parma (De Rossi 138) manuscripts are generally viewed as the most reliable ones. Moreover, the beit reading does not fit the context. Since the references to Chashmonai in the Babylonian Talmud are often prefixed by the word beit and are never prefixed by the word beney, we can understand how an erroneous reading of beit could have crept into the Mishnah here.
      The Mishnah in Middot is quoted at Yoma 16a and Avodah Zarah 52b. At Yoma 16a, Lieberman-institute.com presently records five manuscripts or early printed editions with beit, and none with bnei. At Avodah Zarah 52b, it records three with beit and one with beney. (The Vilna edition has beit in both places.) Regarding the spelling חשמוניי in the Mishnah, most likely, this was the original spelling of the name. See the discussion below.
[19] See, e.g., Bereshit Rabbah 99:2: חשמונאי  בני ביד  נופלת  יון מלכות  מי ביד,  Bereshit Rabbah 97 (ed. Theodor-Albeck, p. 1225): לוי של משבטו היו חשמוניי שבני,  Pesikta Rabbati 5a, Tanchuma Vayechi 14, Tanchuma Vayechi, ed. Buber, p. 219, Pesikta de-Rav Kahana, p. 107, and Midrash ha-Gadol to Genesis 49:28. See also the midrash published by Jacob Mann and Isaiah Sonne in The Bible as Read and Preached in the Old Synagogue, vol. 2 (1966), p. עב.
      I also must mention the scholion to Megillat
Taanit
. (I am not talking about Megillat Taanit itself. There are no references to Chashmonai there.) As Vered Noam has shown in her critical edition of Megillat Taanit, the two most important manuscripts to the scholion are the Parma manuscript and the Oxford manuscript.
      If we look at the Parma manuscript to the scholion to 25 Kislev, it uses the phrase nikhnesu beney Chashmonai le-har ha-bayit, implying that the author of this passage viewed Chashmonai as Mattathias.
        On 14 Sivan, the Oxford manuscript of the scholion tells us that חשמונאי יד וכשגברה, the city of קסרי was conquered. Probably, the author of this passage is referring to the acquisition of Caesarea by Alexander Yannai, and the author is using Chashmonai loosely. Probably the author meant beit Chashmonai or malkhut beit Chashmonai. (One of these may even have been the original text.)
       On 15-16 Sivan, the Parma manuscript of the scholion tells us about the military victory of  חשמונאי בני over Beit Shean. We know from Josephus (Antiquities XIII, 275-83 and Jewish War I,  64-66) that this was a victory that occurred in the time of John Hyrcanus and that his the sons were the leaders in the battle. But it would be a leap to deduce that the author of this passage believed that John was חשמונאי. Probably, the author was using חשמונאי בני loosely and meant beit Chashmonai or malkhut beit Chashmonai. Not surprisingly, the Oxford manuscript has beit Chashmonai here.
       In the balance of the passages in the scholion, if we look only at the Parma and Oxford manuscripts, references to beit Chashmonai or malkhut beit Chashmonai  are found at 23 Iyyar, 27 Iyyar, 24 Av, 3 Tishrei, 23 Marchesvan, 3 Kislev, 25 Kislev, and 13 Adar.
[20] This passage is quoted at Avodah Zarah 9a. In the
Vilna edition, the passage reads malkhut Chashmonai. The three
manuscripts presently recorded at Lieberman-Institute.com all include the beit preceding חשמונאי. The other source recorded there is the Pesaro printed edition of 1515. This source reads  חשמוניי מלכות.
[21] One can also make this argument based on the passage
in the first chapter of Megillah in the Jerusalem Talmud: משלחשמוניי אחד ויצא. This passage tells a story about Judah (without mentioning him by name). But the parallel passage in the
second chapter of Taanit reads:  חשמוניי בית משל אחד אליו ויצא. As pointed out earlier, almost certainly this is the original reading. Moreover, if a passage intended to refer to a son of Chashmonai, the reading we would expect would be: חשמוניי מבני אחד ויצא.
[22] Goldstein, p. 19, n. 34, writes that the Byzantine
chronicler Georgius Syncellus (c. 800) wrote that Asamόnaios was
Mattathias’ additional name. Surely, this was just a conjecture by the chronicler or whatever source was before him.
[23] The additional names for the sons were: Makkabaios
(Μακκαβαîος),  Gaddi (Γαδδι), Thassi (Θασσι), Auaran (Αυαραν) and Apphous (Απφους). These were the names for Judah, John, Simon, Eleazar and Jonathan, respectively. See I Macc. 2:2-4.
[24] See, e.g., Goldstein, pp. 18-19.  Goldstein also writes (p. 19): Our pattern of given name(s) plus surname did not exist among ancient Jews, who bore only a given name. The names of Mattathias and his sons were extremely common in Jewish priestly families. Where many persons in a society bear the same name, there must be some way to distinguish one from another. Often the way is to add to the over-common given name other names or epithets. These additional appellations may describe the person or his feats or his ancestry or his place of origin; they may even be taunt-epithets. The names Mattityah and Mattiyahu do occur in Tanakh, at I Ch. 9:31, 15:18, 15:21, 16:5, 25:3, 25:21, Ezra 10:43, and Nehemiah 8:4. But to say that these names were common prior to the valorous deeds of Mattathias and his sons is still conjectural. (Admittedly, the names did become common thereafter.)
[25]  See, e.g.,
Daniel R. Schwartz, “The other in 1 and 2 Maccabees,” in Tolerance and Intolerance in Early Judaism and Christianity, eds. Graham N. Stanton and Guy G. Stroumsa (1998), p. 30, Gafni, pp. 119 and 131 n. 49,  and Goldstein,  pp. 7 and 12. See particularly I Macc. 5:62. As mentioned earlier, I Maccabees was probably composed after the death of John Hyrcanus in 104 BCE, or at least when his reign was well-advanced. See I Macc. 16:23-24.
[26] According to I Macc. 2:1, Mattathias was from the priestly watch of Yehoyariv. Of course, even if he would have been from the watch of Yedayah, the rule of his descendants would have needed legitimization because they were priests and not from the tribe of Judah or the Davidic line.
[27] See, e.g., Goldstein, pp. 5-7 and I Macc. 2:26 and 2:54. Of course, the parallel to Pinchas is not perfect. As a result of his zealousness, Pinchas became a priest; he did not become the high priest.
[28]
Goldstein, pp. 17-19. Josephus, writing after the destruction of the Temple and not attempting to legitimize the dynasty, would not have had this concern. (I am hesitant to agree with Goldstein on anything, as his editions of I and II Maccabees are filled with far-reaching speculations. Nevertheless, I am willing to take his suggestion seriously here.)
[29] As mentioned earlier, the identification by Josephus of
Chashmonai as the great-grandfather of Mattathias is probably just speculation.
[30] It has been suggested that it was the name of an
ancestor. See, e.g., H. St. J. Thackeray, ed., Josephus: Life
(Loeb Classical Library, 1926), p. 3, who theorizes that the Hasmoneans were named after “an eponymous hero Hashmon.” Julius Wellhausen theorized that, at I Macc. 2:1, the original reading was “son of Hashmon,” and not “son of Simon.”
See Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, revised and edited by Geza Vermes, Fergus Millar, and Matthew Black, vol. 1 (1973),  p. 194, n. 14.
[31] See I Macc. 2:70, 9:19, and  13:25.
[32]  See, e.g., Isaac Baer, Avodat Yisrael (1868), p. 101, EJ  7:1455, and Chanukah (ArtScroll Mesorah Series, 1981), p. 68.
[33] See, e.g., EJ 7:1455.  Another less likely alternative is to link the name with Chushim of the tribe of Benjamin, mentioned at I Ch. 8:11.
[34] The probable implication of the second part of verse
32 is that the people of Kush will hasten to spread their hands in prayer, or hasten to bring gifts with their hands. See Daat Mikra to 68:32.
[35] This is raised as a possibility by many scholars. Some of the rabbinic commentaries that suggest this include R. Abraham Ibn Ezra and Radak. See their commentaries on Ps. 68:32. See also Radak, Sefer ha-Shoreshim,חשמן , and R. Yosef Caro, Beit Yosef, OH 682. The unknown author of Maoz Tzur also seems to adopt this approach (perhaps only because he was trying to rhyme with השמנים).
[36] Some scholars are willing to emend the text. See, for example, the suggested emendations at Encyclopedia Mikrait 3:317,  entry חשמנים (such as משמנים = from the oil.) The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon (1906) writes that there is “doubtless” a textual error here.
[37] So too, Origen (third century). Some Rishonim interpret the termחשמנים  here as rulers or people of importance. See, e.g., the commentaries on Psalms 68:32 of Ibn Ezra (סגנים) and Radak. See also Radak, Sefer ha-Shoreshim, חשמן
,
and  R. Yosef Caro, Beit Yosef, OH 682. What motivates this interpretation is the use of the term in connection with Mattathias. But we do not know the meaning of the term in connection with Mattathias.
   [38] See Pes. 118b (דורון). Perhaps supporting this is verse 68:30 (lekha yovilu melakhim shai).  See Rashbam to Pes. 118b. Also, the interpretation מנות דורונות is found at Midrash Tehillim (ed. Buber, p. 320). It also seems to be the view of Rashi.
[39] On the Egyptian word ḥsmn as bronze or natron,
and reading one of these into this verse, see William F. Albright, “A Catalogue of Early Hebrew Lyric Poems,” Hebrew Union College Annual 23 (1950-51), pp. 33-34. Jeremy Black, “Amethysts,” Iraq 63 (2001), pp. 183-186, explains that ḥsmn also has the meaning amethyst in Egyptian. But he does not read this into Ps. 68:32. (He reads it into the Biblical  חשמל.)
[40] See, e.g., Black, ibid., and Itamar Singer, “Purple-Dyers
in Lazpa,” kubaba.univ-paris1.fr/recherche/antiquite/atlanta.pdf.
[41] Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew
and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament
(1994),  vol. 1, p. 362, interpret “bronze articles or red cloths.” Mitchell Dahood, Psalms II:51-100 (Anchor Bible, 1968) interprets “blue cloth.”
    Based on the Akkadian, George Wolf suggests that חשמנים refers to nobles and high officials because they wore purple clothing. See his Studies in the Hebrew Bible and Early Rabbinic Judaism (1994), p. 94
[42] For “oil,” see Encyclopedia Mikrait 3:317,
entry חשמנים (one of the many possible interpretations mentioned there).  For “horses and chariots,” see Daat Mikra to 68:32 (citing the scholar Arnold Ehrlich and the reference to the coming of
horses and chariots at Is. 66:20).
[43] See Is. 59:10  באשמנים (in the ashmanim).
[44] Ernest Klein,  A
Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language for Readers of English
(1987), p. 58, writes that it usually translated as “darkness.” Some Rishonim who adopt this interpretation are Menachem ben Saruk (quoted in Rashi) and Ibn Janach. Note also the parallel to Psalms 143:3. On the other hand, the parallel to בצהרים at Is. 59:10 suggests that the meaning of  באשמנים is “in the light,” as argued by
Solomon Mandelkern in his concordance Heikhal ha-Kodesh (1896), p. 158.
[45] See Midrash Tehillim (ed. Buber, p. 320):  שחורים
אנשים.  This is the fourth interpretation suggested there. Buber puts the second, third, and fourth interpretations in parenthesis, as he believes they were not in the original text. The first interpretation is  מנות דורונות. The second and third interpretations are farfetched plays on words.
     Also, the original reading in the Targum Pseudo-Jonathan translation of חשמנים seems to be אוכמנא or אוכמנאי,    meaning “dark people.” See David M. Stec, The Targum of Psalms (2004) p. 133. The standard printed editions have a different reading (based on an early printed edition) and imply that חשמנים was the name of a particular Egyptian tribe.
[46] See Mandelkern, p. 433, who cites this view even though he disagrees with it.
[47] A modern scholar who takes this approach is Menachem
Tzvi Kadari. See his Millon ha-Ivrit ha-Mikrait (2006). This also seems to be the approach taken in the standard printed edition of the Targum Pseudo-Jonathan, even though this does not seem to be the original reading. See also Rashi to Ps. 68:32, citing Menachem ben Saruk who claims that they are the residents of  Chashmonah. See also Radak, Sefer ha-Shoreshim, חשמן (second suggestion) and Mandelkern, p. 433.
     Gen. 10:14 mentions כסלחים as one of
the sons of Mitzrayim. Interestingly, one of the three early texts of
the Septuagint (codex Alexandrinus, fifth cent.) reads Χασμωνιειμ
(=Chasmonieim) here. If this were the original reading, this would suggest that there were a people called Hashmanim (or something similar) in second century B.C.E. Egypt. But the Sinaiticus and Vaticanus codices (which are earlier than the Alexandrinus codex) do not have this reading; they have something closer to the Hebrew. Most likely, the reading in the Alexandrinus codex is just a later textual corruption. See John William Wevers, Notes on the Greek Text of Genesis (1993), p. 136.
[48] See similarly Deut. 33:21, Proverbs 1:27, Isaiah 41:5
and 41:25, and Job 3:25, 16:22, 30:14, and 37:22.
[49] The Kaufmann manuscript dates to the tenth or eleventh century. The Parma (De Rossi 138) manuscript dates to the eleventh century. The vocalization in both was inserted later. In the Kaufmann manuscript, there is a patach under the nun and a chirik under the first yod. Also, the vav is dotted with a shuruk. (The Parma manuscript does not have vocalization in tractate Middot; the manuscript is not vocalized throughout.).
     The Leiden manuscript of the Jerusalem Talmud includes a chirik under the nun in the passage in Taanit (66a). See Zusman’s 2001 edition of the Leiden manuscript, p. 717. There is no vocalization under the nun in the passage in Megillah (70c).
[50] חשמונאי is the spelling in all but one of the manuscripts and early printed editions of Seder Olam. One manuscript spells the name חשמוני. See  Chaim Joseph Milikowsky, Seder Olam: A Rabbinic Chronography (1981), p. 440.
     Also, חשמוניי  is the spelling in the text of Pesikta de-Rav Kahana that was published by Bernard Mandelbaum in his critical edition of this work (p. 107). (But see the notes for the variant readings.) Also, חשמוניי  is the spelling in the text of the Theodor-Albeck edition of Bereshit Rabbah, at section 97 (p. 1225). (But see the notes for the variant readings.). See also ibid., p. 1274, note to line 6 (חשמניי).
     Also, Lieberman-institute.com cites one manuscript of Menachot 64b with the spelling  חשמוניי. This is also the spelling used by R. Eleazar Kallir (early seventh century). See his piyyut for Chanukkah לצלעי נכון איד (to be published by Ophir Münz-Manor).
[51] I would like to thank Prof. Richard Steiner for pointing this out to me.
[52] Jastrow, entry חשמונאי, cites the plural as appearing in some editions of Bava Kama 82b (but not in the Vilna edition.) Lieberman-institute.com presently records five manuscripts of Bava Kama 82b. All have the word in the singular here. The EJ (7:1454) has an entry “Hasmonean Bet Din.” The entry has a Hebrew title as well: חשמונאים של דין בית. The entry cites to Sanhedrin 82a and Avodah Zarah 36b, and refers to “the court of the Hasmoneans.” (In the new edition of the EJ, the same entry is republished.) Yet none of the manuscripts presently recorded at Lieberman-institute.com on these two passages have the plural.
(Lieberman-institute.com presently records two manuscripts of Sanhedrin 82a and three manuscripts of Avodah Zarah 36b. According to Zusman, Otzar Kivei Ha-Yad Ha-Talmudiyyim, vol. 3, p. 233 and 235, there are three more manuscripts of Sanhedrin 82a extant. I have not checked these.)
     Probably, the reason for the use of the plural in the EJ entry is that scholars began to use the plural for this mysterious bet din, despite the two references in Talmud being in the singular. See, e.g., Zacharias Frankel, Darkhei ha-Mishnah (1859), p. 43.  Other erroneous citations to a supposed word חשמונאים are found at Chanukah (ArtScroll Mesorah Series), p. 68, n. 6.
[53] The earliest references to this plural that I am are
aware of are at Midrash Tehillim  5:11
(ובניו  חשמונאים),  and 93:1 (חשמונאים בני). But it is possible that
חשמונאים may not be the original reading in either of these
passages. The reference at 5:11 is obviously problematic. Also, the line may be a later addition to the work. See Midrash Tehillim, ed. Buber, p. 56, n. 66. (This work also refers to חשמונאי בית  and ובניו חשמונאי. See 22:9, 30:6, and 36:6.) The next earliest use of this plural that I am aware of is at Bereshit Rabbati, section Vayechi, p. 253 (ed. Albeck): חשמונאים בני. This work is generally viewed as an adaptation of an earlier (lost) work by R. Moshe ha-Darshan (11th cent.)
[54] חשמונים is found in the piyyut שמנה כל אעדיף   by R. Eleazar
Kallir (early seventh century) and in the works of several eighth century paytannim as well. Perhaps even earlier are the references in Seder Olam Zuta. See, e.g., the text of this work published by Adolf Neubauer in his Seder ha-Chakhamim ve-Korot ha-Yamim, vol. 2 (1895), pp. 71, 74 and 75. See also the Theodor-Albeck edition of Bereshit Rabbah, section 97, p. 1225, notes to line 2, recording a variant with the reading חשמונים. Also, Yosippon always refers to the חשמונים when referring to the group in the plural. (In the singular, his references are to חשמונאי and חשמוניי.) Also, Lieberman-institute.com
cites one manuscript of Megillah 6a (Columbia X 893 T 141) with the reading חשמונים.
[55] See his Jewish War, II, 344, and V, 139, and Antiquities
XV,403 (Loeb edition, p. 194, but see n. 1).
[56] It is interesting that a similar development occurred
in connection with the name “Maccabee.” The name was originally an additional name of Judah only. Centuries later, all of the brothers came to be referred to by the early church fathers as “Maccabees.” See Goldstein, pp. 3-4.
[57] See, e.g., Allen Friedman, “The Amida’s Biblical and Historical Roots: Some New Perspectives,” Tradition 45:3 (2012), pp.  21-34, and the many references there. Friedman writes (pp. 26-27): The first two points to be noted concerning the Amida’s history are that: (1) R. Gamliel and his colleagues in late first-century CE Yavneh created the institution of the Amida, its nineteen particular subjects, and the order of those subjects, though not their fully-fixed text, and (2) this creation was a critical part of the Rabbinic response to the great theological challenge posed by the Second Temple’s destruction and the ensuing exile…See also Berakhot 28b.
[58] Admittedly, this view disagrees with Megillah 17b which attributes the Shemoneh Esreh of eighteen blessings to an ancient group of 120 elders that included some prophets (probably an equivalent term for the Men of the Great Assembly.) But note that according to Megillah 18a, the eighteen blessings were initially instituted by the 120 elders, but were forgotten and later restored in the time of R. Gamliel and Yavneh. See also Berakhot 33a, which attributes the enactment of  תפילות to the Men
of the Great Assembly.
[59] See, e.g., the discussion by Joseph Tabory in
“Prayers and Berakhot,” in The Literature of the Sages, vol. 2, pp.
295-96 and 315-316. Tabory points to disagreements recorded between the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai regarding the number of blessings in the Amidot for Yom Tov and Rosh ha-Shanah when these fall on the Sabbath. See Tosefta Rosh ha-Shanah 2:16 and Tosefta Berakhot 3:13. Disagreements between the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai typically (but not exclusively) date to the last decades of the Temple period. See EJ 4:738. The reference to Choni ha-Katan in the story at Tosefta Rosh ha-Shanah also perhaps supports the antiquity of the disagreement. (This individual is not mentioned elsewhere in
Tannaitic or Amoraic literature.)
[60] With regard to Birkat ha-Mazon, the practice
of reciting Al ha-Nissim here seems to only have commenced in the Amoraic period. See Shabbat 24a.
[61] The first two words of the Palestinian version, פלאיך וכניסי, are also referred to in שמנה כל אעדיף, a Chanukkah piyyut by R. Eleazar Kallir (early seventh century).
[62] Early authorship of Al ha-Nissim is suggested
by the fact that some of its language resembles language in I and II Macc. See particularly I Macc. 1:49, 3:17-20, 4:24, 4:43, 4:55, and II Macc. 1:17 and 10:7. See also perhaps I Macc. 4:59. The original Hebrew version of I Macc. was still in existence at the time of Jerome (4th century). See  Goldstein,
p. 16.
[63] It has already been pointed out that Josephus, having I Maccabees 2:1 in front of him (=Mattathias was the son of  John who was the son of  Simon), was faced with a similar problem. The
solution of Josephus was to conjecture that Chashmonai was the father of
Simon.
[64] I Macc. 2:2-4 states explicitly that Mattathias had
five sons: John, Simon, Judah, Eleazar and Jonathan. Another brother, Ιωσηπον (=Joseph), is mentioned at II Macc. 8:22.But it has been suggested that the original reading here was Ιωαννης (=John), or that Joseph was only a
half-brother, sharing only a mother.



Le-Tacen Olam (לתכן עולם): Establishing the Correct Text in Aleinu

Le-Tacen Olam (עולם לתכן): Establishing the Correct Text in Aleinu[1]
By Mitchell First (mfirstatty@aol.com)
 
                    The Jewish obligation of עולם תקון (=improving the world) is widely referred to and it is traditionally assumed that the Aleinu prayer is one of the texts upon which this obligation is based.
                    This article will show that a very strong case can be made that the original version of Aleinu read עולם לתכן (=to establish the world under God’s sovereignty), and not עולם לתקן (=to perfect/improve the world under God’s sovereignty[2]). If so, the concept of עולם תקון has no connection to the Aleinu prayer.[3]
—–
                    It is reasonable to assume that Aleinu was already included in the Amidah of Rosh ha-Shanah (=RH) by the time of Rav (early 3rd century C.E.).[4] But no text of Aleinu is included in the Talmud, nor is a text of Aleinu included in any of the classical midrashim.[5] Therefore, we must look to later sources for texts of Aleinu.
                     When we do, we find that the reading לתכן is found in the text of the RH Amidah in the Siddur Rav Saadiah Gaon (d. 942),[6] and in the text of the RH Amidah in the Mishneh Torah of the Rambam (d. 1204).[7] Moreover, it is found in numerous prayer texts from the Cairo Genizah that include this line of Aleinu.[8] For example, it is found in: 1) a fragment of the RH Amidah first published by Jacob Mann in 1925;[9] 2) a fragment of the RH Amidah first published by Richard Gottheil and William H. Worrell in 1927;[10] 3) a fragment of the RH Amidah first published by Mordecai Margaliot in 1973;[11] and 4) a fragment of Aleinu first published by Mann in 1925.[12] It is found in many other Aleinu prayer texts from the Cairo Genizah as well.[13] (In the fragment of Aleinu first published by Mann in 1925, Aleinu is included in the Pesukei de-Zimra section of the Palestinian shaḥarit ritual.[14])
                     Furthermore, the reading לתכן survives in Yemenite siddurim to this day. It was also the reading in the original tradition of the Jews of Persia.[15]
                    Admittedly, the reading in Europe since the time of the Rishonim has been לתקן. See, for example, the following texts of Aleinu:
                      – Maḥzor Vitry of R. Simḥah of Vitry (daily shaḥarit and RH);[16]
                      – Siddur Ḥasidei Ashkenaz (daily shaḥarit and RH);[17]
                      –Peirush ha-Tefillot ve-ha-Berakhot of R. Judah b. Yakar (RH);[18]
                      –Peirushei Siddur ha-Tefillah of R. Eleazar b. Judah of Worms (RH);[19] and
                      –Sefer Arugat ha-Bosem of R. Abraham b. Azriel (RH).[20]
                   The three main manuscripts of Seder Rav Amram Gaon also read לתקן.[21] But these manuscripts are not from the time of R. Amram (d. 875); they are European manuscripts from the time of the later Rishonim.[22]
                   Earlier than Maḥzor Vitry, we have circumstantial evidence for the reading לתקן in comments on Aleinu that were probably composed by R. Eliezer b. Nathan of Mainz (c. 1090-1170). Here, in Hamburg MS 153,[23] the following explanatory comment about Aleinu is expressed (without a text of the line itself): [24] …בשמך יקראו וכולם מלכותך מתקנים העולם כל ויהיו
                   Another manuscript also largely composed of the comments of R. Eliezer b. Nathan has essentially this same reading, in two places.[25] Another manuscript, which is probably the Siddur of R. Eliezer b. Nathan, has a similar reading: [26] …בשמך  יקראו  וכולם .במלכותך  מתקנים  העולם כל  ויהיו
                    Admittedly, it cannot be proven that לתכן was the original reading. But this seems very likely, as לתכן is by far the better reading in the context. This can be seen by looking at all the other scenarios that are longed for in this section:
                                 הארץ מן  גילולים להעביר עוזך בתפארת  מהרה לראות י-שד במלכות  עולם לתקן /לתכן  יכרתון כרות  והאלילים ארץ רשעי כל אליך  להפנותבשמך יקראו בשר בני וכל יכירו וידעו כל יושבי תבל כי לך תכרע כל ברך תשבע כל לשון ולכבוד שמך יקר יתנו יכרעו ויפולו אלקינו ה׳ לפניך   ותמלוך עליהם מהרה לעולם ועד עול מלכותך את ויקבלו כולם בכבוד תמלוך עד ולעולמי היא שלך  כי המלכות
             Beginning with the second line, להעביר, every clause expresses a hope for either the removal of other gods or the universal acceptance of our God. With regard to the first line, properly understood and its mystical and elevated language decoded,[27] it is almost certainly a request for the speedily rebuilding of the Temple.[28] Taken together, this whole section is a prayer for the rebuilding of the Temple and the establishment of God’s kingdom on earth. This fits the reading לתכן perfectly.[29]
             It is appropriate that this section of Aleinu is fundmentally a prayer for the establishment of God’s kingdom on earth. Most likely, this section was composed as an introduction to the malkhuyyot section of the RH Amidah.[30]
             Moreover, we can easily understand how an original reading of עולם לתכן might have evolved into עולם לתקן, a term related to the familiar term העולם תקון. The term העולם תקון (always with the definite article) is widespread in early rabbinic literature.[31] It is found thirteen times in the Mishnah, and seventeen times in the Babylonian Talmud.[32] The alternative scenario, that the original reading was עולם לתקן and that this evolved in some texts into the unusual reading עולם לתכן, is much less likely.[33]
              Finally, the ב of י-שד במלכות seems to fit better in י-שד במלכות עולם לתכן (=to establish the world under God’s sovereignty) than in either of the two ways of understanding י-שד במלכות עולם לתקן.[34] Also, the use of the word עולם instead of העולם and the lack of an את before the object עולם perhaps fit the reading לתכן better. I leave a detailed analysis of these aspects to grammarians.
                                                    Conclusion
             There is no question that social justice is an important value in Judaism.[35] Moreover, classical rabbinical literature includes many references to the concept of העולם תקון, both in the context of divorce legislation and in other contexts. The purpose of this article was only to show that is almost certainly a mistake to read such a concept into the Aleinu prayer, a prayer most likely composed as an introduction to the malkhuyyot section of the Amidah, and focused primarily on the goal of establishing God’s kingdom on earth. Even if we do not change the text of our siddurim, we should certainly have this alternate and almost certainly original reading in mind as we recite this prayer.[36]

 

[1]  This essay is a revision of Mitchell First, “Aleinu: Obligation to Fix the World or the Text,” Ḥakirah 11 (Spring 2011), pp. 187-197, available here.
   I would like to thank Yehiel Levy for showing me his Yemenite siddur which read לתכן and inspired this research. I would like to thank R. Moshe Yasgur for sharing his thoughts and for always being willing to listen to mine. I would also like to acknowledge the assistance of Dr. Ezra Chwat of the Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts at the Jewish National and Hebrew University Library, and the assistance of Binyamin Goldstein. Finally, I would like to dedicate this article to my beloved wife Sharon, whose name has the gematria of תקון and who needs no improvement.
[2] The above is how this phrase is usually translated. But The Complete ArtScroll Siddur, p. 161, translates: “to perfect the universe through the Almighty’s sovereignty.” Others adopt this translation as well. See e.g., J. David Bleich, “Tikkun Olam: Jewish Obligations to Non-Jewish Society,” in Tikkun Olam: Social Responsibility in Jewish Thought and Law, eds. David Shatz, Chaim I. Waxman, and Nathan J. Diament, Northvale, N.J.: Jason Aronson, 1997, p. 61.
[3] One scholar who intuited that the original reading may have been לתכן is Meir Bar-Ilan. See his “Mekorah shel Tefillat ‘Aleinu le-Shabeaḥ,’ ” Daat 43 (1999), p. 20, n. 72.
   The articles by Gerald Blidstein and J. David Bleich in Tikkun Olam: Social Responsibility in Jewish Thought and Law assume that the reading is לתקן (see pp. 26, 61 and 98). But the article in this volume by Marc Stern mentions the alternate reading of לתכן, citing R. Saadiah (see p. 165, n. 24).
    In 2005, Gilbert S. Rosenthal wrote a detailed article about the concept of tikkun olam throughout the ages and merely assumed that the reading in Aleinu is לתקן. See his “Tikkun ha-Olam: The Metamorphosis of a Concept,” Journal of Religion 85:2 (2005), pp. 214-40.
[4]  The Jerusalem Talmud, at Avodah Zarah 1:2, includes the following passage: א”ר יוסי בי רבי בון מאן סבר בראש השנה נברא העולם?  רב,  דתני בתקיעתא דבי רב זה היום תחילת מעשיך זכרון ליום ראשון וכו’.   A very similar passage is found at J. Talmud Rosh ha-Shanah 1:3 (where the reading is בתקיעתא דרב).
The sentence from the liturgy referred to (…זה היום) is from the introductory section to the ten verses of zikhronot. A reasonable inference from these Talmudic passages is that Rav composed (at least) the introductory sections to zikhronot, malkhuyyot and shofarot. Aleinu
is part of the introductory section to malkhuyyot. Since the sentence from the introduction to zikhronot quoted corresponds to the present
introduction to zikhronot, it is reasonable to assume that their introduction to malkhuyyot corresponded to the present introduction to malkhuyyot, i.e., that it included Aleinu. Admittedly, Rav could have made use of older material in the introductory sections he composed. The fact that Aleinu has been found (in a modified version) in heikhalot literature is some evidence for Aleinu’s existence in this early period, even though the prayer is not specifically mentioned in any Mishnaic or Talmudic source. (Regarding the dating of heikhalot literature, see below.) On the version of Aleinu in heikhalot literature, see Michael D. Swartz,  “ ‘Alay Le-Shabbeaḥ: A Liturgical Prayer in Ma‘aseh Merkabah,” Jewish Quarterly Review 77 (1986-1987), pp. 179-190. See also the article by Bar-Ilan cited above. For parallels in later sources to the two passages from the Jerusalem Talmud, see Swartz, p. 186, n. 20. See also Rosh ha-Shanah 27a.
      A statement that Aleinu was composed by Joshua appears in a collection of Geonic responsa known as Shaarei Teshuvah (responsum #44). But the statement was probably a later addition by the thirteenth century kabbalist Moses de Leon. See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Hai Gaon’s Letter and Commentary on ‘Aleynu: Further Evidence of Moses De León’s Pseudepigraphic Activity,” Jewish Quarterly Review 81 (1990-91),
pp. 379-380. Statements that Aleinu was composed by Joshua are found in various Ashkenazic Rishonim. This idea seems to have originated with R. Judah he-Hasid (d. 1217).  For the references, see Wolfson, pp. 380-381.
        There is much evidence that Aleinu could not have been composed by Joshua. For example: 1) Aleinu cites verses from the prophet Isaiah (this will be discussed below); 2) ha-kadosh barukh hu was not an appellation for God in Biblical times; and 3) terms are found in Aleinu that are characteristic of heikhalot literature. Also, for almost the entire Biblical period, the word olam is only a time-related word. It is not until Dan. 12:7 and perhaps Eccles. 3:11 that olam means “world” in the Bible. (Olam definitely means “world” at Ben Sira 3:18.) See Kirsten A. Fudeman and Mayer I. Gruber, “ ‘Eternal King/King of the World’ From the Bronze Age to Modern Times: A Study in Lexical Semantics,” Revue des études juives 166 (2007), pp. 209-242. See also Daat Mikra, comm. to Psalms 89:3 and Eccles. 3:11, and R. Abraham Ibn Ezra, comm. to Ex. 21:6 and Eccles. 3:11. (Based on the language of the book, it is
very clear that Ecclesiastes is a late Biblical book See EJ 2:349.)
         Regarding the roots תקן and תכן, the root תקן does not appear in Tanakh until the book of Ecclesiastes, and the root תכן probably did not mean “establish” in the period of the Tanakh (see below).
[5] As noted, Aleinu has been found (in a modified form) in heikhalot literature. There are five manuscripts that include the relevant passage. But four of these only include Aleinu in an abbreviated form and are not long enough to include the phrase עולם לתקן/לתכן. See Peter Schäfer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1981, sec. 551, pp. 206-207. The only manuscript that includes the phrase reads לתקן. But this manuscript, N8128, dates from around 1500. See Ra‘anan S. Boustan, “The Study of Heikhalot Literature: Between Mystical Experience and Textual Artifact,” Currents in Biblical Research 6.1 (2007), p. 137.
    Regarding the dating of heikhalot literature, Bar-Ilan (Mekorah, p. 22, n. 85) estimates this literature as dating from the third through fifth centuries. See also more recently his “Shalshelet ha-Kabbalah be-Sifrut ha-Heikhalot,Daat 56 (2005), pp. 5-37. Moshe Idel, in the second edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica (11:592) summarizes the subject as follows: Even though it is quite possible that some of the texts were
not edited until this period [=the geonic era], there is no doubt that large sections originated in talmudic times, and that the central ideas, as well as many details, go back as far as the first and second centuries.
[6] Siddur Rav Saadiah Gaon, eds. Israel Davidson, Simḥah Assaf, and Yissakhar Joel, Jerusalem: Rubin Mass, 1941, p. 221. Admittedly, the manuscript which forms the basis for this edition was not composed by R. Saadiah himself. It is estimated to date to the twelfth or thirteenth century.
Neither R. Saadiah nor Rambam recited Aleinu in the daily service.
[7] See the Seder Tefillot Kol ha-Shanah section at the end of Sefer Ahavah. I have looked at the Or ve-Yeshuah edition, the Frankel
edition, the Mechon Mamre edition (www.mechon-mamre.org), and the editions published by R. Yitzḥak Sheilat and by R. Yosef Kafaḥ. All
print לתכן. (The Frankel edition does note that a small number of manuscripts read לתקן.)
    In the standard printed Mishneh Torah, in the al kein nekaveh section of the RH Amidah (Sefer Ahavah, p. 154), only the first ten words were included (up to עוזך),  followed by a וכו׳.
[8] Most of the texts from the Cairo Genizah date from the tenth through the thirteenth centuries. See Robert Brody, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1998, p. 32. All of the texts from the Cairo Genizah that I refer to can be seen at genizah.org.
[9] See his “Genizah Fragments of the Palestinian Order of Service,” Hebrew Union College Annual 2 (1925), p. 329. The fragment
is known as Cambridge Add. 3160, no. 10. When Mann published the fragment, he erroneously printed לתקן.
[10] See their Fragments from the Cairo Genizah in the Freer Collection, New York: The MacMillan Company, 1927, plate XLIII (opposite p. 194). The fragment is labeled F42 at genizah.org.
[11] See his Hilkhot Ereẓ Yisrael min ha-Genizah, Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1973, p. 148. The fragment is known as Cambridge T-S 8H23.1.
[12] See above, pp. 324-325. See also, more recently, Ezra Fleischer, Tefillah u-Minhegey Tefillah Ereẓ-Yisre’eliyyim bi-Tekufat ha-Genizah, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1988, p. 238. The fragment is known as Cambridge Add. 3160,  no. 5. Neither Mann nor Fleischer printed the full text of Aleinu in this fragment.
[13] See the following fragments: Cambridge Or. 1080 2.46; Cambridge T-S Misc. 10.27, 34.5, and 34.23; Cambridge T-S NS 150.235, 154.19, 155.23, 157.6, 157.37, 157.176, 158.69, 195.55, and 273.38; Cambridge T-S AS 101.64; and New York ENA 1878.8. I was able to find only one fragment that read לתקן: Cambridge T-S NS 122.33. (An interesting fragment is T-S NS 153.64, 8R. Here, only the top line of the letter remains and it is hard to determine if it is the top of a כ or the top of a ק.)
    I have been able to examine most of the Aleinu prayer text fragments from the Cairo Genizah. I would like to thank Prof. Uri Ehrlich of Ben Gurion University of the Negev for referring me to them. (Not all of these Aleinu prayer text fragments were long enough to include the relevant passage.)
[14] Since the second word of the Aleinu prayer is לשבח, it was probably seen as fitting to include this prayer in the Pesukei de-Zimra section. A main theme of both Barukh she-Amar and Yishtabaḥ, as well as of the entire Pesukei de-Zimra, is שבח. See also Ber. 32a: le-olam yesader adam shivḥo shel HKBH ve-aḥar kakh yitpallel.
     A Palestinian practice of reciting Aleinu in Pesukei de-Zimra may also explain a statement found in several Rishonim (e.g., Sefer ha-Maḥkim, Kol Bo, and Orḥot Ḥayyim) in the name of Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer (a work composed in eighth century Palestine): מעומד לאומרו צריך לכך לשבח בעלינו יש גדול שבח. The statement is obviously not giving an instruction regarding the RH Amidah recited by individuals. Nor does the language of the statement (לאומרו) fit as an instruction to individuals listening to the repetition of the RH Amidah. The recital of Aleinu in a context outside of the Amidah seems to be referred to. (The statement is not found in the surviving texts of Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer.)
[15] See Shelomoh Tal, Nusaḥ ha-Tefillah shel Yehudei Paras, Jerusalem: Makhon Ben Ẓvi, 1981, p. 154 (RH). The Persian-Jewish prayer ritual followed that of R. Saadiah in many respects. At the end of the eighteenth century the Persian Jews were influenced to adopt a Sefardic prayer ritual and their own ritual was forgotten.
[16] Ed. Aryeh Goldschmidt, Jerusalem: Makhon Oẓar ha-Poskim, 2004, pp. 131 (daily shaḥarit) and 717 (RH). The earliest surviving manuscript of Maḥzor Vitry dates to the first half of the 12th century.
[17] Ed. Moshe Hirschler, Jerusalem, 1972, p. 125 (daily shaḥarit), and p. 214 (RH). (This work was published by Hirschler together with another work, Siddur Rabbenu Shelomoh; both are integrated into the same volume.) Siddur Ḥasidei Ashkenaz was compiled by the students of R. Judah he-Hasid (d. 1217) and presumably reflects his text of Aleinu.  Hirschler’s edition of this siddur is based on several manuscripts.
[18] Ed. Samuel Yerushalmi, Jerusalem: Meorei Yisrael, 1979, sec. 2, pp. 91-92. R. Judah flourished in Spain and died in the early thirteenth century. Aside from the text of Aleinu in the manuscript published by Yerushalmi including the reading לתקן, it is also clear from the various explanatory comments by R. Judah that he was working with a text that read לתקן.
[19]Ed. Moshe Hirschler, Jerusalem: Makhon Harav Hirschler, 1992, p. 659. R. Eleazar died circa 1230. The text of Aleinu is found in his commentary to the Aleinu of RH. In his commentary on the daily shaḥarit, only the first two words of Aleinu and the last two (timlokh be-kavod) are recorded. In his Sefer ha-Rokeaḥ, his references to Aleinu in both the RH Amidah and the daily shaḥarit are similarly very brief.
[20] Ed. Ephraim E. Urbach, Jerusalem: Mekiẓei Nirdamim, 1963, vol. 3, pp. 469-470. Sefer Arugat ha-Bosem was composed in 1234, in Bohemia. Aside from the text of Aleinu published here including the word לתקן, it is clear from R. Abraham’s explanatory comment (p. 469, lines 8-9) that he was working with a text that read לתקן.
     Other early European texts of Aleinu include the three texts of Aleinu in manuscript Oxford, Corpus Christi College 133 (late twelfth century; daily, RH and one other) and the text of Aleinu in manuscript Cambridge Add. 667.1 (early thirteenth century, daily). The former has לתקן in the first two; the third Aleinu does not include the second paragraph. I have not been able to check the reading in Cambridge Add. 667.1.
[21] See Seder Rav Amram Gaon, ed. Daniel Goldschmidt, Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1971, p. 142.
[22] Ibid., introduction, pp. 11-13. A few fragments of the Seder Rav Amram Gaon have been found in the Genizah, but these are very short and do not include our passage.
[23] This manuscript is generally considered to be largely composed of the comments of R. Eliezer b. Nathan.    See, e.g., Urbach, Sefer Arugat ha-Bosem, vol. 4, p. 24 and the facsimile edition of this manuscript published by Abraham Naftali Ẓvi Rot, Jerusalem: 1980, pp. 21-30. The manuscript itself is estimated to have been copied in the fourteenth century (Rot, p. 21).
[24] See Rot, p. 20a (comm. to RH Aleinu).
[25] See Alter Yehudah Hirschler, “Peirush Siddur ha-Tefillah ve-ha-Maḥzor Meyuḥas le-Rabbi Eliezer ben Natan mi-Magenza (ha-Ravan),” Genuzot vol. 3, Jerusalem:1991, pp. 1-128.  In this siddur commentary (pp. 78 and 114), בשמך  יקראו  וכלם  מלכותך ‘מתקני  העולם כל ויהיו is found in the commentary to daily Aleinu in shaḥarit, and בשמך  יקראו  וכלם מלכותך מתקנין העולם כל ויהיו is found in the commentary to RH Aleinu (One should not deduce from this manuscript that R. Eliezer b. Nathan recited Aleinu daily in shaḥarit.)
[26] See Siddur Rabbenu Shelomoh, p. 212 (commentary on RH Aleinu). Hirschler published this work as the siddur of Shelomoh b. R. Shimson of Worms (1030-1096), but it is probably that of R. Eliezer b. Nathan. See, e.g., Avraham Grossman, Ḥakhmei Ashkenaz ha-Rishonim, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2001, pp. 346-348.
[27] Gershom Scholem recognized long ago that Aleinu includes several terms that are not only post-Biblical, but are characteristic of heikhalot literature. See his Jewish Gnosticism, Merkabah Mysticism and Talmudic Tradition, New York: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1965 (2d. ed.), pp. 27-28. He points to the terms yoẓer bereshit, moshav yekaro, and shekhinat uzo. Meir Bar-Ilan (Mekorah, p. 8) also points to the term adon ha-kol. All of this suggests that Aleinu was composed by someone with some connection to heikhalot literature, or composed at a time after terms originating in heikhalot literature came to be in normative rabbinic use. This explains how Aleinu easily came to be borrowed into heikhalot literature. Due to the common terms, the authors of this literature probably saw Aleinu as a text “related to their own hymnology.” Scholem, p. 28.
     In heikhalot literature, Aleinu is found in the singular form לשבח עלי, as a prayer of gratitude purportedly recited by R. Akiva on return from a safe journey to heaven. See the article by Swartz referred to above. (R. Akiva and R. Ishmael serve as central pillars and chief mouthpieces in this pseudepigraphic literature. See EJ 11:591, 2d. ed.).
     Meir Bar-Ilan, Mekorah, pp. 12-24, argues that Aleinu originated in heikhalot literature in the singular, and was then changed to the plural and borrowed into the RH service. I disagree, as do many others. (Bar-Ilan does not claim that Aleinu originated as this prayer of gratitude purportedly recited by R. Akiva. This would be very unlikely. There are too many themes in Aleinu that are out of context and extraneous under the assumption that Aleinu originated as this prayer of gratitude.)
[28] The idiom is based on verses such as Psalms 78:60-61 (צר ויתן לשבי עזו ותפארתו ביד) and 96:6 (במקדשו ותפארת עז), and Isaiah 60:7 (אפאר תפארתי ובית) and 64:10 (ותפארתנו קדשנו בית). This interpretation is probably implicit in the commentary of R. Judah b. Yakar. On לראות מהרה בתפארת עוזך, he writes: פני לראות  ונזכה ,אתה  עוזמו  תפארת  כי  (שם על =) ע״ש  .אפאר תפארתך ובית דכתי׳  המקדש  בית  בתפארת  ולראות  שכינה  See the Peirush ha-Tefillot ve-ha-Berakhot of R. Judah b. Yakar, part II, p. 91. R. Judah’s statements are adopted by R. David Abudarham in his commentary to the Aleinu of RH. See also R. Shemtob Gaugine, Keter Shem Tov, Kėdainiai, 1934, p. 104. Unfortunately, this interpretation of the phrase תפארת עוזך has generally been overlooked. Numerous are scholars who have written that the prayer includes no request for the Temple’s rebuilding.
    Scholem (p. 28, n. 18) notes the following passage found in other heikhalot texts: .עזו בתפארת ומבורך הדרו במושב שמו ברוך The parallel to הדרו מושב strongly suggests that עזו תפארת represents the physical Temple in this passage. For heikhalot texts with this passage, see Mordecai Margaliot, Sefer ha-Razim, Jerusalem, 1966, pp. 107-09, and Martin Samuel Cohen, The Shi‘ur Qomah: Texts and Recensions, Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1985, pp. 173 and 175.
[29] The use of the root תכן to mean “establish” does require some explanation. In Tanakh, the root תכן means to “weigh,”
“examine,” “measure,” or “place in order.” (At Psalms 75:4, עמודיה תכנתי, the root is commonly translated as “establish,” but even here it probably means something like “properly apportion” or “place in order.” See, e.g., the commentary of S. R. Hirsch.) תכן with the meaning “establish” is not found in the Mishnah or Tosefta.  But תכן may mean “establish” in the Dead Sea text 4Q511: שנה למועדי תכן (DJD VII, p. 221), and perhaps in other Dead Sea texts as well.
     In paytanic literature, an early use of the root תכן to mean “establish” is found in the piyyut Emet Emunatkha (תכנת עולמך ימים בששת כי). This piyyut is preserved in the Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon (p. 110) and in several Genizah fragments. It has a tetrastichic structure (as does Aleinu), and is generally viewed as a pre-classical piyyut, i.e., a piyyut from the late Tannaitic/early Amoraic period. See, e.g., Ezra Fleischer, Ha-Yotzrot be-Hithavutam ve-Hitpaḥutam, Jerusalem: Magnes, 1984, p. 55, n. 47. The Academy of the Hebrew Language, in its Historical Dictionary Project database (Ma’agarim), estimates the date of composition of this piyyut as the late second century C.E.
      In the Musaf Amidah for shabbat, תקנת, not תכנת, may be the original reading. See, e.g., Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon, p. 112 and the Genizah fragment quoted by Fleischer, Tefillah u-Minhegey Tefillah, p. 52. (For more sources on this spelling issue, see Maḥzor Vitry, ed. Goldschmidt,  p. 199, n. 1.)
      Probably, the use of the root תכן to mean “establish” arose based on the usage of the root at Psalms 75:4, or perhaps from the words תכן and תכון (both from the root כון) found numerous times in the Tanakh (Jer. 30:20; Ps. 89:22, 93:1, 96:10, and 141:2; Prv. 12:19 and 20:18; I Kings 2:12; I Ch. 16:30; and II Ch. 8:16, 29:35, 35:10 and 35:16).
[30] Aside from the fact that the theme of the section fits as an introduction to verses of malkhuyyot, the section ends with four words from the root מלך: ותמלוך עליהם מהרה לעולם ועד עול מלכותך את ויקבלו כולם .בכבוד תמלוך עד ולעולמי היא שלך  כי המלכות
     I have little doubt that the first section of Aleinu (which includes the words melekh malkhei ha-melakhim and malkeinu) was also composed at the same time. This is contrary to the view of many scholars who point to the two separate themes in the two sections as evidence of different authors. Aleinu is a short prayer, and in the earliest texts of Aleinu there is no division into sections. Therefore, our
presumption should be one of unitary authorship. Close analysis of the verses cited shows that both sections quote or paraphrase from the same chapter of Isaiah (45:20: u-mitpallelim el el lo yoshia and 45:23: ki li tikhra kol berekh tishava kol lashon; there are quotes and paraphrases of other verses from chapter 45, and from 44:24 and 46:9 as well.) This strongly suggests that both sections were composed at the same time. (I have not seen anyone else make this point.) Terms characteristic of heikhalot literature are found in both sections as well.
        While it cannot be proven that Rav (early third century) was the author of Aleinu, it has been observed that “in some of Rav’s homilies a tendency to a certain mystical thinking is discernible.” See EJ 13:1578 and the citations there, as well as the following statement of Rav at Ber. 55a: .יודע היה בצלאל לצרף אותיות שנבראו בהן שמים וארץ  Also, several Talmudic passages record Rav’s authorship or contribution to the texts of other prayers. Most of these passages are collected at Ismar Elbogen, Jewish Liturgy: A Comprehensive History, tr. Raymond P. Scheindlin, New York: Jewish Publication Society and Jewish Theological Seminary, 1993, pp. 207-208. Most relevant is Ber.12b where the הקדוש המלך and המשפט המלך changes for the Ten Days of Repentance are recorded in the name of Rav.
       Most recently, Ruth Langer is another who believes that the evidence points to authorship of both paragraphs of Aleinu around the period of Rav. She writes: In literary style, it is consistent with the earliest forms of rabbinic-era liturgical poetry from the land of Israel… See Langer, “The Censorship of Aleinu in Ashkenaz and Its Aftermath,” in Debra Reed Blank, ed., The Experience of Jewish Liturgy: Studies Dedicated to Menahem Schmelzer, Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2011, pp. 148-149. As Langer points out, although Rav gained prominence in Babylonia, he had also been a student of R. Judah ha-Nasi in Israel.
[31] העולם תקון was the correct classical term, even though it has now been replaced in popular parlance by עולם תקון. Rosenthal, p. 214, n. 1.
[32] Rosenthal, p. 214, n. 1. It is also found eight times in the Jerusalem Talmud and four times in the Tosefta. Most of the time, the term is used in the context of the laws of divorce, but it is found in other contexts as well (e.g., Hillel’s enactment of prozbol at M. Gittin 4:3). Rosenthal suggests that the concept originated in the context of the laws of divorce, and was later expanded into the other contexts. See Rosenthal, pp. 217-219.
[33] Admittedly, the root תקן can often be translated as “established.” But in many of these cases the context is that of establishing a legal ordinance or procedure, and a better translation would be “instituted.” On the other hand, the musaf Amidah for festivals includes the phrase בתקונו ושמחנו (the subject being the beit ha-mikdash) and this seems to be an example of the root תקן meaning “establish” in a non-legal context. Another such example is the phrase…ממנו לו והתקין found in one of the sheva berakhot (Ketubbot 8a).
     Nevertheless, I strongly believe that לתכן was the original reading in Aleinu. It is easily understandable how an original reading of עולם לתכן might have evolved into עולם לתקן; the reverse scenario is much less likely. Moreover, R. Saadiah’s text in the musaf Amidah for shabbat read שבת תקנת. Yet he recorded לתכן in Aleinu.
[34] As mentioned earlier, in the reading עולם לתקן, there are two ways to translate במלכות: “under the sovereignty” or “through the sovereignty.” If the translation is “under,” establishing a world under the sovereignty of God is a simpler reading than perfecting a world under the sovereignty of God. If one wants to advocate for the translation “through,” it requires investigation whether the prefix ב could have been used to mean “through” in the Tannaitic and Amoraic periods.
[35] See, e.g., Shatz, Waxman, and Diament, eds., Tikkun Olam: Social Responsibility in Jewish Thought and Law, and Jacob J. Schacter, “Tikkun Olam: Defining the Jewish Obligation,” in Rav Chesed: Essays in Honor of Rabbi Dr. Haskel Lookstein, ed. Rafael Medoff, Jersey City: Ktav, 2009, vol. 2, pp. 183-204. For some citations to Biblical verses on justice, see Rosenthal, p. 215, n. 2.
[36] R. Chaim Brovender suggested to me that after Aleinu shifted to becoming primarily a daily prayer,   reciting a statement about perfecting/improving the world would have been seen as appropriate. By the twelfth century, Aleinu was being recited as a daily prayer in shaḥarit in parts of France (see above, n. 16) and probably in parts of Germany and England as well. (For Germany, see above, n. 17, and for England, see Ms. Oxford, Corpus Christi College 133.)
    The recital of Aleinu in the evening prayer in Europe is a slightly later development. For some early references to this practice, see Sefer ha-Minhagot of R. Moshe b. R. Shmuel of Marseilles (early thirteenth cent.), published in Kobeẓ Al Yad 14 (1998), pp. 81-176, at p. 103, and Kol Bo, sec. 11, citing R. Meir of Rothenberg (thirteenth cent.). The recital of Aleinu in the afternoon prayer is a later development.
    Regarding the recital of Aleinu as a daily prayer in Palestine, see above, n. 14.



Identifying Achashverosh and Esther in Secular Sources

Identifying Achashverosh and Esther in Secular Sources 
By Mitchell First 

This article is a summary of a longer article which will appear in his forthcoming book Esther Unmasked: Solving Eleven Mysteries of the Jewish Holidays and Liturgy (Kodesh Press), pp. 129-167.

     In this article, we will explain how scholars were finally able to identify Achashverosh in secular sources. We will also show that Esther can be identified in secular sources as well. Finally, we will utilize these sources to shed light on the story of the Megillah.Before we get to these sources, we have to point out that an important clue to the identity of Achashverosh is found in the book of Ezra.
Achashverosh is mentioned at Ezra 4:6 in the context of other Persian kings. The simplest understanding of Ezra 4:6 and its surrounding verses is that Achashverosh is the Persian king who reigned after the Daryavesh who rebuilt the Temple,[1] but before Artachshasta. But what about the secular sources? Was there any Persian king known as Achashverosh or something close to that in these sources?

     Until the 19th century, a search in secular sources for a Persian king named Achashverosh or something close to that would have been an unsuccessful one. Our knowledge of the Persian kings from the Biblical period was coming entirely from the writings of Greek historians, and none of the names that they recorded were close to Achashverosh. The Greek historians (Herodotus, mid-5th cent. BCE, and the others who came after him) described the following Persian kings from the Biblical period: Cyrus, Cambyses, Darius, Xerxes, and Artaxerxes.
    We were thus left to speculate as to the identity of Achashverosh. Was he to be equated with Artaxerxes? This was the position taken by the Septuagint to Esther. Was he to be equated with Cambyses? Or was he, as Ezra 4:6 and its surrounding verses implied, the king between Daryavesh (=Darius I) and Artachshasta (=Artaxerxes I). But why did the Greeks refer to him as Xerxes, a name at first glance seeming to have no relation to the name Achashverosh?
    It was only in the 19th century, as a result of the decipherment of Old Persian cuneiform inscriptions from the ancient Persian palaces, that we were able to answer these questions. It was discovered that the name of the king that the Greeks had been referring to as “Xerxes” was in fact: “Khshayarsha” (written in Old Persian cuneiform). This name is very close to the Hebrew “Achashverosh.” In their consonantal structure, the two names are identical. Both center on the consonantal sounds “ch”, “sh”, “r”, and “sh.” The Hebrew added an initial aleph[2] (a frequent occurrence when foreign words with two initial consonants are recorded in Hebrew), and added two vavs. Interestingly, the Megillah spells Achashverosh several times with only one vav, and one time (10:1) spells the name with no vavs.
     Thereafter, at the beginning of the 20th century, Aramaic documents from Egypt from the 5th century B.C.E. came to light. In these documents, this king’s name was spelled in Aramaic as חשירש, חשיארש and אחשירש. The closeness to the Hebrew אחשורוש is easily seen.
     How did Khshayarsha (consonants: KH, SH, R, SH) come to be referred to by the Greeks as Xerxes?
  • The Greek language does not have a letter to represent the “sh” sound.
  • The initial “KH SH” sounds of the Persian name were collapsed into one Greek letter that makes the “KS” sound. A tendency to parallelism probably led to the second “SH” also becoming “KS,” even though “S” would have been more appropriate.[3] Hence, the consonants became KS, R, KS (=X,R,X).
  • The “es” at the end was just something added by the Greeks to help turn the foreign name into proper Greek grammatical form.[4]
    (It was for this same reason that the Hebrew משה  became “Moses” when the Bible was translated into Greek.)

 

  Identifying Khshayarsha/Xerxes with Achashverosh thus makes much sense on linguistic grounds. Critically, it is consistent with Ezra 4:6 which had implied that Achashverosh was the king between Daryavesh (=Darius I) and Artachshasta (=Artaxerxes I).[5]
    We have an inscription from Khshayarsha in Persian which lists the countries over which he ruled. Among the countries listed are “Hidush” and “Kushiya,” most likely the Hodu and Kush of the Megillah.[6]
    Now that we have identified Achashverosh in secular sources, we can use these sources to provide some biographical information. Xerxes reigned from 486-465 BCE, when the Temple was already rebuilt. It was rebuilt in the reign of his father Darius I in 516 BCE. According to Herodotus, Xerxes was the son of Darius by Atossa, daughter of Cyrus. Xerxes was also the first son born to Darius after Darius became king. These factors distinguished him from his older half-brother Artabazanes, and merited Xerxes being chosen to succeed Darius. At his accession in 486 BCE, Xerxes could not have been more than 36 years old (since he was born after the accession of Darius in 522 BCE).
    The party in which Vashti rebelled took place in the third year of the reign of Achashverosh (1:3), and Esther was not chosen until the 7th year (2:16). Why did it take Achashverosh so long to choose a replacement? It has been suggested that Xerxes was distracted by his foreign policy. In the early years of his reign, Xerxes ordered a full-scale invasion of Greece. Xerxes went on the invasion himself, which took him out of Persia commencing in the spring or summer of his 5th year and continuing through part of his 7th year.[7] This invasion ended in defeat.
     From the secular sources and a solar eclipse that took place in the battles, it can be calculated that Xerxes did not return to Susa until
the fall of 479 B.C.E.[8] Tevet of Achashverosh’s 7th year, when Esther was chosen, would have been Dec. 479/Jan. 478 B.C.E. Accordingly, Esther was taken to the palace shortly after Xerxes’ return.
    Do we have any evidence in secular sources for the main plot of the Purim story, the threat to destroy the Jews in the 12th year (3:7)? We do not, but this is to be expected. No works from any Persian historians from this period have survived. (Probably, no such works were ever composed.) Our main source for the events of the reign of Xerxes is Herodotus and his narrative ends in the 7th year of Xerxes.[9]
    Interestingly, there is perhaps a reference to Mordechai in a later narrative source. The Greek historian Ctesias,[10] who served as a physician to Artaxerxes II, mentions a “Matacas” who was the most influential of all of Xerxes’ eunuchs. (Probably, “eunuch” was merely a
term used to indicate a holder of a high position in the king’s court.) “Matacas” suggests a Persian name with the consonants MTC, which would be very close to the consonants of the name Mordechai, MRDC.[11]  The information provided by Ctesias bears a significant resemblance to the last verse in the Megillah, which records that by the end of the story, Mordechai was mishneh (=second) to the king.[12]
(Perhaps we do not have to take mishneh literally; the import may merely be “very high official.”)
    Most interesting is what happens when we analyze the secular sources regarding the wife of Xerxes. According to Herodotus, the wife of Xerxes was named Amestris, and she was the daughter of a military commander named Otanes. (In the Megillah, Esther is described as the daughter of Avichail.) Ctesias records that Amestris outlived Xerxes. Moreover, in the further details that Ctesias provides, Amestris is involved in royal affairs even in the reign of her son Artaxerxes.[13] Neither Herodotus nor Ctesias use a term like “queen” for her, but their description of Amestris fits what we would call today the “queen.” Neither gives any indication that Xerxes had any other wife.
    Some postulate that Amestris is Vashti. But this is extremely unlikely since there is nothing in Herodotus or Ctesias to indicate any loss of
status by Amestris. Others postulate (based on verses such as Est. 2:19 and 4:11[14]) that Esther was never the main   wife of Xerxes, but was one of other wives of a lesser status. See, e.g., Chamesh Megillot, Daat Mikra edition (published by Mossad Harav Kook), introduction to Esther, p. 6. The problem with this approach is that the clear impression that one receives from the Megillah is that Esther was the Persian wife of the highest status from the time she was chosen in the 7th year of the reign of Achashverosh through the balance of the years described in the book. See, e.g., verse 2:17 (va-yasem keter malkhut be-roshah va-yamlikheha tachat Vashti).
    The approach that seems to have the least difficulties is to postulate that Amestris is  Esther and that Herodotus simply erred regarding her ancestry. Although Herodotus traveled widely in the 460’s and 450’s B.C.E., he probably never set foot in Persia. His information about Persia is based on what was told to him orally. Every scholar knows that he could not possibly be correct on a large percentage of the details he reports (whether about Persia or any matter). Also, the impression that one receives from the Megillah is that Esther did not disclose her true ancestry for several years. Whatever rumors about her ancestry first came out may be what made their way to Herodotus.[15]
    It is striking that the name Avichayil means military commander.[16] It is not so farfetched to suggest that Avichayil might have had another name which resembled the name Otanes.  The Megillah tells us that Esther had another name, Hadassah.
   Herodotus tells a story depicting the cruelty of Amestris. Amestris takes revenge on another woman by cutting off her body parts and throwing them to the dogs. Ctesias writes that Amestris ordered someone impaled, and had fifty Greeks decapitated. But scholars today know not to believe all the tales told by the Greek historians about their enemies, the Persians. (Herodotus, known as the “Father of History,” is also known as the “Father of Lies.” The reputation of Ctesias as a historian is far worse; he is widely viewed as freely mixing fact and fiction.)
    Although he never says it explicitly, one gets the impression from Herodotus that he believed that Amestris was the wife of Xerxes even in the first seven years of Xerxes’ reign. But it would be understandable that Herodotus might have had such a belief. According to the Megillah, Vashti was gone by the third year of Xerxes. Xerxes reigned 18 years after that. To Herodotus and his informants, Vashti may have been long forgotten.
    We have no Persian sources for the name of the wife of Khshayarsha. But close examination of the name “Amestris” supports its identification with Esther. The “is” at the end was just a suffix added to turn the foreign name into proper Greek grammatical form (just as “es” was added at the end of “Xerxes”). When comparing the remaining consonants, the name of the wife of Xerxes is recorded in the Greek historians as based around the consonants M, S, T, and R, and the name as recorded in the Megillah is based around the consonants S, T, and R. Out of the numerous possible consonants in these languages, three consonants are the same and in the same order! Probability suggests that this is not coincidence and that the two are the same person. Probably her Persian name was composed of the consonants M, S, T, and R, and the M was not preserved in the Hebrew. (One source in Orthodoxy that has suggested the identification of Esther with Amestris, without any discussion, is Trei Asar, Daat Mikra edition, published by Mossad Harav Kook, vol. 2, appendix, p. 3.)

—-   
    Once we realize that Achashverosh is Xerxes, it becomes evident that the asher haglah  of Esther 2:6 cannot be referring to Mordechai. King Yechanyah was exiled in 597 B.C.E. If Mordechai was old enough to have been exiled with King Yechanyah, he would have been over 120 years old when appointed to a high position in the 12th year of Xerxes. Moreover, Esther, his first cousin, would not have been young enough to have been chosen queen a few years earlier. One alternative is to understand verse 2:6 as referring to Mordechai’s great-grandfather Kish.[17] Another alternative is to view the subject of 2:6 as Mordechai, but to read the verse as implying only that Mordechai came from a family that had been exiled.
                                                                     —-
   The identification of Achashverosh with Xerxes does not fit with the view of the Talmud. According to the Talmud (Megillah 11b, based on Seder Olam chap. 29), Achashverosh reigned between Koresh and Daryavesh. In this view, the Temple had not yet been rebuilt at the time of the events of the Megillah. (In the view of Seder Olam and the Talmud, the Persian period spanned the reigns of only three Persian kings. This is much shorter than the conventional chronology. The conventional chronology is set forth in the Table below. For more information about this discrepancy, see my Jewish History in Conflict: A Study of the Major Discrepancy Between Rabbinic and Chronology, Jason Aronson, 1997).
    That the king intended to be depicted in the Megillah was Khshayarsha/Xerxes is accepted by legions of scholars today, even if they question the historicity of the story. Within Orthodoxy, some sources that accept the identification of Achashverosh with Xerxes include: Chamesh Megillot (Daat Mikra edition), R. Isaac Halevy,[18] R. Shelomoh Danziger,[19] R. Avigdor Miller,[20] R. Adin Steinsaltz,[21] R. Yoel Bin-Nun,[22]  R. Yehuda Landy,[23] and R. Menachem Liebtag.[24]
    The Megillah (10:2) implied that we could search outside the Bible for additional information regarding Achashverosh. I trust that this
search has proven an interesting one!
                                                             ——
     Table: The
main Persian kings from this era and their dates (B.C.E.):
Cyrus              539-530
Cambyses [25]   530-522
Darius I         522-486
Xerxes           486-465
Artaxerxes I  465-424[26]
Darius II        423-404
Artaxerxes II 404-358
Artaxerxes III 358-338
Arses             338-336
Darius III      336-332
Mitchell First works as an attorney in Manhattan and lives in New Jersey, and is available to lecture on this topic. He can be reached at MFirstatty@aol.com
[1]
Admittedly, this is an oversimplification, since the Daryavesh who rebuilt the
Temple is mentioned both at Ezra 4:5 and at Ezra 4:24.  See further below, n. 5.
[2]
Both the Elamite and the Akkadian versions of the name Khshayarsha also had an
initial vowel. In Elamite,“i”, and in Akkadian, “a”. See Edwin M. Yamauchi, Persia
and the Bible
(1990), p. 187.
The name of the king is found in Aramaic in
the panels of the Dura-Europos synagogue (3rd century C.E., Syria)
without the initial aleph.
[3]
That the transmission of foreign names is by no means an exact science is shown
by how the name of  the son of Xerxes
was recorded by the Greeks. The Greeks preserved the “Arta” of the first part
of his name, Artakhshaça, but then just tacked on “xerxes,” the name of his
father, as the second part of his name!
[4]
I.e., convert it into the nominative case.
[5] With regard to verse 4:24, the proper understanding of
this verse is as follows. The author of the book of Ezra decided to digress,
and to supplement the reference to accusations made against the Jews in the
reigns of Koresh through Daryavesh with mention of further accusations against
them in the reigns of the subsequent kings, Achashverosh (Xerxes) and
Artachshasta (Artaxerxes I). Verse 4:24 then returns to the main narrative, the
reign of Daryavesh. The role played by verse 4:24 is that of “resumptive
repetition.” This is the interpretation adopted by the Daat Mikra
commentary to Ezra (pp. 27 and 35) and by many modern scholars. See the
references at Richard Steiner, “Bishlam’s Archival Search Report in Nehemiah’s
Archive: Multiple Introductions and Reverse Chronological Order as Clues to the
Origin of the Aramaic Letters in Ezra 4-6,” Journal of Biblical Literature
125 (2006), p. 674, n. 164. This understanding of verse 24 only became evident
in modern times when it was realized that linguistically Achashverosh was to be
identified with Xerxes.
[6]
Roland G. Kent, Old Persian: Grammar, Texts, Lexicon, p. 151 (2d ed.,
1953).
[7]
Many find allusions in the Megillah to the preparation for the invasion and to
the invasion. See, e.g., Esther 1:3 and 10:2.
[8]
See, e.g., William H. Shea, “Esther and History,” Andrews University
Seminary Studies
14 (1976), p. 239. In the Persian system of regnal reckoning,
485 BCE was considered year 1 of Xerxes. 486 B.C.E. was only the accession
year.
[9]
See Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander (2002), pp. 7 and 516. In his
narrative of events up to the 7th year, Herodotus does make some
tangential references to events after the 7th year. For example, he
refers to Artaxerxes a few times, and he tells a story about something that
Amestris did in her later years. (She had fourteen children of noble Persians
buried alive, as a gift on her behalf to the god of the underworld.) Later ancient sources write about the
assassination of Xerxes.
[10] The Persica of Ctesias only survives in quotations or summaries by others. For this
particular section of Ctesias, what has survived is a summary by Photius (9th cent.)
[11]
Another version of Photius reads “Natacas” here. But this difference is not so significant.
“N” and “M” are related consonants, both being nasal stops; it is not uncommon
for one to transform into the other.
[12]
See also Est. 9:4.
[13]
This means that Artaxerxes I (who empowered Ezra, and later Nechemiah) was
technically Jewish!
[14]
Est. 2:19 refers to a second gathering of maidens, after Esther was
chosen. Est. 4:11 records that Esther had not been called to the king for 30
days.
[15]
It is sometimes claimed that Esther could not have been the wife of Xerxes
because Herodotus (3,84) tells of an agreement between Darius I and his six
co-conspirators that the Persian king would not marry outside their families.
One of the co-conspirators was named Otanes. But Herodotus nowhere states that
the Otanes who was the father of Amestris was the co-conspirator Otanes. Briant
writes that if Amestris had been the daughter of co-conspirator Otanes,
Herodotus would doubtless have pointed this out. See Briant, p. 135. Therefore,
implicit in Herodotus is that Xerxes married outside the seven families.
[16]
I would like to thank Rabbi Richard Wolpoe who first made this observation to me.
[17]
That the name Mordechai may be based on the name of the Babylonian deity Marduk
also suggests that Mordechai was born in exile.
[18]
Dorot ha-Rishonim: Tekufat ha-Mikra (1939), p. 262.
[19]
“Who Was the Real Akhashverosh?,” Jewish Observer, Feb. 1973, pp. 12-15.
[20]
Torah Nation (1971), pp. 40 and 42.
[21]
Talmud Bavli, Taanit-Megillah, p. 47, ha-Hayyim, and p. 50, ha-Hayyim.    .
[22]
Hadassah Hi Esther (1997), p. 49, n. 8. (This work is a collection of
articles by various authors.)
[23] Purim
and the Persian Empire
(2010), pp. 40-42.
[24]
For additional sources in Orthodoxy that accept the identification of
Achashverosh with Xerxes, see Jewish History in Conflict, pp. 178-79.
[25]
Cambyses’ name was discovered to be “Kabujiya” in Persian. His name is recorded
as כנבוזי in Aramaic documents from Egypt from the 5th
cent. B.C.E. He did not reign enough years to be Achashverosh. Nor did he reign
over Hodu. See Jewish History in Conflict, p. 167. Although he is not
mentioned in Tanakh, his reign is alluded to at Ezra 4:5 (in the word ve-ad).
[26]
Another king named Xerxes reigned 45 days after the death of his father
Artaxerxes I.



The Meaning of the Name “Maccabee”

The Meaning of the Name “Maccabee”[1]

Mitchell First

     In a previous post at the Seforim blog, Dan Rabinowitz dealt with the topic of the origin of the name “Maccabee,” and made many interesting points,[2] although he did not adequately address the issues. My intention in this essay is to offer a more thorough discussion. The name מכבי/מקבי is not found in classical Tannaitic or Amoraic literature.[3] But this is not surprising. The name was originally an additional name for Judah only and there are no references to Judah in classical Tannaitic or Amoraic literature.[4] The earliest sources that include the name in some form are works preserved by the Church: I Maccabees and II Maccabees. (These are not the original titles of these works.) I Maccabees was originally written in Hebrew,[5] but what has survived is only a Greek translation from the Hebrew (and ancient translations made from this Greek translation). II Maccabees, an entirely different work, was written in Greek. In the early Church, I and II Maccabees were considered part of the Bible.[6] I Maccabees (2:2-5) tells us that Mattathias (=Matityahu) had five sons, and that each had another name. For Joudas (=Judah), the name was Makkabaios (Gr: Μακκαβαîος.)[7] The additional names were probably given to the sons to help distinguish them from others with the same name.[8] In I Maccabees, Makkabaios is used for Judah six times. In II Maccabees, it is used for him twenty-three times.[9] To determine whether the earliest spelling of the name in Hebrew was with a כ or a ק, one must guess from the double kappa in Makkabaios what the original Hebrew letter (or letters) would have been. Fortunately, this is not hard.

Although there are exceptions, there is a general pattern in the Greek translation of the Bible of transliterating כ with chi (χ), and ק with kappa (k).[10] Usually ק is transliterated with one kappa, but sometimes two kappas are used.[11] A transliteration of כ with two kappas is very rare.[12] These same patterns hold true in I and II Maccabees. For example, if we focus on I Maccabees,[13] and look at the Greek transliteration of names, places, and months whose Hebrew spelling is known from the Bible, we find: -transliterated with χ are: כלב, זכריה, מכמש, כתים, and כסלו; -transliterated with one kappa are: יעקב, עקרבים, תקוע ,אשקלון, קדש, and קרנים; -transliterated with two kappas are: [14]עקרון and [15]הקוץ. At no time in I Maccabees is כ transliterated with kappa.[16] Thus, the spelling of Makkabaios with two kappas points strongly to a ק in the original Hebrew or Aramaic,[17] and does not mandate assuming a קק. Moreover, an original מקקב would be extremely unlikely. Hebrew and Aramaic words do not ordinarily have 4 letter roots. If we make the alternative assumption that the initial mem was not a part of the root, this does not help either. There is no root קקב in either Hebrew or Aramaic.[18] The double kappa just confirms our supposition that the original reading was ק, and not כ.[19] Based on this spelling, it seems reasonable to agree with the oft-proposed suggestion that the name is related to the Hebrew and Aramaic words מקבת and מקבא, which mean hammer.[20] As to why Judah was called by this name, one view is that the name alludes to his physical strength or military prowess.[21] But a מקבת/מקבא is not a military weapon; it is a worker’s tool.[22] Therefore, it has been suggested alternatively that the name reflects that Judah’s head or body in some way had the physical appearance of a hammer.[23] Interestingly, the Mishnah at Bekhorot 7:1 lists one of the categories of disqualifed priests as המקבן, and the term is explained in the Talmud as meaning one whose head resembles a מקבא.[24] Naming men according to physical characteristics was common in the ancient world.[25] Is it possible that Makkabaios and the other four names were Greek names?[26] The additional names for the other sons were: Gaddi (Γαδδι), Thassi (Θασσι), Auaran (Αυαραν) and Apphous (Απφους).[27] Perhaps it would have been beneficial for a Jew even as early as the age of Mattathias to have had an additional name in the Greek language. It is seen from the reference to Antigonus at M. Avot 1:3 that a “traditional” Jew circa 200 BCE could have borne a Greek name. (In the period after Judah, we know of many prominent Jews who had both a Hebrew/Aramaic name and a Greek name.[28] For example, Simon’s son John was also called Hyrcanus,[29] John’s son Judah was also called Aristobulus,[30] John’s son Yannai was also called Alexander,[31] and Yannai’s wife Shelomtziyon was also called Alexandra.[32]) But the letters μ,κ,β or μ,κ,κ,β, with any combination of vowels in between them, do not seem to correspond to any known word in ancient Greek.[33] Moreover, the two kappas also suggest that the name is not Greek. Two consecutive kappas are not typical in a Greek word.[34]

Finally, there are no non-Jewish figures from this period or any earlier period with a name like Makkabaios. This is strong evidence that the name is not a Greek one. However, our task of determining the original spelling and meaning of the additional name of Judah is not that simple. Two further issues present themselves. First, assuming that Makkabaios is a Greek representation of a Hebrew or Aramaic name, we still do not know whether the authors of I and II Maccabees knew how Judah himself, who died in approximately 160 BCE, spelled his name.

I Maccabees, which covers the period 175-134 BCE, was probably composed after the death of John Hyrcanus in 104 BCE, or at least when his reign was well advanced. This is seen from the last two sentences of the work.[35] After describing the murder of Simon and the attempted murder of Simon’s son John, the book closes with the following statement (16:23-24): As for the remainder of the history of John, his wars and his valorous deeds and his wall building and his other accomplishments, all these are recorded in the chronicle of his high priesthood, from the time he succeeded his father as high priest. [36] With regard to II Maccabees, we are told by the unknown author that it is an abridgement of an earlier work by someone named Jason of Cyrene. Cyrene is in Libya, but presumably Jason spent some time in Judea.[37] He is otherwise unknown.[38] The prevailing view is that Jason was a contemporary of Judah.[39] For example, the abridgement ends with a description of a military victory by Judah in 161 BCE, suggesting that the original work ended around this time as well. But it can be argued that the abridger ended his work before Jason did.[40] For example, the abridger writes that Jason narrated the history of Judah “and his brothers” (II Macc. 2:19). Based on this, an argument can be made that Jason’s work continued long after 161 BCE. It has also been argued that Jason wrote his work as a response to I Maccabees.[41] Even if we adopt the prevailing view that Jason was a contemporary of Judah, this does not necessarily mean that Jason knew how Judah himself spelled his name.[42]

The second issue that presents itself arises from the fact that the name is written “Machabaeus” in the Latin translation of I and II Maccabees composed by the church father Jerome (c. 400 CE).[43] There is a question whether this spelling reflects Jerome’s own spelling choice, which was perhaps made after he consulted the original Hebrew of I Maccabees,[44] or whether this was the conventional spelling of the name in the earlier Latin translations made from the Greek, which Jerome simply let stand. If this spelling was Jerome’s own and he made it after consulting with the original Hebrew of I Maccabees,[45] this would strongly suggest that the Hebrew text that he had before him spelled the name with a כ. In his translation of the Bible into Latin, Jerome almost uniformly used “ch” to represent כ.[46] Alternatively, if the “ch” spelling originated in the Latin translations before Jerome, or if it originated with Jerome, but not in consultation with the original Hebrew of I Maccabees, it would seem to be based on a Greek text which spelled the name with chi. This too would seem to reflect an original Hebrew spelling of the name with a כ. Thus, although we saw earlier that the double kappa in the Greek translation of I Maccabees suggests a ק in the original Hebrew, the evidence from Jerome’s Latin translation points in the opposite direction. Perhaps already in an early stage there were two different Hebrew spellings of the name.[47] If the Hebrew name was spelled with a כ, the meaning that suggests itself is “the extinguisher.”[48]

* * * * * * The spelling of Maccabee with a כ that is prevalent in Jewish sources today is not evidence of an original כ spelling. It is only the consequence of the spelling choice made by the author of Yosippon in the 10th century.[49] Yosippon is a historical work of anonymous authorship that was based in large part on a Latin translation of the works of Josephus.[50] Among the other sources that the author of Yosippon had before him was a Latin translation of I and II Maccabees. In the Latin translation of I and II Maccabees that was before him, Judah’s additional name was spelled “Machabaeus.” Based on this, the author of Yosippon decided to spell the name with a כ. He spelled it מכביי.[51] This spelling with a כ influenced the Rishonim thereafter. There never was a group by the name Maccabees in ancient times. How did the references to this non-existent group ever arise and how did the books get their titles? II Maccabees focuses in large part on Judah. Jonathan Goldstein, the author of I and II Maccabees in the Anchor Bible series, explains further:[52] Clement of Alexandria and Origen, the earliest of the Church Fathers to mention the books by name, call them Ta Makkabaïka, “Maccabaean Histories,” from which title persons who spoke loosely probably turned to call all the heroes in the stories “Maccabees.”[53]

The first datable occurrence of such use of “Maccabees” for the heroes is in Tertullian…ca. 195 C.E.[54] Finally, it must be pointed out that מקבי seems to be the original reading in the work now commonly referred to as Megillat Antiochus.[55] But this work is replete with errors: -It associates the name מקבי with Yochanan (John), while according to I and II Maccabees, this name is only associated with Judah. -It describes Yochanan as killing the general Nikanor in a private encounter in the area of the Temple. According to I and II Maccabees, Nikanor was killed by Judah and his forces in a battle that took place outside of Jerusalem. -It describes Judah as being killed before the Temple was retaken and describes Mattathias as stepping in to fight with the other brothers. According to I Maccabees, Mattathias died before the Temple was retaken and Judah led the brothers in battle. II Maccabees does not even mention Mattathias and describes Judah as leading the brothers in battle. -In its dating of the story of Chanukah, it erroneously assumes that the retaking of the Temple coincided with the beginning of Hasmonean rule in Palestine. In actuality, over two decades separated these events. Because of these and other errors, it is hard to treat this work as a reliable historical source on any issue.[56]

* * * * * * Some of the other, more remote, possibilities for the origin of the name are: a derivation from מקוה (hope),[57] from מחבה (one who hides),[58] or from מכאב (one who causes grief).[59] The name has also been interpreted in various ways as an acrostic.[60] Finally, on a lighter note, the suggestions of Franz Delitzsch and Filosseno Luzzatto (son of Samuel David Luzzatto) deserves mention. Delitzsch suggests that the name is a contraction of the exclamation mah ke-avi! (=who is comparable to my father!)[61] Luzzatto observes that there is a Greek term βιαιο-μάχας (biaio-machas) which means “fighting violently.”[62] If one places these words in reverse order, one gets something close to Judah’s additional name![63]

Conclusion

The two kappas in the name in the Greek translation of I Maccabees suggest that the original Hebrew from which this translation was made spelled the name with a ק. That the two kappas stem from an original כ is extremely unlikely. A ק spelling would suggest that the name is related to the Hebrew and Aramaic words מקבת and מקבא, and that the name was assigned to Judah based on either his physical strength/military prowess or based on his physical appearance. But it is also possible that neither the authors of I or II Maccabees nor Jason knew how Judah spelled his own name. Also, the fact that the name is spelled with a “ch” in Jerome’s Latin translation suggests that there may also have been a Hebrew version of I Maccabees that spelled the name with a כ.[64]

[1] I would like to thank Sam Borodach for reviewing the draft. All translations from I and II Maccabees are from the editions of Jonathan A. Goldstein (Anchor Bible, vols. 41 and 41A, 1976 and 1983). All citations to the Encyclopaedia Judaica (EJ) are to the original edition.
[2] Dan Rabinowitz, “The Name Machabee,” the Seforim blog (21 December 2008), available here.
[3] I am not considering Megillat Antiochus (“MA”) to be within “classical rabbinic literature.” I will discuss this unusual work at the end.
[4] Aside from the references in MA, the earliest reference to Judah in rabbinic literature is a reference in an 8th century work, Mishnat R. Eliezer (also known as Midrash Agur). This reference seems to be based on MA. This will be discussed below. Judah is also referred to in two of the three midrashim on Chanukkah published by Adolf Jellinek in the mid-19th century, and republished by Judah David Eisenstein in his Otzar Midrashim (1915). See Eisenstein, pp. 190 and 192. These midrashim are estimated to date to the 10th century. See EJ 11:1511.
[5] There are many factors that point to the fact that the Greek is only a translation. See, e.g., EJ 11:657, and Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 14. For example, many Hebrew idioms are used. The church father Jerome (fourth cent.) clearly implies that the Greek version of I Maccabees is only a translation. He writes: “I have found the First Book of Maccabees in Hebrew; the Second is a Greek book as can also be proved from considerations of style alone.” Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 16. An earlier church father Origen (third cent.) mentions an extra-biblical book used by the Jews which is a “Maccabean History which bears the title ‘sarbêthsabanaiel.’ ” Since this title is in Hebrew or Aramaic, this suggests that the book he is referring to, almost certainly I Maccabees, was composed in Hebrew or Aramaic. As to the meaning of this title, see Goldstein, I Maccabees, pp. 16-21 and J. Taanit 4:5 (68d). Jerome is the last individual to refer to the original Hebrew of I Maccabees. Neither I or II Maccabees is referred to or alluded to in either Talmud.
[6] For example, they were included in codices of the Septuagint. Judah and his brothers were seen as heroes by the early church. Centuries later, the Protestant church denied the sanctity of I and II Maccabees and of all the other books known today as the Apocrypha. But the Apocrypha are still part of the canon of the Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox churches. The Biblical canon may have been considered closed by Jewry even before I Maccabees was composed. See Sid Z. Leiman, The Canonization of Hebrew Scripture (1976), pp. 29-30 and 131-32. Even if the canon was still open (see, e.g., Lawrence H. Schiffman, Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls, 1994, pp. 162-169, and M. Yadayim 3:5 and M. Eduyyot 5:3), a strong argument can be made that I Maccabees was never a candidate for canonization since it did not claim to be a book composed before the period of prophecy ended. II Maccabees would never have been a candidate for canonization since it was composed in Greek.
[7] As is evident from the names Mattathias, Joudas, and Makkabaios, Greek often adds an “s” at the end of foreign names. That is why משה became “Moses” in the Septuagint, and why there is an “s” at the end of the name “Jesus.”
[8] Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 230.
[9] In II Maccabees, the name is usually used alone, without the name Judah. In I Maccabees, the name is used alone one time. Although the name is spelled with two kappas each time, the “s” at the end is not there each time. In Greek, the ending of the name varies depending on the how the name is being used in the sentence.
[10] The First Book of Maccabees, tr. by Sidney Tedesche, intro. and comm. by Solomon Zeitlin (1950), p. 250, and Samuel Ives Curtiss, Jr., The Name Machabee (1876), p. 8.
[11] See, e.g., the transliteration of the name בקי at Ezra 7:4, and the transliteration of the city עקרון (many times).
[12] Curtiss, who seems to have gone through the Septuagint very carefully, can cite only one such case: תכן at I Ch. 4:32. See Curtiss, p. 9. But even here, there is another reading in which the transliteration is with two chis.
[13] In II Maccabees, the occurrence of names and places whose Hebrew spelling is known from the Bible is very limited. (Unlike I Maccabees, II Maccabees does not provide many geographic details.) In II Maccabees, transliterated with chi are כסלו and מרדכי. Transliterated with kappa are יעקב, חזקיה and קרנים.
[14] I Macc. 10:89.
[15] I Macc. 8:17: “Judah chose Eupolemus son of John of the clan of Hakkoz…” I am making the reasonable assumption that Hakkoz is the same as the priestly clan הקוץ mentioned at I Chr. 24:10. (Although the reading of the majority of Septuagint manuscripts is Ακκως, there is another reading: ακχως.)
[16] This is true in II Maccabees as well. Admittedly, in most of the instances I have listed, the authors of I and II Maccabees were not deciding on their own how to transliterate these names and places, but were following already established conventions.
[17] The name could be an Aramaic one, even assuming that I Maccabees was composed in Hebrew.
[18] Semitic languages (other than Akkadian) do not have roots with identical consonants in the first two positions. Eduard Yechezkel Kutscher, A History of the Hebrew Language (1984, 2d ed.), p. 7.
[19] The Syriac translation of I Maccabees also spells the name with a ק. The Syriac translation of the Bible was generally based on the Greek translation, but it has been argued that sometimes the translators consulted the original Hebrew and that perhaps the Hebrew original was consulted here. See Felix Perles, “The Name ΜΑΚΚΑΒΑΙΟΣ,” JQR 17 (1926-27), pp. 404-405.
[20] See, e.g., Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, revised and edited by Geza Vermes, Fergus Millar, and Matthew Black, vol. 1 (1973), p. 158, Zeitlin, pp. 250-52, Nosson Dovid Rabinowich, Binu Shenot Dor va-Dor (1985), pp. 184-87, and Ernest Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language for Readers of English (1987), p. 377. For references to earlier scholars who argued for this approach, see Curtiss, pp. 18-20 and Ralph Marcus, “The Name ΜΑΚΚΑΒΑΙΟΣ” in The Joshua Starr Memorial Volume (1953), p. 62. מקבת is found in the Tanakh at Judges 4:21. (See also Is. 51:1.) It is also found in Tanakh in the plural מקבות, at I Kings 6:7, Jer. 10:4, and Is. 44.12. It is usually viewed as deriving from the root נקב, since it is a tool which is used to penetrate.
[21] There are various ways of understanding the metaphor. Some reasonable suggestions are: 1) he was as strong as a hammer, 2) he dashed the enemy into pieces, and 3) he penetrated the enemies’ forces. As many scholars have noted, another historical figure with such an additional name was Charles Martel, ruler of the Franks in the 8th century. Martel is French for “hammer.” He was given this additional name following his victory over the invading Muslim army at Tours in 732 CE. This victory halted northward Islamic expansion in Western Europe. Judah is described by the name Makkabaois before he battled the forces of Antiochus IV. But this is not a difficulty. According to I Macc. 2:66, he was “a mighty warrior from his youth.”
[22] See M. Kelim 29:5 and 29:7, referring to a מקבת used by stonecutters. See also M. Parah 3:11 and Tosefta Shab. 13:17 (ed. Lieberman). Marcus (p. 63, n. 3) notes that at Ber. 28b, when one of the Sages is called a “strong hammer” (patish ha-chazak), it is the word פטיש, and not מקבת, that is used.
[23] See, e.g., Schurer, vol. 1, p. 158 and Zeitlin, pp. 250-252. Exactly how to understand this is open to interpretation. Was it the shape of his skull that looked like a hammer? something about his face? something about his neck? something about his body? something about the relationship of these objects to one another? For some possible understandings, see Rashi to Bekh. 43b, and the commentaries to M. Bekhorot 7:1 of Rambam and Tiferet Yisrael. It has also been suggested that the reference to a hammer alludes to Judah’s having an occupation as a blacksmith. It has also been observed that מקבא means “nostril” in Syriac and that perhaps Judah possessed uncommon nostrils. Perles, p. 405. Bezalel Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabaeus (1989), p. 147, attempts to support the view that the name refers to some flaw in Judah’s physical appearance by noting that I and II Maccabees nowhere laud Judah’s physical stature or beauty.
[24] Bekh. 43b. Although the printed edition of the Talmudic passage reads למקבן here (just like the word in the Mishnah), Rashi’s text read למקבא. This would seem to be the correct reading .
[25] See Zeitlin, The Rise and Fall of the Judaean State (1962), vol. 1, p. 96 for some examples. Josephus tells us (Life, para. 3) that one of his ancestors (a contemporary of John Hyrcanus) was called Simon Psellus= Simon, the stammerer.
[26] This suggestion is made at EJ 12:808.
[27] These are the additional names for John, Simon, Eleazar, and Jonathan, respectively. Of the four names above, Gaddi is the easiest to relate to a known Hebrew or Aramaic word. It can be related to the Hebrew and Aramaic word גד, “fortune.” See, e.g., Gen. 30:11. For some attempts to give meaning in Hebrew or Aramaic to the other names, see Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 231, Rabinowich, p. 186, and Ralph Marcus, Josephus (Loeb Classical Library), vol. VII, pp. 138-39.
[28] For an extensive discussion, see Tal Ilan, “The Greek Names of the Hasmoneans,” JQR 78 (1987), pp. 1-20.
[29] Josephus, Antiquities, XIII, para. 228.
[30] Josephus, Antiquities, XX, para. 240.
[31] Josephus, Antiquities, XIII, para. 320.
[32] Ibid. Perhaps she was given this name after her marriage to Alexander. The Hebrew name of Yannai’s wife was transmitted in rabbinic sources in various forms. See Schurer, vol. 1, p. 229, n. 2 and Ilan, p. 7, n. 28. That the original Hebrew form was שלמציון has now been shown by two Dead Sea texts: 4Q331 and 4Q332. See Discoveries in the Judaean Desert XXXVI (2000), pp. 277 and 283.
[33] I make this statement based on my examination of the following work: An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon, founded upon the seventh edition of Liddell and Scott’s Greek-English Lexicon (1889). In contrast, many Greek words related to fighting begin with “μαχ.” Also, the Greek word for knife or dagger begins with these letters. (This is mentioned by Rashi at Gen. 49:5, מכרתיהם, citing Midrash Tanchuma.) Even though the letters μ,κ,β or μ,κ,κ,β do not seem to correspond to any known word in ancient Greek, we do find Azariah de Rossi (16th cent.), in his Meor Einayim, Imrei Binah, chap. 21, adopting the suggestion of a 16th century monk that the name is a Greek one and that the meaning is the equivalent of the Italian “paladino” (=hero, champion). Also, R. David Ganz (16th cent.), Tzemach David, p. 69 (ed. Breuer), writes that מכבאי in the Greek language is a gibor and ish milchamah. Of course, it is possible that the names of Judah and of some of the other brothers were Greek and what is recorded in I Maccabees are only shortened forms of names that originally combined two Greek words. Also, if the additional names originated as affectionate nicknames, whether in Greek, or in Hebrew/Aramaic, such names are often substantially altered forms of the original proper name. (In English, note Dick for Richard, Jack for John, and Billy for William.) It has been speculated that “Chashmonai” was the additional name of Mattathias. See Goldstein, I Maccabees, pp. 18-19. (“Chashmonai” seems to have been an alternative way of referring to Mattathias. See, e.g., M. Midot 1:6. But this does not necessarily imply that it was his additional name.) “Chashmonai” sounds like a Hebrew or Aramaic name. See Josh. 15:27, Num. 33:29-30, and Psalms 68:32. (We might expect Josephus to know the origin of the term “Chashmonai,” since he was from this family. But the various statements in Josephus are not consistent. See Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 19, n. 34.)
[34] Curtiss, pp. 8-9, theorizes that the original Greek spelling was with only one kappa. He writes that letters which are single in earlier Greek manuscripts often end up being doubled in later ones. Curtiss, p. 9, n. 1.
[35] It has been suggested that the last three chapters of I Maccabees were added later, because Josephus never uses them. But the failure of Josephus to use these chapters can be explained in other ways. See, e.g, Marcus, Josephus (Loeb Classical Library), vol. VII, pp. 334-335.
[36] Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 62. There is another comment which perhaps suggests that the book was composed long after the events described. I Macc. 13:30 reads: “This tomb, which [Simon] erected in Modeϊn, still exists today.” The positive attitude towards the Roman Empire in the book strongly suggests that the book was composed before 63 BCE. See, e.g., I Macc. 8:1: “Judas had heard about the Romans: that they were a great power who welcomed all who wished to join them and established ties of friendship with all who approached them.”
[37] Most likely, he is called Jason “of Cyrene,” i.e., from Cyrene, because he flourished elsewhere (e.g., Judea or Egypt) after having been raised in Cyrene. But Victor Tcherikover, Hellenistic Civilization and the Jews (1959), p. 387, raises another possibility: Jason was a native of Palestine who left after the death of his hero Judah, and found a new homeland in the Jewish community of Cyrene.
[38] It has been suggested that he is to be identified with Jason son of Eleazar who is mentioned in I Macc. 8:17 as having been sent by Judah on a mission to Rome. But this identification is only conjecture.
[39] See Daniel Schwartz, Sefer Makabim ב (2004), p. 19, n. 23. Schwartz agrees with this position. He argues that it is evident from II Maccabees that Jason composed his work before the establishment of the temple of Chonyo in Egypt. This temple was established in 145 BCE at the latest.
[40] The abridger does not state that he ended his work before Jason did. But if the abridger had followed Jason to the end, the abridger would have ended with something like: “Since Jason ended his work at this point, my work, too, is done.” Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 5. Instead the abridger ends: “Such was the outcome of the affair of Nicanor. From that time on, the city has been held by the Hebrews. Therefore, I myself shall bring my account to a stop at this very point…”
[41] Goldstein, I Maccabees, pp. 62-89 and II Maccabees, pp. 82-83. If this theory would be correct, we cannot view the similar spelling, Makkabaios, as an independent confirmation of this spelling, since perhaps the later work merely adopted the spelling of the former. It has also been theorized that I Maccabees was a response to or a rewriting of Jason’s work.
[42] I am willing to assume that the abridger followed the spelling used by Jason. (It is not known for certain that Jason composed his work in Greek, but this seems very likely. The abridgement begins with an introduction, and the abridger did not say anything here about changing the language of Jason’s work.)
[43] Curtiss, p. 7.
[44] Throughout his Latin translation of the Bible, Jerome seems to have consulted the Hebrew and corrected earlier erroneous transliterations found in the Greek translation. Curtiss, pp. 6 and 31. Jerome was more advanced in Hebrew than of any of the other church fathers.
[45] It is only speculation that Jerome consulted the original Hebrew of I Maccabees here. Even though Jerome refers to this work (see above, n. 5), he may not have had access to it and may not have remembered all of its spellings at the time he composed his Latin translation of I Maccabees. It sounds like he was referring to a work that was rare and not easily accessible.
[46] Curtiss, p. 7. Jerome transliterated ק with “c” or “cc” 188 times. There were only two occasions when Jerome transliterated ק with “ch”. (Curtiss attempts to explain what led Jerome to make exceptions in these instances. See pp. 7 and 32).
[47] Curtiss (pp. 8-9) tries to get around this scenario by postulating that the original Greek text only had one kappa, and that it was only later that the kappa was doubled. An original כ could have been transliterated with one kappa.
[48] See, e.g., Curtiss, pp. 25-29.
[49] David Flusser, Sefer Yosippon, vol. 1, p. 79, note to line 56.
[50] EJ 10:297. The author of Yosippon could not read Greek.
[51] Flusser, vol. 1, pp. 79 and 80. (Flusser writes that this is the reading in the better manuscripts of Yosippon.) This spelling is also found in another work from around this time, a Hebrew translation and adaptation of I Maccabees. This work was perhaps authored by the author of Yosippon. See Flusser, Sefer Yosippon, vol. 2, p. 132. Much later in his work, in a different context, the author of Yosippon calls the group המקווים. Flusser, vol. 1, p. 342.
[52] Goldstein, I Maccabees, pp. 3-4.
[53] A similar development seems to have occurred with the name חשמונאי. One can easily interpret all the references to חשמונאי in Tannaitic and Amoraic literature as references to Mattathias alone. (The only exception being the reference at Meg. 11a, but there are variant readings here.) It is only after the Talmudic period that references to חשמונאים begin to appear. See, e.g., Midrash Eser Galuyot, and Midrash Shocher Tov, chaps. 5 and 93. Jastrow, in his entry חשמונאי, writes that the plural form is found in some editions of BK 82b. But I suspect that the plural form is not the original reading here.
[54] Goldstein, I Maccabees, p. 4, n. 1, also suggests a possible earlier occurrence.
[55] Some manuscripts of MA read מכבי. But the Yemenite manuscripts of MA, which reflect ancient traditions, read מקבי. If we look at the three oldest manuscripts of MA (Turin 111, Huntington 399, and Paris 20, all of which date from around 1300 and none of which are Yemenite manuscripts), two read מקבי and one reads מקוי. See Menachem Tzvi Kadari, “Megillat Antiochus ha-Aramit,” Bar Ilan 1 (1963), p. 93, and Curtiss, pp. 37-41. (There are also a few manuscripts of MA in which the word is omitted.) In the manuscripts of MA, the term מקבי/מכבי is usually followed by words like תקיפין קטלא (=killer of strong men), perhaps implying that that the author of MA viewed this as its definition.
[56] I would not have phrased it in this manner, but the EJ entry “Scroll of Antiochus” (14:1046-47) includes the following statement: “[T]he author was totally ignorant of the historical circumstances at the time of the Maccabees and made no use of any reliable sources on the period.” The first source to mention MA is the Halakhot Gedolot (mid-9th cent., who calls it Megillat Beit Chashmonai) but it is possible that the work was composed as early as the 1st century CE. That it was composed in the Talmudic period or the post-Talmudic period is also possible. The work was probably composed in Palestine, even though it may have been edited in Babylonia. It was originally composed in Aramaic; the widely known Hebrew version (included, for example, in the Siddur Avodat Yisrael, the Siddur Otzar ha-Tefillot, and the Birnbaum Siddur) is only a later translation. For references to sources which refer to MA and to practices of reading it on Chanukkah, see Natan Fried, Al Minhag Kriyat Megillat Antiochus be-Chanukkah, in Daniel Sperber, Minhagey Yisrael, vol. 5, pp. 102-113, and Rabinowich, pp. 138-146. Even though the first source to mention MA is the Halakhot Gedolot (and the import of his statement is unclear), a statement in Mishnat R. Eliezer, an 8th century work, seems to be based on MA. The statement (p. 103, ed. Enelow) refers to four sons of Chashmonai after Judah, the eldest, was killed. These details match the scenario depicted in MA. One of the midrashim on Chanukkah first published by Jellinek (see above, n. 4) is clearly based on MA but the midrashim published by Jellinek are estimated to date to the 10th century. See EJ 11:1511. (The midrash that is based on MA is the one that Eisenstein refers to as Maaseh Chanukkah Nusach ‘ב.)
[57] Marcus, pp. 64-65. His suggestion is that Judah was thought of as living proof that God was Israel’s hope. Marcus makes the interesting argument that if the name was derived from the Hebrew מקבן, the Greek form could have been Μακκβάν. There would have been no reason for the Greek form to have changed the ending, since names can end with “an” in Greek. The additional name of Eleazar was Auaran (Αυαραν). The problem with Marcus’ suggestion is that the Greek letter beta usually corresponds to ב. But Marcus finds some examples of beta being used to transliterate vav. Marcus did not realize it, but he was preceded in his attempted solution by Yosippon. There is one place where the author of Yosippon calls the group המקווים. See Flusser, vol. 1, p. 342.
[58] See Curtiss, p. 13 and Jewish Encyclopedia, “The Maccabees.” Mattathias and his sons had fled and hid in the mountains during the period of persecution by Antiochus IV. But Judah seems to have had this name even before the persecution by Antiochus IV.
[59] See Curtiss, p. 13 and Ezek. 28:24.
[60] See Curtiss, pp. 14-17.
[61] Curtiss, p. 23.
[62] See, e.g., An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon, p. 150.
[63] Curtiss, p. 14.
[64] I cannot end this study without mentioning that the word “macabre” perhaps has its origin in the name “Maccabee.” See, e.g., Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language for Readers of English, p. 377, מקברי.



The Date of the Exodus: A Guide to the Orthodox Perplexed

The Date of the Exodus: A Guide to the Orthodox Perplexed [1] by Mitchell First

A pdf of this post can be downloaded here, or viewed here.

The Exodus is arguably the fundamental event of our religion. The Sabbath is premised upon it, as are many of the other commandments and holidays. Yet if one would ask a typical observant Jew “in what century did this Exodus occur?,” most would respond with a puzzled look. The purpose of this article is to rectify this situation. Admittedly, the date of the Exodus and the identity of the relevant Pharaoh are difficult questions. The name of the Pharaoh is not provided in the Bible. One scholar has remarked:[2]

The absence of the pharaoh’s name may ultimately be for theological reasons. The Bible is not trying to answer the question “who is the pharaoh of the exodus” to satisfy the curiosity of modern historians. Rather, it was seeking to clarify for Israel who was the God of the exodus.[3]

Nevertheless, there have been some important developments in recent decades which warrant this post. Part I: The Date of the Building of Solomon’s Temple According to 1 Kings 6:1, 480 years elapsed from the Exodus to the building of the First Temple in the 4th year of the reign of Solomon.[4] This suggests that a first step towards dating the Exodus would be obtaining the BCE date for the building of the First Temple.[5] When books published by ArtScroll and other traditional Orthodox publishers provide a date for the building of the First Temple, the date they provide will usually be around 831 BCE.[6] Unfortunately, this date is far off. The date for the building is approximately 966 BCE. Why is there such a discrepancy? ArtScroll and the other traditional Orthodox publishers will provide a date around 831 BCE because that is the date for the building of the First Temple that is implied from rabbinic chronology. 831 BCE is the date that is arrived at after subtracting from 70 CE: 1) the 420 years which rabbinic chronology assigns to the Second Temple period, 2) the 70 years between the Temples, and 3) the 410 years which rabbinic chronology assigns to the First Temple period.[7] (In this calculation, one arrives at 831 BCE and not 830 BCE, because there is no year zero between 1 BCE and 1 CE.) But there are two problems with this calculation: 1. The Second Temple period spanned 589 years, not 420 years. I have addressed this extensively in my book, Jewish History in Conflict (1997), and will only touch upon it briefly here: The Tanach does not span the entire Persian period, which lasted about 207 years (539-332 BCE). Only some of the kings from the Persian period are included in Tanach.[8] The rabbinic figure of 420 years for the length of the Second Temple period probably originates with R. Yose b. Halafta of the 2nd century C.E., who was the author or final editor of Seder Olam.[9] When R. Yose had to establish a length for the Second Temple period, he did not have complete information. In assigning a length, he decided to utilize a prediction found at Daniel 9:24-27. Here, there is a prediction regarding a 490 year period, but the terminii of this 490 year period are unclear. For a variety of reasons, R. Yose decided to interpret the 490 year period as running from the destruction of the First Temple to the destruction of the Second Temple. After subtracting 70 years for the period between the Temples, he was left with only 420 years to assign to the Second Temple period. This forced him to present a chronology with a shorter Persian period than he otherwise would have.[10] (Even so, he probably did not believe that the Persian period spanned anything close to two centuries.) 2. The First Temple period spanned approximately 380 years (c. 966-586 BCE), not 410 years. The First Temple was destroyed in 586 BCE[11] (and not 421 BCE, as implied by rabbinic chronology). It was built in the 4th year of Solomon. The BCE dates for the reigns of Solomon and the other First Temple period kings can be calculated because of the interactions between some of our kings and some of the Egyptian and Assyrian kings.[12] For example, the Tanach tells us (I Kings 14:25) that king Shoshenk (=Shishak) of Egypt invaded Jerusalem in the 5th year of Rehavam. Based on Egyptian sources, this invasion can be dated to 926 or 925 BCE. Assuming we (arbitrarily) utilize the 925 BCE date and assuming that Rehavam followed an accession-year dating system,[13] this means that the year Rehavam acceeded to the throne (=the year Solomon died), would have been approximately 930 BCE. Solomon ruled into his 40th year (I Kings 11:42 and II Ch. 9:30) This means that the fourth year of his reign would have been approximately 966 BCE.[14] The Tanach nowhere states that the First Temple period spanned 410 years. If one totals the reigns of the individual kings of Judah during the First Temple period, and adds the last 37 years of the reign of Solomon, one obtains a figure of approximately 430 years.[15] The origin of the 410 year figure is somewhat of a mystery.[16] The large 430 year total is probably due to cases of co-regencies of father and son, or cases where the son ruled while the father was still alive but not functionally reigning. In these cases, the Tanach has sometimes provided the full amount of years that each king reigned, even if only nominally, despite the overlap.[17] —- Once we realize that the First Temple was built in approximately the year 966 BCE, we can date the Exodus, based on I Kings 6:1, to approximately the year 1446 BCE.[18] If so, Thutmose III (1479-1425) would be the Pharaoh of the Exodus.[19] Part II. Must We Accept the 480 Year Figure Found at I Kings 6:1?[20] Two separate questions are implied here: 1. Are we, as Orthodox Jews, required to accept this figure found in the book of Kings? 2. What evidence supports and contradicts this figure? I am not going to address the first question. This kind of question has been discussed elsewhere.[21] (My book includes much discussion of whether Orthodox Jews are required to accept the 420 year tradition for the length of the Second Temple period. But admittedly that is a different issue, because only a rabbinic tradition is involved.) As to the second question, the 480 year figure is roughly consistent with a 300 year figure utilized by Yiftah, one of the later Judges, in a message he sends to the king of Ammon (Judges 11:26):

While Israel dwelt in Heshbon and its towns, and in Aror and its towns, and in all the cities that are along by the side of the Arnon, three hundred years, why did you not recover them within that time?

But what happens when we compare the 480 figure with the data found in the books of Joshua, Judges and Samuel? The specific years mentioned in the book of Judges (8, 40, 18, 80, 20, 40, 7, 40, 3, 23, 22, 18, 6, 7, 10, 8, 40, and 20) total 410.[22] To calculate the period from the Exodus to the 4th year of Solomon, one must add to this: -40 years for the desert wandering; -a length for the period the Israelites were led by Joshua, and after his death, by the elders; [23] -a length for the judgeship of Shamgar; -40 years for the judgeship of Eli (I Sam. 4:18);[24] -a length for the judgeship of Samuel;[25] -a reasonable length for the reign of Saul;[26] -40 years for the reign of David (II Sam. 5:4-5, I Kings 2:11); and – the first 3 years of Solomon. If one does this, one arrives at a sum greater than 480 for the period from the Exodus to the 4th year of Solomon. (But to the extent that some of the numbers in the book of Judges can be viewed as overlapping,[27] the discrepancy is reduced.) The 300 year figure utilized by Yiftah can be interpreted as only an approximation. More importantly, the context of the statement suggests that it was only an exaggeration, made with the intent of strengthening the Israelite claim to the land involved. As one scholar writes (exaggeratingly!):[28]

Brave fellow that he was, Jephthah was a roughneck, an outcast, and not exactly the kind of man who would scruple first to take a Ph.D. in local chronology at some ancient university of the Yarmuk before making strident claims to the Ammonite ruler. What we have is nothing more than the report of a brave but ignorant man’s bold bluster in favor of his people, not a mathematically precise chronological datum.

The 480 figure, in its context, does sound like it was meant to be taken literally.[29] But it has been argued that it was only a later estimate based on mistaken assumptions.[30] Moreover, we have no other evidence that the Israelites in the period of the Judges and up to the time of Solomon were keeping track of how many years it had been since the Exodus. There was a time when there was significant evidence in support of a 15th century BCE Exodus. For example: ° When Yeriho was excavated in the 1930s by John Garstang, he found a city wall that he estimated to have collapsed around 1400 BCE. He also excavated an area which was destroyed in part by fire, and dated this destruction to around 1400 BCE.[31] But Kathleen Kenyon, excavating two decades later, showed that the collapsed wall was from about 1000 years earlier,[32] and that the destruction and conflagration that Garstang had dated to 1400 BCE should in fact be dated to around 1550 BCE.[33] ° The volcanic eruption that occurred long ago on the Mediterranean island of Santorini[34] might explain most of the ten plagues and the parting of the yam suf.[35] This was the second largest eruption in the past four millenia, and there is no question that it had an impact as far away as Egypt.[36] This eruption had traditionally been dated to around 1500 BCE. But recent radiocarbon and other scientific dating now strongly suggest that this eruption took place in the middle or late 17th century BCE.[37] There is much circumstantial evidence against a 15th century BCE Exodus: ° The implication of the book of Exodus is that the Israelites, in the northeastern part of Egypt, were not far from the capital.[38] But in the period from 1550- 1295 BCE, the Egyptian capital was located in a region farther south, at Thebes.[39] It was only beginning with Seti I (1294-1279) that an area in the northeastern part of Egypt began functioning as the Egyptian capital, when Seti I built a palace there.[40] ° After the Six-Day War and additional areas came under Israel’s control, Israeli archaeologists were able to study much new territory that had been part of ancient Israel. Their studies show that the period that Israelite settlements began to appear in the land was the late 13th and early 12th centuries BCE, not the 15th and 14th centuries BCE.[41] ° Scores of Egyptian sources from 1500-1200 BCE have come to light that refer to places and groups in Canaan.[42] Yet there is no reference to Israel or to any of the tribes until the Merneptah Stele from the late 13th century BCE.[43] (The Merneptah Stele will be discussed below.) ° The Philistines appear as a major enemy of Israel during the period of the Judges,[44] appearing in chapters 3, 10 and 11 of the book of Judges.[45] But they only arrived in the land of Canaan around the 8th year of Ramesses III (=1177 BCE).[46] ° Egypt is never mentioned as one of the oppressors against whom Joshua or a leader in the book of Judges fought. This would be very strange for a conquest commencing around 1400 BCE. Egypt seemed to have exerted strong control over the land of Canaan at this time and for the next 200 years.[47] Part III. Most Likely, the Relevant Pharaohs are Ramesses II (1279-1213) and Merneptah[48] (1213-1203) We have already observed that, archaeologically, the period that Israelite settlements began to appear in the land is the late 13th and early 12th centuries BCE. This suggests that we should be looking in the 13th century BCE for our Pharaoh of the Exodus. Moreover, Exodus 1:11 tells us that the Israelites built store cities (arei miskenot) called Pitom andרעמסס .[49] Since the latter is an exact match to the name of a Pharaoh, this suggests that the Pharaoh who ordered this work (=the Pharaoh of the Oppression) bore this name. No Pharaoh bore this name until the 13th century BCE. The first to do so was Ramesses I. But he only reigned sixteen months (1295-94). Thereafter, after the reign of Seti I, Ramesses II reigned for over six decades. [50] Since Ramesses I only reigned sixteen months, while Ramesses II reigned over six decades, it is much more likely that the latter is the Pharaoh we should be focusing upon. Moreover, archaeology has shown that Ramesses II was responsible for building a vast city called Pi-Ramesse, which would have required vast amounts of laborers and brick.[51] Ramesses I, on the other hand, is not known to have built any cities.[52] Exodus 2:23 tells us that the Pharaoh of the Oppression died. If Ramesses II was the Pharoah of the Oppression, the Pharaoh of the Exodus would be his successor, Merneptah.[53] But there is problem with this scenario. The Stele of Merneptah,[54] dated to his 5th year, refers to “Israel”[55] as one of the entities in the region of Canaan that Merneptah boasts of having destroyed.[56] This implies that Israel was already a significant entity in the land at this time. The pertinent section of the Stele reads: [57]

The princes lie prostrate… Not one lifts his head among the Nine Bows.[58] Destruction for Tehenu! Hatti is pacified Cannan[59] is plundered with every evil Ashkelon is taken; Gezer is captured; Yanoam is made non-existent; Israel lies desolate; its seed[60] is no more; Hurru has become a widow for To-Meri; All the lands in their entirety are at peace…[61]

If the Exodus was followed by a 40 year period of wandering in the desert, and all of the Israelites entered Israel in the same stage, it would be impossible for Merneptah to have been the Pharaoh of the Exodus, since there was already an entity called Israel in the land of Canaan in the 5th year of his reign. Of course, one approach is to view Ramesses II as both the Pharaoh of the Oppression and the Pharaoh of the Exodus, and to treat verse 2:23 as an erroneous detail that somehow made its way into our official tradition. Obviously, we would like to avoid such an approach. Interestingly, there is a rabbinic view that treats the death mentioned at 2:23 euphemistically. According to this midrashic rabbinic view, verse 2:23 did not mean that the Pharaoh died; it only meant that he became leperous.[62] Identifying the Pharaoh of the Oppression with the Pharaoh of the Exodus is at least consistent with this rabbinic view.[63] A different solution is to postulate that some Israelites never went down to Egypt, and that these are the Israelites referred to by Merneptah. Although we are not used to thinking in this manner, there is perhaps some evidence in Tanach for such an approach.[64] Other solutions view the Israelites referred to by Merneptah as Israelites who left Egypt before the enslavement began, or who were enslaved but left Egypt in an earlier wave. Rabbi J. H. Hertz took the first of these approaches, and his comments (although written in the 1930’s) bear repeating: [65]

[If the reference in the Stele is to Israelites], then it refers to the settlements in Palestine by Israelites from Egypt before the Exodus… From various notices in I Chronicles[66] we see that, during the generations preceding the Oppression, the Israelites did not remain confined to Goshen or even to Egypt proper, but spread into the southern Palestinian territory, then under Egyptian control, and even engaged in skirmishes with the Philistines. When the bulk of the nation had left Egypt and was wandering in the Wilderness, these Israelite settlers had thrown off their Egyptian allegiance. And it is these settlements which Merneptah boasts of having devastated during his Canaanite campaign. There is, therefore, no cogent reason for dissenting from the current view that the Pharaoh of the Oppression was Rameses II, with his son Merneptah as the Pharaoh of the Exodus.

—– If we view the entity “Israel” in the Stele as representing the body of Israelites who came out of Egypt in the main Exodus, the matter of the determinative sign used for “Israel” becomes significant. The name “Israel” is marked with a determinative sign that differs from the determinative sign used for all the other city-states and lands in this section. All of the others[67] are accompanied by the determinative sign for city-state/land/region, while “Israel” is accompanied by the determinative sign for “people.” This could mean that the people of Israel were viewed as having arrived in Israel only recently and as having not yet settled down. This interpretation of the sign would support the view that the Exodus occurred only shortly before the time of the Stele, i.e., in the 13th century BCE.[68] Alternatively, the sign could mean only that the people of Israel were viewed as a nomadic people, or as a people that were settled in scattered rural areas but not as a city-state.[69] The implication of the different determinative sign for “Israel” has been much debated.[70] —– A key issue that needs to be addressed is how a 13th century BCE Exodus squares with the book of Joshua and its listing of various sites in Canaan that were conquered by the Israelites. We would like to know, for each site,[71] if there is evidence of people having occupied the site in the 13th and 12th centuries BCE (so that they could have been there for the Israelites to defeat), and whether or not there is evidence of a 13th or 12th century BCE destruction at the site.[72] I cannot discuss every site included in the book of Joshua, but I will briefly discuss four of them: [73] °Hazor: The archaeological evidence indicates that there was an occupation at Hazor which was terminated by a destruction in the latter half of the 13th cent. BCE.[74] Evidence of a conflagration as part of this destruction has also been found. Joshua 11:11 had referred to a destruction by conflagration at Hazor. °Lachish: The archaeological evidence indicates that there was an occupation at Lachish which was terminated by a destruction around 1200 BCE, and an occupation which was terminated by a destruction in the reign of Ramesses III (1184-1153 BCE).[75] °Ai (= Et-Tell). The archaeological evidence indicates that this area was entirely deserted from around 2400 BCE to around 1200 BCE, when a new smaller occupation seems to have begun peacefully.[76] °Yeriho: The archaeological evidence indicates that there was a conflagration and destruction at Yeriho in approximately 1550 BCE.[77] There was minimal occupation thereafter, without any wall, in the period from about 1400-1275 BCE.[78] There is no evidence of any occupation in the period from about 1275-1100 BCE.[79] Thus, the evidence from Hazor and Lachish is consistent with a 13th century BCE Exodus, but the evidence from Ai and Yeriho is not. But Et-Tell may not have been the Biblical Ai; many other sites for Ai have been suggested.[80] With regard to Yeriho, it may have only been a small fort in the 13th century BCE, with only a minor wall,[81] and the evidence of this minor occupation and destruction may have eroded away over the centuries.[82] The book of Joshua never calls Yeriho a “large” city.[83] —- Finally, a few other matters need to be discussed in connection with attempting to identify the relevant Pharaohs as Ramesses II and Merneptah: °Exodus 7:7 records that Moses was 80 years old when he first spoke to Pharaoh. If the Pharaoh of the Oppression was Ramesses II, and Moses was born shortly after he began to reign in 1279 BCE, Ramesess II, Merneptah and Amenmesses (the subsequent Pharaoh) would all have died by the time Moses was 80.[84] (The reigns of Ramesses II, Merneptah, and Amenmesses total approximately 79 years). Yet the book of Exodus only records the death of one Pharaoh between the beginning of the Oppression and the Exodus. A response is that we do not have to make the assumption that Moses was born after Ramesses II began to reign and that Ramesses II was the Pharaoh who ordered the male infants thrown into the river. We can understand the decrees against the Israelites to have been enacted in stages by separate Pharaohs, and assume that the book of Exodus oversimplifies matters in portraying only one Pharaoh of the Oppression. The import of Exodus 1:11 can be that the Israelites eventually built or completed the store cities of Pitom and Ramesses under Ramesses II.[85] ° The 14th chapter of Exodus and Psalms 106:11 and 136:15 can be read as implying that even the Pharaoh drowned.[86] But the mummies of both Ramesses II and Merneptah (and of nearly every Pharaoh from the New Kingdom[87]) have been found,[88] and their examination suggests that Ramesses II died from old age[89] and that Merneptah died from heart trouble.[90] Moreover, if all the Egyptians at the scene drowned, it would have been unlikely that the body of a drowned Pharaoh would ever have been recovered. A response is that one can easily understand the 14th chapter of Exodus and the above verses from Psalms as not necessarily implying that the Pharaoh actually entered the water.[91] ° The fact that the book of Ruth (4:20-22) records David as being only the sixth generation from Nahshon can be reconciled with a 13th century BCE Exodus. On the other hand, the list of high priests that the Tanach provides from Aaron to the time of Solomon is longer,[92] and the geneaology of Samuel that the Tanach provides is even longer.[93] Thus, the evidence from the geneaological lists in Tanach is inconsistent. [94] Part IV. A Brief Response to “Exodus Denial” A mainstream view in scholarship today is that all or most of the Israelites originated in Canaan.[95] If a portion of the Israelites were slaves in and fled from Egypt, it is argued that they were only a small portion. “Exodus Denial” has infected the new Encyclopaedia Judaica as well.[96] The archaeological evidence for the theory that all or most of the Israelites originated in Canaan is very speculative.[97] Archaeology has been able to document a large increase in population in the central hill country of Canaan commencing at the end of the 13th century BCE,[98] and to provide grounds for identifying this new population with early Israel.[99] But determining where this increased population came from is a much more difficult task.[100] A main reason the occurrence of an Exodus is disputed is the lack of Egyptian records recording a story of an enslavement of Israelites and their flight.[101] But we do not have narrative history works from the times of the possible Pharaohs of the Exodus. Nor, with regard to the 13th century BCE Pharaohs, do we have their administrative records. As the noted Egyptologist Kenneth Kitchen has remarked:

As the official thirteenth-century archives from the East Delta centers are 100 percent lost, we cannot expect to find mentions in them of the Hebrews or anybody else.[102]

In the limited 15-13th century BCE material from the Egyptian palaces and temples that has survived, there is evidence that foreign workers and captives were employed in building projects; that the supervision of the work was two-tiered;[103] that straw was used as an ingredient in the bricks; that workers were faced with brick quotas; and that workers were supervised by taskmasters threatening to beat them with rods.[104] The one thing we are lacking is a document or relief from Egypt referring to slaves or workers as “Israel.” But even though the Merneptah Stele refers to our ancestors outside the land of Egypt as “Israel”, this does not mean that Egyptians would have used this term for our ancestors as slaves inside Egypt. Levantines in Egypt would typically be described as “Asiatics” (Egyptian: ‘amw), not by specific affiliations.[105] Moreover, our ancestors may have been intermingled with native Egyptians and other foreign groups while enslaved. Leiden Papyrus 348, a decree by an official of Ramesses II, does record that grain rations were given to: “the apiru who are dragging stone to the great pylon (=gateway)” of Ramesses II.[106] There was a time when a mainstream scholarly position was that apiru was a reference to the Israelites. Now most scholars believe that the term is a general term for a class of renegades or displaced persons. As has been noted, the Biblical Hebrews (=Israelites) may have been apiru, but not all apiru were Biblical Hebrews.[107] It has often been pointed out that it is unlikely that any people would invent a tradition of slavery in another land. Moreover, references to the Exodus are numerous in Tanach.[108] Instead of looking at Egyptian history for references to the Israelite enslavement in Egypt, some scholars take a different approach to proving the enslavement. They attempt to find evidence in the Bible for knowledge of Egyptian practices and beliefs.[109] For example, all of the following suggest that there was an Israelite enslavement in Egypt: -The Biblical knowledge of the details of the slaveworking process in Egypt (e.g., two tiers of supervision, bricks from straw, and brick quotas). -The fact that some of the Biblical plagues seem to reflect a negation of Egyptian deities. -The fact that some of the Biblical stories seem to be a polemical response to Egyptian beliefs. For example, the emphasis on the hardening of the Pharaoh’s heart seems to be a response to an Egyptian belief in the lightness of an innocent heart.[110] The use of the phrase חזקה ביד seems to be a response to the use of a similar term in Egypt to describe the power of the Pharoah.[111] The story of the saving of the baby Moses is perhaps a response to an Egyptian mythical birth story involving Horus.[112] -Many words in the Bible are of Egyptian origin. I will conclude with another quote from Kitchen:[113]

The Egyptian elements suggest a direct knowledge of how Egyptian labor functioned; the magical practices and the plagues are closely tied to specially Egyptian conditions… The Exodus route via Pi-Ramesse and Succoth fits the 13th century B.C… The lack of any explicit Egyptian mention of an Exodus is of no historical import, given its unfavorable role in Egypt, and the near total loss of all relevant records in any case…The sudden increase in settlement in 12th century [BCE] Canaan is best explained by an influx of new people (not needfully a military conquest…)…That they had ultimately come from Egypt is not proven but (in light of the long and pervasive biblical tradition and good comparative data) is by far the most logical and sensible solution.[114]

End Note There are Egyptian legends from as early as the 4th and 3rd centuries BCE which refer to a mass departure of Jews from Egypt in ancient times. One could argue that these reflect independent Egyptian traditions confirming the Exodus. But more likely, these legends originated as Egyptian corruptions of an Exodus tradition that originated with the Jews, or as Egyptian polemical responses to such a tradition. I will now describe these Egyptian legends. Hecateus of Abdera, a 4th century BCE Greek historian, tells us that a pestilence arose in Egypt in ancient times. The common people ascribed it to the workings of a divine agency. The Egyptian observances had fallen into disuse due to the many strangers in their midst. To remedy the situation, the people decided to expel the foreigners. The most outstanding of the foreigners ended up in Greece; the majority of the foreigners were driven into Judea, and were led by Moses.[115] Hecateus is known to have traveled to Egypt and to have written a book about the ancient Egyptians. Most likely, he heard this story in his travels in Egypt. Manetho, a 3rd century BCE Egyptian historian, tells us two Exodus stories. The first story[116] begins with an erroneous equation of the Israelites with the Hyksos invaders.[117] Manetho reports that there was a certain shepherd-people called Hyksos who came from the east and ruled Egypt for several hundred years. Eventually, the Egyptian king Misphragmouthosis defeated them and confined them to a place called Auaris. His son, king Thoummosis (whom he later calls Tethmosis), concluded a treaty with them.[118] Under the treaty, the Hyksos were allowed to evacuate Egypt unharmed. Manetho continues:

Upon these terms no fewer than two hundred and forty thousand, entire households with their possessions, left Egypt and traversed the desert to Syria. Then, terrified by the might of the Assyrians, who at that time were masters of Asia, they built a city in the country now called Judaea, capable of accomodating their vast company, and gave it the name of Jerusalem. After the departure of the pastoral people from Egypt to Jerusalem, Tethmosis, the king who expelled them from Egypt, reigned twenty-five years and four months… [119]

The second story[120] is one which Manetho admits is less reliable.[121] In this story, the king involved is named Amenophis.[122] The following is one scholar’s summary of this story:[123]

Amenophis desired to behold the gods and received an oracle that he would attain his wish if he purified the land of lepers. The king gathered them and sent them to forced labor in the quarries, then gave them the city of Avaris as their territory, their number amounting to eighty thousand. After they had fortified themselves in Avaris, they rebelled against the king and elected a priest of Heliopolis by the name of Osarseph as their leader.[124] Osarseph commanded the lepers to cease worshipping the gods, also ordering them to slaughter and eat the sacred animals of the Egyptians. He further forbade them to associate with people not of their persuasion. He fortified Avaris with walls and sent an invitation to the descendants of the Hyksos who lived in Jerusalem to come to his aid in the conquest of Egypt. They obeyed him willingly and came to Egypt to the number of 200,000. King Amenophis fled in fear to Ethiopia, taking with him the sacred animals, and stayed there thirteen years, as long as the lepers ruled Egypt. The rule was of unparalleled cruelty; the lepers burned down towns and villages, plundered Temples, defiled the images of the gods, converted shrines into shambles and roasted the flesh of the sacred beasts. Ultimately, Amenophis gathered courage to fight the lepers, attacking them with a great host, slaying many of them and pursuing the survivors as far as the frontiers of Syria.

Select Bibliography Galpaz-Feller, Penina. Yitziat Mitzrayim: Mitziyut o Dimyon, 2002. Hasel, Michael G. “Israel in the Merneptah Stela,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 296 (1994), 45-56. Hasel, Michael G. “Merenptah’s Inscription and Reliefs and the Origin of Israel,” in Beth Albert Nakhai, ed., The Near East in the Southwest: Essays in Honor of William G. Dever, 2003, 19-44. Hess, Richard S., Gerald A. Klingbeil, and Paul J. Ray, Jr. eds. Critical Issues in Early Israelite History, 2008. Hoffmeier, James K. Israel in Egypt, 1997. Hoffmeier, James K. “What is the Biblical Date for the Exodus? A Response to Bryant Wood,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 50/2 June 2007, 225-47. Kitchen, Kenneth. “The Exodus,” in Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 2, 700-08, 1992. Kitchen, Kenneth. The Reliability of the Old Testament, 2003. Malamat, Abraham. “Let My People Go and Go and Go and Go,” Biblical Archaeological Review Jan-Feb. 1998, 62-66. Wilson, Ian. Exodus: The True Story, 1985.

[1] I would like to thank Sam Borodach, Allen Friedman, and Ari Leifer for reviewing the draft and for their insights. The views expressed here are solely my own.
[2] James K. Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt (1997), p. 109.
[3] The truth is that the absence of the name of the Pharaoh in the book of Exodus does not appear to be for theological reasons. “Pharaoh” originally meant “great house.” Ibid., p. 87. It began to be used as an epithet for the monarch in the 15th cent. BCE, but it was only in the 10th cent. BCE that the name of the monarch began to be added.
[4] “It was in the 480th year of the children of Israel coming out of the land of Egypt, in the fourth year…of the reign of Solomon over Israel, the house of God was built.” From a parallel passage at II Ch. 3:1-2, it is seen that the sense of the passage in Kings is only that Solomon began the work of the rebuilding at this time.
[5] The fact that the First Temple was built in the year 2928 according to rabbinic chronology does not determine the issue. In order to convert this to a BCE date, one must make assumptions about the lengths of the First and Second Temple periods.
[6] The exact date provided depends on whether 68, 69, or 70 CE is used as the date for the destruction of the Second Temple. 831 BCE is the date arrived at if one uses 70 CE.
[7] The tradition that the First Temple period spanned 410 years is recorded at Tosefta Zevahim 13:3, Yoma 9a and J. Megillah 72d (1:12). The tradition that the Second Temple period spanned 420 years is recorded at Tosefta Zevahim 13:3, Yoma 9a, Arachin 12b, Avodah Zarah 9a, and J. Megillah 72d (1:12). See also Nazir 32b. The earliest source for the 410 and 420 figures is Seder Olam (“SO”). The 420 year figure is explicit in SO chap. 28 and implicit in chap. 30. The 410 year figure is not explicit in SO, but is implicit in its statement in chap. 11 that the period that the Israelites spent in the land, from the time they entered until the time they left, was 850 years. 480 less 40, added to 410, equals 850. The 410 and 420 year traditions are implicit in the accepted Jewish count from creation. The tradition that the exilic period spanned 70 years is recorded at Jer. 25:11-12 and 29:10, Zech. 1:12 and 7:5, and Dan. 9:2.
[8] The Persian period begins with Cyrus and Cambyses, who reigned before the Temple was built in the reign of Darius I. After Darius I, six other major kings ruled until the next Persian king, Darius III, was defeated by Alexander. The Tanach mentions Cyrus, Darius, Achashverosh (=Xerxes), Artachshasta (=Artaxerxes I), and Darius II (see Neh. 12:22). It does not mention any of the Persian kings after this: Artaxerxes II, Artaxerxes III, Arses, and Darius III. (As to Cambyses, his reign is alluded to in the word ve-ad at Ezra 4:5.). In the chronology of SO, the Persian period spanned the reigns of only three Persian kings. See SO, chap. 30.
[9] Yevamot 82b and Niddah 46b
[10] Jewish History in Conflict, pp. 128-137.
[11] Some historians use the date 587 BCE. By my use of the date 586 BCE, I am not intending to take a position on this issue.
[12] See Kenneth Kitchen, “How We Know When Solomon Ruled,” BAR Sept-Oct.2001, pp. 32-37 and 58.
[13] In an accession-year dating system, the partial year in which the king began his reign is not counted as his first year. The prevailing view is that the kings of Judah followed this system. The kings of Israel used non-accession year dating in the tenth and ninth centuries BCE, but changed to accession-year dating in the eighth century BCE. Ibid., p. 35, and Kitchen, On the Reliability of the Old Testament (2003), p. 29.
[14] If the meaning of the verses is that Solomon ruled 40 complete years, i.e., into his 41st year, then his 4th year would have been 967 BCE.
[15] From Rehavam to Tzidkiyahu, the total years of the kings of Judah are 393½. See Divrey ha-Yamim, Daat Mikra edition, vol. 2, appendix, pp. 73-74. Adding another 37 years, for years 4 to 40 of Solomon, yields a total of 430½.
[16] It can be suggested that since there were nineteen kings of Judah from Solomon to Tzidkiyahu (not including two kings who reigned only three months each), it was decided to subtract 19 from 430 years because the last year of each of these kings and the first year of his sucessor would usually have been the same year. But why was 20 subtracted from 430? Moreover, would not the above approach have warranted a subtraction of only 18 years? I would not rule out the possibility that the 410 figure originated with a gematria based on be-zot (בזאת) yavo Aharon (Lev. 16:3). This gematria is found in a few classical sources, e.g., Baraita of 32 Rules (M. Margaliot, Midrash ha-Gadol to Genesis, p. 37), Lev. Rabbah 21:9, Numbers Rabbah 18:21, Pesikta Rabbati, chap. 47, Pesikta de-Rav Kahana, p. 177a (ed. Buber), and Midrash ha-Gadol to Lev. 16:3. Some of these sources record it in the name of a 3rd cent. Palestinian Amora, R. Levi. But it could have been in existence at the time of SO. The suggestion is made at Divrey ha-Yamim, Daat Mikra edition, vol. 2, appendix, p. 72, that the Sages wanted to create a chronology in which the length of time from the entry into the land until the departure spanned exactly 17 jubilee cycles (480-40, plus 410 equals 850). But there is no compelling reason that the Sages should have desired to adopt such a scheme, unless one theorizes that there was a desire to create a chronology which would approximately fit ונושנתם (852) of Deut. 4:25. But this seems very farfetched. If the chronology originated based on a gematria, an origin based on the exact fit of בזאת seems more likely. See also the comments at p. 72, n. 16.
[17] See Divrey ha-Yamim, Daat Mikra edition, vol. 2, appendix, pp. 70-72. As stated here, if we focus on the period from Yehu to the Assyrian exile, and compare the total of the lengths of reigns of the kings of Israel with the total for the kings of Judah, there is a discrepancy of approximately 21 years. The kings of Israel in this period reigned a total 143 years and 7 months, and the kings of Judah reigned a total of 165 years. Obviously, the method of counting lengths of reigns employed in the Judean kingdom was different from the method employed in the Israelite kingdom, and the method employed in the Judean kingdom must have been a more generous one.
[18] But if the Exodus was year one on the 480 count (and not year zero), we should go back only 479 years.
[19] All the dates I have used in this article for the reigns of Pharaohs are taken from Kenneth Kitchen, “Egypt, History of (Chronology),” Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 2 (1992), pp. 322-331 (tables at p. 329). A radiocarbon study published in 2010 suggests that these dates should be pushed back a few years. See Science, vol. 328, June 18 2010, pp. 1489-1490 and 1554-1557. Thutmose III was young at the time of his accession. Hatshepsut, who was his stepmother and aunt, served as the acting Pharaoh for the first 22 years of his reign until her death. (Based on I Kings 6:1, the Pharaoh of the Exodus almost turns out to be a woman!)
[20] The Septuagint has a different number here, 440 years.
[21] See, e.g, Shalom Carmy, “A Room with a View, but a Room of our Own,” in Carmy, ed., Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah (1996), pp. 22-24, and Marc B. Shapiro, “New Writings from R. Kook and Assorted Comments,” seforim.blogspot.com, Parts I and II, 20 Marheshvan, 2010, and Feb. 9 2011. Shapiro cites a few Rishonim who take the position that the long lifespans recorded in the beginning of Genesis are not be taken literally. Mishnah Taanit 4:5 records the 17th of Tammuz as the date of the breaching of the city wall, impliedly with regard to both Temples, while the Tanach (in three separate places) records the 9th of Tammuz as the date of the breaching of the city wall in connection with the First Temple. The view is expressed by an Amora in the Jerusalem Talmud (Taanit 4:5) that the 9th of Tammuz date is not correct, and that the calamaties of the time led to a mistaken date being recorded. This Amora makes a similar observation about a date expressed at Ezekiel 26:1. Admittedly, these verses concern errors of very small lengths of time, not hundreds of years.
[22] See, e.g., Soncino Books of the Bible: Joshua ·Judges (1950), intro. to Judges, p. 153. See also James K. Hoffmeier, “What is the Biblical Date for the Exodus? A Response to Bryant Wood,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 50/2 (2007), p. 227.
[23] Judges 2:7. Joshua himself lived until 110. Judges 2:8. Joshua was described as a naar at Ex. 33:11.
[24] The number 40 is one of the most frequently occurring numbers in the Bible. There are 33 forty-year spans mentioned in the Bible. This is only surpassed by the number of seven-year spans; there are 34 of those. Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 236. By way of contrast, no Egyptian Pharaoh is reported to have reigned 40 years.
[25] According to I Sam. 7:14, Samuel judged Israel until the end of his life.
[26] Despite I Sam. 13:1, which states that Saul reigned only 2 years. See, e.g., the commentaries of Soncino and Daat Mikra to this verse. In the Septuagint, some versions drop verse 13:1 altogether (the first part of the verse is problematic as well), some give Saul a reign of 42 years, and some give him a reign of 31 years. At Acts 13:21, Paul allots 40 years to Saul. See Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 227, n. 8.
[27] Only a limited number of “after him” phrases link successive judges. Probably, many were only regional rulers and some served as contemporaries in different areas. See, e.g., Soncino Books of the Bible: Joshua ·Judges, intro. to Judges, p. 153, Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 228, and Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 202-03.
[28] Kitchen, On The Reliability, p. 308.
[29] Even though numbers like 40 and its various multiples could perhaps be interpreted schematically. Umberto Cassuto studied the formulation of numbers in the Hebrew Bible. He concluded that numbers written in ascending order are generally intended to be technically precise figures, while numbers written in descending order are generally non-technical numbers found in narrative passages, poems, and speeches. He writes:

[W]hen the Bible gives us technical or statistical data and the like, it frequently prefers the ascending order, since the tendency to exactness in these instances causes the smaller numbers to be given precedence and prominence.

See Cassuto, The Documentary Hypothesis and the Composition of the Pentateuch, tr. by Israel Abrahams (1961), p. 52. (Cassuto developed this theory in order to refute the view that the explanation for the different orders was a difference in sources.) The number in I Kings 6:1 is written in ascending order (80 + 400).

[30] It has been suggested that the author of this number believed that the period from the Exodus to Solomon spanned 12 generations and just assumed 40 years for the length of each generation. See, e.g., Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 236, Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 307-08, and EJ 6:1044-45 and 8:576. (All my citations to the EJ are to the original edition, unless otherwise noted.)
[31] Bryant G. Wood, “Did the Israelites Conquer Jericho?,” BAR March-April 1990, p. 49.
[32] Ibid., pp. 49-50. The walls of Yeriho were destroyed or collapsed from earthquakes many times over the centuries. See Barbara Sivertsen, The Parting of the Sea: How Volcanoes, Earthquakes, and Plagues Shaped the Story of the Exodus (2009), p. 95.
[33] Wood, p. 49. See also Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 187. A recent radiocarbon estimate agrees with the 1550 BCE dating, dating this destruction to 1571-1529 BCE. Sivertsen, p. 97.
[34] This island was known to the ancient Greeks as Thera. It is near Crete.
[35] E.g., clouds of ash caused the plague of darkness, and a tidal wave (tsunami) caused the parting of the Sea. This suggestion was first made in 1964. Sivertsen, p. 7. In 2006, the suggestion was the subject of a documentary film, The Exodus Decoded, by filmmaker Simcha Jacobovici. (I was initially supposed to appear in this film and be interviewed on the topic of Jewish chronology. But the interview never took place.)
[36] Volcanic ash from Santorini was found in the Nile Delta. Sivertsen, p. 168, n. 28.
[37] Ibid., pp. 23-24. But there are those who still adhere to the later date. See, e.g., Sivertsen, p. 166, n. 3, and there are radiocarbon tests which support this position. For further background to this eruption and the controversy about its date, see the entries in Wikipedia for “Santorini” and “Minoan eruption.” See also Science, vol. 328, June 18 2010, pp. 1489-1490.
[38] For example, the daughter of the Pharaoh of the Oppression found the baby Moses at a site on the Nile. From here, Miriam was easily able to run home to fetch her mother (Ex.2:1-10). Also, the Pharaoh of the Exodus was able to summon Moses and Aaron to his palace in the middle of the night (Ex. 12:30-31).
[39] Nahum M. Sarna, Exploring Exodus (1986), p. 10 and Ian Wilson, Exodus: The True Story (1985), p. 23. The 17th Dynasty operated out of Thebes as well, ruling the southern part of the country, while the Hyksos ruled the northern part of the country from Avaris. Sarna, p. 16.
[40] Wilson, p. 23. Ramesses II built his city and palace at Pi-Ramesse around this earlier palace. Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 123. Excavations beginning in the early 1990s at Tell el-Dab‘a/Ezbet Helmi, very close to Pi-Ramesse, have now revealed two palaces which were in use in the period from 1550-1400 BCE. See Manfried Bietak, “The Palatial Precinct at the Nile Branch (Area H),”;. But the main Egyptian capital still seems to have been Thebes in this period.
[41] See Israel Finkelstein, The Archaeology of the Israelite Settlements (1988), p. 353; Israel Finkelstein and Neil Asher Silberman, The Bible Unearthed (2002), pp. 107-115, and William G. Dever, Who Were the Early Israelites and Where Did They Come From? (2003), pp. 97-99, 154-155, and 167. The early Israelite settlements are particularly found in the areas of Ephraim and Menashe. Beginning in 1978, Adam Zertal conducted an extensive survey of the history of the settlement in Menashe. Among his conclusions: -In the period from 1550-1200 BCE, the number of settlements sharply declined in comparision to the period 1750-1550 BCE, with only one quarter of the sites remaining. In the period from 1550-1200 BCE, no new sites were established. -There was a considerable increase in settlements during the period from 1200-1000 BCE. See Ralph K. Hawkins, “The Survey of Manasseh and the Origin of the Central Hill Country Settlers,” in Richard S. Hess et al, eds., Critical Issues in Early Israelite History (2008), pp. 167-68. Those who argue for a 15th century BCE Exodus and Conquest can take the position that the Israelites lived pastorally for their first 200 years, and that this accounts for the lack of archaeological evidence for their settlement. See, e.g., Paul Ray, “Classical Models for the Appearance of Israel in Palestine,” in Critical Issues, p. 93. Such a position is very much out of the mainstream today.
[42] Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, pp. 241-42, based on Shmuel Ahituv, Canaanite Toponyms in Ancient Egyptian Documents (1984).
[43] There are references in Egyptian texts from the 13th and 12th centuries BCE to a place called ’Isr. ’Isr has been equated by some with the Israelite tribe of אשר. See, e.g., Ray, p. 84, n. 3. But the identification should probably be rejected. See Kitchen, Ramesside Inscriptions, vol. 1 (1993), pp. 40-41. Manfred Görg argues that there is an inscription which provides evidence of Israel’s existence in the 15th century BCE. The inscription itself dates to the 13th century BCE, but based on the spellings, Görg suggests the names were copied from a 15th century BCE source. The inscription refers to Ashkelon, Canaan, and a third toponym. The third toponym is only partially preserved. If it is restored to spell “Israel,” the spelling would be slightly different from the spelling of Israel on the Merneptah Stele. Hoffmeier writes that “Gorg’s reading of this name…is plagued by serious linguistic and orthographic problems that preclude it from being Israel.” Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 241.
[44] Ibid., p. 242
[45] Judges 3:31, 10:7 and 13:1.
[46] Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 339-340 and EJ 13:399.
[47] In the 12th century BCE, the Egyptian grip on Canaan began to loosen considerably, so the Israelites could have operated with little Egyptian interference. Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, pp. 242-43. According to Lawrence F. Stager, “the Egyptians maintained some control over parts of Canaan until just after the death of Rameses III in 1153 BCE.” See his “Forging an Identity: The Emergency of Ancient Israel,” p. 123, in Michael D. Coogan, ed., The Oxford History of the Biblical World (1998). See also Carol A. Redmount, “Bitter Lives: Israel in and out of Egypt,” Ibid., pp. 117-118.
[48] More recently, scholars have been spelling his name Merenptah. I have followed the traditional spelling. Merneptah was the 13th son of Ramesses II. Ramesses II outlived the first twelve.
[49] A region called רעמסס was mentioned earlier at Gen. 47:11. רעמסס is also mentioned as the place the Israelites began their departure from. See Ex. 12:37 and Num. 33:3,5. As to Pitom, this is the only time this place is mentioned in Tanach. Many suggest it means “the house of Atum” (see, e.g., Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 119, and Daat Mikra to Ex. 1:11), in which case we would be looking for a site where the god Atum had a special position. There are various theories as to its location. See Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, pp. 119-121. Papyrus Anastasi 6 refers to “the pools of Pithom-of-Merneptah.” Herodotus (2:158), 5th cent. BCE, refers to a town called Patoumos.
[50] There were other Pharaohs named Ramesses thereafter, starting with Ramesses III in 1184 BCE. But a 12th century BCE Pharaoh of the Oppression would considerably compress the period of the Judges, and be egregiously inconsistent with the 480 year and 300 year verses mentioned above. Also, a 12th century BCE Pharaoh of the Oppression followed by 40 years of desert wandering would not fit the archaeological evidence that shows that Israelite settlement began in the late 13th and early 12th centuries BCE.
[51] Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 255. The city and palace at Pi-Ramesse were built around an earlier palace built at this location by Seti I. Ibid., p. 256. Pi-Ramesse was abandoned as a royal residence around 1130 BCE. I am not assuming that this is the city referred to at Ex. 1:11. But this is possible too.
[52] Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 255.
[53] It has been suggested that the references to mayan mei neftoah at Joshua 15:9 and 18:15 are to a place that derives its name from Merneptah (and perhaps from his campaign in Palestine, see below). The combination of mayan and mei is redundant and is not attested elsewhere in Tanach. Also, Papyrus Anastasi 3 includes a reference to the “wells of Merneptah” in Canaan. See Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 165-66 and Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 243. (In the movie “The Ten Commandments,” Seti I was the Pharaoh of the Oppression, and Ramesses II was the Pharaoh of the Exodus.)
[54] The Stele was discovered in 1896 at Thebes. A fragmentary copy was later discovered at Karnak. At Karnak, the section where “Israel” would have been written has not survived.
[55] The actual reading is: ysri3r (in Egyptian hieroglyphs). Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 30 and Michael G. Hasel, “Israel in the Merneptah Stela,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 296 (1994), p. 46. The Egyptian dialect at that time did not have an “l” sound; both the “r” sound and the “l” sound were written with the Egyptian “r”. See Kitchen, “The Victories of Merenptah, and the Nature of their Record,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 28 (2004), p. 271. (The Philistines are referred to as prst in Egyptian inscriptions from this era. EJ 13:399.)
[56] This is the earliest reference to the entity “Israel” outside of the Bible. It is ironic that in this first reference, Israel is described as having been destroyed! (The name “Israel” for an individual is known prior to the Merneptah Stele. It is found at Ebla and Ugarit. Hasel, p. 46.) The Stele was probably constructed after a successful military expedition into Palestine by Merneptah’s forces (perhaps led by Merneptah himself.) There is other evidence for such an expedition. For example, Merneptah adopts the epithet “conqueror of Gaza” in a different stele. See Sarna, p. 12, Hasel, p. 55, and Hasel, “Merenptah’s Inscription and Reliefs and the Origin of Israel,” in Beth Albert Nakhai, ed., The Near East in the Southwest: Essays in Honor of William G. Dever (2003), p. 27. Moreover, the reliefs at Karnak are now generally viewed as illustrations of the conquests referred to in the Stele. This further supports the likelihood that there was such an expedition. Ibid. It has been suggested that if the Exodus occurred in the reign of Ramesses II, Merneptah’s expedition may have been a response to the Israelites’ expanding their control in Canaan during the early period of the Judges. Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 243.
[57] The above translation is from D. Winton Thomas, ed., Documents from Old Testament Times (1958), p. 139.
[58] “Nine Bows” is an Egyptian expression for all subjugated peoples. Hasel, Israel in the Merneptah Stela, p. 55.
[59] This can be another term for Gaza, and not the land of Canaan. Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 29 (but compare p. 45).
[60] The Egyptian word can mean either human seed or grain. Ibid., p. 45. If the meaning is “grain,” the implication may be that Israel was no longer a military threat to Egypt. Also, one could perhaps infer that Israel was an agrarian society and hence already established in the land. Hasel, Israel in the Merneptah Stela, p. 53.
[61] Sarna writes (p. 12):

[T] he “Nine Bows” are the traditionally hostile neighbors of Egypt; the Tehenu are one of the Libyan peoples; Hatti is the land of the Hittites, now Asiatic Turkey; Ashkelon and Gezer are two southerly Cannanite towns; Yanoam is a town in the north of the country; Hurru , the land of the Hurrians, who are the Biblical Horites, is an Egyptian term for Palestine and Syria. To-Meri is another name for Egypt.

[62] See Exodus Rabbah 1:34, and Targum Jonathan to Ex. 2:23. For a connection between death and leprosy, see Num. 12:12. There is a similar midrashic rabbinic teaching on Isaiah 6:1, a verse that mentions the death of king Uzziahu.
[63] The passage at Exodus Rabbah 1:34 does not state what motivated it to treat the death euphemistically. But a different version of this passage is found at Midrash ha-Gadol to Ex. 2:23. There, additional language is found (underlined below) which helps explain what motivated the euphemistic reading: (Ex. 9:16 ) העמדתיך זאת בעבור ואולם אומר הוא והלא מת וכי (citing Num. 12:12) …כמת והמצורע שנצטרע אלא Given the reliability of Midrash ha-Gadol with respect to its quotations of midrashim (see, E.g., EJ 11:1515), it is reasonable to view the added language as original, and not as a later interpolation. For further possible background to the midrash at Exodus Rabbah 1:34, see Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, vol. 5, n. 101, pp. 412-413. Many rabbinic commentaries offer a different explanation of what motivated the euphemistic reading (without being aware of the additional language in Midrash ha-Gadol). The groaning and crying out referred to at verse 2:23 perhaps make no sense if the Pharaoh had died; we would expect an optimistic hope for change. Hence, a euphemistic interpretation of the “death” is called for.
[64] See, e.g., I Chronicles 7:20-24. The events described here imply that Ephraim and his sons and daughter were living in Israel, not Egypt. See Y. Zakovitch and A. Shinan, Lo Kach Katuv be-Tanach (2004), pp. 145-150, and Gary N. Knoppers, I Chronicles 1-9 (The Anchor Bible) (2003), pp. 464-65.
[65] The Pentateuch and Haftorahs (2d. ed. 1975), p. 395 (Exodus-Additional Notes). An interesting suggestion was made by Abraham Malamat. The Bible implies that the Exodus occurred over a relatively brief period, i.e., that it was a “punctual” event. But perhaps it was a “durative” event (=an event which spanned a long period of time), and involved a steady flow of Israelites out of Egypt over hundreds of years. If it was a durative event, the search for a specific date is not the correct approach. All we really should be looking for is the peak period, when Moses was their leader and the highest percentage left. See his “Let My People Go and Go and Go and Go,” BAR Jan.-Feb. 1998, pp. 62-66. A longer version of this article is included in Ernest S. Frerichs and Leonard H. Lesko, eds., Exodus: The Egyptian Evidence (1997).
[66] I believe Hertz is referring to I Chronicles 7:20-24, but he is giving a different interpretation than the one I just suggested.
[67] Specifically: Tehenu, Hatti, Canaan, Ashkelon, Gezer, Yanoam, and Hurru. “Nine Bows” has a bow as a determinative, but this was not a city-state or land.
[68] For example, Sarna writes (p. 13):

[I]t may be concluded that… [at the time of the Stele] the people of Israel was located in Canaan, but had not yet settled down within definable borders. Its presence there was of recent origin, so that the Exodus would have taken place in the course of the thirteenth century BCE.

See also the comments of Lawrence Schiffman in “Making the Bible Come to Life: Biblical Archaeology and the Teaching of Tanach in Jewish Schools,” Tradition 37/4 (Winter 2003), p. 48, n . 19:

The text describes the situation in Canaan in the thirteenth century B.C.E. with Israel alone pictured as a people without a geographical designation. This clearly refers to the period between the invasion and the actual settlement of the various Israelite tribes.

Those advocating an earlier date for the Exodus can make a different argument from the Stele. Since Merneptah felt that the destruction of Israel was something to boast about, Israel must have been a significant entity, one that was long-established in the land.

[69] Hasel, Israel in the Merneptah Stela, pp. 53-54.
[70] See the two articles by Hasel cited previously. See also his “Merenptah’s Reference to Israel: Critical Issues for the Origin of Israel,” in Critical Issues, pp. 47-59.
[71] Of course, there are always questions of whether archaeology has identified the correct site. Even if a name similar to the Biblical name has been preserved at a village or tel, the Biblical name may refer instead to the larger region. Moreover, even if the correct site has been identified, typically only 5% of each site is dug. Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 183.
[72] But it must be stressed that there is little reason to expect that the victories of the Israelites would have left archaeological traces of destruction in most instances. The Israelite victories over a city and its people are typically described only by the terms ויכה and ויכוה, and the underlying Israelite goal was only to kill the leaders and the inhabitants. The cities themselves were eventually to be occupied by the Israelites. The victories described in the book of Joshua can be viewed mainly as disabling raids. After their victories, the Israelites did not attempt to hold the areas; they remained based at Gilgal. Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 162. Only in the cases of Jericho, Ai and Hazor does the book of Joshua specify that the city was burnt, something that can be tested for archaeologically. See Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 183 and 189-90, and Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, pp. 33-44. It has also been observed that the descriptions of the conquests in the book of Joshua are formulaic and use rhetorical language, suggesting that they are somewhat exaggerated. The continuing presence of the Canaanites in Canaan after the time of Joshua is seen from the book of Judges.
[73] A similar analysis must also be conducted with regard to how a 13th century BCE Exodus squares with the cities in Transjordan mentioned in the book of Numbers as conquered by the Israelites (e.g., Arad, Heshbon, Dibon, and Edrei). Compare Kitchen’s analysis, On the Reliability, pp. 190-196 with Dever’s analysis at pp. 23-35.
[74] Dever, pp. 66-68. Judges 4:2 describes the Israelites as having been handed over to Yavin, king of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor. But this was many years later and the city may have been rebuilt by this time. Soncino, comm. to Judges 4:2.
[75] Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 184 and 211. See also Dever, pp. 50 and 210.
[76] Joseph Callaway, “Ai,” in David Noel Freedman, ed., The Anchor Bible Dictionary (1992), vol. 1, pp. 125-30, and Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 188.
[77] See above, Part II.
[78] Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 187.
[79] Ibid., and Wood, “Did the Israelites Conquer Jericho?,” p. 50.
[80] A recent discussion is that of Bryant G. Wood, “The Search for Joshua’s Ai,” in Critical Issues, pp. 205-240.
[81] See, e.g., Richard S. Hess, “The Jericho and Ai of the Book of Joshua,” in Critical Issues, pp. 36-38. I am reminded here of Mark Twain’s remarks in The Innocents Abroad, end of chap. 46, after his visit to Palestine in 1867. In Sunday school, he imagined the kings mentioned in the Bible to be similar to the kings of England, France, Spain, Germany, and Russia, “arrayed in splended robes ablaze with jewels, marching in grave procession…” Now that he has been to Palestine, he realizes they were probably only “petty chiefs- ill-clad and ill-conditoned savages much like our Indians, who lived in full sight of each other and whose ‘kingdoms’ were large when they were five miles square and contained two thousand souls.”
[82] Hess, p. 38, Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 187-88, and Kitchen, “The Exodus,” Anchor Bible Dictionary (1992), vol. 2, p. 702.
[83] It has also been argued that the city could not have been too large if the Israelites were expected to march around it seven times in one day and then have sufficient energy to fight a battle. Hess, p. 35. Kitchen (On the Reliability, pp. 182-90) analyzed 24 cities listed as conquered in the book of Joshua. He omitted places whose identification on the ground was doubtful or which had not yet been explored archaeologically. He concluded ( p. 189):

[O]nly four can be regarded as deficient in background finds for LB II [=Late Bronze II, c. 1350-1200 BCE] and in those cases there are factors that account for the deficiency. The rest shows very clearly that Joshua and his raiders moved among (and against) towns that existed and which in several cases exhibit destructions at this period…

Kitchen’s four deficient sites were: Makkedah, Yeriho, Ai, and Givon, and his suggested explanations were: erosion (Yeriho), wrong site (Ai), and most of the site still undug (Makkedah and Givon). Most scholars who have analyzed the sites listed as conquered in the book of Joshua have come out to more critical conclusions. See, e.g., Dever, pp. 54-72.

[84] Ramesses II died in 1213 BCE , Merneptah died in 1203, and Amenmesses died in 1200. Thereafter, Seti II died in 1194, Siptah died in 1188, Tewosret died in 1186, Setnakht died in 1184, and Ramesses III died in 1153. Should Moses have been born as late as 1250, by the time he reached the age of 80, his life would have spanned the deaths of Ramesess II, Merneptah, Amenmesses, Seti II, Siptah, Tewosret, and Setnakht.
[85] Indeed, Hoffmeier writes (What is the Biblical Date, p. 233):

[C]onstruction at Tell el-Dab‘a-Qantir is now documented under the previous reigns of Horemheb (1323-1295 BC) and Seti I (1294-1279) BC. This means that the oppression of the Hebrews could have begun decades before the reign of Ramesses II and culminated with the construction of Pi-Ramesses.

The construction by Horemhab involved renovations at the Temple of Seth and enlargement of a fortress. Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 309, Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 123, and Bietak, p. 10.

[86] Psalms 106:11:צריהם אחד מהם לא נותר מים ויכסו; Psalms 136:15: ונער פרעה וחילו בים-סוף.
[87] The New Kingdom comprises the 18th-20th dynasties, from Ahmose in the mid-16th century BCE to Ramesses XI, at the beginning of the 11th century BCE.
[88] Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 239. They were found in the Deir el-Bahri cache of royal mummies discovered in 1881.
[89] Wilson, p. 24.
[90] Ibid., p. 25. When this mummy was first examined, the salt deposits found were thought to provide evidence that Merneptah had drowned at sea. It was later realized that such deposits are found on most mummified remains and derive from the mummification process. Ibid., p. 24. All of the mummies of the 15th century BCE Pharaohs have been found. None indicate a death by drowning. Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 240.
[91] For example, one can understand פרעה at Psalms 136:15 to be a metaphor for Egypt. Hoffmeier points out (Ibid., p. 239) that even Cecil B. DeMille did not have Yul Brynner follow the Israelites into the sea! There are also rabbinic sources that take the view that Pharaoh survived. See, e.g., Mechilta, Beshalah, Masecheta Bet, parsha 6 (view of R. Nehemiah), and Pirkey de-Rabbi Eliezer, chap. 43. There is also an issue of whether these mummies are actually whom they purport to be. In June 2007, it was discovered that the mummy thought to have been that of Thutmose I was in fact that of another. The secretary–general of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities stated: “I am now questioning all the mummies. We have to check them all again.” This process, using CT scanning and DNA tests, is ongoing.
[92] I Ch. 5:29-36.
[93] I Ch. 6:18-23 and I Ch. 6:7-13.
[94] It would seem that the most logical approach would be to rely on the longest of these lists and to view the others as abbreviated. But Gary Rendsburg takes a different approach, and argues that the royal geneaology (David to Nahshon) should be considered the most reliable. Based on this, he argues for a 12th century BCE conquest and settlement. See his Rendsburg, “The Internal Consistency and Historical Reliability of the Biblical Genealogies,” Vetus Testamentum XL, 2 (1990), pp. 185-206, and “The Date of the Exodus and the Conquest/Settlement: The Case for the 1100S,” Vetus Testamentum XLII, 4 (1992), pp. 510-527. (With regard to the Merneptah Stele, he takes the position that the Stele refers to the Israelites as slaves in Egypt.)
[95] Some scholars postulate instead that the Israelites originated in Syria or Transjordan before they came to Canaan (and did not get to Transjordan following an Exodus).
[96] The original EJ had an entry “Exodus” (6:1042-1050) that discussed much of the material I have discussed and concluded that the evidence supported a 13th century BCE Exodus. Similar was the section “The Exodus and Wanderings in Sinai” (8:575-577) in the “History” entry. In contrast, the new EJ eliminated the “Exodus” entry, and completely revised the section in the “History” entry. The “History” entry now includes the following:

The discussion of the Exodus is connected with the Israelite Conquest of Canaan. Both of these events are not historical… Truth to tell, there was never any external evidence for the enslavement in Egypt and the subsequent exodus. Those scholars who supported some version of the enslavement tradition argued, irrelevantly, that no one would have made up a tale of enslavement, and that the tradition was persistent… The general consensus at present is that the people Israel arose in the land itself or perhaps from an area slightly to the east, with no indication of an Egyptian cultural past… [T]he tradition that the people of Israel originated outside the land serves to distance Israel from peoples to whom [they] were ethnically quite close…

The view that the Israelites obtained possession of Canaan mainly through a military conquest at the time of Joshua has also come under much attack in recent decades. The general consensus at present is that the settlement process was largely a peaceful infiltration into areas that had not been settled by the Canaanites. This rejection of the Conquest model contributes to Exodus denial, as many argue that if there was no Conquest, there was probably no Exodus. But the Exodus and Conquest are not dependent on one another. One can easily take the approach that most of the Israelites arrived in Canaan subsequent to an Exodus from Egypt but that the book of Joshua overdramatizes what happened thereafter.

[97] It is based largely on claims that the Israelite pottery of 1200-1000 BCE is similar to Canaanite pottery or reflects a natural evolution from it. But these interpertations are disputed by other scholars. Dever (p. 121) writes: “no issue in the current study of the early history of the Israelite people is as controversial as the above question. Debates rage among specialists, accompanied by acrimonious name-calling…” If there was no common historical past in Egypt, how the Israelites eventually coalesced into one nation requires explanation. The theory that all or most of the Israelites originated in Syria or Transjordan has practically no archaeological basis.
[98] See above, n. 41. As Lawrence Stager writes (quoted at Dever, p. 99):

This extraordinary increase in population in Iron I cannot be explained only by natural population growth of the few Late Bronze Age city-states in the region: there must have been a major influx of people into the highlands in the twelfth and eleventh centuries BCE….That many of these villages belonged to premonarchic Israel…is beyond doubt.

(Iron I is the period c. 1200-1000 BCE. The Late Bronze Age is the period c. 1550/1500-1200 BCE.) Kitchen jokingly suggests that if we do not accept an outside origin for the Israelites, the only other explanation for the huge population growth in highland Canaan between 1250/1200 and 1150 BCE is “a half century of fertility cult sex orgies.” See On the Reliability, pp. 226-27.

[99] See, e.g., Finkelstein, The Archaeology of the Israelite Settlements, pp. 27-33, and Dever, pp. 81, 84, 105 and 108. Some of the indications that a settlement is probably Israelite are: houses in the pillar-courtyard (=four room) style; stone-lined silos and collared-rim jars; the absence of pig bones; and the location of the settlement at a site which we know from later 10th century BCE sources to have been Israelite. Also, most early Israelite sites consist of only ordinarily dwellings without public buildings (e.g., a ruler’s quarter or storehouses).
[100]Adam Zertal has argued that the evidence from the different Israelite cooking pots in use in successive periods documents a movement by the Israelites in Canaan from east to west. Finkelstein has argued for such a movement based on successive pottery styles. See, e.g., Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 227-28, and 551, and Hawkins, Critical Issues, pp. 170-173. An east to west movement would be consistent with the Israelites having entered Canaan from the outside. But an east to west movement also fits approaches that view the Israelites as indigenous. (Finkelstein adopts such an approach). Many scholars find the evidence for an Israelite movement in Canaan from east to west unconvincing. There is now some evidence for possible Israelite settlement on the east side of the Jordan in the second half of the Late Bronze Age and the early Iron I Age. The evidence consists of sites with four room houses and/or collared-rim jars. See Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 198-199, and Hawkins, Critical Issues, p. 175.
[101] Even though Papyrus Ipuwer is often cited as an extra-Biblical source that confirms the plagues, and the extant copy of Papyrus Ipuwer dates from the New Kingdom, Egyptologists believe that Papyrus Ipuwer is merely a copy of a text composed many centuries earlier. See, e.g., Donald B. Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel in Ancient Times (1992), p. 66, and Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 72, n. 63. According to Redford, a passage from Papyrus Ipuwer was already excerpted in a 20th cent. BCE source.
[102] Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 466. The only administrative records found at Pi-Ramesse so far involve a handful of wine-jar dockets. To quote Kitchen: “[w]ine jars do not an Exodus record!”
[103] I.e., Egyptian taskmasters oversaw leaders drawn from the oppressed group.
[104] See, e.g., Kitchen, The Exodus, p. 704.
[105] Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 466, and Redmount, p. 89.
[106] Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 114. See also, Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 248.
[107] Kitchen, The Exodus, p. 703. For a recent discussion of the term apiru, see Patrick Mazani, “The Appearance of Israel in Canaan in Recent Scholarship,” in Critical Issues, pp. 105-107. Apiru is a reconstruction of the Egyptian pronounciation of the term (in the consonant-only Egyptian script). In other languages, this group of people are called Habiru or Hapiru. They are referred to in areas as far away as Syria and Mesopotamia. Hoffmeier, What is the Biblical Date, p. 242, n. 96. There are verses in Tanach which seem to distinguish between Israelites and ivrim. See, e.g., I Sam. 14:21-22. It has been suggested that such verses are referring to Apiru/Habiru/Hapiru.
[108] Kitchen, The Exodus, p. 701.
[109] One scholar who has focused on such an approach is Penina Galpaz-Feller. See her Yitziat Mitzrayim: Mitziyut o Dimyon (2002).
[110] Ibid., pp. 80-85.
[111] See, e.g., Kitchen, On the Reliability, pp. 253-54.
[112] For further references, see Gerald A. Klingbeil, “ ‘Between North and South’; The Archaeology of Religion in Late Bronze Age Palestine and the Period of the Settlement,” in Critical Issues, pp. 124-126.
[113] Kitchen, The Exodus, p. 707. This article belongs in the new EJ in an “Exodus” entry!
[114] I must disclose that Kitchen takes the approach here (p. 705) that the Exodus only involved about 72,000 Israelites, relying on a redefinition of the word אלף. A reduced number of Israelites involved in the Exodus helps explain why no evidence has been found in the Sinai of the Israelite wandering. A reduced number is also much more consistent with the recent population estimates of the ancient Israelite settlements in the period from the 13th through the 11th centuries BCE. (See Dever, p. 98, for some of these estimates.) In his On the Reliability, p. 265, Kitchen reduces his estimate of the number of Israelites who left in the Exodus to about 20,000. He estimates the total population of Canaan thereafter (including the Israelites) to have been about 50,000 to 70,000. It has been argued that if the Israelites were served by only 2 midwives (see Ex. 1:15), the Israelite population in Egypt at that stage could not have been in the hundreds of thousands. It has also been suggested that the tradition of 2 midwives has its roots in an alternative tradition of the number of Israelites enslaved.
[115] The above was my summary of a much longer passage. This material from Hecateus was preserved in Diodorus (1st cent. BCE.). We know of the Diodorus material from Photius (9th cent. CE). The passage is printed and translated in Menahem Stern, Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, vol. 1 (1974), pp. 27-29.
[116] The story is preserved in Josephus, Against Apion, I, commencing with para. 75.
[117] Josephus argues for this equation as well.
[118] According to modern scholars, the Hyksos were driven out of Egypt in a series of campaigns by the Pharaohs of the 17th and 18th dynasties. See, e.g., Redmount, p. 108. One of the Pharaohs of the 17th dynasty who led a campaign against the Hyksos was named Kamose (1555-1550). Perhaps we see echoes of this name in the name Misphragmouthosis. The next king mentioned by Manetho, as preserved in Josephus, sounds like a reference to Thutmose. The reference could be to Thutmose I (1504-1492), Thutmose II (1492-1479), Thutmose III (1479-1425), or Thutmose IV (1400-1390). But based on versions of Manetho preserved in other sources (which refer to Amosis, Amos or Amoses), the reference seems to be to Ahmose, the first king of the 18th dynasty. See John Day, “The Pharaoh of the Exodus, Josephus and Jubilees,” Vetus Testamentum XLV, 3 (1995), p. 377. Ahmose is known to have led a campaign against the Hyksos. He reigned 25 years (1550-1525).
[119] Manetho continues with the names of the kings who reigned over the next several centuries. Some are identifiable. For example, he lists “Harmesses Miamoun” as reigning sixty-six years and two months. Surely, this is Ramesses II.
[120] Josephus, Against Apion I, commencing with para. 230.
[121] Josephus, Against Apion I, para. 229.
[122] The exact identification of the king intended is unclear. He is probably one of the four kings named Amenhotep. See, e.g., the note by H. St. J. Thackeray at p. 257 in Josephus, Against Apion I (Loeb Classical Library edition) (suggesting Amenhotep III or IV) and Day, p. 378 (suggesting a conflation of Amenhotep IV and Merneptah).
[123] Victor Tcherikover, Hellenistic Civilization and the Jews (tr. by S. Applebaum, 1959), pp. 361-362.
[124] Manetho adds that he changed his name to Moses when he went over to these people.



The Origin of Ta‘anit Esther

The Origin of Ta‘anit Esther

By Mitchell First

Introduction

The origin of this fast has always been a mystery. A fast on the 13th of Adar is not mentioned in the Megillah. Nor is such a fast mentioned in Tannaitic or Amoraic literature. Megillat Ta‘anit, compiled in the first century C.E., includes the 13th of Adar as a day upon which Jews were prohibited from fasting. A widespread view today is that the fast arose as a post-Talmudic custom intended to commemorate the three days of fasting initiated by Esther in Nissan. There are Rishonim who take this approach.[1] But Geonic Babylonia is where the fast first arose and this approach is not expressed in any of the sources from Geonic Babylonia. Moreover, the statements in these sources are inconsistent with this approach. I am going to suggest an approach to the origin of the fast that is consistent with the material in the Babylonian Geonic sources.

I. The Earliest Sources That Refer To A Practice Of Fasting On The 13th

The earliest sources that refer to a practice of fasting on the 13th are the following: – One of the four she’iltot for Purim included in the She’iltot of R. Ahai Gaon, a work composed in 8th century Babylonia. – An anonymous Babylonian Geonic responsum that made its way into Midrash Tanhuma (Bereshit, sec. 3). (The discussion in this responsum and in the She’iltot is very similar.) – A responsum of R. Natronai, head of the academy at Sura from 857-865 C.E. This responsum refers to the fast as פורים תענית. [2] – The Siddur of R. Se‘adyah (882-942).[3] Here, the fast is referred to as אלמגלה צום (=the fast of the Megillah).[4] The Siddur of R. Se‘adyah was composed in Babylonia.[5] – An index to a collection of Babylonian Geonic responsa.[6] The compiler of the index recorded the first few words of each responsum. In our case, the compiler recorded: לנפול אנו רגילין באדר יוש יג[7] ובתענית. The responsum itself is no longer extant. The responsum itself is no longer extant. – A responsum addressed to R. Hai (d. 1038).[8] This responsum inquires whether, in the case of a hakhnasat kallah that occurs on a fast day such as the 13th of Adar, the one who makes the blessing on the kos of berakhah is permitted to drink. – An anonymous Babylonian Geonic responsum that includes the following statement: השני אדר של כי”ג מתענין נמי הראשון אדר של וי”ג.[9] II. Analysis According to Robert Brody, the four she’iltot for Purim were probably not in the original She’iltot when it left the hands of R. Ahai in the 8th century. They were authored in a later stage.[10] She’ilta #79, the one which refers to fasting on the 13th of Adar, is even more problematic than the other three. After the first few lines in Aramaic, the balance of this she’ilta is almost entirely in Hebrew, unlike the rest of the She’iltot. Careful comparison of she’ilta #79 with the Geonic responsum that made its way into Midrash Tanhuma suggests that the Geonic responsum is the earlier source.[11] It is reasonable to work with the assumption that this responsum dates from the eighth or ninth centuries. This responsum adopts a very unusual interpretation of the sections of the Mishnah at the beginning of Tractate Megillah. These sections permit villagers to fulfill their Megillah obligation on the 11th, 12th, or 13th of Adar, on yom ha-kenisah, under certain conditions. In the plain sense of these sections, yom ha-kenisah refers to Mondays and Thursdays, and the teaching is that the reading for the villagers is allowed to be advanced to these days when the villagers enter, or gather in, the cities. But in the interpretation adopted by the Geonic responsum, yom ha-kenisah means the fast of the 13th of Adar (= the day on which the Jews gather to fast). The reading for the villagers is allowed to be advanced because the date of the observance of the fast day is being advanced due to a prohibition to fast on shabbat and ‘erev shabbat that is being read into the Mishnah. In this interpretation, the advanced fast day is a day upon which the reading for the villagers is allowed. The Geonic responsum included in Midrash Tanhuma reads as follows: They asked: It was taught that the Megillah may be read on the 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th and 15th, but not earlier or later. R. Judah said that this rule is only in effect when the calendar is established by the testimony of witnesses and Israel dwells on its own land, but in our times…the Megillah can only be read on the proper date (=the 14th or 15th). Does the halakha follow the first opinion or does it follow R. Judah? They responded: According to both R. Judah and the first opinion, the Megillah can only be read on the proper date. The following is what the first opinion meant. Towns that were surrounded by walls at the time of Joshua son of Nun read on the 15th. Villages and cities read on the 14th, but villages may advance their reading to yom ha-kenisah. When the Mishnah taught that the Megillah may be read on the 11th, 12th, 13th, etc., that applied to one who is engaged in fasting, as it was taught at the end of the Mishnah: “but villages may advance their reading to yom ha-kenisah.” What is yom ha-kenisah? The day of gathering, as it is stated (Meg. 2a): The thirteenth was a day of gathering for all (Heb: yom[12] kehillah la-kol hiy), as it is written (Est. 9:1-2): “in the 12th month, the month of Adar, on its thirteenth day… the Jews gathered themselves (Heb: nikhalu) in their cities.” They gathered themselves and decreed a fast on the 13th of Adar. But the 14th was a holiday, as it is written (Est. 9:17) “and they rested on its 14th and made it a day of feasting and gladness.” In Shushan ha-birah, they only rested on the 15th. Therefore, Shushan and all walled towns read on the 15th and make that a festive day. When the Mishnah taught that “the Megillah may be read (on the 11th, 12th, 13th …)” that concerned one who is engaged in fasting, because it is forbidden to engage in fasting on shabbat. If the 14th falls on the first day of the week, it is forbidden to fast on shabbat. It is also forbidden to fast on ‘erev shabbat, because of the necessity of preparing for shabbat. Rather, the fast is advanced to Thursday, which is the 11th of Adar. If the 14th falls on shabbat, it is forbidden to fast on ‘erev shabbat because of the necessity of preparing for shabbat. The primary reason for a fast day is the recital of selihot and rahamim, and reciting these (instead of preparing for shabbat) will detract from honoring the shabbat. Honoring the shabbat is more important than a thousand fasts, for honoring the shabbat is a commandment from the Torah, while the fast is a rabbinic decree (Heb: ta‘anit de-rabbanan). The Torah commandment of honoring the shabbat takes precedence over the fast, a rabbinic decree. Hence the fast is advanced to Thursday, the 12th. If the 14th falls on ‘erev shabbat, the fast is observed on Thursday, which is the 13th. This is set forth in the Mishnah. How does this occur? If it falls on a Monday, villages and cities read that day and walled towns read the next day. If it falls on shabbat or the first day of the week, villages advance the reading to yom ha-kenisah, etc. But when the 9th of Av falls on shabbat, the fast is postponed until after shabbat, since this fast was instituted as a punishment. Therefore, the fast is postponed and not advanced. One of the cases discussed in the above responsum is the case of the 14th falling on shabbat. Almost certainly, this was not something still occuring at the time this responsum was composed.[13] This suggests, as does a close reading of the responsum, that the responsum is not describing a practice of fasting on the 13th that was occurring in its time. It is only interpreting M. Megillah 1:1-2, the ninth chapter of the book of Esther, and a statement in the Talmud (Meg. 2a: yod-gimmel zeman kehillah la-kol hiy), and describing a practice of fasting on the 13th that theoretically occurred in ancient times, according to the interpretations it was offering. The interpretation of yom ha-kenisah expressed in the Geonic responsum is far from its plain sense. If M. Megillah 1:1-2 was referring to the advancement of the reading to a fast day, the term we would expect it to use would be yom ha-ta‘anit. Moreover, M. Megillah 1:3 includes the following statement by R. Judah: “When [may the reading be advanced]? In a place where they enter (makom she-nikhnasin) on Monday and Thursday.” This strongly suggests that the term yom ha-kenisah at M. Megillah 1:1-2 refers to Mondays and Thursdays. Finally, an anonymous Talmudic discussion at Megillah 4a-b understands yom ha-kenisah as a reference to Mondays and Thursdays.[14] The interpretations expressed of Est. 9:1-2 and of the Talmudic statement yod-gimmel zeman kehillah la-kol hiy are far from plain sense interpretations as well. The critical question in determining the origin of the fast of the 13th of Adar is what motivated these unusual interpretations. Obviously, one possible motivation was an attempt to justify an existing practice to fast on the 13th. But I am going to suggest something entirely different that motivated these interpretations. Then we can understand the practice of fasting on the 13th as having originated as a consequence of the interpretations. As I mentioned, the responsum included in Midrash Tanhuma was from Babylonian Geonim, and it is reasonable to work with the assumption that it dates from the eighth or ninth centuries. As documented in my article, a major issue of halakha in this period was the permissibility of fasting on shabbat.[15] The unusual interpretations can be explained under the assumption that the authors were responding to and opposing contemporary practices of fasting on shabbat and ‘erev shabbat. Interpreting yom ha-kenisah the way they did enabled them to cite M. Megillah 1:1-2 as a source which prohibited fasting on shabbat and ‘erev shabbat. In their interpretation, the reading for the villagers is allowed to be advanced because the date of the observance of the fast day is being advanced, due to a prohibition to fast on shabbat and ‘erev shabbat that they were reading into the Mishnah. The practices that the authors of the unusual interpretations could have been responding to could have been: 1) the practice in Babylonia of fasting on the shabbat before Yom Kippur, 2) practices in Babylonia of fasting on shabbat as a form of repentance or piety, or by those whose ideal shabbat consisted of studying or praying all day, or by those who enjoyed fasting, or 3) practices of fasting on shabbat in Palestine in the above contexts. It is also possible that the main motivation of the authors of the unusual interpretations was opposition to a practice of fasting on ‘erev shabbat. I suggest that the unusual interpretations expressed in the Geonic responsum arose as a result of one or more of these polemical motivations. This led M. Megillah 1:1-2 to be interpreted to imply a prohibition to fast on shabbat and ‘erev shabbat. A new “tradition” about an ancient fast on the 13th of Adar was the result. One clue that the authors were responding to contemporary practices of fasting on shabbat and ‘erev shabbat is that the responsum includes a polemical line stressing the importance of honoring the shabbat: “honoring the shabbat is more important than a thousand fasts…”[16] The early 9th century polemical letter of Pirkoy ben Baboy uses almost the same language: “One who delights in one shabbat is greater than one who sacrifices a thousand sacrifices and (fasts) a thousand fasts.”[17] The main weakness with my approach to the origin of the fast is the argument that it is not likely that a Mishnah would be polemically interpreted to such an extent that the interpretation would result in the observance of a new (assumed to be ancient) fast day. My response is that those who authored the interpretation did not foresee that a new fast day would come be observed as a result of their interpretation. That the fast of the 13th of Adar did not arise as commemoration of the three days of fasting initiated by Esther is seen from the name for the fast day in the earliest sources. The responsum of R. Natronai is the earliest source that refers to the fast by a name, and it refers to the fast as Ta‘anit Purim. Of the four sources in the Geonic period from Babylonia and its environs that refer to the fast by a name, most likely none of them calls it Ta‘anit Esther.[18] When the Babylonian Geonic sources express or imply something about the origin of the fast, what is consistently expressed or implied is that the fast is a rabbinic obligation, and not merely a post-Talmudic custom. For example, the Geonic responsum included in Midrash Tanhuma refers to the fast as a de-rabbanan. Moreover, an anonymous Geonic responsum takes the position that, in a leap year, one fasts even on the 13th of the first Adar. Most likely, it takes this position because it views fasting on the 13th of Adar as an obligation, based on the interpretation of Est. chap. 9 expressed in the Geonic responsum included in Midrash Tanhuma. If it viewed the fast as a post-Talmudic custom meant to commemorate fasting that took place in Nissan, a fast on the 13th of the second Adar would almost certainly have been viewed as sufficient. In my article, I documented four sources that refer to a Palestinian practice of fasting three days (on a Monday-Thursday-Monday cycle) in Adar. These sources are: Massekhet Soferim (chaps. 17 and 21), and three other sources that have come to light from the Genizah. The Palestinian practice almost certainly was a commemoration of the three days of fasting initiated by Esther in Nissan.[19] That the Palestinian practice was understood as a commemoration of the three days of fasting initiated by Esther probably contributed to the name for the Babylonian fast of the 13th evolving into Ta‘anit Esther.[20]

 

This essay is a brief summary of my recent article that appeared in Mitchell First, “The Origin of Ta’anit Esther,” AJS Review 34:2 (November 2010): 309-351, and is adapted with the permission of Cambridge University Press.
[1] An early example is probably Maimonides. An erroneous period and vav (the vav of ובי”ג) made their way into the standard printed text of his Hilkhot Ta‘aniyyot 5:5, after the sixth word. (The necessary corrections have already been made in the Frankel edition.) The corrected text reads: המן בימי שהתענו לתענית זכר באדר בי”ג להתענות אלו בזמנים ישראל כל ונהגו (Est. 9:31) שנאמר דברי הצומות וזעקתם… Maimonides clearly states that the custom of fasting on the 13th is only of recent origin, and that it is a commemoration of a fast that took place in the time of Haman, i.e., in Nissan. Maimonides is forced to cite to Est. 9:31 because chapter 4 does not expressly state that the Jews of Shushan fasted in response to Esther’s request.
[2] Robert Brody, Teshuvot Rav Natronai Bar Hilai Ga’on, 303-04, responsum # 177.
[3] Siddur Rav Se‘adyah Ga’on, eds. Israel Davidson, Simhah Assaf, and Yissakhar Joel, 258 and 319-338.
[4] Ibid., 319.
[5] It was not composed in Palestine, where R. Se‘adyah lived earlier. Ibid., intro., 22-23.
[6] Louis Ginzberg, Geonica, vol. 2, 67-68.
[7] Ginzberg suggests that the correct reading is shel or yom.
[8] Shelomoh Wertheimer, Sefer Kohelet Shelomoh, 14.
[9] Louis Ginzberg, Ginzey Schechter, vol. 2, 136.
[10] Brody, Le-Toledot Nusah Ha-She’iltot, 186 n. 5, and The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, 209 n. 29. Structurally, they are deficient as she’iltot. Also, there is some variation in the manuscripts with regard to their location in the work. This suggests that they were later additions, attemped to be integrated into an already fixed work.
[11] It is organized and concise, and seems to reflect an attempt to record an official interpretation of M. Megillah 1:1-2. She’ilta #79, on the other hand, seems to be taking for granted an already established explanation of M. Megillah 1:1-2 that it is reiterating and commenting upon.
[12] Megillah 2a and she’ilta #79 have zeman instead of yom.
[13] When the 14th of Adar falls on shabbat, the upcoming Yom Kippur would fall on Friday. Already in the time of R. Yose b. Bun (c. 300), the 14th of Adar was not being allowed to fall on shabbat or Monday, so that Yom Kippur would not fall on Friday or Sunday. See Y. Megillah 1:2 (70b), EJ 5:49, and Yosef Tabory, Mo‘adey Yisra’eil Bi-Tekufat Ha-Mishnah Ve-Ha-Talmud, 28. See also Rosh Ha-Shanah 20a. She’ilta #79 stated explicitly that the 14th of Adar no longer fell on shabbat in its time.
[14] The severe difficulties with interpreting yom ha-kenisah as the 13th of Adar are noted by many authorities. Interestingly, there exists a manuscript of Megillah 2a (NY-Columbia X 893 T141) in which this interpretation (taken from the She’iltot) is included on the Talmudic page. The statement included is: למכתב צריך ולא בעריהם נקהלו היהודים שנ׳ היא לכל קהילה זמן עשר שלשה אחא רב פיר׳ …לתענית ישראל בו שמתכנסין תענית יום דהוא It is therefore incorrect to state that the fast of the 13th of Adar is nowhere mentioned in the Talmud!
[15] See my article, 335-339. Much of the relevant material is found at Ozar Ha-Ge’onim, Yom Tov, secs. 41-49.
[16] The material in the Geonic responsum and in she’ilta #79 is very similar. But the passage “honoring the shabbat is more important than a thousand fasts” is found only in the Geonic responsum. The fact that the responsum does not illustrate seven scenarios, but only illustrates the scenarios of the 14th falling on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, also suggests that the main motivation for its interpretations was related to shabbat and ‘erev shabbat.
[17] Ozar Ha-Ge’onim, Yom Tov, 20, sec. 41. This was a polemical letter written to the Jews of North Africa and Spain, instructing them that Palestinian customs should not be followed. Pirkoy, a Babylonian Jew, tells us that he was a disciple of someone named Rava who was a disciple of R. Yehudai. (R. Yehudai was head of the academy at Sura from approximately 757-761 C.E.) Pirkoy writes that many of the Palestinian customs originated as emergency measures during times of persecution, or were customs resulting from ignorance. It was only in Babylonia that accurate traditions were preserved. Among the Palestinian practices that Pirkoy criticizes was their practice of fasting on shabbat.
[18] The four are: R. Natronai, R. Se‘adyah, Al-Biruni, and the expanded version of Seder Parshiyyot Shel Yamim Tovim Ve-Haftarot Shelahen. R. Natronai refers to the fast as Ta‘anit Purim. R. Se‘adyah refers to the fast as אלמגלה צום. Al-Biruni, a Moslem scholar of Persian origin (writing in 1000 CE), calls the day “the fasting of Alburi” (Purim). Seder Parshiyyot probably dates from the late ninth or early tenth century. It includes a shortened version of the responsum of R. Natronai that had referred to the fast. There are only three manuscripts of the expanded version of Seder Parshiyyot, none of which was actually copied in Geonic Babylonia. Two of the manuscripts read Ta‘anit Esther, while one reads Ta‘anit Purim. Since R. Natronai’s original responsum read Ta‘anit Purim, it seems likely that the manuscript of Seder Parshiyyot that reflects this reading has preserved the original reading and that the other reading originated with a copyist altering the name to fit the name for the fast prevailing in his locale. Massekhet Soferim refers to sheloshet yemey zom Mordekhai ve-Esther. But the reference is to the Palestinian practice of fasting three days on a Monday-Thursday-Monday cycle. Massekhet Soferim was most likely composed in the 9th or 10th century, in a community under Palestinian influence, such as Italy or Byzantium. See Debra Reed Blank, “It’s Time to Take Another Look at at “Our Little Sister” Soferim: A Bibliographical Essay, JQR 90 (1999): 4 n. 10, and M. B. Lerner, “The External Tractates,” in The Literature of the Sages, ed. Shmuel Safrai, 399-400.
[19] This Palestinian practice may even have preceded the Babylonian practice of fasting on the 13th, although this cannot be proven.
[20] See my article, 333, n. 98. The fast of the 13th was already known in some areas as Ta‘anit Esther by the 11th century. Ibid., 332-333.



Some Observations Regarding the Mah Nishtannah

Some Observations Regarding the Mah Nishtannah[1]
by: Mitchell First

1. It is well-known that the Mishnah in the tenth chapter of Pesachim includes a set of mah nishtannah. But if one opens a standard printed Babylonian Talmud (Pes. 116a), one sees four questions[2] in the text of the Mishnah (matzah, maror, roast, and dipping), while if one opens a standard printed Jerusalem Talmud, one sees three (dipping, matzah and roast). Is this an instance of a disagreement between the text of the Mishnah preserved in Babylonia and the text of the Mishnah preserved in Palestine? There are such disagreements,[3] but this is not one of them. Here, the manuscript evidence points overwhelmingly to the conclusion that the original text of the Mishnah recorded only the questions of dipping, matzah and roast.[4] Moreover, if one opens up a standard Masechet Pesachim of the Babylonian Talmud and looks at the text of the Mishnah recorded in the Rif and the Rosh, one sees that they too record a Mishnah which included only the questions of dipping, matzah and roast. Also, Rambam utilized a text of the Mishnah which included only these three questions.[5] Let us see how the Encyclopaedia Judaica in its original and new editions deal with this issue. When Daniel Goldschmidt published his classic work on the Haggadah in 1960, after earlier German and Hebrew versions,[6] he clearly took the position that the original text of the Mishnah included only three questions.[7] It was therefore somewhat surprising when the “Mah Nishtannah” entry in the original Encyclopaedia Judaica (published in 1972 and written by the anonymous editors) stated that “[t]he Mishnah enumerates four questions.” In its bibliography, this entry had cited only Goldschmidt’s 1960 work, and one other less scholarly source.[8] We are now in the 21st century. There is now a widespread consensus among scholars that the original text of the Mishnah included only three questions.[9] But when one looks at the new edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica, one finds only a reprint of the original entry![10] —— 2. A widely quoted explanation of the Vilna Gaon takes the positions that there were always four questions, and that, after the churban, the roast question was substituted by the reclining question.[11] We have already seen that the first of these positions is incorrect. The Haggadah fragments found in the Cairo Genizah show that the second of these positions is incorrect as well. Genizah material generally dates from the 10th through the 13th centuries.[12] It is reasonable to assume that this is roughly the period of the Haggadah fragments from the Genizah.[13] Of course, not all of the Haggadah fragments from the Genizah span the mah nishtannah section. But of those that do, many include the roast question.[14] (The survival of the roast question for 1000 years, post-churban, has been implicitly acknowledged in the Haggadah shel Pesach, Torat Chayim, published by Mossad ha-Rav Kook, at p. 29, n. 59.) [15] Furthermore, although most of the mah nishtannah Haggadah fragments found in the Genizah record four questions the way they are asked today,[16] we also find the following:[17] -Several record three questions: matzah, dipping, and roast,[18] just like the original text of the Mishnah. Most likely, the fragments with these three questions reflect the original Palestinian tradition of the Haggadah,[19] which followed the text of the Mishnah, and the fragments with four questions reflect the Babylonian tradition,[20] which gradually penetrated into Palestine and its surrounding areas.[21] -One records the following three questions: dipping, matzah and reclining.[22] -One records five questions: dipping, matzah, roast, maror, and reclining.[23] (See the photograph in M. Kasher, Haggadah Shelemah, p. 93.) In this fragment, the roast question is phrased:… צלי כולו המקדש בבית אוכלים היינו הזה והלילה. This is the only fragment in which the roast question is phrased with such a qualification. [24] -Two record only the questions of dipping and roast.[25] (But there does not appear to be any reason why the matzah question would have been intentionally discontinued. Perhaps the matzah question was accidentally dropped by a scribe in one source, and further copies were later made from that source. It would have been easy for a scribe to accidentally turn his eye to the wrong mah nishtannah line in the source he was copying from, and thereby omit a question.) – One records only the questions of dipping and matzah. I would like to focus on this last source, which is not actually a Haggadah fragment, but is a section of an anonymous Geonic responsum which includes an outline of the procedures at the seder. It can be deduced that the responsum was composed in Babylonia because it includes avadim hayyinu, which was not a part of the Palestinian seder ritual in this period.[26] This responsum was published by Louis Ginzberg, in his Ginzey Schechter, vol. 2, pp. 258-260. [27] Theoretically, it is possible to argue that the author of this responsum gave only an abbreviated version of the mah nishtannah, and listed only the first two questions, even though his practice was four. This seems to be the understanding of Ginzberg, who writes (p. 259, n. 1): הראשונות השאלות ‘ב אלא כאן נאמרו ולא נתקצר נשתנה מה נוסח. B.M. Lewin included this responsum in his Otzar ha-Geonim, Pesachim (pp. 154-55), and he seems to agree with Ginzberg. (See p. 154, n. 13: נתקצר נשתנה מה נוסח.) But this interpretation seems very unlikely. The whole purpose of the responsum was to spell out the procedures and text of the seder. Abbrevation here would have defeated its purpose. The Safrais take a different approach to this responsum in their monumental work, Haggadat Hazal. They write (p. 64, n. 53) that the third and fourth questions are העמוד בסוף חסרות, implying that these questions were originally included in this responsum but were cut off. Moreover, in their chart on p. 266, they put brackets over a supposed area of the third and fourth questions in this responsum, implying that these questions were once there. They take this approach so that the set of questions in our responsum could then parallel the set of questions found in the other known Babylonian Geonic sources of the Haggadah text: Seder R. Amram Gaon, Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon, and the Haggadah text published in 1984 by M. Lehman.[28] All these sources record the standard four questions: dipping, matzah, maror, and reclining.[29] But I was able to view an image of the responsum (T-S Misc.36.179), and with the kind permission of the Cambridge University Library, have included this image at the end of this article. It is clear that the third and fourth questions were never there. The first side of the fragment ends with the last words of the matzah question (the last three words of this question were written below the last regular line), and the next side continues immediately with avadim hayyinu. It is clear from the image that there are no missing lines in between. Assuming we reject the unlikely interpretation of Ginzberg, this source records a two-question set in Babylonia.[30] The idea that we have now been able to “excavate” such a set, evidence of a period before four questions became the universal practice there, is truly remarkable. An issue remains whether the responsum dates to the period before the maror and reclining questions were added in any Babylonian communities, or whether it dates to a period after they were added, but was composed in a community which did not add them. The latter seems more likely. (The responsum does have at least one other unique aspect.[31] It includes the statement: חורים בני היום[ו] עבדים היינו אתמול. The Safrais discuss this statement at p. 111 and do not mention any other fragments from the Genizah with this language.[32] On the image at the end of this article, this statement is found on the first page, six lines above the last full line.) Regarding the issue of when the maror and reclining questions were added, the following are some reasonable observations that have been made by scholars to date: ◦ The reclining question was probably the last question to be added.[33] Unlike the maror question, it did not make its way into in any manuscripts of the Mishnah,[34] and in all communities, it is the last question of the set.[35] ◦ The maror question probably did not arise until after the text of the dipping question was changed in Babylonia (see Pes. 116a[36]) and the dipping question lost its connotation as a maror question. Once the dipping question lost this connotation, it was probably viewed as necessary to add a question relating to maror.[37] ◦ The reclining question probably originated in Babylonia as well.[38] It was probably added, after the maror question, due to a desire to fix the number of questions at four, parallel to the themes of four cups of wine and four sons.[39] Aside from Haggadah fragments found in the Genizah, the earliest sources which include the reclining question are: Seder R. Amram Gaon,[40] Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon,[41] and the Geonic Haggadah text published by Lehman in 1984. (With regard to Seder R. Amram Gaon, it is accepted that many additions and changes were made to it in the centuries after R. Amram’s death, c. 875. The three surviving manuscripts of the work are only from the 14th-16th centuries. See D. Goldschmidt, Seder R. Amram Gaon, pp. 11-13. With regard to the Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon, the material in our possession has traditionally been viewed as representing a generally reliable version of the original 10th century work by R. Saadiah.[42] With regard to the Geonic Haggadah text published by Lehman, see above, n. 28.) —— 3. A main issue of debate among scholars has been whether the mah nishtannah set of the Mishnah reflects questions from Temple times. If we focus on the roast question ( הלילה הזה כולו צלי ), a reasonable initial assumption is that this question is referring to the pesach sacrifice, since the pesach sacrifice was something that was required to be roasted. This would suggest that this question, and hence perhaps all the questions, were composed during Temple times. But many scholars argue that the roast question is not referring to the pesach sacrifice and that this question was composed after the churban (and hence, the other questions probably were as well.) They make the following arguments: 1. A practice arose after the churban, approved (or perhaps initiated) by Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh, of eating a gedi mekulas as a method of commemorating the pesach sacrifice.[43] See Betzah 2:6-7 and Eduyyot 3:10-11. (Although these two sources do not specify that the Rabban Gamliel they are referring to is Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh, it seems fairly clear, for a variety of reasons, that this is the case here.[44]) The meaning of the term mekulas is subject to debate.[45] Nevertheless, it is clear that the gedi mekulas was not designated as a pesach sacrifice, but was arranged on the spit during the roasting process in the same manner as a pesach sacrifice, and was roasted in its entirety just like a pesach sacrifice. See Tosef. Betzah 2:11 (איזהו גדי מקולס? כולו צלי ראשו וכרעיו וקרבו ) and Pes. 74a.[46] The Sages prohibited the gedi mekulas,[47] but it is possible that a large section of Jewry followed the leniency of Rabban Gamliel and engaged in this practice.[48] The roast question could have been composed post-churban in an area which followed this practice and could be referring to this practice.[49] 2. The Mishnah at Pesachim 4:4 records:מקום שנהגו לאכול צלי בלילי פסחים, אוכלים; מקום שנהגו שלא לאכול, אינן אוכלין. It is possible that this Mishnah was composed during Temple times and is referring to a practice of eating roast meat on the seder night outside the Temple. But just as likely, this Mishnah was composed after the churban and is referring to a post-churban practice of eating roast meat[50] as a commemoration of the pesach sacrifice. It is possible to understand the roast question in the Mishnah as composed, post-churban, in an area which followed this practice and as referring to this practice.[51] But (as pointed out to me by my friend Sam Borodach) the precise phrasing of the roast question does not support either of these interpretations. When read in light of the parallel matzah question, the roast question implies that the question is about a required behavior of the evening. While there were areas which had a custom on this evening, post-churban, to eat a gedi mekulas or to eat roast meat, these were not required behaviors. It is hard to imagine the roast question phrased the way it was by someone composing it with the above optional commemorative behaviors in mind. The language of the roast question, read in light of the parallel matzah question, fits the pesach sacrifice best.[52] Does it follow from this interpretation that the roast question was composed during Temple times? Not necessarily. Even if the roast question is referring to the pesach sacrifice, it very possibly could have been composed after the churban, as a simulation of a question that might have been asked during Temple times. Once the idea for a mah nishtannah question about matzah took hold, it would be have been natural and instructive to create a parallel question covering such an important commandment as the pesach sacrifice, even if the pesach sacrifice was no longer being offered. (All the more so if practices commemorating the pesach sacrifice were ongoing!) (It is also possible to understand the roast question as having been composed post-churban if the pesach sacrifice itself continued after the churban.[53] But the evidence for this is weak.[54]) The Mishnah that concerns us, Pesachim 10:4, is found in the last chapter of this masechet. This suggests that this Mishnah was composed after the churban, since it is reasonable to presume that mishnayot that are presented in the early parts of a masechet were composed first and that mishnayot that are presented later were composed later.[55] Moreover, there is specific evidence suggesting that this particular chapter was composed after the churban. Mishnah 10:3 includes the statement:ובמקדש מביאין לפניו גופו של פסח. This statement suggests that the normative statements in this chapter describe only post-churban practice.[56] Of course, the questions themselves could still reflect questions from earlier times, which were recorded in a chapter composed after the churban. Based on recent scholarly developments, a new argument can be made to support the idea that the questions were composed post-churban. The mah nishtannah is not included in the tenth chapter of the Tosefta. This chapter includes much material parallel to the tenth chapter of the Mishnah. In his Tosefta Atikta, published in 2002, Shamma Friedman studied the relationship between the Mishnah and Tosefta of Pesachim in the first four chapters and in the tenth chapter.[57] He came to the conclusion that the material in the Tosefta in these chapters seems to have originated earlier.[58] If Friedman is correct, this also tends to support a post-churban origin for the mah nishtannah. So far, I have not discussed the precise role that the mah nishtannah serve in the Mishnah. But most likely, the mah nishtannah of the Mishnah was not a mandated piece of liturgy to be recited by the father or a typical son. Rather, it was what the child who lacks understanding is taught to ask (…מה נשתנה אביו מלמדו, אם אין דעת בבן).[59] This also perhaps implies that the mah nishtannah text was a later development. ——– Note finally that the Talmud, at Pes. 70a, records and accepts a statement by R. Hisda that the roast question was authored by Ben Tema. Ben Tema took the position that the chagigah too had to be roasted. In the view of R. Hisda, the language of the roast question, הלילה הזה כולו צלי, fit the position of Ben Tema only. Ben Tema is only mentioned at Pes. 70a and Yoma 83a and there is not enough information to determine if he lived during Temple times. (Some suggest that he is to be identified with R. Judah Ben Tema, who probably dates to the second century C.E,[60] but this identification is only conjecture.) The above statement of R. Hisda is not recorded again at Pes. 116a, where one would expect it.[61] R. Hisda’s statement is also surprising, because it takes an overly literal approach to the roast question. There is also no statement in the Jerusalem Talmud expressing the view that the roast question was authored by Ben Tema.[62] ———- To summarize, it is possible that the mah nishtannah was composed during Temple times, but it also possible that it was composed post-churban. In support of the latter is that the mah nishtannah is found in the last chapter of the masechet, and in a chapter whose normative language suggests that it was composed post-churban. The inclusion of a question about roast meat is not inconsistent with this approach. This question could have been composed post-churban in an area which followed the post-churban practice of preparing a gedi mekulas or in an area which followed the post-churban practice of eating roast meat. More likely, if the question was composed post-churban, it is referring to the pesach sacrifice and was composed for educational purposes, as a simulation of a question that might have been asked during Temple times. The fact that the mah nishtannah is not included in the Tosefta may also support a post-churban origin for it. ——— Cambridge University Library T-S Misc.36.179 (reproduced by kind permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library)

[1] I would like to acknowledge Dr. Jay Rovner, Rabbi Mordy Friedman, and Sam Borodach for their thoughts and assistance. The views expressed are solely my own. Several sources will be cited throughout: -D. Goldschmidt, Haggadah shel Pesach (1960), cited as “Goldschmidt.” -M. Kasher, Haggadah Shelemah (third ed., 1967), cited as “Kasher.” -Y. Tabory, Pesach Dorot (1996), cited as “Tabory.” -S. and Z. Safrai, Haggadat Chazal (1998), cited as “Safrai.” -S. Friedman, Tosefta Atikta: Masechet Pesach Rishon (2002), cited as “Friedman.” -R. Steiner, “On the Original Structure and Meaning of Mah Nishtannah and the History of Its Reinterpretation,” JSIJ 7 (2008), pp. 1-41, cited as “Steiner.”[2] I will call them questions, even though some have argued that they are best understood, in the context of Mishnah 10:4, as explanations or exclamations. See, e.g., Safrai, pp. 31 and 206, and the sources cited by Steiner, pp. 21-22. Steiner strongly defends the traditional understanding of the mah nishtannah as questions (actually, as one long question). He points out that the Talmud (Pes. 116a) includes the following passage:ת”ר חכם בנו שואלו ואם אינו חכם אשתו שואלתו ואם לאו הוא שואל לעצמו ואפילו שני תלמידי חכמים שיודעין בהלכות הפסח שואלין זה לזה מה נשתנה הלילה הזה מכל הלילות שבכל הלילות אנו מטבילין פעם אחת הלילה הזה שתי פעמים:(Although the printed editions have punctuation between שואלין זה לזה and מה נשתנה, this punctuation is only a later addition. See Steiner, p. 26, n. 95, and Kasher, p. 35. But see Goldschmidt, p. 11, and Safrai, p. 112, for a different approach to the above text.) Steiner argues that the Mishnah is most properly understood as intending only one (long) question, i.e., “what special characteristic of this night is causing us to depart from our normal routine in so many ways?” He shows that R. Saadiah Gaon and every early medieval source understood the mah nishtannah as only one long question. It was not until the 13th century that a medieval source first referred to them asשאלות (plural). A study of the the mah nishtannah inevitably raises other issues. Is the mah nishtannah to be recited by the child only if he cannot formulate his own questions? Is it perhaps to be recited by the father? On these issues, see, e.g., Goldschmidt, pp. 10-11, Kasher, pp. רד-רב, Safrai, p. 31, ArtScroll Mishnah Series, comm. to Pes. 10:4, p. 210, and J. Kulp and D. Golinkin, The Schechter Haggadah: Art, History, and Commentary, p. 196. Most likely, the correct understanding of Mishnah 10:4 is that the mah nishtannah is what the child who lacks understanding is taught to ask. See Steiner, pp. 26, and 33-36. (Steiner suggests that we should read the beginning of Mishnah 10:4 elliptically as if it includes the words לשאל after בבן דעת אין, and again after אביו מלמדו.) It was only sometime in the post-Talmudic period that the mah nishtannah began to be treated as a mandated piece of liturgy.[3] A well-known example is the first Mishnah in the fourth chapter of Bava Metzia. On this topic generally, see M. Schacter, “Babylonian-Palestinian Variations in the Mishnah,” JQR 42 (1951-52), pp. 1-35. [4] This is what the earliest and most reliable Mishnah manuscripts record. See Safrai, p. 26 and Tabory, pp. 260, 262, and 361.With regard to the order of these three questions, almost all of the early sources which record the mah nishtannah as dipping, matzah and roast, record them in that precise order. See Tabory, p. 262. Kasher, p. 113, n. 6, refers to eight manuscripts of the Babylonian Talmud to Pesachim which include the Mishnah. All but one include only the above three questions in their text of the Mishnah (in the order dipping, matzah, and roast). (In this note, Kasher did not cite the Munich 95 manuscript of the Talmud, which also includes only these three questions, because it includes them in a different order.) Almost certainly, it was the familiarity of later copyists with the maror question from the texts of their Haggadah that led them to insert it into texts of the Mishnah. See H. Guggenheimer, The Scholar’s Haggadah, p. 250. Now that it has been established that Mishnah 10:4 includes only three questions, many scholars claim that the three explanations of R. Gamliel at Mishnah 10:5 (pesach, matzah, maror) are the answers to the mah nishtannah. But this approach must be rejected. As Steiner explains (pp. 32-33), although the topics of the mah nishtannah match the topics of the three explanations (the dipping question was the maror question of the time), the “explanations” given do not specifically answer the questions posed. Moreover, the mah nishtannah is most properly understood as only one long question, i.e., “what special characteristic of this night is causing us to depart from our normal routine in so many ways?” If so, what we should be looking for in an answer is one fundamental answer and not three piecemeal ones. According to Steiner, כל הפרשה … מתחיל בגנות is the answer expressed in the Mishnah to the mah nishtannah. (The prevalent view among the Rishonim was that avadim hayyinu was the answer to the mah nishtannah. See Steiner, p. 31. But avadim hayyinu is not found in the Mishnah, and was not even included in the Palestinian seder ritual. See Steiner, p. 32 and below, n. 26.)[5] See the edition of the Rambam’s commentary on the Mishnah published by Y. Kafah. Rambam copied a text of the Mishnah (presumably one that he felt was authoritative) and wrote his commentary on that text. For most of the sedarim of the Mishnah (including Pesachim), we have this text of the Mishnah and the Rambam’s commentary, all written in the Rambam’s own hand. This text of the Mishnah with the Rambam’s commentary was published by Kafah. The edition of the Rambam’s commentary on the Mishnah included in a standard Talmud volume does not include a text of the Mishnah.[6] The German version was published in 1936. The earlier Hebrew version was published in 1947.[7] Goldschmidt, pp. 11-12. He also clearly took this position in the 1947 version (pp. 9-10, and p. 29). I have not seen the 1936 version.[8] The other source cited was: “J. Levy, A Guide to Passover (1958).” There is a typographical error here, as the author’s name was Isaac Levy. This was not a work which compared in any way with the level of scholarship reflected in Goldschmidt’s 1960 Haggadah. At p. 27, Levy assumed, without any discussion, that the Mishnah enumerated the matzah, maror, roast, and dipping questions.[9] E.g., Safrai, p. 26, Tabory, pp. 260, 262 and 361, Steiner, p. 32, and Kulp and Golinkin, pp. 198-99.[10] It includes no new bibliographical references either, unlike many of the other entries.[11] The Gaon’s explanation is printed at Kasher, at p. 115. According to this explanation, reclining at the seder would not have been a shinui prior to the churban, since it was the practice to eat while reclining all year round. Only after the Temple was destroyed did reclining at the seder become something unusual. At the same time, the pesach sacrifice ceased. The Gaon’s explanations to the Haggadah were first published in 1805 (a few years after his death) by his student R. Menachem Mendel of Shklov. The Encylopaedia Judaica entry “Mah Nishtannah” also essentially follows the approach of the Gaon. Another widely quoted view is that of the Rambam, who writes that there were originally five questions before the question about roast meat was dropped. The Rambam writes (Hilchot Chametz u-Matzah 8:3): בזמן הזה אינו אומר והלילה הזה כולו צלי שאין לנו קרבן. [12] R. Brody, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, p. 32.[13] For a listing of the Haggadah fragments from the Genizah, see Safrai, pp. 293-301. Most of these have not been published.[14] For some published examples, see: 1) I. Abrahams, “Some Egyptian Fragments of the Passover Haggadah,” J.Q.R. (O.S.) 10 (1898), pp. 41-51, fragments # 2, 7,8 and 10; 2) the Haggadah manuscript first described briefly in an article by J.H. Greenstone in 1911, and later published in full by Goldschmidt; 3) the Haggadah manuscript published by Jay Rovner, “An Early Passover Haggadah According to the Palestinian Rite,” J.Q.R. 90 (2000), pp. 337-396, and 4) MS Cambridge T-S H2.152 (photograph at Kasher, p. 93). There are other such fragments as well. For example, see Safrai, p. 53, n. 21 and p. 114, nn. 9 and 11. (The manuscript published by Rovner is probably, but not certainly, from the Genizah.). In only one of these texts (T-S H2.152) was the text of the question amended to צלי כולו המקדש בבית אוכלים היינו. With one exception (see below), the roast question is found only among sets of mah nishtannah which are based on the three questions included in the Mishnah. These sets either follow the set of three included in the Mishnah, or have a modified version of the set which leaves out the matzah question (perhaps erroneously, see the discussion in the text). (But not all of the fragments which include the roast question include a complete set of questions, so the above conclusions are not absolute.) The exception is T-S H2.152 which includes the roast question along with four other questions. One text from the Genizah (Abrahams, fragment #5) includes the following blessing immediately after ha-motzi: מרורים מצות לאכל אבותינו את צוה אשר העולם מלך … ‘ה ‘א ‘ב הברית זוכר ‘ה ‘א ‘ב גבורותיו את להזכיר אש צלי בשר(The Safrais quote this text at p. 30, but erroneously leave out the words אבותינו את.) Whatever community was using this text was almost certainly eating roast meat at their meal, although Tabory (p. 103) raises the possibility that they may have only been partaking a small, symbolic amount. A similar blessing is found in a different Genizah fragment printed by the Safrais at p. 289. There, however, the blessing is included before the blessing for washing and ha-motzi, so it is less clear that the blessing was meant to precede the actual eating of roast meat. Regarding the concluding blessing הברית זוכר, there are other fragments from the Genizah which include such a blessing in this section of the Haggadah (without reference to אש צלי בשר ). See, e.g, the Greenstone-Goldschmidt manuscript (Goldschmidt, p. 83), and Abrahams, fragment #7. For further discussion of this concluding blessing, see Goldschmidt, p. 60, n. 10.

[15] The passage reads:
זו שאלה גם גורסים הגדות שבמספר י עמ׳ שלמה הגדה עי׳.

[16] Safrai, p. 113. (I am not concerned with variation in the order of these four questions.)[17] In this section, I am only including fragments whose total number of questions in their mah nishtannah set can be determined. Therefore, I am not including fragments such as Abrahams #7 and Abrahams #8, which include mah nishtannah questions but which are cut off mid-set. For example, Abrahams fragment #7 starts with the roast question, but is cut off before it. Abrahams fragment #8 starts in the middle of the matzah question. [18] See, e.g., Abrahams, fragments #2 and #10. See also our discussion below of the Greenstone-Goldschmidt fragment. Safrai writes (p. 65) that ניכר מספר of the Haggadah fragments from the Genizah are of this type. [19] Safrai, pp. 26, 64 and 113. But a few fragments which include the roast question follow the Babylonian rite in other essential respects. See Safrai, p. 30, n. 55, and p. 114, n. 9.[20] Safrai, pp. 113 and 206.[21] We know from many other contexts that Babylonian customs gradually penetrated into Palestine and its surrounding areas and became the majority custom. See, e.g., Brody, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, pp. 111, 115, and 117. (An example is the practice of reciting kedushah in the daily amidah. The letter of Pirkoi ben Baboi, early 9th cent., describes how Babylonian Jews moved to Palestine and forced Palestinian Jews to adopt the Babylonian practice of reciting kedushah daily.) See also I. Ta-Shema, Ha-Tefillah ha-Ashkenazit ha-Kedumah, p. 7. [22] See Kasher, p. 113, n. 11. Kasher calls this manuscript “21ק.” It is MS Cambridge T-S H2.145. It is possible that this is not a legitimate variant and that the maror question was omitted in error by the scribe who copied this fragment. As explained in the text, the reclining question was almost certainly the last question added and there was little reason for a community to have dropped the maror question. We also have evidence of a mah nishtannah set of dipping, matzah, and maror. This does not come from the Genizah, but from additions inscribed at the end of a certain siddur. The siddur was authored by a rabbinic authority from Morocco, who lived in the 11th or 12th century. The additions, inscribed by the owner of the siddur, describe various local rites, and include a mah nishtannah set of dipping, matzah and maror. See Rovner, p. 351, n. 57.[23] T-S H2.152. [24] Safrai, p. 53. This set is so aberrant that it may not reflect an actual rite. Possibly, the set was created by a lone scribe who combined the various questions that he knew of into one set. Since this set records the language of the roast question in a manner found nowhere else, this is evidence that the scribe who copied this fragment may have been a creative one.[25] The Haggadah manuscript published by Rovner clearly records only these two questions. The Greenstone-Goldschmidt manuscript initially recorded only these two questions, but a later scribe inserted the matzah question. See the last line of fragment א/ד and the first line of fragment ב/ד, in the photos at Goldschmidt, p. ii. These photos show that these lines are in a different handwriting. (The Safrais also print a text of the Goldstone-Goldschmidt manuscript. But they print it as if it included all three questions initially. See Safrai, pp. 286-89.) [26] Safrai, p. 50. See also the responsum of R. Natronai Gaon quoted, for example, at Kasher, pp. 27-28, Goldschmidt, p. 73, and Safrai, pp. 56-57. (In this responsum, R. Natronai criticizes an alternative Haggadah ritual for many reasons, one of which was the ritual’s omission of avadim hayyinu. R. Natronai thought it was a sectarian Haggadah ritual. It turns out that he was criticizing the Palestinian Haggadah ritual. See Goldschmidt, p. 74, Safrai, pp. 56-59, and Brody, p. 96.)[27] It is cited in Kasher, p. 113, n. 11 with the symbol ש. The responsum is not devoted solely to the seder. The first few lines of the responsum, whose beginning is cut off, deal with the hoshanot of Sukkot.[28] M. Lehman, Seder ve-Haggadah Shel Pesach le-Rav Natronai Gaon Al Pi Ketav-Yad Kadmon, in Sefer Yovel li-Chevod Morenu ha-Gaon Rabi Yosef Dov ha-Levi Soloveitchik Shelita, ed. S. Israeli, vol. 2, pp. 976-993, at p. 986. The title of Lehman’s article is unfortunate. The text of the article does not even claim that the Geonic Haggadah text published there served as the Haggadah of R. Natronai Gaon. Lehman composed the article initially based on a manuscript which spanned three sections, one of which was a Haggadah text. The first section of the manuscript included a caption stating that the material in that section (a long paytanic version of kiddush for Passover, and a long paytanic version of the blessing before drinking the second cup) was enacted and arranged by R. Natronai. The Haggadah section had its own caption which stated that what followed was the text of the Haggadah accepted by the Talmud and the Geonim (with no mention of R. Natronai). Three Passover-related responsa followed, without any caption. Later, Lehman acquired another page from the same manuscript. He writes that the body of his article was already in final form by this time, but he was able to add his discussion of the new page at the end of the article. The new page included three anonymous responsa, one of which is recorded elsewhere in the name of R. Hai Gaon. This made Lehman realize (p. 991) that his pages were part of a collection of material from various Geonim, and not material that may all have had some connection to R. Natronai. Probably, the article was given its title (by Lehman or perhaps by someone else) before Lehman acquired the additional page. But even before Lehman acquired the additional page, the title was unjustified, as the Haggadah section had its own caption which did not connect it to R. Natronai. (Despite its caption, even the material in the first section of the manuscript may not have been composed by R. Natronai.) It is unfortunate that the Safrais refer to Lehman’s text throughout their work as the “Haggadah of R. Natronai Gaon.” It is evident fom their discussion of this text (p. 261) that all they were really willing to accept is that the text reflected a Haggadah from the time of the Geonim in general.[29] See Safrai, pp. 261 and 266.[30] See Kasher, p. 42, J. Rovner, “An Early Passover Haggadah: Corrigenda,” JQR 91 (2001), p. 429 (correcting p. 351, n. 59 in his original article), and J. Kulp and D. Golinkin, The Schechter Haggadah: Art, History, and Commentary, p. 199. Note that the Rif quotes a text of M. Pesachim 10:4 which includes only the questions of dipping, matzah and roast, and then remarks פסחא לן דלית צלי בשר לימא לא והשתא. It can be argued based on this that, in his community, the mah nishtannah at the seder may have only included dipping and matzah.[31] Perhaps close examination of the responsum will reveal other unique aspects. The responsum follows an alternative nusach for kiddush, but this nusach is widely attested to. See, e.g., Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon, pp. 141-142, Kasher, pp. 183-85 and ג-ב, Safrai, p. 61, and Lehman, pp. 977-980 and 982-83. The responsum records the Sages in Bnei Brak as having been מסיחין about yitziat mitzrayim all night. But there is other evidence for this reading or its equivalent: משיחין. See Safrai, p. 208.[32] But this language is recorded in the haggadot of Djerba (which also include the standard language that we are now slaves and will be free next year). See Kasher, p. 201, and Safrai, p. 111, n. 6. (Djerba is an island off the coast of Tunisia. The Jewish community there has ancient roots. ) R. Shlomo Goren saw fit to to include the above Geonic language (along with the standard language) in the haggadah he composed for the use of the Israeli army. See, e.g., Kasher, p. 201, citing the 1956 edition of the Haggadah Shel Pesach published by הראשית הצבאית הרבנות. Many editions of this haggadah were published and I saw this language in later editions as well. Kasher discusses the Geonic language at pp. 198-201 and attempts to provide a rationale for it.[33] Tabory, p. 260.[34] The maror question made its way into some, but not the earliest, texts of the Mishnah. See Tabory, p. 261.[35] Tabori, p. 261, n. 36.[36] In Amoraic Babylonia, there was no practice of dipping throughout the year. This led the Babylonian Amoraim to rephrase the question. Based on the statements by the Babylonian Amoraim expressed at Pes. 116a, the text of the dipping question was changed in many Mishnah manuscripts. Various forms of the question developed. See Safrai, p. 27, and Goldschmidt, p. 77.[37] Tabory, pp. 261-262. Almost certainly, the original formulation of this question described the herb as מרורים. See Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon, p. 137, Goldschmidt, p. 12, Kasher, pp. 113-14 and pp. יא-י (variant readings), and Tabory, p. 261. See also Rambam, Hilchot Chametz u-Matzah 8:2. (In the nusach ha-haggadah included in the standard printed Mishnah Torah, the reading is מרור. But the Frankel edition points out that some versions read מרורים here.) מרורים is the phrase used in the Bible (Ex. 12:8 and Num. 9:11). Moreover, the singular מרור refers to only one of the five herbs with which one can fulfill one’s obligation. See M. Pes. 2:6.[38] In suggesting that both the maror and reclining questions arose in Babylonia, I am following the approach of the Safrais. The Safrais believe that even though the majority of the mah nishtannah Haggadah fragments from the Genizah include dipping, matzah, maror and reclining, these fragments do not reflect the original Palestinian custom. These fragments only show that the Babylonian custom became the majority custom in Palestine and its surrounding areas. [39] Guggenheimer, p. 250. [40] P. 113 (ed. Goldschmidt).[41] P. 137.[42] But N. Cohen has noted several contradictions between the instructions provided by R. Saadiah and the liturgical texts, and between parallel prayer texts in different sections. According to Cohen, some of the liturgical texts included in the Siddur may have been supplied by later copyists, or at least changed by them. See Cohen, le-Ofiyyo ha-Mekori shel Siddur Rav Saadiah Gaon, Sinai 95 (1983/84), pp. 249-67. Cohen does not address the mah nishtannah in her study.[43] A gedi (=young goat) was one of the animals permitted for the pesach sacrifice. Ex. 12:5 states that the pesach sacrifice must come מן הכבשים ומן העזים (=from a lamb or a goat). [44] One such reason is that plain references to Rabban Gamliel (i.e., without the description “ha-Zaken”) are almost always references to Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh. See Safrai, p. 28, n. 50, E. Schurer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, ed. Vermes, Millar and Black, vol. 2, p. 368, n. 48, and Tos. Niddah 6b, s.v. בשפחתו. A story referring to a practice of preparing a gedi mekulas among Roman Jewry, and the objection of the Sages of Palestine, is found in many sources. See, e.g., Pes. 53a: תודוס איש רומי הנהיג את בני רומי לאכול גדיים מקולסין בלילי פסחים שלחו לו אלמלא תודוס אתה גזרנו עליך נדוי שאתה מאכיל את ישראל קדשים בחוץ … See also Ber. 19a, Bezah 23a, and in the Jerusalem Talmud: Pes. 7:1, Bezah 2:7, and Mo’ed Katan 3:1. Most scholars believe that Todos lived after the churban. See Tabory, p. 98. But there are some scholars who believe that Todos lived during Temple times. See Safrai, p. 28, n. 52. Even if it can shown that there was a practice outside of Palestine of preparing a gedi mekulas during Temple times, this does not mean that there was such a practice in Palestine, where going to Jerusalem and participating in an actual pesach sacrifice was largely possible. (The version of the above story in the standard printed edition of the Talmud at Ber. 19a states that the message to Todos was sent by Simeon b. Shetach. But this is an erroneous reading. See Tabory, p. 98.) Aside from being recorded in both Talmuds, the above story is also recorded in the Tosefta (Bezah 2:11). But the Tosefta has a slightly different reading:תודוס איש רומי הנהיג את בני רומי ליקח טלאים בלילי פסחים ועושין אותן מקולסין… טלא is the Aramaic term for שה, a broader term than גדי . Regarding the significance of this reading, see S. Lieberman, Tosefta ki-Feshutah, 5, p. 959.[45] See the following note.[46] Tosef. Betzah 2:11:איזהו גדי מקולס? כולו צלי, ראשו וכרעיו וקרבו. בישל ממנו כל שהוא שלק ממנו כל שהוא אין זה גדי מקולס … Pes. 74a: איזהו גדי מקולס דאסור לאכול בלילי פסח בזמן הזה כל שצלאו כולו כאחד .נחתך ממנו אבר נשלק ממנו אבר אין זה גדי מקולס (Perhaps it was only the preparation of a gedi mekulas that was forbidden by the Sages, or perhaps the preparation of any kind of מקולס שה was forbidden as well. See the version of the story involving Todos recorded in Tosef. Betzah 2:11 and Lieberman, Tosefta ki-Feshutah, 5, p. 959.) There was a dispute as to the proper manner of positioning the legs and entrails of the pesach sacrifice while it was being roasted. See M. Pesachim 7:1. The view of R. Akiva was that they are hung outside it. This perhaps sheds light on the meaning of the difficult term mekulas. Mekulas in Aramaic can be interpreted as wearing a helmet (see the similar word at Targum Pseudo-Jonathan to I Sam. 17:5). According to Rashi, comm. to Pes. 74a, when R. Akiva expressed the view that the legs and entrails were roasted outside the animal, he meant that they were placed above its head. This made the goat look like it was wearing a helmet. Mekulas would therefore be another way of describing the method of positioning according to R. Akiva. (Rashi elsewhere give a slightly different interpretation of how the term mekulas accords with the view of R. Akiva. See Rashi, comm. to Pes. 53a and Betzah 22b.) An alternative approach is to understand mekulas as meaning “beautiful” or “praised.” See, e.g., Rambam, comm. to Mishnah, Betzah, 2nd chap. The root קלס often has the meaning “to beautify” or “to praise” in rabbinic literature, derived from the Greek word καλος (beautiful). See also J. Gereboff, Rabbi Tarfon: The Tradition, the Man, and Early Rabbinic Judaism, p. 70, where two other Greek derivations for mekulas are suggested: καλως, an animal led on a string, and κολος, a hornless animal. Gereboff also cites S. Krauss for the view that χαυλος in Greek means “helmeted.” See also Tabory, p. 97, n. 248.[47] No reason is given in the Mishnah for the Sages’ prohibition. But in the response to Todos, a reason is given. If the practice of preparing a gedi mekulas is permitted, people will think that kodshim can be eaten outside of the azarah, because the practice was to refer to the gedi mekulas as if it were a pesach offering. Probably, Palestinian Jewry as well as Roman Jewry referred to the gedi mekulas as if it were a pesach offering. See below, n. 54.[48] There would be evidence of this if the custom referred to at M. Pesachim 4:4 is the custom to prepare and eat a gedi mekulas. [49] The Safrais (p. 28), for example, take this approach, as does Friedman (p. 92).[50] Some scholars argue that the custom being referred to in this Mishnah is simply the custom to prepare and eat a gedi mekulas. See, e.g., Safrai, pp. 27-28. But this is not the plain sense of the Mishnah.[51] Scholars who take this approach include G. Allon, The Jews in their Land in the Talmudic Age, pp. 264-65, and Goldschmidt, p. 12. In this approach, the roast question arose in connection with what was perhaps the practice of a large section of Jewry. By contrast, the custom to prepare a gedi mekulas may not have been a widespread custom. [52] A response to this would be that the roast question was phrased the way it was so it could be parallel to the matzah question, even though the phrasing did not exactly fit the concept of an optional commemorative practice.[53] There are those who suggest that the pesach sacrifice (and other sacrifices as well) continued after the churban (perhaps outside the makom ha-mikdash and without the permission of the Sages). See, e.g., J. Brand, “Korban Pesach le-Achar Churban Bayit Sheni,” Ha-Hed 12/6 (1937) and 13/7 (1938), and the references at D. Bleich, Contemporary Halakhic Problems, vol. 1, pp. 247-48. See also Tabory, Moadey Yisrael be-Tekufat ha-Mishnah ve-ha-Talmud, p. 99, n. 65.[54] For example, M. Pesachim 7:2 records a story in which Rabban Gamliel told his slave Tavi to go out and roast “the pesach” on the roasting tray. (The Rabban Gamliel who had a slave named Tavi was Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh. See Safrai, p. 28.) But this story can easily be interpreted as involving only the preparation of a gedi mekulas, post-churban, with the term “pesach” being used only loosely. For similar probable loose usages of the term “pesach,” see Tosef. Ohalot 3:9 and 18:18, and J. Talmud Meg. 1:11. See also Tabory, p. 100-101. The argument that the pesach sacrifice continued after the churban has also been made based on a passage in Josephus’ Antiquities. Josephus writes (II, 313): “to this day we keep this sacrifice in the same customary manner, calling the feast Pascha…” Josephus tells us (XX, 267) that he completed this work in the 13th year of the reign of Domitian (= 93-94 C.E). (The precise year that book II was written is unknown.) But Josephus was writing in Rome, not Palestine, and almost certainly all he meant is that the pesach sacrifice has been kept throughout the centuries through approximately his time. See also B. Bokser, The Origins of the Seder, p. 106. The historian Procopius, describing events in Palestine in the 6th century, wrote: [W]henever in their calendar Passover came before the Christian Easter, [Justinian] forbade the Jews to celebrate it on their proper day, to make then any sacrifices to God or perform any of their customs. Many of them were heavily fined by the magistrates for eating lamb at such times… In the late 4th or early 5th century, the church father Jerome wrote: Take any Jew you please who has been converted to Christianity, and you will see that he practices the rite of circumcision on his newborn son, keeps the Sabbath, abstains from forbidden food, and brings a lamb as an offering on the 14th of Nissan. See Secret History of Procopius, ed. R. Atwater, pp. 260-261 and S. Krauss, “The Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” JQR (OS) 6 (1893/1894), p. 237. But almost certainly, these passages are only referring to the practice of slaughtering a gedi mekulas. See Safrai, p. 30, n. 55. (Obviously, the references to “sacrifices” and “offering” in the above passages are only translations.)

There is evidence that the practice of preparing a gedi mekulas on the seder night continued in Palestine through at least the 7th century. This is seen from the Palestinian work Sefer ha-Maasim which dates from this time and includes the following passage:
… קרבו על כרעיו ראשו על שלם ניצלה זה מקולס גדי .

See T. Rabinovitz, “Sefer ha-Maasim le-Vnei Eretz Yisrael:Seridim Hadashim,” Tarbitz 41 (1972), p. 284. Sefer ha-Maasim is a work whose purpose seems to have been to record decisions of halachah applicable in its time. Safrai p. 30, and Rabinovitz, p. 280.[55] Actually, the matter of the order of the chapters in Mishnah Pesachim is not so simple. Some manuscripts of the Talmud and commentaries by Rishonim follow an arrangement in which the tenth chapter follows the first four chapters. All these chapters together are called Masechet Pesach Rishon and the other chapters are called Masechet Pesach Sheni. R. Menachem Meiri writes that this alternative arrangement dates from the time of the Geonim or later. See Safrai, p. 19, n. 1. But some scholars, such as Shamma Friedman, believe that this alternative arrangement has a more ancient origin. See Friedman, p. 12, n. 5. If this alternative arrangement was the original arrangement, it is a mistake to view the tenth chapter as if it were the last of ten chapters.[56] Also, the names of the Sages included in the tenth chapter are: R. Tarfon, R. Akiva, R. Yose, R. Yishmael, Rabban Gamliel, and R. Eliezer b. R. Tzadok. (References to “Rabban Gamliel” in the Mishnah, without the description “ha-Zaken,” are almost always references to Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh. As to R. Eliezer b. R. Tzadok, he was active both before and after the churban.) M. Pesachim 10:6 records that R. Akiva included a prayer for the rebuilding of Jerusalem at his seder. The introductory statement ערבי פסחים סמוך למנחה לא יאכל אדם עד שתחשך and the detailed instructions governing the drinking of wine also give the impression of a chapter composed after the churban, detailing how an individual was obligated to conduct himself in his home. See Friedman, p. 409. Two arguments between Bet Hillel and Bet Shammai are also included in this chapter. In general, these reflect arguments from Temple times. But the author or editor of chapter 10 could simply have inserted this earlier material into a chapter composed after the churban. See Safrai, p. 19. Many printed editions of Mishnah 10:3 read: ובמקדש היו מביאין לפניו גופו של פסח. But היו is a later addition. (See Safrai, p. 25 and Friedman, pp. 89 and 430.) Some have argued that the absence of היו provides a basis for dating this section of the Mishnah, and by implication, the rest of the chapter, to Temple times. In this interpretation, the Mishnah first states the practice in the גבולין in its time (…הביאו לפניו), and then continues with the practice in theמקדש in its time (…ובמקדש מביאין). But as Safrai (p. 25) and Friedman (pp. 89, 430-32 and 438) point out, such an interpretation is very unlikely, and the addition of היו does not change the meaning of the phrase but correctly clarifies the original meaning. The debate about whether the tenth chapter was composed before or after the churban is summarized nicely by Friedman (see, e.g., pp. 88-92, 430-432, and 437-38). Friedman strongly advocates the position that the chapter was composed after the churban.[57] With regard to why these particular chapters were chosen, see above, n. 55.[58] The precise relationship between the Mishnah and the Tosefta has always been an issue. See, e.g., the entry “Tosefta” in the original Encyclopaedia Judaica and the revised entry in the new edition.[59] Steiner, pp. 26, and 33-36. Steiner suggests that we should read this statement elliptically as if it includes the words לשאל after בבן דעת אין, and again after מלמדו אביו.[60] See EJ 10:354 and S. Friedman, le-Ofiyyan shel ha-Beraitot be-Talmud ha-Bavli: Ben Tema u-Ben Dortai, in Netiot le-David: Sefer ha-Yovel le-David Halivni, pp. 248-255.[61] But see Tos., s.v. כולו.[62] Many authorities seem to disregard the statement of R. Hisda. For example, the Rif writes that the chagigah is to be commemorated at the seder by an item that is mevushal. Yet he implies in a different passage that the roast question was a normative question during Temple times. Similarly, the Rambam does not follow the position of Ben Tema (see Hilchot Karban Pesach 10:13), but at the same time, he includes the roast question in his list of mah nishtannah from Temple times. See Hilchot Chametz u-Matzah 8:2 (and Lechem Mishneh there). Note that R. Joseph Caro, OH 473, takes the position that the egg that commemorates the chagigah should be מבושלת. Compare Tos. Pes. 114b, s.v. שני (the halachah follows Ben Tema), and R. Moses Isserles, OH 473 (the egg that commemorates the chagigah must be roasted). Friedman, in his Tosefta Atikta: Masechet Pesach Rishon (2002), pp. 91-92, accepts the essence of the interpretation of R. Hisda, but believes that the roast question must have been composed in accordance with a majority view. This leads him to conclude that the roast question must have been composed after the churban. (In Temple times, a chagigah offering was brought, and according to the majority view, it was not roasted. Since the roast question includes the phrase הלילה הזה כולו צלי, it could not have been composed in accordance with the majority view in Temple times.) In a later article, le-Ofiyyan shel ha-Beraitot be-Talmud ha-Bavli: Ben Tema u-Ben Dortai, pp. 195-274, in Netiot le-David: Sefer ha-Yovel le-David Halivni (2004), Friedman discusses the Ben Tema passage extensively, and takes a different approach.