The Haftarah of Parashat Shemot[1]

By Eli Duker

The Babylonian haftarah for Parashat Shemot was from Ezekiel 16: “Hoda’ et yerushalayim.”

The haftarah appears in at least six fragments from the Cairo Geniza,[2] is the haftarah used in the “Emet” piyyut of R’ Shemuel Hashelishi[3] and in the “Zulat” piyyut of R’ Yehuda Beirabbi Binyamin,[4] and is listed in the Seder Hatefillot in Rambam’s Yad Hahazakah as well as in the Siddur of R Shlomo Beirabbi Natan.[5]

This haftarah, an extremely graphic and difficult prophecy, was chosen because it begins by describing the Egypian enslavement and the Exodus. In all of the fragments that describe where the haftarah ends, the last verse is verse 16:15, likely so as not to continue with the difficult words of rebuke that follow that do not have anything to do with the parasha. The Baylonian custom allowed for haftarot that were less than twenty one verses even if the subject is left uncompleted because they still had the practice to read Jonathan’s Targum along with the haftarah, and thus were exempted from the twenty-one verse minimal requirement, as per the ruling of R’ Tahlifa bar Shemuel (Megilla 23b).[6]

This choice of haftarah seems to be problematic in light of the Mishna (Megilla 4:10):

מעשה ראובן נקרא ולא מתרגם מעשה תמר נקרא ומתרגם מעשה עגל הראשון נקרא ומתרגם והשני נקרא ולא מתרגם ברכת כהנים מעשה דוד ואמנון נקראין ולא מתרגמין אין מפטירין במרכבה ורבי יהודה מתיר ר’ אליעזר אומר אין מפטירין (יחזקאל טז, ב) בהודע את ירושלם.

The Mishna brings, without dissent, the opinion of Rabbi Eliezer, which forbids this haftarah. However, the Tosefta as it appears in MS Vienna National Library Heb. 20 seems to allow this haftarah, while Rabbi Eliezer’s view is brought as a dissent:[7]

הודע את ירושלם נקרא ומתרגם ומעשה באחד שהיה קורא לפני ר’ ליעזר הודע את ירושלם אמ’ לו צא והודע תועבותיה של אמך.

However, according to that same Tosefta as it appears in MS Berlin Staatsbiliothek Or. Fol. 1220, the Tanna Kamma merely permits haftarot with general rebuke directed at Jerusalem (תוכחת ירושלים), while Rabbi Eliezer objected to the particular choice of Ezekiel 16:

תוכחת ירושלים נקרא ומתרגם ומעשה באחד שהיה קורא לפני ר’ ליעזר הודע את ירושלים ואמ’ לו צא והודע תועבותיה של אמך.[8]

Like the Mishna above, the Talmud Yerushalmi brings Rabbi Eliezer’s prohibitive opinion regarding this haftarah, and presents no other view:

ר’ אליעזר אומר אין מפטירין בהודע את ירושלם את תועבותיה מעשה באחד שהפטיר בהודע את ירושלם את תועבותיה אמר לו ר”א ילך אותו האיש וידע בתועבותיה של אמו ובדקו אחריו ונמצאו ממזר.[9]

The following appears in both printed versions of the Talmud Bavli [10] as well as in three manuscripts of the Bavli:

הודע את ירושלם את תועבותיה נקרא ומתרגם פשיטא לאפוקי מדרבי אליעזר דתניא מעשה באדם אחד שהיה קורא למעלה מרבי אליעזר הודע את ירושלם את תועבותיה אמר לו עד שאתה בודק בתועבות ירושלים צא ובדוק בתועבות אמך בדקו אחריו ומצאו בו שמץ פסול .

This is very difficult to understand. How can the Gemara assume (פשיטא) that this haftarah can be read if the Mishnah already brought Rabbi Eliezer’s unchallenged opinion forbidding it?

Accordingly, two other manuscripts do not have the word פשיטא.

For example, MS. Columbia 294-295 has the following:

הודע את ירושלם את (..)[ת]ועבותיה נקרא ומיתרגם ומעשה באחד שקרא לפני ר’ אליעזר הודע את ירוש’ את תועב’ אמ’ לו צא והודע תועיבות שלאימך עד שאתה בודק בתועבות ירושלם צא ובדוק בתועבות אמו בדקו אחריו ומצאו בו שמץ פיסול.

Here, the story with Rabbi Eliezer is brought within the context of the view of the Tanna Kamma that it is permissible to read this haftarah. Rabbi Eliezer clearly does not reject this view outright, but still deemed this haftarah a poor choice and an inappropriate one at least under the circumstances.[11]

All of the other manuscripts besides this one feature an explicit disagreement between the Tanna Kamma, who permits this haftarah, and Rabbi Eliezer, who forbids it. The Gemara rejects Rabbi Eliezer’s opinion.

Communities that followed the triennial cycle of the Torah reading never read the beginning of Ezekiel 16 as a haftarah. However for the sidra of V’atta Tetzaveh, they did begin the haftarah from Ezekiel 16:10.[12] It could very well be that this haftarah was deemed permissible despite the Yerushalmi’s ban on the preceding prophecy due to the fact that they held a view later cited by the Levush[13] that the problem with Ezekiel 16 is not the severity of the rebuke but but merely verse 16:3, “Your father was an Amorite and your mother a Hittitess,” which was referenced in Rabbi Eliezer’s retort, seemingly because it casts aspersions of the kind with which no one would be comfortable.

In Europe there were two alternative haftarot for Parashat Shemot: Jeremiah 1:1 and Isaiah 27:6. It seems that many communities either did not want to read Ezekiel 16 even though it was allowed by Halacha because of the weight of Rabbi Eliezer’s rejection, or because they had versions of the Talmudic sources which unanimously presented the haftarah as permissible but undesirable.

In the Iberian peninsula, there were communities that retained the haftarah of Ezekiel 16. It is brought as the haftarah for Parashat Shemot by the Sefer Hashulhan, which was authored by Rabbeinu Hiya ben Shlomo ibn Habib, a student of the Rashba. However, R’ Shemuel Hanagid’s list of haftarot in Sefer HaEshkol lists Jeremiah 1 as the haftarah of Parashat Shemot. The same can be found in Sephardic haftarah books in manuscript[14] and in Sephardic lists of haftarot found in the Cairo Geniza.[15] The reason for this choice of haftarah is the parallel between Jeremiah’s first prophecy and that of Moses. Abudarham lists both of these practices, although it is unclear whether he meant that they were both read in Sepharad or whether he had other locales in mind.

In an early printed humash that is assumed to be Spanish and from around the year 1480, the haftarah for Parashat Shemot is Jeremiah 1:1, while the Hijar Humash from 1487-90 (the only dated humash with haftarot printed before the Expulsion) has Ezekiel 16 as the haftarah.[16] It would be at least over two hundred years later before any other humash was again printed with this as the haftarah.

The Italians adopted Jeremiah 1 as the haftarah for Parashat Shemot as well[17] which is quite surprising, as they preserved more Babylonian haftarot than any other community.[18]

In Ashkenaz, France-England, and Provence the practice was to read Isaiah 27:6 as the haftarah for Parashat Shemot. The same was used as the haftarah for the sidra of V’Eila Shemot in the triennial cycle of Eretz Yisrael.[19] This haftarah was chosen due to its literary rather than thematic associations with the Torah reading, as was generally the case with the rest of the haftarot read according to the triennial cycle. (The haftarot favored in the annual cycle were chosen for their thematic content.)

The first verse of the haftarah,הבאים ישרש יעקב יציץ ופרח ישראל parallels the first verse in the sidra: ואלה שמות בני ישראל הבאים מצרימה את יעקב איש וביתו באו. Three of the haftarah’s first six words are in the first verse of the sidra.[20] We also find that the Romaniote community, which often adopted haftarot from the triennial cycle, adopted Isaiah 27:6 as the haftarah for Parashat Shemot.[21]

This haftarah is also attested to in the Ginzburg manuscript of Mahzor Vitry, in Sefer Etz Haim, in the Sefer HaEshkol’s glosses on the Nagid’s list (where it begins at 27:5, one verse earlier), and in all Ashkenazic humashim and sifrei haftarot in manuscript (although three of them also begin the haftarah one verse earlier).[22]

This haftarah was read in some Morrocan communities.[23]

There were different practices regarding the end of this haftarah. In some manuscripts the final verse is 28:13 making it a “classic” haftarah of exactly twenty one verses, especially appropriate as it was never read with its translation by any community using the annual cycle. Some, in order to end on a clearly positive note, would skip from 28:13 to 29:22 and read two more verses. This is how it appears in all printed humashim with Ashkenazic haftarot. In other manuscripts, we find an alternate practice of extending the reading to verse 28:16, instead of skipping to a later point.

The ensuing printed humashim with Sephardic haftarot post-Expulsion all listed Jeremiah 1 as the Sephardic haftarah for Parashat Shemot

In spite of its absence from the printed humashim, Ezekiel 16 was still retained by many communities as the haftarah for Parashat Shemot. This created a bit of difficulty for those communities. In the recently published Kaf Naki, R. Khalifa Malka, who was active in Agadir, Morocco, between c. 1720-1760,[24] wrote:[25]

The early Magreb practice, as well as our practice, is to read for Parashat Shemot the haftarah of “Hoda’,” based on the Rambam at the end of Sefer Ahava. It is proper to act this way, as he is the rabbi of the Sephardim and the Magrebim. Also concerning this haftarah,[26] I requested of the printer, R’ Shlomo Proofs, to print it together with the haftarah of Hoda’…and he did this to please me in the humashim that he published later on, which had not been done in the days of the publishers who preceded me.[27]

I have not been able to locate any such humashim.[29] The first printed post-expulsion humash I was able to find with this haftarah was printed in Jerusalem by Zuckerman in 1866.

Besides Agadir, this haftarah was (dare I say, miraculously,) retained in many places in various Medditerian and Middle Eastern communities including Algiers,[29] Tafilalt,[30] Fez,[31] Libya,[32] Djerba,[33] Persia/Bukhara,[34] Yemen, and Baghdad.[35] In order to deal with the fact that it did not appear in printed humashim, the practice in Baghdad was to print this haftarah along with the haftarah from Isaiah they would read for Parashat Bo (that was not commonly featured in many printed humashim[36]) in special “Nokh” booklets which had lists of verses and selections from the Mishna that would be recited at home on Shabbatot.[37]

Nokh booklet with the haftarot for Shemot and Bo according to the Bavli custom. (Baghdad, 1930)

 R. Moshe Zuriel, the Aderet, Sonya Diskin, and ChatGPT

Marc B. Shapiro

1. It is hard to believe that more than a year and a half has passed since R. Moshe Zuriel was taken from us. At the time of his passing, I intended to write a lengthy appreciation of him, but I was never able to get around to it. Still, I feel compelled to say something about R. Zuriel, if only to express my hakarat ha-tov for all that I learned from him. Although we never met, we exchanged numerous emails. It reached the point where, whenever I had a question about a passage in R. Kook, I would turn to him. I was also happy to arrange for three of his posts to appear on the Seforim Blog—see here.

Although R. Zuriel was my senior both in age and certainly in wisdom, he honored me by treating me like an old friend. Here is just one sample from an email he sent to me.

Your reference to Rabbi Hirsch’s praises for Schiller’s writings is a Godsend for me. I am elated at his words.

I myself was born in Frankfort am-Main, and consider myself an avid follower of his teachings, which strike a chord in my heart. The expressions in this Memorial Speech are something fabulous. Thank you again for bringing this to my attention. Rav Kook too speaks many a time about Universal Values, which are evident here and there in the Gentile Communities. We must have a link to our fellow humans.

Before we started communicating by email, we sent old fashioned letters. Here is one letter from December 2003. R. Zuriel followed Rav Kook’s approach—discussed by me in The Old Will be Renewed, the New Will be Sanctified—that the Sanhedrin will be able to actualize new moral and religious insights that have become apparent. These moral and religious insights should be viewed as Torah truths that were revealed gradually over time, meaning that we have advanced from the morality at the time of the giving of the Torah. The Sanhedrin will have the final say as to when we are dealing with authentic Torah values vs. non-Jewish values that people are trying to insert into Jewish life.

Here are two other letters from R. Zuriel where you can see his strong religious spirit.

Here is the final part of another letter he wrote me.

I first heard of R. Zuriel when I was a student at Beit Midrash le-Torah (BMT) in 1984–1985. I happened to find his sefer, Beit Yehezkel: Hilkhot Deot, on the shelf. I knew nothing about the author but found the book interesting and began to go through it. I never told R. Zuriel that this was the first sefer I ever went through. In school, we studied Chumash and Gemara, but I had never before picked up an independent sefer and tried to work through it on my own.

One day, while I was learning the sefer, someone noticed and mentioned that there was something controversial in it—namely, that R. Zuriel praises kippot serugot. Even then, I was interested in controversial texts, and I carefully combed through the book, unsuccessfully trying to find the page where he offered this praise. I later heard this story on other occasions as well, so I assumed that the volume I had been using had been censored and that the provocative passage had been removed. That was undoubtedly my first experience with what I thought was a censored text. Maybe that moment planted the seeds that would only come to fruition decades later in Changing the Immutable.

It was only many years later that I learned R. Zuriel had published two books under the title Beit Yehezkel, and lo and behold, I eventually found the passage about kippot serugot on p. 194 of the first edition.

Incidentally, I think many will be surprised to learn that R. Zvi Yehudah Kook—whose yeshiva and followers became such an important force in the kippah serugah world—actually preferred a black kippah over a kippah serugah, not just for himself but for everyone. It is true that he did not make a big deal about it, but we need to be honest about his opinion. Even when presented with two students, one wearing a small black kippah and the other a large kippah serugah, he expressed his preference for the black kippah.[1]

In fact, R. Zvi Yehudah would have even preferred that students at Merkaz ha-Rav wear a hat and jacket, though he never made an issue of it. He did, however, tell at least some of his students who became rabbis that they should wear rabbinic garb—which today generally means a black suit and hat. He wasn’t entirely consistent in this regard, and I suppose that explains the varied styles of dress among his rabbinic students: some look no different than haredi rabbis, others wear a kippah serugah along with a hat, and still others wear a kippah serugah without a hat.[2]

For those who want to learn more about R. Zuriel, his website can be found here. It is truly remarkable to see the vast array of books he published, covering so many different areas of Torah.[3] You will also find there the three volumes of writings by Naftali Hirz Wessely, including material from manuscript, which R. Zuriel published. Interestingly, his name does not appear in these volumes as the one who prepared them for publication. Instead, he used pseudonyms—likely to avoid becoming embroiled in controversy. Yet it is worth noting that, in the years before his death, he began writing about Wessely under his own name and openly defended his decision to publish Wessely’s works. See here.

Missing from his website is his first edition of Wessely’s Sefer ha-Midot, which was published in 2002. The site only includes the later edition, which incorporates previously unpublished material. Yet the first edition is extremely valuable and deserves to be uploaded as well. This is because it contains a lengthy introduction that establishes the religious acceptability of Wessely, citing numerous great rabbis who referenced him positively. (For examples of censorship involving Wessely in the reprinted works of R. Moses Schick and R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, see my post here.) This introduction is significantly different from the one that appears in the second edition. While most of it is also found in the introduction to R. Zuriel’s edition of Wessely’s Yein Levanon (written under the pseudonym Yaakov Segal), for some reason, the version of Yein ha-Levanon on the website omits this entire introduction. Also missing is R. Hayyim Druckman’s haskamah and a letter from Wessely that originally appeared in the first publication of Yein Levanon (Berlin, 1775).

What is particularly noteworthy is that the first edition of Sefer ha-Midot includes a haskamah from R. Zuriel himself, in which he seeks to establish the legitimacy of Wessely. I don’t know—and unfortunately never asked R. Zuriel—why, if he was willing to write a haskamah for Wessely’s book, he wasn’t also willing to identify himself as the editor. The haskamah is formally addressed to “Rabbi Hayyim Lifshitz,” the supposed editor of the book—but Lifshitz is a fictional figure, and the lengthy introduction attributed to him was, in fact, written by R. Zuriel.

When it comes to an author providing a haskamah to his own work published anonymously or under a pseudonym, we do have precedent. R. EliyahuDavid Rabinowitz-Teomim (the Aderet) did this with the only two, of his over 120 works, that were published in his lifetime. In 1889 he published Zekher la-Mikdash (on Hakhel). Here is the title page from the first printing (later printings include the Aderet’s name). In his autobiography, the Aderet mentions writing the book.[4]

On the title page, instead of an author’s name, it states: חובר מאת פלא“י. This is clearly intended to evoke Judges 13:18, where the angel says to Manoah, “Wherefore askest thou after my name, seeing it is hidden (פלאי)?” What’s puzzling is that the title page spells it as פלא“י—with an apostrophe between the last two letters—rather than the more straightforward פלאי. It has been suggested that the final three letters allude to the author’s name, “Elijah” (אלי), and that the פ stands for Pinhas, since Pinhas is traditionally identified with Elijah.[5] But to me, this interpretation feels far-fetched.

Here is the haskamah which is followed by the Aderet’s many notes to the book, as if he is commenting on someone else’s sefer.

In 1893 the Aderet anonymously published Aharit ha-Shanim (on the law of Vidui Ma’aser). Here is the title page of the first printing (subsequent printings include the Aderet’s name).

This book is also mentioned in the Aderet’s autobiography.[6] Unlike in Zekher la-Mikdash, in Aharit ha-Shanim there is a hint in the Aderet’s introduction to his authorship (emphasis added):

ע“כ העלמתי שמי והליטותי פני באדרתי לבל ישאו פני

Furthermore, anyone who looks up the biblical verse which is the origin of the expression והליטותי פני באדרתי will find that it is in 1 Kings 19:13 and describes Elijah wrapping his face in his mantle. The Aderet’s first name is Elijah, so this is obviously also an allusion to the author’s identity.

Here is the Aderet’s haskamah to this book. As with Zekher la-Mikdash, the haskamah is followed by many pages of notes to the book, under the heading Devar Eliyahu.

I assume the Aderet must have felt somewhat awkward referring to himself as ha-ma’or ha-gadol (המאוה“ג), yet everyone understands that such honorifics are expected in haskamot. In fact, had he not used this kind of language, he might well have been accused of failing to show proper respect for the author—since people did not know that he himself was the author.

In 2005, Aharit ha-Shanim was reprinted by Ahavat Shalom, and they were fortunate to have access to the Aderet’s own copy, which contains many additional marginal notes. These were included in the new edition.

I found another case where the author wrote a haskamah to his own book, but as you can see, the haskamah is not a typical haskamah.

Here is the title page of R. Yaakov Goldman’s Peret ve-Olelot (Jerusalem, 1930).

Here is the haskamah.

Speaking of the Aderet and haskamot, here is a chance to deal with a report that has assumed legendary status in the Merkaz ha-Rav world. R. Zvi Yehudah Kook claimed that the lengthy haskamah of the Aderet for the Chafetz Chaim’s Likutei Halakhot was actually written by R. Kook.

Here is the haskamah:

The story told by R. Zvi Yehudah and recorded by R. Moshe Zvi Neriah in Sihot ha-Re’iyah, pp. 123-124, is as follows: R. Kook visited his former father-in-law, the Aderet, while the Aderet was serving as the rav of the city of Mir. During this visit, a letter arrived from the Chafetz Chaim requesting a haskamah for his new book, Likutei Halakhot. He wished to have the haskamah sent as soon as possible, even on the very day his letter arrived, and included some portions of the book. The Aderet was very impressed and showed R. Kook what the Chafetz Chaim had sent. Due to his busy schedule, the Aderet was unable to write the haskamah that day, so he asked R. Kook to write it. R. Kook wrote the impressive haskamah that was later printed.

After R. Kook wrote the haskamah, the Aderet read it over and was ready to sign it. However, he stated that he could not take credit for a Torah explanation suggested by R. Kook, so he altered the text of the haskamah, attributing the explanation to R. Kook, the rav of Bausk. This haskamah is the very first one in Haskamot ha-Re’iyah (Jerusalem, 2017).

It is a very nice story, but is it true? Let me present a source that seems to contradict what R. Zvi Yehudah reported. In the Aderet’s autobiography, Seder Eliyahu, p. 100, the Aderet recounts how, due to a dispute in his city, the Chafetz Chaim came there to try to make peace. The Aderet then writes that a couple of weeks later he wrote the haskamah for Likutei Halakhot.

אז נתתי הסכמתי על ס‘ לקוטי הלכות להגה“צ בעל ח“ח שליט“א

Presumably, it was when the Chafetz Chaim visited the city that he gave the Aderet his work. If R. Kook had written the haskamah, wouldn’t the Aderet have mentioned it in his memoir? Furthermore, in R. Kook’s Eder ha-Yekar, p. 47, he says the following about his father-in-law:

כל הספרים הרבים שנתן עליהם הסכמתו, עבר עליהם מראשית עד אחרית וברוב העיר עליהם הערות

According to R. Kook, the Aderet would not give a haskamah unless he had read the entire book. However, the story as told by R. Zvi Yehudah suggests that the Aderet gave a haskamah without having gone through the book.

Based on the two points I have mentioned, I think it is legitimate to raise questions about the story told by R. Zvi Yehudah. It would make more sense to assume that the Aderet wrote the haskamah while R. Kook was in Mir and that the Aderet discussed the haskamah with R. Kook (which would explain the mention of R. Kook in the haskamah). But it is hard to reconcile R. Zvi Yehudah’s story with the Aderet’s own testimony in his memoir or with R. Kook’s description of how the Aderet would study a book before giving his haskamah.

A completely different version of the story involving the Aderet, R. Kook, and the haskamah was told by R. Kook’s nephew, R. Refael Kook. In his version, the haskamah was written by R. Kook for another book by the Chafetz Chaim, Nidhei Yisrael. Here is the story as found in Simcha Raz’s An Angel Among Men.[7]

When the Chafetz Chayim zt”l finished writing Nidchei Yisrael, he came to the Aderet (R. Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Te’omim) to receive a letter of approbation for the book.

The Aderet kept the book’s proof sheets in order to look through them before writing his approbation. Unfortunately, however, he came down with pneumonia and was quite ill for several weeks. During that time, the Chafetz Chaim came back to receive the approbation he so anxiously waited for. The Aderet’s doctor, however, forbade him to exert himself in any way; so he was unable to write the letter.

The Chafetz Chayim was very disappointed, having made the trip just for the approbation. Don’t worry,” said the Aderet. “I just married off my daughter to R. Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook, who is greater than me in many areas. He will write the letter, and I will sign it.”

And so it was: The Rav wrote an approbation for Nidchei Yisrael and the Aderet signed it, thus forging a strong bond of friendship between the Chafetz Chayim and Rav Kook.

In this version, the Aderet says that R. Kook had just married his daughter. This is obviously incorrect as the Aderet’s haskamah to Nidhei Yisrael is dated 1894. Yet R. Kook married his daughter in 1886 and she passed away in 1889. In 1894 R. Kook was married to the niece of the Aderet, the daughter of his twin brother, R. Zvi Yehudah Rabinowitz-Teomim.

Here is the haskamah to Nidhei Yisrael.

In the Torah journal Me-Avnei ha-Makom 15 (2003), pp. 15-17, a section from the Aderet’s still unpublished 1878 work Oznei David appears. The Aderet notes that the Chafetz Chaim spent Shabbat with him and records some of their Torah conversations. One of the points he mentions is that the Chafetz Chaim asked him how one could eat at various Jewish inns, which were places where Jews would stay while traveling. The issue for the Chafetz Chaim wasn’t kashrut. In those days, people trusted other religious Jews, and the notion that an outside hashgachah was required in such circumstances had not yet been introduced.

What concerned the Chafetz Chaim was that most of the owners of these inns did not tovel their utensils. How then could people eat there? The Aderet explained—and he sees this as a novel view—that it is only forbidden for the owner to use utensils that have not been toveled. Yet there is no problem for others to make use of these utensils. What is of particular historical interest here is that we see that laxity regarding the toveling of utensils is not a recent phenomenon, but was even seen among religious Jews in nineteenth-century Lithuania.

Regarding the Chafetz Chaim and the Aderet, the tradition is that when the Chafetz Chaim writes, והעירני א‘ מחכמי הזמן, in his discussion about Birkat Kohanim in the Diaspora[8], the unnamed scholar he refers to the Aderet.[9] With one exception, the Chafetz Chaim never mentions contemporary scholars by name in the Mishnah Berurah. In Orah Hayyim 585, in Beur Halakhah s.v ve-tov, he refers to R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk. The story here is that they had a dispute at a rabbinic conference and the Chafetz Chaim thought that his language was perhaps too sharp.[10] As an apology of sorts, he broke with his convention and mentioned R. Meir Simhah by name.

It is widely reported how the Chafetz Chaim admired Rav Kook and refused to allow anyone to speak negatively about him.[11] Among the various sources cited in all the discussions I have seen, no one has referred to R. Yosef Zussman, Mi-Behirei Tzadikaya, pp. 168, 176, that when R. Zvi Yehudah Kook was together with the Chafetz Chaim he was afraid to mention who his father was, out of fear that the Chafetz Chaim would express some criticism of Rav Kook. In the end, his fear was unfounded, and the Chafetz Chaim, upon finding out who he was, told R. Zvi Yehudah that R. Kook was a good friend of his.[12] This anecdote was included in two separate letters from R. Zussman to R. Moshe Zvi Neriah. While R. Neriah used other information from these letters in his own writings, he did not include the detail of R. Zvi Yehudah being worried that the Chafetz Chaim would criticize his father.

I know that it is difficult for opponents of R. Kook to deal with the fact that the Chafetz Chaim had such positive feelings for him. I wonder if they would adopt the approach of the Brisker Rav, R. Isaac Zev Soloveitchik. When asked why the Chafetz Chaim showed respect for a certain Zionist rabbi (not R. Kook), the Brisker Rav replied with the following critical comment: “This is what happens when you don’t listen to lashon hara!”[13] In other words, sometimes it is important to be aware of negative reports about certain individuals so you know how to properly relate to them.[14]

2. I recently played around with ChatGPT and found some incredible things. First, its translation ability is at a very high level. I put in some sentences from nineteenth-century Haskalah literature and the translations that came back are excellent. There are times that ChatGPT gets it wrong, and you always need to carefully review its translations. Yet it seems that we have entered a new era when it comes to translations. Going forward, should translators just insert Hebrew texts into ChatGPT and then check for accuracy and edit the translation? Perhaps this is already being done, which would be a major development.

I also became aware that you can put an article, even a PDF, into ChatGPT and it will give you a summary. Look what happened when I put Haym Soloveitchik’s “Rupture and Reconstruction” in and asked for a summary.

Summary of “Rupture and Reconstruction” by Haym Soloveitchik

Thesis & Central Argument:

Soloveitchik examines the transformation of Orthodox Jewish life in the modern era, particularly the shift from a mimetic (lived, experiential) tradition to a text-based halakhic culture. This shift, he argues, resulted from the sociocultural disruptions caused by the Holocaust and modernization.

I. The Loss of Mimetic Tradition

Traditionally, Jewish practice was absorbed through daily life rather than studied in texts. Children learned religious conduct by watching their parents and community rather than through legalistic study. However, this mimetic tradition began to break down due to several historical forces:

Modernity and Migration:

Jews who emigrated from Eastern Europe to America and Israel found themselves in new environments where religious life was no longer reinforced by communal structures.

In America, the pressures of assimilation and middle-class life further eroded informal religious transmission.

The Holocaust’s Impact:

The Holocaust annihilated the communities and individuals who had embodied and passed down the mimetic tradition.

The post-Holocaust Orthodox world was largely composed of religious survivors and their children, who lacked an organic religious upbringing.

As a result, Jews turned increasingly to written texts to reconstruct religious life, rather than continuing a naturally transmitted tradition.

II. The Rise of Text-Based Religious Life

With the breakdown of mimetic tradition, Orthodox Jews sought religious guidance in texts rather than communal precedent. Several key shifts occurred:

Stringency (Chumra) and “Maximum Position Compliance”:

Halakhic observance became more rigid, as Orthodox Jews increasingly sought the “most correct” way to perform rituals based on written sources rather than communal norms.

Practices that had previously been instinctual or lenient were now analyzed and subject to stricter interpretations.

Proliferation of Halakhic Literature:

The 20th century saw an explosion of halakhic texts, guiding every aspect of Jewish observance in meticulous detail.

Religious practice became more standardized and universalized across communities, rather than based on local custom.

The “Ritualization” of Daily Life:

Previously intuitive religious behaviors, like eating matzah at the Passover seder, were now measured and standardized (e.g., precise “shiurim” for halakhic measurements).

This shift emphasized precision and rule-following over natural, community-based observance.

III. Broader Sociological Implications

Soloveitchik argues that this shift reflects a broader pattern in Jewish history:

A Response to Cultural Erosion:

The disappearance of traditional Jewish life and the rise of middle-class acculturation created a need for stricter religious boundaries.

As Jewish life became more indistinguishable from non-Jewish life, Orthodoxy sought to reinforce distinctiveness through increased textual rigor.

The Influence of the Holocaust on Jewish Memory:

The Holocaust left Orthodox Jews without direct cultural transmission from past generations.

In response, they “reconstructed” an idealized version of pre-Holocaust Jewish life, one that was more rigidly text-based and uniform than the reality of Eastern European Judaism.

The Decline of Jewish Asceticism:

Historically, Jewish tradition included a strong ascetic streak, which emphasized self-denial and wariness of physical pleasures.

However, as Orthodox Jews became more integrated into middle-class life, this asceticism waned, replaced by an emphasis on ritual precision rather than self-denial.

Conclusion:

Soloveitchik describes a fundamental transformation in contemporary Orthodox Judaism: the replacement of an organic, mimetic tradition with a text-driven, rule-oriented religious culture. This shift has led to increased religious stringency, a focus on halakhic literature, and a reconstruction of Jewish memory that aligns with contemporary Orthodox practice rather than historical reality.

* * * * * * *

[1] R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, Piskei Rabbenu, ed. Aviner, Orah Hayyim, p. 31. R. Shlomo Aviner recently published a book titled Pesikah ke-Halakhah. It consists of “strange pesakim” by unnamed rabbis, and R. Aviner’s response. On p. 169 the “strange pesak” he records is that someone who goes to movies should do so in another city, not where he lives, and replace his black kippah with a kippah serugah. This “pesak” is obviously based on Moed Katan 17a: “If a person sees that his evil inclination is gaining control over him, then he should go to a place where he is not known. He should wear black, wrap his head in black, and do as his heart desires [in private] and not desecrate the name of Heaven in public.”

There are those, such as R. Chaim Kanievsky, who have ruled that it is preferable to pray by oneself with a jacket and hat, than pray with a minyan without these items. (E.g., if you are in a situation where if you run home to get your jacket and hat you won’t be able to pray with a minyan.) See R. Yair Yanai, Nekiut ve-Kavod bi-Tefillah, p. 208. Yet see ibid., p. 98, that R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach and R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv ruled that prayer with a minyan is more important than wearing a jacket and hat. See similarly R. Meir Mazuz, Makor Ne’eman, vol. 3, no. 151 and R. Yitzhak Ratzaby, Olat Yitzhak, vol. 3, Orah Hayyim, no. 36. See also here at minute 18 where R. Reuven Feinstein strongly rejects the idea that it is better to pray by oneself with a hat than pray with a minyan without a hat. The entire video is noteworthy. Following the exchange about praying with a hat, R. Reuven is asked at what age should a boy be taught to wear his tzitzit out. He responds, “at no age”, and elaborates on why there is no reason to wear tzitzit out. See also at 34:55 where the questioner wants to know what to do about students who are brought up with an ideology that leads them to want to join the IDF. R. Reuven replies that if they want to join that is fine, and the army will probably turn them into a mensch.
[2] See R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, Piskei Rabbenu, ed. Aviner, Orah Hayyim, pp. 31-32.
[3] I remember how surprised I was when R. Zuriel published his Masoret Seyag la-Torah. My surprise was due to how R. Zuriel chose to deny that Jacob ben Hayyim Ibn Adonijah, the masoretic scholar and editor of the first Mikraot Gedolot, later apostatized. See my Limits of Orthodox Theology, p. 93 n. 14, where I write that it is remarkable that a book could be published in modern times referring to Jacob ben Hayyim as one of the great scholars of Israel. For R. Mordechai Breuer’s harsh review of the R. Zuriel’s book, see Megadim 20 (Tamuz 5753), pp. 91-96, available here.
[4] Seder Eliyahu (Jerusalem, 1983), p. 82. On p. 106 he mentions it among the books he wrote. Moshe Reines on his own figured out that the Aderet was the author. See his Mivhar Ketavim, ed. Eliezer Brodt (Ramat Beit Shemesh, 2018), pp. 31, 605. I thank R. Eliezer Brodt for calling this to my attention. He also pointed out that R. Yisrael Dandrovitz discusses the Aderet’s haskamot in his book Hayu Devarim Me-Olam, vol. 2, ch. 22. The chapter is titled: מחברי ספרים שהסתתרו כמסכימים
[5] Akivah ben Ezra, Minhagei Hagim (Tel Aviv, 1963), p. 314 n. 7, cited in R. Yehudah Zoldan, Malkhut Yehudah ve-Yisrael, p. 451 n. 17. I write “Akivah” because the author spelled his name עקיבה. The standard way of spelling the name is עקיבא, yet Maimonides always spelled it עקיבה.
[6] Seder Eliyahu, pp. 102, 106 (including it among the books he wrote).
[7] Trans. Moshe D. Lichtman (Jerusalem, 2003), pp. 368-369.
[8] Mishnah Berurah, Sha’ar ha-Tziyun, Orah Hayyim 128 (following no. 136).
[9] See e.g., here.
[10] One version of the story is found in R. Elazar Shakh, Shimushah shel Torah, p. 159. In a future post I will discuss this incident.
[11] See e.g., here. Here is a letter from the Chafetz Chaim’s son-in-law, R. Aaron Cohen, which appears in Iggerot la-Re’iyah, pp. 565-566.

[12] More than thirty years ago I spent Shabbat at the home of the late R. Zev Neuman, who was a very close student of R. Zvi Yehudah and involved in the publication of writings of R. Kook and R. Zvi Yehudah. (See here for various articles about Neuman.) At one of the Shabbat meals, Neuman took out a manuscript of one of R. Zvi Yehudah’s talks and read it to us. R. Zvi Yehudah described how he stayed at the Chafetz Chaim’s home and the Chafetz Chaim personally set up the bed for him. This passage, which made such an impression on me that I still remember it vividly so many years later, has unfortunately not yet appeared in print.
[13] Zvi Yavrov, Ma’aseh Ish, vol. 2, p. 85. See R. Michel Zalman Shurkin, Meged Givot Olam, vol. 2, p. 78, who quotes his father that near Radin lived a great talmid hakham who was a member of Mizrachi. The Chafetz Chaim stood up for this rabbi even though he also spoke very strongly against Mizrachi. The city of Radin is close to Lida, so I wonder if the unnamed Mizrachi rabbi was R. Isaac Jacob Reines, who actually founded Mizrachi.

It is of interest that the Chafetz Chaim’s son, R. Aryeh Leib, who assisted him in writing the Mishnah Berurah and later became the rav of Radin, publicly supported the Mizrachi. This fact is never mentioned by Haredi writers. Yet it is also noteworthy that although R. Aryeh Leib was a member of the secret Hovevei Tziyon society in Volozhin, his public identification with Mizrachi only occurred after the death of the Chafetz Chaim. It seems clear that, out of respect for his father, he refrained from publicly identifying with Mizrachi during his father’s lifetime. See Entzyklopedia shel ha-Tziyonut ha-Datit, vol. 4, cols. 273ff.

See R. Michel Zalman Shurkin,, Meged Givot Olam, vol. 1, pp. 48-49, that R. Mendel Zaks, the son-in-law of the Chafetz Chaim, preferred the biography of the Chafetz Chaim written by R. Meir Moshe Yosher over the volume written by R. Zaks brother-in-law, R. Aryeh Leib. He explained that Yosher’s volume just gives the facts, while R. Aryeh Leib also gives reasons for various actions and practices of the Chafetz Chaim, “and we do not have permission to give reasons for the actions of gedolei Yisrael.”
[14] See also Yavrov, Ma’aseh Ish, vol. 7, p. 94, that the Chafetz Chaim wrote that there is no enjoyment from telling lashon hara, and the Hazon Ish commented that apparently the Chafetz Chaim never told lashon hara, or he would have seen that one can indeed get pleasure from this.

Regarding lashon hara, see also Yavrov, Ma’aseh Ish, vol. 5, p. 31, where the Hazon Ish is quoted as saying that it is not lashon hara to say that someone does not know how to learn, as we need to know who is learned and who is not. Since there is a purpose in knowing who is a gadol be-Torah, therefore it is permitted to say that someone is not a gadol. This approach explains how it is not uncommon to hear people saying about various rabbis that they are “not so great in learning”. But I assume that the Hazon Ish was referring to rabbis making these judgments about other rabbis, not that laypeople would offer such comments. See also ibid, vol. 7, p. 94, where it records that on Kol Nidrei night the Hazon Ish told the students that we will now speak “kosher lashon hara.” He proceeded to speak about a rabbi who imagined that the Hebrew University was the Third Temple. He then turned to heaven and declared:

נו, רבונו של עולם, מספיק בשבילו מה שכבר קלקל עד כאן!

This can only refer to R. Kook, but as is well known, the notion that R. Kook compared the Hebrew University to the Temple, or that he applied to it the biblical verse, כי מציון תצא תורה, are complete fabrications by the enemies of R. Kook which misled even many great Torah scholars. See Moshe Alharar, Likhvodah shel Torah (Jerusalem, 1988), which is devoted to the slander directed against R. Kook.

A Young Man Holding a Torah Scroll and a Young Woman Holding a Book:
The Life and Afterlife of Two Illustrations

By Rachel Manekin

Rachel Manekin is Professor Emerita of Jewish Studies at the University of Maryland. Her area of specialization is the social, political, and cultural history of Galician Jewry. She is the author of The Jews of Galicia and the Austrian Constitution: The Beginning of Modern Jewish Politics (Zalman Shazar Center for Jewish History, 2015, Hebrew), and most recently, The Rebellion of the Daughters: Jewish Women Runaways in Habsburg Galicia (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2024; Hebrew). Her previous essay at The Seforim Blog was in Rachel Manekin and Charles (Bezalel) Manekin, “The Ḥafetz Ḥayyim’s Statement on Teaching Torah to Girls in Likutei Halakhot: Literary and Historical Context,” The Seforim Blog (27 May 2020), available here.

The 1922 illustration below of a young man holding a Torah scroll has gained a new life within the context of recent Bais Yaakov scholarship and a partial image of it appears on the main page of the Bais Yaakov Project website.[1]

This article calls into question this use of the illustration and shows that it has no connection to the Bais Yaakov movement, or Orthodox women, at least in interwar Poland. The article first traces the origin of the illustration and the context in which it was used after its first publication, and then examines the campaign proposed in 1933 to mobilize Bais Yaakov students in Poland to support financially the writing of a Torah scroll. Finally, the article presents an interwar illustration of a young woman holding a book with a tall Hanukkah menorah in the background. The latter was used as a symbol of Bais Yaakov in Viennese publications in the German language, but never appeared in Polish Yiddish publications of the Bais Yaakov movement. The article suggests a possible reason for that.

The illustration of the young man holding the Torah scroll appeared first on a postcard, one in a set of ten “art postcards” drawn by Uriel Birnbaum, the son of the general secretary of Agudath Yisrael, Nathan Birnbaum. The postcards were produced by the Viennese Tseirei Agudath Yisrael organization (Agudas Jisroel Jugendgruppe) and sold for fundraising purposes. The price of each set was 500 krone. Indeed, in May 1922 the Austrian Orthodox weekly Jüdische Presse published advertisements for this set.[2]

In 1924 the Viennese Menorah Journal published two of the postcards in a long article dedicated to Uriel Birnbaum.[3]

Each postcard had a black and white illustration of a Biblical theme with a Biblical verse under it. One can see the original envelope and some of the postcards (including the youth with the Torah scroll) in an advertisement published on February 28, 2023, on the website of Kedem Auction House:[4]

The postcard with the illustration of the youth holding a Torah scroll as if rescuing it from the whirlwind in the background (perhaps symbolizing the First World War) appears with the verse from Jeremiah 1:7, “Do not say I am a youth, for to whomsoever I shall send thee thou shalt go and whatsoever I shall command you thee thou shalt speak” (אַל תֹּאמַר נַעַר אָנֹכִי כִּי עַל כָּל אֲשֶׁר אֶשְׁלָחֲךָ תֵּלֵךְ וְאֵת כָּל אֲשֶׁר אֲצַוְּךָ תְּדַבֵּר). The import in this context is that one should not excuse himself from obeying God’s commandment, interpreted here as spreading Torah study, by claiming to be a youth.

The youth is wearing a long kapota reaching his feet, as did many at the time, and his head, especially the back of it, is all colored in black and so one cannot see the skullcap. Still, it is obvious that this is a young male, not only because of the Biblical verse under it, but also because it is absolutely inconceivable that a female carrying a Torah scroll would appear in an Agudath Yisrael sponsored postcard in the 1920s (or, for that matter, today).

After its original publication as a postcard, the illustration was used always in the context of male Torah study. To the best of my knowledge, it first was featured in the 1925 booklet of Keren ha-Torah (חוברת של קרן התורה) which included several other of Uriel Birnbaum’s postcard illustrations.[5] The illustration appears at the top of a rabbinical appeal (קול קורא) that was published in the wake of the First Assembly of Agudath Yisrael (1923) to support Keren ha-Torah. It stretches over several pages and is signed by major Agudah rabbinical figures of the time, with the Ḥafetz Ḥayim and the leaders of the Czortków and Ger Hasidic dynasties appearing first. The illustration was edited to include only the image and not the Biblical verse. Keren ha-Torah was established during the First Assembly in the purpose of supporting yeshivas, many of which collapsed during the First World War.

It should be noted that contrary to claims in recent scholarship on Bais Yaakov, there is no evidence that the First Assembly of Agudath Yisrael in 1923 mentioned the Bais Yaakov schools, and the published reports of the assembly included nothing about the support of religious education for girls.[6] During the 1924 meeting of the Central Council of Agudath Yisrael in Kraków, several delegates called for actual steps to be taken by Keren ha-Torah to support Bais Yaakov schools. Indeed, after major rabbinical figures supported this idea, the participants at a special meeting in the winter of 1925 drew up a plan to financially support the establishment of a teachers’ seminary and improve professionally the Bais Yaakov school system, all under the leadership of R. Dr. Shmuel Leo Deutschländer, the director of Keren ha-Torah. It was only during the Second Assembly of Agudath Yisrael (1929) that Bais Yaakov was mentioned.[7]

Birnbaum’s illustration of the youth with a Torah scroll later appeared in Luach Blätter der Agudas-Jisroel Jugendgruppe-Wien, the periodical of the Viennese Tseirei Agudath Yisrael, for the year 1931, this time with the Biblical verse.

A 1937 publication of Keren ha-Torah also included this illustration, albeit without the Biblical verse. It appeared on the title page of the first chapter which was dedicated to the discussions on male Torah education in the Second Assembly of Agudath Yisrael (1929).[8]

The same 1937 publication included a chapter with supplements the largest of which discussed in detail the Bais Yaakov schools. The heading of this chapter had an illustration of a young woman holding a book to which we will return below.

First, however, I wish to discuss the aforementioned campaign for writing a Torah scroll which was introduced in a Bais Yaakov Journal article in the Hebrew month of Iyar, 1933, titled: “The ‘Yehudis’ Camp’s Own Torah Scroll Will Be Written Through the Students of the Bais Yaakov Schools in Poland.”[9]

The article describes the plan for purchasing letters by Bais Yaakov students for a Torah scroll to be written for the Yehudis summer camp.[10] Camp Yehudis, according to articles published in the 1933 journal, was the first permanent summer camp built for Orthodox children, boys and girls. The journal includes two photographs of children in the camp, one of boys and another of girls.

Clearly, this summer camp was not intended exclusively for Bais Yaakov girls as can be seen also in a photograph kept in the YIVO archives of boys in the camp playing chess.[11]

The plan to have Bais Yaakov students raise money for writing a Torah scroll was proposed by Yoel Unger, a Warsaw Agudah activist and the director of one of the Bais Yaakov schools in the city. Unger was in charge of the Yehudis association,[12] and it was he who came up with the initiative to build a summer camp. Indeed, the camp was built in 1931 in the village of Długosiodło, 73 km north-east of Warsaw.[13] In the years prior to that, the Yehudis association rented camp facilities for the summer, first in 1929 in Marązy and then in 1930 in Otwock. The aim of the summer camp was to provide children, many of whom came from impoverished families, with an opportunity to enjoy fresh air and water as well as physical exercises in a country setting. In doing that, it followed what was already a norm for non-Orthodox Jewish organizations in interwar Poland. In later years the summer camp added a sanatorium for children who were at risk of tuberculosis.[14]

The number of girls in the new camp exceeded the number of boys,[15] perhaps because boys went to cheder also in the summer months.

Why was obtaining a Torah scroll necessary for a summer camp for children that apparently did not even have its own synagogue?[16] The girl campers, according to Esther Goldshtof, prayed on Friday night and on Sabbath morning in the forest surrounding the camp while sitting on benches.[17] It is not clear from the articles in the Bais Yaakov Journal whether the boys – all younger than 13 – did the same or whether they prayed in the town’s synagogue. Of course, one could place a Torah scroll in one of the rooms and have the boys pray and hear the Torah reading there. But it is more likely that Unger intended to use the money raised also for the camp itself, which struggled with a deficit because of the high expenses of running it.[18] Only a small number of children paid the full tuition, while the rest received a discount or went there for free.[19] The camp did receive financial support from the Viennese Keren ha-Torah, the Warsaw Jewish community, German Jewish organizations, the American Joint, as well as some large donations from rich Jews. Small donations from individuals also helped as those apparently accumulated to large sums.[20] In addition, Bais Yaakov raised money from their students to support the camp, mostly with the help of teachers in the three Bais Yaakov schools in Warsaw and some from Bais Yaakov schools in Rzeszów, Sosnowiec, Częstochowa, Wolbrom, Szydłowiec, Bychawa, Płock, Bełchatów, and Pińczów. Those were small sums amounting to 10-60 zlotys.[21]

This was the context of Unger’s somewhat ambitious plan to recruit Bais Yaakov teachers to raise money for writing a Torah scroll, as explained in the 1933 Bais Yaakov Journal article.

Reaching Bais Yaakov teachers would be relatively easy since one could use advertisements in the Bais Yaakov journal to which all teachers were required to subscribe, or contact Bais Yaakov schools directly, the addresses of which were kept in the central Bais Yaakov office in Kraków. There was no parallel journal or a central office with the addresses of all cheders and Talmud Torahs. The 1933 Bais Yaakov Journal article explained that “the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll, which only individuals are able to fulfill, will be done now through the Bais Yaakov students with their own efforts.” Unger refers here to the positive commandment obligating every individual Jew to write a Torah scroll for himself or hire a scribe to do it for him. Since this is an expensive endeavor, it is allowed to pay for it in partnership with others.[22] At the same time, the article added, the money collected would also support Bais Yaakov students who cannot afford the camp tuition. Clearly, Unger himself explained that the money raised was meant not only for writing the Torah scroll.

Unger proposed that the Yehudis association would send to all Bais Yaakov schools signature forms with a picture of a Torah scroll. The price of purchasing a letter to be written in the scroll would be 25 groshen (pennies), and the names of all those who purchased a letter would be inscribed in a special book. However, each Bais Yaakov student would need to purchase a letter and sell at least one additional letter. A student who sold at least ten letters would receive gratis an additional letter in her name. The teachers responsible for selling 200 letters would have their names etched forever on a special board, and in addition they would be able to have a whole word in the Torah scroll on their name with a great discount.

But Unger proposed even more than this. The day that the writing would commence would be declared a holiday (יום טוב) in all Bais Yaakov schools. On this day the teachers would deliver lectures about the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll,[23] and organize celebrations and special programs. When the writing of the Torah scroll would be completed – scheduled for 15^th of the Hebrew month of Av – a three-day Siyum celebration would take place in Długosiodło with the participation of all Bais Yaakov teachers, students’ delegations, the central administrations of Yehudis and the Bais Yaakov schools in Warsaw, Kraków, and Łódź. Unger also proposed that at the time of the Siyum celebration a special conference for Bais Yaakov teachers and operatives (‘askanim) would take place in Długosiodło to discuss all the problems of the movement. It is to be expected, he wrote, that the Bais Yaakov teachers would understand the important significance of this campaign, which would for sure be a wellspring of joy and enthusiasm for Bais Yaakov children and would unite them into one family that owned its own Torah scroll. It would also help the camp financially and enable it to develop so it could accept more children in need. “That is why our teachers,” Unger envisioned, “will work for the campaign with energy and dedication.” Unger added that in the following days the Yehudis association would send out the first circular with instructions regarding this important campaign.

But this ambitious and elaborate plan never came to pass, as is clear from two articles published in the Agudah newspaper, Dos Yudishe Togblat, a month after the death of Sarah Schenirer, which provided an opportunity to relaunch the project.[24] The first article, written by Abraham Mordechai Rogovy, who was involved in many aspects of Bais Yaakov, reports that the Education Center (מרכז החינוך) of Agudath Yisrael has now proclaimed for Benos and Bais Yaakov girls a campaign of writing a Torah scroll for the summer camp to memorialize Sarah Schenirer. The initiator was Yoel Unger, who had already made a name for himself as an expert fundraiser. Rogovy does not mention purchasing letters or fulfilling the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll (the word “mitzvah” does not appear at all), but rather that there is not a more beautiful monument for Schenirer “than a Torah scroll written in partnership (בשותפות) with tens of thousands of Jewish religious girls.” The life-ideal of Schenirer, he continues, was always to connect Jewish girls to the Torah, so that their entire being and every thread of their gentle souls would feel the connection of Israel and the Torah (ישראל ואורייתא). He also writes that “there is no better manifestation of the wish to remain loyal to the teachings of Sarah Schenirer a”h than to join a common Torah campaign that should include all the Benos and the Bais Yaakov students,” or that the “Torah campaign will be transformed into a great manifestation of the Benos and Bais Yaakov idea.” Interestingly, there is no mention of the role of Bais Yaakov teachers; rather Rogovy calls on the (male) ‘askanim of Bais Yaakov and the (female) activists of Benos “to throw themselves with energy in the collection.” According to Rogovy, the writing of the Torah scroll is expected to start on 33 of the ‘Omer )May 21) and be completed on the 15^th of Av (August 14). Like Unger’s original plan, Rogovy also talks about a “grandiose” Siyum celebration after which everyone will travel to Schenirer’s tombstone in Kraków, where they will announce that a Torah scroll in her memory was completed.

The second article presents an undated letter that Schenirer wrote to Bais Yaakov girls, presumably following Unger’s 1933 article in the Bais Yaakov Journal, encouraging them to buy letters for the Torah scroll. The article explains that although the project was not carried out then “for various reasons” it has now been renewed by the initiators. “‘Keren ha-Torah’ with Agudath Yisrael are about to write a Torah scroll named after Sarah Schenirer, may she rest in peace.”

Schenirer’s letter, which has hitherto been unnoticed, reveals an important point not indicated in any of the articles cited above, namely, the audience for the Torah scroll. Ascribing to the Warsaw ‘askanim the establishment of the Yehudis summer camp, Schenirer explains that they thought that the boys who benefit from the camp should have a Torah scroll of their own so they would not have to use a Torah scroll that was already donated to some “bais midrash” [in the area]. By buying letters, Schenirer writes, the girls would not only be “fulfilling the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll,” but also be participating in writing a Torah in which it is written עֵץ חַיִּים הִיא לַמַּחֲזִיקִים בָּהּ וְתֹמְכֶיהָ מְאֻשָּׁר. In short, Schenirer saw the goal of the project to provide a sefer Torah for the boys in the camp, and to involve girls in the mitzvah of its production by buying letters.

While the article does not explain why the first campaign never got off the ground, one may speculate that the sum collected just was not enough for the project. (Schenirer writes in the beginning of her letter that she knows that more than one will complain about being asked again for money, especially at such difficult time.) Perhaps the initial project was frowned upon by some parents or rabbis. After all, the idea that Bais Yaakov girls would be fulfilling the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll made little sense since according to most religious legal opinions, women are exempt from this mitzvah, not to mention that most girls were minors.[25] Indeed, Unger’s 1933 article does not mention rabbinical support for his proposal. The second initiative avoided, as we have seen, mentioning buying letters or referring to it as the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll, and instead talked simply about a “collection.”

Apparently, the second initiative did not materialize either; had a Torah scroll in memory of Schenirer been written, it would have surely been reported in the Bais Yaakov journal or in Dos Yudishe Togblat.

We now come to the illustration mentioned above of the young woman holding a large book with a tall Hanukkah menorah in the background that is found in the 1937 Keren ha-Torah publication.[26]

In fact, this illustration had appeared already in 1935 on the title page of a Keren ha-Torah booklet containing a report written by Deutschländer on the activities of the central office of the Bais Yaakov schools.[27]

Although the publications where this illustration appeared do not have the name of the artist, the style of the illustration suggests that it might also have been Uriel Birnbaum.

The unusually large book that the young woman is holding and the tall menorah in the background are not explained. We may speculate that the young woman in the illustration portrays a Bais Yaakov teacher as a modern “Judith”, a heroine who saves the Jewish people. Whereas the classical Judith held in her arms the head of the decapitated enemy general, Holofernes, this Judith holds a book (ספר, בית ספר). European artists have painted the scene of Judith carrying the head of Holophernes for centuries.

Connecting the illustration to Judith would explain the Hanukkah menorah in the background, for in the Jewish medieval tradition, Judith was associated with Hanukkah.[28] Moreover, Sarah Schenirer, who established the first Bais Yaakov school, records in her 1933 published memoir that she was inspired by the sermon delivered by R. Moshe David Flesch in Vienna on the Sabbath of Hanukkah which described the greatness of Judith and called contemporary Jewish women to take as an example the historical Jewish women heroines.[29] Schenirer subsequently wrote a dramatization of the story of Judith for girls.[30]

Starting on December 13, 1920, after Schenirer and her students staged the play in the Orthodox Warsaw Ḥavazelet high school during a visit there, the published version was advertised on the front page of the Warsaw daily newspaper of Agudath Yisrael, Der Yud, for several weeks (first as the most beautiful present for “children” and later as a present for “girls”).

However, the above illustration of the young woman did not appear in the Bais Yaakov Journal or in any other Polish Agudath Yisrael publication. The illustrator for the Viennese publication was apparently unaware of the modesty requirements in the Polish Bais Yaakov movement, especially the style of the dress and the length of the sleeves. In illustrations of women and girls appearing in textbooks for school age Bais Yaakov students, the women were portrayed with long sleeves reaching the wrist.[31]

* * *

To sum up: we began by mentioning that Birnbaum’s illustration of the young man holding the Torah scroll appears prominently in recent academic forums where Bais Yaakov is discussed.[32] We have claimed that this illustration was neither appropriated nor used by the Bais Yaakov movement in any of its publications. In fact, it is inconceivable that it would do so. But it is understandable why some today would like the illustration to have been of a woman, or at least be relevant to women. Such an interpretation accords nicely with the narrative in recent scholarship that Bais Yaakov provided Orthodox women in Poland, for the first time, the opportunity to have a strong connection with Torah study. The same is true of the aforementioned proposed campaign to write the Torah scroll. That interpretation bolsters the contemporary reading of the Bais Yaakov movement in interwar Poland as a movement that brought Torah to women by involving them in the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll and by teaching them classical texts and commentaries (albeit not of the Talmud) in the Kraków seminary. In various writings I have shown this reading to be mistaken.[33]

In fact, the Bais Yaakov movement was from its inception a deeply conservative movement of religious revival aimed at Polish Orthodox girls and young women, in an age when various ideologies (Zionism, Socialism, Bund, etc.) competed for their attention. Through mostly supplementary education and youth activities, the movement promoted a model of a Jewish woman that emphasized piety and modesty in dress, and that educated girls to accept with pride and joy their traditional roles as Orthodox women. This is why it enjoyed and benefited from broad rabbinic support from the outset.[34] The small number of zealous Hasidic leaders who opposed the Bais Yaakov schools did so only after Agudath Yisrael, their ideological foe, took it under its auspices. It also explains why of all the Polish and Lithuanian innovations in Orthodox Jewish female education during and after the First World War (e.g., the Warsaw Ḥavazelet high school or the girls’ Yavneh high school in Telz), Sarah Schenirer’s afternoon school in Kraków, which taught young girls prayer, strict Orthodox observance, and Biblical stories, was adopted by the Polish Agudath Yisrael as the model for the development of the Bais Yaakov school network. The Bais Yaakov teachers’ seminary provided the teachers for these schools. Schenirer, a pious woman with a burning zeal for bringing Jewish women back to Orthodoxy, played a major role as the public face of the movement, primarily as its chief promoter in the towns and Polish countryside, and as the “spiritual mother” of the movement.[35] But the portrait of her as instituting women Torah study for its own sake, or of encouraging life-long study of Torah, a portrait that accords with modern progressive sensibilities, does not stand up to sober historical inquiry.[36]

Notes

[1] The illustration appears as a frontispiece of a chapter in Naomi Seidman, Sarah Schenirer and the Bais Yaakov Movement: A Revolution in the Name of Tradition (Liverpool: Littman Library, 2019), 226.
[2] Jüdische Presse, May 12, 113; Jüdische Presse, May 19, 120.
[3] Menorah: jüdisches Familienblatt für Wissenschaft, Kunst und Literatur, May 1924, 17. See also Der Israelit: Ein Centralorgan für das orthodoxe Judentum, October 6, 1930, 22.
[4] See the auction site here.
[5] Shabtai Scheinfeld (ed.), Ḥoveret shel Keren Ha- Torah, Vienna 1925, 24. For a digitized copy see https://hebrewbooks.org/43310.
[6] For a detailed discussion on this issue see Rachel Manekin, “Torah Education for Girls in the Interwar Bais Yaakov School System: A Re-Examination,” Zion, vol. 88, no. 2 (2023): 219-262, esp. 238-244, 238n71 (Hebrew). In 1929 Leo Deutschländer recounted that “just a few months” after the First Assembly, Keren ha-Torah took up its task “according to five main directions,” the fifth of which was to establish and expand the Bais Yaakov organization of schools for girls. If that is the case, then the decision of Keren Ha-Torah to support the Bais Yaakov schools was taken at its first founding meeting on December 25, 2023. But no practical steps were taken until the September 1924 meeting of the Central Council of Agudath Yisrael in Kraków.
[7] Der Israelit: Ein Centralorgan für das orthodoxe Judentum, Blätter, September 19, 1929, 2, §2c.
[8] Programm und Leistung: Keren Hathorah und Beth Jakob 1929-1937: Bericht an die dritte Kenessio Gedaulo, London/Vienna 1937, 5.
[9] See Naomi Seidman’s blog post, “When Bais Yaakov Girls Commissioned a Sefer Torah,” available here. The illustration of the youth with the sefer Torah (including the Biblical verse) accompanies the blog post giving the impression that it is part of the original 1933 article on the campaign. The following corrects inaccuracies in the blog post and adds details concerning the proposed campaign that did not come to fruition. Cf. Seidman, Sarah Schenirer and the Bais Yaakov Movement, 166.
[10] “An-eigene sefer-torah far der kolonye ‘yehudis’ vert gishribn durch di shilerins fun di beis yakov shuln in Poyln” (The ‘Yehudis’ camp’s own sefer Torah will be written through the students of the Bais Yaakov schools in Poland), Bais Yaakov 104 (1933), 15-16.

[11] YIVO Archives, ID: RG 120 / yarg120po705.01, “Description: Dlugosiodlo, 1920s-1930s. Boys playing chess at the Yehudia summer camp for religious children. Photographed by Leo Forbert.” The description erroneously calls the camp “Yehudia”.
[12] The Yehudis association was founded in 1928 for the purpose of religious education of girls. Among its aims it listed also the establishment of summer camps for girls from religious schools and ensuring that poor children attend school. Its organizing committee included Alexander Zusha Friedman, Yoel Unger, Yehudah Leib Orlean, and others. See “Oyfruf funem ferband far relig. yudishe techter ertsihung in varsha ‘yehudis’” (call of the association for a religious education for girls in Warsaw “Yehudis”), Der Yud, April 2, 1928, 4.
[13] “Gilaygt a yesod… fun der gruntshtayn chagigah in dlugashadle” (placing a foundation… about the cornerstone celebration in Długosiodło), Bais Yaakov 69 (1931), 2-3. Gershon Eliezer Friedenson, who wrote the article, says that when he visited the socialist Medem sanatorium five years earlier he was ashamed and jealous for not having a truly-Jewish similar institution. See also “Fayerleche grunt-shtayn leygn fun der ershter ortodoksisher zumer-kolonye ‘yehudis’ in dlugat-shadle” (the festive cornerstone placing of the first orthodox summer camp ‘Yehudis’ in Długosiodło), ibid., 14; “Der fayerliche chanukat-habayis fun der ershter ortodoksisher zumer-kolonye ‘Yehudis’” (The festive opening celebration of the first Orthodox summer-camp ‘Yehudis’), Dos Vort, June 26, 1931, 4.
[14] See the article in a Yiddish newspaper on a visit of journalists organized by the camp, “A bezuch in der chasidisher… ‘medem-sanatarye’ in dlugashadle” (A visit in the chasidic ‘Medem-sanatorium’ in Długosiodło), Unzer Białystoker Expres, January 13, 1939, 14. ‘Medem’ was the famous Tsysho sanatorium for children named after the Bundist leader Vladimir Medem. The article, which praises the camp and includes two photographs, also mentions the physical exercises as well as the play and the songs performed by the girls for the journalists. See also the photographs published in the art section supplement, Forverts, March 26, 1939.

[15] A[lexander] Z[usha] Friedman, “Di arbit far der zumer kolonye ‘Yehudis” in licht fun tsifern” (the work for the summer camp ‘Yehudis’ in light of numbers), Bais Yaakov 104 (1933), 9-11.
[16] An article by Unger written after the camp was built lists the rooms in the building in the following manner: six rooms for sleeping, a dining hall, an office, a lounge for the [female] teachers, an isolation room [for the sick], two washrooms, pantry, kitchen with separate facilities for milk and meat dishes, wardrobe room, porches, “etc.” Had there been a synagogue in the building it would have certainly been listed. see Yoel Unger, “Fir yohr ‘yehudis’ arbit” (four years of the ‘Yehudis” work), Bais Yaakov 104 (1933), 5-6, especially 6.
[17] Esther Goldshtof, “Dos leben oyf unzere kolonye” (the life in our camp), Bais Yaakov 104 (1933), 8.
[18] The deficit in the summer of 1933 amounted to 8,000 zloty, and in addition the camp needed to complete things like running water and electricity, see A[lexander] Z[usha] Friedman, “Di arbit far der zumer kolonye ‘yehudis” in licht fun tsifern” (the work for the summer camp ‘Yehudis’ in light of numbers), Bais Yaakov 104 (1933), 11.
[19] Twenty-five children paid full tuition in 1931 and 100 in 1932. 310 children received a discount in 1931 and 180 in 1932 while 55 children went for free in 1931 and 75 in 1932, ibid., 9-10.
[20] “Der fayerlicher chanukat-habayit fun der ershter ortodoksisher zumer-kolonye ‘yehudis’” (the festive dedication celebration of the first Orthodox summer camp ‘Yehudis’), Dos Yudishe Togblat, June 22, 1931, 5.
[21] “Reshimeh fun menadvim letovas der ‘yehudis’ kolonye in dlugashadle”, (a list of contributors for the benefit of ‘Yehudis’ camp in Długosiodło), Bais Yaakov 104 (1933), 15-16.
[22] For the mitzvah obligating individuals to write a sefer Torah and the question whether it applies also to women see the article by R. Eliezer Melamed, available here; and the sources presented by Barry Gelman, here.
[23] This mitzvah is not about the laws of the Torah scribe or about the mechanisms of inscribing a Torah, but rather about the mitzvah that applies to each individual Jew.
[24] A[braham] M[ordechai] Rogovy, “Di heyntige hatcholah (tsu di shloyshim fun froy scheniere a”h) (Todays beginning: at the shloshim of Mrs. Schenirer, may she rest in peace), Dos Yudishe Togblat 169, April 2, 1935, 3; “A brief fun Sarah Schenirer a”h tsu di Bais Yaakov kinder vegen koyfn otiyos in der sefer-Torah far der ‘yehudis’ kolonye (A letter from Sarah Schenirer, may she rest in peace, to the Bais Yaakov children regarding buying letters in the Torah scroll for the Yehudis camp), Ibid., 6. The issue number is different on every page, but the correct date and issue number is as written on the front page.
[25] According to the “Sha’agat Aryeh” there is no reason to exempt women, see Aryeh Leib Gintsburg, Sha’agat Aryeh, 69-70 (https://hebrewbooks.org/14616), but his is a minority opinion.
[26] Programm und Leistung: Keren Hathorah und Beth Jakob 1929-1937: Bericht an die dritte Kenessio Gedaulo, London/Vienna 1937, 295.
[27] L[eo] Deutschländer, Tätigkeitsbericht der Beth Jacob Zentrale, Vienna 1935.
[28] On Judith, see Kevin R. Brine at al. (eds.) The Sword of Judith: Judith Studies across the Disciplines, open access, 2010, especially chapter 2, “The Jewish Textual Traditions” by Deborah Levin Gera.
[29] Sarah Schenirer, Gezamelte Shriftn, New York 1955, 9. This is the American edition (with some corrections to the original Polish 1933 edition) available online, see https://hebrewbooks.org/41613.
[30] The image below comes from the Moreshet auction house, which can be accessed here.
[31] See Eliezer Gershon Friedenson at al., Yiddish loshn: ilustrirte alef-bais un layen-buch far ershtn shul-yor, Lodz 1933.
[32] Cf. the website of the 2023 international conference on Bais Yaakov held at the University of Toronto, available here. The illustration also adorns the cover of the conference program, available here.
[33] See, for example, Manekin, “Torah Education for Girls.”
[34] The claim that Bais Yaakov was “controversial among the Orthodox at the outset,” and that Schenirer herself aroused orthodox opposition initially, is made among others by Seidman, Sarah Schenirer and the Bais Yaakov Movement, 5; its basis is the author’s interpretation of a story circulating in Bais Yaakov when she was a student there: “When she [Schenirer] would walk around the towns of Poland in her efforts to found Bais Yaakov schools, Jewish boys would throw stones at her. She would bend down, pick up the stones, and say to her assailants, ‘From these stones will I build my school.’”

According to Seidman’s interpretation of the story, Schenirer “was seen by some in the Orthodox community as a dangerous innovator, and had thus faced opposition (stones), which she turned into support (schools).” Seidman cites for this E. G. Friedenson’s 1936 children’s anthology about Schenirer, Di mamis tsavoah: Zaml-buch far kinder un yugnt (The Mother’s Last Will: An Anthology for Children and Youth), 35-36. However, the story in Friedenson, which appears in the chapter on “Stories and Bon Mots” (mayselach un gute verter) and not in the chapter on “Life and Deeds,” differs significantly: “Mrs. Schenirer once visited a shtetl accompanied by its teacher. At that time, the idea of Bais Yaakov was not yet well known and fully developed as today, and its leaders and teachers were mocked at. When Sarah Schenirer had arrived in the city, a few young rascals (לאבוזיס; the Yiddish term comes from the Polish łobuz, ‘rogue’. See also Alexander Harkavy’s Yiddish dictionary for לאבוסעס) threw stones into [the classroom] (איר ארײַנגיווארפן) and one stone hit the teacher who, because of this, felt upset. We will have not just one stone – Schenirer said with a smile – they will throw stones and we will build with the stones our Bais Yaakov.” For a Hebrew translation see Em be-Yisrael, vol. 2, Yechezkel Rotenberg (ed.), Bnei Berak 1960, 41-42.

The story, apparently the first time to appear in print, and which may or may not have any basis in fact, refers to one incident in which ignorant rascals threw stones into somewhere, presumably, the school, and struck a teacher – providing Schenirer in the story with an occasion for a bon mot. Decades later, the story appears to have morphed into a tale of “violent opponents” throwing stones at Sarah Schenirer herself. See Chava Weinberg Pincus, “An American in Cracow,” in Daughters of Destiny: Women who Revolutionized Jewish Life and Torah Education, compiled by Devora Rubin, Brooklyn 1988, 189-208, esp. 200: “It was her courage and idealism that made her pick up the rocks thrown at her by violent opponents to Bais Yaakov. Rocks in hand, she would turn to her talmidos saying, ‘We will take these rocks and turn them into bricks with which we will build Bais Yaakow’.” See Shoshanah Bechhofer, “Identity and Educational Mission of Bais Yaakov Schools: The Structuration of an Organizational Field as the Unfolding of Discursive Logics,” Ph.D. Dissertation, Northwestern University, 2005, 121-122.

Clearly, לאבוזיס are not simply “Jewish boys,” nor can they represent Orthodox opposition to Schenirer as a “dangerous innovator,” since such opposition to her did not exist, even among the zealots who opposed Bais Yaakov as an Agudah project.
[35] Schenirer’s travel to towns throughout Poland was aimed to convince local Agudah ‘askanim to spend the money needed to open an afternoon Bais Yaakov school (housing and salary for the teacher, an appropriate space for the school, school expenses, etc.), as well as to convince parents to send their daughters to the school. As described in Yehudah Leib Orlean’s eulogy after Schenirer’s death, convincing ‘askanim was not always easy, although the people felt for her and the gedolei yisroel understood her, both placing their greatest trust in her. See Bais Yaakov journal 125 (1935), 6, and in Hebrew translation Em be-Yisrael, vol. 3, 49-50. According to Schenirer, many parents did not understand the importance of the Bais Yaakov education or were satisfied with sending their daughters to the school for one year, just enough for them to learn to pray and write in Yiddish. Even then, girls were occasionally late or missed school with all kinds of excuses. Other parents thought it was too difficult to attend two schools. See Sarah Schenirer, Tsu vos darf men Bais Yaakov shulen? Populare agitatsye-broshur far’n Bais-Yaakov-gedank )’Why Does One Need Bais Yaakov Schools? A Popular Agitation Brochure for the Bais Yaakov idea’), Warsaw 1933, 25-31. The brochure includes a proclamation by Agudath ha-Rabbanim signed by many rabbis (among them Ḥayim Ozer Grodzinski, Zalman Sorotzkin, and Aharon Walkin) calling parents not to send their daughters to Jewish secular schools, which were “akin to Molekh” (e.g., the Tarbut schools), but rather to Bais Yaakov. Clearly, such an endorsement was needed not to support Schenirer herself, but rather to convince parents of the importance of sending their daughters to Bais Yaakov. It should be noted that annual statistics of Bais Yaakov students do not take into account the number of years they attended the school.
[36] See Manekin, “Torah Education for Girls.” The memorial issue of the Bais Yaakov journal published after Schenirer’s death which includes about three dozen articles about her written by different personalities and students, praised her dedication, idealism, enthusiasm, piety, warmth, charity, modesty, and teaching yidishkeit rather than her learning or teaching Torah, something that was not even mentioned. One of the articles emphasized her simplicity (פשטות), explaining that “when she decided to devote her efforts to the education of girls, she did not make herself important as dealing with the problems of the education of daughters, did not aggrandize her mission, did not try to win personalities for her plan; in general, she avoided any advertisement or propaganda noise, but rather simply sat down to learn yidishkeit with children with seriousness and honesty, so her path did not only not arouse opposition (because of the fear of teaching girls Torah etc.), but on the contrary, it only aroused great satisfaction and approval of all circles.” See A. Y. Lipmanovitch, “Der Koyech fun Pashtus” (the power of simplicity), Bais Yaakov 125 (Iyar/Sivan 1935), 18.