Two Books by R. Bezalel Naor, R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk, Michael Lerner, and More

by Marc B. Shapiro

1. R. Bezalel Naor is well known for his enormous contributions to what we can call “Rav Kook Studies”. His outstanding translations and analysis have cemented his reputation as one of the leading interpreters of Rav Kook, as well as the most prolific writer on Rav Kook in English. I personally owe a great debt to Naor, as can seen in my forthcoming book on Rav Kook (though I suspect he will reject some of my readings).

Yet many are unaware of Naor’s numerous writings that are not focused on Rav Kook and that go back decades. (Unfortunately, they are not all available on Otzar Hachochma.) In fact, my first exposure to Naor was as a graduate student when I came across his 1984 edition and commentary on Rabad’s hasagot to Mishneh Torah, Sefer Ha-Madda and Sefer Ahavah. As with all of Naor’s writings, he discusses a variety of matters that arise from the text he is commenting on. (In Naor’s Ma’amar al Yishmael, he published the letter sent to him by Prof. Isadore Twersky upon receiving Naor’s edition of Rabad’s hasagot.)

In this post, I would like to focus on two books from Naor that deal with Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah. The first is Shod Melakhim,[1] published in 2018, and the second is Ya’akov mi-le-Var Moshe mi-le-Gav,[2] published in 2024. These and other books written by Naor can be purchased here.

Shod Melakhim contains studies of Naor on aspects of the Mishneh Torah, such as the mitzvah of knowing God, Maimonides and Sefer Yetzirah (including Naor’s suggestion that a halakhah in the Mishneh Torah was influenced by Sefer Yetzirah[3]), and analysis of R. Hayyim Soloveitchik’s commentary on various halakhot of the Mishneh Torah. He also brings into his discussions works by R. Abraham Abulafia, R. Isaac Arama, R. Moses Hayyim Luzzatto, Solomon Maimon (including a work still in manuscript), Rav Kook, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, and so many others. The book also contains a piece by the late R. Joshua Hoffman, reworked by Naor, together with a short memorial to this scholar who unfortunately was taken too soon from us.

Shod Melakhim is so rich, and its learning so profound, that it would require a very lengthy review, if not an actual book, to satisfactorily treat all the important issues Naor raises. In the interests of space, let me offer a few points that came to mind as I went through the book.

Pp. 50ff. Naor cites examples where earlier authorities mention that Maimonides derives halakhot from the Torah,[4] and he notes the dispute about whether medieval Ashkenazic sages independently came up with derashot to derive halakhot. In a recent issue of Ha-Ma’yan, R. Yisrael Reisher published an interesting article in which he discusses when and why post-talmudic sages stopped using independent derashot to derive halakhot.[5] Let me give an example of what I originally thought was a derashah by R. David Abudarham. He lived in the fourteenth century, so it would be significant if someone this late was still independently coming up with derashot. Last summer I brought a group to Spain on my Torah in Motion tour, and one of the places we visited was Seville.[6] That gave me the opportunity to speak about Abudarham as he too was from Seville.

Abudarham, Seder Tefilot ha-Ta’aniyot, says that if the fast of the Tenth of Tevet falls out on Shabbat, that we fast. Now it is true that according to our calendar this can never happen, but if we were proclaiming the new moon with witnesses it could fall out on Shabbat, and Abudarham says that we would fast, something we do not do even with Tisha be-Av. In fact, there are times, like this year, when the Tenth of Tevet falls out on Friday. (With our calendar, Tisha be-Av cannot fall out on Friday.[7]) When we fast on Friday-Tenth of Tevet, the fast is only over at darkness on Friday night. In other words, the fast continues into Shabbat.

R. Meir Mazuz explains Abudarham’s position that we fast when the Tenth of Tevet falls out on Shabbat by saying that he derived it from a derashah.[8] Here is the passage from Abudarham:

ואפילו[9] היה חל בשבת לא היו יכולים לדחותו ליום אחר, מפני שנאמר בו (יחזקאל כד, ב) בעצם היום הזה, כמו ביום הכפורים

Regarding the Tenth of Tevet, Ezekiel 24:1-2 states: “And the word of the Lord came unto me in the ninth year, in the tenth month, in the tenth day of the month, saying: ‘Son of man, write thee the name of the day, even of this selfsame day; this selfsame (בעצם) day the king of Babylon hath invested Jerusalem.” When the Torah speaks of Yom Kippur in Lev. 23:28 it also uses the expression בעצם היום הזה. R. Mazuz thinks that Abudarham made his own derashah, that just as these words are used regarding Yom Kippur and we fast on Shabbat Yom Kippur, so too the same applies to the Tenth of Tevet. However, if you look at the new, heavily annotated, 2015 Kerem Re’em edition of Abudarham, vol. 2, p. 357, you find that there were others before Abudarham who had the same position. Thus, I think it is obvious that rather than coming up with his own derashah, from which the halakhah was derived, Abudarham is simply trying to offer an ex-post facto explanation for the practice of fasting on the Tenth of Tevet that falls on Shabbat. He presumably saw this as a long-standing tradition and was offering a possible explanation for why earlier generations, including perhaps the talmudic sages, adopted this viewpoint.

P. 73 n. 95. Naor points to two views of Nahmanides in his commentary on the Torah that Naor identifies as having their origin in Ibn Ezra. In the second example, dealing with how Jacob married two sisters and Amram married his aunt, Nahmanides does not mention Ibn Ezra, and in the first example, although he cites Ibn Ezra, one could equally well argue that the citation does not mean that this is his source, but rather an opinion he cites that agrees with him. In general, I would like Naor to elaborate on how one is to know in cases like this that we are dealing with real influence from one thinker on another. (See also pp. 97ff. where he identifies clearer evidence of geonic influence on Maimonides.)

P. 125 note, p. 129 note, Naor refers to R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk’s Torah commentary asמש”ך חכמה. Yet this is a mistake. The first word does not have a double apostrophe and is simply written asמשך, as seen on the title page of the first edition of the work. The title is derived from Job 28:18: “the price of wisdom”, and the letters of the word משך obviously allude to the name Meir Simhah. Incidentally, R. Meir Simhah is known both as the “Meshekh Hokhmah” and the “Or Sameah”. Other than R. Israel Meir ha-Kohen, who is known as the “Mishnah Berurah” and the “Hafetz Hayyim”, are there any others who are also known by two separate book titles?

Pp. 129ff. Naor probes how the king has the power to kill people even if there is no halakhic testimony or they have not been warned. He refers to Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Rotzeah u-Shmirat ha-Nefesh 2:4:

When a Jewish king desires to slay any of these murderers and the like – who are not liable for execution by the court – by virtue of his regal authority, in order to perfect society, he has the license. Similarly, if the court desires to execute them as a hora’at sha’ah, because this was required at the time, they have the license to do as they see fit.

We see from this that in order to improve society the king is not bound by normal halakhic restrictions when it comes to punishing evildoers. Naor also refers to Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim 3:10, which has the same message:

A murderer against whom the evidence is not totally conclusive, or who was not warned before he slew his victim, or even one who was observed by only one witness, and similarly, an enemy who inadvertently killed one of his foes – the king is granted license to execute them and to improve society according to the needs of the time. He may execute many on one day, hang them, and leave them hanging for many days in order to cast fear into the hearts and destroy the power of the wicked of the earth.

Finally, Naor refers to Guide of the Perplexed 3:40, where Maimonides writes: “Even if a court does not execute him [the murderer], the ruler can, since he can execute on circumstantial evidence.”[10]

Following this, Naor cites R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk who compares the Law of the King with Noahide laws, as both of them have the same goal, namely, establishing a functioning society. As such, when it comes to judicial matters, the Law of the King is equal to that of the power given to non-Jewish courts. Since non-Jewish courts can kill a criminal based on a single witness, so too the king can do so.

Naor then expands on this and makes a fascinating suggestion, that the law of ben sorer u-moreh is an example of an emergency measure where the beit din functions by using the Noahide laws. As with Noahide law, the ben sorer u-moreh does not need to be warned about his action. Naor connects this to Yerushalmi Peah 1:1 that with non-Jews: מחשבה רעה הקב”ה מצרפה למעשה. This would explain why a ben sorer u-moreh is punished for something that will happen in the future, as punishment in the Noahide code can be decreed even for just having an intention.

Pp. 157ff. Naor deals with this passage of Maimonides in the Guide 3:45:

He [Abraham] specified due west as the direction to face in prayer, the Holy of Holies lying to the west. That is what the Sages mean by saying, “God’s Shekhinah is to the west” [Bava Batra 25a]. They explain in tractate Yoma that in prayer, we face the Holy of Holies, the direction that Father Abraham[11] set.

The problem is where in Yoma do we find that Abraham set the direction of prayer? This is an old problem and Naor offers a new solution which strikes me as far-fetched, and he himself refers to it as a חידוש נורא. He suggests that Maimonides is referring to Yoma 28b which in our text states: קיים אברהם אבינו אפילו עירובי תבשילין. Naor suggests that Maimonides’ text had עירוב תפילה (or maybe the abbreviation ע”ת) instead of עירובי תבשלין, and elaborates on how that could be understood to mean “west”. Even with all of Naor’s great learning, his solution is still not satisfying to me.

Let me now turn to Ya’akov mi-le-Var. The first part of it contains newly published comments on Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah by the 17^th-18^th century Jerusalem sage, R. Jacob Molho. Naor adds his own explanations and elaborations to these comments. The second part of the book is Naor’s Torah insights on a range of matters with his typical originality and breadth.

Pp. 69ff., Naor discusses R. Nissim of Gerona’s famous idea of Torah law and Law of the King. R. Nissim acknowledges that other systems of law work more efficiently in society than certain aspects of Torah law (e.g., how difficult it is to convict criminals according to Torah law). R. Nissim does not see this as a problem as the king will legislate in these areas. For R. Nissim, this is not an ad hoc approach to make the system run smoothly, but this is part of the Torah system given at Sinai, that there is both Torah law and also the Law of the King that work in tandem. Naor suggests that R. Nissim might have been influenced by Nahmanides’ famous notion of a scoundrel with the permission of the Torah, which is how he interprets the verse Kedoshim Tihyu (Lev. 19:1). Just like there is an individual who can be a scoundrel and the general laws of the Torah do not protect against him, thus we need a special law of Kedoshim Tihyu, so too when the written laws of the Torah do not suffice, according to R. Nissim we need the Law of the King.

Naor goes even further and connects R. Nissim’s idea with R. Mordechai Joseph Leiner of Izhbitz[12] and other Polish hasidic figures who have a conception not of Torah law and Law of the King, but of the law of God and the will of God, which are not always in tandem. In this section, Naor shows his great learning in hasidic literature.

P. 141. Naor cites R. Jacob Emden in his note toNiddah22b that not everyone assumes that one needs to receive a gezerah shavah by tradition, meaning that one can create his own gezerah shavah. Naor notes that this is a שיטה יחידאה. Does the notion that one need to receive a gezerah shavah by tradition mean that it must go back to the beit din ha-gadol, as Naor quotes one source as saying? I think not, and to give one example, R. Gedaliah Nadel writes that it is enough for a gezerah shavah to have come to us by tradition, and if previous generations of great scholars, who understood the nuances of Hebrew, accepted a gezerah shavah, we can rely on them.[13] In terms of scholarly studies on the gezerah shavah, to the sources cited by Naor I would also add Michael Chernick, Midat “Gezerah Shaṿah”: Tzuroteha ba-Midrashim u-va-Talmudim (Lod, 1994) and Yitzhak Gilat, Perakim be-Hishtalshelut ha-Halakhah (Ramat Gan, 1992), pp. 365ff.

2. As I mentioned R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk earlier in this post, let me add a few more points relevant to him.

I find it of interest that in 1925 R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg stated that R. Meir Simhah was “truly the gadol ha-dor”.[14]

As to why the kiruv yeshiva was named Or Somayach,[15] Yonoson Rosenbloom writes:

The immediate impetus for the change in name was a powerful shmuess given in the beis midrash by Rabbi Shlomo Freifeld. Rabbi Freifeld quoted the hesped given for Rabbi Meir Simcha by the Rogachover Gaon, his contemporary Torah giant in Dvinsk. The Rogatchover said of Rav Meir Simcha that he learned with the intensity of one who felt flames raging all around and that only his learning could extinguish them.[16]

In 1919 there was a false report that R. Meir Simhah had been murdered in a pogrom. This event was covered by newspapers around the world.[17] Here is a poster that was hung up after the false information arrived in Eretz Yisrael. (The information that appears at the bottom indicating that this poster is from 1926 is incorrect. 1926 was the year of his actual death.)[18]

In response to the false report, there were a number of eulogies given. R. Yisrael Abba Citron, rav of Petah Tikvah, delivered a hesped which was later published.[19]

Are there any other examples of giving a hesped for a great rabbi who was not actually dead?

Speaking of the death of R. Meir Simhah, we are fortunate that he was not killed on another occasion. Yoel Hirsch called my attention to something that is not mentioned in all the discussions of R. Meir Simhah. As is well known, R. Meir Simhah only had one daughter, and she was mentally ill. According to R. Israel Dusowitz in Ha-Mesilah 1:5-6 (Sivan-Tamuz 5696), p. 6, R. Meir Simhah’s daughter tried to kill her father, stabbing him in the neck. Miraculously, he survived.

3. Earlier in this post I mentioned how Naor cites R. Meir Simhah’s notion that a king can execute certain people even though this would not be permitted under Torah law, since his power functions in accord with Noahide law which has a much wider range of possibility to punish than Torah law. R. Meir Simhah was referring to executing people based on lesser standards of evidence, not killing innocent people. Yet I would like to make a few comments about the latter point, as it is precisely with regard to the power of a king to kill innocent people that we see a change in how the generations have regarded certain moral issues.

Contemporary moral judgments are sometimes far removed from those of previous generations, even when dealing with great sages. For instance, R. Levi Ben Gershom recommends that if you are holding a prisoner who has been a constant enemy of the Jewish people, he should be executed.[20] R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes claims that a king has the right to kill the innocent children of someone who rebels, because of tikun olam,[21] and the Hatam Sofer, in a letter to Chajes, find this a reasonable position.[22] The purpose of this killing would be to put fear into others, who while they may be willing to risk their own lives in rebellion, would be deterred if their children were to be wiped out. This is certainly not what pretty much anyone today would regard as “Jewish values.” But I find it fascinating that in previous years, among some great Torah scholars, this was regarded as acceptable, even if only in a theoretical discussion. Naor, p. 136, provides additional sources for this matter, and I would add that R. Kook was also inclined to think that in extreme circumstances it would be permissible to execute innocent people such as children of an evil doer.[23] Let me stress again that all the discussions mentioned in this paragraph were theoretical, no different than so many other theoretical discussions found in rabbinic literature, and I wonder if they could have ever decided this way in a real-life case.

Regarding the power of the king, R. Jacob Kamenetsky has an unusual passage in his Emet le-Yaakov, 1 Kings 3:28. He says that in the story of Solomon and the two harlots, where Solomon said to cut the baby in half, if the real mother had not spoken up, they would have actually cut the baby in half, as the king has the authority to order this.[24]

ונראה לומר, דהנה מה היה קורה אם האמא האמיתית היתה מסכימה שיחתכו את הולד לשנים, בבחינת “תמות נפשי עם פלשתים”. הרי בפשטות מבינים ששלמה המלך היה חוזר בו מיד ואומר, “לא התכוונתי ברצינות שיהרגו את הילד”. אבל זה אינו, כי ביד המלך סמכות מסויימת על חיי נתיניו, כמו שיכול לשלוח אותם למלחמה אף על פי שנהרגים שם, אף כאן מאחר שציוה לחתוך, כאילו שיש כאן דין של ממון המוטל בספק חולקים, היו חותכים משום כבוד המלכות, שהרי אצל מלך אין חרטה

I don’t know why R. Kamenetsky finds the common understanding, that Solomon never really intended his words to be implemented in practice, to be mistaken. Certainly, killing an innocent child does not bring any honor to the king. Even if R. Kamenetsky is correct with regard to Solomon, speaking from our 21st-century perspective, the Jewish people, with their current moral sense, would never accept something like this, and I feel confident that a future Sanhedrin would never countenance it.

It must also be noted that Sforno, Netziv, and Meshekh Hokhmah, in their commentaries to Deut. 24:16 (“Children shall not be put to death for the fathers”), specifically reject the possibility that the king could kill the children of one who rebels, with Sforno noting how this was a typical Gentile practice that the Torah is legislating against.[25] In areas of controversy such as this, I think we should follow the guidance of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg who believed that if there is a dispute among halakhic authorities, the poskim must reject the view that will bring the Torah into disrepute in people’s eyes:[26]

ואגלה להדר”ג [הגרא”י אונטרמן] מה שבלבי: שמקום שיש מחלוקת הראשונים צריכים הרבנים להכריע נגד אותה הדעה, שהיא רחוקה מדעת הבריות וגורמת לזלזול וללעג נגד תוה”ק

R. Shlomo Aviner has the same approach. He notes that conceptions of morality change over time and not every decision of a posek is an eternal decision. Today, when we have different standards of morality than in previous years, if there is a dispute among the authorities, we should adopt the position that we regard as more moral.[27]

וברור שבהלכה פנים לכאן ולכאן. לכן כיוון שנתיבים אלה הם נתיבים מוסריים יותר, עלינו להכריע על פיהם. לפעמים ההלכה מוכרעת, בגלל שעת הדחק, ולפעמים ההלכה מוכרעת כי כך המנהג. אם כן, בימינו ‘המנהג’ הוא להיות מוסרי . . . יש גם מושגים מוסריים המשתנים על פי המציאות. אב הסוטר לבנו הקטן, אינו דומה לאב הסוטר לבנו בן השמונה עשרה. האם סטירת לחי לבנו היא מעשה מוסרי או לא מוסרי? תלוי בנסיבות. לא כל הכרעות הפוסקים הן הכרעות נצחיות . . . במצבנו כיום ישנם שיקולים מוסריים שמצטרפים להכרעותינו ההלכתיות

R. Yuval Sherlo acknowledges moral advancement and concludes: “Despite all the hypocrisy and cynicism there is moral progress in the area of human rights. True religious people believe that this is the will of God.”[28]

3. Michael Lerner recently passed away. I mention this because I recently found a letter from Lerner’s mother, Bea Lerner, who served as chairwoman of the New Jersey Democratic Party.[29] The letter is undated, but was obviously written in 1970 at the time that Lerner was on trial as part of the “Seattle Seven”, charged with having incited a riot. I found the letter in the Heschel archives[30] which I assume means that Mrs. Lerner had sent it to Heschel—who knew Michael Lerner from the Jewish Theological Seminary—and others as part of a request that they submit letters to the court testifying to Lerner’s non-violent nature. I had intended to send the letter to Lerner, but alas, this was not to be. I think the letter, which will be valuable to Lerner’s future biographer, is a wonderful example of parents’ unconditional love for their son, even if he chooses a path that they do not understand or agree with.

Since I just mentioned Heschel, and in honor of Rabbi Dr. Yechiel Leiter, Scranton native and new ambassador from Israel to the United States, let me also include this letter from Leiter’s grandfather, R. Moshe Leiter, to Heschel.[31]

R. Moshe Leiter authored a number of seforim, and in the letter above he is offering condolences about the passing of Heschel’s brother in London, R. Jacob Heshel. Interestingly enough, he is not entirely sure if people had informed Heschel of his brother’s passing, and we know that in the past people did withhold such news. R. Jacob Heshel was the rabbi of the Edgeware Adath Yisroel Congregation, and this is a picture of him with his family that I found here.

4. In my post here I presented some liberal views of euthanasia, views that for some reason are not part of the discourse in Orthodox circles. I forgot to include the following letter from R. Joseph Elijah Henkin which is found in the memorial volume Ner Shaul, p. 502.

See nos. 2, 3, 5, 8. While R. Henkin does not offer any firm rulings, you can see that he does not reject the liberal perspective and might even be inclined to it. No. 4 is also fascinating, for if we accept his suggestion it would mean that even if we assume that brain death is not halakhic death, it would still be permitted to remove a heart from a brain-dead person to save another’s life (as it appears reasonable to assume that a brain-dead person is a goses).

5. In my last post here I raised the question of whether Neturei Karta allies of Hamas can be counted in a minyan, whether their businesses should be boycotted, etc. Someone commented to me that however evil their actions, the Neturei Karta are still Jewish and Torah observant and thus they need to be treated as part of kelal Yisrael. This is a specious argument. Even a cursory familiarity with Jewish history shows that by means of the herem religiously observant people were removed from the community for all sorts of reasons. Because the herem was so successful, these removals only needed to be temporary as the excommunicated people inevitably felt compelled to ask the community leaders for forgiveness.

Yet I want to focus on the point that the Neturei Karta are still Jewish with the implication that since this is their birthright, it cannot be removed from them. (Despite what some people have claimed, from everything I have seen they are indeed halakhically observant and have not violated Shabbat by speaking on microphones, carrying signs where there is no eruv, etc.)

R. Moses Sofer, in his comment to Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim no. 39, has a fascinating idea that has been discussed by many.

ועיין בתוספות יום טוב משנה ד’ פרק ז’ דנדה דתמה על כותים אי גירי אמת הן איך עשאום כנכרים לטהר נדות ואהלות שלהם. ונראה לפענ”ד שיש כח בכלל ישראל להוציא המורדים מכלל האומה ויחזרו לגוים גמורים אף להקל . . . והם נמנו וגמרו להוציאם מברית ישראל לגמרי

According to the Hatam Sofer, “Kelal Yisrael”, which I assume is represented by the rabbinic leaders, has the ability to remove someone from the Jewish people and turn him into a complete non-Jew. This would mean that you can lend money to him on interest, if he marries a woman it does not take effect, and even if he is already married the woman would not need a get. So we can leave it to the gedolim if they wish to go this route with the Neturei Karta.

As mentioned, the Hatam Sofer’s novel position—R. Asher Weiss[32] terms it a חידוש עצום—is discussed by many. However, while everyone tries to understand the basis of the Hatam Sofer’s view and its implications, there is one exception, namely, R. Moshe Feinstein.[33] R. Feinstein comes at the matter from a completely different perspective. Finding the Hatam Sofer’s words incomprehensible, he writes:

וברור ופשוט שא”א דבר כזה בעולם . . . וברור שאין זה מדברי החת”ס

R. Feinstein denies that the Hatam Sofer could have written what is found in his commentary. In a number of previous posts I have discussed this tendency of R. Feinstein to reject the authenticity of texts that he sees as completely mistaken. At certain times I think R. Feinstein really means what he says, that the text is not authentic. Yet on other occasions, and the example of the Hatam Sofer’s commentary would be such a case, I agree with R. Betzalel Deblitsky[34] that when R. Feinstein said that the text is not authentic, he did not mean it literally. Rather, this was his way of respectfully registering his strong disagreement. R. Deblitsky compares this to the rabbinic expressionכי ניים ושכיב אמרה, “When he was sleepy and lying down [to rest] he said this halakhah.” Everyone knows that this is just a figure of speech, and it would make no sense for one to reply that on the contrary, when the rabbi issued the ruling he had just finished his coffee and was completely sharp. In fact, R. Samuel Ibn Tibbon even uses this expression about the man he idolized most, Maimonides.[35]

6. My forthcoming book on Rav Kook is now available for purchase on Amazon (although it won’t appear for another couple of months). Once the book reaches America, I will be doing an event at Mizrahi Book Store so stay tuned for that.

* * * * * * * * *

[1] The title is taken from Isaiah 60:16.
[2] For the meaning of this kabbalistic expression, see Yosef Kalner, Milon ha-Re’iyah, vol. 2, p. 199.
[3] See also p. 21 n. 22 where Naor mentions his discussion in this regard with Prof. Abraham Joshua Heschel.
[4] In Kol Torah, Av-Elul 5728, p. 20, R. Nahum Drazin mentions what he heard from R. Moshe Soloveitchik, how R. Hayyim explained a position of Maimonides as arising directly from the verses in the Torah. As this appears to be completely unknown, here is the page.

[5] “Al Perek ‘Ein Dorshin’”, Ha-Ma’yan, Nisan 5784, pp. 93-104. Regarding derashot to establish, or at least support, minhagim, see e.g., Tur, Orah Hayyim 493, regarding women not working after sunset during the period of the Omer:

ונהגו הנשים שלא לעשות מלאכה משתשקע החמה . . . וכתיב שבע שבתות תמימות תהיינה, מלשון שבות ולשון שמיטה שבע שבתות . . . מה שנת השמיטה אסור במלאכה אף זמן ספירת העומר דהיינו לאחר שקיעת החמה אסור במלאכה

R. Eliyahu Zini, Etz Erez, vol. 2, p. 224,  is troubled by this derashah:

ויש לשאול: ממתי רבותינו הראשונים דורשים פסוקי תורה להוציא מהן הלכות, יהיו אלה אפילו מנהגים בלבד

[6] For my 2025 summer Torah in Motion tours, see here.
[7] Mishnah, Ta’anit 4:7 deals with a case where Tisha be-Av falls out on Friday.
[8] Bayit Ne’eman, 16 Tevet 5777, p. 1.
[9] The word אפילו is supposed to be recited with the accent on the final syllable. But does anyone, even Sephardim, pronounce it this way?
[10] The English is taken from the brand-new translation of the Guide by Lenn E. Goodman and Phillip I. Lieberman. This work is a wonderful achievement. It should give Goodman and Lieberman great pride to know that, from this point on, anyone who studies Maimonides will have to turn to their translation, which by the way also contains valuable notes. As a companion volume to the translation of the Guide, Goodman has also just published A Guide to the Guide to the Perplexed.
[11] The translation is from the Goodman and Lieberman edition. Pines has “Abraham our Father” which I think people will be more comfortable with, as “Father Abraham” sounds Catholic.
[12] Again, I do not know why Naor records the name of R. Leiner’s book as מ”י השילוח. The title is מי השלוח without any apostrophes.
[13] Mi-Torato shel R. Gedalyah, p. 25. Regarding gezerah shavah, see the brand new book by Moshe Sokolow, Pursuing Peshat: Takakh, Parshanut, and Talmud Torah, pp. 85-86, where he calls attention to R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk, Meshekh Hokhmah, Num. 30:10, where he creates his own gezerah shavah. In justification of this step, R. Meir Simhah cites the Jerusalem Talmud, Pesahim 6:1: “A man may initiate his own gezerah shavah in order to sustain his study.” R. Yehudah Copperman, in his edition of the Meshekh Hokhmah, notes the originality of R. Meir Simhah in this example:

הפירוש המקובל לאמרה זו (וכך אמנם משתמע מסוגית הירושלמי) היא לפי בעל קרבן העדה: לקיים תלמודו שקיבל מרבו, דאין הפסד בדבר, שהרי בלאו הכי הדין כן, ואין גזירה שוה זו אלא לסמוך בעלמא (עכ”ל). לעומת זאת מושך רבינו את הכלל אף להלכה שלא קיבל מרבו אלא שחידש הוא בבית מדרשו! ועיין בהרחבה בפרקי מבוא פרק יד, כי זה חידוש גדול בבית מדרשו

[14] Kitvei ha-Gaon Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, vol. 2, p. 235.
[15] Regarding the word שמח, I transliterated Sameah, but the official name of the yeshiva is Ohr Somayach. So which pronunciation is correct? It turns out that both are correct, as some grammarians claim that before the furtive patah in שמח there is an aleph sound, and others think that there is a yod sound. The same thing would be with the word ריח, which can be pronounced either as רֵיאַח or רֵייַח, or the word פענח which can be pronounced פענֵאַח or פענֵיַח. See R. Benzion Cohen, Sefat Emet, pp. 59-60; R. Adir Amrutzi, Dikdukei Abiah, p. 19.
[16] Rosenbloom, Rav Noach Weinberg: Torah Revolutionary (Jerusalem, 2020), p. 72 n. 1.
[17] See details here.
[18] The poster is taken from here.
[19] See Zev Aryeh Rabiner, Maran Rabbenu Meir Simhah Kohen (Tel Aviv, 1967), pp. 232-233. For another published eulogy, by R. Ben Zion Cuenca, see Mekabtze’el 39 (2013), pp. 739ff.
[20] Commentary to 1 Kings, ch. 22, Toelet 34.
[21] Torat ha-Nevi’im, ch. 7.
[22] She’elot u-Teshuvot Hatam Sofer, Orah Hayyim no. 108 (end).
[23] See Da’at Kohen, no. 193.
[24] Regarding the Solomon story, a real-life version of this is reported to have occurred in the early twentieth century. A woman who was nursing the baby boy of the rabbi mistakenly slept on the boy, killing him. Fearful of what would happen, she gave her own son to the rabbi’s wife, and this boy was then raised as the child of the rabbi. The matter was only discovered years later. When the woman’s husband died, the dead husband appeared a number of times in the rabbi’s son’s dreams asking why he was not saying kaddish for him. Here is R. Eliezer Deutsch’s description of the case in Va-Yelaket Yosef, vol. 10:20 (1908), no. 194.

The story is also told in R. Zvi Hirsch Friedling, Hayyim ha-Nitzhiyim, p. 54, as an illustration of the importance of kaddish.
[25] See Encyclopedia Talmudit, vol. 33, s.v. לא יומתו אבות על בנים, col. 947; R. Shimon Krasner, “Ishiyuto u-Feulotav shel Shaul ha-Melekh,” Yeshurun 11 (2002), pp. 779-780.
[26] Kitvei ha-Gaon Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, vol. 1, p. 60.
[27] Am ve-Artzo, vol. 2, pp. 436-437.
[28] Reshut ha-Rabim, p. 102.
[29] See David Horowitz, Radical Son (New York, 1997), p. 175.
[30] Heschel Archives, Duke University, Box 8, Folder 1.
[31] Heschel Archives, Duke University, Box 17, Correspondence 1970-1971.
[32] See R. Asher Weiss’ weekly shiur, Toldot 5785, p. 11, called to my attention by Baruch from Monsey.
[33] Iggerot Moshe, vol. 9, p. 162 (Yoreh Deah 5:41)
[34] Beit Aharon ve-Yisrael 122 (Kislev-Tevet 5766), p. 170.
[35] See Carlos Frankel, Min ha-Rambam li-Shmuel Ibn Tibbon (Jerusalem, 2008), p. 300:

כי ניים ושכיב רבינו ז”ל אמר זה הדבר

Torah Under Wraps

by Yoav Sorek

translated by Daniel Tabak

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Scholar is Born

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead of Polemic, Shock

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Professor in All But Name

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

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

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

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

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

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

Between Seclusion and Entrenchment

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

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

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

—————————

A DUAL DESTINY

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Translator’s Notes:

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

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

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

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

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

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

[3] Cf. Prov 11:2.

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

[5] cf. Shabbat 31a.

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

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

Tarnopol: A short-lived early 19^th century Hebrew press
by Marvin J. Heller[1]

The blossoms have appeared in the land, The time of your song has arrived,
and the voice of the turtledove Is heard in our land.
The green figs form on the fig tree. The vines in blossom give off fragrance.
Arise, my darling; My fair one, come away!
“O my dove, in the cranny of the rocks. Hidden by the cliff.
Let me see your face, Let me hear your voice; For your voice is sweet And your face is comely.”
Catch us the foxes, The little foxes
That ruin the vineyards— For our vineyard is in blossom. (Song of Songs 2:12-15).

Tarnopol (Ternopol), a city with an established Jewish community, dates its founding to the mid-sixteenth century. The community had many positive aspects (blossoms have appeared in the land, The time of your song has arrived), and was home to a Hebrew printing press (The green figs form on the fig tree. The vines in blossom give off fragrance) for a brief time only in the early nineteenth century. Due, however, to the contentious relationship between conflicting segments of the community, that press, after publishing a variety of valuable works, was short lived and closed prematurely (The little foxes that ruin the vineyards).

Tarnopol is in Galicia, in the western Ukraine, approximately 227 miles (365 km.) from Kiev (Kyiv) and 73 miles (117 km,) from Lvov. Although there had been earlier residences in the area, credit for founding the city as a private town in 1540 is given to the Polish hetman, Jan Amor Tarnowski. Tarnowski permitted Jewish settlement almost immediately afterwards in what was his personal domain. The city charter permitted Jews to reside throughout the city, excluding the market place. Initially, the Jewish population was small, comprised of only a few dozen Jews, this based on the head tax paid, the revenues from it being, in 1564, 20 zlotys, rising to 23 the following year. Jews quickly became a majority of the population, with as many as 300 families resident there in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.[2] By 1765, the Jewish population of Tarnopol had increased to 1,246 Jews.[3]

In 1548, Tarnopol was granted the privilege of the Magdeburgian Laws, regulations concerning internal autonomy within cities and villages granted by the local ruler, developed by Otto I, Holy Roman Emperor (936–973). In 1566, Tarnopol received the Emporium Right, the duty of storing the merchandise of the merchants passing through the town, and the privilege of the residents of the town to be the first to purchase the merchandise. Tarnopol was fortified and strengthened during the Tartar invasions in 1575 and 1589. In 1621, it became the property of Chancellor Tomash Zamoiski.[4]

A fire in 1623 caused significant damage to the homes in the city, but Zamoiski allowed the Jews to rebuild their homes as well as a new synagogue, this constructed in citadel style, to replace the one destroyed in the fire. Jews could buy and sell goods, excepting some leather merchandise, this to protect the monopoly of Christian shoemakers. Jews could be butchers, but had to provide the owners of the city annually with ten milk stones.

Tarnopol suffered, as did Jewish communities throughout Eastern Europe, from the Chmielnicki massacres of 1648-49 (tah ve-tat) and again in 1653 from the Tartar invasions. Until the ravages of the former occurred, the Jewish community was prosperous. At that time, however, most Jews fled, those remaining being massacred. Jews participated in the defense of the city in the Cossack and Swedish wars. The city, now the property of Alexander Konyetspolski, was reconstructed, but suffered yet again in 1672 when the town’s castles and citadels were bombarded by the Turks. Towards the end of the century the community began to revive, Jewish merchants being dominant in the grain and cattle trades.[5] In 1690, Tarnopol became the private property of the Polish royal family, Subiesky, and subsequently was transferred to the noble Polish family, Pototski, remaining in their possession until 1841 when private ownership of cities was abolished.

An early rabbi in Tarnopol was R. Gershom Nahum R. Meir ben Isaac Tarnopoler, who stated that “Our community is the capital (i.e it was important).” The rabbis active in Tarnopol in the eighteenth century included R. Joshua Heschel Babad, followed by R. Jacob Isaac ben Isaac Landau. Joshua Heschel Babad’s (Babad is an acronym of Benei Av Bet Din, “children of the av bet din,” 1754-1838) itapprobations appear in several of the titles described in this article and served as rabbi of Budzanow and, from 1801, of Tarnopol. He opposed the growing circle of maskilim in Tarnopol and polemicized against their patron, Joseph Perl (below), and, in 1813, of the teaching system in the school founded by Perl where secular studies were taught.[6]

Tarnopol suffered from an outbreak of the Black Plague in 1770, suffering many deaths. Finally, in 1772, Tarnopol was annexed to Austria and from 1809 to1815 was in the possession of the Russians, returning to Austrian rule until it became part of the Western Ukrainian Republic. Its status changed yet again at the end of 1918 when it became part of independent Poland.

In the early eighteenth century Tarnopol was largely Hassidic. Nevertheless, among the significant figures in Tarnopol was Joseph Perl, a prominent Maskil, active in that movement and an opponent of Hassidus.

A Hebrew press was established in Tarnopol in 1812. At that time Nahman Pineles and Jacob Auerbach, accomplished printers, obtained permission from the Russian authorities to establish a Hebrew press, this with the condition that the books to be printed would be approved by the censor. They acquired typographical equipment from the printer Benjamin ben Avigdor and employed two workers, Mordecai ben Zevi Hirsch and Aryeh Leib ben David. Ch. Friedberg informs that this was not an auspicious time to establish a press due to the Napoleonic wars. Nevertheless, it was established with the support of Joseph Perl, who not only provided financial assistance, but also space in his school for the press. He did so in the belief that the books published by the press would be in support of the Haskalah.[7]

The Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book records twenty-two entries, from 1812-13 through 1817.[8] These works are varied. We will describe a portion of them, several in some detail, others in passing, giving a sense of the press’ output.

I

Yeshu’ot Meshiho – Printing is reported to have begun with Don Isaac ben Judah Abrabanel’s (1437-1508) Yeshu’ot Meshiho (the Salvation of His Anointed) in 1812-13.[9] Abrabanel, a noted statesman, biblical exegete, and philosopher, traced his lineage to King David. He was the grandson of Samuel and the son of Judah Abrabanel, the former an advisor to three Kings of Castile, the latter to the King of Portugal. Don Isaac Abrabanel received a thorough Jewish education, studying Talmud under R. Joseph Hayyun (d. 1497), as well as instruction in philosophy, classics, and even Christian theology, this last useful in his defense of Judaism. Abrabanel succeeded his father as treasurer to King Alfonso V of Portugal, during which time he was instrumental in redeeming Jewish captives brought to Portugal. Upon the death of Alfonso in 1481, João II (1481-95) became king of Portugal. In 1483, João accused Abrabanel of participating in a conspiracy. Forewarned, Abrabanel fled to Spain, where he served as an official in the court of Ferdinand and Isabella. In 1492, they offered him the opportunity to remain in Spain as a Jew, but he chose to go into exile and left with other Jews.[10]

A prolific author Abrabanel wrote extensive and highly regarded commentaries on books of the Bible, philosophical works, and a three-part trilogy of consolation on resurrection and redemption. Yeshu’ot Meshiho is the third part of the trilogy. The first parts are Ma’yenei ha-Yeshu’ah (Wells of Salvation), first printed in Ferrara (1551) on the book of Daniel, followed by Mashmi’a ha-Yeshu’ah (Announcing Salvation), first edition published in Salonika (1526); the trilogy is completed with Yeshu’ot Meshiho. The text addresses redemption, the Messiah, and the end of days.[11] This is recorded as the first edition of Yeshu’ot Meshiho in bibliographies, but is extremely rare and was not seen by this writer. It is recorded as an octavo.

Rosh Amanah – Our second work by the Abrabanel, also printed in 1813, is Rosh Amanah, on the principles of faith. First published in Constantinople (1505) this edition was printed in the year “[From Lebanon, my bride, with me!] Trip [look] down from Amana’s peak תשורי מראש אמנה (573 = 1813)” (Song of Songs 4:8), a reference to the principles of faith (Emunah). It was printed in quarto format (4⁰: 30 ff.). Abrabanel completed Rosh Amanah “in Naples at the end of Marheshvan, in the year, ‘The voice of rejoicing רנה (255=November, 1494) and salvation’” (Psalms 118:15), that is, two years after the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. The verso of the title-page has an approbation from R. Joshua Heschel Babad, av bet din of Tarnopol, immediately below it is verses from Judah Abrabanel, the author’s son, and below that a statement that wherever the phrases akum or goi appears it refers to ancient idol worshippers, not to contemporary non-Jews who are upright people.

1813, Rosh Amanah

Next is Abrabanel’s introduction, in which he explains that his purpose in writing the book is twofold, to clarify the confusion resulting from the many lists on the principles of faith and to defend Maimonides from his critics, most importantly R. Hasdai Crescas (c. 1340–c. 1410–11, Or HaShem), and Joseph Albo (15^th century, Ikkarim). Stylistically, Rosh Amanah follows the same format as Abrabanel’s other works, that is, he poses a series of questions which he then resolves.

There are twenty-four chapters. In the first twenty-two Abrabanel enumerates twenty-eight objections to Maimonides thirteen principles of faith, twenty taken from Crescas and Albo. Abrabanel subsequently resolves these objections, defending Maimonides from his critics, although he too, in chapter twenty-three, rejects Maimonides’ formulation of a dogma for Judaism. Rosh Amanah begins with a discussion of the thirteen principles, followed (ch. 2-5) with Crescas and Albo’s objections; then nine necessary propositions for the ensuing discussion (6-11); the refutation of the objections (12-21); criticism of Crescas’ and Albo’s formulation (22); Abrabanel’s contention that Judaism has no dogmas (23); and lastly, a discussion of the Mishnah in Sanhedrin (90a), “All Israel has a share in the world to come,” which might seem to posit a dogma for Judaism.[12]

Despite Abrabanel’s contention that Judaism has no dogmas he writes (ch 22) that if he were to, “choose principles to posit for the divine Torah I would lay down one only, the creation of the world. It is the root and foundation . . . and includes the creation at the beginning, the narratives about the Patriarchs, and the miracles and wonders which cannot be believed without belief in creation.”

Rosh Amanah has been published at least nine times to the present, excluding a questionable 1547 Sabbioneta edition, and translated into Latin by Guilielmum Vorstium (Liber de capite fidei, Amsterdam, 1638 and 1684), French by B. Mossé (Le princips de la foi, Avignon, 1884), and English twice, that is, the first five chapters by Isaac Mayer Wise (The Book on the Cardinal Points of Religion), serialized in The Israelite (Cincinnati, 1862), and more recently in its entirety as by M. Kellner (Principles of Faith, Rutherford, 1982).

Hamishah Homshei Torah – Among the other works published at this time were a Hamishah Homshei Torah, that is, a small rabbinic Bible (Mikra’ot Gedolot) with commentaries. Four volumes were published in 1813 and one volume, Bamidbar (Numbers) was published in 1814. The text of Hamishah Homshei Torah, on facing pages, is comprised of the biblical text in square vocalized letters on the right page, and below it in rabbinic letters, R. Aaron of Pesaro’s (d. 1563) Toledot Aharon, a concordance, brief citations to the places where each word or phrase in the Biblical text appear; the commentaries of Rashi; and Siftei Ḥakhamim (R. Shabbetai ben Joseph Bass, 1641-1718), a super-commentary on Rashi. On the facing page is Onkelos in square vocalized letters, the Ba’al ha-Turim (R. Jacob ben Asher, c. 1270-1340) and the continuation of Rashi and Siftei Ḥakhamim, all in rabbinic letters.

Likkuttei Shoshanah – Another very different work, published in 1813/14 is R. Samson Ostropoler of Polonnoye’s (Volhynia, (d. 1648) Likkuttei Shoshanah. Ostropoler, a kabbalist of repute, died on July 22, 1648, at the head of his community in the Chmielnicki massacres. At that time, Ostropoler assembled 300 members of his community into the synagogue and, dressed in shrouds and prayer-shawls, said selihot and prayers until they were slaughtered. R. Nathan Hannover, in Yeven Metsulah on the Chmielnicki massacres, informs that a magid (heavenly teacher) who frequently instructed Ostropoler in the secrets of the Kabbalah, warned him of the impending catastrophe, advising Ostropoler to call the community to repent, which he did but to no avail.[13] Likkuttei Shoshanah, a kabbalistic work, was published in a small format, 20 cm. (8 ff.).

II

Pa’ne’ah Raza – R. Isaac ben Judah ha-Levi’s commentary on the Torah, Pa’ne’ah Raza, built upon literal interpretations (peshaṭ) intermingled with gematriot and notarikon (numerical and abbreviated letters of words) is also an 1813 publication. Isaac ben Judah ha-Levi (13th cent.) was one of the Tosafot of Sens, and a student of R. Hayyim (Paltiel) of Falaise. Printed previously in Prague (1607), this edition was published as an octavo (8⁰: 142, [2] ff.).

1813, Pa’ne’ah Raza

The title-page informs that the contents include, in addition to Isaac ben Judah ha-Levi’s commentary the insights of many other rishonim (early sages) who are then noted, and that Pa’ne’ah Raza, is novellae on Hamishah Homshei Torah and Megillah in veiled ways. Among the many virtues that the title-page lists are insightful forms of elucidation, all desirable, sharp, sweet peshat (literal interpretations), queries and responses, and much more. Also included are words of the sages through gematriot, as given at Sinai with sound and flame.

The title-page is followed by R. Joshua Heschel Babad’s approbation and then Isaac ben Judah’s introduction. He begins that “I am the youth of my mother’s house and of my people, ‘a worm and a maggot’ (Avot 3”1), I know my place . . . ‘I am but dust and ashes’ (Genesis 18:27).” The title alludes to his name Pa’ne’ah פענח and Raza רזא, both have a numerical value of 208, the numerical value of his name, Isaac יצחק (208). He has included what he has heard from his teachers, among them Ran, R. [Joseph] of Orleans, R. Joseph Bekhor-Shor, and some sayings of R. Judah he-Hasid, in gematriot and peshat. He also names R. Eliezer of Worms and others, stating that he has noted the name of every contributor where possible; for he does not, heaven forbid, wish to take someone else’s adornment. Where he does not know the name, it is left unspecified.

R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai (Hida, 1724-1806), notes the wonder (miracle) and foreknowledge in the heart of the author, that Pa’ne’ah Raza, the name given so many years before, standing for Isaac twice, represents both the author and, after many centuries, the editor.[14]

Although Pa’ne’ah Raza is noted for its gematriot and notarikon much of the text is literal explanations. An example is the following, from Exodus 40:35:

“And Moses was not able to enter [into the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud abode on it]. Rashi explains, “the cloud was removed and he entered and He spoke with him.” A difficulty, how if so did He speak with him. For all the days of their encampment the cloud was over it? Furthermore, if so, Aaron and his sons could not enter, in which case, how did they burn the incense, light the menorah, and arrange the lehem ha-Panim? It is possible to say that this was one (another) cloud and during the days of their encampment they were able to enter . . . and R. Eliezer of Worms explains that for one hour the cloud was on it and afterwards removed so that they could enter.

As noted above, Pa’ne’ah Raza was first published in Amsterdam in 1607. This is the third edition, followed, according to the Bet Eked Sefarim, by two additional editions, the last being Warsaw (1928). The National Library of Israel records more recent printings, the latest being Ann Arbor, Michigan (1974) and Jerusalem (2019) editions.[15]

Torat ha-Adam – A work, undated and lacking the place of printing attributed to Tarnopol, although that is uncertain, is R. Samuel ben Shalom’s Torat ha-Adam, an ethical work with kabbalistic content. It was published in c. 1813; measures 23 cm. and comprised of 28 ff.[16] At the top of the title-page is the statement, “Happy is the man who has not forgotten you, and the son of man who finds his strength in You.” The text of the title-page states that it was written by the holy man of God. All who will look into it with open eyes will see how a person has to serve the Lord with a complete and perfect service in order to acquire true completion, for this is why man was created in this world. It further informs that the author, R. Samuel ben Shalom, is a grandson of R. Moses of Ostrog, author of Arugat ha-Bosum on the Song of Songs. The title page is followed by R. Samuel’s introduction, where he writes that he entitled the book Torat ha-Adam because it is how a person should conduct himself all the days of his life in this world. Much of the text is taken from or influenced by the Mishnat Hasidim of R. Emanuel Hai Ricci.[17]

Imrei Binyamin R. Benjamin ben Meir ha-Levi of Brody’s Imrei Binyamin, discourses on the weekly Torah readings, was printed in the year “Of Benjamin he said: Beloved of the LORD, He rests securely beside Him ולבנימין[אמר] ידיד ה“ ישכן לבטח’ (574 = 1814)” (Deuteronomy 33:12). Imrei Binyamin was published as an octavo (8⁰: [3], 92 ff.). Although the title-page describes Imrei Binyamin as being on all the weekly Torah readings the text is actually only from the beginning of Bereshit (Genesis) through be-Hukkotai (Leviticus). The title-page informs that these discourses were delivered on Shabbat by Benjamin when he was the maggid mesharim in Berdichev for seventeen years and afterwards in Brody. Imrei Binyamin was brought to press by R. Meir Eliezer ben Pinhas, the author’s grandson. He sadly begins the introduction, “I am the builder of the house of Benjamin, the father of my father.” Benjamin ben Meir had one son only, who predeceased him. In several instances, inserted between the columns of R. Benjamin’s commentary are annotations of Meir Eliezer. He hoped to publish other parts of this work but that, unfortunately, did not happen.[18]

III

Mishlei Shelomo – In 1814, the press published Menahem Mendel Lefin’s (Levin, 1749-1826) Mishlei Shelomo, a bi-lingual octavo format (8⁰: [2], 91 ff.) Hebrew-Yiddish commentary on Proverbs. Lefin, born in Satonov, Podolia, was therefore known as Satonover, and was also referred to as Mikolayev, as he also resided in Mikolayev for an extensive amount of time; spending his last years in Brody and Tarnopol. Lefin received a traditional Jewish education, studying Talmud and rabbinic codes, but early in his life, reportedly by accident, came across and was influenced by Joseph Solomon Delmedigo’s (1591–1655) Elim, dealing with mathematics and physics, motivating him to study those subjects. Lefin subsequently went to Berlin for medical treatment where he was also influence by Moses Mendelssohn (1729–1786), becoming a strong advocate of the Haskalah.

Lefin was a prolific author, his titles including a Hebrew translation of Dr. Samuel-Auguste Tissot’s popular book on medicine; and encouraged by a friendship with Prince Czartoryski, Essai d’un plan de reforme, avant pour objet déclairerhis la Nation Juive en Pologne et de la rdresser par s4es moeurs (An essay upon a Plan of Reform with the Object to Enlighten the Jewish Nation in Poland and to Improve it in Accordance with its Customs); . Lefin’s Hebrew works include Iggrot ha-Hokkmah, Refuot ha-Am, Heshbon ha-Nefesh, which, among other ethical topics, also elaborates on Benjamin Franklin’s Poor Richard’s Almanac, which R. Israel Salanter (1810-83), founder of the Mussar movement, considered an excellent handbook for moral development and had reprinted; a new translation of Maimonides’ More Nevuchim, this in Mishnaic Hebrew, and Alon More, Lefin’s only original work, this an introduction to the philosophy of Maimonides, and Mishlei Shelomo, all in “a delightful prose”.[19]

The brief text of the title-page of Mishlei Shelomo states that it includes a concise new commentary in Ashkenaz (Yiddish) for the benefit of our brothers Beit Yisrael in the lands of Poland. Below that is that it was printed with the permission of the censors. There are two approbations, the first from R. Joshua Heschel Babad, the second from R. Mordecai ben Eliezer Sender Margolious, av bet din, Satonov. Below the approbations is Lefin’s introduction, in which he notes that so Torah should not be forgotten from Israel, he has included commentators and transcribed books of the Bible into different languages. He notes that in later generations with the movements of Jews and forgetfulness, older commentaries are not always understood, particularly in the lands of Ashenaz. Therefore, he has undertaken to bring out a concise commentary for our brothers in those lands, beginning with Proverbs (Mishlei).

1814, Mishlei Shelomo

The text follows, comprised, on facing pages, of the text of Proverbs in vocalized square letters, below it Lefin’s commentary in rabbinic letters, on the recto page. On the verso is Lewin’s translation in square vocalized letters and below it the continuation of the commentary. Zinberg writes that Lefin disregarded the distinction between the spoken and written language, and that Ecclesiastes and Proverbs should not be translated “in the language that the market-Jewess speaks to her customer in the street.” Zinberg describes Lefin’s purpose in the translation, putting an end to the standard style of the translations of the Bible that had been dominant for hundreds of years and according to which the children in the schools had the Biblical text taught and translated to them. He wishes to give ordinary Jews , worn out with toil, the “holy books” without embroidered covers, but in the simple, weekday garment of the colloquial language, with its homely concepts and images, including its Slavisms, as it is spoken at home and in the market place. . . .Mendel Levin-Satanow did not print his translation of Proverbs in the special “women’s type” customary for Judeo-German books, but in square Hebrew letters and with vowels. Levin’s spelling is also characteristic of his translation: he writes the words mainly according to their phonetic sound. Thus we find in his work rufikh, not ruf ikh: nemtzakh, instead of nemt es aykh . . .[20]

Mishlei Shelomo was part of Lefin’s translation of the Bible into Yiddish, of which only the volumes on Proverbs and Ecclesiastes were published. He was able to publish Mishlei Shelomo with the financial aid of Joseph Perl. As noted above, Mishlei Shelomo has approbation from two av bet din. It is rare, indeed unusual, for rabbis to give approbations to books by Maskilim, especially in this case where a sponsor was Joseph Perl, who was opposed to the orthodox establishment.

Waxman observes that Lefin’s translation into the Yiddish vernacular raised the objection, “a hue and cry” among Maskilim who regarded Yiddish as a jargon and wished to reduce its use as much as possible. Tobias Gutman, another maskil, even wrote a pamphlet against Lefin, branding him a traitor to the cause of Hebrew. Leaders of the Galician Maskilim intervened and the pamphlet was not published during Lefin or Gutman’s lifetime. All of this notwithstanding, Lefin’s books were generally popular.

IV

Luach (Calendar) – Three calendars are recorded for the Tarnopol press, that is, 1813,1814, and 1815, all credited to Joseph Perl. Each calendar is octavo in format, the 1814 calendar, our subject calendar, is (8⁰: [9], [4], 1, 11, [1] ff).

Joseph Perl (1773–1839), already noted several times in passing, was a person of import in the Haskalah. He was born in Tarnopol to Todros. a wealthy wine merchant and for a time holder of the communal concession for the tax on meat. As a young man, Perl was attracted to Hassidism, but while a partner in his father’s business he travelled to various locations where he met Maskilim, among them, in Brody, Menahem Mendel Lefin, who inspired Perl. He was deeply involved throughout his life in education, founding a moderate Haskalah school in Tarnopol, one that continued to exist until World War II. Perl served as principal of the school, which initially gave lessons in Perl’s mansion taught in German, boys learning for eight years, girls for five. An opponent of the educational system established by Perl was Joshua Heschel Babad, av bet din of Tarnopol.

1814, Luach (Calendar)

Among his activities in Tarnopol, from 1813 to 1815, was the publication of these calendars, which cited rabbinic sources and popular science. Perl became an opponent of Hassidis, which he felt had left the path of tradition, authoring several anti-Hasidic satires, beginning with Über das Wesen der sekte Chassidim (On the Essence of the Hasidic Sect), written between 1814 and 1816. Next was a Hebrew-Yiddish parody of R. Naḥman of Bratslav, entitled “The Story of the Loss of the Prince,” which mocked Hasidism. His most important work was Megaleh temirin (The Revealer of Secrets; 1819), published under the pseudonym Ovadyah ben Petaḥyah, “harshly critical of Hasidic society, its leaders, and its customs its leaders, and its customs.” Perl wrote yet additional works in the same vein.[21] The activities of Perl and his fellow Maskilim resulted in a ban on the Maskilim by the admorim R. Jacob Orenshtein of Lvov in 1816 and by R. Zevi Hirsch Eichenstein in 1822, and R. T. Israel from Rejin, nicknaming “Joseph Perl ‘the second son of Miriam’” referring to the founder of Christianity.[22]

The cover of the calendar succinctly states that it is a calendar for the year 1814 and on the verso lists the contents, that is, the calendars and other material included within the publication. This is followed by a more detailed title-page that states that it is from the year five thousand תקע”ד ([5] 574 = 1814) from the creation of the world according to the accounting of the people of Israel, followed by its contents, which include the Roman (secular) calendar, other calendars as well as other virtues such as the eastern calendar, sunset, the days (history) of the Roman state, locations where places of justice are closed, concluding that added is a luah ha-lev (heart rest) in which all who read it will find calm for his soul, and, de rigeur, with the permission of the censor.

The verso of the title-page has a list of pertinent contractions for the year 1814 and below the order of Hoshanas (prayers said on Hoshana Rabbah, the seventh day of Sukkot). This is followed by several charts for the molad (appearance of the new moon), chronology of historical events, additional calendars, customs, and customs pertaining to the year 1814, and then luah ha-lev which encompasses such subjects as hospitality, loving thy neighbor, loving Torah and wisdom, charity, honoring one’s parents, and much more. Next is a section entitled examining nature, with subheadings, encompassing such subjects as five things are said about a mad dog (Yoma 88), and concerning products such as grapes and olives. At the end are ethical parables and eleven riddles, for example. who is it that is born a few days after his mother; what is the easiest of all things to do, concluding that the answers will be given in the next calendar.

Shevah Tefillot – Another prayer book, attributed by some to Joseph Perl. It is a small work (15 cm., [40\] pp.), designed for the use of students. The title-page informs that it is “Shevah Tefillot: for the seven days of the week, as the young boys pray daily immediately when they come to learn in the Beit ha-Sefer (yeshivah) which exists to educate the Benei Yisrael (Jewish children) of Tarnopol). Immediately below it is like text in Yiddish. The following page has the verse “He who turns a deaf ear to instruction. His prayer is an abomination” (Proverbs 28:29). The text is comprised of facing pages of prayers for each of the seven days of the week in square vocalized Hebrew letters and in Yiddish in square unvocalized Hebrew. The National Library of Israel (NLI) attributes Shevah Tefillot to the Beit Sefer ha-Hinukh Na’arei Benei Yisrael (Tarnopol), that is the school faculty. The Thesaurus attributes Shevah Tefillot to both the Beit Sefer and Joseph Perl, in contrast to the NLI description which states that the author compiler is unknow. However, given Perl’s involvement with education in Tarnopol the attribution to Perl appears reasonable.

V

Sha’arei Ziyyon – A very different type of work, in contrast to the works of Maskilim, is R. Nathan Nata ben Moses Hannover’s (d. 1683) Sha’arei Ziyyon, a collection of Lurianic kabbalistic prayers, particularly for Tikkun Hazot (midnight prayers in remembrance of the destruction of the Temple and for the restoration to the Land of Israel). Hannover’s birthplace and early background are uncertain. His residence in Zaslav, Volhynia, was apparently peaceful and untroubled, but came to an end with the Chmielnicki massacres of 1648-49 (tah ve-tat), witnessed and recorded by him in Yeven Mezulah. He is reported to have learned Kabbalah with R. Samson Ostropoler of Polonnoye (Volhynia) who died in those massacres (above). In 1683, Hannover, then dayyan in Ungarisch Brod, was murdered while at prayers by a stray bullet fired by raiding Turkish troops.[23]

Hannover was the author of several other important works, among them Yeven Mezulah, which chronicles the experiences of Polish Jewry during the Chmielnicki massacres, based on first person accounts, first edition published in Venice (1653) and Safah Berurah, a popular four language, Hebrew-German-Latin-Italian,, glossary for conversation and as a guidebook for travelers consisting of 2,000 words (Prague, 1660). Another work, Ta’amei Sukkah (Amsterdam, 1652) is a discourse on the festival of Sukkot. Based on a sermon delivered in Cracow in 1646; the work is incomplete. Lack of funds prevented Hannover from publishing the entire work; therefore, he writes, he is publishing one discourse only. No other parts were ever published.[24]

Turning to Sha’arei Ziyyon, it was published in 1815 in a small format, as a 14 cm. sextodecimo (16⁰: 132 ff.). The title is from “The Lord loves the gates of Zion (sha’arei Ziyyon) more than all the dwellings of Jacob” (Psalms 87:2). The title-page informs that Hannover relied on the works of R. Hayyim Vital (1542–1620), the foremost student or R. Isaac Luria (ha-Ari ha-Kodesh, 1534–1572), whose teachings were based on R. Shimon bar Yohai (mid-second century C.E.). The title-page is followed by a description of the seven sha’arim (seven gates) comprising Sha’arei Ziyyon. They are Tikkun Hazot based on Etz ha-Hayyim; Tikkun ha-Nefesh, to be said after Tikkun Hazot with Yedid Nefesh; Tikkun ha-Tefillah according to Kabbalah; Tikkun Kriat ha-Torah; Tikkun Kriat Shema with the appropriate kavvanot; Tikkun shel Erev Rosh Hodesh; and Tikkun Malkhut on Rosh Ha-Shanah and Yom ha-Kippurim. Omitted are the approbations and Hannover’s introduction that appeared in the first edition (Prague, 1682).

Text is generally in a single column in square vocalized letters, occasionally accompanied by commentary in rabbinic letters. This too is in contrast to the first edition which was in a single column in rabbinic type with occasional headers, and some limited text in square letters. Sha’arei Ziyyon is primarily a compilation of existing prayers assembled into one work. Prayers currently recited on special festival days, such as Ribbono shel Olam, said prior to the removal of the Torah from the Ark and the Yehi Ratzon after the priestly blessing are taken from Sha’arei Ziyyon

1815, Sha’arei Ziyyon

Gershom Scholem, in describing the influence of Kabbalah on Jewish life, writes that one of the areas in which it had the greatest influence was prayer. Sha’arei Ziyyon is among the most influential books in this sphere, expressing Lurianic doctrines “of man’s mission on earth, his connections with the power of the upper worlds, the transmigrations of his soul, and his striving to achieve tikkun were woven into prayers that could be appreciated and understood by everyone, or that at least could arouse everyone’s imagination and emotion.”[25] Sylvie-Anne Goldberg describes as Sha’arei Ziyyon “one of the most widely read books in the Jewish world.”[26] The Bet Eked Sefarim enumerates fifty-four editions through 1917.[27] The National Library of Israel records an additional twelve editions through 2019.

Likkutei Zevi – Another liturgical work is R . Zevi Hirsch ben Hayyim Wilhermsdorfer’s Likkutei Zevi, a varied prayer book. Published in 1815 it too is a 14 cm. sextodecimo (16⁰: 102 ff.). Zevi Hirsch was a scholar and printer in Wilhemsdorf, active there for almost three decades, beginning to print in 1712 at the age of twenty-nine. He was the was the author of annotations to a Selihot (1714), Darkei No’am (1724) and Likkutei Zevi (1738) published by him in Wilhemsdorf, as well as Likkutei Naftali (Fuerth, 1769).[28]

The title-page notes that Likkutei Zevi has been printed numerous times and has added prayers for the shelosh regalim, on teshuvah. Likkutei Zevi begins with prayers in large square vocalized letters, followed by prayers in smaller square unvocalized Hebrew and includes material in rabbinic letters. The text is comprised of selections form Psalms, to be said on different occasions and times of the year, such as Hodesh Elul (hafares Nedarim), Rosh HaShanah, and Yom Kippur, Mishnayot for tractates Yoma and Sukkah with the commentary of R. Obadiah Bertinoro, brief halakhot for Sukkah, material on Pesah, Iggerot Teshuvah and Rabbenah Yonah’s Yesod ha-Teshuuvah. Likkutei Zevi has proved to be a popular work, Friedberg records this as the twenty-sixth edition of fifty-eight entries for that work in the Bet Eked Sepharim through 1875, and notes further editions with supplementary material.[29]

VI

We began by noting that the Tarnopol press of Naḥman Pineles and Jacob Auerbach published a variety of valuable works “blossoms have appeared in the land, The time of your song has arrived, and the voice of the turtledove, is heard in our land. The green figs form on the fig tree. The vines in blossom give off fragrance,” this despite being “short lived and closed prematurely.” The examples of the titles issued by the press encompass philosophic, Hassidic (Kabbalistic), and Maskilic works, many clearly designed to be of communal value, such as prayer books, calendars, Hamishah Homshei Torah, and Mishlei Shelomo, others reflecting the diverse composition of the community. The varied works include books by Don Isaac ben Judah Abrabanel, Samson Ostropoler of Polonnoye, Nathan Hannover, and Menahem Mendel Lefin, and Joseph Perl.

Pineles and Auerbach were partners in the press until 1814. After that Friedberg informs that Pineles was the sole printer. He suggests that as Tarnopol was part of the Russian domain the press omitted the place of printing from some title-pages in order to mislead the Austrian censor, citing Yeshu’ot Meshiho, Hamishah Homshei Torah, Imrei Binyamin, Torat ha-Adam, Pa’ne’ah Raza, and others as examples. With the exception of Torat ha-Adam and Likkuttei Shoshanah (below) all of the titles seen and reproduced here give Tarnopol as the place of printing, which supports Friedberg that Pineles printed copies with variant title-pages for different markets. The only problem with Friedberg’s examples is that Friedberg stated that he did not see the title-page of Yeshu’ot Meshiho but included it as an example of work with variant title-pages.[30]

The press ceased printing in Tarnopol in 1817 due to a boycott of the press publications by the Orthodox community for supporting the Haskalah.[31] Prior to that, according to Friedberg, on July 6, (1 Sivan) 1816, after Tarnopol had returned to Austrian rule the press published Mekor Haim (1816) as well as educational works in German. The National Library of Israel lists a small a small number of later works, such as Ibacharta Bachaim (komentarz do Szulchana Arucha) by Hayyim ben Pinchas Schachter (1838) and Ma’aseh Ninveh (Prophezeiung Obadia’s, 1848), the latter also listed by the Thesaurus. The short-lived life of the Tarnopol press and the controversy over the nature of several of its works notwithstanding, in retrospect it can be said that the Tarnopol did press publish a variety of valuable works. Given the brief life of the press and its unfortunate end we might conclude “The little foxes. that ruin the vineyards— For our vineyard is in blossom.”

1813/14 Likkuttei Shoshanah

[1] Once again, I would like to express my appreciation and gratitude to Eli Genauer for reading this article and for his general editorial suggestions. All images in this article are courtesy of the National Library of Israel excepting Likkuttei Shoshanah, which is courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak.

[2] Nathan Michael Gelber and Aharon Weiss. “Tarnopol,” Encyclopaedia Judaica, vol. 19, pp. 516-518; Joseph Jacobs, Schulim Ochser, Jewish Encyclopaedia, vol. 12 pp. 63-64

[3] Jonathon Meir, “”Ternopil,” YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe 2 (New Haven & London, 2008), 855-56.

[4] Francine Shapiro,  Project Coordinator, “Tarnopol,” Encyclopedia of Jewish Communities in Poland, Volume II (Ternopil, Ukraine), Translation of “Tarnopol” chapter from Pinkas Hakehillot Polin by translated by Shlomo Sneh with the assistance of Francine Shapiro, pp. 234-51, published by Yad Vashem, Jerusalem. https://www.jewishgen.org/yizkor/pinkas_poland/pol2_00234.html. The following description of Tarnopol is based on this Pinkas.

[5] “Tarnopol,” The Encyclopedia of Jewish life Before and During the Holocaust, editor in chief, Shmuel Spector; consulting editor, Geoffrey Wigoder; foreword by Elie Wiesel II (New York, 2001), III pp. 1291-93.

[6] Joshua Heschel Babad subsequently served briefly in Lublin (1828), but was compelled to leave the city because of his dispute with the Mitnaggedim there. He returned to Tarnopol serving there for almost forty years, until 1837. In 1830, Babad became ill and, in 1838, was replaced as rabbi, by the Maskil Shelomoh Yehudah Rapoport (Shir). Babad’s responsa, Sefer Yehoshu’a (Zolkiew, 1829), on Shulḥan Arukh, was considered a basic halakhic work. (Josef Horovitz, “Babad,” Encyclopedia Judaica, vol. III: vol. 3: pp. 14-15; Haim Gertner, “Babad Family,”; Yivo Encyclopedia, vol. I: pp. 102-03

[7] Ch. Friedberg: History of Hebrew Typography in Poland from its beginning in the year1534 and its development to the present. . . . Second Edition Enlarged, improved and revised from the sources (Tel Aviv, 1950), 148-49 [Hebrew].

[8] Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Listing of Books Printed in Hebrew Letters Since the Beginning of Printing circa 1469 through 1863 II.(Jerusalem, 1993–95), 340-41 {Hebrew].

[9] Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography, reports that the copy he saw lacked a title-page. He attributes this to the conditions described above.

[10] Benzion, Netanyahu, Don Isaac Abravanel: Statesman & Philosopher, (Philadelphia, 1972), var. cit.

[11] Ch. B. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, (Israel, n.d.), yod 1061 [Hebrew].

[12] M. Gaster, “Abravanel’s Literary Work,” in Isaac Abravanel. Six Lectures, ed. J. B. Trend and H. Loewe (Cambridge, 1937), pp. 48-49; and Menachem Marc Kellner, ed. and tr. Principles of Faith (Rosh Amanah) (Rutherford, 1982), pp. 11-50.

[13] Ada Rapoport-Albert, “Shimshon ben Pesaḥ of Ostropolye,” YIVO Encyclopedia 2: 1710.

[14] Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, Shem ha-Gedolim ha–Shalem with additions by Menachem Mendel Krengel II (Jerusalem, 1979), p. 134 pe no. 123 [Hebrew].

[15] Ch. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim, (Israel n.d.), pe 575 [Hebrew].

[16] National Library of Israel; Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book, II, 340: 7. In contrast to the two previous citations Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim tav records Torat ha-Adam as Tarnopol, 1812

[17] Courtesy of Virtual Judaica.

[18] Bidspirit, Winners lot 102 (January 18, 2021). Imrei Binyamin had an estimated auction price of $300-500, price realized $130. Another copy, Moreshet lot 032 (August 26, 2020), was placed on auction, estimate $350. Not sold. Virtual Judaica (September 19, 2017), estimate $200-500, price realized $100.

[19] Meyer Waxman, A History of Jewish Literature (Cranbury, 1960), vol. III pp. 142-44; Israel Zinberg, A History of Jewish Literature translated by Bernard Martin, VI (Cleveland, 1972-78), pp. 275-280

[20] Zinberg, vol. IX, p.216.

[21] Jonatan Meir, “Perl, Yosef,” YIVO Encyclopedia, vol. 1342-44.

[22] Francine Shapiro, Project Coordinator, “Tarnopol,” Encyclopedia of Jewish Communities in Poland, p.5.

[23] Concerning Hannover see Marvin J. Heller, “R. Nathan Nata ben Moses Hannover: The Life and Works of an Illustrious and Tragic Figure,” Seforim.blogspot.com, December 28, 2018, reprinted in Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book, (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2021) pp. 256-72.

[24] Concerning other such small books published as a prospective for larger unpublished see Marvin J. Heller, “Books not Printed, Dreams not Realized,” in Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 285-303.

[25] Gershom Scholem, Kabbalah (NewYork, 1973), p. 193.

[26] Sylvie-Anne Goldberg, Crossing the Jabbok: Illness and death in Ashkenazi Judaism in Sixteenth through Ninteenth-Century Prague (Berkeley, 1996), p. 88.

[27] Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim, shin 2148. Given all of those editions it should be noted that the Bet Eked Sefarim does not include the Tarnopol edition, which, if it did, would be the thirty-ninth printing or Sha’arei Ziyyon.

[28] Concerning Zevi Hirsch ben Hayyim and his press in Wilhermsdorf see Marvin J. Heller, Printing the Talmud: A History of the Individual Treatises Printed from 1700 to 1750 (Brill, Leiden, 1999), pp. 118-52; Moshe N. Rosenfeld, Jewish Printing in Wilhermsdorf. A Concise Bibliography of Hebrew and Yiddish Publications, Printed in Wilhermsdorf between 1670 and 1739, Showing Aspects of Jewish Life Also seen Mittelfranken Three Centuries Ago Based on Public and Private Collections and Genizah Discoveries. With an Appendix ‘Archival Notes’ by Ralf Rossmeissl (London, 1995), var. cit.

[29] Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim, lamed 645.

[30] Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography, op. cit.

[31] Gelber and Weiss, EJ, op. cit.

R. Yudel Rosenberg, R. Mordechai Elefant, and Sexual Abuse

Marc B. Shapiro

1. Many readers of the Seforim Blog are aware of R. Yudel Rosenberg, the fascinating talmid chacham and posek who for some reason was also drawn to forgeries. Ira Robinson has recently authored a complete biography of Rosenberg, A Kabbalist in Montreal: The Life and Times of Rabbi Yudel Rosenberg. This wonderful book is certainly deserving of a complete review on the Seforim Blog, but here I would just like to comment on a criticism of me.

On p. 219 Robinson discusses the letter of R. Hayyim Hezekiah Medini that Rosenberg included in his Sha’arei Zohar Torah.

The letter of Rabbi Medini as published by Yudel Rosenberg has been challenged as a forgery by Rabbi Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, David Zvi Hillman, and Marc B. Shapiro on the grounds that some linguistic elements of the letter are foreign to Rabbi Medini’s style and may well have come from the pen of Rabbi Rosenberg.

In the note to this passage, Robinson refers to my Seforim Blog post here, where in addition to mentioning the points made by R. Sofer,[1] I write:

Let me also add that the way Medini (=Rosenberg) concludes the forged haskamah is not like any of his other letters, which are included in Iggerot Sedei Hemed (Bnei Brak, 2006). In the authentic letters, before his name Medini always adds הצב”י or הצעיר, which he does not do in the forged haskamah. In his authentic letters, he also never closes them by adding to his name רב ומו”ץ בעיר הקדש חברון. Therefore, there can be no doubt that the letter of approbation sent by Medini to Rosenberg is simply another one of the latter’s forgeries.

Robinson states (p. 219 n. 25):

On one of his points Shapiro is mistaken. He wrote in his blog: “In the authentic letters, before his name Medini always adds ha-tsa’ir, which he does not do in the forged haskamah.” In Yudel Rosenberg’s work, the Medini letter does close with yedido ha-tsair.

Here is the haskamah, and indeed Robinson is correct that הצעיר appears. I can’t explain why I wrote otherwise.[2]

Since we are discussing the forged haskamah, let me add two additional points relating to the final lines. I looked through all the letters in Iggerot Sedei Hemed and in none of them does this expression appear:

כנפשו הטהורה וכנפש ידידו

Furthermore, R. Medini always adds הי“ו or less commonly ס“ט after his name. Both of these are missing here.

While on the topic of forgeries, let me mention something else. In my post here I deal with the notorious forger, Chaim Bloch. One of the forgeries I mention is his creation of an alternate version of שפוך חמתך in the Passover Haggadah. In Bloch’s forgery, instead of “Pour out Your rage upon the nations that do not know You,” followed by more lines beseeching God to destroy the wicked ones, a more universalist formulation is found that begins with שפוך אהבתך. This forgery, which Bloch claims is from a 1561 Worms manuscript, reads as follows:

Pour out Your love on the nations who have known You and on the kingdoms who call upon Your name. For they show loving-kindness to the seed of Jacob, and they defend Your people Israel from those Who would devour them alive. May they live to see the sukkah of peace spread over Your chosen ones, and to participate in the joy of Your nations.

This translation is taken from R. Jonathan Sacks’ Haggadah (The Applebaum Edition), p. 120. Unfortunately, Sacks did not know about the history of Bloch and thought he was dealing with an authentic text. Sacks introduces the phony prayer as follows:

In one manuscript from Worms, 1521, there is a unique addition to the Haggada alongside “Pour out Your rage.” It is a prayer of thanks for the righteous gentiles throughout history who, rather than persecuting Jews, befriended them and protected them at times of danger.

3. Readers of the Seforim Blog might recall that on a few occasions I cited passages from the memoir of the late R. Mordechai Elefant, Rosh Yeshiva of Itri and builder of a vast Torah empire. These were the first times that passages from the memoir that he dictated appeared in print. I was then one of the few people who had a copy of the memoir, and a number of readers can attest that I did not agree to share it with them because I did not have permission from the person who gave it to me. Subsequently, Mishpacha got a copy of it and published some selected (and “touched up”) portions.[3]

In September 2019, R. Pini Dunner[4] published the memoir and you can view it here (Although this site says May 1, 2013, in reality Dunner only uploaded it in 2019.)

Dunner writes:

Rabbi Elefant’s candid memoirs are startling, not just because they reveal much that one would hardly have expected from a top-tier Rosh Yeshiva, but even more because of the very frank revelations he willingly shared regarding the background to his extraordinary life.

I distinctly recall his many sardonic observations about life and people; he was a true iconoclast who had clearly never read the memo about how senior public servants should express themselves, and particularly rabbis. At the same time, he was an extraordinary scholar, who could lecture on any Talmudic topic, without prior warning, to discerning peers and students, dazzling them with both his vast knowledge and his keen intellect.

Those who examine the Elefant memoir will come away shocked that the author was a leading rosh yeshiva. R. Aharon Rakeffet’s response after completing the memoir was that R. Elefant was “fifty percent gadol, fifty percent gangster.”[5] One thing is sure: R. Elefant was one of the most fascinating Torah scholars in recent memory, and there really was no one like him.

Anyone who reads the memoir must wonder why R. Elefant would have wanted himself to be remembered in the way the memoir describes. Certainly, no one whose only exposure to R. Elefant is through his Torah works could imagine the author’s colorful life. In fact, in R. Elefant’s posthumously published Mi-Zahav Mordechai he is described on the title page as שר התורה הגאון האמיתי.

R. Elefant was obviously an unusual person, and as with other writers of memoirs in rabbinic history (e.g., R. Leon Modena, R. Jacob Emden, R. Elijah David Rabinowitz-Teomim), he was an independent thinker who did not believe in following the herd. R. Elefant, as with all memoir writers, wanted us to learn about his experiences and views, things we would not know about if we only looked at his yeshiva persona.

I asked R. Nathan Kamenetsky about R. Elefant after I read the memoir, and I gave R. Kamenetsky a copy of it. (R. Kamenetsky worked closely with R. Elefant in Itri). But I did not know R. Elefant, so anything I suggest will be speculation.

When I finished reading the memoir, and was wondering why R. Elefant would want all this unusual information made public, I thought of two possible reasons. The first is pride, to show that one can be a talmudic scholar—and R. Elefant was an authentically great one—and at the same time be “with it”, that is, to be able to travel around the world and have relationships with all sorts of unusual people. Looking at matters this way, the memoir can perhaps be seen as subversive, in that although R. Elefant lived in one world, and had great respect for the rabbis of that world, he also happily lived in another world and wanted to show people how he did it.

The other possibility I thought of is that R. Elefant actually felt guilty about how he lived his life, and the memoir was his way of making matters right, as it were. He was a rosh yeshiva and was therefore given great respect. He was also close to a number of gedolei Yisrael. Perhaps R. Elefant felt uncomfortable in his role, where he was regarded as a שר התורה and a גאון אמיתי, since unlike the other roshei yeshiva and gedolim, his life was not one of “only Torah.” Is it possible that R. Elefant was putting it all out there to set the record straight, that is, to let people know who he really was, because in the end he felt guilty that he was placed in the same category as other roshei yeshiva? Could it be that R. Elefant, who had so many interests and couldn’t be happy spending his life entirely in the beit midrash, felt guilty being compared to the roshei yeshiva and gedolim whose entire lives were focused only on Torah study and spiritual improvement? I can’t help but think that if R. Elefant had children, and was busy raising them, he wouldn’t have had his wanderlust and need for adventure.

R. Elefant himself tells us that in addition to his “lamdan side,” he also has a “shaygetz (irreligious) side” (p. 40). I cannot imagine any other rosh yeshiva saying such a thing about himself. R. Elefant’s “shaygetz side” was not something that most would have known about had he not revealed it, and it is this side of him that people have found shocking. Obviously, R. Elefant knew they would find it shocking, yet he still wished to make it public. My sense is that he was a man of truth, and did not want to pretend. He wanted people to know what he was about, with all of his complexity.

I think it is very telling that after mentioning his “shaygetz side,” R. Elefant adds, “Thank G-d that side of me didn’t manifest itself in my students.” This line shows that, at the end of the day, R. Elefant was not very proud of this side of him, which I think lends credence to my suggestion that the memoir was his way of setting the record straight so that the world not think of him as someone he was not. (A close student of R. Elefant told me he liked this suggestion.) Also noteworthy is that right at the beginning of the memoir, R. Elefant states: “But I don’t kid myself. I know I’m not a spiritual model for my students, nor do I ever make out that I am.” 

Even if I am wrong in discerning R. Elefant’s ultimate motivation, memoirs by their nature provoke thoughts in the reader, and the two suggestions I mention are what the memoir brought to my mind.

There are those who knew R. Elefant who believe that one must distinguish between his younger days, when he was completely engrossed in Torah study, and later in life when he realized that he had a knack for raising money. It was then that he started traveling the world and hanging out with celebrities, politicians, and other colorful characters. Some will regard this as a limud zekhut for the entire bizarre and eye-opening memoir. Others will probably say that while R. Elefant raised a lot of money and built a Torah empire, the toll it took on him, as seen in how he chose to portray himself in his own memoir, shows that it was not worth it.

The copy of the memoir that Dunner placed online has become internationally famous, and you have to love the title he gave it: “An Elephant Never Forgets”. Yet Dunner’s copy is missing the first page, so let me provide it now.

In Dunner’s copy the handwriting on p. 59 can’t be read. Here are pages 58-59 from my copy so you can see the passage in its entirety.

The first thing to note is that R. Elefant’s claim that Saul Lieberman felt that he should have been made chief rabbi, and because he didn’t get this he went to JTS, is completely mistaken (as is much else in the memoir). R. Kook died in 1935 when Lieberman was 37 years old. At that young age he certainly never had any thoughts of becoming chief rabbi. The language “first chief rabbi of Israel” also doesn’t make any sense, as Lieberman left Israel for JTS when it was still Palestine.

Lieberman was actually a big supporter of his friend R. Isaac Herzog’s candidacy for the Chief Rabbinate. (Even when he was in Ireland, R. Herzog was a member of the advisory board of the Harry Fischel Institute which Lieberman headed at the time of R. Kook’s death.[6]) Chaim Herzog writes that his grandfather, R. Samuel Isaac Hillman, and Lieberman “organized a small campaign staff” to support R. Herzog’s election.[7] When R. Herzog was chosen, Lieberman was one of the signatories on the document proclaiming him Chief Rabbi. (I thank the late R. Eitam Henkin for sending me this.)[8]

R. Elefant then refers to R. Avraham Yisrael Moshe Solomon as a noted talmid chacham. Yet he was never a rav in Shanghai and he was not the father of Rabbi Baruch Shimon Solomon of Petah Tikvah. The story dealing with R. Kook, which is a famous one, is also mixed up. What was said to the Brisker Rav—and there are different versions concerning who said it—is that in R. Kook’s eyes all Jews are like family, and that is why he is so friendly with them. The version R. Elefant offers makes no sense, as R. Solomon’s comment to the Brisker Rav does not follow from what the Brisker Rav told him. In the note on the left side of the page, someone added [9]: “By R’ Kook every Yid is מבשרך אל תשעלם.”

The story at the bottom of the second page is unfortunate and does not make R. Elefant look good, as we see that he did not know of the view that one can cook in a keli sheni. This was obviously what Lieberman held, and this was also the view of R. Chaim Soloveitchik and R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik. R. Hershel Schachter writes as follows in Nefesh ha-Rav, p. 170:

במשנה ברורה (סי‘ שי“ח ס“ק ל“ט) הביא דעת כמה מן האחרונים להחמיר שלא לעשות תה, אפילו בכלי שני. ורבנו אמר בזה הלשון – שהסבא שלו היה מדקדק במצוות, והיה משתמש בשקיות תה בכלי שני, ואף הוא היה נוהג אחריו להקל בזה ג“כ

The story is also unfortunate as all R. Elefant had to do was ask Lieberman why he was using the tea bag in a keli sheni, and he would have been given the answer. Although one can criticize Lieberman’s association with the Jewish Theological Seminary, it is not every day that one is in the presence of someone with indescribable knowledge of Bavli, Yerushalmi, Tosefta, and Midrash. I would have assumed that R. Elefant would have taken advantage of the time he was with Lieberman for something more constructive than rebuking him.

4. In his recent Seforim Blog post here, Edward Reichman mentions R. Judah Messer Leon and his book Nofet Tzufim which was published in 1475. He also mentions that Nofet Tzufim was the answer to one of my earlier quizzes, where I asked what was the first Hebrew book published in the lifetime of its author. See here. In his post, Reichman discusses another fascinating book, R. Abraham Portaleone’s Shiltei ha-Giborim (Mantua, 1612 [Reichman mistakenly gives the date as 1607]). This book also has the honor of being “a first,” for it was the first Hebrew book to use European punctuation, including the question mark.[10]

5. The Chaim Walder affair has once again brought the issue of sexual abuse to the limelight. It also looks like the fallout from this event, unlike earlier scandals, will have a real impact in the haredi world, as many rabbis really are taking the issue seriously. What is needed is a scholarly study of how rabbis over the years have responded to the issue of sexual abuse. I am not referring to a work designed to condemn the rabbis for not doing enough, but to an academic study that would show how responses have changed over the years, how some rabbis took the matter seriously and other did not, and how with more understanding of the effects of sexual abuse rabbinic attitudes began to change.

One example of the sort of sources that would be used in such a study is R. Elijah Rabinowitz-Teomim (Aderet), Ma’aneh Eliyahu, no. 32. The Aderet deals with a case where a girl was raped by two young Jewish men. Her family wanted to report this to the police so that the rapists would receive a fitting punishment. However, the Aderet tells us that he convinced the family not to make a public issue of the matter, so as to prevent a hillul ha-shem, and to avoid confrontation with dangerous people.

דברתי אל לבם להשקיט הדבר, לבל יתחלל שם ישראל בעמים מהפקרות ופריצות צעירי הנערים, לאנוס ולנאוף ולחלל שבת ולרצוח, וגם יש סכנה בדבר לריב עם עזי פנים כמותם, ושמעו אלי

The first reason, avoidance of hillul ha-shem, certainly remains a significant factor today in the desire to keep matters of sexual abuse from being publicly aired.

Another relevant ruling, which shows how matters were handled in the past by a truly great figure, is found in R. Menachem Mendel Schneersohn (the third Lubavitcher Rebbe), Tzemah Tzedek, Yoreh Deah, no. 237. R. Schneersohn was asked the following question: A rabbi was playing with a נער on Purim and stuck his hands into the pants of the youth. The rabbi claimed that he did so because he (the rabbi) was unable to perform sexually. He thought that this was due to his small testicles, and he wanted to see if he was unusual in this regard. In other words, the rabbi was conducting a medical examination on the youth, and one can only wonder how many other boys were also subjected to this rabbi’s examinations. R. Schneersohn decided that the rabbi should not be removed from his position, as he provided a good explanation for his behavior.

What we see from these responsa (and others can be mentioned) is how much attitudes have changed in modern times. Our response would be very different than that of the Tzemach Tzedek, and I think we all would find the “justification” the abusive rabbi offered to be ludicrous, but that is only because we have been exposed to many things, including crimes perpetrated by trusted religious figures, that people in the Tzemach Tzedek’s day could never have imagined.[10]

6. As this post has discussed forgeries, I must call attention to a bombshell new book with wide-ranging implications by R. Moshe Hillel. It is titled חזון טברימון and makes a strong case that R. Yaakov Moshe Toledano created many forged documents. Often we think of forgers as shady characters, however R. Toledano was a respected rav who held a number of important positions, including Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv. In the election for Sephardic Chief Rabbi of the State of Israel, he lost to R. Isaac Nissim. R. Toledano was also a posek who authored the responsa volume Yam ha-Gadol.

It is beyond depressing to think that such a distinguished person could have been responsible for numerous forgeries. If Hillel’s claim is found to be accurate, a good of deal of scholarship, which relies on documents published by Toledano, has to be thrown out. This is every scholar’s nightmare, that the conclusions he or she reaches are based on fraudulent information.

Hillel also argues that the location of R. Moses Hayyim Luzzatto’s grave in Tiberias, which has become a popular pilgrimage site, is an invention of R. Toledano who created a phony “tradition”. For some initial discussion of Hillel’s book, see here where you can also download the book. Those interesting in purchasing a copy should contact Eliezer Brodt.

7. This summer my Torah in Motion trips resume. You can find information about them here.

8. For those interested in my Iggerot Malkhei Rabbanan, copies are still available at Mizrahi Book Store here.

9. Some years ago, I discovered at the University of Scranton a VHS tape of a 1985 lecture from Prof. Isadore Twersky. (I had already known of this lecture, as when I arrived in Scranton one of my colleagues mentioned to me how unusual it was that Twersky sat for his presentation.) I turned the VHS into a DVD, and a few weeks ago I had the tech people at Scranton turn it into a digital file and upload it to the University of Scranton’s YouTube channel. You can see the video here. This is the only video of a Twersky lecture to be found on the internet, and I am sorry that the sound is not so good. I don’t know whose idea it was to set up an Israeli flag next to Twersky as he spoke. If you look at the beginning of the video you can see that Twersky was actually sitting right in front of a cross, so maybe someone thought that a Jewish star was also needed. I know of only one other video where you can hear Twersky speaking, and that is found here where he introduces Chaim Grade.

Quiz

1. In section 4 I mentioned some bibliographical firsts, so for a quiz question I ask the following: Which Hebrew book was the first one to use footnotes (and the footnotes even used Arabic numerals)?

2. For those who would like a different sort of quiz question: Soon it will be Pesach, so please point to a halakhah on Pesach that the Shulhan Arukh decides in accord with the Rosh, while the Rama records the practice in accord with the Rambam and the Rif.

Answers should be sent to me at shapirom2 at scranton.edu 

***********

[1] I did not refer to R. David Zvi Hillman’s letter which appears in Etz Hayyim 10 (5770), p. 379.
[2] As mentioned, Robinson’s book deserves an extensive review, but here is one bibliographical point. On pp. 134ff., Robinson discusses R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach’s correspondence with Rosenberg concerning the halakhic status of electricity. Robinson states that R. Auerbach’s Jan. 8, 1935 letter that strongly criticizes Rosenberg’s approach is unpublished. Yet the letter actually appears in R. Auerbach’s Meorei Esh ha-Shalem (Jerusalem, 5770), pp. 368ff.
[3] Mishpacha, Dec. 18, 2013.
[4] See here. Even before Dunner published the memoir, his copy was circulating and was placed online in June 2019. See here.
[5] Listen here at minute 72.
[6] See Sefer ha-Yovel for Harry Fischel (Jerusalem, 1935), Hebrew section, pp. 11, 20, English section, p. 8.
[7] Chaim Herzog, Living History (New York, 1996), p. 28 (called to my attention by Rabbi Jacob Yellin). According to Chaim Herzog, Lieberman would become his parents’ closest friend. See Elijah J. Schochet and Solomon Spiro, Saul Lieberman: The Man and His Work (New York, 2005), p. 52.
[8] In 1935 R. Herzog was a candidate for the chief rabbinate of Tel Aviv. The other candidates were R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik and R. Moshe Avigdor Amiel. It is of interest that the Hazon Ish supported R. Herzog’s candidacy. See Dov Eliach, Be-Sod Siah (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 258-259. One might have expected R. Meir Berlin (Bar-Ilan), the great Mizrachi leader (and Lieberman’s father-in-law), to have supported R. Herzog or R. Amiel as they were both leading figures in Mizrachi, while R. Soloveitchik had no Mizrachi connections at this time. Yet because of his familial connection to R. Soloveitchik, Berlin put his support behind him. In a Nov. 10, 1935, letter from R. Herzog to Lieberman, R. Herzog writes as follows regarding the lack of support from Berlin, whom he calls מנהיגנו הנערץ והאהוב:

אין בלבי שום תרעומות עליו כי סוף סוף הרב הנ“ל הוא קרובו ובל תדין את חבירך וכו‘, ועוד כי בודאי עשה מה שעשה בלב שלם וטהור מתוך הכרתו הפנימית

You can see the letter here where a number of letters from the Lieberman archive have been uploaded. The source of these letters is not indicated, which means that they were not uploaded in accordance with the regulations of the Jewish Theological Seminary Library.
[9] תשעלם should be written תתעלם, and the passage comes from Isaiah 58:7. The verse actually has לא instead of אל. Yet a number of early rabbinic sources cite the verse with the word אל, so this was probably found in their texts. Indeed, critical editions of the book of Isaiah (Kittel, C.D. Ginsburg) report that many manuscripts have אל. Yet it is interesting that even though the verse appears with לא in every Tanakh printed today, rabbinic authors continue to cite the verse with אל. In fact, the Tolna Rebbe makes a big deal about how the first letters of מבשרך אל תתעלם spell אמת. See Tanḥumekha Yesha’ash’u Nafshi: Tolna (Jerusalem, 2004), pp. 235, 405, 506, 698.
[10] See Cecil Roth, The Jews in the Renaissance (Philadelphia, 1959), p. 315.
[11] R. Solomon ben Adret, She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rashba, vol. 1, no. 571(b), deals with a case where a woman accused her husband, who was also a rabbi, of: 1. sexually abusing their son, 2. having sexual relations with his slave, 3. being a heretic. However, in this case it is not clear that the woman was to be believed, as she made the accusations as part of her dispute with her husband. Things got so bad that she hired a non-Jew to bring her accusations before the government, knowing that if she was believed her husband would be burned. (She clearly wanted to get rid of him for good.) This case is discussed by Norman Roth, Jews, Visigoths and Muslims in Medieval Spain (Leiden, 1994), pp. 195-196.