Some More Assorted Comments, part 1

Some More Assorted Comments, part 1
by: Marc B. Shapiro
1. Following my last post, a number of people have corresponded with me about the issue of anti-Semitism and how it it sometimes self-inflicted because of Jewish actions that cause a hillul ha-Shem, meaning that we can’t always claim ידינו לא שפכו את הדם הזה. As many readers know, R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg already pointed out that some anti-Semitism arises for precisely this reason. He was not the first. R. Israel Moses Hazan (Kerakh shel Romi, p. 4a), speaks of the bad impression given non-Jews by Jewish texts (and obviously also Jewish behavior):
שאנחנו מצד אמונתנו אנחנו מחוייבים להיות משחיתים הקיבוץ המדיני
See also the words of R. Solomon Alami, Iggeret ha-Mussar, ed. Haberman (Jerusalem, 1946), pp. 11-12:
עם היותנו עבדים נכבשים להם התלנו בם וחיללנו שם קודש א-להינו בקרבם כי הלכנו אתם באונאה ובמרמה וקבענו אותם בחוקים לא טובים בערמה עד אשר מאסונו והחזיקונו כגנבים ורמאים מנאפים עצרת בוגדים.
See also Maharsha to Ketubot 67a, which so accurately describes what we often face[1]:
ורבים בדור הזה שמקבצין עושר שלהם שלא באמונה ובחילול השם כגזילת עכו”ם ואח”כ מתנדבים מאותו ממון להיות להם כבוד בכל שנה ולתת להם ברכת מי שברך להיות להם שם ותפארת, ואין זה אלא מצוה הבאה בעבירה, ואין לעושר הזה מלח וקיום
(To understand the last words, see Ketubot 66b: מלח ממון חסר)
But there are limits to what we can do, and even if we were all complete tzadikim, it would not mean the end of anti-Semitism. Yet listen to a youthful passage recorded by Gershom Scholem in his diary in 1913. It is certainly an exaggeration, but in speaking of Jews living in the modern world (as opposed to the Shtetl) there is also some truth to it: “If Judaism were as Samson Raphael Hirsch thinks it should be, there wouldn’t be any such thing as anti-Semitism.”[2] As Hirsch taught, it is incumbent on us to show that we are a great benefit to society, and we cannot behave as if the rules, and the consequences of violating these rules, only apply to everyone else. ודי בזה.
2.  In my review of Gurock’s book (see here)  I referred to Aish HaTorah honoring intermarried people at its events. In fact, they were not the first Orthodox organization to do so, as one can see from R. Avraham Weinfeld’s Lev Avraham, no. 134, which dates from the early 1970’s.

If anyone knows which institution he is referring to, please share it. For some earlier comments of mine with regard to Orthodox views of intermarriage, see here.
In general, there have been some real changes in how Orthodoxy deals with the non-Orthodox, and Adam Ferziger has recently published a valuable article on the topic.[3] In reading the article, I was surprised to learn how even  haredi Orthodoxy has begun to expand the boundaries in dealing with non-Orthodox movements and institutions. It appears that the Reinman-Hirsch book was only one aspect of this change. Here is some of what Ferziger reports:
ASK [Atlanta Scholars Kollel], however, has demonstrated a willingness to meet its constituency on its own terms by running a biweekly introductory prayer service in one of Atlanta’s largest Reform houses of worship, Temple Sinai of Sandy Springs. To be sure, the meetings take place in a social hall rather than in the synagogue sanctuary, but this is a clear departure from the guidelines set down by Feinstein. Similarly, members of the Phoenix Community Kollel have taught classes at the community sponsored Hebrew High that is housed at the Reform Temple Chai. . . . [T]he head of Pittsburgh’s Kollel Jewish Learning Center, Rabbi Aaron Kagan, meets on a regular basis with his local rabbinic colleagues from Reform and Conservative synagogues to study Torah together. . . . Based in Palo Alto, California, the Jewish Study Network—one of the most dynamic and rapidly expanding of these kiruv kollels—does not limit its interdenominational contacts to private study. Its fellows work together with Conservative and Reform representatives to create new Jewish learning initiatives throughout the Bay Area and to offer their own programming in non-Orthodox synagogues. Rabbi Joey Felsen, head of the Jewish Study Network and a veteran of five years of full-time Torah study at Jerusalem’s venerable Mir yeshivah, made clear that he was not opposed to presenting Torah lectures in a non-Orthodox synagogue sanctuary, although he preferred to teach in the social hall. Indeed, according to Rabbi Yerachmiel Fried, leader of the highly successful Dallas Area Torah Association (DATA) Kollel and a well-respected halakhist, insofar as Jewish religious institutions were concerned the only boundary that remained hermetically sealed was his unwillingness to teach in a gay synagogue. . . . 
3. Here is the link to my recent article in Milin Havivin in which I published R. Eliezer Berkovits’ responsum permitting one to enter churches.[4] (R. Jeremy Rosen agrees with Berkovits. See here.)

In addition to the figures I mentioned who are known to have entered churches, the young scholar Chaim Landerer called my attention to the famed bibliophile, Judah David Eisenstein, who in his autobiography, Otzar Zikhronotai, testifies to entering churches on a few different occasions. These are mentioned by R. David Zvi Hillman in his article in the most recent Yerushatenu 4 (2010) as part of his effort to delegitimize Eisenstein, both from a scholarly as well as from a religious standpoint.[5] The article is actually twenty pages of excerpts from Eisenstein’s writings designed to accomplish this objective.
There is no question that Hillman accomplishes at least one of his goals, which is to show that Eisenstein often misinterpreted rabbinic texts. Yet for the life of me I can’t figure out what possible objection Hillman could find in some of what he records. For example, what is wrong with Eisenstein mentioning, in his autobiography, that as a young man he served on a jury (בית דין של שנים עשר), learnt to play the piano, to ride a horse, to swim [!], to sail, to fence and to play billiards? What does Hillman expect, that Eisenstein is supposed to say that his entire life was spent in a beit midrash, never once venturing out to enjoy what the world has to offer? Hillman also finds objectionable that Eisenstein mentions that he played chess on Shabbat and Yom Tov and that in general he liked sports as they strengthened his body. Hillman even notes that Eisenstein tells the reader how much he weighed at various times of his life, and here too, I can’t figure out what the sin. In my opinion, the craziest of Hillman’s criticisms focuses on the following passage in Eisenstein’s autobiography:
בשנת 1886 הייתי בין הראשונים שעלו במדרגות לראש פסל החרות ובשנת 1928 עליתי שם ע”י המכונה נושאת אנשים עד הראש ועד מאתים מדרגות עד הלפיד של החשמל שהוא גדול בכמות רבבות אלפים נרות.
Is it possible that Hillman has never heard of the Statue of Liberty and instead thinks that Eisenstein made a pilgrimage to some pagan temple?
Here is another of the passages Hillman strangely cites in order to criticize Eisenstein:
תרפ”ב ברלין. ציר ארה”ב ואשתו הושיטו ידם לי לברכני
But if you really want to see Hillman’s extremism, look at the following passage which he finds objectionable:
עין חרוד בעמק והוא מקום הטומאה לחיי המשפחה . . . שאכלו חמץ בפסח להכעיס . . . אנחנו מקוים כי גם החלוצים יטיבו את דרכם במשך הזמן ובפרט כי הורגלו לדבר עברית ויש בכח הלשון הקדש ובמאור שבה לבדה להחזירם תחת כנפי השכינה
There is no question that Eisenstein was naive in his hope that the Hebrew language would help bring people back to religion, but does this make him a bad person? Citing this passage to disqualify Eisenstein says more about Hillman than it does about Eisenstein. (I will return to Hillman in a future post.)
Here is another of Hillman’s criticisms, but this time of a scholarly nature:
“חוה”מ נקרא מועד קטן”. היש לזה מקור הוא [!] שהוא סברת כרסו של בעל האוצר?
We all know that Tractate Moed Katan deals with Hol ha-Moed. The reason the tractate is called such is presumably to distinguish it from the Order Moed. In fact, there is evidence that the original name of the tractate was Moed “and throughout this tractate the intermediate days are referred to as Mo’ed and not as hol ha-mo’ed.”[6]  It is because of this that Hillman is so dismissive of Eisenstein’s suggestion that Moed Katan can be understood as the “lesser holiday” and refer to hol ha-moed.
Yet Hillman spoke too fast in this case, because the great R. Aryeh Zvi Frommer, Eretz Zvi (Bnei Brak, 1988), pp 351ff, also assumes that hol ha-moed is referred to as Moed Katan. Here are two pages from his derashah.


Here is an article in R. Eliyahu Schlesinger’s Areshet Sefatenu (Jerusalem, 2005), vol. 1, pp. 16-17.


It is obvious that Schlesinger’s piece is taken from Frommer. In the introduction to Areshet Sefatenu, he tells the reader that he is going to be quoting ideas found in other sources, and that he is careful to acknowledge them, but if on occasion he forgets to do so we should excuse him. This doesn’t sit well with me. How can one copy another person’s words, include them in his book, and then forget to mention where he got it from? We are not talking about a source or two that someone saw in another’s book (and about which we can debate if one needs to cite the book that led him to these sources). Here we are talking about copying another rav’s hiddush.[7]
Returning to Eisenstein, he mentions how he was a member of the Freemasons. Hillman, of course, points to this as another of Eisenstein’s religious defects. Yet the issue of Freemasonry and traditional Judaism needs to be examined carefully to see if there is any conflict between the two. (To this day, the Church forbids all Catholics from becoming Masons.)  Interestingly, Chief Rabbi Israel Brodie of the United Kingdom was a well-known Mason (as was an unnamed nineteenth-century Orthodox rabbi in New York, who was even head of a lodge[8]). Rabbi Louis Jacobs told me about the time Brodie visited Manchester, where Jacobs was then the young rabbi of the city’s Central Synagogue. Jacobs and some of the other rabbis decided to play some mischief on Brodie. They told Rabbi Isaac Jacob Weiss, who was then serving as a dayan in Manchester (later he headed the Edah ha-Haredit), all about the strange practices of the Masons that Brodie took part in. Weiss was understandably shocked, and Jacobs told me how they later watched Weiss quiz Brodie about this, and how Brodie was put on the defensive and forced to explain how all the various Masonic practices were symbolic and had nothing to do with Avodah Zarah.
There is actually a responsum about Freemasonry in R. Isaac Akrish, Kiryat Arba (Jerusalem, 1876), no. 14. He only has negative things to say about it and sees it as “complete idolatry.” He also believes that the special terms used by the Masons are משמות הטומאה מהסט”א.
Akrish himself was quite an interesting character. Although we are not used to seeing real religious fanaticism in the Sephardic world, he was an exception. When someone in Constantinople opened a school that also had secular studies, Akrish burst into his house and, accompanied by shofar blasts, placed the man under herem. Understandably, this created enormous controversy, and led to the chief rabbi R. Chaim Palache placing Akrish in herem. This forced Akrish to leave the city and travel to the Land of Israel.[9]
If people today were aware of this story, I think it could help defuse the current controversy taking place in Israel. As I am sure all are aware, we have a situation where some Ashkenazic haredi schools are reluctant to accept Sephardim.[10] But the case of Akrish shows that there is no need for this discrimination, as we see from here that Sephardim can also be extreme and intolerant. If these schools would allow the Sephardim to enter, and if they are given the proper education, one can assume that they too can be properly molded. Many of them would even become real Sephardic Uncle Toms (to use the expression coined by one of my friends). You know the type, the ones who are so embarrassed by their heritage that they that can’t wait to speak Yiddish with Moroccan accents and to change their last names, the ones who instruct their sons not to wear a tallit until they are married, the ones who insist on having a yichud room at their wedding, and the list goes on. They have been recently referred to as “anusei Sefarad shel yameinu.”[11]
The truth is, and anyone who examines the writings of young Sephardic rabbis can testify to this, that there already is a great deal of extremism out there. For every R. Hayyim Amsalem, who tries to preserve the old Sephardic approach,[12] there are rabbis who write as if they are part of the Edah Haredit. To give just one example of many, here is the title page of a recent responsa volume by R. Eleazar Raz, Mi-Tziyon Orah (Jerusalem, 2007).

In Even-ha-Ezer no. 2, Raz discusses if a woman is permitted to attend parents’ night at her son’s school. In case people are wondering why she would have any interest in doing so, well, she is a mother and normally mothers want to know how their children are doing. The problem, of course, is that by attending she would be forcing the teacher to look at her, and unlike other poskim, Rabbi Raz holds that
דמצד עיקר ההלכה הסתכלות אסורה אפילו שאין מתכוין להנות ואין לו שום הרהור
In other words, only a quick glance at a woman is permitted, but not actually looking at her.[13] But Raz is even uncomfortable with this heter:
מיהו אעפ”כ אין ראוי לאדם לראות פני אשה “כלל”. והמחמיר במקום שאפשר ולא מקל אפילו בראיה בעלמא, “קדוש” יאמר לו. ובפרט שלדעת איזה פוסקים אסור אף ראיה בדרך העברה
With this type of attitude, there isn’t much hope that he will permit a mother to come to parents’ night. Here is his conclusion:
זאת תורת העולה, שנכון מאוד למנוע הנשים שלא תבאנה ל”אסיפת הורים”. וכבר יפה עשו ויפה נהגו בכמה ת”ת וביה”ס, ששירטו וביקשו: ש”לא יבואו אלא האבות”
Raz’s book was added to hebrewbooks.org in a recent update. Coincidentally, another of the books added at this time was Livyat Hen by Rabanit [14] Hena Kossowski. Here is the title page.
  

This book records her Torah thoughts. What interests me at present is the preface which mentions how she spoke before a large gathering in Volozhin at the establishment of a girl’s school. We are told that she was congratulated after her talk by one of the rabbis. In other words, she was not only speaking before the women. The preface also records that R. Joseph Kahaneman, Rosh Yeshiva of Ponovezh, liked to talk Torah with her. He even said “that he enjoys speaking with her in Torah matters more than with many well-known rabbis.”
I find this all very interesting: Raz doesn’t think that a mother is permitted to briefly speak to her son’s teacher to see how he is doing in school, while R. Kahaneman enjoyed his many conversations with Rabanit Kossowski. Haredi Orthodoxy has two directions in front of it when it comes to how women will be treated. Which way will it go?[15]
In reading Raz I wondered why he doesn’t suggest a simple solution, namely, to allow the mother to have a telephone conference.[16] Perhaps he also views this as forbidden. If so, he could have cited one of my favorite commentators, Joseph Ibn Caspi. (Are there any Twersky students who didn’t fall in love with Ibn Caspi?) In Mishneh Kesef, part 2, p. 55 (to Gen. 18:13), Ibn Caspi raises the question why the verse says that God spoke to Abraham and not to Sarah. He replies: “It is not proper for one who is exalted and holy to speak to women.” Perhaps we can identify a little medieval misogyny here, but what I find most fascinating about this passage is what comes directly after this: “And therefore, I have guarded myself from this all my life.”
Before anyone starts associating Ibn Caspi with the Vaad le-Tzeniut, let me disabuse you of this notion. Ibn Caspi avoiding women has nothing to do with halakhic humrot, but with a desire to remove himself from the “matter” that women represent, so that he can concentrate on the spiritual realm. As I have often explained, there is a reason why the Torah had to command procreation. Some people find this a strange commandment because certainly people would have done so without a specific mitzvah. Yet this commandment was not given for the average person but for those like Ibn Caspi, and I daresay Maimonides. Had it not been for the commandment then Judaism would also have developed an elitist class that thought, much like in Christianity and Buddhism, that avoidance of physical pleasures and the burden of parenthood is the way to get close to God. The philosophy of Ibn Caspi (and Maimonides) leads directly to at least the first assumption, and perhaps also the second. Therefore, by making procreation a commandment, the Torah ensures that even those who would choose to remove themselves from physicality so as to be bound to the spiritual, they too are still forced to be part of the physical world. The Torah is making sure that there is no spiritual caste system in Judaism, between those who succumb to the weakness of the flesh and marry, and those who are more “holy” and devote themselves only to spiritual things. For us, the spiritual can only be found together with the physical.
Nevertheless, where there is a will, there is a way, and Jews have a lot of ingenuity. Judaism therefore saw the development of its own form of asceticism which acknowledged that procreation had to be fulfilled, yet once the husband had fathered children the door was left open for real asceticism.[17] And if you are wondering, well doesn’t the husband have to satisfy his wife sexually? The answer given is that this is not applicable if the woman is agreeable to ending sexual life, in part or even in whole. As you can imagine, this opened up the door for all sorts of ascetic practices (think of Gerrer hasidim) on the assumption that the wives don’t mind, and when they married they agreed to this. Those who have read Gandhi’s autobiography will find this all familiar, and as with Gandhi’s wife, I can’t imagine that the wife of one of these Jewish men who chooses to live an ascetic life really has much of a say in the matter. After all, are they supposed to complain and by doing so show how selfish and lustful they are, while their husbands are trying to reach great spiritual heights?[18] The pressure on them to support their husbands in their spiritual path is enormous. It is precisely because of this that the Steipler had to write his famous letter on this matter, as he saw the contemporary ascetics as completely undermining Jewish sexual values and selfishly seeking to raise themselves in holiness at the expense of their wives.[19]

R. Yitzhak Abadi’s new sefer, Or Yitzhak vol. 2, has just appeared, and he too deals with this issue. (For those who know Abadi’s brilliance and originality, they will not be disappointed. I think the most radical responsum in the book is Orah Hayyim no. 166, where he permits one who forgot to turn off the refrigerator light before Shabbat to open and close it throughout Shabbat without doing anything special, not even a shinui.) Abadi is hardly a liberal when it comes to relations between the sexes. He does not even believe it is permitted to kiss an adopted child of the opposite sex (Or Yitzhak, vol. 1 Even ha-Ezer no. 4). In this responsum he also says that one can’t make a yeshiva dinner in which there will be mixed seating and you also cannot go to someone’s house for Shabbat if the wife and daughters sing zemirot. In his new volume, p. 250, he states that it is not permitted for a male photographer to take pictures of the women dancing at a wedding, and you must make sure to have a women photographer do that. He also tells us, vol. 2 p. 253, that he asked the Hazon Ish about shaking a woman’s hand. The Hazon Ish told him that it is yehareg ve-al ya’avor, and this is the viewpoint Abadi adopts.

Yet Abadi is also sensitive to the problems of intimacy for modern people. As he states, this was the motivating factor for his famous and controversial responsum in which he declares that today very few newlyweds need concern themselves with the issue of dam betulim (Or Yitzhak, vol. 1, Yoreh Deah no. 33. Abadi’s conclusion is rejected by R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin, Bnei Vanim, vol. 4 no. 14, in a responsum addressed to a חוקר אחד). So it is not surprising to see him deal with this in his new volume, Orah Hayyim no. 95. Here he shows that he is opposed to any sort of asceticism in marriage and asks why the modern day ascetics have to be more pious than the rabbis of the Talmud. As he states elsewhere in this responsum: איפה היא שמחת העונה. Most fascinating is the end of the responsum where he rejects the common view that the reason for washing one’s hands after sex is to get rid of the ruah ra’ah. Such a conception, which itself leads to a negative view of sex, is, as Abadi shows, a fairly recent development.

Despite Abadi’s efforts, we must admit that asceticism has a long tradition in Judaism. In a future post I will cite many more examples of it, as well as examples from the non-ascetic tradition. One that falls into the latter category is the story told in R. Shlomo of Karlin, Shema Shlomo (Jerusalem, 1956), no. 58 (p. 96). Here we read of a pious young hasidic man who as part of his conditions for marriage tells the woman suggested to him by the Maggid of Koznitz that he needed to have sex every day:

שהוא צריך תמיד בכל יום לאשה ואינו פרוש להמתין משבת לשבת

Needless to say, the woman was shocked, and all who are interested can consult the book to see how the Maggid convinced her that despite the man’s unusual demand, she should nevertheless agree to the match.
  
3. JOFA recently published Women and Men in Communal Prayer. This contains a complete translation of Daniel Sperber’s book on the subject, as well as the famous article of  Mendel Shapiro and the responses of Eliav Shochetman and Shlomo Riskin. On p. 322, Shochetman writes:
Among other sources R. M. Shapiro finds a basis for permitting women’s aliyyot outside the synagogue in an anonymous opinion quoted in Sefer ha-Batim. . . . Indeed, here we find a clear statement that one opinion considers women’s aliyyot problematic only in the context of public reading in a synagogue, whereas when a group prays at home, women may receive aliyyot.
In fact, there is also another source that permits women’s aliyot if done in a private minyan, yet none of the scholars who have dealt with the issue have mentioned it. Here is what the sixteenth-century R. Samuel Portaleone writes (Asupot 3, p. 199-200):
ולא נהגו היתר בינינו באשה כלל משום כבוד הצבור והצניעות, דלא אכשור דרי עכשו כבתחילה. ונערה שאין מקפידין להביאה לב”ה של אנשים, מותר להעלותה לס”ת ולהפטיר, אלא שלא נהגו כן. נפקא מינא בב”ה של יחידים שמותר. ואולי גם בזה לא נהגו משום שעכשו הנשים אינן נזהרות בכל מילי דצניעותא שהיה להן ליזהר, ומרבות שיחה עם האנשים, וסייג יש בדבר. לכן המקל יהיה מן המתמיהין.
Despite his final words, he leaves no doubt that women are permitted to receive an aliyah and read the haftarah.
I was happy to write a blurb for this book, but it was not included in its entirety. So here it is.
The proper role of women in the synagogue is an issue that Modern Orthodoxy has been struggling with for over forty years. While everyone agrees that halakhah has to guide all changes in synagogue practice, women’s changing self-perception and religious sentiment must be central to any discussion of synagogue life. In recent decades many avenues for Modern Orthodox women have been opened, and have achieved widespread communal support. Yet when it comes to a fuller participation in public prayer and reading of the Torah great conflict has ensued. In this provocative book, Rabbi Prof. Daniel Sperber, using his characteristic erudition, makes the case that in the twenty-first century it is time for women to be given their halakhic right, and be permitted to read from the Torah. Together with the responses of Rabbi Shlomo Riskin and Prof. Eliav Schochetman, this book is Torah study on the highest level, by scholars who thankfully choose to be engaged in an important issue affecting the Modern Orthodox world.[20]
4. In a previous post I quoted from the recently published writings of R. Kook. In the next post (or maybe the one after that), I will deal with more of these writings, and also discuss in detail R. Kook’s Li-Nevokhei ha-Dor. A number of people were curious as to how much from R. Kook still remains in manuscript. That is a great question, and I don’t have any definitive answer. Some years ago R. Avraham Shapiro spoke of 200,000 pages that hadn’t appeared in print. I am certain that this was a great exaggeration on R. Shapiro’s part, but hopefully not. For a long time the people who were in charge of R. Kook’s writings were able to stop publication of some of the most provocative material, as they held the position of the Gaon R. Yaakov Ben-Nichol that the people couldn’t handle the truth.[21] Thankfully, in recent years the embargo has been broken.
In the next post on R. Kook  I hope to also respond to some comments I was sent about R. Kook and sacrifices. For now, however, let me just say that when it comes to R. Kook’s ideas on vegetable sacrifices and vegetarianism in general, some of the most opposed to R. Kook’s views expressed themselves very similarly to the Daas Torah of R. Avraham Bunker.[22] I am sure this will make them very happy.
For those for whom every word from R. Kook is precious, you must get a hold of R. Moshe Tsuriel’s recently published Peninei ha-Rav, especially as it contains excerpts from an unpublished book of the Rav (which is how R. Kook is referred to in Israel). Tsuriel’s book is almost 800 pages long and is full of important material, in particular his hundreds of pages of articles (and there are also great pictures). I know I am going out on a limb to say this, and some might object and offer the name of Rabbi X or Professor Y, but I don’t think that there is anyone else in the world who knows the works of R. Kook as well as Tsuriel. I am not commenting here on his interpretations of R. Kook and comparing him in this regard to other scholars. I am only speaking of sheer mastery of the Rav’s works.  Tsuriel  has also published more of R. Kook’s writings than anyone else in our time. If that was all that Rav Tsuriel worked on, it would be an incredible achievement, but there is so much more. His other writings will, however, have to wait for a future post.
5. In a previous post (see here), I dealt with the “inflation” that is often seen in rabbinic titles. Among the sources I mentioned in this regard, I neglected to call attention to R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin’s Bnei Vanim, vol. 2, no. 35. While there are many sources that discuss the phenomenon, Henkin’s responsum is noteworthy for it has a practical aspect that concerns Jewish books, the focus of this blog. But before getting to that, Henkin points out that there is a distinction between הג”ר and הרה”ג in that the former is reserved for someone whose essence is that of a gaon, while the latter is for one whose essence is that of a rav. In other words, everyone gets הרה”ג but only a few get הג”ר. While not actually adhered to by all authors, if you pay attention you will find that this is indeed a common practice. In fact, I first noticed this years ago in the responsa of R. Ovadiah Yosef. When R. Ovadiah gives someone the title הרה”ג, it is a sign that he does not regard him as one of the outstanding authorities. R. Yitzhak Ratsaby also picked up on this. In Ner Yom Tov, p. 76, he writes:
ותמהני טובא נמי על הרב הטוען שליט”א, שכתב על בעל שושנת המלך הרב הגאון מלא, ועל מהרי”ץ בראשי תיבות הרה”ג, ואין ספק בעיני המבין והיודע, שאין זה במקרה. וכי יציבא בארעא וגיורא בשמי שמיא.
Returning to Rabbi Henkin’s responsum, he says that while it is understandable in writing to someone to use all sorts of exalted descriptions, even if undeserved, writing this way for publication is improper and causes people to regard someone as much greater than he really is. Henkin even states that this sort of exaggeration sometimes causes financial loss, since if a rabbi is described as a great gaon people will be led to buy his books. [23] In other words, this is false advertising, no different than if Toyota would tell the world that they make the safest cars. If I go out and buy a book because I am told that the author is a great scholar, and then I find out that the book is nothing special, who is going to reimburse me for the wasted money? It will certainly not be the person who passed out the high praise, and obviously not the publisher (as we saw when Rav Tzair tried to return a flawed book, see here).
In fact, long before Rav Tzair tried this, we are told that R. Eizel Harif (died 1873) stated that after he died he was going to take R. Ezekiel Landau to a heavenly beit din for causing him  monetary loss. It turns out that in his responsa(Noda bi-Yehudah, Even ha-Ezer, I, no. 74) R. Ezekiel gives all sorts of exalted titles to R. Isaac ben David of Constantinople, the author of a work entitled Divrei Emet. Here is its title page.

Upon reading what the Noda bi-Yehudah wrote, R. Eizel bought the book. Yet after examining it a bit, he realized that he had wasted his money, as there was nothing of value in this work. R. Hayyim Soloveitchik, however, pointed out that in one responsum the author made a valuable point, and that R. Eizel therefore had no case against R. Ezekiel.[24] This reminds me of something said by Jacob Neusner, when he was responding to attacks that he published too much and that in some of his books there was nothing of value. He replied that in every one of his books there was at least one significant thought. There might not be more than that, but there was at least one. In other words, if you learn even one thing from a book it has some value. Rare indeed are the books from which there is literally nothing to be learnt (but sometimes we come across these books also).
6. In a previous post, see here, I discussed the way some in the haredi world try to cover up R. Yerucham Gorelik’s association with YU, where he was a Rosh Yeshiva for so many years.[25] We recently saw another example of this. R. Yerucham’s son unfortunately passed away recently, and here is the way his death was reported on the haredi website Matzav.
It is with great sadness that we report the petirah of Rav Tzvi Abba Gorelick zt”l, rosh yeshiva of Yeshiva Gedolah Zichron Moshe of South Fallsburg, NY. Rav Gorelick’s most noted accomplishment was his leadership of Yeshiva Gedolah Zichron Moshe of South Fallsburg, where thousands of bochurim and yungeleit have grown in Torah and yiras Shomayim. The yeshiva was founded in 1969 in the Bronx and later relocated to South Fallsburg. Rav Gorelick was a son of Rav Yeruchom Gorelick zt”l, a talmid of the Brisker Rov zt”l who founded an elementary boys school and later a girls school, Bais Miriam, in the Bronx, and combined had an enrollment of over 800 students. The boys’ school was named Zichron Moshe after Moshe Alexander Gross z”l, a young man who was drafted into the Navy during World War II and whose ship sank during the D-Day invasion in 1944. As the neighborhood began to decline, Rav Gorelick looked for other places to move. The Laurel Park Hotel in South Fallsburg, NY, was available and Rav Gorelick decided to buy the property with money that he had from the yeshiva. In 1970, Rav Elya Ber Wachtfogel, a friend of Rav Gorelick, joined the hanhalla as rosh yeshiva. The rest is history, as the yeshiva grew and grew, becoming one of the most respected yeshivos in the world. To this day, bochurim from across the globe come to learn at Yeshiva Zichron Moshe. The yeshiva’s mosdos, under the direction of Rav Gorelick, burgeoned and currently consist of the yeshiva gedolah and mesivta, a premier kollel, as well as a cheder and Bais Yaakov elementary school. The passing of Rav Gorelick is a blow to the entire South Fallsburg Torah community and the greater Olam Hatorah. The levaya will be held tomorrow at 11 a.m. at Yeshiva Gedolah Zichron Moshe, located at 84 Laurel Park Road in South Fallsburg, NY. The aron will leave South Fallsburg at approximately 1:30 p.m. to JFK Airport, where the levaya will continue (exact time to be determined). Kevurah will take place in Eretz Yisroel.
In omitting any mention of R. Yerucham’s primary activity throughout his life, that of Rosh Yeshiva at RIETS, we have another example of the Big Lie seen so often in the haredi press. As with all such lies, if you repeat it enough times, eventually some people will begin to accept it. Unfortunately, there are many examples that can be brought to show that the Big Lie has been quite successful in the creation and popularization of numerous haredi myths, especially when it comes to issues relating to Zionism, the State of Israel, and especially R. Kook.

Here is a picture of R. Yerucham from his youth. It has appeared in a number of places. (I also thank David Eisen for sending me a copy of it.) The rabbi in the middle is R. Baruch Ber Leibowitz and the one on the right is R. Hanoch Eiges, the Marheshet.

[1] These last two sources are cited in H. Z. Reines, “Yahas ha-Yehudim le-Nokhrim,” Sura 4 (1964), p. 197.
[2] Lamentations of Youth (Cambridge, 2007), p. 25. See the index to locate other positive references to Hirsch. In later years Scholem had a much more negative view of Hirsch’s philosophy, referring to it as a “ghastly accomodation theology.” See The Messianic Idea in Judaism (New York, 1971), p. 329.
[3] “From Demonic Deviant to Drowning Brother: Reform Judaism in the Eyes of American Orthodoxy,” Jewish Social Studies 15 (Spring/Summer 2009), pp. 56–88.
[4] For my article from this journal on pilagshim, see here. For my article on the Frankfurt rabbinical dispute, see here.
[5] I will deal with R. Chaim Kanievsky’s criticisms of Eisenstein in the next post.
[6] Encyclopedia Judaica, s.v. Moed Katan.
[7] In a future post I will deal extensively with the phenomenon of plagiarism in seforim, an issue that goes back to medieval times. In the meantime, see this hilarious example of plagiarism from the internet age (called to my attention by David Assaf).
[8] See Yosef Goldman, Hebrew Printing, no. 1115. The book referred to by Goldman is David Moses Hermalin, Ha-Yehudim ve-ha-Bonim ha-Hofshim (New York, 1899).
[9] The story is briefly recounted in Shmuel Glick, Kuntres ha-Teshuvot he-Hadash (Jerusalem, 2007), vol. 2, no. 3482, who also provides references. This is not the only time that Palache came to the aid of one who was persecuted by extremists. After the rabbis of Aleppo burnt R. Elijah Benamozegh’s commentary on the Torah, Palache wrote to Benamozegh offering his support. See Ha-Levanon, July 3, 1872, p. 351. Interestingly, on this page in Ha-Levanon, Benamozegh states that according to Ibn Ezra there are post-Mosaic additions to the Torah, and he strongly rejects this viewpoint. I mention this because every now and then I get an e-mail from someone citing his rosh yeshiva or some other talmid chacham that it is impossible, and even laughable, to assert that Ibn Ezra believed this. For some of them, even to suggest this approaches heresy. If these people would simply disagree with the widespread assumption that Ibn Ezra held these radical views, that is fine, and I would very much like to hear their arguments. But generally, the people claiming as such have no idea what the issue is and make it seem like only an idiot (or a heretic) could accuse the great Rabbi Ibn Ezra of such an assumption. I already discussed how this is R. Yosef Reinman’s tactic. See here.

At the risk of being repetitive, let me say again that to assert that no one with any Torah knowledge could conclude that Ibn Ezra had these “critical” views not only shows an ignorance of the relevant literature, but also degrades numerous great Torah scholars. In Limits of Orthodox Theology I cite 26 rishonim and aharonim who understand Ibn Ezra as advocating a “critical” position, and we can now add Benamozegh to the list. There can also be little doubt R. Ezra of Gerona is referring to Ibn Ezra when he writes (Kitvei Ramban, p. 548):
והנה השמר על נפשך להיות מין, לאמור כי עזרא הסופר הוסיף בה בלבו [מלבו] בהעתקתו כמו והכנעני אז בארץ, והנה ערשו ערש ברזל כי זו היא כפירה גמורה
This passage was brought to my attention by Bezalel Naor, Ma’amar al Yishmael (Spring, Valley, 2008), p. 26. Another source that can be added to the list is R. Judah Halawa (fourteenth century), for he too identifies Ibn Ezra as holiding critical views. See his Imrei Shefer, ed. Hershler (Jerusalem, 1993), p. 335. Halawa doesn’t agree with Ibn Ezra in this matter, and writes:
וזה הדעת רחוק מדעת רבותינו שדעתם שכל התורה כלה מפי הש”י למשה
See also R. Solomon Judah Rapoport, Iggerot Shir (Przemysl, 1885), pp. 25-26.
While on the topic of Benamozegh, and since a recent post of mine dealt with Maimonides’ view of sacrifices, readers might find the way Benamozegh characterizes Maimonides’ approach interesting (Eimat Mafgia, vol. 1, p. 11a):
והטעם המדומה והמגונה לעבודת הקרבנות
[10] R. Yaakov Yosef was at the forefront of this issue, and encouraged the Sephardi parents to take their case to the secular courts. For a relevant video, see here
See also here for a video taken on June 23, 2010, which shows R. Yaakov’s supporters. At this event, one of the Sephardic rabbis from Emanuel appeared together with R. Yaakov. He attacked the Slonimer hasidim and said that there was no choice but to take the case to the Supreme court. According to one source, see here, he even stated that the Slonimers are worse than the Nazis! R. Yaakov how now (June 25, 2010) given his first radio interview explaining his position. See here.
[11] See Ha-Absurd: Al ha-Absurd ha-Gadol she-be-Yahasei Sefaradim ve-Ashkenazim u-Mah she-Beinehem  (Ashkelon, n.d.), p. 16.
[12] For Amsalem’s latest “bombshell,”, this time in opposition to “Torah only” as a lifestyle choice, see here.
In R. Meir Mazuz’ just published Arim Nisi: Gittin, p. 109 (first pagination), we see that he agrees with his student Amsalem.

כן מ”ש הרמב”ם שצריך להיות לת”ח מלאכה המפרנסת, אילו שמעו בקולו כמה צער היה נחסך לאברכים בזמננו, המצפים בכל חודש למילגה עלובה של נערי האוצר

It was only a matter of time before the haredi gedolim attacked Amsalem, and this has now come. Here is the placard that went up against him, and relates to his new book Zera Yisrael which argues for a more liberal approach to the concept of kabbalat mitzvot in conversion.

See here for the report in Yated Neeman, which even removes the title “rabbi” from Amsalem. See here where R Binyamin Lau argues that if R. Ovadiah Yosef sacks Amsalem, it will be the end of the Shas party and R. Ovadiah’s Sephardic revolution. For Amsalem’s website, see here.

Zera Yisrael appeared with haskamot from, among others, Rabbis Meir Mazuz (whom I regard as the gadol ha-dor), Zalman Nehemiah Goldberg, Shlomo Dichovsky, Shear Yashuv Cohen, Dov Lior, Yaakov Ariel, and Nachum Eliezer Rabinovitch. I am certain that the rabbis who condemned Amsalem have never seen his book, the second volume of which contains numerous responsa from great sages who, according to the placard, have the status of eino bar hora’ah. Unfortunately, the attack on Amsalem is just the latest example of haredi verbal assaults—others will call it bullying—on those who don’t “toe the line.” These attacks have become very popular in recent years, and the list of those targeted is already quite long. Since, to mention only Sephardic gedolim, R. Mazuz, R. Amar, R. Bakshi-Doron and even R. Ovadiah have been subjected to this, the attack on Amsalem was certainly not unexpected.
[13] Regarding looking at women, I think most people will be surprised by what Maimonides writes in his Commentary to Sanhedrin 7:4
ואשה שאינה נשואה מותר למי שאינה ערוה עליו ליהנות בהסתכלות בצורתה, ואין איסור בכך אלא בדרך הצניעות והפרישות מן המותר כדי שלא יכשל באסור
[14] This is how she is described on the title page. Incidentally, R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai has an entry for “rabbanit” in his Shem ha-Gedolim. He lists there a few learned women. When Azulai uses the term rabbanit, it does not mean “rebbetzin” but “female rabbi”. I am sure that there are those who would object to Hida that these women were never “ordained”. Yet Hida also includes many others who were not ordained, but I don’t think anyone would take the title of “rabbi” away from them. One such figure was Moses ben Maimon.
I know that some in the Modern Orthodox world do not like the modern title “rabbanit” or “rebbetzin.” It bothers them that rebbetzins have a title which comes to them only by virtue of whom they married, and yet learned women who are not married to rabbis are not given any title. However, the practice of calling a woman by her husband’s title actually has biblical precedent. See Isaiah 8:3: “And I was intimate with the prophetess and she conceived.” Here Isaiah is speaking about his wife. As Radak and Ibn Ezra point out, the wife of a prophet is called a prophetess even if she herself never received prophecy. (Rashi, Is. 7:14, disagrees, but I think the peshat is in accord with Radak and Ibn Ezra.) Also, let us not forget the notion that אשת חבר כחבר, which in modern times I assume works in reverse as well. (As to why there is no obligation to stand up for a rebbetzin, as is done with her husband, see R. Yitzhak Yosef’s recent Shulhan ha-Maarekhet, vol. 2, p. 248, ma’arekhet heh no. 17. Here R. Yosef states that all agree that standing up for an אשת חבר is only midat hasidut and that there is no halakhic obligation. He also quotes that Hida that after the death of a rebbetzin’s husband, it might not even rise to midat hasidut. Yet in his Kitzur Shulhan Arukh 242:19, R. Yosef states the exact opposite: מצוה לקום מפני אשת חבר, ואפילו אחר מות בעלה מצוה לקום מפניה)
Would it be so hard for Modern Orthodoxy to come up with a title recognizing those women who are talmidot hakhamim? I am not referring to a title that has anything to do with the practicing rabbinate, as we have seen how divisive that is, but simply a way to acknowledge achievement (which would also bring the recipients certain practical benefits).
The RCA has recently reaffirmed its support for women’s Torah study: “In light of the opportunity created by advanced women’s learning, the Rabbinical Council of America encourages a diversity of halakhically and communally appropriate professional opportunities for learned, committed women, in the service of our collective mission to preserve and transmit our heritage.”
I am curious as to how this will work in the real world. Before this statement was issued, I was told by a learned woman that a Modern Orthodox high school refused to hire her to teach Talmud. They told her that they thought these positions should only be held by men. I wonder, would the typical Modern Orthodox high school, where girls are taught Talmud and halakhah by men, ever hire a woman to do this as well? And if yes, would she ever be allowed to teach these subjects to boys or to a co-ed class? If the answer is no, I think that this should be made very clear. It is not fair to encourage all these women to study advanced Talmud and halakhah if at the end of their studies they find that there is a glass ceiling. If it is true that there will be no jobs for them, then they should be told this up front.
The RCA should also explain what positions are “communally appropriate”. Is it ever appropriate for a woman to give a shiur in Humash to the community (men and women)? If yes, what about a shiur in Talmud or halakhah? If yes, can such a woman answer halakhic questions? The purpose of the advanced Talmud study programs for women at Stern and elsewhere should also be explained. Are they only Torah li-Shemah, or is there some expectation that these women will be given the opportunity to make use of their knowledge in the Jewish community? (For R. Nachum Eliezer Rabinovitch’s recent defense of the Yoatzot Halakah, see his Siah Nahum, no. 60. He even has no problem with the Yoatzot actually “poskining” she’elot)
Basically, Modern Orthodoxy opened up a can of worms when it sanctioned advanced Jewish education for women. It has not yet found the way to make this work without creating controversy on the one side and dashing expectations on the other.
               
[15] For sources on the permissibility of hearing a woman lecture, see the outstanding young scholar R. Yonatan Rosman’s Taher Libenu (Staten Island, 2009), pp. 138-139. Hardal Orthodoxy has many of the same issues as the haredim. I was surprised to see that R. Shmuel Eliyahu, Chief Rabbi of Safed and one of the leaders of the hardalim, who is extremely stringent in matters of tzeniut (to the extent that he holds that women’s pictures should not be published), actually sang before hundreds of young women. He did this during sefirah no less. Even though the event took place on Rosh Hodesh Iyar, since when does Rosh Hodesh affect the sefirah restrictions? Presumably, the heter was for kiruv purposes. See his performance here.
[16] He also doesn’t deal with Moed Katan 3:9, which shows that in Mishnaic days a woman led the wailing: “The woman speaks up and all respond after her.” Along these lines, it is very interesting to see how haredi and hardal authors deal with Ta’anit 4:8, which describes how young women in search of husbands would dance in front of the young men. (In a future post I will discuss whether they did so also on Yom Kippur or only on the 15th of Av.) Many assume that this didn’t raise any tzeniut problems, because in the days of the Second Temple the young men were at a much higher level than today. They could be trusted not to set their eyes on beauty but on spiritual traits, which were somehow best conveyed through the women’s dancing . . .
According to R. Shimon Schwab, in ancient days the women danced in circles, which was more modest than what occurs today. It was therefore permitted for the men to gaze upon them. See R. Yitzhak Abadi, Or Yitzhak, vol. 2, p. 251. You can be sure that today, no matter how modest the dancing, it would be regarded as a violation of tzeniut for the men to watch the women.
[17] To give just one example, see R. Hayyim Eleazar Wachs, Shem ve-She’erit le-Nefesh Hayah, no. 13, who discusses a “holy man” who was completely celibate with his wife for the last fifteen years of her life.
[18] Regarding how women were viewed as lustful, the Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 22:18, states:
אלמנה אסורה לגדל כלב מפני החשד
Rashi, Avodah Zarah 22b s.v. lo,  explains the underlying Talmudic passage: שמא תתאוה ותרביענו עליה
This is, to put it mildly, not a very sympathetic view of woman’s nature, and I daresay that of the mentally deranged people who are into this stuff, a much higher percentage are men (as seems to be the case with all such perversions). Tosafot, Bava Metzia 71a s.v. lo, completely disregards Rashi’s reason, and assumes that there is no actual prohibition. According to Tosafot, there is a concern not with what the woman will actually do, but what people will say about her. From our perspective, this too is strange. We assume, with good reason, that when it comes to matters of sexual morality, the generations have declined, and yet today no one would ever dream of insinuating anything improper about someone who has a dog, even if the person is regarded as completely dissolute. I also can’t imagine any rabbi suggesting to a widow that she get rid of her dog, because what woman wouldn’t be insulted by such a request? Hundreds of years ago, R. Yitzhak Lampronte already noted that this law of the Shulhan Arukh was ignored. See Pahad Yitzhak, s.v. almanah, p. 73a:
והאידנא לא ראיתי מוחים באלמנה מלגדל כלב, אולי דעתה לא נחשדו ישראל על כך
Yet see R. Haggai Levy, Ginat ha-Egoz, no. 79, who rejects Lampronte, and states that even a female divorcee is forbidden to have a dog. I am curious, however, why there is no distinction made between owning a male or female dog.
[19] The letter is found in Orhot Rabbenu, vol. 5 pp. 29-31. Portions of it first appeared in print in R. Nathan Drazin’s 1989 book, Zivug min ha-Shamayim, pp. 110-111. Since Drazin is trying to present what he regards as a healthy attitude towards sex, it is understandable that he quotes the Steipler’s letter. Yet Drazin’s discussion is not entirely accurate. For example, in dealing with the somewhat ascetic approach of the Kitzur Shulhan Arukh, Drazin states that is directed towards
גדולי תורה אשר הגיעו לדרגה גבוהה ויכולים למצוא את סיפוקם במישור הרוחני, וכל זה בהסמכתה המלאה של האשה ובמחילה בלב שלם אך לא לאנשים בינוניים.
When confronted with the approach of the Kitzur Shulhan Arukh, the proper answer by Drazin should have been that this work represents a tradition that is not suitable for modern people, or that other gedolim disagree. But to state that something in the Kitzur Shulhan Arukh is directed towards gedolei Torah and not the masses is simply a distortion. The Kitzur Shulhan Arukh is the halakhic work for the masses par excellence, and has been printed hundreds of times in various languages. If there is any work which is not directed towards the gedolim, it is the Kitzur Shulhan Arukh.
With regard to the Kitzur, we can see a reflection of the decline in Jewish learning in that abridgements of the Abridged Shulhan Arukh were published. One such example is R. Israel Kanovitz, Hayyei ha-Yehudi (New York, 1929. This book describes itself as:  תמצית הס’ קצור ש”ע מהר”ש גנצפריד
In fact, this book was itself abridged. See Ve-Hai ba-Hem (Montevideo, 1956).
[20] Since it is a shame for anything written to go to waste, here is what I wrote in 2003 for the website hebrewbooks.org when it was still in its infancy. In those days the site only focused on American rabbis. Shortly after writing the letter, the focus of the website changed, meaning  my piece was no longer suitable. I publish it here for the sake of posterity
The history of Orthodox Judaism in the United States in the years before World War II still awaits careful study. Many, in fact, are under the misconception that until the 1930’s the United States lacked great Torah scholars. The truth is that already at the turn of the twentieth century, there were many outstanding Torah scholars who had settled here. Had they remained in Europe it is likely that some of them would now be well known in the Torah world. 
For a variety of reasons these rabbis were forced to leave Russia and Europe and travel to a new land. They ended up in communities throughout the country. Although it is hard to imagine it today, there were world-renowned scholars in such places as Omaha, Nebraska, Burlington, Vermont, and Hoboken, New Jersey. These were men who lived in the wrong place at the wrong time, and their communities did not appreciate the greatness that dwelled within them. The challenges of the new land were indeed difficult and unfortunately, many of these rabbis’ children did not follow the path of their fathers. 
The works of these rabbis, in addition to being major contributions to Torah literature, are also priceless historical documents. They reflect a time, unlike today, when Orthodoxy was on the defensive, appearing to many to be on its way out. After their deaths, these rabbis were forgotten as were their books. Thanks to the miracles of modern technology, and the indefatigable efforts of Chaim Rosenberg, this situation is being rectified. The Torah writings of these forgotten American rabbis are now being made available. Those who peruse these works will see the learning and dedication of our American sages. They will see how these rabbis grappled with challenging halakhic problems, and how they attempted to offer religious inspiration to their congregants. It is they, the “Gedolei America,” who laid the groundwork for Orthodoxy in the United States, and for this we are all grateful.
[21] See here.
[22] See here.
[23] For R. Yuval Sherlo’s recent pesak (which should have been obvious to anyone) that it is not regarded as lashon hara to negatively review a book, see here.
[24] See R. Zvi Schachter, Nefesh ha-Rav, pp. 234-235.
[25] In this post I quoted R. Mark Urkowitz’ recollection of how R. Gorelik viewed the importance of YU. Subsequently, Urkowitz wrote to me that he recalls just about verbatim the language of Gorelik. R. Yerucham prefaced the remark with something to the effect that he always makes negative comments about YU. He then added:
אבער איר זאלט וויסען אז דאס איז די איין אונד איין איינזיגער מקום תורה אין אמריקא ווייל נאר פון דא גייען די בחורים ארוים צו זעהן אז עס זאל בלייבען ידישקייט אין די לאנד



German Orthodoxy, Hakirah, and More

German Orthodoxy, Hakirah, and More
Marc B. Shapiro
1. I recently published a translation of Hirsch’s famous lecture on Schiller. You can see it here.
At first I thought that this lecture remained untranslated into English for so long because of ideological concerns. (I still think that this is the reason it was never translated into Hebrew.) Yet before the article appeared, I was informed that the reason it did not appear in the English translation of the Collected Writings of Hirsch was not due to ideological censorship, but censorship of a different sort (see the article, note 2). I will let readers decide if this was a smart choice or not. I plan on publishing another translation from Hirsch which has also never appeared in English or Hebrew, and which many people will regard as not “religiously correct” for the twenty-first century.
With regard to the Schiller lecture, I thank Elan Rieser who called my attention to the following: Hirsch quoted Schiller as saying about a plant, “What it [the plant] unwittingly is, be thou of thine own free will.” It so happens that this very thought also appears in the Nineteen Letters, Elias translation, p. 56: “The law to which all forces submit instinctively and involuntarily—to this law you, too, are to subordinate yourself, but consciously and of your own free will.” This shows that even in his earliest work, Hirsch was influenced by Schiller.
While on the topic of non-Jewish writers influencing German rabbis, here is another example which might lead some to wonder if we have crossed the line from influence into plagiarism. (I do not think so, as I will explain.) Rabbi Marcus Lehmann (1831-1890) was a well-known German Orthodox rabbi. He served as rabbi of Mainz and was founder and editor of the Orthodox newspaper Der Israelit. Apart from his scholarly endeavors, he published a series of children’s books, and is best known for that. These were very important as they gave young Orthodox Jews a literature that reflected traditional Jewish values and did not have the Christian themes and references common in secular literature. Yet despite their value for the German Orthodox, R. Israel Salanter was upset when one of Lehmann’s stories (Süss Oppenheimer) was translated into Hebrew and published in the Orthodox paper Ha-Levanon. Although R. Israel recognized that Lehmann’s intentions were pure and that his writings could be of great service to the German Orthodox, it was improper for the East European youth to read Lehmann’s story because there were elements of romantic love in it. This is reported by R. Isaac Jacob Reines, Shnei ha-MeorotMa’amar Zikaron ba-Sefer, part 1, p. 46. Here is the relevant passage:
והנה ברור הדבר בעיני כי הרה”צ רמ”ל כיון בהספור הזה לש”ש, ויכול היות כי יפעל מה בספורו זה על האשכנזים בכ”ז לא נאה לפני רב ממדינתינו להעתיק ספור כזה שסוף סוף יש בו מענייני אהבה.
This passage is followed by another, which was made famous by R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg in Seridei Esh, vol. 2 no. 8. This is Weinberg’s well-known responsum on co-ed groups. He describes how R. Israel Salanter visited R. Esriel Hildesheimer and saw him giving a shiur in Tanakh and Shulhan Arukh before young women. R. Israel commented that if a rabbi from Lithuania would institute such a practice in his community they would throw him out of his position, and rightfully so. Yet he only hoped that he would be worthy enough to share a place in the World to Come with Hildesheimer: הלואי שיהי’ חלקי בג”ע עם הגה”צ ר”ע הילדסהיימר.
Weinberg doesn’t say where he learnt of this story, but it comes from Reines, who heard it directly from R. Israel Salanter. Yet Weinberg’s recollection was not exact. Before World War II, Weinberg had access to Shnei ha-Meorot, and he refers to it in his essay on Reines (Seridei Esh, vol. 4, p. 355, originally published before the War). After the War he no longer had access to this book, and thus was not able to check R. Israel Salanter’s exact words. Although, based on Weinberg, people often repeat Salanter’s comment that he hopes for a share of the World to Come together with Hildesheimer, he never actually said this. Here are his words, as recorded by the only witness, Reines, and I hope that from now on the great R. Israel Salanter will be quoted accurately. (The passage in the parenthesis is a comment from Reines himself.)
הלכתי לבקר גם את ביה”ס אשר לבנות, ששמעתי שגם שם מגיד הרה”ג הנ”ל [הילדסהיימר] איזה שעור, ומצאתי שבחדר גדול ורחב ידים עומד באמצע שולחן גדול וסביב השולחן יושבות נערות גדולות, והרה”ג הנ”ל בראש השלחן מגיד לפניהם שעור בשו”ע (הוא אמר לי אז גם באיזה הלכה שאמר להם אבל שכחתי) והוסיף לומר בזה”ל “ברור הדבר בעיני כי כוונת הרב היא לש”ש, וגם נעלה הדבר בעיני מכל ספק, כי כל התלמידות האלה השומעות לקח מפיו תהיינה לנשים כשירות, תמלאנה כל המצות שהנשים חייבות בהן, תחנכנה ילדיהן על דרכי התורה והאמונה, באופן שיש לומר בוודאות גמורה ומוחלטת כי הרה”ג הנ”ל עושה בזה דבר גדול באין ערוך, בכ”ז ינסה נא רב במדינתינו לעשות ב”ס כזה, הלא יקראו אחריו מלא ומן גיוו יגרשוהו; ואין ספק כי יהי’ מוכרח לנער את חצני’ מן הרבנות כי לא תהלמו עוד”, כל הדברים האלה דבר הרה”ג הצדיק הנ”ל בהתרגשות מיוחדה והתלהבות יתירה
Returning to Lehmann, one of his short stories is titled Ithamar. Eliezer Abrahamson called my attention to the fact that chapter 17 tells the same story as is found in Lew Wallace’s classic American novel, Ben-Hur, Book 3, chs. 2-3. I prefer to call this “borrowing”, rather than plagiarism, since Ben-Hur was a worldwide sensation and Lehmann was not trying to hide his borrowing. At that time, any adult reading Lehmann’s book would know what he was basing the chapter on, and that he was providing a Jewish version of certain episodes. In fact, the name of the main character of Lehmann’s book, Ithamar (not a very common name), is also the name of the father of the main character of Ben-Hur (Judah ben Ithamar ben Hur). By naming his character Ithamar, Lehmann was signaling his debt to Wallace.[1]
Regarding Lehmann’s stories, in the 1990s they also appeared in a censored haredi version. Ha-Modia actually published an article attacking this “reworking”. Here it is, followed by the response. (You can right-click to open larger images, or download it as a pdf here.)

I found these on my computer and don’t remember anymore how I got them (and unfortunately, there is no date visible on the articles). Click them to enlarge.

2. Not too long ago Hakirah 13 (2012) appeared, and as with the previous issues, it is a great collection of articles. The other Orthodox journals have to ask themselves why Hakirah has been so successful in overshadowing them. I think the answer is obvious. Hakirah is not afraid to take risks in what they publish. They don’t mind rocking the boat a bit, and dealing with controversial matters. I want to respond to two articles in the issue. The first is R. Elazar Muskin’s piece in which he discusses a 1954 Yom ha-Atzmaut event in Cleveland, which featured R. Elijah Meir Bloch, the Rosh Yeshiva of the Telz yeshiva. From the article one sees that Bloch had a positive attitude towards the State of Israel. Before reading further, I suggest people look over Muskin’s article again, so you can best appreciate that which will follow. You can find the article here.
Muskin notes that Bloch’s letter justifying his appearance at the Yom ha-Atzmaut event was published in R. Joseph Epstein’s 1969 book Mitzvot ha-Shalom. Although there have been many books that express a positive, or tolerant, view towards Zionism, anti-Zionist extremists chose to focus on this volume. Muskin quotes Gerald Parkoff who wrote as follows in a letter published in the Torah u-Madda Journal 9 (2000), p. 279:

When the first edition of the Mizvot ha-Shalom was published, the unsold inventory, which represented most of the extant copies, was kept in Rabbi Epstein’s garage. As it turned out, the sefer came to the attention of some misguided people[2] who were particularly upset with Rabbi Epstein’s association of Rabbi Eliyahu Meir Bloch with Yom ha-Azmaut. They proceeded to burn the first edition of Mizvot ha-Shalom in Rabbi Epstein’s garage. Subsequently, the perpetrators of this dastardly act were found and brought to a Satmar Bet Din. Financial restitution was then made to Rabbi Epstein.

As Parkoff notes, when the next edition of the work was published, Epstein took out Bloch’s letter, so as not to have another confrontation with the extremists. Yet something doesn’t make sense. Why would Satmar (or Satmar-like) extremists care about a letter from Bloch in Epstein’s book? What does this have to do with them? The extremists certainly had no interest in defending the honor of an Agudist whose ideology is rejected by them just as they reject the Mizrachi position. So why would they care about Epstein’s book at all?
If you compare the first edition of Mitzvot ha-Shalom to the second edition, the answer is, I think, obvious, and it has nothing to do with the Bloch letter. Pages 605-624 from the first edition are omitted in the second edition. The first few pages of this is Bloch’s letter, but beginning on p. 612 there is a section titled “Al ha-Geulah ve-al ha-Teshuvah.” This section is a rejection of R. Joel Teitelbaum’s views (in which, by the way, Epstein refers to the writings of R. Zvi Hirsch Kalischer, R. Yissachar Shlomo Teichtal, and R. Menachem M. Kasher). The very title of the section is an allusion to the Satmar Rav’s book, Al ha-Geulah ve-al ha-Temurah. While Epstein’s views are expressed respectfully, it is easy to see why the extremists would have gone after him, as a means of upholding the honor of their Rebbe. They presumably also saw the following passage, p. 611, as directed against the Satmar Rav, and even if it wasn’t directed against him personally, it is certainly directed against his followers.
אמנם השטן מרקד בין תלמידי חכמים על תלמי הפירוד והפילוג בישראל להטיל קטטיגוריא ביניהם, עד כדי השמצת שמות אהלי תורה ויראה, ועד כדי הורדת כבוד גדולים ארצה בכתבי פלסתר והוצאת דיבה, ללא חשש הלבנת פנים, וחטא מבזה תלמיד חכם, ונמצאים נכשלים בחטאים יותר חמורים מאלה שבאו לצעוק עליהם.
On p. 615 he writes as follows (even referring to the Satmar Rav’s views as “has ve-shalom”):
עיני גדולי וצדיקי הדור רואים נסים ונפלאות (ראה לעיל מבוא, מ”מ 32) – קול דודי דופק – אם אתחלתא דגאולה, אם רק פקידה, אם רק רמז רמיזה “מן החרכים” מאבינו שבשמים לריצוי, לפיוס – בהדי כבשי דרחמנא למה לן – איתערותא דלעילא הקוראת לאיתערותא דלתתא – וכי כל זה אך אור מתעה הוא חו”ש? (ראה “על הגאולה ועל התמורה עמ’ כ’ . . . )

I found a relevant “open letter” in the R. Leo Jung archives, File 2/1, at Yeshiva University. I thank the Yeshiva University Archives for permission to reproduce the letter here.

From this letter we see again that the issue had nothing to do with Bloch. Yet since there were other people attacking the Satmar Rav’s views during this time, I still think we need an explanation as to why these crazies decided to focus on Epstein. From the “open letter” it would appear that this was just another way to attack R. Moshe Feinstein, who wrote a haskamah for Epstein. In the “open letter” it states that if R. Moshe does not retract his haskamah then those behind the letter will take action. This action no doubt includes the burning of Epstein’s sefer.[3]

Here is how these wicked people expressed themselves, sounding just like mobsters:
משה’לע תדע שזה היא האזהרה האחרונה שאם לא תתחרט ברבים על ההסכמה שכתבת להספר הנ”ל לא נבוא עוד בכתב רק בידים נעשה מעשים נבהלים שתסמר שערות ראשך שתבוש להראות פרצופך הטמא.
Regarding R. Elijah Meir Bloch, he was a real Agudist, even serving on the U.S. Moetzet Gedolei ha-Torah. Yet his positive view of the establishment of the State of Israel is not unexpected. I say this because his father, R. Joseph Leib Bloch, Rosh Yeshiva of Telz and also rav of the city – the combination of rosh yeshiva and city rav was not so common [4] – appeared to be inclined to a type of Religious Zionism. Here is his letter to R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, published in the latter’s Li-Netivot Yisrael (Beit El, 2001), vol. 1.

 

I realize that R. Joseph Leib Bloch is usually portrayed as a strong anti-Zionist. This needs further investigation, but it could be that his opposition was only against secular Zionism and what he regarded as the Mizrachi’s compromises with the secular Zionists. From his letter, we see that he had a much different view of R. Kook’s Degel Yerushalayim.[5]
The letter above that of R. Joseph Leib Bloch is from R. Avraham Shapiro, the Kovno Rav, who unlike many other Lithuanian gedolim was a real opponent of Agudat Israel. (Another noteworthy opponent was R. Moses Soloveitchik.) Here is R. Shapiro’s picture.

R. Shapiro also was a supporter of Religious Zionism and a great admirer of R. Kook. Unfortunately, we don’t yet have a biography of his life. Those who want to know a little more about his attitude towards Zionism can see his 1919 letter to R. Kook in Iggerot la-Re’iyah, no. 94. Here he writes as follows:

החלטנו שבהמעשים הפוליטיים להשגת חפצנו באה”ק, כלומר העבודה לפני אסיפת השלו’, נלך ביחד עם הציונים שלא בהתפוררות כבאי כח מפלגה ומפלגה, כי אם כבאי כח כל העם העברים בסתם. למטרה זו נבחרה קומיסיה פוליטית לבוא בדברים עם הציונים, וכבר נעשה הצעדים הדרושים לזה. מקוה אני שתמצא הדרך להתאחדות הפעולות.
We see very clearly from this letter that the Kovno Rav supported working with the non-Orthodox Zionists in order to achieve the Zionist objective, which became a real possibility after the defeat of the Ottoman Empire in World War 1.
In a 1921 letter to R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, Iggerot la-Re’iyah, p. 557, the Kovno Rav refers to the Agudah paper Ha-Derekh in a mocking tone: כפי שראיתי מ”הדרך” לא-דרך. In this letter he tells R. Zvi Yehudah that it is important for the Orthodox in Palestine to be involved in the political process that was set up by the British Mandatory authorities. Yet instead of doing that, he claims that the Orthodox have turned a large portion of the women against them, alluding towards the Eretz Yisrael rabbis’ ruling forbidding women’s suffrage, a ruling which R. Avraham Yitzhak Kook was at the forefront of. Look at these words and remember that the one writing them was one of the greatest poskim of his time, the great rav of Kovno, not some minor Mizrachi figure:
האומנם חושבים הם את השתתפות הנשים לאיסור גמור המפורש בתורה שאין אומרים בו מוטב יהיו שוגגים כו’? לדעתי הסכילו עשה.
This opposition to women voting in Israeli elections has disappeared from the haredi world, for obvious political reasons. Yet examination of haredi writings leads to the conclusion that female suffrage is only a hora’at sha’ah, and that if the haredim ever became a majority the right to vote would be removed from women. But I think that this is more theory than reality, as I can’t imagine that even a haredi society would take this step as the backlash from women would be quite significant. As for the followers of R. Kook, do they also think that female suffrage is hora’at sha’ah and hope for a day when the vote will be taken away from women, for all the reasons R. Kook offered? Based on a recent statement by R. Aviner, it appears that for some of them the answer to this question is yes.
The Kovno Rav ends his letter to R. Zvi Yehudah with these strong words against Agudat Israel:
כנראה אסע אי”ה בקרוב בשביל צרכי צבור ללונדון. כמובן לא בשביל אגודת-ישראל. כנראה אחר כ’ את האספה בפ”ב. מה דעתו עליה? אנכי בכוונה לא נטלתי חלק בה, לפי שכל מעשיהם עד עכשיו אינם רצוים בעיני ואינם בדרך האמת. הדו”ח של רוזנהיים לא הי’ אמת. הקומיסא הפוליטית איננה יודעת מאום מאשר עשו ולכה”פ אנכי איני מסכים על כל דרכיהם שהזיקו רק להאורטודקכסיא ולא לאחרים. אני אומר זאת לכל מפורש מבלי התחבא בהשקפתי.
I mention the Kovno Rav’s opposition to Agudat Yisrael not only for its historical significance, but also because it brings us back to a time when Agudat Israel actually did something other than put on a big Daf Yomi celebration every seven years.[6] There was a time when Agudat Israel tried to accomplish great things, so there was reason to oppose it by those who thought that it was moving in the wrong direction. Today, however, what is Agudat Israel? There was a time when it was a movement, and today it is a lobbying organization, pure and simple, and without much influence at that. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t even have a website or a journal. You sink into oblivion, only to be remembered in another seven years at the next Siyum ha-Shas.
In a 1931 letter to R. Kook, Iggerot la-Re’iyah, no. 273, the Kovno Rav asks R. Kook if he agrees with him that a world congress of rabbis should be convened – אספת רבנים עולמית . I mention this only because in later years it became almost an article of faith in the haredi world that such rabbinic gatherings were absolutely forbidden. The fear was that the gatherings would make decisions at odds with the haredi Daas Torah. The only way to make sure that their followers would not attend these gatherings, where they might actually hear different viewpoints, was for the haredi leaders to ban these gatherings.[7] This is as good an example of any of how the haredi leadership uses its rabbinic “muscle” for political goals. If someone were to ask on what basis can one state that it is forbidden for rabbis with different viewpoints to gather to discuss issues, the answer is obviously not going to be that the Talmud or Shulhan Arukh says it is forbidden. It is forbidden because the gedolim say it is forbidden, i.e., Daas Torah.
R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg writes as follows about the Kovno Rav (Kitvei ha-Rav Weinberg, vol. 2, p. 234):
ועלי להעיר כי הגאון דקאוונא שליט”א הוא אחד מגדולי הדור בזמננו, אחד המוחות היותר טובים שבתוכנו. ואעפ”י שאנשים ידועים משתדלים להשפילו ולהמעיט את ערכו, מ”מ אי אפשר להחשיך את אור תורתו וחכמתו.
What does Weinberg mean when he speaks of those who oppose the Kovno Rav and try to minimize his importance? Who are these people and what led them to this judgment of the great Kovno Rav? Let me thicken the plot. The late R. Tovia Lasdun wrote to me as follows: “Kovner Rav was a great person, but his views did not always meet the views of the Orthodoxy [!]”[8] By “Orthodoxy” he meant Lithuanian yeshiva world Orthodoxy. From what we have seen already, namely, his anti-Agudah stand and the other points I noted, one can begin to understand why there would be opposition to the Kovno Rav from yeshiva circles.

R. Jeffrey Woolf recorded the following story about the Kovno Rav. He heard it from an eyewitness and it is very illuminating.[9]

The pre-war Jewish community of Kovno (Kaunas, today) Lithuania was divided into different components, divided by the Neris River. On the one side was the general community, which was made up of every type of contemporary Jewish religious and cultural population. Indeed, the community was a bit notorious for a lackadaisical form of religiosity. On the other side of the Williampol bridge, was the famous Slabodka Yeshiva, a flagship of the Mussar Movement. As might be expected, relations between the two sectors were often tense. There was a saying attributed to the Alter of Slabodka, R. Nosson Zvi Finkel זצ”ל, that the bridge from Kovno to Slabodko only went one way.

Coping with the myriad of challenges, modernization and secularization in Kovno was its illustrious rabbi, R. Avraham Dov-Bear Kahana-Shapira זצוק”ל, author of the classic collection of responsa and Talmudic essays דבר אברהם, and known more popularly as the ‘Kovner Rov.’ One central concern of his was the alienation of young Kovner Jews from the synagogue. Thus, when the administration of the Choral Synagogue came to him with an intriguing approach to the problem, he jumped at it.

The idea was to have the synagogue’s cantor, the internationally renowned tenor Misha Alexandrovich, offer public concerts that would feature classical חזנות alongside renditions of serene Italian bel canto compositions. The hope was that this type of cultural evening would draw modernizing young Jewish men and women to the synagogue, where they would socialize and (perhaps) find mates. 

The first concert was a smashing success and more were planned. Everyone was thrilled, except for the heads of the Slabodka Yeshiva. They turned angrily to the Kovner Rov and demanded that he intervene to stop the concerts. They were indecent, the Rashe Yeshiva objected. The led to fraternization between men and women, and in the synagogue. Worse still, they might corrupt yeshiva students.

The Kovner Rav listened quietly, and then firmly rejected the Yeshiva’s objection. “You are responsible only for your yeshiva,” he asserted. “I am responsible for the spiritual welfare of all of the Jews of Kovno.” The concerts, he declared, would continue.

Returning to R. Elijah Meir Bloch, there is another relevant source and that is found in Chaim Bloch’s Dovev Siftei Yeshenim. (There was no familial relationship between the two Blochs.) As we have discussed numerous times, one can’t believe anything that Bloch wrote, and all of the letters of gedolim he published must be assumed to be forgeries. However, this only applies to the letters he published of deceased individuals, but the letters he published of living figures are indeed authentic. In vol. 1 (1959), p. 392, he published a letter he received in December 1944 from Jacob Rosenheim, the president of World Agudat Israel, then living in New York. Chaim Bloch had written to him asking on what basis the Agudah was now supporting the establishment of a Jewish state. Rosenheim replied that this policy was based on the decision of the “gedolei ha-Torah.” He also mentioned that this support was dependent on two important points. (1) The State had to be run according to Torah, and (2) that the new State would be accepted peacefully by the Arabs. He states that if the Arabs and the world governments agree to the establishment of the State, then there is no prohibition of שלא ימרדו באומות. He also adds that there is no prohibition to establish a state without a Temple, i.e., a State before the coming of the Messiah.
Chaim Bloch strongly rejects Rosenheim’s words, and declares that based upon what Rosenheim writes, there is now no difference between the Agudah and the Mizrachi. This was exactly the claim of the Edah Haredit in Jerusalem, and eventually it and the Agudah would go their separate ways.
The end of Rosenheim’s letter is of interest to us, because after stating that he personally doesn’t believe that in the current (end of 1944) circumstances there is any chance of a Torah state, he adds that R. Eliezer Silver and R. Elijah Meir Bloch do think such a Torah state is possible. I don’t know what this says about the political acumen of Silver[10] and R. Elijah Meir Bloch, but it shows that R. Bloch had a very optimistic view of the religious development of the future State.
Rosenheim concludes his letter by stating that, unlike Silver and R. Elijah Meir Bloch, “we” (by which he must mean the rest of the Agudah leadership) regard the creation of a State as a real catastrophe. Rosenheim and the others assumed (correctly) that the non-religious would be the majority and that this would create a very difficult circumstance for Orthodox Jews. Their preference was that the land remain under British control, with religious freedom given to all. Rosenheim’s comments today appear surprising, but we must remember that from the perspective of most Agudists, nothing was worse than having a secular “Hebrew State”. Many of them assumed that Zionist control of the Land of Israel would lead to anti-religious measures (which turned out to be correct in some instances). Others might even have believed that the Zionists were to be suspected of wanting to kill the Orthodox![11]
Regarding R. Elijah Meir Bloch, let me call attention to one more interesting source. In the volume Yahadut Lita, vol. 2, pp. 234-235, Bloch contributed an article on Agudat Israel, in which, as mentioned, he was very involved. In this article he says the following, which fits in very well with what we learn from Muskin’s essay (I have added the emphasis).
“אגודת ישראל” בליטא, כמו מרכז “יבנה”, התענינו גם בהפצת הדיבור העברית והשתמשו בטקסיהם בדגל הכחול-לבן, שכן סיסמתה של ה”אגודה” בליטא היתה ללחום רק נגד הדברים שהם בניגוד להשקפתה, אבל לא נגד דברים נכונים כשלעצמם, אף שאחרים דוגלים בהם בדרך מנוגדת להשקפת העולם החרדית. סיסמתנו היתה שכל דבר טוב שייך לנו, אף שאחרים הרימוהו על נס, ונקבל את האמת ממי שאמרו. אדרבה, בזה יכולנו לרכוש את דעת-הקהל לצדנו בהיות מאבקנו רק נגד הדברים שהם בניגוד למסורת.
As Bloch says, the approach of the Lithuanian Agudah was not to oppose something just because it was supported by the non-Orthodox. Just because the non-Orthodox spoke in Hebrew in their schools and used the blue and white flag didn’t mean that the Orthodox had to avoid these things. (I have to admit that for Agudah members to use the blue and white flag strikes me as very strange, as from its beginning this was a Zionist flag, not a flag for the Jewish people as a whole.)
In his article, Bloch describes how in the 1930s two hundred Agudah halutzim went on aliyah, after hakhsharah at Tzeirei Agudah kibbutzim in Lithuania. Sounding very Zionistic, he notes that among them were those who took part in defense of the yishuv against Arab attacks: ופעלו במסירות למען בנין הארץ.[12]
* * * *
In a previous post I asked two quiz questions. No one was able to answer no. 1, which means that the prize will remain for the winner of a future quiz. These were the questions.
1. Tell me the only place in the Shulhan Arukh where R. Joseph Karo mentions a kabbalistic concept? I am referring to an actual concept e.g., Adam Kadmon, Ein Sof, etc.
2. If more than one person answers the above question correctly, the one who answers the following (not related to seforim) will win: Which is the only United States embassy that has a kosher kitchen?
Nachum Lamm and Ari Zivotofsky both got the answer right for no. 2. The embassy is in Prague and the ambassador is Norman L. Eisen. I had the pleasure of davening with him every morning on my trip to Prague last summer. You can read about him here.
Now let’s turn to the question no. 1. The first thing to note is that there are many halakhot in the Shulhan Arukh. If R. Joseph Karo was a mystic, as in the title of Werblowsky’s book on him,[13] one would expect to see evidence of this in the Shulhan Arukh, and also in the Beit Yosef. Yet we don’t have this, and references to the Zohar and even basing halakhot on the Zohar have nothing to do with whether one should be thought of as a mystic. By the 16th century the Zohar was a canonical text, so referring to it says nothing about whether one is a mystic, neither then nor today.
However, we know that R. Joseph Karo was a mystic because of his book Magid Meisharim, which recounts his visions of a heavenly figure, who taught him over many decades.[14] Interestingly, R. Leopold Greenwald denied that Karo wrote this book. He attributes it to an anonymous לץ.[15] This reminds me of something I noted in an earlier post. See here where I mention how Abraham Samuel Judah Gestetner denies that R. Jacob Emden wrote Megilat Sefer, his autobiography. Gestetner claims that it could only have been written by a degenerate maskil! (There is no doubt whatsoever that Emden wrote the work.)
Despite the fact that the Shulhan Arukh does not generally mention kabbalistic ideas, there is one place, and only one place, where he indeed does so. It is in Orah Hayyim 24:5, where he states that the two tzitzit in front have ten knots, which is an allusion to the ten Sefirot:
כשמסתכל בציצית מסתכל בשני ציציות שלפניו שיש בהם עשרה קשרים רמז להויות

* * *

I am happy to report that this summer, God willing, I will once again be leading Jewish history-focused tours to Central Europe and Italy. (A trip to Spain is being planned, but will not be ready by the summer.) For information about the trip to Central Europe, please see here.
Complete information about the Italy trip will will soon be available on the Torah in Motion website.

To be continued

[1] With regard to Ben-Hur, there are at least eight different Hebrew translations, and they all censor Christian themes in the novel. See Nitsa Ben-Ari, “The Double Conversion of Ben-Hur: A Case of Manipulative Translation,” Target 12 (2002), pp. 263-302.
[2] Why such lashon nekiyah? I can think of many more appropriate ways to refer to such criminals.
[3] In the introduction to Iggerot Moshe, vol. 8, p. 27 (written by the sons and son-in-law), it states that some Satmar hasidim would come to R. Moshe for advice and to receive blessings. But on p. 26 it also records as follows:
בגלל עמדת האגודה לגבי ארץ ישראל וההתנגדות החריפה של חסידות סטאמר לעמדה זו, הוחלט אצלם לתקוף את רבנו ופסקיו (כך ספרו לרבנו אנשי נטורי קרתא בירושלים כאשר היה שם בשנת תשכ”ד). כמטרה להתקפה זו נבחרו תשובותיו בעניין הזרעה מלאכותית ושיעור מחיצה של עזרת נשים. מחלוקת זו שלא היתה לאמיתה של תורה גרמה לרבנו עגמת נפש מרובה. התקפות אלה לא היו רק באמצעות מאמרים ותשובות, אלא גם בהתקפות אישיות חירופים וגידופים, מעשי אלימות, איומי פצצות, הטרדות טלפוניות ושריפת ספריו.
[4] His father-in-law, R. Eliezer Gordon, also held both positions, as did his son, R. Avraham Yitzhak Bloch (who was martyred in the Holocaust). Although in the U.S. the Telz yeshiva adopted a very anti-secular studies perspective, this was not the case in Europe. R. Joseph Leib Bloch was very involved with the Yavneh day school system in Lithuania, which incorporated secular studies (and also Tanakh), and in the context of Eastern Europe can be regarded as a form of Modern Orthodox education. It is also significant that in Yavneh schools Hebrew was the language of instruction for all subjects. The preparatory school (mekhinah) of the Telz yeshiva also contained secular studies (which the government insisted on if students wanted to be exempted from the draft).
The graduates of Yavneh attended universities, in particular the University of Kovno, and they had an Orthodox student group named Moriah. By the 1930s, Lithuania had begun to produce an academically trained Orthodox population. Had the Holocaust not intervened, much of Lithuanian Orthodoxy would have come to resemble German Orthodoxy. This is important to realize since people often assume that Bnei Brak and Lakewood are the only authentic continuation of Lithuania, when nothing could be further from the truth. What R. Ruderman attempted to establish in Baltimore was, speaking historically, the true successor of the pre-War Lithuanian Orthodox society’s dominant ethos. (I am speaking of Orthodox society as a whole, not the very small yeshiva population.)
In speaking of R. Joseph Leib Bloch, Dr. Yitzhak Raphael ha-Halevi Etzion, the head of the Yavneh Teacher’s Institute in Telz, writes as follows:
בדברי על הגימנסיה העברית לבנות “יבנה” בטאלז ובהזכרי על החינוך בעיר בכלל אינני יכול שלא להזכיר את דמותו המופלאה והדגולה של הרב ר’ יוסף ליב בלוך זצ”ל, רבה של טאלז וראש ישיבתה. אחד הרבנים הגדולים והקנאים ביותר של ליטא – היה הראשון שהבין את הנחיצות של חינוך עברי דתי-מודרני לבנות ולבנים.
See “Ha-Zerem ha-Hinukhi ‘Yavneh’ be-Lita,” Yahadut Lita, vol. 2, pp. 160-165.
R. Shlomo Carlebach wrote as follows, after describing the creation of the Kovno Gymnasium, a Torah im Derekh Eretz school established by R. Joseph Zvi Carlebach (Ish Yehudi: The Life and the Legacy of a Torah Great, Rav Joseph Tzvi Carlebach (Brooklyn, 2008), pp. 74, 76):

The Kovno Gymnasium left a deep impression upon the Lithuanian Torah leaders, who could not help but notice the enthusiastic response to the Torah im Derech Eretz educational approach on the part of students and parents. They realized that this approach caused no compromise in Yirat Shamayim. The enormous upheaval in the political and social structure of Jewish society throughout the land, in the aftermath of war, threatened the stability and loyalty of Jewish youth. Under those circumstances, these Torah leaders felt an urgent need to introduce a similar educational program, on a broad scale, by reorganizing existing schools and establishing new ones, where subjects in Derech Eretz would be taught alongside Limuday Kodesh.

At the behest of the Telzer Rav, Rav Joseph Leib Bloch, a world-renowned gaon and Rosh Yeshivah of the equally renowned Telzer Yeshivah, Dr. [Leo] Deutschlaender, director and guiding spirit of the Keren Hatorah Central Office in Vienna, was summoned to Kovno to organize, in consultation with the Rav [Joseph Zvi Carlebach] such an educational system, to be called Yavneh. . . . At its conclusion, he published a summary of the “Yavneh educational project” in the “Israelit”. He reported that separate teachers’ seminaries for men and women had been established in Kovno, in addition to “gymnasium-style high schools in Telz, Kovno, and Ponevesh, and approximately 100 elementary schools spread throughout the land.”

It is interesting that when the late, unlamented, Jewish Observer published a review of this book by R. Yosef Gavriel Bechhofer, the editor felt constrained to insert the following “clarification,” knowing that its readers would be shocked to learn that Lithuanian Torah Jewry was not an enlarged version of Lakewood.

The best part of this “clarification” is the final sentence. I wonder, why does such a careful scholar and talmid hakham as Rabbi Carlebach need to have his book vetted by “gedolei Torah and roshei yeshivos”, who for all their talmudic learning are not known as experts in historical matters? Since the Agudah gedolei Torah and roshei yeshivot are prepared to cover up historical truths (as seen in their signing on to the ban of Making of a Godol), why in this case did they agree to allow the masses to learn what really was going on in Lithuania? Is it because they too feel the need to change the direction of American haredi Orthodoxy to a more secular studies friendly perspective, and this could help set the stage for this?

Returning to Telz, the question remains why Telz in Cleveland adopted such an extremely negative outlook regarding secular studies? Maybe a reader can offer some insight. R. Rakeffet has reported that R. Samuel Volk of YU, who was himself an old Telzer, commented that Telz in Cleveland distorted what Telz in Europe was about.

An interesting story about the Cleveland Telz was told to me by Rabbi M.C., a Cleveland native (and YU musmach). He was at the Telz high school and upon graduating decided to go to YU. R. Mordechai Gifter summoned M.C.’s mother and told her that if her son goes to YU, within a few months he will no longer be religious. She then angrily demanded that R. Gifter return to her all the years of tuition she had paid. She said: “If you tell me that after all the years my son has studied here, it will only take a few months at YU before he becomes non-religious, then the education you offer must be pretty lousy, and I want my money back!”
R. Dov Lior recalls that R. Zvi Yehudah Kook had a similar reaction when at a meeting of roshei reshiva with Minister of Defense Shimon Peres a haredi rosh yeshiva claimed that putting yeshiva students in the army could lead to them becoming non-religious (Hilah Wolberstein, Mashmia Yeshuah [Merkaz Shapira, 2010], p. 296):
הרכין הרב צבי יהודה את ראשו כולו בוש ונכלם. הרי צבא ישראל, צבאנו הוא, ולא צבא הפריץ הנוכרי, ולכן חובה עלינו להשתתף בו. זאת ועוד, האם המטען שהבחורים קיבלו בישיבות אינו חזק דיו שיש לחשוש כל כך לקלקולם?
[5] See his Shiurei Da’at (Tel Aviv, 1956), vol. 3, p. 65 (in his shiur “Dor Haflagah”), where we see that he was also opposed to messianic Zionism, so it appears that he didn’t really understand R. Kook’s ideology.
הגאולה אי אפשר להביא על ידי תחבולות בני אדם ואי אפשר לדעת אותן, נעלה ונעלם הוא ענין הגאולה, ולכן תבא בהיסח הדעת, כי לא ידעו בני אדם אל נכון איזה מצב הוא הראוי לגאולה.

[6] In all the discussions recently about the success of Daf Yomi, I didn’t see anyone note that one of the reasons this success is so surprising is that the whole notion of Daf Yomi goes against what for many years was the outlook of the rabbinic elite. The Shakh, Yoreh Deah 246:5, quoting the Derishah, states that laypeople should not only study Talmud but also halakhah, which he thinks should be their major focus as practical halakhah is שורש ועיקר לתורתינו. It is not hard to understand the point that since a layperson’s time is limited, he will get more out of his learning by focusing on practical material. If, for example, one has an hour a day to learn, what makes more sense: to go through hilkhot Shabbat or to study Talmud? While people today prefer Talmud, the Shakh prefers halakhah, and I don’t know of any rabbinic figures in years past who disagreed with the Shakh. This Shakh is also mentioned in the introduction to the Mishnah Berurah. While it is obvious that one who has time to learn both Talmud and practical halakhah is in the ideal circumstance, how did we get to the situation where those whose time is limited are now encouraged to focus on Talmud? The credit (or blame, depending on your outlook) for this development can, I think, be laid at Artscroll’s door, for Artscroll made learning Talmud exciting for the masses, in a way that halakhah is not, and maybe can never be.
Daf Yomi is so revolutionary precisely due to its democratic ethos, that everyone is welcome to study that which used to be the preserve of only the elites. Much like American universities opened up higher learning to the masses, and created a situation where for the first time in history texts such as Plato and Aristotle were now taught (or spoon-fed) to all, so too, for he first time in history, Daf Yomi allowed Talmud to become a product of mass consumption.
[7] See e.g.. R. Eleazar Shakh, Mikhtavim u-Ma’amarim, vols. 1-2, no. 111.
[8] Rabbi Rakeffet has reported the following story that he was told by R. Bernard Revel’s widow, Sarah. When the Kovno Rav was in New York he was at some gathering with Revel. Revel told him that he had to excuse himself as he had yahrzeit and had to go recite kaddish at a minyan, The Kovno Rav replied: “You also believe in that?” The implication was that the notion of saying kaddish on a yahrzeit was folk religion, not something that Torah scholars take seriously. Mrs. Revel was shocked when she heard the comment, but Rakeffet is probably correct that this was an example of Lithuanian rabbinic humor.
[9] See here.
[10] I heard from a Holocaust survivor that in 1946 Silver came to Kielce. Dressed in a military uniform, he gave a speech telling the people to remain in Poland in order to rebuild Jewish life there. The man who told me this thought that Silver’s speech was directed against the Mizrachi. (Silver was in Poland on July 4, 1946, the date of the infamous Kielce pogrom, yet I don’t know if his visit to Kielce was before or after the pogrom.) Silver was not a chaplain, but rather an emissary of Agudat ha-Rabbanim and Vaad Hatzalah. “The American government agreed to Silver’s wearing an Army uniform so its insignias would add to his protection in areas where anti-Semitism was still rife.”Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff, The Silver Era (Jerusalem/New York, 2000), p. 228.
[11] It has been reported that R. Moshe Sternbuch claims that he was told by R. Velvel Soloveitchik that his father, R. Hayyim, once expressed fear of not being left alone with a religious Zionist. He was worried that the latter would kill him, since the Zionists are suspected of shefihut damim. See Mishkenot ha-Ro’im, vol.1, p. 271, quoting Om Ani Homah, Sivan 5732. (I don’t know if Sternbuch is being quoted accurately, but I can’t imagine that R. Hayyim would ever have said this about a religious Zionist. A number of his own students and relatives were religious Zionists!). The exact same fear was, according to Moshe Blau, expressed by R. Joseph Rozin, the Rogochover:
הלא הם [הציונים] חשודים על הכל, הם חשודים גם על שפיכות דמים
See Yair Borochov, Ha-Rogochovi p. 70. (After the killing of Jacob de Haan, this viewpoint was given some basis.) See ibid., where Blau also quotes the Rogochover as saying that the reason he stopped publicizing his anti-Zionist views was because he was asked to do so by his daughter, who was married to R. Yisrael Abba Citron, the rav of Petah Tikvah. Citron was a Mizrachi supporter and it was creating problems for him that his father-in-law was attacking the Zionist movement. Regarding Citron, see the fascinating book-length biography of him that appears at the beginning of his volume of hiddushim, published in 2010.
[12] As Eliezer Brodt noted in his last post, Bloch’s son, R. Yosef Zalman Bloch, Be-Emunah Shelemah (Monsey, 2012), pp. 115-116, quotes a strongly anti-Zionist and anti-Mizrachi letter of the elder Bloch, attempting to leave the impression that when it came to this issue his father had a completely negative attitude. However, as we have seen, the truth is more complicated. In general, Y.Z. Bloch’s book is quite a strange mix of wide learning combined with unbelievable nonsense, a point alluded to much more gently by Brodt. On the very page that he quotes his father’s view of Zionism, he tells us that one who does not believe that God’s individual providence encompasses everything in the world, even the animals, insects, falling leaves, etc. הרי הוא כופר בעיקר, ואין לו חלק לעוה”ב. He says that the sages in earlier times who didn’t have this perspective were tzadikim and they are at present in Olam ha-Ba, but today, after the matter has been “decided” by the Masorah, holding such a position is heretical. Leaving aside the question as to why he feels he is a prophet and can in bombastic fashion declare who has lost his share in the World to Come (something he is fond of doing in this book), does he not realize how many great Torah scholars from even recent generations he has (inadvertently?) condemned as heretics?
This is all so obvious to me that I don’t see any need to cite “authorities.” But for those who want this, let me offer the following. A few years ago, an author writing in Mishpahah asserted that one who believes that animals are not subject to individual providence, it is like he is “eating fowl with milk” (which is a lot less severe than Bloch’s judgment that such a person is a heretic with no share in the World to Come). R. Meir Mazuz, Or Torah, Tamuz 5769, pp. 867-868, responded to this strange assertion by citing many authorities who indeed held this position, and he mentions nothing about it being “rejected by the Masorah.” He concludes:
אבל אטו מי שסובר כדעת הרמב”ם והרמב”ן והרד”ק ורבינו בחיי וספר החינוך ומהרש”א והרמ”ק ומהר”י אירגאס והגר”א נקרא אוכל בשר עוף בחלב?
A large section of Bloch’s book is designed to show that the only acceptable Torah belief is that the sun, planets, and stars revolve around the earth. As for Copernicus, he refers to him as קופירניקוס הרשע שר”י (p. 351 n. 36).
Among his nuggets of wisdom is that astronomy is the most heretical, and anti-Jewish, of all the sciences. P. 387 n. 1:
וצריכה למודעי, דספרי חכמת התכונה גרעי טובא יותר מכל שאר ספרי חכמתם, שמלאים אפיקורסות ושנאת הקב”ה ר”ל, שנאת דת יהודית, ושנאת האמת, שטויות ושגעונות, עד שיש להתפלא מה טעם יהיו “חכמיהם” וספריהם האלו כל כך מטופשים ומלאי ארס הכפירה יותר מכל שאר ספרי חכמיהם.
Since, as he states, these scientists are not only heretics but also stupid fools, one can only wonder how they were able to figure out how to put a man on the moon.
On p. 331 he refers to the view of R. Jacob Kamenetsky (without mentioning him by name) that the first four chapters of Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah are not to be regarded as Torah but as פילוסופיא בעלמא. See Emet le-Yaakov (New York, 1998), pp. 15-16. Bloch sees this as absolute heresy, and he quotes R. Yehudah Segal of Manchester as saying that even if the Hatam Sofer or the Noda bi-Yehudah said this, we would not accept what they said, and would be forced to reinterpret their words. Bloch quotes this approvingly, and this illustrates the problem. He is so locked into his dogmatic assumptions that his mind is closed and doesn’t want to be confused with the facts.. If most people were shown an explicit text of the Hatam Sofer or Noda bi-Yehudah that diverges from their dogmatic assumption, they would conclude that their assumption of what is “acceptable” needs to be revised. But Bloch refuses to even acknowledge the possibility that people greater than him might have a different perspective on what constitute the fundamentals of faith.
Bloch advocates this approach even when it comes to the rishonim (p. 117):
ואפילו מה שכתבו עמודי העולם הראשונים ז”ל, אם אינו מתאים עם האמונה הפשוטה הברורה שבה”אני מאמין”, וכפי שנמסרה לנו ה”אני מאמין” מאבותינו ואמותינו הצדיקים והצדקניות, הַניחו אותה בקרן זוית.
On p. 336 Bloch goes further than merely rejecting the Copernican outlook that earth revolves around the sun. He also denies that the earth rotates on its axis. According to him, it is a Torah truth that the earth stands still: שהארץ עומדת על עמדה ואינה זזה כלל.
The absolute craziest thing he says, in a book filled with absurdities, is that the sun, moon, and all the stars [!] revolve around the earth every twenty-four hours!:
שהשמש והירח וכל הכוכבי-לכת וכל הכוכבים וכל צבא השמים סובבים יחד את כדור הארץ בכל עשרים וארבע שעות.
I  guess it is a neat trick that stars so many light years away (i.e., trillions of miles away) are able to circle earth each day. (Our galaxy alone has hundreds of billions of stars.) But seriously, is one supposed to laugh or cry when reading this? How should one relate to a rabbi who so dishonors the Torah by claiming that this is Torah truth, and a required belief of any religious Jew?
On p. 289 Bloch writes:
והא דמצינו לפעמים שאחד מרבותינו הראשונים או אחד מגדולי האחרונים ז”ל אשר מימיהם אנו שותים, אמרו על איזה אגדתא שזה גוזמא, תדע לנכון דלא משום שח”ו לא הרכינו ראשם לכל הנאמר בגמרא, וחשבו שמה שרחוק מהמציאות שלעינינו בהכרח יתפרש רק כגוזמא, אלא דכך היתה קבלתם דזה המאמר המובא בתלמוד לא נאמרה מעיקרא כפשוטה אלא כגוזמא.
Everything in this sentence is incorrect, and is contradicted by numerous explicit statements in rishonim and aharonim.
[13] Joseph Karo: Lawyer and Mystic (Oxford, 1962)
[14] Regarding why R. Joseph Karo doesn’t mention the maggid in his halakhic writings, see Eliezer Brodt, Likutei Eliezer (Jerusalem, 2010), pp. 106ff. As usual, Brodt shows incredible erudition.
[15] Kol Bo al Avelut (Brooklyn, 1951), vol. 2, p. 31, in the note. Greenwald elaborates on this position in Ha-Rav R. Yosef Karo (New York, 1953), ch. 8.



The Satmar Rebbe and a Censored Mishnah Berurah, and R. Baruch Rabinovich of Munkács

The Satmar Rebbe and a Censored Mishnah Berurah, and R. Baruch Rabinovich of Munkács

Marc B. Shapiro

1. In my recent interview in Der Veker, available here, I said that I hope to discuss how the Satmar Rebbe was mistaken in identifying a Zionist censorship in the Mishnah Berurah.

In Ha-Maor, Elul 5716, p. 30, M. Abramson tells the following story that appears under the heading על זיוף המשנה ברורה. The Satmar Rebbe was away from home and asked his assistant, R. Joseph Ashkenazi (who is the source of the story), to bring him a book. Ashkenazi brought the first book that came to his hand. It was a Mishnah Berurah printed in Israel. After investigating the history of the printing of the Mishnah Berurah at the National Library of Israel, I concluded that the copy the Satmar Rebbe was given was published by Pardes in 1955 (one year before the event described). Here is the title page.

Later the Rebbe returned the book to Ashkenazi and said that as far as he remembers, the language in section 156 of this copy of the Mishnah Berurah differs from what appears in other editions. Ashkenazi checked an older edition of the Mishnah Berurah and discovered that the Israeli edition had altered the original text.

The original Mishnah Berurah 156:4 reads:

מצוה על כל אדם לאהוב את כ”א מישראל כגופו שנא’ ואהבת לרעך כמוך וכו’ ודוקא רעך בתורה ומצוות אבל אדם רשע שראה אותו שעבר עבירה המפורסמת בישראל ולא קיבל תוכחה מצוה לשנאתו.

I have underlined the words that Abramson calls attention to. While the original text reads: לאהוב את כ”א מישראל, the Pardes edition has לאהוב את עמיתו. Abramson notes, “In this they wanted to show their support for democracy, that one needs to love not just the Jews but also the Arabs.” The Pardes edition also omits the second series of words that I have underlined, which express sentiments that are not very tolerant of the irreligious,[1] as well as some other words.

Here is the uncensored page in the Mishnah Berurah.

Here is the censored page in the Pardes edition.

Upon looking again at the Abramson article, I see that I misremembered, as it does not actually say that the Satmar Rebbe attributed this censorship to the Zionist publisher. He simply noticed the problem in the Israeli edition and said that this Mishnah Berurah is not like the others he has seen. It is Abramson who explicitly blames the Zionists (although perhaps the Rebbe agreed with Abramson). Abramson sarcastically writes that apparently they also provide copies of the Mishnah Berurah “to the children of Mapai and Mapam,” and this explains why they altered and censored the text.

Yet the truth is that what we have just seen has nothing to do with the Israeli publisher, Pardes. I found the same censorship in a Mishnah Berurah that appeared in Warsaw in 1895, and interestingly, it is this very edition that is found on hebrewbooks.org here. In other words, the changes we have seen were inserted under Czarist rule, and the Israeli publisher simply reprinted a copy of the Mishnah Berurah without realizing that it was a censored version.[2]

I know of another example where the altering of a text was blamed on the Zionists, and this time the one doing the blaming was a Mizrachi rabbi, R. Avigdor Cyperstein. In the Mossad ha-Rav Kook Archive of Religious Zionism there is a letter from R. Cyperstein to Dr. Yitzhak Rafael dated May 14, 1967. The relevant section reads as follows:

ידידי היקר – אני רוצה לזכות אותך בזכות הרבים, ובטח לא תחמיץ את המצווה הזו: כעת בכל העולם נפוצים הסידורים תוצרת הארץ הוצאת “בית רפאל”, ת”א – “סדור התפלה השלם” – והנה מצאתי בסידור זה דבר נורא: במעמדות של יום הששי מובא הגמ’ מנחות מד. המעשה באדם אחד שהי’ זהיר במצוות ציצית וכו’ ושם כתוב “באה לבית מדרשו של ר’ חייא, אמרה לו רבי צוה עלי ויעשוני גיורת וכו’, – והמולי”ם הללו העיזו לשלוח יד בגירסת הגמ’, ובמקום ויעשוני גיורת – השליכו את הגיורת החוצה, והכניסו במקומה “עברית” . . . והמרחק-התהום בין גיורת לעברית – אין צורך לבאר, וגם כוונתם הטרופה, בוקעה מזה, ומעלה סרחון, בכי’ לדורות. דומני שאין מי שהוא שהעיז לכבוש את המלכה בבית וכל ישראל – מתפללים מסידור זה, וע”כ מצווה לפרסם זה ברבים, ולתקן בהוצאות החדשות.

It is hard to know whether what R. Cyperstein refers to was indeed a Zionist inspired alteration. I say this because the version ויעשוני עברית is also attested to in a few sources that pre-date Zionism. I think it is more likely that the publisher just assumed that this is a more authentic reading.

Since I have been discussing the Satmar Rebbe, here is as good a place as any to note that contrary to popular belief, the name Satmar does not come from St. Mary. The original meaning seems to be a personal name, and in popular etymology the word came to mean “great village.”[3] Yet even in the Satmar community some believe that the word comes from St. Mary, and because of this they pronounce it as “Sakmar”. In pre-war Hungary this pronunciation was common among many Orthodox Jews, not only Satmar hasidim.[4] For one example of this, here is Samuel Noah Gottlieb’s entry on Satmar in his rabbinic encyclopedia, Ohalei Shem (Pinsk, 1912), p. 425. As you can see, while “Szatmar” appears in the vernacular, in the Hebrew the city is spelled “Sakmar”. There are many more such examples.

This avoidance of saying the word “Satmar” is similar to the way Jews referred in Hebrew and Yiddish to the Austrian town Deutschkreutz. Unlike the case with Satmar, when it came to Deutschkreutz the universal Jewish name was Tzeilem (Kreutz=cross=tzelem). On the other hand, there was a significant Jewish community in the Lithuanian city of Mariampole, whose name comes from Mary. Yet I am not aware of anyone who avoided saying the name of this city. Shimon Steinmetz emailed me as follows:

We might also note other cities with Christian-y names, like Kristianpol. Kristianpoler was a name used even by rabbis, cf. Rabbi Yechiel Kristianpoler, and his son Rabbi Meir. In addition, the Lithuanian town Kalvarija, which has a very Christian association, Jews used it without any issue. On the other hand, the Jews called St Petersburg, “Petersburg,” without the “St.”

One other point about Satmar: In a lecture I mentioned that one of the old-time American rabbis met with the Satmar Rebbe and concluded that when it came to the State of Israel, you simply could not speak to him about it. He was like a shoteh le-davar ehad when it came to this in that no matter how much you tried to convince him otherwise, he refused to listen to reason. Someone asked me which rabbi said this. It was R. Ephraim Jolles of Philadelphia (as I heard from a family member). I don’t think his formulation is too harsh, as anyone who has read the Satmar Rebbe’s writings can attest. It does not bother me if he or anyone else wants to be an anti-Zionist. However, the anti-Zionist rhetoric found in the Satmar Rebbe’s writings, and those of his successors, is often more extreme than what we find among the pro-Palestinian groups. Take a look at this passage from Va-Yoel Moshe, p. 11.

אם נקח כל פירצות הדור והעבירות המרובות הנעשות בכל העולם וישימו אותם בכף מאזנים אחת, ומדינה הציונית בכף מאזנים השני’, [המדינה הציונית] תכריע את הכל, שהוא השורש פורה ראש ולענה של אבי אבות הטומאה שבכל אבות הנזיקין שבכל העולם כולו, והן המה המטמאים את כל העולם כולו.

By what logic can one claim that such an outrageous passage would be anti-Semitic if said by Mahmoud Abbas, Linda Sarsour, Tamika Mallory, or Max Blumenthal, but not so if the very same thing is said in Satmar?

If anyone wants to see the results of this rhetoric, here are two videos with kids from Satmar. In this one the children are being taught that the Zionists started World War II and to hope for the destruction of the State of Israel.


In this video children were told that Netanyahu was in the car and they were to throw eggs at it.

It is very painful to see how children are being indoctrinated with such hatred. Again I ask, if such a video surfaced from a leftist camp, there would be no hesitation in labeling it anti-Semitic. So why are people hesitant to conclude that Satmar is also involved in spreading anti-Semitism?

The general assumption is that the Satmar Rebbe hated Zionism and the State of Israel so much, that he was inclined to believe even the most far-out anti-Semitic canards against the State. I have always found this difficult to believe. Say what you will about the Rebbe, there is no denying that he was very intelligent. Thus, I have a hard time accepting that he could have really believed in Zionist control of the media and other anti-Semitic tropes found in his polemical writings. In other words, I think it is more likely that he did not believe in any of these things but said them anyway in order to convince his followers not to give up the fight against Zionism, a fight that had been abandoned by so many former anti-Zionists after the Holocaust and the creation of the State of Israel in 1948. In such a battle it was necessary to turn Israel not only into something bad, but actually the worst sin imaginable.

R. Nahum Abraham, a Satmar hasid and prolific author, has recently written that the Satmar Rebbe would deny things that he knew were true. He regarded his denials as “necessary lies,” in order to prevent people from being led in the wrong direction.[5] If the Rebbe thought that it was permissible to deny the truth of certain hasidic stories in order to prevent his followers from being influenced by them, isn’t it possible that he would exaggerate the evils of the State of Israel in order to best indoctrinate his followers with an anti-Zionist perspective?

This approach also would explain a big problem that no one has been able to adequately account for. How was the Satmar Rebbe able to have friendly and respectful relationships with people who, based on what he writes, he should have regarded as completely out of the fold due to their involvement with the State of Israel? This includes even men like R. Aharon Kotler who supported voting in the Israeli elections, which the Satmar Rebbe claimed is “the most severe prohibition in the entire Torah.”[6] Yet we know that the Satmar Rebbe respected R. Aharon and others who had a very different perspective.[7] Can’t this be seen as evidence that there is a good deal of ideologically-driven exaggeration in the Satmar Rebbe’s writings, and that not everything he says really reflects his actual views? After all, if he really thought that voting in the elections was the most severe prohibition in the Torah and the State of Israel was completely destroying Judaism, would he still be able to be on good terms with rabbis who instructed their followers to vote and be part of the State?

2. Since I mentioned Munkács in this post, let me return to another recent post here where I discussed R. Baruch Rabinovich, the son-in-law of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira and his successor as Munkácser Rebbe. When I wrote the post I was unaware of the fact that R. Baruch’s grandson, R. Yosef Rabinovich, recently published Ner Baruch, which is a collection of Torah writings and letters from R. Baruch. He includes in the volume the haskamot written by R. Baruch. I examined new printings of the volumes with haskamot that I was unaware of and found that R. Baruch’s haskamah to the first edition of R. Yitzhak Adler, Seder Shanah ha-Aharonah (Munkács, 1937) was deleted in subsequent printings. The same thing happened with R. Baruch’s haskamah to R. Judah Zvi Lustig’s Yedei Sofer (Debrecen, 1938). Here is how the page with the haskamot looks in the original printing.

Here is how the page with the haskamot looks in the reprint, where R. Baruch’s haskamah has been deleted.

Another point about R. Baruch: In 1946 he tried to become chief rabbi of Tel Aviv but lost out to R. Isser Yehudah Unterman. This is discussed in Samuel Heilman’s Who Will Lead Us? From a letter that appears in the archive of R. Isaac Herzog, and was sent to an unknown rabbi, we see that in 1950 R. Baruch was also interested in becoming av beit din in Tel Aviv.

This information is, to the best of my knowledge, not recorded anywhere else. In this letter, which I found here (a site that contains more interesting information and pictures about R. Baruch) we that R. Herzog, R. Unterman, and R. Yaakov Moshe Toledano were strongly opposed to R. Baruch receiving this appointment. Although the reason for this opposition is not mentioned, it is perhaps because they felt it was an abomination that someone from the anti-Zionist Munkács dynasty should have such a position in the State of Israel. However, as I have mentioned in my previous post, it is doubtful that R. Baruch ever really shared his father-in-law’s strong anti-Zionism. It is possible that the anti-Zionist statements he made in the pre-war years might not have reflected his actual beliefs but were due to his position as rebbe. That is, as the successor of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira he felt that he had to make such statements. It is also the case that had he not continued his father-in-law’s anti-Zionist stance he would not have retained much of a following in Munkács.

When R. Baruch wanted to become chief rabbi of Tel Aviv, a letter in opposition to this was published by Chaim Kugel, head of the Holon Municipal Council:

Is it conceivable that this man . . . who hounded Zionism and Zionists . . . who loyally continued the line of the Munkács court, which cursed and banned any Jew who pronounced the word Zion on his lips . . . is it conceivable that this man will appear as a representative and moral leader in the first Hebrew city, and be a guide to its residents and Zionists?[8]

In those days it was obvious that positions of chief rabbis of important cities would go to Zionist rabbis. Here, for example, is a letter to R. Unterman from David Zvi Pinkas, an important Mizrachi figure and signatory of Israel’s Declaration of Independence.[9] Note how Pinkas tells R. Unterman that the Mizrachi expects him to follow the Mizrachi approach in everything he does. If R. Unterman could not commit to this, then Pinkas would have found another rabbi who could.

In my earlier post I neglected to mention R. Baruch’s Hashav Nevonim that appeared in 2016. This book is full of interesting material, and the more I read from R. Baruch, the more impressed I am. He really was a fascinating figure in so many ways.

There is a good deal I can say about Hashav Nevonim, but let me just call attention to the first essay that appears in the book, focused on conversion. Conversion is a matter often in the news. I have said on numerous occasions that what currently passes as the standard approach to conversion was not the case at all in previous years. To begin with, among the rabbis there were different understandings of what kabbalat ha-mitzvot entailed, and the currently accepted view that a prospective convert must commit to become fully halakhically observant, as practiced today in Orthodox communities, was not the view of many, and perhaps not even the view of most. The notion that a conversion could be annulled after the fact was hardly ever put into practice, although even this is found on occasion and R. Baruch cites some authorities who speak about this very point. Thus, it is not, as has often been alleged, a modern haredi idea with no historical basis although, as mentioned, it was very rare.

After going through the various views on conversion, R. Baruch concludes as follows (p. 47).

מנהג העולם נראה כמקבל דיעה זו, וכל מי שנתגייר, בין ששומר מצוות, ובין שחוזר ועובר עבירות, דינו כישראל, כל שקיבל עצמו עול מצות עם גירותו.

I have underlined the words which are not currently accepted by many (most?) conversion courts and which are at the heart of the controversy regarding voiding conversions. Today, the assumption of many conversion courts is that if someone who converts is later seen violating halakhah in a serious way, we can assume that this person never really accepted the mitzvot at the conversion, and the conversion is therefore not valid. It is this argument which was hardly ever put into practice in previous years and now appears to be quite common, so much so that converts claim to feel that their conversions are always “on condition,” namely, that even many years after converting there is the possibility that the conversion will be declared invalid because of a lack of proper kabbalat ha-mitzvot.

On pp. 27-28, R. Baruch calls attention to the novel view of R. Isaac Benjamin Wolf, author of Nahalat Binyamin (Amsterdam, 1682), a book reprinted a number of times and which carries the haskamah by R. Jacob Sasportas. Here is the title page.

R. Isaac is described as rabbi of מדינת מרק. This refers to the German county of Mark, about which see here.

Here is page 89a in Nahalat Binyanim

According to R. Isaac, in places such as Spain and Portugal, where one could not practice Judaism openly, if a Jewish man marries a non-Jewish woman, and the woman chooses to practice Judaism, both she and her children are regarded as Jewish. How can she be Jewish when she never immersed in the mikveh and there was no beit din to preside over the conversion? R. Isaac says that there is no obligation to immerse in the mikveh when there is danger (as there would be in a place with the Inquisition looking to find Crypto-Jews). Although he does not elaborate, it is obvious that according to R. Isaac kabbalat ha-mitzvot in front of a beit din is not an absolute requirement. In other words, he holds that in a she’at ha-dehak one can convert on one’s own, without a beit din.

This is a fascinating position that is at odds with accepted halakhah, so much so that most people won’t even believe that such a position is possible. R. Baruch is not able to cite anyone who agrees with it. The position of Nahalat Binyamim is discussed by R. Eliezer Waldenberg, who not surprisingly completely rejects it.[10] However, he does cite a medieval view that has some similarity to Nahalat Binyamim:

היה מקום להביא סמוכין לזה משיטת האביאסף שהובא במרדכי ביבמות סו”פ החולץ שמפרש דברי הגמ’ שם שאומרת מי לא טבלה לנדותה שמשמע דבדיעבד הוי גר גמור גם בטבילה בלי ג’.

Unlike R. Waldenberg, R. Hayyim Amsalem, Zera Yisrael, p. 290, does not reject Nahalat Binyamin out of hand. Instead he writes:

חזו דברי גאון קדמון זה לאיצטרופי, ולדון להקל בבני האנוסים ובבני יהודים לענין גיורם וחזרתם לדת, שכל שימולו ויטבלו לשם יהדות בהודעת מקצת מצוות כהלכה, סגי להו אף לכתחילה, אע”פ שאנחנו לא יודעים מה שהיה אח”כ לענין קיום המצוות, וזה אתי אפי’ למ”ד קבלת מצוות מעכבת.

See also Jacob Sofer, Sipurei Yaakov (Lvov, 1913), vol. 2, pp. 7ff. (no. 42), for a lengthy story starring the Maharal. The tale is obviously fictional, but of importance for our purposes is that the story, reported in a hasidic text, tells of a woman who ran away from her non-Jewish husband and married a Jewish man, had children, and was a righteous woman. However, this woman never converted with a beit din, and yet on p. 8a it specifically states that she and her children are to be regarded as Jewish. R. Nahum Abraham points to this as an example of an anti-halakhic hasidic story that cannot be true.[11]

Finally, Nahmanides in his commentary to Yevamot 45b has an interesting view and I do not know if it is accepted.

ואיפשר לומר דגבי קבלת מצוות צריך שלשה אפילו בדיעבד דמשפט כתיב ביה מה התם שנים שדנו אין דיניהן דין אף כאן אינו גר אפילו בדיעבד, אבל מי שהודיעוהו מקצת ענשן של מצות ומתן שכרן של מצות וקיבל עליו בב”ד לטבול ולמול, אם הלך ומל וטבל שלא בפני ב”ד הרי זה כשר ולא פסלינן לזרעיה

3. There are many new books to speak about. One of them is Chaim I. Waxman, Social Change and Halakhic Evolution in American Orthodoxy. The content of the book can be seen from the title. I will be reviewing this book in an academic journal, so I do not need to speak about it here. I would, however, like to call attention to one point that will not be mentioned in my review. Chapter 5 is titled “Tensions Within Modern Orthodoxy.” Not surprisingly, it deals with women rabbis. On pp. 109-110, Waxman refers to R. Jeremy Wieder’s view on the matter (the name is misspelled “Weider”). He quotes from an article in the Yeshiva University Commentator, which summarizes R. Wieder’s position as follows: “[I]n light of the success of the yoetzet halacha program in increasing overall observance in the communities that he has observed, it may be very beneficial to have women rabbis.”

I was quite surprised to see such a liberal position expressed by a YU Rosh Yeshiva, and I checked the source which appears here. R. Wieder is indeed quoted saying, among other things, that there is no binding tradition on the matter of women rabbis since the issue of women in leadership positions is a new question, thus preventing the development of a “stream of Jewish tradition.” However, when I read the article I did not find anything about how it may be “beneficial to have women rabbis.” I then noticed the following at the beginning of the article. “Editor’s Note: This article has been edited to more precisely convey the opinions represented.” In this case, I think the meaning of “more precisely convey” is that what originally appeared was altered (presumably at R. Wieder’s request) in order to prevent controversy. Yet even with the removal of R. Wieder’s view that it may be “beneficial to have women rabbis,” the current text of the article does not alter the substance of R. Wieder’s opinion. Thus, we find the following:

Lastly, Rabbi Wieder talked about the issue from a philosophical standpoint. He argued that expanding the pool of rabbinic students could lead to an increase in qualified rabbinic candidates. Rabbi Wieder added that he has observed the yoetzet halacha program increase overall halachic observance in the communities it serves and he expressed his optimism that women rabbis could generate similar improvement.

These words are certainly in opposition to the OU’s recent statement on women and religious leadership which is available here.

The question I have been asked a few times is if in the current political climate it is possible for a rabbi at a mainstream Modern Orthodox synagogue, or a teacher at a mainstream Modern Orthodox school, to feel free to express support for the ordination of women. Would such a rabbi or teacher risk censure from his colleagues or even the possibility of losing his job? The answer to these questions will determine if we are dealing with a real wedge issue (as I think we are).

Another new book is R. Bezalel Naor’s Shod Melakhim. R. Naor is well known as an outstanding interpreter of R. Kook. His great knowledge of the entire scope of Jewish thought (not just R. Kook) is apparent to anyone who examines his writings. Yet I do not know how many are aware of R. Naor’s achievements when it comes to rabbinic literature. This latest book is a collection of R. Naor’s studies on various halakhot in the Mishneh Torah. As part of R. Naor’s explication of these halakhot, he offers the reader wide-ranging enlightening discussions using numerous sources, both traditional and academic. For those who can appreciate the synthesis of the traditional and the academic approaches to the study of Maimonides, R. Naor’s new book is a real treat.

In the past I have spoken about the late R. Mordechai Spielman’s great work on the Zohar, Tiferet Zvi. The seventh volume of Tiferet Zvi has recently appeared, and can even be purchased on Amazon. Anyone who is interested in how the Zohar has been interpreted, and the impact of the Zohar on later rabbinic literature, will benefit greatly from of R. Spielman’s writings.

A new book (over 600 pages) by Benjamin Brown has appeared. It focuses on the Karlin hasidic dynasty. When I received the book in the mail, the first thought that came to my head is that Brown is a phenomenon. There is no other way to put it. It is not just the quantity of his literary output that is astounding, but also the quality, as everything he writes is worth reading.

____________

[1] Regarding the Hafetz Hayyim’s view of the non-religious, which is very much at odds with current approaches in the Lithuanian yeshiva world (at least in America), see Benjamin Brown, “Ha-‘Ba’al Bayit’: R. Yisrael Meir ha-Kohen, he-‘Hafetz Hayyim,’” in Brown and Nissim Leon, eds., Ha-Gedolim (Jerusalem, 2017), pp. 127ff. Brown also shows that in a few letters the Hafetz Hayyim adopts a more moderate perspective.
[2] In future posts I hope to say a good deal more about the Satmar Rebbe’s writings. For now, let me just respond to someone who emailed me and compared R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira, the Munkácser Rebbe, to the Satmar Rebbe. It is true that they are similar in terms of their strong opposition to Zionism, and the Satmar Rebbe can be seen as the Munkácser Rebbe’s successor in this matter. However, in terms of their scholarly approach, they are quite different, as the Satmar Rebbe did not have the Munkácser’s critical sense. In fact, I was quite surprised to learn that the Satmar Rebbe accepted as authentic the forged anti-Zionist letters published by Chaim Bloch in his three volume Dovev Siftei Yeshenim. See R. Dov Schwartz, Meshiv Devarim (New York, 2011), pp. 140-141.
[3] See here.
[4] Shimon Steinmetz called my attention to סאקמאר appearing as the name of the city as early as 1859 in R. Hayyim Meir Ze’ev ha-Kohen, Sha’arei Hayyim (Pressburg 1859), in the list of subscribers at the beginning of the book. (You can find this on Google books, but the version of the book on hebrewbooks.org is missing these pages, as well as other pages.) This shows that referring to the city as “Sakmar” was already common. Steinmetz also called my attention to the same thing in the list of subscribers found at the end of R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, Kise Rahamim (Ungvar, 1870). In this case, you can see the subscribers in the copy on hebrewbooks.org, but it has been removed from the copy on Otzar ha-Chochmah. If this was removed intentionally, on the assumption that it is not really part of the sefer, it is a big problem, as the subscriber information can be of great historical importance. It is vital that both hebrewbooks.org and Otzar ha-Chochmah scan books in their entirety, without making any changes whatsoever.

R. Yoel Teitelbaum used the term Satmar all the time, and it was on his stationery, but I did find a number of places where he wrote Sakmar, spelled סאקמער and סאקמיר. See e.g., his approbations to R. Abraham Hayyim Reinman, Va-Yetze Perah (Satmar, 1940), R. Asher Steinmetz, Mikveh Yisrael ha-Shem (Jerusalem, 1961), and his letter in Divrei Yoel: Mikhtavim (Brooklyn, 1981), vol. 2, p. 81. See also Esther Farbstein, Be-Seter ha-Madregah (Jerusalem, 2013), p. 862, for a 1949 letter from Budapest to R. Yoel in which the word Sakmar is used. Shimon Steinmetz wrote to me as follows:

I think you can see by his [R. Yoel’s] correct spelling in Latin letters that he didn’t take it seriously, and perhaps not too many Jews did. After all, R. Joel Teitelbaum himself, who I think most people would consider fairly zealous, did not insist or use it very much. . . . This tells me that when people did call it Sakmar, most of them were probably just calling it that because it was already what Jews called it. Perhaps it was even a sly joke to begin with.

[5] Peti Ya’amin le-Khol Davar (n.p., 2017), p. 31
[6] Divrei Yoel, Mikhtavim, no. 90.
[7] In a future post I will publish a letter I received from Moshe Beck dealing with this point. Beck is the chief rabbi of the U.S. Neturei Karta.
[8] Translation in Heilman, Who Will Lead Us?, p. 45.
[9] The letter is found in the Israel State Archives, David Zvi Pinkas collection, 3070/15-פ.
[10] Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 17, no. 42:11.
[11] Heikhal ha-Besht 18 (Nisan 5767), p. 18. For an Arabic version of this story, see Bayit Neeman 96 (26 Tevet 5776), pp. 4-5.



The 1908 Student Strike at Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary: A Newly Discovered Document

The 1908 Student Strike at Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological
Seminary: A Newly Discovered Document
By Eli Genauer

I would like to thank Dr Zev Eleff for his invaluable assistance in helping me frame this article. I would also like to thank Sharon Horowitz of the Library of Congress for providing research assistance.

The Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS), present day Yeshiva University, was officially founded on March 20, 1897. RIETS was the first unequivocally Orthodox Jewish seminary on American soil.  Initially, its mission was entirely religious, limited “to promote the study of the Talmud and to assist in educating and preparing students of the Hebrew faith for the Hebrew Orthodox Ministry.”[1] RIETS’ first years were difficult ones.  It did not move into a building of its own until 1904.[2] Additionally, RIETS faced difficulty meeting its financial obligations.  including a student stipend. As a result, in 1906, RIET’s was beset by a major student strike. Among the student’s demands was that RIETS expand its mission beyond religious education and they demanded that they be instructed in secular subjects, including learning English.[3] While that strike was settled, another student strike and a lockout occurred over similar issues in May 1908. The strike was ended when changes were promised by the board of directors.  Yet, that settlement proved fleeting.
By August 1908, the students were striking again. The students’ strike received notice from the national press, when on August 19th,
the New York Times reported:[4]
the Talmuds are lying idle on the shelves of the Rabbi Isaac
Elchanan Theological Seminary at 156 Henry Street, and the drone of the voices
of the students as they walked back and forth reading aloud from the Hebrew
text is heard no more. For the last few weeks the students have not received
the $3.50 a week which they are paid while they are learning to become Rabbis.
Consequently, they have gone out on strike. Boruch Shapiro, Louis Mahler and
Samuel Broida, the leaders of the demonstration, stationed themselves at the
door of the school yesterday and effectively blockaded the entrance of all the
smaller boys. Nathan Lamport of the Lamport Manufacturing Supply Company, at
278 Canal Street, president of the school, and David Abramowitz of 47 Forsyth
Street, the Secretary, do not know what to do.[5]
On August 20th, citing financial reasons, the board locked out the students and
closed the school.[6] As a result of the closure of the school by the board of directors, some of the students and some Rabbinic leaders tried to form a new school called Yeshiva le-’Rabbanim which was designed to address some of the deficiencies of RIETS.[7]
Although the closure of the RIETS has been documented, the August 1908 student strike that led to the closure is not reflected in any published histories discussing the unilateral closing of the school and lockout of the students by the board ofdirectors on August 20th.[8]
One of the difficulties in piecing together exactly what happened during that August 1908 strike, lockout and its immediate aftermath is the dearth of contemporary records. This lacuna is in part attributable to a general lack of documntation of REITS’ early years.  And, “there are no records extant of the Seminary from its inception in 1897 to its merger with Yeshivat Etz Chaim in 1915. Only the Certificate of Incorporation, scattered newspaper accounts, one or two contemporary citations, and passing references in the memoir literature of the time remain as silent witnesses to the great vision and determination of a few men who…created the first Orthodox rabbinical seminary in America.”[9] As an example, in reporting on the August 1908 closure of the school by the board of directors and its aftermath, one scholar quotes mainly from newspaper accounts of the day.[10] There was an important memoir of that period written by Hayim Reuben Rabinowitz, who was an 18 year old student at the time, but Rabinowitz published his account 60 years later.[11]
Recently, however, a contemporaneous account of the events of 1908 has come to light.  This account was discovered as a result of construction at Congregation Bikur Cholim Machzikay Hadath in Seattle, Washington, when workers came upon a box of papers labeled, “Rabbi B. Shapiro Papers, 1920s-1960’s.” Rabbi Boruch Shapiro (1883-1970) was born in Szmorgon, Lithuania and was recognized as a Talmudic genius (Iluy) at an early age.[12] He was a student of, and received ordination from, Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, (Or Sameakh), one of the outstanding rabbinic leaders of his time.[13] While in Dvinsk, R. Shapiro also received ordination from Rabbi Joseph Rozin, known as the “Rogatchover Gaon”.[14]  R. Shapiro immigrated to America in the early 1900’s and visited Seattle in 1913 on a fundraising trip. His visit became permanent when he ended up marrying a local woman, Hinda Gershonowitz and remained in Seattle until his passing in 1970. Rabbi Shapiro is perhaps best remembered as the Rav of Congregation Machzikay Hadath in Seattle, a position he held for forty years.
Before arriving in Seattle and shortly after arriving in America, Rabbi Shapiro studied at RIETS. Because he already possessed rabbinic ordination, he was considered in a special class of students, receiving a higher weekly stipend than most others who studied there. [15] He was sent by the school to give lectures at a synagogue in Brooklyn during the Sukkot holiday of 1905 as an example of the quality of students that were studying in the yeshiva.[16]
The box of papers discovered contains Rabbi Shapiro’s account of the events surrounding the student strike in August 1908, and the subsequent founding of the Yeshiva Le’Rabbanim. The account was written on October 7th, 1908 and covers the period from August 20 until that time. Because Rabbi Shapiro was one of the three student leaders of the strike, his account is particularly relevant to filling in the picture of the details of the August 1908 RIETS student strike.[17] Rabbi Shapiro’s writings, it should be noted, reflect that he and his fellow students had been involved in a struggle with, in his view, a dysfunctional and stubborn board of directors for over two years.[18]
Rabbi Shapiro records that:
On Thursday night, 24 Av 5668(20 August 1908), the Rabbi Isaac
Elchanan Yeshiva was closed in a very unseemly fashion. Mr. [Jonathan] Shepp,
the treasurer of the Yeshiva called the police several times to evict the
yeshiva students from the building in which they learned.[19]
But despite all his efforts, the police declined to do harm to the students.
They remained there despite his displeasure until midnight and at that time
they left for their residences.”[20]
After the students of the Yeshiva had concluded that there was no
hope to improve both the physical and spiritual conditions of the Yeshiva due
to the obduracy of the leaders whose concern was only for themselves, the
students decided to separate from the above named Yeshiva and move to “Adas Bnei
Yisroel” at 213 East Broadway, which welcomed them with open arms.[21] On
28Av (25 August-1908), the students of the Yeshiva moved their place of Torah
study to the above mentioned address in the company of well-known rabbis, such
as Rabbi [Shalom Elchanan] Jaffee[22],
Rabbi [Chaim Sholom] Shoher[23],Rabbi
[Aaron] Gordon [24],
and others, who had gathered there to guide them. After much discussion, it was
decided that the yeshiva students would study temporarily in Adas Bnei Yisroel,
and that they would acquire a charter. So that the leaders of Yeshiva Rabbeinu
Yitzchak Elchanan would not collect money in their name, they decided that this
yeshiva would be called “Yeshiva L’Rabanim”. Similarly, they decided to send
out boxes to collect members and to try to establish this yeshiva on a proper
foundation.
From 28 Av 5668 until 12 Tishrei 5669, three meetings of well-known
rabbis and prominent lay leaders were held. At the second meeting, an interim
leadership team for Yeshiva L’Rabanim was chosen: Rabbi Jaffe, chairman; Rabbi
Shoher vice chairman and treasurer; Rabbi [Joseph Judah Leib] Sossnitz,
administrator;[25]
Rabbi Dr. Rabinowitz from Brooklyn, administrator; Rabbi [Judah Leib] Lazeroff,
administrator,[26]
and others. The job of developing a “program” both in religious and secular
studies for this yeshiva was also assigned to the above leaders.
Even before the closure of the Yeshiva Rabbi Isaac Elchanan, the
physical situation of the students was very bad because for seven weeks prior
to the closure, all they received was a half a kilogram of bread per week.
However, the situation since they left the Yeshiva until now was much worse,
and the poverty and embarrassment they suffered is difficult to describe. Many
of them could have found other means of support, but because of their love of
Torah, they accepted their lot and did not abandon Torah study with which they
had been engaged their entire lives.
Many Rabbis, in writing, speech and action, promised to help. From
all the promises very little materialized, aside from Rabbi Lazaroff, who had
spoken up a few times in his synagogue on behalf of the Yeshiva. He assembled a
worthy number of members from whom he collected funds. The prominent Mr.
[Abraham J.] Goldstein and his brother-in-law, Mr. [P.] Feinberg from Jersey
City came to the assistance of the Yeshiva in the beginning. [27]With
the help of other prominent members of their congregation who worked alongside
their honored Rabbi [Shlomo David] Posner, that synagogue supported the yeshiva
a bit.[28]
To describe in detail all the problems faced by this new endeavor
and the stumbling blocks that were placed in front of this new Yeshiva from the
beginning until now would amount to an entire book. The task was difficult and
the conflict with the administration of the Yeshiva Rabbi Isaac Elchanan
weighed heavily on us. Many did not want to support the students of the Yeshiva
since they saw that the “Morgen Journal” had “sold out” to those above
mentioned administrators to do their bidding. They also felt that the “Tageblatt”
was leaning in the direction of those administrators, and not on the side of
the Yeshiva L’Rabanim. Many rabbis knew and admitted that the yeshiva students
were right, but kept silent due to fear. So much so, even those who had joined
the new Yeshiva were not really able to help it.
The primary laborers on behalf of the new Yeshiva were the students
themselves and especially a student council that was chosen from among them to
lead the struggle. The five members of this council were Mr. A.[vraham]
Shapira, Mr.[Ben Zion] Perl, Mr. [Chaim Yechezkel] Mosesohn, Mr. [H.S.] Linfeld
and Mr. B.[aruch] Shapira who was the leader.[29]
The politics were so intense that oftentimes those in the Yeshiva did not
confide in their fellow students for fear that they were supporting the other
side. The council worked diligently with the three main activists, Rabbi B.
Shapira, Rabbi A. Shapira, and Rabbi Perl who were most instrumental.  They abandoned all their other pursuits such
as attending “Preparatory School,” working day and night to battle with the
administration of Yeshiva Rabbeinu Isaac Elchanan.  Nothing was too difficult for them or beneath
their dignity. Their physical situation was worse than the conditions of other
students, as they had no other means of sustenance and they also received a
more meager stipend compared to what they had been entitled to. They suffered
immensely during this time. They knew that they were making great sacrifices
and losing precious time. Nevertheless, they did not consider their own
personal situations so that they could help establish this new Yeshiva on a
proper foundation. There were times that matters grew so bad that many of the
yeshiva students echoed the complaints of the Jews in the desert: they wanted
to return to their previous Yeshiva, but thanks to many of the yeshiva students
and the student council, especially Rabbi B. Shapira, these complaints were set
aside and it allowed the Yeshiva to attain the status it claims today. The
result of what has been done so far is small compared to what needs to be
completed. Nevertheless, laying the foundation, which was the most difficult to
accomplish, has been done. More effort is required to establish this Yeshiva on
a firm foundation and to transform it into an excellent school that will train
great rabbis in Torah, wisdom, fear of Heaven; who will work within the spirit
of ancient Israel and the spirit of this new generation; and who will unite
both old and young, thereby bring blessing to our people, our Torah and our
holy faith.”
In the end, Yeshiva Le-Rabbanim did not exist for very long because it never had substantial financial backing and support from the general community.[30] The attempt to form an alternative yeshiva apparently did not deter some of the student dissidents to return to RIETS. In 1917, in a RIETS publication, Rabbi Baruch Shapiro and his brother Rabbi Abraham Shapiro along with Rabbi Ben Zion Perl are listed among those ordained by RIETS now serving as rabbis in America.[31] Even more curious, the strike leader Rabbi Baruch Shapiro went on a fundraising tour in 1917 to raise money for the Rabbinical College of America, one of whose components was RIETS.[32]
The strike’s impact, however, on one of the most important future leaders of RIETS and Yeshiva University was profound.  Chaim Rabinowitz wrote “The strikes stimulated the mind of a young Rabbi who had recently arrived in America. This young Rav was Rabbi Dov Revel.” Rabinowitz cites a letter that Dr. Revel wrote to Rabbi Zvi Masliansky in the spring of 1908, where he grieves about the turmoil in RIETS that Rabbi Masliansky had told him about and hopes for better days for the Yeshiva. Rabinowitz concludes “the dream of Rabbi Revel came to fruition in 1915 when he became the Rosh Hayeshiva…and instituted great changes in the order of studies.”[33]
Here is a sample page of the document:

 

 

[1]
“Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary Association Certificate of
Incorporation,” March 20, 1897, (quoted in Gilbert Klaperman, “Yeshiva
University:  Seventy-Five Years in
Retrospect,” American Jewish Historical Quarterly 54,1 (September,
1964), 6). William Helmreich, however, states that teaching “the language of
the land” and Talmud was articulated in the RIETS charter, and, as such, “the
first such mention of combining secular and religious studies in one
institution.”  William B. Helmreich, “Old
Wine in New Bottles:  Advanced Yeshivot
in the United States,” American Jewish History, 69, 2 (December 1979),
235.  But, the 1897 certificate does not
mention “language of the land,” and Helmreich’s assertion is without
citation.
[2]
Gilbert Klaperman, The Story of Yeshiva University: The First Jewish
University in America
(New York: Macmillan, 1969) 71-72.
[3]Alexander
Dushkin, Jewish Education in New York City (New York: Bureau of Jewish
Education, 1918), 77-78.
[4]
“Boys Go On Strike,” New York Times, August 19, 1908.
[5] The Times
report may have been the result of the RIETS’ students, who, to gain
sympathy to their cause alerted it to the unrest. See Klaperman, Story,
95
[6] The
most complete report on the student unrest from 1906-1908 can be found in Klaperman,
Story, 94-112.
According
to Rabbi Klaperman, the closure and lockout on August 20th was
reported by the Jewish Morning Journal on Friday August 21st,
1908 and the Judisches Tageblatt on Sunday August 23, 1908. Idem.
217n8.
[7] Gurock,
Men and Women, 40; Rabinowitz, “60 Shana,” 553; and Klaperman, Story,
118.
[8] There
are three discussions regarding the closure of RIETS on Thursday, August 20th,
1908
See Klaperman, Story, 111-12. There is no mention of a
strike immediately preceding the board’s action. Rabbi Klaperman does not cite
the Times article in any of his footnotes. Additionally, in footnote 21,
p.218, he writes that there was no clear picture of presidential succession of
RIETS between February 1906 and fall of 1908, despite an indication in the NY
Times article that Nathan Lamport was the president of the school in August of
1908.
The
second is Hayim R Rabinowitz’s recollections that appeared in Hadoar in
1968. Hayim R. Rabinowitz, “60 Shana le-Shvitot be-Yeshivat Rabbeinu Yitzchok Elchanan,”
Hadoar, June 14, 1968, 552-554. In 1908, Rabinowitz was an
eighteen-year-old student at RIETS, and writes at length regarding the
situation leading up to the closing of the school on August 20th,
with the resultant lockout of the students from the building at 156 Henry
Street, but does not mention that the students had been on strike immediately
preceding this event. Although Rabinowitz was a contemporaneous observer, his
reminiscences were only published sixty years after the events in question.
The third discussion is by Jeffrey Gurock.  Jeffrey Gurock, The Men and Women of
Yeshiva: Higher Education, Orthodoxy, and America Judaism
(New York:  Columbia University Press, 1988) 39-40. Citing
Rabinowitz, p.553, he writes “Frustrated, feeling that a double cross was in
the making, RIETS students were once again talking strike in the late spring
and early summer of 1908.” Gurock, however, does not mention that a strike and
blockade of the building took place in August as indicated by the headline of
the New York Times and in the subsequent article.
[9] Klaperman,
Story, 48.
[10] Idem, 217-19.
[11]
Rabinowitz, “60 Shana,” 552-554, quoted extensively in Gurock, Men and Women,39-41.
[12] The
Jewish American Family Magazine and Gazette (Amerikaner Familian Magazin un
Gazetten)
, vol. XXXIX, no. 47, September 19, 1941, 2.
[13]
Rabbi Meir Simcha was the author of “Ohr Sameach”, an important commentary on
Maimonides’ “Mishna Torah”, and of “Meshech Chochmah”, a commentary on the
Torah. Rabbi Meier Simcha wrote of Rabbi Boruch Shapiro “he has the ability to
formulate outstanding novella acceptable to all”. The Jewish American Family,
2.
[14]
Prior to coming to America, Rabbi Shapiro obtained letters of support from two
other leading rabbinic figures in eastern Europe, Rabbi David Hirsch Eisenstein
and Rabbi Shlomo Vilner. The Jewish American,2. Rabbi Vilner wrote that
he never gives ordination to one so young, but in the case of Rabbi Shapiro, he
was willing to make an exception.
[15]
Rabinowitz, “60 Shana,” 553.  Rabinowitz
also refers to Rabbi Shapiro as a “Gadol B’Torah”
[16] Klaperman,
Story, 62.
[17] The
New York Times article identifies him as one of the three student strike
leaders. See also, Rabinowitz, p.553 As early as 1906, R. Shapiro held a
leadership role.   He was among the four
students chosen to represent the students’ views before RIETS’ board of directors.  Rabinowitz, “60 Shana,” 553; The Jewish American,
2, which states that Rabbi Shapiro was chosen as a representative by the
students in dealing with the board.
[18] Regarding
the student’s relationship with the board of directors, Klaperman describes an interaction
between the students and the directors as follows: “The student’s
dissatisfaction and the obduracy of the directors brought about continuous
agitation in the school and highlighted the confusion of aims in the
curriculum” Klaperman, Story, 86.
[19] Klaperman,
Story,99 writes that in 1906, Jonathan Shepp was elected as the new
treasurer, and that Jonathan Shepp was part of the finance committee appointed
on August 31, 1908 to assist in reopening the school after it was closed on
August 20. Klaperman, Story, 99, 113.
[20] Gurock
indicates that the treasurer threatened to call the police, but that in fact
the police were never called.  Gurock, Men
and Women
, 40 (citing Rabinowitz, “60 Shana,” 553).
[21]
Regarding the address of the building to which the students moved, Rabbi
Shapiro was physically at this new address so it is reasonable to assume that
he recorded it correctly. Additionally, on June 3, 2015, there was an auction
of documents associated with the newly founded Yeshiva La-Rabbanim (Kedem
Auction No.8, Lot 301). One of the documents evidences a stamp which says 213
East Broadway. Rabbi Klaperman lists the address
as 123 East Broadway.  Klaperman, Story,
116, 219n38.
[22] Rabbi
Shalom Elchanan Jaffe (1858-1923) was an important early American Orthodox
Rabbi. He received Semicha from both Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin and Rabbi
Yitzchak Elchanan Spektor. He arrived in America in 1890 and served as a Rav in
St Louis and in Brooklyn before becoming the Rabbi in 1901 of the prestigious
Beth Midrash Hagadol synagogue on the Lower East Side of New York. He was one
of the most influential of Rabbis at the time, especially when it came to the
supervision of kosher meat. Jaffe’s motivations for his involvement with this breakaway
school, may have less to do with issues than his personality.  According to Klaperman, Jaffe was not one
wedded to the idea of secular education, one of the central demands of the
students. “On the other hand, Rabbi Jaffe was the stormy petrel on the rabbinic
scene, known as an impetuous non conformist who rushed in without fear when his
mind was made up.” Klaperman, Story, 117.
[23] Rabbi
Chaim Sholom Shochar (Rabbi H.S. Shoher) came to Boston in 1882 to be the Rabbi
of Bais Avraham synagogue and subsequently served as the Rabbi of Hadrath
Israel and Mishkan Tefillah among other synagogues in Boston. In 1905, he moved
to New York City to become the Rabbi of the prestigious Shaare Zedek synagogue
located at 38-40 Henry Street. In 1910, he is listed as living at 215 East
Broadway, next door to the location of Yeshiva Le-Rabbanim. He authored a
pro-Zionist book Shalom Yerushalyim in 1909 and passed away in 1918.
[24] Rabbi
Aaron Gordon (1845- 1922) known as the Miadziol (Myadel) Iluy, emigrated to
America in 1890 and was the chief Rabbi of Rochester, New York until 1900 when
he moved to New York City. He was one of the founders of the Agudath Harabanim
and served as head of a Bet Din on the lower east side. He served as the Rabbi
of Congregation Talmud Torah Tiphereth Jerusalem at 147 East Broadway. He was a
prolific writer, authoring many books on Halacha, among them Even Meir
(Pietrokov 1909), Teshuvat Meleat Even (Pietrokov 1912), Minchat Aharon
(Jerusalem, 1920) and Sha’arei Da’at (Jerusalem, 1921).
[25]
Rabbi Joseph Judah Leib Sossnitz (1837-1910) was born in Birzhi, district of
Kovno. He has been described as a Talmudic scholar, mathematician and
scientific author. He settled in New York in 1891 and in 1893, founded a Talmud
Torah on 104th street in Manhattan. In 1899, he was appointed a
lecturer in Jewish ethics at the Educational Alliance at 197 East Broadway.
[26]
Rabbi Judah Leib Lazarov (1875-1939), studied inTelz, Mir, Volozhin and Radin
before immigrating to America in 1898.He was hired as a preacher at Beth
Midrash Hayei Adam at 89 Henry Street in 1903 and succeeded Rabbi S.E. Jaffee
as Rabbi of Beth Midrash Hagadol in 1910. He authored a multi volume work Divrei
Yehudah
(New York, 1906-1910).
Except for Rabbi Dr Rabinowitz who was from Brooklyn, all the above
named rabbinic leaders were from the Lower East Side near both Rabbi Isaac
Elchanan Yeshiva on Henry Street and Yeshiva La’Rabanim on east Broadway. They
most likely would have been aware of the struggles of the students with the
board of the Yeshiva and had possibly allowed them to speak in their synagogues
during the May strike. See Klaperman, Story, 104. It is also possible
they were consulted by the students on an ongoing basis even before they tried
to start a new school.
[27] Abraham
J. Goldstein emigrated to America in 1884 and immediately settled in Jersey
City. One book, Distinguished Jews of America, (New York, 1917), describes
him as “a strict Orthodox Jew in every sense”, “one of the richest and most
prominent citizens of Jersey City”, and “a member of almost every Jewish
organization in Jersey City”. He owned a grocery wholesale business, was
president of the Erie Building and Loan Association, and was one of the largest
real estate owners in Jersey City.
[28] Rabbi
Shlomo David Posner (Rabbi S.D Posner) was a Rabbi in Jersey City, New Jersey,
for many decades. He signed his letters “Rav V’Av Beit Din” of Jersey
City.  He authored a book of homilies Eshed
Hanahar
(New York, 1932). In the introduction, he writes candidly about
being a Rabbi in America over many years. He was involved on a national level
in many Rabbinic organizations and he helped raise money for the Jewish
community in Palestine
[29] It
is interesting to note that Rabbi Shapiro refers to this group as Mr. but later,
refers to three of the group as Rabbi. The two Shapiro brothers and Ben Zion
Perl are referred to by Rabinowitz as having Rabbinic ordination already at
that time. Rabinowitz, “60 Shana,” 553.
The four referred to by Rabbi Shapiro aside from himself are:
(1) Rabbi Abraham Shapiro was the brother of Rabbi Boruch Shapiro.
Like his brother, Abraham already possessed Semicha from Eastern Europe at this
time. He later served as a Rabbi in Canton, Ohio and in Utica, New York. He was
considered to be a prominent Musmach of RIETS in later years.
(2) Rabbi Ben Zion Pearl served as a Rabbi in Harlem. He was the
director of the Uptown Talmud Torah Association which had 2,400 students in
1919. In 1925, he was involved in raising money for the building fund of Rabbi
Isaac Elchanan Yeshiva. He passed away in 1929.
(3) Rabbi Chaim Yechezkel Moseson came
from Lodz Poland, learned in the Yeshiva in Lomza Poland and received Smicha
from Rabbi Yechial Michal Epstein, author of the Oruch Hashulchon. He was the
principal of Yeshiva Torah Vadath, Mesivta Tiferes Yerushlayim, and other
Yeshivot. He wrote many articles for Dos Yiddishe Licht, a newspaper
financed by Cantor Yossele Rosenblatt.
(4) Harry Sebee Linfield
(1889-1978), was a rabbi and statistician. His Jewish Statistical Bureau
conducted research on Jews in America and published numerous reports and other
publications on their findings, specifically the Statistics of Jews. He was born in
Lithuania and came to the United States in 1905. He was awarded a PhD by the
University of Chicago in Semitic language in 1916, and the following year was
ordained a rabbi by the Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati
[30] Klaperman,
Story, 118.
[31] Idem.
262
[32] The
Reform Advocate
, December 29, 1917, p.501
[33]
Rabinowitz, “60 Shana,” 553-554.



Emek ha-Netziv : The Manuscript

Emek ha-Netziv : The Manuscript
by Gil S. Perl

Rabbi Dr. Gil S. Perl is dean of the Margolin Hebrew Academy/Feinstone Yeshiva of the South in Memphis. The following selection comes from his new book, The Pillar of Volozhin: Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin and the World of Nineteenth-Century Lithuanian Torah Scholarship.


The manuscript of ‘Emek ha-Netziv remains in the possession of the Shapira family and there are no additional extant copies. The family are prominent members of a staunchly traditionalist Ḥaredi community in the Geulah neighborhood of Jerusalem. Members of this community generally oppose sustained contact with Western culture and its representative institutions, including universities of any type. The Shapira family seems to harbor additional skepticism toward those researching Netziv , due to the fact that his relative openness to certain aspects of non-traditional culture has made him a controversial figure in some ultra-Orthodox communities.[1]These facts, combined with the sheer value of their manuscript collection,[2] make the family understandably guarded about allowing access to thematerials they possess. However, with the assistance of Rabbi Zevulun Charlop, Dean of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary in New York City and a cousin of the Shapira family,[3] I was able to secure brief and accompanied access to the manuscript from which ‘Emek ha-Netziv was taken.[4]

The manuscript is handwritten in three volumes, corresponding to the three volumes of the printed text. The first two volumes were bound, but the binding has completely deteriorated and sections of each volume easily separate from one another. The third volume seems never to have been bound. The pages of all three volumes are severely frayed at the edges.

As suspected, the manuscript contains a core text with countless interlinear and marginal additions as well as words and entire lines that have been crossed out:



.

It is important to note that the brackets and parenthesis which appear throughout the printed text do not correspond to these additions. Rather, they correspond to places in which Netziv placed parenthesis or brackets around his own words both in the core text and in the additions. The additions and the notes he appended to the end of the manuscript (referred to by the Netziv as hashmatot )[5] were incorporated without indication into the printed text.


The script of the core text through the first two volumes and half of the third is a fairly consistent narrowly-spaced brown cursive[6] written with a fairly wide-tipped pen. In the second half of the third volume the script of the core text changes to a blacker, wider-spaced cursive seemingly done with a thinner-tipped pen. The script of the later marginal additions varies.

The notes which appear scattered throughout the printed text (referred to by the Netziv as hagahot) were written at the same time as the core text,[7] as evidenced by the identical script used and the intentional indentations left in the text of the core commentary in order to create space for the hagahot. The hagahotalso contain marginal additions. A typical page in the manuscript containing hagahot, then, is represented in the following diagram:

The reference to the newly printed book ‛Emek Halakhah mentioned above appears as an interlinear addition to the core text, thus implying that for that particular section of the commentary on Naso, the core text was written prior to 1845 and the addition was included after 1845. The references to Reb ‘Iẓele are also found in the core text with the word “she-yiḥyeh,” which dates those passages of the core text to the years prior to 1849 as well.[8]

The orderly progression of chapters in the core text, which begin at varying places on the physical page of the manuscript, indicates that Netziv wrote down his comments in this manuscript in proper sequence, following the order of Sifre. [9]That is, one can safely assume that in this particular copy of the manuscript, the core text of Netziv’s comments on Parashat Bamidbar were committed to writing before those of Parashat Naso, and his comments on pesikta’ aleph were committed to writing prior to those of pesikta’ bet.[10] If the core text of the manuscript was written sequentially, and the core text of EH Naso 49 (I:181) was necessarily written prior to the publication of Zev Wolf ben Yehudah Ha-Levi’s 1845 publication of ‘Emek Halakhah, one can deduce that, at the very least, the entire core text until that point was also committed to writing prior to 1845. Likewise, from the appearance of the word “she-yiḥyeh” in the core text of Be-ha‛alotekha andShelaḥ[11] one can assume that the text up to that point was written prior to Reb ’Iẓele’s death in 1849. If we then add that the handwriting remains rather constant in the core text until the second half of the third volume, we have reason to believe that all of the core text until that shift in appearance was committed to writing prior to 1849.

Thus, one can safely conclude that a good portion of the printed edition of‘Emek ha-Netziv was indeed written while Netziv was a young man in his twenties and thirties. As such, the general character and main attributes of the work must be seen as a product of the cultural and intellectual atmosphere of Lithuanian Jewish society in the 1830s and 1840s. At the same time, given the large number of later additions and the lack of any demarcation in the printed text, one can not firmly ascribe a date to any specific passage found in it, with the exception of those which contain explicit or implicit references to the time of composition.

Censorship

The process of preparing ‘Emek ha-Netziv  for publication was painstakingly performed by the Shapira family over the course of many years, and thus the printed text seems to be relatively free of printing errors. However, there are two hints in the printed text which suggest the possibility of editorial censorship.

As noted above, Netziv’s relative openness to sources of information beyond the pale of the current traditionalist canon is a character trait which is at odds with the values of the contemporary ultra-Orthodox community. As we will describe at length in the pages that follow, Emek ha-Netziv  is filled with citations and references to such sources of information. On two such occasions the reference found in the printed text appears to be intentionally altered so as to prevent proper identification of the source. In his comments on ‘Ekev, Netziv writes that for further study one should consult the book called “thirty-two Middot of [sic] in Vilna.”[12] In all probability Netziv is referring to the book published in 1822 called Netivot Olam: Beraita de-32 Middot with the commentary of Ẓvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen. Katzenellenbogen is known to have been a member of Vilna’s more “enlightened” circles.[13] As such, the possibility exists that the publisher intentionally left out Katzenellenbogen’s name. This prospect is bolstered by the fact that the manuscript contains a name in the standard acronymic form where the printed edition has a blank space. When I asked to look at this reference in the manuscript, it was reviewed by two members of the Shapira family and I was denied permission to look at it. Nonetheless, I did manage to see what seemed like a legible acronym ending in the letter qof.[14] Although it is possible that the editor could not discern the letters of the acronym, if such had been the case one would expect a bracketed editorial note, such as those which appear on several occasions in the printed text where the manuscript is illegible due to stains or frayed edges.[15]

The second possible instance of editorial censorship concerns a passage in Netziv’s commentary on Shoftim which refers the reader to “hakdamat ḥumash besau[16] ve-‘tav’’alef’.[17] The most common referent for the initials tav”alef in the context of Torah commentary is Targum Onkelos, the ancient Aramaic translation of the Bible. However, if the bet of the word “besau” is replaced with adaled so as to read “desau” we might suggest that the tav”alef stands for targum Ashkenaz, German translation, rather than Targum Onkelos. As such, the citation would be of the well-known introduction to Moses Mendelssohn’s Torah commentary, which was printed in Dessau and contains a German translation of the biblical text. The fact that the subject matter under discussion in this passage of Netziv’s commentary correlates to subject matter discussed by Mendelssohn in the introduction to his Bible commentary supports the latter suggestion.

We might raise the question, then, as to whether the printed text was intentionally manipulated so as to prevent easy identification of Mendelssohn’s work or whether the daled of Dessau was simply mistaken as a bet by the printsetter.[18]The fact that this particular citation was underlined in pink pencil in the manuscript bolsters the suspicion that the publishers of ‘Emek ha-Netziv were sensitive to the potential controversy the citation of Mendelssohn might have caused in the ultra-Orthodox community and that they therefore intentionally altered the printed text.[19]

Both of the above instances of possible censorship beg the question as to why the references were included altogether if the printers wished them to remain unidentified. Furthermore, as will be discussed below, the printed text of ‘Emek ha-Netziv contains references to numerous other works that lie well beyond the traditional contemporary ultra-Orthodox canon which were not censored. As such, the evidence for editorial censorship cannot be considered conclusive. Nonetheless, these two passages do raise the possibility that other parts of the text were more cleverly censored or that other citations were completely deleted.
The End of ‘Emek ha-Netziv
The end of Netziv’s commentary on Sifre, as it appears in the printed edition of ‘Emek ha-Netziv , is also an issue of concern to the critical reader. The commentary in both the printed edition and the manuscript comes to an abrupt halt halfway through the parashah of Ki Teẓeh[20] and well before the end of the text of Sifre itself. One is therefore led to question whether Netziv truly ended his commentary there, or whether there was more to the commentary that does not appear in the printed text.

Several factors indicate that Netziv’s commentary did, in fact, extend beyondpiska’ 27 of Parashat Ki Teẓeh.[21] To begin, Netziv starts his commentary at the beginning of Sifre with an introductory double couplet, and thus one would expect a similar poetic composition at the end of the work, but none appears in the printed text or in the manuscript. Furthermore, a statement of completion marks the close of each parashah throughout the text, but none appears at the end of Parashat Ki Teẓeh. Likewise, the completion of the Book of Numbers is marked by two rhyming stanzas of nine lines each,[22] while Deuteronomy, and the commentary as a whole, has no formal conclusion at all.

One must entertain the possibility that the abrupt ending of the work suggests not that the final portion of the commentary is missing from the printed text but that Netziv never completed the commentary. This theory might be supported by the fact that the statements of conclusion which follow everyparashah are in poetic form in the first two volumes, whereas in the third volume, which consists of the Book of Deuteronomy, the statements consist of nothing more than “Piska’ 8 is complete and [so too] the entire portion of ve-’Etḥ anan.”[23] One might interpret this phenomenon as suggesting that the final touches, such as the transformation of abrupt closing statements into clever couplets, were never applied to the third volume of the work.

Such a conclusion seems unlikely, however, when one considers the numerous revisions and recensions to which Netziv subjected the rest of the commentary. One generally does not spend the time editing, expanding, and re-copying a work that one has yet to complete. Furthermore, in his introduction toHa‘amek She’elah Netziv regrets that he has not yet brought his commentary onSifre to press, but he makes no mention of not having completed writing the text. Similarly, in a comment found in his Harḥev Davar, published along with his Ha‛amek Davar in 1878, Netziv writes that while he has not elaborated on a particular point in this work, he will do so at length when God grants him the merit of “publishing the commentary on Sifre.[24] Here too, Netziv does not ask for God’s help in finishing the work, but in bringing it to press. Likewise, Avraham Yiẓḥak Kook, one of the outstanding students of Netziv , publically called upon his teacher to publish his Sifrecommentary in a footnote to a biographical article on Netziv published in 1888.[25]He too seems to suggest that the work was complete.

The physical form of the third volume of the manuscript makes the possibility of missing material rather plausible as well. The printed text contains commentary to every piska’ in Sifre up until piska’ 27 of Parashat Ki Teẓeh.[26] There is no commentary on piska’ot 27-54, but the text resumes with brief comments on piska’54[27] and then ends completely. In the manuscript, piska’ 27 ends at the bottom of a page, which raises the possibility that further commentary followed on subsequent pages which are now lost. The brief comments to piska’ 54 appear on the reverse side of comments labeled as hashmatot; therefore, they may well represent hashmatot to a core commentary, now lost, on the end of Deuteronomy.[28] When one considers the fact that, unlike the first two volumes, the third volume of the manuscript is not bound and does not appear to ever have been bound, the notion that pages from the end of the commentary were lost must be seriously considered.[29]
Conclusions
The conclusion one must draw from the above investigation of the text of‘Emek ha-Netziv is that a historical analysis of the content found in the printed text must be made with caution. The possibility of the text being incomplete must always be considered both in regard to possible editorial censorship and in regard to the possibility that the text originally contained additional chapters that are currently lost. Whereas the core text of the commentary prior to Shelaḥ [30] can be rather definitively dated prior to 1849, the printed text makes no distinction between the core text and later additions. As such, with the exception of a few passages which include embedded historical evidence, no single passage in the printed text can conclusively be dated to the 1830s or 1840s. Nonetheless, there is sufficient evidence, both in Netziv’s own testimony with which this chapter began and in the clues offered by the text and corroborated by the manuscript, to conclude that the bulk of the commentary does indeed reflect a project with which Netziv was engrossed in his early years. Thus, trends which can be identified throughout the printed text and which comprise its general character must indeed be seen as reflective of the intellectual currents of Lithuanian Jewish culture in the 1830s and 1840s.
[1] In recent years, certain circles in the ultra-Orthodox community recommended that Moshe Dombey and N.T. Erline’s adaptation of Barukh Ha-Levi Epstein’s Mekor Barukh, entitled My Uncle the Neẓiv (Brooklyn, N.Y.: Mesorah Publications, 1988), not be read due to its portrayal of Neẓiv as one who did not share all of the values of the contemporary ultra-Orthodox community. See Jacob J. Schacter, “Haskalah, Secular Studies, and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892,” Torah u-Madda Journal 1 (1989): 76-133; Don Seeman, “The Silence of Rayna Batya: Torah, Suffering, and Rabbi Barukh Epstein’s Wisdom of Women’,” Torah u-Madda Journal 6 (1995-1996): 91-128; Don Seeman and Rebecca Kobrin, “’Like One of the Whole Men’: Learning, Gender and Autobiography in R. Barukh Epstein’s Mekor Barukh,”Nashim 2 (1999): 52-94; Brenda Bacon, “Reflections on the Suffering of Rayna Batya and the Success of the Daughters of Zelophehad,” Nashim 3 (2000): 249-256; Dan Rabinowitz, “Rayna Batya and Other Learned Women: A Reevaluation of Rabbi Barukh Halevi Epstein’s Sources,” Tradition 35: 1 (Summer 2001): 55-69. This position toward Neẓiv, however, was already espoused a century earlier when a series of articles appeared in the Galician newspaper Maḥzike Ha-Da’at (volumes 16, 17, and 18) warning traditionalist Jews to stay away from Netziv’s Bible commentary,Ha‛amek Davar, due to its modern stance toward the authority of the Talmudic Sages. A similar sentiment is reflected in the fact that many ultra-Orthodox houses of study have refused, and continue to refuse, to include Ha‛amek Davar in their libraries.
[2] A value which stands in stark contrast to the overwhelming poverty of most of Geulah’s inhabitants.
[3] See Neil Rosenstein, The Unbroken Chain. (New York: CIS Publishers, 1990) 433-440.
[4] My examination of the manuscript took place in July of 2004 with the assistance of a Summer Travel Grant awarded by the Center for Jewish Studies at Harvard University.
[5] The hashmatot probably represent additions to the text which Neẓiv could not fit in the margins of the page of the core text due to lack of space.
[6] The letters are in cursive form, but Neẓiv generally did not attach his letters to each other. The brown color was probably black when originally applied but has lost its vibrance with the passage of time.
[7] The hagahot seem to have been intended as tangential footnotes to the main commentary in a manner similar to the way in which Netziv’s Harḥev Davar was intended to supplement his Ha‛amek Davar on the Bible. This format was typical of Lithuanian Torah commentary, for reasons which will be explained in Chapter Three below.
[8] I had hoped to demarcate the beginning and end of each addition in my own printed text along with a description of the script used in each addition. The Shapira family, however, was not willing to grant me the sustained access to the manuscript required for such an endeavor.
[9] If it had not been written in order, one would expect to find empty spaces on the bottom of a page where a particular chapter or section ended and new sections beginning on the top of new pages. Instead the end of each section in the manuscript is followed immediately by the beginning of the next section, indicating that they were written sequentially.
[10] There is reason to believe that this manuscript itself is a later recension of an earlier edition. The family showed me what they said were the few extant leaves of an earlier version of the commentary written by Neẓiv which predates the manuscript used for the printed text, but I was not allowed to study them at length. As such, the above analysis does not suggest that Neẓiv actually composed his commentary according to the sequence of the Sifre text, but simply that the transcription of the core text of the commentary into the manuscript at hand was done in sequential order.
[11] See note 14 above.
[12] EH ‘Ekev 4 (III: 52).
[13] See Chapter Two below.
[14] My access to the manuscript was always limited to sitting next to a member of the Shapira family, who would turn to the page I wished to check and look at the specific textual anomaly before deciding whether to let me look as well. In this case I was able to peer over his shoulder and attempt to decipher the acronym. The exact answer this member of the Shapira family gave me was, “Suffice it to say, it is not a siman in Shulḥan Arukh.”
[15] E.g., EH Naso 42 (I: 162); EH Naso 44 (I: 173); EH Matot 1 (II: 279); EHMatot ‛Ekev (III: 45); EH Re’eh 9 (III: 92).
[16] Bet-ayyin-sameh-vav.
[17] EH Shoftim 16 (III: 189).
[18] In cursive Hebrew writing the bet and daled look quite similar.
[19] A glaring example of this type of censorship recently appeared in a photo-offset of the 1926 Frankfurt edition of David Ẓvi Hoffmann’s responsa, Melamed le-Ho‛il, published by the Lebovitz-Kest foundation. In Responsa #56 in the original printing (II: 50), Hoffmann gives his approval, in exigent cases, for an Orthodox Jew to swear before a civil court without a head covering. In the context of his piece, Hoffmann also attests to the fact that Samson Raphael Hirsch instructed the students in the Frankfurt Orthodox school which he founded to cover their heads only for Judaic studies and allowed them to remain bare-headed for their secular studies. The recent photo-offset contains an introduction by a grandson of Hoffmann, David Ẓvi ben Natan Naftali Hoffmann, which gives the reader the impression that the grandson belongs to the ultra-Orthodox community of Jerusalem. Responsa #56, however, permits a practice clearly anathema to that community. Hence, when one turns to page fifty in the off-set, in place of what was earlier Responsa #56, one finds a blank space. I thank Rabbi Moshe Schapiro, librarian at the Mendel Gottesman Library of Yeshiva University, for bringing this example to my attention.
[20] EH Teẓeh (III: 296).
[21] Note that the piska‘ot of Neẓiv do not correspond to those of the Sifre text with which the commentary is printed. In the text of Sifre the last piska’ for which there is continuous commentary is 43, and it then resumes in 54. See Chapter 5.
[22] EH Mas‛ai (II: 334).
[23] EH Ve-’Etḥanan (III: 43).
[24] HrD Num. 6: 19.
[25] Avraham Yizhak Kook, “Rosh Yeshivat Eẓ Ḥayyim,” Kenesset Yisrael, ed. S.J Finn (Warsaw, 1888), 138-147. Also in Ma’amarei HaRe’iyah (Jerusalem, 1984), 123-126.
[26] EH Teẓeh (III: 296). Piska’ot here are according to Netziv’s division. For more on Netziv’s method of dividing piska’ot see Chapter Three below.
[27] EH Teẓeh (III: 299). In the absence of Netziv’s commentary, piska’ot here refer to the division found in the standard Sulzbach edition.
[28] When I asked the Shapira family about the strange ending of work, they too suggested that there might have been more that was lost. When I asked them who had possession of the manuscript prior to them, they declined to give me any names and replied instead, “Suffice it say, it has been handed down, son after son.”
[29] The existence of commentary on the latter parts of Deuteronomy could have been conclusively proven had Neẓiv included a reference to it in his other writings. I have found no such reference, but no conclusions can be drawn from silence.
[30] EH Shelaḥ 1 (II: 10)



When Rabbi Meir Kahane’s Father Translated the Torah

When Rabbi Meir Kahane’s Father Translated the Torah

By Yosef Lindell

Yosef Lindell is a lawyer, writer, and lecturer living in Silver Spring, MD. He has a JD from NYU Law and an MA in Jewish history from Yeshiva University. He is one of the editors of the Lehrhaus and has published more than 30 articles on Jewish history and thought in a variety of venues. His website is yoseflindell.wordpress.com.

In 1962, the Jewish Publication Society published a new translation of the Torah. The product of nearly a decade of work, the new edition was the first major English translation to cast off the shackles of the 1611 King James Bible. Dr. Harry Orlinsky, the primary force behind the new translation and a professor of Bible at the merged Reform Hebrew Union College and Jewish Institute of Religion, explained that even JPS’ celebrated 1917 translation was merely a King James lookalike, a modest revision of the Revised Standard Version that “did not exceed more than a very few percent of the whole.”[1] This new edition was different. As the editors wrote in the preface, the King James not only “had an archaic flavor,” but it rendered the Hebrew “word for word rather than idiomatically,” resulting in “quaintness or awkwardness and not infrequently in obscurity.”[2] Now, for the first time, the editors translated wholly anew, jettisoning literalism for maximum intelligibility. More than sixty years later, JPS’ work remains one of the definitive English translations of the Torah.

The new JPS may have left the King James behind, but it didn’t satisfy everyone. In addition to making the Torah more intelligible, the editors incorporated the insights of modern biblical scholarship, both from “biblical archeology and in the recovery of the languages and civilizations of the peoples among whom the Israelites lived and whose modes of living and thinking they largely shared.”[3] So when asked by Rabbi Theodore Adams, the president of the Rabbinical Council of America, whether the RCA could accept an invitation from Dr. Solomon Grayzel, JPS’ publisher, to participate in the new translation, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik demurred. He wrote in a 1953 letter to Adams, “I am afraid that the purpose of this undertaking is not to infuse the spirit of Torah she-be-al peh into the new English version but, on the contrary, … to satisfy the so-called modern ‘scientific’ demands for a more exact rendition in accordance with the latest archeological and philological discoveries.”[4]

Just one year after JPS released its volume, in 1963, R. Soloveitchik’s wish for a more “Torah-true” translation was answered, but likely not in the way he expected. The two-volume Torah Yesharah published by Rabbi Charles Kahane (1905-1978) relies heavily on traditional Jewish commentary in its translation.[5] But as we’ll explore, because of its lack of fidelity to the Hebrew text, it can hardly be called a translation at all.

Here is the title page (courtesy of the Internet Archive):

The strategically placed dots on the title page indicate that Yesharah is an acronym for the author’s Hebrew name—Yechezkel Shraga Hakohen. R. Charles Kahane was born in Safed and received semichah from the Pressburg Yeshiva in Hungary. After immigrating to the United States in 1925 and receiving a second semichah from Yeshiva University’s Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary, he served as rabbi of Congregation Shaarei Tefiloh in Brooklyn for most of his professional career, a shul which drew over 2,000 worshippers for the High Holidays.[6] He was a founding member of the Vaad Harabbanim of Flatbush and helped Rabbi Avraham Kalmanowitz re-establish the Mir Yeshiva in Brooklyn. Today, however, he is known as the father of Meir Kahane, the radical and controversial Jewish power activist and politician who needs no further introduction. The father does not seem to have been directly involved in his son’s activities, but he took pride in Meir’s accomplishments and was a staunch supporter of the Irgun in Palestine, Ze’ev Jabotinsky’s Revisionist Zionist movement, and Jabotinsky’s youth group, Betar.[7]

R. Kahane told the New York Times that Torah Yesharah was inspired by Bible classes he gave to his adult congregants where many people did not understand the text even in translation.[8] (Recall that the new JPS translation was not yet available, and other English translations relied on the archaic King James.) He wanted to rectify this problem; indeed, the title page states that the work is a “traditional interpretive translation,” suggesting that it was intended to be more user-friendly. But calling it user-friendly does not do justice to what Kahane did. Here is most of Bereishit 22—the passage of Akedat Yitzchak:

Most translators try to approximate the meaning of the Hebrew. Not so R. Kahane. Nearly every single English verse here contains significant additions not found in the original. The first verse, for example, which states that the Akedah was meant to punish Avraham for making a treaty with Avimelech, follows the opinion of the medieval commentator Rashbam, who, notes that the words “and it was after these things” connect the Akedah to the previous episode—the treaty with Avimelech (Rashbam, Bereishit 22:1). But it’s hard to imagine that Rashbam, famous for his devotion to peshat—plain meaning—would have been comfortable with his explanation being substituted for the translation itself. Many other verses on this page provide additions from Rashi and other commentators. 

Pretty much every page of R. Kahane’s translation looks similar: Hebrew on one side and an expansive interpretive translation drawn from the classical commentators on the other. Kahane makes no effort to distinguish between the literal meaning of the Hebrew and his interpretive gloss.[9] Dr. Philip Birnbaum, the famed siddur and machzor translator, criticizes this aspect of the work in his (Hebrew) review, noting that Kahane’s interpretations are written “as if they are an inseparable part of the Hebrew source, and the simple reader who doesn’t know the Holy Tongue will end up mistakenly thinking that everything written in ‘Torah Yesharah’ is written in ‘Torat Moshe.’”[10]

To be fair, R. Kahane cites sources for his interpretations, but only at the back of each book of the Torah and only in Hebrew shorthand:

Thus, a reader not already fluent in Hebrew and the traditional commentaries would have little idea where Kahane was drawing his “translation” from and might not grasp how much the translation departed from the Hebrew original.[11]

Yet perhaps this was the point. R. Kahane considered literal translation to be illegitimate. In the preface to Torah Yesharah, Kahane contrasts Targum Onkelos, which is celebrated by the Sages, with the Septuagint translation of the Torah into Greek, which the Sages mourned. Kahane suggests that a Targum, which is an interpretation or commentary, is superior to a direct translation. Targum Onkelos, he writes, was composed under the guidance of the Sages and based on the Oral Law, and therefore it was “sanctified.” According to Kahane, “The Torah cannot and must never be translated literally, without following the Oral interpretation as given to Moses on Sinai. … It is in this spirit that the present translation-interpretation has been written.”[12]

Kahane was not the only Orthodox rabbi of his time to criticize translation unfaithful to rabbinic interpretation. We’ve already noted R. Soloveitchik’s concerns about the new JPS.[13] Similarly, the encyclopedist Rabbi Judah David Eisenstein reported that in 1913, when JPS was preparing its initial translation, Rabbi Chaim Hirschenson of Hoboken, NJ, convinced the Agudath Harabbanim to protest JPS’ efforts so the new work should not become the “official” translation of English-speaking Jewry the way the King James had become the official translation of the Church of England. The Agudath Harabbanim noted the Sages’ disapproval of the Septuagint and explained that only Targum Onkelos and traditional commentators that based themselves on the Talmud were officially sanctioned.[14]

R. Kahane’s approach also harks back to a series of articles in Jewish Forum composed in 1928 by Rabbi Samuel Gerstenfeld, a rosh yeshiva at RIETS (a young Rabbi Gerstenfeld is pictured below), attacking the original 1917 JPS translation. Gerstenfeld labeled the JPS translation Conservative and sought to demonstrate its departure from Orthodoxy by comprehensively cataloging all the places where the translation departed from the halakhic understanding of the verse. So, for example, he criticizes JPS for translating the tachash skins used in the construction of the Mishkan as “seal skins,” because according to halachic authorities, non-kosher animal hides cannot be used for a sacred purpose.[15] He believed that the word tachash should be transliterated, but not translated.[16] Gerstenfeld concludes that the JPS translators “missed a Moses—a Rabbi well versed in Talmud and Posekim, who would have been vigilant against violence to the Oral Law.”[17]

Still, R. Kahane’s interpretive translation with additions goes far beyond what R. Gerstenfeld was suggesting. To give one example: Gerstenfeld quibbles with JPS’ translation of the words ve-yarka befanav in the chalitzah ceremony (Devarim 25:9). The 1917 JPS translates that the woman should “spit in his face” (referring to the man who refuses to perform yibbum). Gerstenfeld notes that rabbinic tradition unanimously holds that the woman spits on the ground. He suggests that “and spit in his presence” would be a better translation.[18] Gerstenfeld’s suggestion is reasonably elegant—it gives space for the rabbinic reading without negating the meaning of the Hebrew. Kahane makes no such attempt to be literal, instead translating that she will “spit on the ground in front of his face.”[19] As we’ve seen, Kahane had no compunctions about adding words.

Thus, there is no English-language precedent for Torah Yesharah of which I am aware. As the preface suggests, R. Kahane was inspired by the Aramaic targumim, but it would seem more by Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel than Targum Onkelos. Onkelos translates word-for-word in most circumstances, typically departing from the Hebrew’s literal meaning to address theological concerns, such as a discomfort with anthropomorphism. Targum Yonatan, on the other hand, seamlessly weaves many midrashic additions into its translation and looks more like Torah Yesharah. For example, at the beginning of the Akedah passage, Targum Yonatan goes on a lengthy excursus suggesting that God’s command to sacrifice Yitzchak was in response to a debate between Yitzchak and Yishmael where Yitzchak boasted that he would be willing to offer himself to God. This digression is akin to Kahane’s addition of the Rashbam into his translation. If anything, Targum Yonatan is more expansive than Torah Yesharah.

Torah Yesharah received a fair amount of press upon its publication. It was even reviewed by the New York Times, which called it “[a] new and unusual translation” that was intended to make the Torah “more meaningful to Americans.” The article quoted Rabbi Dr. Immanuel Jakobovits, then the rabbi of the Fifth Avenue Synagogue in Manhattan (before he became Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom), as calling it “an original enterprise” and “a most specifically Jewish rendering of the Torah.” While the Times was noncommittal about the work, a critical review in the Detroit Jewish News found Kahane’s language confusing and inferior to the new JPS translation published the prior year.[20] As for Dr. Birnbaum, he praised Torah Yesharah’s reliance on traditional Jewish interpretations and lamented the fact that most other biblical translations “were borrowed from the Christians from the time of Shakespeare,” but criticized the format (as noted above) and some of Kahane’s more tendentious translations.[21]

Despite the interest Torah Yesharah generated, its unique approach was not replicated. One might see echoes of R. Kahane in a better known translation—ArtScroll’s 1993 Stone Edition Chumash. As its editors explained in its preface, the “volume attempts to render the text as our Sages understood it.”[22] To this end, ArtScroll famously follows Rashi when translating “because the study of Chumash has been synonymous with Chumash-Rashi for nine centuries,”[23] even when Rashi is at variance with more straightforward readings of the text. Thus, for example, ArtScroll translates az huchal likro be-shem hashem (Genesis 4:26) based on Rashi as, “Then to call in the name of Hashem became profaned”—a reference to the beginnings of idol worship.[24] However, a more literal translation would run, “Then people began to call in the name of God,” which sounds like a reference to sincere prayer—the opposite of idolatry. It’s also well-known that ArtScroll declines to translate Shir Ha-Shirim literally, adapting Rashi’s allegorical commentary in place of translation.

On the other hand, ArtScroll’s overall approach is different than Torah Yesharah’s. ArtScroll is typically quite literal, translating word-for-word even when the syntax of the verse suffers as a result. An example from the Akedah is again relevant: va-yar ve-hinei ayil achar ne’echaz ba-sevach be-karnav (Genesis 22:13). ArtScroll’s translation, that Abraham “saw—behold, a ram!—afterwards, caught in the thicket,”[25] is awkward, but it preserves the word achar in the precise location that it appears in the Hebrew. When ArtScroll wants to highlight more traditional interpretations of the text in line with Chazal and others, it does so in the commentary, not in the translation itself.[26]

Two recent works—the Koren Steinsaltz Humash (2018) and the Chabad Kehot Chumash (2015)—are much closer to Torah Yesharah in that they insert commentary directly into the English translation. But they still differ in an important respect. Both the Steinsaltz—which is a translation of a Hebrew Humash based on the classes of Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz—and the Kehot “interpolate” a good deal of commentary into the translation (the former is more peshat based and the latter leans more on Rashi and Midrash). Nevertheless, they distinguish between what’s literal and what’s added by using bold font for the literal translation. This approach still has its downsides, as it can still be hard to read the English cleanly without the added gloss getting in the way of the literal meaning.[27] But it’s preferable to Torah Yesharah, where R. Kahane did not provide the reader any means of distinguishing between the text and his additions.

Today, Torah Yesharah is but a historical curiosity. Yet its existence highlights the fact that some mid-20th century Orthodox Jews felt a real need for a translation that followed in the footsteps of Chazal and other traditional commentators. To them, JPS’ translation did not embrace an authentic Torah approach. Before ArtScroll came on the scene, Torah Yesharah filled that niche for a time, but its unusual format blurred the line between the Word of God and the words of His interpreters.

Yosef Lindell is a lawyer, writer, and lecturer living in Silver Spring, MD. He has a JD from NYU Law and an MA in Jewish history from Yeshiva University. He is one of the editors of the Lehrhaus and has published more than 30 articles on Jewish history and thought in a variety of venues. His website is yoseflindell.wordpress.com.

[1] Harry M. Orlinsky, “The New Jewish Version of the Torah: Toward a New Philosophy of Bible Translation,” Journal of Biblical Literature 82:3 (1963): 251.
[2] The Torah: The Five Books of Moses (The Jewish Publication Society, 1962), Preface.
[3] Ibid.
[4]
Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Community, Covenant, and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications (Nathaniel Helfgot, ed., KTAV, 2005), 110.
[5] Charles Kahane, ed., Torah Yesharah (Torah Yesharah Publication: Solomon Rabinowitz Book Concern, NY, 1963).
[6]
To the New York Times, Kahane described the shul as “progressive Orthodox,” and it likely lacked a mechitzah. See Robert I. Friedman, The False Prophet: Rabbi Meir Kahane (Lawrence Hill Books, 1990), 20. That, however, was not unusual for those times.
[7] The biographical information in this paragraph is drawn from Friedman (see previous note) and Libby Kahane, Rabbi Meir Kahane: His Life and Thought (Institute for the Publication of the Writings of Rabbi Meir Kahane, 2008).
[8] Richard F. Shepard, “Rabbi Publishes New Bible Study; Works on Early Scholars Are Reinterpreted,” New York Times (June 21, 1964), 88.
[9] Here is another example of a large interpretive insertion concerning God’s decision that Moshe and Aharon would not lead the people into Israel because of their sin regarding the rock (Bamidbar 20:12):

That’s quite a few more words than are found in the Hebrew!
[10] Paltiel Birnbaum, “Targum Angli be-Ruah ha-Masoret,” in Pleitat Sofrim: Iyyunim ve-Ha’arakhot be-Hakhmat Yisrael ve-Safrutah (Mossad Harav Kook, 1971), 75.
[11] Of note, Kahane’s translation is available on Sefaria, but with modifications that obscure its radicalness. For one, the format is different: the Hebrew and English are not juxtaposed in the same way. Second, the sources for each verse are cited directly below the translation in parentheses. This is not the way Kahane presented his sources in the original.
[12] Torah Yesharah, xviii-ix.
[13] Among the most intriguing critics of the new JPS was Avram Davidson, who wrote in Jewish Life in 1957 that because the translation was being prepared by non-Orthodox scholars who intended to depart occasionally from the Masoretic text in light of new archaeological discoveries, it was not “being prepared on the Torah’s terms” and was unacceptable. A.A. Davidson, “A ‘Modern’ Bible Translation,” Orthodox Jewish Life 24:5 (1957): 7-11. Davidson later became a science fiction writer of some renown but by the end of his life had become enamored with a modern Japanese religion called Tenrikyo.
[14] J.D. Eisenstein, ed., Otzar Yisrael vol. 10 (New York, 1913), 309. See also the criticism of the 1962 JPS translation and the discussion of Eisenstein and R. Gerstenfeld’s article in Sidney B. Hoenig, “Notes on the New Translation of the Torah – A Preliminary Inquiry,” Tradition 5:2 (1963): 172-205.
[15] Samuel Gerstenfeld, “The Conservative Halacha,” The Jewish Forum 11:10 (Oct. 1928): 533.
[16] Indeed, ArtScroll’s Stone Chumash leaves tachash untranslated. Interestingly, R. Kahane just translates “sealskins” like JPS.
[17] Samuel Gerstenfeld, “The Conservative Halacha,” The Jewish Forum 11:11 (Nov. 1928): 576.
[18] Ibid., 575-76.
[19] Torah Yesharah, 331.
[20] Philip Slomovitz, “Purely Commentary,” Detroit Jewish News (Aug. 21, 1964), 2.
[21] Birnbaum, 76. It’s interesting that Birnbaum was far more critical of non-literal translations of the siddur. When the RCA incorporated the poetic translations of the British novelist Israel Zangwill into its 1960 siddur edited by Rabbi Dr. David de Sola Pool, Birnbaum wrote a scathing review in Hadoar, accusing Zangwill’s efforts as being “free imitations,” not translations, and of having Christian influence. Paltiel Birnbaum, “Siddur Chadash Ba le-Medinah,” Hadoar 40:6 (Dec. 9, 1960): 85. Birnbaum may have been jealous of the RCA’s siddur, which was a direct competitor to his 1949 edition. Also, he was unimpressed with Zangwill in particular, who had married a non-Jew and was not halakhically observant. For more about this, see my article in Lehrhaus here.
[22] Nosson Scherman, ed., The Stone Edition Chumash (Mesorah Publications, 1993), xvi.
[23] Ibid.
[24] Ibid., 23.
[25] Ibid., 103.
[26] Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s 1981 Living Torah translation also bears some resemblance to Torah Yesharah in its tendency to follow Chazal, but it too, despite its exceedingly colloquial approach to translation, does not insert large interpretive glosses into the text.
[27] R. Steinsaltz calls the commentary “transparent” and “one whose explanations should go almost unnoticed and serve only to give the reader and student the sense that there is no barrier between him or her and the text,” but I am not sure I agree. See The Steinsaltz Humash (Koren Publishers, 2015), ix.