Review of Reckless Rites

While it is a bit out of season, I wanted to review Elliott Horowitz’s new book Reckless Rites. In this book, subtitled “Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence,” everything is viewed through the prism of the violence inflicted by the Jews upon their enemies at the end of Esther.

While arguably, the violence at the end is only a minor part of the story for some that aspect has clouded everything about the Book of Esther and Purim. First Horowitz looks at how the Book was viewed by non-Jews. Some had a very negative view due to the Jewish revenge. They considered that motif, un-biblical (read non-Christian). Horowitz goes through each of the characters and how first non-Jews interpreted their actions. For instance, Mordechi was treated rather harshly by many of these commentators as was Esther due to her passivity. What is especially fascinating is how these non-Jewish understandings, at times, crept into Jewish thought as well. Thus, Horowitz documents Jews parroting these rather un-Jewish, at it were, interpretations.

Horowitz then tackles the overarching theme of Amalek and how this has been understood throughout history. Some hold there is no obligation of destroying Amalek today while others are willing to label any perceived enemy of Jews as deserving of the harsh consequences of Amalek. Some of these examples are rather disturbing.

After dealing with the Book of Esther specifically, Horowitz turns his focus to Jewish practice on Purim. Specifically, he deals with Jewish violence or violent acts on Purim directed at non-Jews. He provides a discussion of the stereotype of the “mild” (read the wimp) Jew including its origins and whether it is borne out by history. He then discusses numerous, diverse examples spanning from the 5th century until today of Jewish violence. Some is not physical violence, instead it is host desecration or general enmity of non-Jewish symbols while other, most recently Barukh Goldstein is physical violence in its worst form.

In an effort to play down some of these incidents, we have Jewish historians who decided to avoid discussion of such matters, or at times downplay their significance. However, in light of the many examples here, it is very difficult to ignore such examples. Horowitz is very convincing in the scope of this idea and how prevalent this is. It is especially telling when tracing and seeing how systematically Jews have decided to sweep under the rug these examples, it demonstrates that censorship is not limited to any one group and even amongst supposedly dispassionate scholars, they too can fall prey to their own biases.

The detail and research is amazing , Horowitz leaves no stone unturned. All in all, this book sheds new light of the story of Purim, the Book of Esther and Jewish history. It provides a new way of viewing the story of Esther and Jewish ideas towards violence.



Manasseh of Ilya and Y. Barzilay

I recently finished reading Yitzhak Barzilay’s book on R. Manasseh of Ilya. R. Manasseh was a fascinating character. He was a student of the Vilna Goan, but wrote a pamphlet arguing for reconciliation between Hassidim and non-Hassidim. He wrote another work discussing the trop or cantilation marks and yet another, his mangum opus, on the Talmud. It is the later work that he is most well known for, although not necessarily in a positive way. The Tefferet Yisrael (R. Yisrael Lifshitz) on the Mishna quotes a brief passage from this commentary. R. Menasseh’s comments appear on the first Mishna in Perek Alu Mitzhut. (Baba Metziah 1:1). He understands the Mishna in a different fashion than the Talmud, thus provoking some to argue such a position is heritical.

R. Manasseh was a controversial figure. His book on the reconciliation, Pesher Davar, was publicly burnt. His work on Talmud, Alphei Menashe, after either the publisher or some outsider (depending on the source, there are a couple versions of the story), destroyed it right before it was completed. R. Manasseh was forced to reproduce the entire work from memory and find a different printer.

Additionally, although he had a close relationship with the Vilna Goan, the Vilna Goan severed that relationship after learning R. Manasseh had been in contact with R. Shneur Zalman of Lida (Ba’al haTanya).

All this being said, he is ripe for an excellent biography. Unfortunately, Barzilay does not deviate from his norm, and put out another poor work. Although Barzilay has written on many other interesting figures of Jewish history, almost always he fails to do anything substantive or worthwhile with the subjects.

This work is full of gross supposition that are never supported by any facts. For instance we have sentences like this “It may be assumed that in a talented person like Manasseh, his critical faculties must have awakened rather early, and already in his youth he may have arrived at some of his nonconformist views with regard to the Halakhah and its historical development.” (p. 24). Therefore, Barzilay wants to then claim and project back on Manasseh’s early years and label him as a radical even then based only upon “his critical faculties.” While that may be the case, there are also a million other possibilities. For instance, Manasseh was influenced later in life by someone else or he came to his “nonconformist views” based upon years of study and when he was 17 (according to Barzilay, again a guess) he did not hold these views.

Another example, where Barzilay is discussing Manasseh’s frequent trips to his wealthy relatives house who had a terrific library, Barzilay makes the following statement: “The role of this library in Manasseh’s life and intellectual growth cannot be overestimated . . . It may be further assumed, with a high degree of probability, that there also were to be found there the recent works of the Berlin maskilim, as well as those of the enlightened orthodox Jews from both Eastern Europe and the Germanies.” Barzilay then goes on to cite to the many subscribers of various haskalah literature as “proof” this library contained these books. There a basic problem with this argument. Since Barzilay is able to point to where these books went to as the subscriber list, lists both person and place, why then isn’t this rich relatives name ever listed if he was a collector of such works? Instead, Barzilay is satisfied to assume that the books were there as there were many haskalah books that “found [their] way among the Jews of Eastern Europe.”

These are but two examples from a book that is rife with such sloppy work. The only redeeming fact of the book is the extensive quotation from R. Manasseh’s works. As mentioned above, this is not the first book Barzilay wrote that fails miserably. He also did another biography on R. Shlomo Yehudah Rapoport (Shir), the son-in-law of the Ketzot HaChoshen and one of the leading figures of 19th century Eastern European Haskalah. This book is also disappointing.

unfortunate, the only other biography, Ben Porat Yosef, is no gem either. It was written by Mordechai Plungian an editor at the famed Romm press. This is more of an anecdotal than scholarly work. However, this work got Plungian in trouble as some claimed he attempted to make R. Manasseh into a maskil.

What is particularly strange is that a book review of Plungin’s book appeared in HaMagid. At the JNUL site, which contains old Hebrew newspapers, the version they have appears to have that portion blacked out. The review in question appeared in HaMagid on March 8, 1858.

The full citation for Barzilay’s book is Manasseh of Ilya: Precurser of Modernity Among the Jews of Eastern Europe (Manges Press, 1999).



Ten Commandment Representations in Hebrew Manuscripts & Books: Artistic Approaches to Theological Issues in Judaism

Ten Commandment Representations in Hebrew Manuscripts & Books: Artistic Approaches to Theological Issues in Judaism

Dan Rabinowitz

Today, the Ten Commandments or Decalogue[1] are among the most prominently featured symbols associated with Judaism. The Decalogue is represented by two tablets, generally connected and rounded at the top. This representation occupies a central place within synagogue architecture, often displayed on the exterior or interior of the edifices and frequently above the ark itself, which is regarded as the most sacred element within the building. However, it is noteworthy that these practices only began to emerge in the 16th century. The exact origins of this practice remain unclear, but it is likely that they were influenced by the Christian adoption of the Ten Commandment tablets in art as representative of Judaism. Some scholars suggest that this may not be an instance of benign cultural exchange but might have its roots in anti-semitic legislation, which mandated that Jews wear badges shaped like the Ten Commandments with rounded tops. This imposition may have influenced Jewish consciousness, potentially resulting in eventual self-association with this symbol.[2]

Historical evidence indicates that the ancient Jewish community used of other symbols such as the lulav, shofar, menorah, ark, scroll, and etrog, but not the luchos. The absence of the luchos is unsurprising when one considers the inherent difficulties of accurately replicating them. There is substantial ambiguity surrounding the exact proportions and shape of the tablets. Consequently, accurate reproductions were improbable, preventing their adoption as a common, recognizable symbol. Apart from the Israelites in the desert who witnessed the Sinai revelation, the tablets were not publicly displayed but remained housed within the ark. The fact that the luchos were kept in the ark and never removed suggests that they were intentionally not intended for public display.

In contrast to other Temple implements that are meticulously described, the details of the luchos are only generally mentioned as being made of stone and numbering two. This lack of elaboration has resulted in uncertainty even regarding the inscriptions on the stones and their shape. Today, it is widely accepted that each tablet contained five commandments and can be sourced to the Mekhilta DeRebi Yishmael, Yisro (Horovitz-Rabin, 233-234); however, according to the prevailing opinion in the Talmud Yerushalmi (Shekalim 6:1; Sotah 8:3), each tablet contained the entire Decalogue. Additionally, Rav Saadia Gaon asserted that one tablet recorded the version given in Exodus, while the other contained the version from Devarim.

It was not until the early rabbinic period that there was an explicit discussion regarding the shape of the luchos. The two Talmuds are inconsistent as to the exact dimensions and shape of the tablets (and both versions appear in midrashic literature). According to the TY, the tablets were rectangular, six tefachim in length and three in width. The TB describes them as square, six by six. Some attempt to reconcile the two Talmudic versions, there is clearly no consensus are single traditional regarding the shape.[3]

Beyond the challenges in determining and reproducing accurate divisions and shapes, there is a theological concern with their display. The Mishna records that the recitation of the Decalogue was part of the daily service in the Beis haMikdash. Evidence of this practice is found in the Nash Papyrus, dating between the second and first centuries BCE. In that document, the Ten Commandments appear before the Shema. Although the Nash Papyrus is likely either tefillin or a mezuzah, it seemingly confirms inclusion in the liturgy even outside of the Temple.[4] Nonetheless, the liturgical practice was abolished by Rabban Gamaliel II of Yavne. The rationale for the abolition was that some sect, the Minim, had elevated the Decalogue above the rest of the Torah, and the continued public recitation might imply acceptance of that position.[5] It is worth noting that even when the Decalogue was incorporated into the liturgy, there is no mention of it being displayed.

None of these sources mention the most common shape, tablets with rounded tops. According to one theory, this shape was borrowed from the Roman writing tablet, the diptych, which consisted of two tablets hinged together. Regardless of the original source, the rounded-topped tablets became the standard in Christian art from at least the 12th century. Since Jews adopted the luchos as a symbol much later, roughly in the fifteenth to sixteenth centuries, they chose the most commonly recognized version, which features rounded tops.[6] 

The earliest extant depiction of the luchos appears in the Dura Europos Synagogue fresco, where Moshe is holding a scroll. While Dura Europos does not settle the issue of the shape of the tablets, it does begin to reveal some details about how the luchos iconography has evolved over time to address what can be referred to as the “minim conundrum.” The conflict between the Torah recording God delivering just the Decalogue at Sinai, whereas Jews believe that the entire Torah was given at Sinai.

Illuminated Manuscripts and the Ten Commandments: Resolving the Issue of the Minim

Many manuscripts, including Haggadahs, prayer books, and Bibles, feature imagery related to the Decalogue episode. Beyond merely illustrating the text these illustrators intentionally depicted the scene to address and resolve the minim issue and link the delivery and reception of the Decalogue with the entirety of the Torah. For example, many Ashkenazic Haggadahs include the Decalogue scene, typically accompanying the Dayenu, although two include it later in the liturgy. [7] The earliest, known as the Birds Head (dating to the beginning of the 14th century), depicts two fingers emerging from the cloud, presenting two rounded-topped tablets to Moshe. Immediately below, Moshe appears again transferring the tablets, now five, to two figures, presumably Aaron and/or Yehoshua. The dual tablets have been converted into five, referencing the Five Books of the Torah.[8] The Birds Head Haggadah’s metamorphosis during the transmission process of the two tablets into five is the only example of this solution in any Jewish (or non-Jewish) manuscripts.[9]

Figure 1: Birds Head Haggadah, fol. 23r, Israel Museum

A similar rereading of the Giving of the Law occurs in the thirteenth-century Parma Machzor. Unlike the Birds Head, which transforms the two tablets into five in their delivery, the Parma Machzor, however, depicts God giving Moshe three tablets, presumably alluding to the three books of Tanakh, the entire corpus of the Torah.[10]

Figure 2: Parma Machzor (Biblioteca Palatina, MS Parm. 2887)

Beyond transforming the tablets into more than the two mentioned in the Torah, other forms of iconographical methods were used to address the minim issue. Writing material underwent significant changes throughout the centuries. It was initially etched onto stones, like the luchos, then papyrus (like the Nash), and eventually, using animal skins that are much more resilient than papyrus, it was transformed into scrolls. Finally, “the most revolutionary invention in the history of the book” – the codex – was created at the beginning of the Common Era and became commonplace by the third century CE.[11] The codex, which we recognize as a book today, consists of individual pages written on both sides and addresses the major limitations of the scroll: the difficulty of quickly moving from one section to another and the fact that only one side could be used. Christians were the first to adopt this form sometime in the third century CE. Jews, however, adopted the book or codex much later than most other cultures, likely only in the ninth century.[12] This is unsurprising, as the scroll was not merely a device for Jews, but was imbued with special holiness.

These two forms, the scroll and codex, were used to address the minim issue. In these instances, they assumed the role of the entire torah as contrasted with the tablets, recording just the Decalogue. Scrolls are substituted for the tablets in at least two Haggadahs from the late fifteenth century (c. 1470-1480): the Nuremberg II and the Yahuda.

Figure 3: Second Nuremberg Haggadah (Center for Jewish Art)

Figure 4: Yahuda Haggadah (Center for Jewish Art)

In both, Moshe holds up an open scroll with wooden poles in a manner familiar from the hagbah ceremony. Likewise, in the well-known illuminator Joel ben Simon’s c. 1470 Machzor, now referred to as the Rothschild Weill Machzor, Moshe lifts the scroll. In a later Haggadah, known as MS 1388 Paris (1583), Moshe is holding a partially open scroll, though it is not raised like the other examples.[13] 

Figure 5: Rothschild Weill Machzor (Center for Jewish Art)

A similar image appears in the Ulm Machzor, c. 1430; however, Moshe is receiving it directly from God, echoing the approach of the Parma Machzor that there was no transformation, rather the delivery itself was the entire Torah.

Figure 6: Second Darmstadt Haggadah 9v (Center for Jewish Art)

The codex is similarly employed to address the minim issue. In the Second Darmstadt Haggadah (here), Moshe appears at the top right, beneath the shofar. He is holding two connected rectilinear tablets, hinged at the bottom. A man, dressed differently than Moshe and likely Aaron or Yehoshua, appears at the bottom right holding two separate rectilinear tablets, which are clearly sourced from Moshe. Finally, a group of Israelites appears in the bottom center of the page. The leader is now holding a book. This transforms the tablets into a book or Torah. The connection between the tablets becomes clearer as the person holding the book points to Aaron/Yehoshua and the tablets, indicating that the book’s source is the tablets and ultimately what Moshe received directly from God. Therefore, collectively, the page illustrates the transmission and transformation of the Luchos, from the ten into the Torah – received from God by Moshe, which was then handed off to Aaron and finally to the Jewish people.

Figure 7: Detail Second Nuremberg Haggadah (Center for Jewish Art)

There is perhaps another example of the codex that addresses the minim issue. In the Laud Machzor, c. 1290, the illustration for the piyyut recited on Shavous, Adon Ammani, the upper register has an angel delivering two separate rectilinear tablet while on the right side the Israelites receive a single item with a loop at the bottom. Unlike the Birds Head or other manuscripts that has the transformation into the Torah during the transmission stage; here, the only item the Israelites received was this single item with the loop. What is this unusual single panel with a loop? It may be a a codex. Manuscripts and codices were originally kept in cabinets, armaria, but in the late 13th and early 14th centuries they were more commonly placed on desks, and the practice of chaining books to prevent theft began (see here). Perhaps the loop in the Laud Machzor is a ring of a chained codex and another provides another example of using the codex to address the minim issue.

Figure 8: Laud Machzor 127r (Bodleian Library, MS Laud Or. 321)

Hebrew Book Illustrations & Anti-Jewish Representations

Illustrations in printed books, however, do not appear to be concerned with solving the minim issue. To the contrary, some iconography in printed books can be read to diminish or even undermine not only the torah’s transmission but even the continued applicability and viability of the Decalogue. Printed illustrated Hebrew books depict either Moshe receiving or transmitting the tablets or simply Moshe and the tablets without context. Of the four printed mother Haggadahs that served as models for nearly all subsequent printed illustrated Haggadahs, only one, Amsterdam 1695, depicts ma’mad har sinai. Unlike the other illustrations in that edition, which are modeled after Mathis Merian’s Bible, this illustration was borrowed from other Amsterdam Hebrew prints. As we have previously discussed, while the engraver clearly used Merian as a model he deliberately altered the images to suit the Jewish text rather than their original Christian source. Merian’s imagery for ma’amad har Sinai was entirely at odds with the Jewish view, and therefore, the illustrator sought an alternative source. Merian only depicts the sin of the Golden Calf and not the delivery or transmission of the Decalogue/Torah. That aligns with Christian theology that focuses on the sins of the Jews, rather than the monumental and exceptional example of God speaking directly to the Jews and imparting his Torah.

Figure 9: Amsterdam Haggadah, 1695 (Center for Jewish Art)

The Amsterdam Haggadah used the imagery that first appears on the titlepage of the 1679 Amsterdam Humash and reused on many subsequent editions of the Humashim from Amsterdam and other cities. Here, the mountain is in the middle and Moshe is still on top, receiving the tablets. They are square, and one is held in each of his hands. The illustration does not depict Moshe delivering the Torah or tablets; therefore, it does not address the tension between the Decalogue and the torah. Nonetheless, arguably implicitly, the inclusion of the image on a title page of a Humash, obviates the need to include additional imagery for the minim issue – Moshe receiving the tablets is literally attached and is the precursor to the entire Torah.

Figure 10: Humash, Amsterdam, 1679 (Gross Family Collection)

While the Decalogue scene does not appear in the other mother Haggadahs, Moshe with the luchos is used as one of the border figures in the Venice 1609 Haggadah. Moshe is carrying two connected round-topped tablets and has a light emanating from his forehead. This illustration of Moshe and the luchos is among the most common title page illustrations in Hebrew books.

Figure 11: Title Page Shu”t Rashba, Hanau, 1610 (Gross Family Collecdtion)

It first appears adorning the titlepage of Shu”T Maharil, Hanau, 1610. However, that image was clearly borrowed from a non-Jewish source. Moshe has horns, with rounded topped tablets, and is flanked by Aaron wearing a bishop’s mitre and holding a censer.[14] There is another nuance to the image that may also specifically Chrisitan, and more important theologically than whether Moshe had horns or light emanating from his head. Unlike the Jewish sources discussed above, Moshe does not hold the tablets aloft. Rather, they are standing on the ground, his hand on top. This aligns with the Christian view of the Decalogue; after Jesus, it was relegated to a secondary role or was even superseded by the New Testament. The depiction in Shu”T Hashiv R’ Eliezer, published in 1749 in Neuwied, Germany, presents a particularly striking variation. In this volume, Moshe’s hand is shown flat, seemingly serving to drive down the tablets into the ground rather than grasping them, as seen in the Hanua prints. Additionally, unlike other works that either show some of the text on the tablets or leave them blank, Hashiv depicts the tablets filled with lines, effectively obscuring or erasing any text.

Figure 12: Shu”t Hashiv Reb Eliezer, Neuwied, 1748

The unique nature of Hashiv’s title page is amplified when compared with to similar title pages, one may have even served as the a model for Hashiv. Critically, that title page includes subtle yet significant modifications. For example, David Gans, a disciple of Maharal, in his work Sefer Nitzahon, published in Altdorf in 1644, created one of the most exquisite Hebrew title pages. It features a similar depiction of Moshe as seen in Hashiv, with his hand resting atop the tablets that include some lines, resembling Hashiv. However, these tablets prominently display the Hebrew “Aseres ha-Dibros,” clearly underscoring their importance.

Figure 13: Sefer Nitzhon, Altdorf, 1644

Another contrary example is Yefeh Anaf, by R. Shmuel Jaffe, Frankfurt a.d. Order, 1696, which depicts a Jewish Moshe with rays emanating from his head, holding round-topped tablets with the beginning of each directive in Hebrew.

Like the three manuscripts discussed above, there is another title page that features Moshe with a scroll instead of tablets. This title page, which appears in a number of different Amsterdam books, for example, Sefer Shenei Luchos ha-Bris, Amsterdam, 1698, Yad Yosef, Amsterdam, 1700, and Eshlei Ravrevei, Amsterdam, 1711, is an amalgamation of four biblical figures, each symbolizing one of the four crowns: Torah (Moshe), priesthood (Aaron), kingship (Dovid), and a good name (Shlomo).

Figure 14: Shnei Luchos ha-Bris, Amsterdam, 1698

A later Amsterdam edition of the Humash combines all three Amsterdam illustrations on the title page. The 1827 Amsterdam Humash features Carl Christian Fuchs’s engraved title page. At the top is the image of Moshe accepting the two square tablets. Moshe appears below on the left, holding round-topped tablets with lines representing the text, and in the center is a crown of Torah. Fuchs includes another Amsterdam illustration at the bottom of the page, this one from the 1695 Haggadah, which depicts the temple.

Figure 15: Humash, Amsterdam, 1827

There is another unique depiction of the tablets on an early 19th-century title page. In the third edition of Mendelsohn’s Humash, Fürth, 1801-1803, Moshe and Aaron flank the title page. However, Moshe, with rays, holds only his staff. In the central image, the ark of the covenant is present, and the two tablets, with rounded tops, are superimposed in the foreground.

Figure 16: Derech Selulah, Fürth, 1802 (Gross Family Collection)

One printed book, however, R. Yosef Ergas’ Shomer Emunim (Amsterdam, 1736), may be a unique example that specifically addresses the minim issue. This work, which discusses the legitimacy of Rabbinic Judaism, includes a representation within a circular design surrounded by laurel leaves at the center of the upper register. Initially, the figure appears to be Moshe holding the luchos. However, the accompanying legend identifies the figure as “Rabbenu ha-Kodesh,” Rabbi Yehudah ha-Nasi, the compiler of the Mishna and a key figure in rabbinic Judaism. This suggests that the Mishna – Rebi Yehuda’s text – is synonymous with the luchos.

Figure 17: Shomer Emunim, Amsterdam, 1736 (Moreshet Auctions)

This interpretation is further supported when compared to the title page model for Shomer Emunim, David Nieto’s Matteh Dan, Kuzari ha-Sheni, (London, 1724). This work also defends rabbinic Judaism and depicts the figure labeled “Rabbenu ha-Kodesh” encircled in the upper register, but he is holding a book with the inscription “Mishna.” The printers of Shomer Emunim modeled the title page on Matteh Dan, yet went further in visually equating the Mishna with the Decalogue.

Figure 18: Matte Dan, London, 1714 (Moreshet Auctions)

Except for the Amsterdam prints, title page illustrations consistently show round-topped tablets, unlike Hebrew manuscripts where tablet shapes vary. This likely stems from printing developing after Christian art standardized the round-topped representation. Table 1 summarizes twenty-two manuscripts depicting the tablets, with no consistent shape linked to a specific era or region. In one instance both rounded and rectilinear shapes in the same manuscript.[15] In the Sarajevo Haggadah, the tablets appear on two separate panels (panels 30 and 32): once when Moshe receives and conveys the Decalogue, and a second time in the scene depicting what may be the Tabernacle, Solomon’s Temple, or the Messianic Temple.[16] In the first instance, the tablets are rounded, while in the second, they are rectilinear. It is conceivable, though admittedly improbable, that the original designs were rounded and depicted in the first panel. However, in the second panel depicting the temple, when the decision was made to construct the ark with a square shape, the tops may have been removed to ensure a better fit.

The Ultimate Message of Har Sinai

One final manuscript illustration is notable not only for the shape or material of the tablets, but for the broader message it conveys. The entire nation was present at ma’amad Har Sinai, including men, women, and children. The Dresden Machzor, circa 1290, depicts Moshe receiving the tablets on the upper right of the panel. On the left side of the top register, Moshe delivers them to a kneeling woman, with no men depicted. This representation indicates that the Torah was given to and applies to everyone equally. The shape itself conveys a universal message. The luchos feature rounded tablets within a rectangular frame, symbolizing that everyone fits within Judaism’s broad parameters.

Figure 19: Dresden Machzor, c. 1290 (MS Dresd. A.46A, 202)

Table 1: Manuscripts & the Shape of the Tablets

Square/Rectilinear

Rounded

Scroll
1. Laud Machzor (Southern Germany, c. 1290, Bodleian, Laud Or. 321, fol. 127v) Birds Head Haggadah (Southern Germany, c. 1300, Israel Museum, MS 180/57, fol. 23) Nuremberg II Haggadah (1470-1480, Schocken Library, MS 24087)
2. Rothschild Machzor (Florence, 1492, JTS, fol. 139) Sarajevo Haggadah (Spain, 14th Century, Sarajevo Museum) Yahuda Haggadah (mid 15th century, Israel Museum, MS 180/50)
3. Tripartite Machzor (Southern Germany, c. 1320, British Library, MS. Add. 22413, f. 3r) Parma Machzor (13th century, Western Ashkenaz, Parma, Biblioteca Palatina, MS Parm. 2887, fol. 101v) Rothschild Weill Machzor (c. 1470, NLI, MS 804450, fol. 203)
4. Schocken Bible (Southern Germany, c. 1300, Schocken Library, MS. 14840, fol. iv) Dresden Machzor (1290, Mscr. Dresd. A.46.a, fol. 408) MS 1388 Paris (1583, Bibliothèque Nat., MS 1338, fol. 14r)
5. Regensburg Pentateuch (Regensburg?, c. 1300, Israel Museum, MS 180/52, fol. 154v) Ulm-Treviso Siddur (1450-1453, Parma, Biblioteca Palatina, MS Parm. 2895, fol. 271)
6. Sarajevo Haggadah (Spain, 14th Century, Sarajevo Museum) Floersheim Haggadah (1502, Zurich, Floersheim Collection, fol. 15).
7. First Leningrad Bible Egypt, (?) 929, fragment (Leningrad Public Library, MS II 17)
8. Parma Bible (Parma, Biblioteca Palatina, MS Parm. 2710, fol. 3r)
9. King’s Bible (Catalonia, Spain, 1384, MS King’s 1, f. 3v)
10. Catalan Bible (Catalonia, Spain, third quarter of 14th century, MS Add. 15250, f. 3v)
11. Harley Catalan Bible (Catalonia, Spain, c. 1350, MS Harley 1528, f. 8r)
12. Darmstadt Haggadah II (Universitäts-und Landesbibliothek, Darmstadt, Cod. Or 28, fol. 9v)

[1] Although these terms are inaccurate because the Torah does not refer to them as commandments, huqqim, mitzvos, or mishpatim, rather aseres hadivarim or aseres hadibros, nonetheless, as that is the most widespread description we use that term.
[2] See generally, Gad Ben-Ami Sarfatti, “The Tablets of the Covenant as a Symbol of Judaism,” in The Ten Commandments, As Reflected in Tradition and Literature Throughout the Ages, ed. Ben-Zion Segal (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1985)(Hebrew), 353-388; Ruth Mellinkoff “Round-topped Tablets of the Law,” Journal of Jewish Art I (1974): 28–43.

Almost immediately after the luchos were displayed in synagogues, some argued that their display contravened the injunction against elevating the Decalogue above the rest of the Torah. The first to raise this issue was Rabbi Yom Tov Lipmann Heller. He describes how one synagogue in Prague displayed them and equates the display with the public reading, subsequently banning the practice. Rabbi Heller, who served as the rabbi of the Altneu Synagogue (Old-New Synagogue), incorporated other symbols within the building. The walls bear various abbreviations corresponding to verses that describe the decorum and purpose of prayer. The ark is flanked by two lions at the top, and the luchos do not appear anywhere within the synagogue. Rabbi Heller was most likely referring to the Maisel’s Synagogue which, today, displays the luchos above the ark. This synagogue was originally built in the 1590s. However, since it burnt down in 1689 we cannot be certain that the design of the ark was the same during Rabbi Heller’s lifetime. Whether or not this was the synagogue Rabbi Heller referenced, it serves as an example of how his opinion never gained traction even in Prague. Indeed, the Maisel’s Synagogue also displays the Decalogue on the exterior of the building, as does the Baroque Synagogue (originally built in 1622/23, also destroyed in the 1689 fire). The Klausen Synagogue’s building was completed in 1694, and its ark is topped by the luchos. For more information, see Prague Synagogues (Jewish Museum in Prague: 2011), which includes photographs of the synagogues and descriptions of their respective histories.

For a discussion of the issue of Decalogue displays in synagogues see Yechiel Goldhaver, Minhagei ha-Kehilos, vol. 1 (Jerusalem: 2005), 45-48n1, who collects examples throughout Europe of synagogues with the luchos displays as well as sources discussing the propriety of the practice.

Regading contemporary sources that discuss what shape to use for the luchos, rounded, square or rectangular, see Reuven Chaim Klein, “Square versus Rounded,” available here. Of note is the opinion of R. Yisroel Yaakov Fisher, Chief Rabbi of Badatz Eidah Chareidis, who argues, the contra-historical position, that the original tablets were rounded. Indeed, according to Fisher, there were rounded at the top and bottom.
[3]  See Chaim Kenefsky, Baraysa d’Melehes ha–Mishkan, Da’as (Beni Brak, 1996), 38, and Meir Ish Shalom, Beritah, 43; see also Menahem Silber, “Aron ha-Edus ve-Luchot ha-Bris: Tzurotom u-Tavnesam,” in Sefer ha-Zikhron le-Rebi Moshe Lifschitz, ed. Rafael Rosenbaum (New York: 1996), 236-42; see also, Midrash Devarim Rabba, ed. Saul Liebermann (Jerusalem: Shalem, 1992)122n2.
[4] See Ephraim Urbach, “The Place of the Ten Commandments in Ritual and Prayer,” (Hebrew), in Ten Commandments, ed. Segal, 128.
[5] See Urbach, “Place,” 132-136, 138-142; Von V. Aptowitzer, “Bemerkungen zur Liturgie und Geschichte der Liturgie,” MGWJ 74 (1930), 104-115. Both also attempt to identity of the sect of the minim.
[6] See Mellinkoff, “Round-Top.”
[7] See generally, Sarit Shalev-Eyni, “Receiving the Law: Visual Language and Communal Identity in Medieval Ashkenaz,” Gesta 55(2), (Fall 2016), 239-255. Shalev-Eyni discusses many of the examples below.
[8] See Marc Michael Epstein, The Medieval Haggadah: Art, Narrative, and Religious Imagination (Yale Univ. Press, New Haven, 2011), 90; Metzger, Haggadah, 303. Metzger demonstrates that the second figure is also Moshe. Id.
[9] Metzger, Haggadah, 303.
[10] Shalev-Eyni, “Receiving of the Law,” 246-249.
[11] Anthony Grafton, “From Roll to Codex: A Christian Initiative,” in Crossing Borders, Hebrew Manuscripts as a Meeting-place of Cultures, ed. Piet van Boxel and Sabine Arndt (Bodleian Library, Oxford, 2012), 15.
[12] Grafton, “Roll,” 20.
[13] Metzger, Haggadah, 305.
[14] Regarding the image of the horned Moshe see Ruth Mellinkoff, The Horned Moses in Medieval Art and Thought (University of California Press: Berkeley, 1970. For a collection of articles discussing the depiction of Moshe throughout history and reproductions of many examples, see Moïse Figures d’un Prophète, ed. Juliette Braillon, (Musée d’Art et d’Histoire du Judaïsme: Paris, 2015).
[15] The Sarajevo Haggadah is the only Haggadah manuscript from the Sefard tradition that depicts the Giving of the Torah. While the Sephardic manuscripts precede the Haggadah text with the Biblical Cycle from Genisis to Exodus, the remaining Haggadahs end before the episode at Mount Sinai. See Metzger, Haggadah, 302.
[16] See Shalom Sabar, The Sarajevo Haggadah History & Art (Sarajevo: 2018), 233-235; 239-241. Sabar only offers Solomon’s Temple or the Messianic Temple. Nonetheless, it is equally possible that this panel simply depicts what follows the Giving of the Law, the construction of the Tabernacle.



“Improved” Making of a Godol

R. Nathan Kamenetsky has republished the first volume of his book, “Making of a Godol.” This new edition is labeled “Improved Edition.” The reasons for the improvements are well-known. The original edition was placed under a ban due to perceived slights in the honor of certain Gedolim.

In this new edition, there is a helpful index which shows what exactly has been improved upon. According to the index only one story has been removed in it’s entirety. That story, in which R. A. Kotler responded to an interruption during his shiur from a “red-bearded scholar.” R. Kotler responded by saying “Red Heifer, be still!” This was removed due to the source of the story. Apparently, the source for this particular story did not support R. Kamenetsky when R. Kamenetsky questioned the validity of the ban, and thus R. Kamenetsky did not want to include this persons comments.

According to the index there are no more omissions in this new edition. Instead, there are numerous elaborations, corrections, and a significant amount of new information. R. Kamenetsky states in one of the first “elaborations” that “the unexpected ban issued on the original, unimproved, version” helped the current edition be of value for all time.

unfortunately, this improved edition still suffers from a serious lack of editorial oversight. Although, the book has been altered to conform and appease those that issued a ban, it was not altered to make it more reader friendly. The improved edition still utilizes the same format of text followed by excursuses with numerous footnotes and tangents. It still requires, as R. Kamenetsky points out, a pencil and paper to be able to be able to flip back and forth through the book and keep track of what page one is on.

There is one important addition to the book, while not solving all the difficulties, at least alleviates some of them. R. Kamenetsky included a timeline line which tracks both significant events in world history with a parallel timeline that tracks significant Jewish events. When the Jewish events appear in the book, R. Kamenetsky included a footnote to alert the reader which page they can be found on. This allows, if one so desires, to read the book in a chronological order.

Although, the original book was only $40 (when it was published, subsequent to the ban the book was selling and continues to sell for outrageous prices) this improved version is $125. I assume that the steep raise in price was to allow for R. Kamenetsky to recoup some of his losses he suffered from the first edition. There were only 1,000 copies of the first edition published, however, R. Kamenetsky stopped selling and ordered his distributor to stop distributing them once the ban was pronounced. While it is impossible to know with certainty, this probably left him with numerous unsold copies thus causing significant loss. R. Kamenetsky implemented this policy even though he stood to profit immensely from the ban, he has said he felt bound by the ban even if he felt it was unjust.



Rambam’s Response to the Inclusion of Chicken, Duck and Quail in Qaraite Cuisine

Rambam’s Response to the Inclusion
of Chicken, Duck and Quail in Qaraite Cuisine
By Tzvi H. Adams

In “Waiting
Six Hours for Dairy- A Rabbanite Response to Qaraism” (here)
I posited that Rabbeinu Chananel initiated the practice of waiting six hours
between meat and dairy in order to protect Rabbanite values. This association
was inspired by Dr. Bernard Revel’s studies of 
Rabbanite leaders’ efforts to counter sectarian influences during the
early Middle Ages[1], as well as a shiur by
Rabbi David Bar-Hayim. I then
suggested that Rambam furthered this anti-Qaraite motion by including poultry
into the required six hour waiting category. Rambam’s poultry innovation was intended
to protect Rabbanites from influence of their Qaraite neighbors who cooked meat
and poultry with dairy. Briefly, this latter suggestion was based upon two observations:

a) The simple reading of the Talmud Chullin
104b -עוף וגבינה נאכלין באפיקורן – בלא נטילת ידים ובלא קינוח הפה- as interpreted
by the Gaonim and rishonim for five centuries until Rambam, allowed poultry and
dairy to be consumed consecutively without even kinuach ve’hadacha in
between. Unless we imagine that Rambam possessed a secret hitherto unheard-of
tradition which understood the Talmud’s words in some other fashion, we can
assume that Rambam actually changed the Talmudic halacha in his Yad. Being
the strong proponent of Rabbanite halacha and tradition that he was, Rambam
surely had a compelling reason to make this drastic alteration.

b) There are many instances of
anti-Qaraite creativity in Rambam’s writings and rulings. Examples include:

§ 
Rambam was the first rishon to
disqualify a get (divorce document) written in a Qaraite court by a
Qaraite scribe[2].
§ 
Though the Gaonim and R. Chananel
explicitly say that not eating on the three minor fast days is the individual’s
choice (as per the Talmud’s ruling RH 18b- אין שמד ואין
שלום – רצו – מתענין, רצו – אין מתענין), Rambam chose to
overlook this detail about fast days in his halachic writings. The purpose of
this intentional omission was almost certainly to separate Rabbanites from the
Qaraite community who did not observe the Rabbanite fasting calendar[3].
§ 
Most rishonim recognized the
rabbinic origins of the Yom Kippur afflictions other than not eating or
drinking. Rambam, however, led readers to believe that all five afflictions are
biblically proscribed. It seems that Rambam presented the Yom Kippur restrictions
in this way only to protect the halacha from the Qaraite perspective[4]. 

Other examples were cited in my previous article. It is therefore reasonable to
say that the required waiting period between poultry and dairy, found first in Yad
HaChazaka, is one more instance of Rambam’s anti-Qaraitic halachic
reformation.

An
analysis of the historical development of Qaraite rules of kosher birds strongly
supports my suggestion[5].
Qaraite halacha did not rely on the Rabbanite Oral Law. Therefore, the kosher
signs of the Mishna Hullin 59a –
 וסימני העוף לא נאמרו אבל אמרו
חכמים כל עוף הדורס טמא כל שיש לו אצבע יתירה וזפק וקורקבנו נקלף טהור ר’ אלעזר
בר’ צדוק אומר כל עוף החולק את רגליו טמא
and the statement of the Talmud Hullin
63b, עוף
טהור נאכל במסורת, were of little
significance to Qaraites. That chicken, duck, quail and other fowl were eaten in
Rabbanite tradition[vi] was
unreliable evidence for these strict Scriptualists. Because the identity of most birds mentioned in the Torah
was ambiguous, Qaraites had no reliable means of recognizing birds as kosher other
than the pigeon and turtledove; they were confident that the correct
translation of תור and יונה had been preserved. The devout Qaraite, therefore, could not
partake of chicken, quail, or duck. Over time, some Qaraites communities became
lenient and found legal rationale to permit these commonly eaten birds. Slowly
over the 12th Description: https://ssl.gstatic.com/ui/v1/icons/mail/images/cleardot.gifand 13th
centuries a lenient policy was adopted by the broad Qaraite community. Because
from the inception of Qaraism its scholars read the passuk, “לא
תבשל גדי בחלב אמו” literally[7],
they had no hesitations against eating and cooking the newly accepted fowl and
dairy together. 

            The
Rabbanite and Qaraite communities were very much interconnected politically and
socially[8];
the divide between the parties was often blurred[9].
Rabbanite leaders sought to protect the integrity of their tradition from sectarian
influence. I demonstrated previously how R. Chananel (990 -1053) and his
disciple, R. Yitchak Al-fasi[10]
(1013
– 1103), created a six hour waiting requirement
between meat and dairy in the early eleventh century – thereby limiting the
social participation of Rabbanites with Qaraites. During the years of the legislating
activity of these sages it was not common practice amongst Qaraites to eat
chicken, duck, and quail, birds on the daily North African Rabbanite menu[11]. R.
Chananel and R. Al-fasi, therefore, did not see a need for demanding a wait
after poultry as there was little concern that Rabbanites and Qaraites would be
dining together over such fowl. Furthermore, it was difficult to reread the
obvious permitting statement of the Talmud, עוף וגבינה
נאכלין באפיקורן. During the century between these sages
and the rise of Rambam (1135-1204) to prominence, Qaraites widely allowed
themselves to eat the same fowl consumed by the Rabbanite community. Now a
Qaraite-Rabbanite poultry dinner was possible and influence from the cooking
practices of “the eaters of milk with meat” (the nickname for Qaraites) was
real. Rambam, seeking to protect Rabbanite tradition from Qaraite values by
building social barriers, creatively placed fowl alongside meat in the
requirement to wait six hours before dairy:
מִי
שֶׁאָכַל בָּשָׂר בַּתְּחִלָּה, בֵּין בְּשַׂר בְּהֵמָה בֵּין בְּשַׂר עוֹף–לֹא
יֹאכַל אַחֲרָיו חָלָב עַד שֶׁיִּשְׁהֶה בֵּינֵיהֶן כְּדֵי שֵׁעוּר סְעוֹדָה
אַחֶרֶת, וְהוּא כְּמוֹ שֵׁשׁ שָׁעוֹת:  מִפְּנֵי
הַבָּשָׂר שֶׁלְּבֵין הַשִּׁנַּיִם, שְׁאֵינוּ סָר בְּקִנּוּחַ
(רמב”ם משנה תורה מאכלות אסורות פרק ט’
הלכה כז)
This addition did not
go unnoticed. In the two generations following Rambam, the greatest rishonim
criticized the Rambam’s reform as it reversed the ruling of the Bavli. Ramban
(1194-1270) was the first to challenge Rambam’s alteration:

…
אבל הרמב”ן ז”ל כתב דאגרא אפילו עוף ואחר כך גבינה שרא דלישנא הכי משמע
דקאמר עוף וגבינה…(ר”ן על הרי”ף חולין דף לז’)
R. Aaron Halevi
(1230-1300) also challenged Rambam’s ruling:
…ואפילו
הכי שרינן בעוף בלא נטילת ידים משום דקיל דלא מיתסר אלא מדרבנן, ודאי לא שני לן
בין עוף ואחר כך גבינה בין גבינה ואחר כך עוף… הוא הדין לקנוח הפה דלא בעינן
אפי’ בין עוף לגבינה…. ולהוציא קצת מדברי רבי’ ז”ל (=הרמב”ם) שפרשו
דההיא דאגרא דאמר עוף וגבנה נאכלין באפיקורן דוקא גבינה תחילה ואחר כך עוף…
(חידושי רא”ה לחולין דף קד’)
However, within a
century of the publication of Mishna Torah, creative ways of
reinterpreting the words of אגרא were created to fit
this new reform into the Talmud[12].
Tur (1275-1340) YD 89 cites Rambam’s ruling on poultry as if none other exists.
Professor Daniel Frank has thoroughly examined the historical
development of the laws of kosher birds in Qaraite halacha in his monograph,
“May Karaites Eat Chicken? Indeterminacy in Sectarian Halakhic Exegesis”[13].
My chiddush is that the inclusion of chicken, duck, and quail in Qaraite
cuisine in the 12th century provoked Rambam’s tightening of the
poultry and dairy separation laws. Unless noted otherwise, the following
sources and translations are summarized from Frank’s article:

Views of Early Qaraite Scholars
Anan ben David
In his Book of Commandments[14], the early learned schismatic, Anan
ben David (c. 715 – c. 795) writes the following:
Now we do not find any birds were
used for burnt offerings save turtledoves and pigeons, as it is written… (in
lev. 1:14). The juxtaposition of the words ‘of every clean bird’ and ‘he
offered burnt offerings’ thus proves that the only clean birds are turtledoves
and pigeons.
Benjamin Nahawandi
One
of the greatest of the Qaraite scholars of the early ninth century, Benjamin Nahawandi, states:
The only clean birds that can be
eaten are the pigeon and its kind. There are many clean and unclean varieties…
but they cannot be identified by means of physical criteria, since Scripture
does not make these explicit. … The pigeon is (the bird) that makes the cooing
noise in is throat, as it is stated: We coo like doves (Is. 59:11)….
Therefore the only clean bird that is mentioned is the pigeon and its kind[15].
The identification of other clean birds remains uncertain
because the Torah provides no physical description of the birds. Pigeons (and
their turtledove subspecies) are an exception because the Scriptural verse, We
coo like doves (Is. 59:11), gives a physical sign to identify the
bird.  
Daniel al-Qumisi
Daniel al-Qumisi (d. in Jerusalem 946), founder of the Qaraite
“Mourners of Zion” movement, likewise insisted that because Biblical Hebrew is no longer
the vernacular, the meaning of most of the birds of the Torah has been
forgotten; “for God-fearing people, the only permitted birds are turtledoves,
pigeons and wild pigeons- at least until the coming of the Righteousness”[16].
He attacks the Rabbanites for having invented physical criteria for identifying
kosher birds- as Scripture does not supply these.
Jacob Al-Qirqisani
The
early tenth century Qaraite dogmatist and exegete, Jacob Al-Qirqisani writes similarly
in his Kitabal-Anwar (written in 937):
Should someone say, “The people
already knew these signs via oral tradition from the prophet…” He may be
answered: “As for your statement that the people used to know these signs via
oral tradition from the prophet- this is (but) a claim. You have no proof of
this….”[17]
Japeth ben Ali
The maskil
ha-Golah and
foremost Qariate Bible commentator, Japeth ben Ali (10th century, born in Iraq
and died in Jerusalem), emphasized that pigeons and turtledoves are the only
unquestionably permitted birds; all other species should be avoided.
Of all the birds, those which are
demonstrably permitted are turtledove and pigeon…. As for chicken, mountain
quail, partridge, duck, goose, crane, sparrow, and others- we must suspend
judgement concerning them all- “until he comes and teaches righteousness”
(Hos.10:12)[18]
Rabbanite Rishonim


The rishonim were very familiar with Qaraite claims.

R. Saadya Gaon
In response to Qaraite scholars, R. Saadya Gaon (882-942) addresses the topic
of the identification of the birds of the Torah in his writings[19],
delivering anti-sectarian polemics.

Targum Psuedo-Yonathan[20]

Dr. Bernard Revel proved in his “תרגום יונתן על
התורה” (here) that the Targum Yonathan (ben
Uziel) was really an early ninth century targum commissioned by the Torah sages
of Eretz Yisroel. He demonstrated that this targum is filled with views of the
Talmud Yerushalmi as well as interpretations aimed at countering sectarian
movements. (here)

וית אלין מינייא תשקצון מן עופא דלית
להון ציבעא יתירא ודלית ליה זפקתא ודקורקבניה ליתוהי מקליף לא יתאכלון (תרגום
יונתן ויקרא יא:יג)
The Targum’s author included the physical criteria for
kosher birds to imply that these signs are contained within the Torah itself
and valid- unlike the views of early Qaraites who disregarded these signs only
known by rabbinic tradition.
Mah-Yedidut [21]

The popular Friday night zemer, Mah-Yedidut, by Menachem (possibly ben
Saruq[22],
920-980 Spain), highlights the differences between the Rabbanite and Qaraite
Sabbath. Menachem emphasizes the obligations of kavod  ve’oneg Shabbos (לְבוּשׁ
בִּגְדֵי חֲמוּדוֹת
and עֹֽנֶג קְרָא לַשַּׁבָּת[23],
וְהַשֵּׁנָה מְשֻׁבַּֽחַת)
and kindling Sabbath lights ([24]לְהַדְלִיק
נֵר בִּבְרָכָה),
the permissibility of thinking of post-Sabbath work ([25]הִרְהוּרִים
מֻתָּרִים)
and gives an allusion to marital relations        (כַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים
סוּגָה[26],
בּוֹ יָנֽוּחוּ בֵּן וּבַת וְלָנֽוּחַ בְּחִבַּת) – all points of contention between
Qaraites and Rabbanites.
מַה
יְּדִידוּת מְנוּחָתֵךְ, אַתְּ שַׁבָּת הַמַּלְכָּה, 
בְּכֵן נָרוּץ לִקְרָאתֵךְ, בּֽוֹאִי כַלָּה נְסוּכָה, 
לְבוּשׁ בִּגְדֵי חֲמוּדוֹת, לְהַדְלִיק נֵר בִּבְרָכָה, 
וַתֵּֽכֶל כָּל הָעֲבוֹדוֹת, לֹא תַעֲשׂוּ מְלָאכָה. 
לְהִתְעַנֵּג בְּתַעֲנוּגִים בַּרְבּוּרִים וּשְׂלָו
וְדָגִים. 
מֵעֶֽרֶב מַזְמִינִים, כָּל מִינֵי מַטְעַמִּים, 
מִבְּעוֹד יוֹם מוּכָנִים, תַּרְנְגוֹלִים מְפֻטָּמִים, 
וְלַעֲרֹךְ כַּמָּה מִינִים, שְׁתוֹת יֵינוֹת מְבֻשָּׂמִים, 
וְתַפְנוּקֵי מַעֲדַנִּים, בְּכָל שָׁלֹשׁ פְּעָמִים. 
לְהִתְעַנֵּג בְּתַעֲנוּגִים בַּרְבּוּרִים וּשְׂלָו
וְדָגִים.  

חֲפָצֶֽיךָ
בּוֹ אֲסוּרִים, וְגַם לַחֲשֹׁב חֶשְׁבּוֹנוֹת, 
הִרְהוּרִים מֻתָּרִים, וּלְשַׁדֵּךְ הַבָּנוֹת, 
וְתִינוֹק לְלַמְּדוֹ סֵֽפֶר, לַמְנַצֵּֽחַ בִּנְגִינוֹת, 
וְלַהֲגוֹת בְּאִמְרֵי שֶֽׁפֶר, בְּכָל פִּנּוֹת וּמַחֲנוֹת. 
לְהִתְעַנֵּג בְּתַעֲנוּגִים בַּרְבּוּרִים וּשְׂלָו וְדָגִים. 
הִלּוּכָךְ תְּהֵא בְנַֽחַת, עֹֽנֶג קְרָא לַשַּׁבָּת, 
וְהַשֵּׁנָה מְשֻׁבַּֽחַת, כְּדָת נֶֽפֶשׁ מְשִׁיבַת, 
בְּכֵן נַפְשִׁי לְךָ עָרְגָה, וְלָנֽוּחַ בְּחִבַּת, 
כַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים סוּגָה, בּוֹ יָנֽוּחוּ בֵּן וּבַת. 
לְהִתְעַנֵּג בְּתַעֲנוּגִים בַּרְבּוּרִים וּשְׂלָו
וְדָגִים.

The poet sings of Rabbanite dishes: stuffed chicken (תַּרְנְגוֹלִים
מְפֻטָּמִים),
duck or goose (בַּרְבּוּרִים),
and quail (שְׂלָו)[27]
– poultry one would not find at Qaraite meals. By mentioning these items
Rabbanite tradition is strengthened and cherished.

Byzantium 


Constantinople was a thriving
center of Qaraism during much of the Middle Ages. The Byzantine Rabbanite, Tobiah ben Eliezer (late 11th – early 12th
centuries), often attacks Qaraite ideas[28]
in his Medrash Lekach Tov (written in 1097 and revised it in 1107 or
1108). In Vayikra[29],
Tobiah emphasizes that “generation after generation” birds eaten by the
Byzantine Rabbanites have been permitted: ועוף טהור נאכל
במסורת דור אחר דור כגון האווז ואווז בר ותרנגולת. This indicates that in
his lifetime Byzantine Qaraites refrained from eating the chicken, goose, and
duck.

However, only half a century later, the Byzantine Qaraite scholar, Judah Hadassi, tells that many of
his landsmen allowed themselves to partake of these fowl. In his Eshkol
ha-Kofer (1148), Hadassi notes this transition in Qaraite law with
disapproval:
Now some of the (Karaite) teachers
approved those domestic fowl, which are customarily raised in their home. (They
did so) because this was the choice of the entire nation, not because there are
any scriptural allusions that justify or confirm (this practice). Happy is he
who guards himself wholeheartedly against uncertainties so that he is stringent
in all (matters pertaining) to ritual slaughter! For knowledge of the Holy
Tongue has disappeared from our midst, and we no longer know the names of (the
birds) so as to recognize which is permitted and which is forbidden to us.
Therefore we will remain silent until (Elijah) comes and teaches us
righteousness. But if we rely upon custom (minhag) and tradition, does
this tradition not take away from and add to our Torah, even contradicting it
in part?
Eventually, the lenient approach to the kosher status of
chicken and duck became the norm and the Qaraite Nicomedian theologian, Aaron ben Elijah
(1328-1369), states definitely in his Gan
Eden (1354):
Since knowledge of our language has
now become deficient during our exile, we do not know the clean species. All
that remains in fact, is knowledge of several of the names (mentioned) in
Scripture and those known via the tradition (sevel ha-yerushah[30]),
such as pigeon, turtledove, quail, partridge, swan, chicken, and goose. For it
has been transmitted, one person from the next, that these are raised
domestically and that they are permitted…[31]
Spain


These transformations in Qaraite halacha were taking place in the Byzantine
Empire during Rambam’s lifetime though geographically removed from him. The
Rambam did correspond with students and scholars from France to Syria and even
had knowledge of a Jewish community in India. We also see in Rambam much
anti-Qaraite activity. It can be assumed that Rambam had his finger on the
pulse of nuances in Qaraites halachic and cultural development. However, Rambam
may have had an even more intimate knowledge of these developments. There is
evidence that the Qaraite fowl ‘kosherification’ process was taking place in
Rambam’s very own mother country, Spain, while Rambam was yet a young man:
R. Yehuda Halevi (1075 – 1141) writes
in his Kuzari (completed
around 1140):
והייתי
רוצה כי ישיבו לי הקראים תשובה מספקת על זה… ועוד רוצה הייתי כי יבארו לי מה בין
העוף המותר לבין העוף האסור (זולת העופות המפרסמים כיונה ותור) ומנין להם כי
התרנגלת והאוז והברוז והתכי אינם מן העופות הטמאים (כוזרי ג:לה)
 I wish the Qaraites would give me a
satisfactory answer to questions of this kind… I desire an explanation of the
lawful and unlawful birds, excepting the common ones, such as the pigeon and
turtledove. How do they know that the hen, goose, duck, and partridge are not
unclean birds?” (Kuzari 3:35)
This passage indicates that by the 1130s, (note- Rambam was
born in 1135), Qaraites in Spain permitted the consumption of the same fowl
eaten by the Rabbanites[32].

Rambam lived at the end of the Qaraite Golden Age. He observed many Rabbanites
leave the fold for Qaraism and a weakened respect for the Oral Torah in the
Rabbanite community[33].
Witnessing Qaraites begin to consume many birds eaten by the Rabbanite
community, Rambam feared that his followers would be influenced by Qaraite
meat/poultry and milk cooking practices. He tightened baasar be’cholov
laws – a process begun a century earlier by R. Chananel – by requiring a six
hour wait for poultry as well.

Many people ask, “If the political anti-Qaraite origins of
the six hour wait are correct, why was this fact not expressed by rishonim and
medieval writers?” In “Waiting Six Hours for Dairy- A Rabbanite
Response to Qaraism”, I cited the opinion of R. Tam and others that R.
Chananel’s six hour ruling was instituted merely because בקעא
מצאו
וגדרו
בה
גדר. There was indeed some awareness of
social-political causation. However, the anti-Qaraite purpose of Rambam’s
poultry-wait innovation went unnoted. Rambam had discreetly inserted fowl
alongside genuine meat in his Mishna Torah. Many later authorities may
have assumed that Rambam, the scion of an illustrious rabbinical family,
possessed an alternative method of interpreting the Talmud. The reason why R.
Chananel, R. Al-fasi, and Rambam did not disclose the reasons for their
halachic reforms is readily understood in light of the following passage:
…דאמר
עולא כי גזרי גזירתא במערבא לא מגלו טעמא עד תריסר ירחי שתא דלמא איכא איניש דלא
ס”ל ואתי לזלזולי בה (ע”ז לה ע”א)
In
Eretz Yisroel when a decree was issued its purpose was not revealed for twelve
months. This is because many people would not accept the meaning, and
consequently would show a negative attitude toward the decree.  (Avodah Zara 35a)
The general Rabbanite
populace may not have adhered to the new strict laws if they realized they were
merely enacted for social-political reasons.  
HaRav David Bar-Hayim of Machon Shilo has already noted in
his “Meat and Milk” series (here) that Rambam was the first to
require any waiting between poultry and dairy. He therefore opines that one may
eat poultry and then dairy without even kinuach ve’hadacha as clear from
the Talmud, Gaonim, and early Baalei Tosfos[34]. 
For more interesting articles visit www.UncensoredJudaism.com

I
would like to thank Pe’er Barzilai for reading and commenting on this essay. His insights
greatly improved its quality.


[1] A Torah luminary of the last century, Dr. Bernard Revel,
devoted many studies to the relationship between rabbinic authorities and
Qaraism. In his”פרקים
בחילופי המנהגים”  (here)
and
“תרגום
יונתן על התורה” (here), Dr. Revel revealed how much of the rabbinic
writings of the early Middle Ages
were aimed at separating the Rabbanite community from sectarian influence.
Dr.
Revel wrote his 1911 doctoral dissertation
on the origins of Qaraite halacha- “The Karaite Halakhah and Its
Relation to Sadducean, Samaritan, and Philonian Halakhah” (here). Here is a sample from Dr. Revel’s article: The Gaonim (see Beit
Yosef O.C. 24) opposed holding and gazing at the tzitit during the
recital of the Shema only because this was Qaraite practice in accordance with
the literal understanding of וראיתם אותו. (here)
[2] Responsa 2:628-29 http://hebrewbooks.org/pdfpager.aspx?req=1731&st=&pgnum=351
See Rustow, Heresy and the Politics of Community: the Jews of the Fatimid
Caliphate (2008), pg. 345.
[3] This topic deserves a comprehensive
discussion. For a preview see “R. Yitchak Al-fasi’s Anti-Qaraite
Legislative Activity” here Case #3.
[4] Rambam writes:
 וכן למדו מפי השמועה, שאסור לרחוץ בו או לסוך או לנעול את הסנדל
או לבעול.  ומצוה לשבות מכל אלו, כדרך ששובת מאכילה ושתייה:  שנאמר
“שבת שבתון”
שבת לעניין מלאכה, ושבתון לעניינים
אלו.  ואין חייבין כרת או קרבן, אלא על אכילה ושתייה בלבד; אבל אם רחץ או סך
או נעל או בעל, מכין אותו מכת מרדות.
Later authorities were perplexed by
Rambam’s view and much ink was spilled trying to resolve it. See Beit
Yosef O.C. 611 and acharonim there.

Often
Rambam precedes modern academic research by eight and a half centuries. It is
unlikely that he was unaware of the late origins of the Yom Kippur laws. See
Dr. Israel Drazin’s article “Yom Kippur is Not a Biblical Holiday”
(here).
Rambam may have lead readers to
believe all five afflictions were biblical only to counter Qaraite views. 

A century ago, Bernard Revel made an identical argument about Targum Pseudo-Yonathan (here). The early ninth century Targum on Lev. 15:29 mentions all
five afflictions as being implicit from the Torah itself. Revel concluded that
the Targum had but one purpose – to oppose the Qaraites and strengthen belief
in the Oral Torah. 

For a thorough analysis of what Rambam meant when he wrote למדו
מפי השמועה, see Albert D. Friedberg’s “An
Evaluation of Maimonides’ Enumeration of the 613 Commandments, With Special
Emphasis on the Positive Commandments” pgs. 275- 281 here (-also in his
recent 2014 Crafting the
Commandments). 

Another
anti-Qaraism in Mishna Torah may be in Hilchot Chamets u-Matzah where
Rambam describes how chametz is forbidden from midday of the fourteenth
of Nisan:
מצות עשה מן התורה להשבית החמץ קודם זמן
איסור אכילתו
שנאמר “ביום הראשון, תשביתו שאור מבתיכם” (שמות יב,טו)
מפי השמועה למדו שראשון זה, הוא יום ארבעה עשר.  וראיה
לדבר זה
מה שכתוב בתורה “לא תשחט על חמץ, דם זבחי” (שמות לד,כה)
כלומר לא תשחוט הפסח והחמץ קיים; ושחיטת הפסח, הוא יום
ארבעה עשר אחר חצות

(הלכות חמץ ומצה פרק ב:א)

Friedberg
(pg. 282, note 53) suggests that
Rambam adds the emphasis of “from Scripture” – “מן התורה” – only to polemicize with his Qaraite
adversaries who held that chametz could be kept until the beginning of
the first day of the festival.

Another
interesting point Friedberg makes (pgs. 298-302) is that a very careful reading
of Maimonides shows that he regarded tefillin and mezuza as
practices which began with the lay population and were later sanctioned by the
rabbis, or possibly originated by the rabbis, but were certainly not biblical.
In the his conclusion to Crafting
the Commandments, Friedberg explains why Rambam was
so careful to conceal his view:      
            I conjectured further that Maimonides deliberately withheld the
scriptural designation from certain commandments that had been labeled as
scriptural in the ShM (=Sefer HaMitzvoth) when the plain reading of the
scriptural text did not appear to provide sufficient evidence for them, even
when rabbinic interpretation suggested otherwise. To this end, he chose an
artful but somewhat concealed literary device to designate them as such, the
participle of correct practice. This is the case with such prominent practices
as the recitation of the Shema, the binding of the tefillin, the writing and placing
of the mezuzah and the study of Torah.
In the heavily politicized atmosphere of Cairo,
where Rabbanites were both assiduously courted and continuously attacked by
sectarian groups (largely Karaites) over the role of the oral law in
interpreting Scripture, Maimonides chose to keep his radical opinions hidden
yet recoverable. When applied to the legal sections of the Torah, Maimonides’
peshateh di-qera hermeneutics would likely raise hackles among his own
co-religionists and, worse yet, give comfort to the deniers of the oral law.
His carefully planted literary cues could lead the reader who is familiar with
rabbinic terminology and unburdened by popular and superficial conclusions to
discover the Master’s true opinion or at the very least sense his ambivalence.

[5] I
thank Sam Kahan. His comments on my previous “Waiting Six Hours for Dairy”
article prompted me towards further investigation and discoveries and the
writing of this article.

[6] These birds were eaten by
Jews around the Mediterranean for centuries. See Zohar Amar’s מסורת
העוף 
Tel Aviv (2004).

[7] Al-Qirqisani,
Kitab al-AnWar, XII, 25:4 “‘in its mother’s milk’ refers only to the
milk of its mother”.
[8] I wrote more on this here.
[9] Marina Rustow argues in Heresy and the Politics of
Community that there was more tolerance of Qaraism in
Rabbanite communities outside Spain. The likelihood of influence was thus also
increased.
[10]
R. Al-fasi may have changed Talmudic halacha in many areas for political
anti-Qaraite reasons. See many examples in “R. Yitchak Al-fasi’s Anti-Qaraite
Legislative Activity” (here).
[11] Correction:

In  “Waiting Six Hours for Dairy- A
Rabbanite Response to Qaraism” I wrote the following:
This Qaraite
breach of the Oral Law earned them the nickname “the eaters of meat with milk”.
This transgression of the Qaraites became symbolic of the entire conflict
between the Rabbanite and Qaraite camps. 
Throughout this period, the two camps were very connected socially,
politically, and economically. There were Rabbanite-Qaraite marriages, joint
business ventures, and joint communities. The lines between the two camps were
not as distinct as we may imagine. At some point in the early eleventh century,
the Rabbanite rishonim devised a way to create greater division and social
split between the two camps. Choosing the very topic which represented the
heart of the schism, they reinterpreted Talmudic passages in a manner which
requires waiting six hours between eating red meat and dairy products, further
separating the Rabbanites from the Qaraites both halachically and socially. However,
Rabbanites and Qaraites could still enjoy a poultry-dairy meal together during
community gatherings or business meetings. It was more difficult to
redefine an explicit statement in the Talmud allowing poultry and dairy
together without any separation in between (אגרא’s statement). Maimonides was the first to
attempt to further widen the gap by including poultry in the six-hour wait
category. (Italics added for emphasis.)
This is a mistake. Besides for the
occasional pigeon or turtledove, there were no birds which Qaraites could have
eaten with Rabbanites.
[12] See Rashba and Ritva on Hullin 104. They probably
assumed that Rambam had a tradition that this was the way the Talmud is
interpreted.
[13] Daniel Frank,“May Karaites Eat Chicken? Indeterminacy in Sectarian
Halakhic Exegesis”, Jewish Biblical Interpretation and Cultural Exchange
ed. Natalie B. Dohrman and David Stern, (2008) Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press pgs.124-138.
[14] Harkavy, Zikhron la-rishonim 67-68.
[15] Harkavy, Zikhron la-rishonim 179.
[16] See al-Qirqisani, Kitab al-Anwar 1.16 vol I pg
57. Trans. in W. Lockwood,  Ya’qub
al-Qirqisani on Jewish Sects and Christianity (Frankfurt am Main: Peter
Lang, (1984) 150. Also Karaite Anthology: Excerpts from the Early
Literature  (1980) ed. By Leon Nemoy
pgs 32-34.
[17] Al-Qirqisani, Kitabal-Anwar XII.2.3-6. Qirqisani also mentions that- “One allows chicken,
another forbids it, while yet another asserts that he does not know whether it
is permitted or forbidden.” (Al-Qirqisani, Kitabal-Anwar
I.19.3 vol.1 pg 61). This tells that though the leading Qaraite scholars
forbade most birds, there were existent alternate views and practices amongst
early sectarians. These lenient views did not become the norm until much later.
[18] Yapheth ben Eli, Comment on Dt 14,11-20
[19] See Frank’s
article for relevant citations. An interesting passage in R. Avraham ibn Ezra’s
commentary discusses R. Saadya:
שם האחד. אמר
הגאון (=ר’ סעדיה) כי פישון יאור מצרים… ואין ראיה על פישון שהוא היאור, רק
שתרגם החוילה כפי צרכו, כי אין לו קבלה. וכן עשה במשפחות, ובמדינות ובחיות ובעופות
ובאבנים. אולי בחלום ראם. וכבר טעה במקצתם כאשר אפרש במקומו. א”כ לא נשען על
חלומותיו, אולי עשה כן לכבוד השם, בעבור שתרגם התורה בלשון ישמעאל ובכתיבתם, שלא
יאמרו כי יש בתורה מצות לא ידענום.
(אבן עזרא בראשית
ב:יא)
R. Saadya Gaon may have fabricated
translations for uncertain names of birds in the Torah only to protect
Rabbanites from Qaraite ridicule. By supplying translations, Saadya saw to it
that Rabbanite Torah readers would not easily sympathize with Qaraite scholars
by thinking that, indeed, their Rabbanite tradition knows very little about the
meaning of words in the Torah.
[20] This source I add
to Frank’s list.
[21] This source I
add to Frank’s list.
[22] R. Yaakov Emden
writes in his סידור בית יעקב pg 154
ובראשי הבתים חתום מנחם (אולי הוא בר מכיר). I suggest that Menachem is not Menachem ben Machir of 11th
century Germany, but Menachem ben Saruq (10th century Spain) or
another early Spanish poet. That this piyut, in recent times, is
traditionally sung mainly in Ashkenazi homes does not disprove Sephardic
anti-Qaraite origins.
[23] See Judah
Hadassi’s words- לאכול ולשתות די מחייתו וקיום נפש ולנוח
מעט במשכבך in Haym
Soloveitchik’s  Collected Essays II,
pg 391.
[24] The blessing
said before kindling the Sabbath lights was likely initiated to strengthen this
rabbinic practice in response to the Qaraite custom. See Naftali Vieder,  התגבשות נוסח התפילה במזרח ובמעריב Volume I (1998), pg. 343-346.

[25] See O.C. 306:8.
Judah Hadassi writes in Eshkol HaKofer 145 (here):
המחשבות והדמיונות הלב ומשפטים
ודקדוקים ועסקים שאין מתורת אלהים אסור לחשוב בימי קודש בדעתך

I
thank R. Shimon Szimonowitz for this source and association.

[26] From Shir
HaShirim 7:3. The literal context in Shir HaShirim is erotic and
sensual. Good poetry has multiple layers of meaning.
[27] וְדָגִים is added
merely so the “im” will rhyme with בְּתַעֲנוּגִים.
[28] See here.
[29] Here
(Shemini pg 31). Also see Devarim Re’eh pg 44- here.
[30] Sevel
ha-yerushah is a Qaraite term for ‘commonly accepted tradition.’
[31]  Gan Eden, “Inyan shehitah,” chapter 2, 82d
[32]
R. Avraham ibn Ezra (1089–1167), Halevi’s contemporary and
landsman, makes an interesting comment:
הדוכיפת. אמרו הצדוקים שהיא התרנגולת,
ואלה טפשי עולם, כי מי הגיד להם. (אבן עזרא ויקרא יא:יט)
These Qaraite Bible interpreters may have intended to
ridicule Rabbanites by arguing that chicken is the non-kosher דוכיפת bird. It is
apparent that these particular Qaraites still refrained from chicken. If so,
the reality reported in Kuzari may not have yet been uniform throughout
Spain. Or perhaps Ibn Ezra was recording Qaraite views he encountered along his
many global travels.
[32] Qaraites and
Rabbanites lived in adjacent quarters in Cairo—Harat al-Yahud and Harat
al-Yahud al-Qarain. (here
)
[34] Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim 3:48 writes:
אבל אסור בשר בחלב הרי עם היותו מזון גס מאוד בלי
ספק, וגורם מילוי רב אין הדבר רחוק לדעתי שיש לעבודה
וממה שמחזק את זה לדעתי, שאסור בשר בחלב הזכירו פעמים
בתחילת הציווי בו כאשר הזכיר מצוות החג, שלוש פעמים בשנה וגו וכאילו יאמר בחגכם
וביאתכם לבית ה’ אלוהיך לא תבשל מה שתבשל שם בצורה פלונית כפי שהיו הם עושים, זהו
המתקבל יותר לדעתי בטעם איסורו, אלא שלא ראיתי את זה כתוב במה שעיינתי מספרי
ה”צאבה.

Ibn
Ezra:
והנה קדמונינו ז”ל החמירו להסיר כל ספק, ואסרו בשר
בחלב, והשם שנתן להם חכמה, הוא יתן משכורתם שלימה. (ר’ אברהם אבן עזרא שמות כג:יט)
Ibn
Ezra’s view is that meat cooked in the milk of an animal other than its mother
was only forbidden by Rabbinic law (unlike what is understood from Talmud
Chullin and Shulchan Aruch Yoreh Deah).
Accordingly,
we see a three stage development of changes in biblical law. 

First, the early rabbis expanded the Torah’s prohibition against the pagan
practice of cooking a kid in its mother’s milk. They said cooking milk in any
meat is forbidden. Some rabbis even forbade fowl cooked with dairy. This view
eventually became the normative halacha. At this early stage kinuach
ve’hadacha was required between meat and dairy- though, not between poultry
and dairy.
Second,
in the beginning of the eleventh century, the rabbinic meat-milk prohibition
was expanded by Rabbeinu Chananel to require a separation of six hours between
consuming meat and dairy. About this time Qaraites had loosened their mourning
customs and began eating meat; they did not hesitate to cook that meat with dairy.
R. Chananel created this new law to protect and separate rabbinically-oriented
Jews who accepted the concept and binding force of the Oral Torah from
influence of the Qaraites.
Third,
in the century following R. Chananel’s enactment, Qaraites included chicken,
duck and and other birds on their kosher list and cooked these fowl with dairy.
Now that Rabbanite and Qaraite Jews shared the same list of kosher birds they
could eat poultry meals together. Rambam responded by requiring a six hour wait
for poultry as well, to assure that the two groups would not overly socialize –
so as to avoid Rabbanite Jews being drawn to and accepting Qaraite views.


The Pitfalls of Disagreeing with the Gra

Sunday, the second day of Hol HaMo’ad, was the 210th yahrzeit of the Gra. The Gra, a towering figure in modern Judaism, was not immune from criticism. His views, like any other’s were subject to scrutiny. And, at times, there were those who disagreed with the Gra’s conclusions. While this criticism should come as no surprise (and especially so in light of the Gra’s dim view of deference to prior authorities), some felt the Gra should be immune from any criticism. Thus, we find the Gra’s dissenters taken to task for merely arguing with the Gra’s position.
Additionally, this post will be the beginning of a series of posts devoted to reviewing and highlighting one of the most important books in the history of the Jewish book to be published in recent memory. Dr. Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel (who has a terrific Hebrew Wikipedia entry here)has published two volumes of Amudim b’Tolodot Sefer HaIvri. Both volumes are tremendously rich in material and appear to have gone virtually unnoticed. (Unfortunately, Spiegel soon after the publication of the first volume came out with a revised edition. All citations are to the first edition of the first volume.)
As mentioned above, the first part of this post, is the first in a series discussing Spiegel’s book. The second part, although related to Spiegel is not discussed by Spiegel, and instead, is from another important bibliography work, Ohel Rochel.
There is but one review in HaMayaan [and in the latest AJS review of Spiegel’s second volume]. In fact, although those who have read it have recognized its import it has not stopped some from hiding their use of the book. Thus, a couple of weeks ago the Hiddushei HaBach were published on portions of the Talmud. Spiegel has an amazing discussion about the Hagot haBach. Spiegel discusses the history, what the Bach was doing, which edition of the Talmud he had. Perhaps most importantly, Spiegel discusses the errors that have crept into the Bach – mainly because the editors of the Vilna Shas removed the introduction to the work. The introduction explains certain devices that were employed to make clear which words the Bach was removing. Both the device (quotation marks) as well as the explanatory notes no longer appear, thus Spiegel provides numerous examples of people who based their Torah on an incorrect understanding of what the Bach was doing.

Returning to the new Hidushei HaBach, in the introduction they discuss the Bach’s other works. Of course, they discuss the Hagot HaBach and they rely heavily (read almost in entirety) on Spiegel. But, the only times they cite (p. 19 n. 1; p.43 n. 55; p. 46 n.65, n. 67) to Spiegel they use the following abbreviation עמודים בתולדות ה”ה. They do not provide what that means, and only a reader who was already aware of Spiegel’s book would have any idea. This is deliberate as although they are willing to use his book they are unwilling to let others know that.

In this post, however, I will not focus on the Bach, rather as mentioned above, we are going to discuss the Gra, and the first example focuses on the Hagot HaGra. This portion of the post mainly comes from Spiegel (Amudim: Haghot u’Maghim pp. 422-426, 461).

R. Gershon Henoch Leiner, the Radzyner Rebbi, published Sidrei Tahros. Sidrei Tahros is an attempt to fill a gap in the talmud. There are some mesechtot that do not have any talmudic commentary. While some, Zeraim for instance, have at least Yerushalmi, the mesechtot of Tahoros do not. Thus, R. Leiner culled the corpus of Rabbinic literature, Talmud, Midrash, Zohar, etc. and collected the relevant statements to create a “talmud” (it is even labeled as such – the legend on the page reads Gemara) on the two mesechtot of Ohelot and Kelim. Additionally, he wrote his own commentary on these volumes. The volume on Kelim was published in 1873 and included a map that can be seen here. The volume on Ohelot was published in 1903. After that both books were not republished until 1960 in a photomechanical reproduction.

Soon after it came out, people took issue with the entire concept – the concept of “creating” a gemara. Those who came out against him, did so in the newspaper Halevonon (available here – see the 1875 nos. 34, kovod levonon (machberes sheni year 11) 6 tamuz edition and see Ir Vilna vol. 1 p. 60 n. 7 for some choice quotes). Someone responded in Hamaggid (also available online see 17 Av, 1875). Much of this criticism was more focused on the concept of the Sidrei Taharos, (creating a “new” gemara) for our purposes, however, we are going to focus on one point, R. Leiner’s disagreements with the Gra.

In his commentary, R. Leiner takes issue with some of the Gra’s textual emendations. For instance R. Leiner states:
ודע דדברי הגר”א ז”ל בזה בספרו . . . לא איתברר לן ולא זכינו לעמוד בסוד דבריו ז”ל . . . דרכו בקודש נסתרה ונעלמה מאתנו

This is but one of the times R. Leiner disagrees with the Gra. At one time, R. Leiner is willing to attribute his disagreement not to the Gra, but instead, R. Leiner claims that perhaps the difficult statements in the Gra were not made by the Gra. Instead, a student misunderstood and thus it is now necessary to figure out what in fact the Gra said. Setting aside this justification (which, when it comes to the Gra’s notes on the Talmud is difficult to believe in light of the fact much comes from the Gra’s hand itself), R. Leiner still disagreed with the Gra for whatever reason it may be.

R. Yosef Refael and R. Betzalael HaKohen, Dayanim in the Vilna Bet Din were against the whole notion of the Sidrei Tahros. But, they also singled out R. Leiner’s disagreements with the Gra. Specifically, they say

ובהשגות המחבר [ר’ גרשון] על רבינו מאור הגולה הגר”א ז”ל כתב הרבה נגד כבוד הגר”א ז”ל בכמה מקומות ומדקדק עליו בדקדודי עניות לבד אשר אין מהצרוך להשיב עליהם כלל, וגם במהלליו את רבינו הגר”א ז”ל התנכר כנגדו כובד וכאילו היה חלילה אחד מחבריו . . . ובכמה מקומות תלה דברים זרים בפירוש הגר”א ז”ל, אשר לא יטעה כל המתחיל ללמוד לפרש כזאת

Another example is that of R. Barukh Brody in his book Bet Ya’akov where he states:

ועל של עתה באתי כי זה לא כביר נדפס ילקוט על מס’ כלים . . . והנה בעברי על פני דבריו באיזה מקומן ראיתי כי יצא בילקוטו באבני נגף נוכח תורת הגר”א ופגע ונגע בכ”מ [= בכמה מקומות] בכבוד רבינו הגר”א ומשיג על דבריו בעזות וחוצפה מאד, ושמתי עיוני על השגותיו ומצאתי ראיתי כי מלבד שאין קטן ערך כמוהו ראוי להתוכח עם ארי ארי[ה] דבי עילאה הגר”א ז”ל, בר מכל דין לא הבין ולא רצה להבין דברי הגר”א הקדושים רק שנאה וחוצפה מדברת מתוך גרונו . . . חכמתו המעט נסתקלה ממנו ולא הבין אפילו פשט הפשוט שבדברי הגר”א ז”ל

R. Brody thus accuses R. Leiner of brazeness, chutzpah, and that R. Leiner “is unable to understand even the simplest explanations.” Harsh words indeed all for disagreeing with the Gra.

The second example deals with a recently discussed book. In our discussion of Teffilah Zakah, we noted that various editions of the Hayye Adam were altered. In this case, we are going to deal with R. Danzig’s other well-known work the Hokhmat Adam. In the prior discussion the removal was due to the inclusion of a controversial book, in this case it was R. Danzig’s own words. [1]

The Hokhmat Adam was published after the Hayye Adam. In the Hayye Adam at various times, he take issue with the opinions of the Gra. R. Danzig was no stranger to the Gra, R. Danzig’s son married the grand-daughter (Gittel Vilner) of the Gra. It appears that R. Danzig’s disagreements with the Gra did not go unnoticed or unopposed.

In the first edition of the Hokhmat Adam, R. Danzig addresses criticisms. R. Danzig notes, inter alia, that the Gra himself would be more than happy to have people disagree with him. It appears, however, that only one copy remains of R. Danzig’s original words. This copy was discovered by Chaim Lieberman, one of the great bibliographers of the past generation, in what was R. Shmuel Straushun’s former library (a portion of the library is now housed in YIVO). The page, in relevant part, reads as follows:

והנה לא נמצא בחיבור זה מדברי מחותני הגאון רשכבה”ג מו’ אלי’ החסיד, והוא לסיבת כי שמעתי דבת רבים המתרעמים עלי שהשגתי עליו באיזה מקומות בחיבורי [חיי אדם] ובלתי ס[פק] שהאנשים המתרעמים לא ידעו דרך הפוסקים שכך דרך תה”ק זה בונה וזה סותר והתלמיד חולק על הרב כמש”כ בש”ע [יו”ד ס’ רמ”ב סע’ ג] ודרך זה היה נוהג אף בזמן תנאים ואמורים, ובודאי ניחא להגר”א מה שאני מפלפל בדבריו ממי שהוא אומר שפיר קאמר כדאר”י [=כדאמר רבי יוחנן] על בר לקישא. ולכתוב דבריו אף אם לא יהיה נ”ל זה לא אוכל, ולכן אחזתי במדת השתיקה להסיר תלונתם מעלי והם עתידים ליתן את הדין כי מנעו נ”ר [=נחת רוח] להגר”א לפלפל בדבריו, ודין אותי לכף זכות ידונו אותו משמים לזכות

This is not the text that appears in Hokhmat Adam, rather a slightly different text appears. These changes, however, as been demonstrated by Ch. Lieberman are significant. The following is how it appears (prior to the Binat Adam section):

והנה דברי מחותני גאון ישראל וקדושו אשר מימיו אנו שותים המקובל אלקי החסיד המפורסם מהו’ אלי’ חסיד דקהילתינו לא הבאתי כלל דבריו כמעט רק איזה גרגרים והוא לסיבה כי שמעתי דיבת רבים המתרעמים עלי על שבאיזה מקומות בחיברי חיי אדם השגתי עליו, ובלתי ספק שאנשים האלה אינם בקיאי’ בלימוד הפוסקי’ שכן דרך תה”ק זה בונה וזה סותר והתלמוד חולק על הרב והטור על אביו הרא”ש כמש”כ בש”ע ובפוסקי’, וזה ניחא להון כדאמר ר’ יוחנן על ר”ל דמיני ומיני’ רווח שמעתתא, ובודאי זהו נחת רוח להגואן יותר ממי שיאמר שפיר קאמר ועתידין ליתן את הדין על שמונעים נחת רוח מהגואן, והדן לכף זכות ידונו משמים לזכות

Lieberman points to four major changes. First, the honorifics surrounding the first mention of the Gra. Second, in the first iteration, R. Danzig decided to totally avoid any mention of the Gra while in the second iteration he cites “some small statements” of the Gra. Third, in the later iteration the statement of R. Yochonon is filled in. That is it provides the text. Lieberman allows that perhaps this was done to avoid “confusion” with another statement of R. Yochonon. R. Yohonon (Ketubot 84,b) says about Resh Lakish “what can I do my peer disagrees with me.” Rashi explains that “peer” means equal. Thus, perhaps the reader would think that R. Danzig was comparing himself with the Gra. Instead, the reader is now directed to the statement of R. Yohonon (Pesachim 88,a; Megilah 14,b) generally discussing Resh Lakish providing numerous answers to questions. Finally, in the later iteration the language “it is impossible for me to write what I don’t actually believe” is missing in it entirety. (For Lieberman’s article see Ohel Rochel, vol. 1, 473-74 [first printed in Kiryat Sefer, 37 (1962) pp. 413-14]).

Note:
[1] For examples of R. Danzig’s disagreements and some responses see Eliach, HaGoan, vol. 2 pp. 706-09.