Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 1

Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 1
By Marc B. Shapiro
It is now time to announce the names of those who were able to answer the quiz questions I posed. The only two people to answer both questions correctly were Alex Heppenheimer and Yonason Rosman. I fortunately had two CDs so both of them received the prize.

Question no. 1 was: The word for turkey is תרנגול הדו. There is a dagesh in the dalet. Why? Bring a proof for your answer from Berakhot between page 34a and 38a.

Alex Heppenheimer emailed as follows: “The dagesh represents a missing nun in the word הדו. The Aramaic form, in Berachot 36b, is הנדואי. (There is also similarly הנדויין in Yoma 34b and ר’ יהודה הנדואה in Kiddushin 22b.)”

This is correct. The name India (and thus also Hindu) originates with the Persians and Greeks for the land beyond the Indus River. You can see in the Aramaic terms referred to by Heppenheimer that the nun is part of the word. See also the Targum to Esther 1:1 where הדו is translated as .הנדיא Bava Batra 74b, Avodah Zarah 16a, and Bekhorot 37b have other forms of the word, all including the nun.[1] Berakhot 37b refers to נהמא דהנדקא, i.e., “Indian bread.” Targum Ps. Jonathan to Gen. 2:12 translates translates חוילה as הינדקי.

(As to why turkey was referred to by those in Spain, and later the rest of Europe, as “Indian fowl”, that is because when it was first brought back to Europe it was believed to be coming from the area around India, which is where Columbus himself thought that he had ended up.)

For those who are interested in grammatical matters like how the dagesh is used, let me recommend a new book, Adir Amrutzi’s Dikdukei Aviah (Tel Aviv, 2010). In speaking of nuns that drop off, on p. 13 he calls attention to Kiddushin 70a where the word אתרונגא appears. The nun in this word shows us that the plural of etrog is not etrogim, but etrugim, with a dagesh in the gimel and a kubutz under the resh. The singular word etrog should be written as אתרג (All this follows the pattern of tof-tupim [תף-תפים], dov-dubim [דב-דבים]. When the vav holam is in the word, the holam sound remains: חול-חולות, עוף-עופות).

Returning to India, the passage in Berakhot 36b reads: “The preserved ginger which comes from India (הנדואי) is permitted.” The problem is that when you look at Rashi, for his translation of הנדואי he writes: כושיים.

Cushi’im means “Ethiopians” (Translating “Cush” as “Ethiopia” does not imply that it corresponds to the borders of modern day Ethiopia. Some even prefer “Nubia” to Ethiopia”, as Ethiopians are Semitic while Nubians are “Hamitic” [and Cush was a son of Ham]. It perhaps also can refer generally to black Africa. This can explain Pesahim 94a which states that Egypt is one sixtieth of Cush. Also, the Targum to II Chron. 21:16 translates כושים as אפריקאי.)

So where does Rashi get the idea that Cushites are Indians? Did he not know that הנדואי means India? In his commentary to Kiddushin 22b he writes as follows:


הנדואה: מארץ כושי כוש מתרגמינן הנדואה

We see the same identification by Rashi in Yoma 81b.[2] Since the book of Esther distinguishes between India (הדו) and Cush, and Rashi identifies הנדואה with Cush, one might be tempted to conclude that Rashi didn’t realize that הנדואה is the same as הדו. But is it possible that he wouldn’t know this?

And to confuse matters even more, in Avodah Zarah 16a, where הינדואה is mentioned, Rashi explains that it means ארץ הדו.

So not only do we have the problem of Rashi identifying הנדואה as Cush, but we also have the problem of consistency, because in one instance he identifies the place correctly. To add one more thing to the mix, in his commentary to Sukkah 36a Rashi states that Cush is further from the Land of Israel than it is from Babylonia. This means that Rashi thought that Cush is to the east of Babylonia. In other words, Rashi does not believe that Cush is Ethiopia.[3]

So where does Rashi get this notion? He actually gives us his source in his commentary to Yoma 34b, where he refers to the Targum to Jeremiah 13:23. This verse famously states: “Can the Cushi change his skin, or the leopard his spots?” If you look at the Targum on this verse Cushi is translates as .הנדואה In the Targum to Isaiah 11:11 Cush is also identified as India.

So again, I ask, what is going on here? How could the Targum translate Cushi as “Indian”?

P. S. Alexander writes as follows: “It was a common view in ancient geography, shared by Ptolemy and probably also the author of the book of Jubilees . . . that Ethiopia was joined to India in the east. It is this idea that lies behind the [talmudic] statement that Cush and Hodu are adjacent.”[4] He also notes that the Indians dark skin was one reason for the identification. Furthermore, Alexander tell us, there was an ancient belief that there was a land connection between Ethiopia and India south of the Indian Ocean.

Since we have been speaking of India,[5] let me share with you what I found in R. Hayyim Hirschensohn’s Nimukei Rashi on Bamidbar (a copy of which I will give out to the winner of my next quiz[6]). On p. 81b he suggests that the revolt in India against English rule was a punishment of England for splitting the Land of Israel when it created Transjordan.

Returning to the quiz, my second question was: There is a rabbinic phrase that today is used to praise a Torah scholar, but in talmudic days was used in a negative fashion. What am I referring to?

Megillah 28b speaks of a צנא דמלא סיפרי . Today this expression is used to praise scholars. Yet if you look at the talmudic passage its meaning is the exact opposite. Rashi explains:
אינו אלא כסל שמילאוהו ספרים ואין מבין מה בתוכה אף שונה הלכות ולא שימש ת”ח ללמוד שיבינוהו טעמי משנה ופעמים שדברי משנה סותרין זה את זה וצריך לתרצה כגון הכא במאי עסקינן וכגון הא מני רבי פלוני היא וכגון חסורי מיחסרא אינו יודע מה שונה.

Rashi’s explanation should remind people of a phrase used by R. Bahya Ibn Paquda in Hovot ha-Levavot 3:4. In its medieval Hebrew translation it became famous: חמור נושא ספרים. I first heard this expression in yeshiva. Only later did I realize that it came from R. Bahya, and only some time later did I learn that R. Bahya didn’t invent it. Rather, it originates in the Quran 62:5.[7]

* * *

Since this post is not up to my normal length, let me make some more comments. At least one person thinks that my criticism of Artscroll regarding Kalir is unfair. If you recall, I originally criticized them for identifying Kalir as a tanna. In my last post I mentioned that in the first edition of the Artscroll Machzor this identification is rejected, and only in subsequent editions does the Machzor state that Kalir was a tanna. I also claimed that Artscroll knows the truth but in order to mollify its critics, changed what it originally wrote.

This, incidentally, is not the only time that I assume that Artscroll knows what it is writing is incorrect, but writes so anyway. I have a good example of this in the book I am currently working on, so I don’t want to give it away now. I already noted another example in Limits, where I call attention to the introduction to the Artscroll Chumash which states: “Rambam sets forth at much greater length the unanimously held view that every letter and word was given by God to Moses” (emphasis added). This statement, that the view of the Rambam is unanimously held, is false. Furthermore, Artscroll knows it is false, and in its commentary to Deut. 34:5 it mentions the talmudic view that the last verses were given to Joshua.[8]

Here is another example along these lines that I think readers will find interesting. It comes from the new Artscroll Midrash Rabbah, and was called to my attention by R. Avrohom Lieberman (who already called my attention to the Kalir change in the Machzor).

In explaining Tikun Soferim, Artscroll’s note states that this “cannot, Heaven forbid” be taken literally. Yet the editors of Artscroll, who are learned men, know perfectly well that there are traditional sources that state precisely this (See Limits, pp. 98ff). There is no question that the intent of the words “Heaven forbid” is to make the reader think that Artscroll’s perspective is unanimously held.

Since we are now on the subject of Artscroll (the most important and influential Orthodox publishing venture of all time), and lots of people want me to post more on this topic, let me give one final example.[9] It comes from Ecclesiastes, as I dealt with this book in the last series of posts. The upshot of what I and others have already pointed out is something everyone already knew, namely, that Artscroll has a religious agenda. Much like the New York Times’ agenda can be seen not only in the editorial page, but in the news reports as well, so too Artscroll’s agenda is seen not only in the “overviews,”[10] but in the selection of commentaries also. There is enough material for a very long and detailed article spelling all this out.

Eccl. 2:8 states: .עשיתי לי שרים ושרות
What does this mean? The simple explanation is that the author, traditionally Solomon, is telling us about all the wonderful things he amassed with which to enjoy himself, and among them are “men singers and women singers.” Artscroll translates the passage as “I provided myself with various musical instruments.” Now this might be an apologetic translation, but if so, it is not Artscroll that is to be too criticized, but the Talmud, Gittin 68a, since according to Rashi this is how the Talmud explains the words.[11] Artscroll is obviously within its rights to adopt this understanding, even if one assumes that this explanation is not in accord with the simple sense of the verse.

The problem comes with the next passage in the Artscroll commentary which states: “Rav Yosef Kara, Alshich, Metzudas Zion and others translate ‘singers.’” I will get to Kara and Alshich shortly, but let’s begin with Metzudat Tziyon, since this is easiest for most people to access as it appears in the Mikraot Gedolot. He writes as follows:

שרים: משוררים זכרים. ושרות: משוררות נקבות

So now I ask my fair-minded readers: Is Artscroll’s statement that Metzudat Tziyon translates שרים ושרות as “singers” accurate? I think the answer is clearly “no”. Metzudat Tziyon translates the words in question as “male singers and female singers,” and yet—don’t tell me you are surprised—in Artscroll this morphs into “singers”. Why would Artscroll fudge the translation? The answer is obvious. They don’t want people to think that Solomon would have listened to women singing. I am not sure why this is so problematic for them. After all, if Solomon engaged in idolatry (at least according to the biblical text’s simple meaning),, hearing women sing is not so far-fetched. In fact, in his comment on some other words in the verse, R. Jacob Lorberbaum[12] writes as follows):

רמז על שעבר על לא ירבה נשים שהזהירה התורה

Lorberbaum, therefore, has no difficulty in seeing the verse as pointing to misdeeds of Solomon.

Let us now see what Kara and Alshich say on the verse, since they too were quoted by Artscroll. Kara’s commentary is printed in Otzar Tov, ed., Berliner and Hoffmann (Berlin, 1886-1887), p. 10: עשיתי לי שרים ושרות: תיקנתי לי זכרים ונקיבות לשורר לפניי

Alshich explains the verse to be referring to משוררים ומשוררות

So we see that the commentators Artscroll refers to are explicit that the meaning of the passage is “male and female singers.”

Among other sources that interpret this way are Kohelet Rabbati, ad loc:


שרים ושרות: זמרין וזמרתא

Yalkut Shimoni, Kohelet no. 968:

עשיתי לי שרים ושרות: משוררים זכרים ונקבות.

See also the Targum to Eccl. 2:8, where שרים ושרות is translated as .זמריא וזמריתא

R. Moses Almosnino, Yedei Moshe (Tel Aviv, 1986), Eccl. 2:8 (p. 58), even explains why the female singers were desirable, as they helped create a better harmony:


על כן אמר שהיו לו שרים ושרות שהם המשוררים והמשוררות, אנשים ונשים יחד, שבהתמזגם יהיו הקולות ערובות, שקול האשה דקה וקול האיש הוא קול יותר עב, ובהתמזגם יחד יצא השיר בנועם.

When the Jews returned from Babylonia to the Land of Israel in the days of Ezra and Nehemiah, the Bible (Ezra 2:65, Nehemiah 7:65) states explicitly that they came with משוררים ומשוררות, “male and female singers.”

As for how Solomon could listen to women sing, for those who feel the need to answer this question, perhaps Solomon agreed with those authorities who feel that there is no blanket prohibition on hearing a woman’s singing voice,[13] a viewpoint that has recently been resurrected by Rabbis Moshe Lichtenstein,[14] David Bigman[15] and Avraham Shammah.[16] According to this perspective, only singing that is sexually arousing is forbidden.[17] Let us not forget that the Talmud speaks of a woman’s voice. It is the post-Talmudic authorities who clarify that this refers to a singing voice, but does this mean any singing voice or only one that in the minds of normal men could be arousing?

R. Marc Angel agrees with the rabbis mentioned in the last paragraph. He writes: “When the prohibition of “kol ishah” is applied to all instances of women singing in the presence of men, this is a distortion of the intent of the halakha. . . . Men and women may sing in the presence of those of the other gender, as long as the songs are of a religious nature, or of a general cultural nature (e.g., opera, folk songs, lullabies).”[18]

R. Yonatan Rosenzweig doesn’t go so far as to permit one to attend a concert with a female singer, but he does say that since today many people are used to hearing recordings of women’s voices, that possibly it is even permissible to watch a woman singing on television.[19]

A number of years ago there were ads in New York Jewish papers for a concert by Neshama Carlebach. The ads stated that the concert was open for women, as well as for men for whom the singing was permissible. This was a very strange formulation. Knowing that R. Mordechai Tendler was Neshama’s posek, I asked him about this. He explained to me that the language originated with him and was based on the notion that the prohibition against kol ishah is not a blanket prohibition, but depends on whether the singing is sexually arousing. (This approach can be supported by the view found in some rishonim that kol ishah that is not sexually arousing is only forbidden during keriat shema. Otherwise, there is no prohibition.[20]) Therefore, men who are used to hear women sing and will not be aroused by Neshama are permitted to attend the concert, and this explains the strange language in the ads.[21] Tendler also told me that this view of kol ishah as being what we can call a “situational prohibition” rather than an absolute issur, was held by his grandfather, R. Moshe Feinstein.[22]

This opinion, that whether or not a woman’s singing voice is prohibited depends on how men will react to it, will no doubt strike some as “unorthodox.” This approach is definitely not as widely held today as in years past. Yet many people reading this post can recall a time when kol ishah, as a general prohibition, was simply not an issue for the Modern Orthodox, or even for many of the more right-wing Orthodox. This was no different than the situation in Germany, where pretty much all of the Orthodox, including members of Hirsch’s community, saw no problem in attending the opera.

If you went back to the 1960s, other than the hasidim and the tiny yeshiva world, it would be hard to find an Orthodox Jew in New York City who didn’t see the Broadway performance of “Fiddler on the Roof.” I would even assume that that there were some roshei yeshiva who saw it. Until the 1980s there was no problem with Modern Orthodox synagogues sponsoring trips to Broadway musicals. My own shul even put on a performance of “Fiddler on the Roof” in the early 1980s. That would be unimaginable today at almost all Orthodox shuls.[23] (Yet somehow YU is able to continue its long tradition of a fundraising night at the opera, and I have not heard of any attempt by the roshei yeshiva to end this practice.)

Until the 1980s, girls would also have solo singing roles in the musical productions put on by many Modern Orthodox yeshiva high schools and summer camps. (Was there a Modern Orthodox summer camp where girls did not sing?) Readers can correct me if I am wrong, but as far as I know, only Ramaz, Flatbush, and SAR still have girls singing solos.[24] The other schools that have girls sing have them do so in groups, or at least with one other girl.

To bring us back to the earlier era, where women singing was acceptable in the Modern Orthodox world, let me quote Rabbi Marc Angel:

I was raised in the Sephardic community of Seattle, Washington, and well remember our many family gatherings where romances were sung. Jews of great piety sang right along with those of lesser piety. I do not remember anyone ever objecting to the singing of love songs by men and women. In the early 1980s, Haham Dr. Solomon Gaon, himself a Judeo-Spanish-speaking rabbi, taught classes in Sephardic folklore at my Congregation Shearith Israel in New York City. I well remember him singing love songs, enthusiastically and nostalgically. Both of us participated in a program of Sephardic culture sponsored by the Hebrew College of Boston. A female soloist sang a selection of romances, after which Haham Gaon not only applauded loudly but rose to speak in praise of the singer for her beautiful rendition of the songs. Haham Gaon, who served as chief rabbi of the Spanish and Portuguese Congregations of England and as head of the Sephardic Studies Program of Yeshiva University in New York, was a very prominent Orthodox Sephardic rabbi and a man of impeccable piety.[25]

R. Eliezer Berkovits wrote:


Nowadays, the singing of a woman is not fundamentally different from what the original Halakhah termed “her regular voice.” A woman’s voice, even when she is singing, is nothing unusual today, and it is no more distracting during the Shema prayer than that of a man singing. Only in specific amorous situations as in the Song of Songs, may it have a sensual quality.[26]
In Hirsch’s famous Schiller speech, delivered at his Frankfurt school, a note states that male and female students alternatively sang songs.[27] As I pointed out in my own note to the speech, girls were permitted to sing at Hirsch’s school. Mordechai Breuer, Modernity Within Tradition, p. 411 n. 11, calls attention to a report in Jeschurun 18 (1885), p. 11, of a public function at the school at which a teenage girl sang in the presence of a crowded audience.

In Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, p. 216, I quote Jacob Rosenheim who attempts to explain why Hirsch permitted girls to sing at public examinations in the higher grades (and I also note that this passage was censored in the Netzah translation). A halakhic justification of hearing unmarried girls sing was actually penned by R. Isaac Unna, the rav of Mannheim. The short responsum appears in his Shoalin ve-Dorshin no. 2.

Unna cites the Ba’er Heitev thatקול פנויה מותר . In context, what this means is exactly what it says, namely, that unlike a married woman’s (singing) voice, which is always prohibited, the singing of an unmarried woman is permitted to be heard. When he says this is permitted, he means if it doesn’t cause sexual thoughts. (Moderate sensual thoughts would be permitted according to Maimonides, as I mention below.) If it does, then of course it is forbidden. But this prohibition is a general prohibition against arousing oneself sexually and has nothing to do with the prohibition of kol ishah, which only refers to married women and is apparently based on the assumption that the voice of a married woman is always sexually arousing.[28]

In recent generations, poskim have all written that the פנויה referred to here is one who does not have the status of a Niddah, that is, a pre-pubescent girl. The first source to adopt this approach seems to be the eighteenth-century Peri Megadim, Orah Hayyim 75:3. As far as I can tell, none of the early poskim who discuss the matter even mention this point, and they all assume that פנויה mean an unmarried woman, of any age. This approach also continued among certain poskim even subsequent to the Peri Megadim.

See for example this page R. Jacob Pardo’s Apei Zutrei (Venice, 1797), Even ha-Ezer 21:8:

Pardo is very clear that פנויה means exactly what it says. He compares the halakhah of kol ishah to that of hair covering, and just like only a married woman has to cover her hair, so too it is only a married woman’s voice that is prohibited, not the voice of a single woman. (As mentioned already, this would only be prohibited if it was sexually arousing.) As for extending the prohibition to unmarried women, he sees this as an excessive stringency and applies the rabbinic phrase kol ha-mosif gorea, noting that the people will not listen to such a ruling and this will turn them into brazen sinners.

This is not to say that Pardo approves of listening to single women sing. He doesn’t, and applies to such singing the rabbinic phrase מוטב שיאכלו ישראל בשר תמותות כשרות, which comes from Kiddushin 22a and is stated with reference to something distasteful. It is distasteful, yet permitted nonetheless. Pardo’s careful distinction between what is preferred behavior and what the halakhah actually requires is seen in this comment as well, where he refers to Job. 31:1: “[I made a covenant with mine eyes;] how then should I look upon a maiden?”[29]


הן אמת דלבטל ההרהור יש להחמיר ע”ד ומה אתבונן על בתולה. אך אינו מן הראוי להשוותה לנשואה לאסור מפאת הדין.

Here is a page from R. Aaron ha-Levi, Mateh Aharon (Salonika, 1820), p. 260b, where we see some more interesting comments, including defending a rabbi who permitted listening to the voice of a single woman.

And finally, here is a page from R. Hayyim Kasar’s Shem Tov, a twentieth-century commentary on the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Issurei Biah 21:2. While Kasar is quite strict in forbidding a man to hear the voice of an ervah, even if he is not familiar with her, he is also clear that a penuyah means an unmarried woman and that there is no blanket prohibition on hearing her voice, just like there is no blanket prohibition on seeing the hair of an unmarried woman.

I would only add that this makes perfect sense according to Maimonides. If, as Maimonides says, one is permitted to look at an unmarried woman and enjoy her beauty,[30] it stands to reason that one can listen to the singing of an unmarried woman and also enjoy it.[31]

Returning to German Orthodoxy, Der Israelit was the newspaper of the German separatist community. Yet it seems to have had no problem highlighting an Orthodox female opera singer and stressing her commitment to Orthodoxy.[32] Mordechai Breuer called attention to this last point, and I assume that he didn’t have any knowledge of opera or he would have pointed out that the female singer referred to by the paper, Rosa Olitzka (1873-1949), was quite famous in her day. Here is a picture of her.

Right after telling us that Olitzka is the daughter of the hazan of the Berlin Adass Jisroel (i.e., R. Esriel Hildesheimer’s separatist community), Der Israelit mentions her starring as Carmen in the London Opera production. One can find a good deal of material about Olitzka online,[33] and can even purchase recordings of hers.[34] Maybe a reader knows whether she remained observant in her later years.

Breuer also refers to the JüdischePresse’s review of the opera “Samson and Delilah”.[35] While Der Israelit was the paper of the Frankfurt Orthodox, Jüdische Presse was published by the Orthodox of Berlin.[36]

The view that kol ishah is not an absolute prohibition, but depends on whether or not the singing is sensual in nature, was also held by R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, at least according to R. Aharon Rakeffet.[37] Rakeffet has also reported on a number of occasions that the Rav attended the opera in Berlin.[38] At the Maimonides School first Hanukkah Banquet in 1939, “the program included Betty Brooks, a prominent radio personality singing a variety of Jewish and English songs, Mabel Wingert, a dancer, and Frost and Helene, society dancers.”[39]

R. Ovadiah Yosef’s viewpoint on kol ishah is also worth noting, especially as it has undergone a change. In the first volume of Yabia Omer, published in 1954, R. Ovadiah deals with the following question (Orah Hayyim no. 6):

נשאלתי בדין קול זמר של אשה בגרמפון או ברדיו, אם יש בו משום קול באשה ערוה, וצריך להזהר שלא לשמעו בעת ק”ש ותפלה.
His formulation reflects the notion we have already seen, expressed by some rishonim, that the prohibition of kol ishah is a special prohibition related to shema (and prayer), rather than a general prohibition on hearing women sing (which if sexually arousing would be forbidden on other grounds.)

Here is how he formulates the question and answer in the table of contents:

קול זמר של אשה ברדיו וגרמפון, אין צריך להזהר מלשמעו בשעת ק”ש ותפלה, כשאינו מכיר את המשוררת, ואין בזה משום קול באשה ערוה
We see from here that there is no problem of kol ishah when you are not familiar with the female singer. In other words, you can recite shema and tefillah while hearing this. Again, however, this is not related to the wider issue of sensual songs. If you are “turned on” by hearing a song even if you don’t know the singer, then it is forbidden at all times. But by the same token, since the prohibition of kol ishah is exclusive to shema and tefillah, the implication is that a woman’s voice at other times is not prohibited if it doesn’t arouse sensual feelings.

Based on this understanding of R. Ovadiah’s responsum, I don’t think there is a contradiction between this teshuvah and R. Ovadiah’s well known love for the music of the Egyptian singing sensation Umm Kulthum.[40] Here is what Umm Kulthum looked like in her younger years.

If R. Ovadiah’s responsum in Yabia Omer intended a blanket prohibition on hearing the voice of a woman you are familiar with, rather than just confining this prohibition to shema and tefillah, then we would be confronted with a tremendous contradiction between the responsum and how R. Ovadiah lived his own life. It is not like R. Ovadiah wrote something in his responsum and did something else in his private life where people couldn’t see. His love of Umm Kulthum’s music was something everyone knew about, and he listened to it in the company of others. Clearly, therefore, his responsum which prohibits listening to the singing of one you are familiar with only applies during shema and tefillah. At other times, it is only prohibited if one is sexually aroused by the music, and since R. Ovadiah was not, he was permitted to listen to Umm Kulthum. Rabbi J. David Bleich is therefore incorrect when he summarizes R. Ovadiah’s responsum as follows: “Rabbi Yosef concurs in this ruling but adds that it is forbidden to listen to a female vocalist who is known to the listener even if the woman in question is known to him only through photographs.”[41] (I hope no one attempts to argue that R. Ovadiah didn’t know what Umm Kulthum looked like. She was only the most prominent celebrity in Egypt, with her picture everywhere.)

I was also informed by R. Avraham Yosef that his father, R. Ovadiah, later retracted his ruling in this responsum that if you are familiar with the singer that you can’t hear her voice in shema and tefillah. I later saw that R. Ovadiah himself states as much in Yabia Omer, vol. 9 no. 108:43:

ומה שכתבתי שם שאם ראה אותה בתמונה ג”כ, אסור, אינו מוכרח, שיש לומר . . . “ביודעה ומכירה”, זהו רק כשראה אותה בחיים חיותה במלא קומתה

If you hear her voice while you are saying shema or reciting blessings, R. Ovadiah advises וירכז מחשבתו לכוין בברכותיוR. Ovadiah’s words בחיים חיותה במלא קומתה might be taken to imply that even if you know the woman from television, there still is no prohibition of kol ishah.

R. Avraham Yosef states that while it is permitted to hear a woman sing even if you know what she looks like, it is not permitted to attend a live performance or even watch on television. R. Avraham assumes that alllive and television performances are prohibited, not only those that could be sexually arousing.[42] It also needs to be stated that despite how I interpreted R. Ovadiah, that female singing is only prohibited if it is sensual music, the upshot of what R. Ovadiah states throughout his writings is that by definition a live female singer is sexually arousing and thus prohibited. Although I think the evidence shows that R. Ovadiah agrees that theoretically kol ishah is only forbidden if it leads to <>hirhurim >, in practice he assumes that <>alllive female singing falls into this category. (I wonder, however, if he would also forbid the live singing of a very old woman, which would in no way be sensual.)


I found another interesting passage regarding kol ishah in the Meshivat Nefesh of R. Yohanan Luria (16th century). On p. 144, after explaining how the women of the desert could sing in front of the men (Ex. 15:21), he writes:

ומזה הטעם ראוי למחות לנשים המשוררות לכלות לפני האנשים רק הבתולות שמותרים בזה כדי לחבב הבחורים לקפוץ עליהם לשם אישות.

He makes the same point on the previous page, and concludes (p. 143):

רק הבתולות ראוי להם שיחבבו עצמם על הבריות לקפוץ אחריהם

What it means is that while married women can’t sing in front of men, unmarried women are permitted to do so in order to attract the attention of the young men, similar to what they did in Temple days when they would dance before the eligible bachelors.

Some might be wondering, how was this permitted since married men will also hear the women sing, and being that they are not in the “market” for a wife, what permission is there for them to listen to and be physically attracted to the young women? I think the answer is obvious, that those men who would have had improper thoughts were not supposed to listen to the women, just as I presume they were not supposed to watch the single women dance in Temple days. Yet the Sages did not ban this dancing because of what some men might be thinking, and similarly, Luria permits the singing by single women and is not concerned that some married men might also be listening. The logic behind Luria’s position is that young men looking for brides are supposed to be attracted to young women. The latter dress up nicely so that the men look at them, they put on makeup for this purpose, and yes, they sing in front of the men, all in order to make themselves attractive.

Here is the title page of Luria’s sefer.

I already mentioned the opera, so before concluding I refer you to S.’s post here.

He points to an early eighteenth-century communal decree in Altona-Hamburg-Wandsbek forbidding attendance at the opera, except for on Hanukkah and Purim when it was permitted. The text is also found in Simhah Assaf, Ha-Onshin Aharei Hatimat ha-Talmud, p. 116.

Finally, I would like to point to a very interesting source that as far as I know has never been mentioned in any of the many halakhic articles dealing with kol ishah. I refer to R. Joseph Hayyim’s Imrei Binah, ch. 3, no. 79. Here is the page.

For those who are unclear as to what he means, he explains it himself in his book Ateret Tiferet im Pelaot Rabot. Here is the title page of the book, which for some reason is not on hebrewbooks.org or Otzar ha-Hokhmah. The text that appears in Imrei Binah also appears in this book, and R. Joseph Hayyim’s explanation is found on p. 116 (no. 202).

According to R. Joseph Hayyim, if the singing of an individual woman is accompanied by instruments, meaning that there are “many voices”, then it is permissible. This is an incredible limud zekhut, because pretty much every singer today is accompanied by music.[43]
[1] Referring to the beginning of Esther, where Ahasuerus is said to rule from Hodu to Cush, the Talmud, Megillah 11b, states:
From Hodu to Cush: Rav and Samuel gave different interpretations of this. One said that Hodu is at one end of the world and Cush at the other, and the other said that Hodu and Cush adjoin one another, and that [the meaning is that] as he ruled over Hodu and Cush, so he ruled from one end of the world to the other.
This passage should immediately raise a couple of questions in people’s minds. 1. Since there is no doubt that both amoraim knew where India and Ethiopia were located, why did one of them explain that the two countries are next to each other? How come he didn’t accept the common identification of Cush and Ethiopia? 2. According to the first opinion, that Hodu is at one end of the world and Cush at the other, are we to understand from this that he thought that the world was flat? (I realize that “end of the world” could be used the same way we use it today, but I wonder if that is the peshat.)

[2] See also his commentary to Isaiah 18:1, where he regards Cush as being in the East.

[3] In the last post I spoke a bit about what Rashi regarded as beautiful, based on his commentary to Song of Songs. We also find from other comments of his that he did not regard Cushim as beautiful. Based upon what we have already seen, I assume that for Rashi a Cushi would have an Indian complexion. (See Moed Katan 16b regarding the skin of the Cushites.) In his commentary to Gen. 12:11 he speaks of “black and repulsive people, brothers of the Cushim.” In Num. 12:1 the Torah speaks of the Cushite that Moses married. Rashi does not take this literally and writes: “Because of her beauty she is called Cushite, as one calls his handsome son ‘Cushite’ in order that the evil eye should not have power over him.” (This same passage appears in Midrash Tanhuma 96:13, and see Yitzhak Aviner, Heikhal Rashi [Tel Aviv, 1960], vol. 4, p. 234, that it was inserted from Rashi into the Tanhuma). I think it must be very hard to teach this Rashi in elementary and even high school. One can easily see that if one of the students is a “person of color” or the student’s parent is, that the assumption of this Rashi could be very hurtful to the student. Has any reader had to deal with this?

For the same approach by Rashi, and here too it appears to be his own interpretation (although obviously based on the earlier rabbinic understanding of Cushite), see Sukkah 53a, where it mentions that Solomon had two Cushite servants. Rashi writes:

תרי כושאי: על שם שהיו יפים קרי להו הכי
See Arukh la-Ner, ad loc., who questions Rashi’s explanation, since while the Sages speak of Tziporah as being called Cushite in Num. 12:1 because of her beauty, they never say that a man would be called Cushite if he was handsome. This is precisely why I noted that what Rashi writes here is apparently his own interpretation.

Incidentally, the Artscroll translation to this passage makes as unfortunate error. While the Talmud speaks of “two Cushites”, Artscroll translates תרתי כושאי as “two Cutheans.”


The Vilna Talmud’s version is תרתי כושאי, while Rashi has תרי. Rashi’s text preserves the correct version (see also Arukh ha-Shalem, s. v. כש, p. 348 n. 4) as תרי is masculine while תרתי is feminine. In R. Meir Mazuz’s new book, Darkhei ha-Iyun, p. 5, he deals with these words and calls attention to the common grammatical error when people write תרתי דסתרי. Since דסתרי(=(הסותרים is masculine, the proper formulation is ether תרי דסתרי or תרתי דסתרן.

For more on the identification of Cushite with ugliness, see Jonathan Schorsch, Jews and Blacks in the Early Modern World (Cambridge, 2004), chs. 3-4, and Abraham Melamed, The Image of the Black in Jewish Culture (London, 2003).
[4] “Toponomy of the Targumim,” (unpublished doctoral dissertation, Oxford University, 1974), p. 134.

[5] I think readers will find this document interesting: link (pdf).

It contains the Chief Rabbinate of Israel’s acknowledgment that Hinduism is monotheistic. I don’t even think that one can speak of shituf when it comes to Hinduism. What you have in Hinduism are manifestations of the one God, and this does not appear to violate any Noahide commandment. This is significant since in the Jewish imagination Hinduism has often been seen as a classic example of real idolatry. Thus, right at the beginning of many seforim it states that passages dealing with Gentiles are only referring to idolators in places like India.


Related to the latter point, there is an unbelievable error by the great R. Judah Aszod. In 1833 the Hatam Sofer responded to the following query of a Hungarian rabbi: During Christian religious ceremonies that pass through the city, are Jews permitted to put candles in their windows? The fear was that if the Jews don’t do that, their homes would be attacked on Christian thugs (Hatam Sofer, Yoreh Deah, no. 133 [end]). The Hatam Sofer concluded that while it was permissible to indirectly request a non-Jew to light the candle, it is absolutely forbidden for a Jew to do so.

הישראל אסור לעשות וצריך למסור נפש ע”ז
The same issue is dealt with by the Hatam Sofers’s son in Ketav Sofer, Yoreh Deah no. 84, and a similar issue by his grandson in Da’at Sofer, Yoreh Deah, no. 59. See also R. Eliezer Deutsch, Peri ha-Sadeh, vol. 3 no. 10.

In the Hatam Sofer’s responsum he speaks of the candle lighting that takes place in “India”.

ולענין מה שמסבבים בארץ הודו בע”ז שלהם, וכל הדרים באותו המבוי צריכים להדליק נרות, ויהודים הדרים שם אם אינם מדליקים הם בסכנה מפני ההמונים.
There is no doubt whatsoever that the word “India” is not to be taken literally and that the Hatam Sofer is referring to local Christian practices. After all, he was responding to the question of a Hungarian rabbi! The responsa by his son, grandson, and Deutsch don’t even feel that it is necessary to point this out, as it is so obvious.

It is incredible is that R. Judah Aszod, Yehudah Ya’aleh, Yoreh Deah, no. 170, takes the Hatam Sofer to really be speaking of India, even though as just mentioned, he was responding to a halakhah le-ma’aseh question from Hungary, not from a rabbi in Bombay! This misunderstanding contributes to Aszod’s lenient decision.


לענ”ד הח”ס דוקא קאי על ארץ הודו שמסבבים בע”ז שלהם . . . משא”כ במדינתינו אינו חק המדינה כ”א באיזו מקומות ולא עפ”י המושל אלא מרשעת שונאי ישראל, והדלקת הנרות אצלם נמי רק אין כוונתם להעביר על הדת כ”א שיהודים ישמחו עמהם וזה מותר משום איבה כברמ”א ביו”ד ססי’ קמח . . . וגם בזה”ז לא עובדי ע”ז הן לא מקרי אליל שלהם עכו”ם כמ”ש הש”ך סי’ קנא ס”ק יז.
In this passage he cites two sources. The second one is the Shakh, whom he cites as claiming that the Christian religious item (I assume he means the crucifix) does not have the status of an אליל. However, the Shakh actually says the exact opposite of what Aszod quotes him as saying.

ודוחק לומר דכיון דבזמן הזה לאו עובדי עבודת כוכבים הן לא מיקרי אליל שלהם עבודת כוכבים
The other source he cites is R. Moses Isserles, whose comments are indeed quite significant. I don’t understand why this source is not cited in support of celebrating Thanksgiving even by those who assume that there is some religious component to the holiday.

אם נכנס לעיר ומצאם שמחים ביום חגם ישמח עמהם משום איבה דהוי כמחניף להם ומ”מ בעל נפש ירחיק מלשמוח עמהם אם יוכל לעשות שלא יהיה לו איבה בדבר
Presumably, the opponents of Thanksgiving assume that there is no enmity in not celebrating, so the Rama’s permission doesn’t apply. I wonder though, do the people in Lakewood who require the non-Jewish bus drivers to work on Thanksgiving really think that this insistence doesn’t create enmity?
Returning to the responsum of Aszod, the problems I have pointed to were noted by R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira, Minhat Eleazar, vol. 1 no. 53:3, and he is dumbfounded. It is precisely with regard to this sort of responsum, where the errors are obvious (misunderstanding the clear meaning of the Hatam Sofer, misquoting the Shakh), and it was published posthumously, that people are often tempted to claim that it is not authentic. I won’t go this far, but is it possible that a student wrote the responsum and Aszod just signed his name without examining it carefully?
[6] As with the other volumes of this series, one can find lots of interesting passages in vol. 4. Here are just a few. P. 56b: Moses opposed the eating of meat, but he could not forbid it because the people would regard this as heresy. P. 98b: Hirschensohn mentions the notion, already expressed by the Vilna Gaon, that sometimes the Talmud’s explanation of the Mishnah is to be understood as a form of derash. In other words, the explanation is not in accord with what the Mishnah really intended. He also refers to Berdyczewski and writes zikhrono li-verakhah after his name. P. 14a: There is no obligation in contemporary times for married women to cover their hair.

וזהוא ההיתר שנוהגים היום ברוב המדינות שהנשים מבנות ישראל הולכות בגלוי הראש, אם שהראשונות שבטלו את המנהג היו נקראות עוברות על דת משה אבל הבאים אחריהם אחרי שכבר נתבטל המנהג אין בזה איסור עוד.
This source has not been mentioned in any of the recent discussions about women’s hair covering. I hope to soon discuss Hirschensohn’s viewpoint at greater length, including his radically new understanding of שער באשה ערוה. I will do so as part of a larger discussion of the issue of women’s hair covering.
[7] See S.’s post here.

[8] R. Moshe Taub reminded me of Artscroll’s commentary to Deut. 34:5, which I neglected to mention in my book.
[9] I had been planning to offer one further example, but I was shown to be wrong. Let me explain: A little while ago R. Natan Slifkin had a post on werewolves, citing R. Efraim ben Shimshon’s strange comments in this regard. See here.

Slifkin earlier had written about this in his Sacred Monsters. None of this was a revelation to me since I had earlier seen the material from R. Efraim in R. Yosef Aryeh Lorincz’ Pelaot Edotekha, vol. 2, pp. 136-137. Not surprisingly, Lorincz takes this all very seriously. Readers might recall that I mentioned Lorincz’ book here. I called attention to his discussion of whether it is permitted to eat the flesh and drink the blood of demons. After this post I had a correspondence with someone who wanted to know what I thought about what Lorincz had written. I told him although I don’t know what the halakhah is in this matter, I nevertheless promise to eat the first demon that Lorincz is able to capture. I further told him that I would even volunteer to shecht it. My correspondent wasn’t seeing the comedy in this, as he thought that this was a very serious issue, that someone whom we are told to respect for his Torah knowledge could actually, in the twenty-first century, be discussing such a matter as a real halakhic problem. He was also adamant that if such a book was published by someone who taught at a Modern Orthodox school, the principal should immediately fire the author. Further correspondence revealed that he also didn’t think that anyone who believed in demons should be allowed to teach at Modern Orthodox schools.

My response to him was that I don’t think we need to get all out of shape about demons. To begin with, and readers can correct me if I am wrong, I don’t think that most people in the American haredi world really believe in demons. Yes, I know they study the talmudic passages that refer to demons, and will mention them as the reason for washing one’s hand three times in the morning, but based on conversations I have had with people in the haredi world (admittedly, most of them from the intellectual elite), I don’t think that they take it seriously. (When I say they don’t “believe” in demons, I mean real belief in the role of demons and how they affect humanity, as expressed in the Talmud and elsewhere.) It is almost like the emperor has no clothes, in that they don’t believe it but continue acting as if they do, afraid of what will happen if they are “outed”. (I have found a similar phenomenon with regard to Daas Torah. I have discussed this issue with many people in the haredi world, and have yet to find even one who accepts the version of Daas Torah advocated by so-called Haredi spokesmen and Yated Neeman.) But even if I am wrong in this, there are lots more important things to keep out of Modern Orthodox schools than an occasional reference to demons. How about the negative comments about non-Jews and even racist statements (sometimes under the guise of Torah) that children are exposed to in Modern Orthodox schools? How about rebbes telling the students that there is such a thing as spontaneous generation, which is akin to telling the students to sign up with Flat Earth society?

Getting back to werewolves, there is someone much better known than R. Efraim who refers to them, namely, Rashi. In his commentary to Job 5:23, Rashi explains that חית השדה means werewolf. (He offers the Old French, for which see Moshe Catane, Otzar ha-Loazim, no. 4208, and Joseph Greenberg, Otzar Loazei Rashi be-Tanakh, p. 211) He further adds that this is also the meaning of אדני השדה (See Kilayim 8:5). I have to admit that I was all set in this post to mention that Artscroll, which always cites Rashi’s interpretation, in this example chose to omit it. Without even examining the commentary, I was sure that Artscroll would choose to avoid mentioning anything about werewolves. Yet when I actually opened up the commentary, prepared by R. Moshe Eisemann, I was pleasantly surprised to see that he indeed tells the truth, and the whole truth, i.e.,, that Rashi was referring to a werewolf. I found something else in this volume that I didn’t expect. In an appendix he discusses whether the commentary attributed to Rashi was actually written by him. Unfortunately, Eisemann did not feel that he should inform the reader which academic sources he used in preparing this appendix.
[10] I don’t understand why Artscroll uses this word. The overviews found at the beginning of their books are actually not overviews. (Look up the word if you are not sure what it means). They should have been called what they are, namely, “introductions.”
[11] The Talmud explains sharim ve-sharot as מיני זמר, and Rashi, Eccl. 2:8, clearly based on the Talmud, explains sharim ve-sharot as מיני כלי זמר. Either Rashi’s text of the Talmud also included the word כלי , or this is how he understood the talmudic expression מיני זמר. (Literally, מיני זמר means “types of music”, and when the word כלי is added it means “various musical instruments.”)
[12] His commentary, Ta’alumot Hokhmah, is found in the standard Mikraot Gedolot.
[13] According to R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, the Rambam’s opinion is that kol ishah is only forbidden if one derives sensual pleasure from it. See Seridei Esh, vol. 2 no. 8.
[14] See here.
[15] See here.
[16] See here.
[17] R. Yuval Sherlo does not permit one to attend the opera, but if one is stuck in a situation, such as a soldier at a military event, then he rules that it is permissible to remain even though women are singing. See here.
[18] Conversations 12 (Winter 2012), pp. 43, 47; also available here. At the end of the article, Angel concludes: “Married women need not cover their hair, as long as their hair is maintained in a modest style. The wearing of wigs does not constitute a proper hair-covering for those married women who wish to cover their hair. Rather, such women should wear hats or other head coverings that actually cover their hair.” He also discusses hair covering on YouTube here.
[19] “Kol Ishah Bimeinu,” Tehumin 29 (2009), p. 143.
[20] See Seridei Esh, vol. 2 no. 8, and see also the helpful summary of positions available here.

[21] In support of this view, one can cite Hagahot Maimoniyot, Hilkhot Keriat Shema 3:16:
וקול אע”ג דאינה נראית לעינים הרהור מיהא איכא וכל אלה דוקא שאין רגילות להגלות אבל בתולה הרגילה בגלוי שער לא חיישינן דליכא הרהור וכן בקול לרגיל בו
[22] It seems to me that Tendler’s description of R. Moshe’s opinion is contradicted by Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim 1, no. 26, Orah Hayyim 4, no. 15.

[23] For a contemporary example of an Orthodox synagogue allowing women to sing, see here.

[24] See e.g., here, here, here and here.
[25] Foundations of Sephardic Spirituality (Woodstock, VT, 2006), p. 186.
[26] Jewish Women in Time and Torah (Hoboken, 1990), p. 62. Berkovits also understood the matter of women’s hair covering in the same fashion, and did not regard it as an obligation in contemporary times (heard from Berkovits’ son, Prof. Avraham Berkovits).

[27] See here.
[28] Note the language of the Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 21:1: ואסור לשמוע קול ערוה או לראות שערה

I don’t think anyone today assumes that there is a prohibition in seeing the uncovered hair of an ervah, if one is not sexually aroused, the reason being that we see it all the time and are thus used to it. By the same logic, if one is unaffected by hearing a woman sing, even if she is married, there should be no prohibition even according to how I explained the Ba’er Heitev. This is indeed the conclusion of R. Aharon de Toledo, Divrei Hefetz (Salonika, 1795), p. 113a:

עלה בידינו דהא דאמרי’ קול באשה ערוה היינו כשהיא הומיה ושוררת שירי עגבים ומתכווין ליהנות ממנה
However, the subsequent words of Toledo show that he only permits listening to a woman who is singing non-sensual songs on her own. He specifically forbids female songs directed towards men, as in a concert.

[29] The verse from Job is used in an Aggadic sense in Bava Batra 16a and Avot de-Rabbi Nathan, ch. 2, and then used by Maimonides in Hilkhot Issurei Biah 21:3.


ומותר להסתכל בפני הפנויה ולבודקה, בין בתולה בין בעולה, כדי שיראה אם היא נאה בעיניו, יישאנה; ואין בזה צד איסור. ולא עוד, אלא ראוי לעשות כן. אבל לא יסתכל דרך זנות, הרי הוא אומר “ברית, כרתי לעיני; ומה אתבונן, על בתולה”
Since he cites a verse from the book of Job, it appears that looking דרך זנות is only a rabbinic prohibition.
[30] Commentary on Sanhedrin 7:4. What this means is that one can look at a possible future wife and appreciate her beauty, for after all, one is supposed to be attracted to her. As we have seen already, in Hilkhot Issurei Biah 21:3, Maimonides adds a caveat. He states that is forbidden to look at an unmarried woman דרך זנות. What this means is that while one can look at and admire the beauty of a single woman (what I earlier referred to as “moderate sensual thought), one cannot leer at her, i.e., with lascivious intent.
[31] When Maimonides speaks of enjoying an unmarried woman’s beauty, I am certain that he is speaking of a Jewish woman, whom you can marry.
[32] Breuer, Modernity Within Tradition, p. 150. See Der Israelit, April 5, 1894, p. 503. See my post here, where I deal with the unsubstantiated rumor that Hirsch attended the opera. I quote from Prof. Breuer’s email to me where he writes: “When I went to the opera as a boy of 13-14 years my father [Isaac Breuer] did not express his dissatisfaction.”

[33] See e.g. here.
[34] See e.g. here.
[35] Modernity Within Tradition, p. 150.
[36] Since I am speaking about German Orthodoxy, let me use this opportunity to correct something I wrote. In Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, p. 53, I record the recollection of Judith Grunfeld, “daughter of a learned German rabbi,” that she had never heard of a prohibition against women singing in front of men until she went to Poland (where she taught at the Beth Jacob school). Dr. Yitzchok Levine pointed out to me that Grunfeld’s father, while living in Germany, was actually Hungarian.
[37] Listen to his shiur from Feb. 8, 2010, available here, beginning at 48:20. Rakefet also quotes R. Aharon Lichtenstein that the Rav held that in modern times there is no obligation for married women to cover their hair. Listen to the shiur just mentioned beginning at 62 minutes. I will return to this point in a future post when I deal with R. Michael Broyde’s article on the topic.

[38] See, however, R. Hershel Schachter, Mi-Peninei ha-Rav, p. 269, that the Rav told YU students that due to kol ishah it was forbidden for them to sell tickets to the opera (presumably referring to the annual YU fundraising event). This is not necessarily a contradiction to Rakefet’s point. If the Rav felt that a woman’s singing voice was only prohibited if it was sexually arousing, who can say if that applies to the person you sell the ticket to? Perhaps that is why he told them it was prohibited.
[39] Seth Farber, An American Orthodox Dreamer: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Boston’s Maimonides School (Hanover, NH, 2004), p. 165 n. 19.
[40] See Zvi Alush and Yossi Elituv, Ben Porat Yosef (Or Yehuda, 2004), p. 37. See p. 408 that to this day he listens to her music, and see also the testimony to this in Or Torah, Tevet 5770, pp. 383-384. According to R. Avraham Shammah, cantors used her tunes for various tefillot, a practice that continues to this day. See here, p. 10.
[41] Contemporary Halakhic Problems, vol. 2 p. 151. One could be led to this summary by reading the conclusion of the responsum, which states as follows:

המורם מכל האמור דביודעה ומכירה אפי’ ע”י תמונה אסור לשמוע קולה בגרמפון או ברדיו, אבל אם אינו מכירה מותר, ואין בזה משום קול באשה ערוה.
However, this conclusion needs to be read in conjunction with the question as well as the summary of the answer in the table of contents, both of which are quoted in the text and clearly state that the issue is kol ishah in the context of shema and tefillah.

[42] See here.

[43] For another important limud zekhut by R. Joseph Hayyim, see here. In the newly translated text, we see that R. Joseph Hayyim believed that the practice of European Jewish women to go with uncovered heads can be justified, and is not to be regarded as sinful.



The Valmadonna Broadside Collection: a Review Essay

The Valmadonna Broadside Collection: Review essay
By Eliezer Brodt and Dan Rabinowitz

The Writing on the Wall: A catalogue of Judaica Broadsides from the Valmadonna Trust Library, edited by Sharon Liberman Mintz, Shaul Seidler-Feller and David Wachtel, London-New York: 2015, 320 pp.

Jews have been collecting books or manuscripts for centuries. A related category that is collected by fewer is ephemera, including broadsides, documents and letters of historical significance. Of late, a few annual auctions have included some of these documents among the other objects to be auctioned. Sadly, after their appearance in the auctions’ catalogs, most of the rare items disappear in to private collections and are invariably almost impossible to track down post-auction. The result is that a valuable amount of historical information is lost to the public. Moreover, to date, there is no database that tracks or records these items.[1]
First, a definition of the type of material – broadsides; they “are all around us whether we recognize them as such or not. Walking down the street… entering the lobby of a public building… we daily even hourly see flyers for event, advertising posters, public announcements and more.” Using “the most expansive conception we can say that the broadside has been with us since antiquity… The public display of information… has been ubiquitous for a very long time.” (p. 6).
In an important and excellent essay on Jewish bibliography written in 1976,[2] Professor Israel Ta-Shema remarks that because broadsides were intended and read by “thousands and potentially hundreds of thousands” they are among the “important sources for both Jewish history and the history of Hebrew printing.”

ענין לעצמו שלא זכה למיטב ידיעתי לשום טיפול עד עצם היום הזה, הוא רישומם הביבליוגרפי של ‘הדפים הבודדים’. לפי הערכות שקולות מגיע מספרם של אלה לאלפים רבים, ואולי עד כדי רבבה, וחשיבותן הן לידיעת תולדות ישראל והן לידיעת קורות הדפוס העברי גדולה ביותר. בדרך כלל קשורים דפים אלה במריבות בין חשובי הקהל ורבניהם, סכסוכי משפחות, בנים נודדים, פולמסים דתיים וכו’. דפים אלה שנתלו או הודבקו על קירות בתי הגיטו או בבתי הכנסת וכד’ אבדו ברובם המכריע, וכל מה שנשתמר מהם הוא בגדר יוצא מן הכלל. ערך ביוחד יש לסוג ספרותי זה ביחס לפולמוסים הפנים-חסידיים והמתגנגדיים. לסוג זה יש לצרף את המודעות והכרזות עד לתקופתנו אנו, כולל כרוזי המחתרות האנטי היטלריסיות בחו”ל והאנטי מנדטריות בארץ ישראל, כרוזי נטורי קרתא וכד’, שהם רבים מאוד. מלבדם נדפסו על דפים בודדים, קמיעות וסגולות, לוחות קיר, דברי פרסומת, הסכמות נפרדות ועוד, ויש ביניהם גם מעשיות עממיות קצרות על דף אחד. [מצוי ורצוי בביבליוגרפיה העברית, יד לקורא טו (תשל”ו), עמ’ 79-7 ].        

History is not the only subject to benefit from broadsides.  The prolific author, R. Eliyahu David Teomim (Aderet), published and annotated a broadside recording the customs of the Great Synagogue of the Austria, whose Rabbis had included R. Shmuel Edels (Maharsha).[3]  
Recently some of collectors of broadsides have begun printing and reproducing these priceless treasures.[4] The Valmadonna Trust Library (see here), still one of the most significant private Hebraica libraries (for an appreciation of the Valmadonna Library, penned by its librarian and published at the Seforim blog in 2009, see here), published a catalog of the broadsides in its collection, The Writing on the Wall: A catalogue of Judaica Broadsides from the Valmadonna Trust Library, edited by Sharon Liberman Mintz, Shaul Seidler-Feller and David Wachtel (see here). In conjunction with the publication of the catalog, the Trust also made available online (here) all of the documents in its collection for further study. The collection is comprised of broadsides from the sixteenth to twentieth centuries and incorporates items from Italy (the library generally focused on Italy and Italian items and broadsides are no exception, with Italian broadsides being the largest of the collection), and elsewhere in Europe, Israel, Yemen, Iraq, Constantinople, India, and even one from America.
The book consists of a few parts. It begins with five scholarly essays on specific subjects by various experts. Following are excellent full-page reproductions of thirty-six highlights from the collection, including a description explaining the significance of the specific document. A full catalog of the collection is included and is divided into six main categories; each category is chronologically ordered. The six categories are: Poems, Prayers, Documents from Within the Jewish Community, Documents from Outside the Jewish Community, Calendars and Education. Each entry includes a description of the item, the title, author place and date of printing, printer, size and language. Some entries include additional bibliographical sources; others provide a small image of the item. Additionally, the non-English broadsides included in the highlight section are translated. The volume concludes with various other useful indexes.
The first introductory essay is an excellent overview of Jewish broadsides by Adam Shear. Shear asks and answers the basic questions that come to mind, such as: “What was the purpose?”, “Who was the audience?”, “Where were they displayed?” and the like, none of which can be answered singularly.  
The second essay is by Elisheva Carlebach and focuses on the Jewish wall calendars in the collection.[5] She explores what can be learned from tracing the cultural history of one of the printers of these calendars through various calendars he printed. Some of these calendars were very sophisticated and it’s unclear who the targeted audience was. Emphasizing calendar broadsides’ unique value, she concludes that “the most ephemeral of forms, broadside calendars preserve a glimpse of the printshop as workspace, the spirit of entrepreneurship and the enduring values of the creators of these humble yet precious objects” (p. 30).
The third essay is written by Ruth Langer and focuses on the Liturgical Broadsides of the collection.  Some are prayers for current events, one of interest (printed on p.33) is for a memorial service for a building that collapsed in Mantua in 1776 where three weddings were taking place simultaneously.[6] Also discussed are the prayers for various civic events (p. 35) and for the various governing powers, a subject which still needs to be explored in depth. Some of these broadsides were clearly displayed in shuls; one includes the language of the prayers, defusing the power of bad dreams and request for substance, that are recited along with Birchat Cohanim (p.15), others include prayer that are recited during Selichot (p.14). One broadside, printed in Izmir in 1890, contains the Vidduy of Yom Kippur, printed with each entry of the Aleph Beis featuring other sins under that letter, very similar to the sheets given out in various shuls today (p.44). Not all were intended for the public display, the following broadside from Venice 1607 (Item # 153) appears to have been hanging in the house, for the owners’ personal use.
The next essay, by Dvora Bregman, focuses on the Hebrew poems in the collection (mostly from Italy). This section also highlights various pieces of historical interest. Reading through it, one is amazed how poems were written for literally every occasion – completion of Mishna, Venice, 1630 (p.55), receiving a medical degree (p.51, there are sixteen examples in the collection), in honor of R. Israel Chazan’s[7] visit to the old Greek synagogue in Corfu in 1853 (item # 134) (see below). Some of the poems were written after the deaths of prominent people such as an Italian elegy for R’ Moshe Zacuto which is reproduced in full and translated from Italian to English. Other elegies include one for R’ Yehudah Aryeh Modena (see below) and for R’ Mordechai Gerondi, the latter written by his friend Shadal (see below). There are also many “wedding riddles” in the collection – providing evidence of another rich and diverse aspect of Jewish life in Italy. 

The next section, originally written in Hebrew by Nachum Rakover and translated into English for this volume by Shaul Seidler-Feller, focuses on the Takanot broadsides found in this collection. Sumptuary edicts, limiting the size of a celebratory affair and the amount of people invited, the amount of food to be served, or the amount of money to be spent on various sorts of occasions were commonplace from the medieval until the modern period.  For example, we note that the Nodeh Beyhehudah and his beis din in Prague issued a list of such Takonot.[8] Rakover is in middle of preparing for publication a thorough study on the subject. In the volume under review, his article deals with the seventeen Italian broadsides related to sumptuary laws in the Valmadonna Collection from 1598-1794. The article is impressive in its sweeping review of the topic and the placement of these items within the larger narrative. What is apparent from the examples in the collection is that sumptuary laws have been persistent. Indeed, recently the cudgel has been taken up anew and a new round of such edicts by numerous rabbis and Hasidic leaders to limit spending has been promulgated. 
                                                  
Exploring the Collection
The introductory essays are only the beginning in what can be uncovered in a collection as rich as this one.  By providing online access, the Trust has insured that can occur.  To begin that exploration, we discuss a few choice examples.
As was recently the case with American Pharaoh, Jewish have been involved in sport, and specifically horse racing.  The collection includes two Italian broadsides discussing the horses and the Jewish sponsorship of a horse race. (Nos. 311 & 328).
One surprising and lengthy – some ninety lines – ode was composed in Hebrew (ca. 1740) and is a “poem of praise and supplication addressed to Angelo Maria Quirini (1680-1755), an Italian Cardinal.”  This item is “a single bi[-]folio excised from a larger work, most likely a pamphlet,” and is “not a true broadside.” (No. 130). No additional information is provided on this intriguing item.[9]

Friday Night Candle Lighting Prayers

The following broadside from Venice 1835, (reproduced on p. 17), contains the text of the prayers that were customarily recited by women on Friday evening during the candle lighting ceremony.

The illustration depicts a woman lighting eight candles. The Rishonim, including Italian sources, Shibolei Haleket (Siman 59) and Sefer Hatadir (p.196), only require and discuss two candles for Shabbos.[10] The question is when exactly did people start lighting more? The exact time when this began is unknown. However, in the “Shulchan Aruch” from R’ Yehudah Aryeh Modenah (1571-1648) he describes the Italian custom of lighting multiple candles:
והנשים חייבות להדליק בבית נר של שמן ובתוכו לכל הפחות ארבע או שש פתילית להאיר בערב עד עבור חלק גדול מהלילה [עמ’ 54].
Some continued to advance the numbers and in the 19th century, one author records the custom of lighting 31, 45, and 52 candles weekly.
מה מאוד היה מכבד שבת ויום טוב והיה מנהגו להדליק בכל שבת ל”א נרות כמנין אל כי בו שבת אל מכל מלאכתו, ובסוף ימיו מ”ה נרות, ולפני מותו היה מצווה להדליק בשנה ראשונה בחדר שהיה לומד בו נ”ב נרות כל שבת [מה שהעידו על ר’ הירץ אברהם נפתלי שייאר בהקדמת נכד המחבר לפירושו תורי זהב, (על שיר השירים), ירושלים תשס”ג, עמ’ טז].
Corporal Punishment
The following broadside poster for the instruction of children is from Italy 1846 (125):[11]


One striking part of the image is of the teacher hitting children in school. This sort of practice is recorded in a number of Jewish texts.[12]  For example:

A 17th century autobiography recounts that “the new teacher was of an irritable temper… he hit me and put me to shame…”. [Alexander Marx, Studies in Jewish History and Booklore, New York 1944, p. 193].

R’ Yaakov Emden writes in his autobiography:
בשנות הילדות… אזכיר איזה גרגרים, שלשה דברים נוראים שקרו לי בימי ילדותי הרכות. … ומלבד המכות אשר הוכיתי בית מאהבי המלמדים אשר נמסרתי בידיהם ללימוד, היו על פי רוב אכזרים, היכוני בלי חמלה… [מגלת ספר, עמ’ 84].
Saul Berlin writes in his satirical work:
ומתועלת ההכאה עוד, כי הוא צד היתר למלמדים לקבל שכר, כי על הלמוד לבד אסור לקבל שכר, משום קרדום לחתו בו, ואם כן כל מלמד המרבה להכות הרי זה משובח… ועוד רבה התועלת ע”י ההכאה אשר הילדים מכים ולוקים בבית הספר, כי ליראתם את המכות קרבת מוריהם יחפצו וירבו עליהם מוהר ומתן למען חנות אותם, ובהגיע חודש ומועד יפצירו הילדים באבותם לתת להם משאת רב, להביא אל רבם לתתם לו כופר נפשם…”. [כתב יושר, [בתוך: יהודה פרידלנדר, פרקים בסאטירה העברית בשלהי מאה הי”ח בגרמניה, תל אביב תש”ם], עמ’  98].
R’ Yosef Kara writes:
שבהיותי בצוותא חדא אם כבוד ידידי הגאון הצדיק מו”ה שמעון סופר אב”ד דק”ק קראקא… והוא אמר ז”ל כי זה רע חולי שאין חפץ לגדולי לומדי תורה להיות מקרי דרדקי, כי הוא חרפה להם ע”כ מוכרחים אבות הבנים ליתן בניהם הקטנים אל איש אשר לא ידע ספר קרוא מקרא ודקדוק אך ידע להכות הבנים ולזעוק בקול גדול… [קול אמר קרא, פ’ פנחס, עמ’ 20].
This broadside from Amsterdam 1666 is a little more famous, as it’s a supposed depiction of Shabbetai Tzvi. A complete translation for the Dutch is provided in at the appendix (pp.264-65).

Gershom Scholem writes that this portrait of Tzvi is fictitious – one of a number of imaginary portraits. (Sabbatai Sevi, pp. 190-191, 158). The only picture of Shabbetai Tzvi believed to be authentic (that is, drawn by a witness) is the one found in the beginning of Thomas Coenen’s book Ydele Verwachtinge der Joden, Amsterdam 1669.[13] There might be others as well, but King Jan Casimir ordered all pictures of him to be destroyed (id., p. 597). This one, fortunately, was published.

(This is from Scholem’s personal copy.)

Kabbalistic Tefilos for Rosh Hashanah


This broadside from Mantua 1790, reproduced in the book (p.43), is of interest for several reasons. First, the top part of the broadside has the twenty fourth chapter of Tehilim, said by many Kehilot on Rosh Hashanah as a segulah for Parnasa.[14] In a work written around 1700, recently printed from manuscript, we find the author writes:

אחר ערבית, יש לי תוכחת מגולה ומסותרת אם קצת משכילים, שהנהיגו לקרות בבית הכנסת בציבור אחר עלינו לשבח בלילי ר”ה, מזמור לה’ הארץ ומלואה, ולכוין הנקוד של השם, ככתוב בספר שערי ציון, שהוא מסוגל לפרנסה, שלא יפה הם עושים, כי לא כן צוה הרב המגיד לנו סוד זה, והצנועים נהגו לאמרו בשני הלילות שתי פעמים בכל לילה תכופים זה לזה… והקריאה על שולחנו קודם ברכת מזון… דבר הלמד מענינו, בהצנע לכת עם אלקיך. על כן אמרתי ימים ידברו, להויע ידידי הקורא שדבר בדוק ומנוסה שכל סגולה הנעשית על ידי תפלה בשום כוונה או שם, שאין לך לפרסמו ברבים. ולא לגלותו כי אם לתלמיד הגון ירא חטא ובלחישה, לבל היה מוליך רכיל מגלה סוד, שאז תהיה הפעולה חלושה… [ר’ כליפא בן מלכה, כף נקי, [לוד תשע”ד] עמ’ 167].

The second part of this broadside is also of interest, as it has the tefilos said before, during and after the shofar blowing, including some of the Kabblastic tefilos with names of angels. Of note is what is omitted here, those parts said between the various sets of Shofar blowing, which has been the subject of lots of literature[15], as it includes a very strange phrase, that seemingly evokes Jesus: ישוע שר הפנים””.
Here is an article written on this topic by R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi written in 1944 (!) under one of his pen names:

One more point related to this topic is a case of censorship. R’ Chaim Kraus writes:
 הנה בזכר יהוסף… מתיחס לזה שבדפוסים האחרונים בשו”ת תשובה מאהבה הושמט הענין הנ”ל שכתב בחריפות נגד אמירת היהי רצון שמות המלאכים… [מכלכל חיים בחסד, עמ’ סד].
However, upon checking the sources to see when in the printing of the sefer Teshuvah M’Ahavah this censorship took place, one is hard pressed to find it, as it’s simply not there. The actual issue is a bit different; Kraus misunderstood R’ Yosef Zechariah Stern’s teshuvah.
In an extraordinary teshuvah dealing with these prayers (Zecher Yehosef, Siman 210), R’ Yosef Zechariah Stern mentions a certain case of censorship:
ובתשובה מאהבה ח”א סי’ א שהועתקה תשובתו בדבר הפיוטים ברוב המחזורים.. והמדפיסים להפיס דעת ההמון שהורגלו באמירת היהי רצון שבתקיעות השמיטו מה שהזכיר בסוף התשובה אות ס’ שמרעם בהזכרת שמות המלאכים… וכן השמיטו המדפיסים בהעתקתם מהתשובה מאהבה מה שהעיד מהנודע ביהודה שאחד היה רוצה לברך על אתרוג המהודר שלו וכשראה שאומר היהיה רצון… אמר איני מניחו לברך על אתרוג שלי…
This Teshuvah was printed in various Machzorim at the time and that is where these parts of the teshuva were indeed bowdlerized. See the following images for the pages as they appear in the Korbon Aharon Machazor printed in Vilna in 1839 and compare with the first print of the teshuvah (Prague, 1809).

Amulet Broadsides


This image from Jerusalem 1870 (pp. 130-131) highlights another notable part of this collection – the Amulet section. It contains numerous broadsides against the “evil eye”, aimed at protecting the newborn mother from Lilith and the like (pp. 132-135, 141-143, 194-197). This is yet an additional set of documents which demonstrate how widespread it was for people to use amulets and the fear of the “evil eye” and the like.
There are numerous sources on regarding amulets, some mentioned here.[16] One source, that was only recently published in English, is from a fascinating memoir by Pauline Wengeroff, who writes: “for the same purpose of protecting the newborn, Jews used to affix kabbalistic prayers called shemaus over the head of the new mother, a second page on the door and a third between the cushion of the child.”[17]
Controversy against R’ Shlomo Ganzfried – Author of Kitzur Shulhan Aruch

This document relates to a controversy between R’ Shlomo Ganzfried and the R’ Chaim Halberstamm, the Divrei Chaim. In his work Ohali Shem on Gittin, R’ Ganzfried took issue with some legal rulings of the Divrei Chaim. This erupted into a series of small works from R’ Weber, starting in 1882, defending the honor of the Divrei Chaim. R’ Ganzfried responded to one of them in the back of the 1884 edition of his Kitzur Shulchan Aruch.
This broadside (above) from R’ Weber against R’ Ganzfried, found in the Valmadonna Collection, is very rare (p. 217 #360).[18] 
The Valmadonna Collection has another rare broadside from R’ Weber (below), related to the famous controversy of the Corfu Esrogim (p. 219 # 369).[19] This is not included in Naftali Ben Menachem’s otherwise comprehensive article regarding R’ Weber.

Regarding this broadside, it’s worth quoting the great historian[20] and native of the Old Yishuv, Eliezer Malachi:
ור’ מרדכי אליעזר וובר, הרב דאדא, זה האחרון היה אש לוהטת, ובקנאותו לא ידע גבול, עד שבשנת תרנ”א אסרו את אתרוגי קורפו לטובת אתרוגי ארץ ישראל, נלחם הוא להתיר אתרוגי קורפו ולאסור את אתרוגי ארץ ישראל שגדלים בפרדסי המושבות של חובבי ציון [מנגד תראה, עמ’ 225].
The volume is beautifully produced, the reproductions are excellent, and is available in a larger format “coffee table” size. This is a great volume, for collectors of books and history. It is available for purchase here and at the YU Seforim sale here.

[1] The Otzar Ha-Hochma database should be commended for including some auction catalogs in its archive, and even some broadsides, which will provide at least fragmentary information regarding the existence of these invaluable documents.
[2] This essay does not appear in Ta-Shema’s four volume collected writing, it is unclear why it was excluded. 
[3]  For more on this see: Eliezer Brodt, Likutei Eliezer, pp. 11-12.
[4] We discuss two broadsides related to the election of the Vilna chief rabbi between R. Hayyim Ozer and R. Y. Rubenstein (here).The Israel Musuem mounted an exhibit of broadside regarding Haredim.  See Pashkevilim, Wall Announcements and Polemic Posters in the Ultra-Orthodox Street, Israel Museum-Yad Ben Tzvi, Jerusalem: 2005 (Hebrew). This volume contains a number of introductory essays, and germane here, Menachem Friedman’s essay “The Pashqevil (Pasquinade) and Public Wall Poster/Bulletin Board Announcements in  Haredi (Ultra-Orthodox) Society” is especially important, although it is not cited in the Valmadonna volume.
[5] See the lengthier treatment of the topic in her book, Elisheva Carlebach, Jewish Calendar and Culture in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2011.
[6]  See also p. 210 # 332.
[7]  On this great person, it is well worth quoting Professor Yaakov Sussman’s assessment in a footnote, in a book-length (175 pp) essay – one of the most important ones written in the past decade on the writing of Torah She-Bal Peh – where writes:

מסה מרשימה ביותר בבקיאותו, בחריפותו, בפלפולו בתקיפותו של המחבר לאורך כמאה עמודים גדושים, שבה סיכם כמעט כל מה שנאמר לפניו בנושא… בתשובה זו מתגלה המחבר כחכם בקי, תמים ובעל חושב ביקורתי כאחת, שכל רז לא אניס ליה, לא בספרות הרבני ולא במחקרי זמנו, והוא מצליח לגייס את ידיעתיו להגצת עמדתו… ואין פלא כלל שתשובה מרשימה זו כבשה במהרה את הלבבות והייתה למילה אחרונה בנושא ודעתו נתקבלה כמעט על כל החוקרים [מחקרי תלמוד, ג, עמ’ 235].
[8]  See Mofas Hador, pp. 37-40. See also Yerushaseinu 5 (2011), pp. 265-299; R’ Betzael Landau (here).
[9] We doubt that the composer was Jewish or the text was intended for a Jewish audience. Instead, similar odes – in Hebrew and the subject is Christian – appear in a number of Latin translations of Hebrew texts. See, for example, Coccejus’ Latin translation and abridgement of tractates Sanhedrin and Makkot, includes Hebrew poems in his own honor and that of his teacher. Duo Tituli Thalmudici Sanhedrin et Maccoth, ed. Joanne [Coccejus], Amsterdam, 1629, unpaginated introduction.
Another notable example of clerical citation is Cardinal Egidius de Viterbo who appears in Elijah Levita’s works.  See Solomon Buber, Tolodot Eliyahu ha-Tishby, Leipzig, 1856, nn. 15-18.
[10]  For more sources on this, see: Rabbi Oberlander, Minhag Avosenu Beyadneu, (Shonot), pp. 11-19; R’ Yechiel Goldhaber, Minhaghei Hakehilot, 1, pp. 174-175; Eliezer Brodt, Yerushaseinu 2 (2008), pp. 203-204; Rabbi Y.M. Dubovick, Minucha Sheleimah (2014), pp.26-27.
[11] The full document is translated in the appendix of the book (pp. 288-290).
[12] For additional sources on this subject, see S. Assaf, Mekorot le-Tolodot ha-Chinuch be-Yisrael, s.v. makot.
[13] Coenen’s book is a very important contemporaneous account of the messianic fervor surrounding Tzvi.  The book was translated from Dutch into Hebrew, Tzepiot Shav shel ha-Yehudim Kefi she-Hetgalu be-Demuto shel Shabbati Tzvi, Merkaz Dinur, Jerusalem, 1998. 
[14]  On this see: R’ Yechiel Goldhaber, Minhaghei Hakehilot, 2, pp. 31-33; Eliezer Brodt, Yerushaseinu 2 (2008), p. 211.
[15]  See R’ Yechiel Goldhaber, Minhaghei Hakehilot, 2, pp.61-65, where he traces how far back the custom of saying these Tefilos can be dated. See also Eliezer Brodt, Yerushaseinu 2 (2008), p. 214. The main work on this subject, collecting vast material, is R’ Chaim Kraus, MiChalkel Chaim Bechesed 2, (1982). See also R’ Zev Rabinowitz, Sharei Toras Bavel, p.12; R’ Chaim Lieberman, Ohel Rochel, 1, pp. 511-515; Y. Leibes, Mechkari Yerushalayim Bimachshevet Yisrael 6 (1986), pp. 171-195.
[16]  See also Eliezer Brodt, Likutei Eliezer, pp. 13-22, 69-72; Jewish Magic through the ages: Angels and Demons, edited by Filip Vukosvoviv, Bible land Museum, Jerusalem 2010.
[17]  Pauline Wengeroff, Memoirs of a Grandmother, 2, 2014, p. 89.
[18] On R’ Ganzfried, see R’ Y. Rubinstein, HaMayan 11:3 (1971), pp. 1-13; ibid. 11:4. pp. 61-78. See also Naftoli Ben Menachem, HaMayan 12 :1 (1972) pp. 39-42.  On this controversy, see R’ Rubenstein, ibid. pp. 10-11. On R’ Weber, see Naftoli Ben Menachem, in: Studies in Jewish bibliography, history, and literature in honor of I. Edward Kiev, Charles Berlin (editor), New York 1971, pp. 13-20. On this broadside, see Shoshanna Halevy, Sifrei Yerushlayim Ha-Rishonim, p. 188. On the other works by R’ Weber related to this issue, see ibid, pp. 156-157, 186-187, 219-220. See also Moshe Carmilly, Sefer VeSayif, pp. 264-265.
For an additional controversy between the Divrei Chaim and R’ Ganzfried see David Assaf, HeTzitz Unifgah, (2012) pp. 362-367.
About R’ Ganzfried and Chasidim, see Heichal HaBesht 3 (2003), pp. 105-117. For more on the Divrei Chaim’s methods of Pesak, see Iris Brown, Rabbi Hayyim Halberstam of Sanz: His Halakhic Ruling in view of his Intellectual world and the challenges of his time, (PHD Bar Ilan University) 2004 (heb.).
[19]  This is the subject of a future article. For now, see R’ Yosef Zechariah Stern, Zecher Yehosef, siman 232.
[20]  About Malachi, see Jacob Kabakoff, “Some Notable Bibliographers I have Known”, Judaica Librarianship, Vol.11 :1-2, (2003), p. 67-75.



How much Greek in “Greek Wisdom”? On the Meaning of Hokhmat Yevanit

How much Greek in “Greek Wisdom”? On the Meaning of Hokhmat Yevanit

by Eliyahu Krakowski

      In the medieval controversies over the study of philosophy, one of the major points of contention was the Talmudic prohibition against hokhmat yevanit. Modern historians, who are generally well-disposed toward the Maimonidean proponents of philosophy (often at the expense of the anti-rationalists), nevertheless often assume that the anti-rationalists had the better of this particular argument. The Maimonidean defense of philosophy against the Talmudic stricture, if not an outright distortion, was at least a forced explanation.[1] However, the truth seems to be the opposite—it was not the defenders of philosophy who “redefined” the Talmudic passages, it was philosophy’s opponents. The success of this redefinition indeed put the proponents of philosophy on the defensive, but without good reason. To demonstrate this thesis, we will briefly consider the Talmudic evidence, and then turn to the history of the interpretation of the phrase hokhmat yevanit. Most contemporary scholars who have discussed the Talmudic passages have concluded, with varying degrees of certainty, that hokhmat yevanit incorporates Greek philosophy. Gerald Blidstein, noting the indeterminacy of the sources nevertheless concludes, “Though no Talmudic source indicates what is included in this wisdom, it is likely that literature, rhetoric, and philosophy are what is meant, while language instruction in a matter of further debate.”[2] Louis Feldman likewise claims that, “when the Talmud imposes a curse on those who instruct their sons in Greek wisdom, a good guess is that this wisdom is philosophy,” and “that the rabbis were strongly opposed to the study of philosophy may be inferred from the fact that … its teaching is cursed together with swine herding, and hence is associated with the antithesis of Judaism.”[3] Noah Efron claims unambiguously that, “if one wants still more evidence of rabbinic indifference toward philosophy of nature, it is worth considering that, in many places in the Talmud (and then for centuries after the Talmud), a synonym for philosophy of nature was ‘Greek wisdom.’”[4] David Shatz formulates his position more carefully: Regarding Talmudic and Midrashic literature, Shatz says, “we find no evidence of extensive involvement with philosophy… and we even encounter statements that could be construed as opposed to ‘Greek wisdom,’ ‘the wisdom of the nations,’ and ‘logic.’[5]

However, when we turn to the Talmudic passages in question, the evidence for the identification of hokhmat yevanit with philosophy is lacking. In context, these passages support a narrower definition of hokhmat yevanit:

בבא קמא (פב ע”ב – פג ע”א): תנו רבנן: כשצרו בית חשמונאי זה על זה, היה הורקנוס מבפנים ואריסטובלוס מבחוץ. ובכל יום היו משלשים להם בקופה דינרין, והיו מעלים להם תמידין. היה שם זקן אחד שהיה מכיר בחכמת יוונית, אמר להם: כל זמן שעוסקין בעבודה אין נמסרים בידכם. למחר שילשלו דינרין בקופה, והעלו להם חזיר. כיון שהגיע לחצי החומה נעץ צפרניו בחומה, ונזדעזעה ארץ ישראל ארבע מאות פרסה על ארבע מאות פרסה. באותה שעה אמרו: ארור האיש שיגדל חזירים, וארור האדם שילמד את בנו חכמת יוונית… וחכמת יוונית מי אסירא? והתניא, אמר רבי: בארץ ישראל לשון סורסי למה? או לשון הקדש או לשון יונית! … אמרי: לשון יוני לחוד, חכמת יונית לחוד. וחכמת יונית מי אסירא? והאמר רב יהודה אמר שמואל משום רשב”ג: (איכה ג) עיני עוללה לנפשי מכל בנות עירי – אלף ילדים היו בבית אבא, חמש מאות מהם למדו תורה, חמש מאות למדו חכמת יונית, ולא נשתייר מהם אלא אני כאן ובן אחי אבא בעסיא! אמרי: שאני בית רבן גמליאל, שהיו קרובים למלכות; וכדתניא: המספר קומי הרי זה מדרכי האמורי, אבטולמוס בר ראובן התירו לו לספר קומי, מפני שהוא קרוב למלכות; של בית רבן גמליאל התירו להם לספר בחכמת יונית, מפני שקרובים למלכות.

In this passage, the knowledge of hokhmat yevanit enables communication with the Greek enemy. Furthermore, the initial confusion between “lashon yevani” and “hokhmat yevanit” and the use of the verb “lesapper”—to speak—regarding hokhmat yevanit indicate that we are discussing a linguistic phenomenon. The next Talmudic relevant passage is more problematic, and seemingly presents a prohibition on everything but Torah study:

מנחות צט ע”ב: שאל בן דמה בן אחותו של ר’ ישמעאל את ר’ ישמעאל: כגון אני שלמדתי כל התורה כולה, מהו ללמוד חכמת יונית? קרא עליו המקרא הזה: לא ימוש ספר התורה הזה מפיך והגית בו יומם ולילה, צא ובדוק שעה שאינה לא מן היום ולא מן הלילה ולמוד בה חכמת יונית.

However, in light of the prohibition on hokhmat yevanit, it would seem more likely that R. Yishmael’s response should not be construed as a prohibition on all non-Torah pursuits, but as a rhetorical enforcement of the existing ban on hokhmat yevanit. This reading receives support from a parallel in the Jerusalem Talmud:

ירושלמי סוטה פ”ט הט”ו: שאלו רבי יהושע מהו שילמד אדם את בנו יונית. אמר להן ילמדנו בשעה שאינה לא יום ולא לילה דכתיב והגית בו יומם ולילה. מעתה אסור לאדם ללמד את בנו אומנות בגין דכתיב והגית בו יומם ולילה. והתני רבי ישמעאל ובחרת בחיים זו אומנות. רבי בא בריה דרבי חייה בר בא בשם ר’ יוחנן מפני המסורות.

Turning now to the medieval commentators, Maimonides addresses the definition of this term in his commentary on the Mishnah (Sotah 9:15):

ואמרו יונית, רוצה לומר חכמה יונית, לפי שהיו מכנים את הרמזים שבדבור, וכן דברים שאינם כפשוטם אלא יש להן ענין נסתר חכמה. ובתלמוד אמרו ר’ משתעי לשון חכמה והזכירו דברי חידה כמו שנתבאר בגמר עבודה זרה. והיה אצל היונים דברים מעין אלה מיוחדים אצל אומה זו שמשוחחים בהם מה שרוצים כעין רמזים וחידות, וטעם אסור דבר זה לפי שבזמן בית שני צר אחד ממלכי בני חשמונאי על ירושלם והיו אנשי ירושלם משלשלין להם למחנה קופה דינרין בכל יום ונותנין להם בהם שני תמידין לקרבן והיה שם איש היודע אלו הרמזים שהמציאו היונים ודבר עמהם בהם, וכך הוא לשון התלמוד לעז להם בחכמה יונית שכל זמן שהם מקריבין לא תוכלו לכבשם והפסיקו מהם הקרבן, באותה שעה אסרו שילמד שום אדם אותם הרמזים שהמציאו היונים לדבר בהם. ודבר זה אין לי ספק שנשתקע ולא נשאר ממנו בעולם היום לא מעט ולא הרבה.

According to Maimonides, hokhmat yevanit has nothing to do with Greek philosophy, and Maimonides adds emphatically, whatever coded language intended by this term is undoubtedly no longer in existence. In accordance with his position here, Maimonides makes no mention of what is now an obsolete prohibition in his code. A number of contemporary scholars have assumed that Maimonides’ explanation is the result of his predetermined position on the merit of Aristotelian philosophy, and therefore an attempt to redefine a problematic prohibition.[6] Yet if we look at Maimonides predecessors, his position is hardly novel. Rashi in his Talmudic commentary takes a position essentially identical to Maimonides. In his commentary to Menahot (64b) Rashi defines hokhmat yevanit in one word: “רמיזות”. In the Sotah passage (49b), Rashi explains further: חכמת יוונית – לשון חכמה שמדברים בו בני פלטין ואין שאר העם מכירין בו. This position is not unique to Rashi. Tosafot likewise assume as self-understood that hokhmat yevanit refers to a coded language. Thus in explaining the Talmudic passage according to which Babylonia has no “ketav,” Tosafot (Avodah Zarah 10a) cite R. Isaac of Dampierre who explains this to mean that Babylonia lacks its own “important language” akin to hokhmat yevanit:

לכך פירש ר”י כתב לשון חשוב שהמלכים משתמשין בו כעין חכמת יונית והיינו דאמרינן במגילה (דף י: ושם( והכרתי לבבל שם ושאר שם זה לשון ומאי קאמר דהא בלשון ארמי הם מספרים ועודם משתמשין בו אלא בודאי לשון מלכות קאמר.[7]

Nor is this view of hokhmat yevanit limited to Ashkenazi predecessors of Maimonides. An anonymous Gaon (quoted in R. Betzalel Ashkenazi’s Shitah Mekubetzet to Bava Kama 83a) also explains: חכמת יונית לחוד. דחכמת יונית אסורה והאי חכמת יונית ברמיזה הוה. גאון ז”ל. Likewise, later halakhists who believed that it is prohibited to sudy Greek philosophy nevertheless did not understand the prohibition of hokhmat yevanit as a prohibition against philosophy. For example, R. Isaac b. Sheshet (Rivash) was asked whether hokhmat yevanit refers to Aristotle’s Physics and Metaphysics. Although he forbids study of these works, Rivash argues that they are not prohibited as hokhmat yevanit:

ומה ששאלת: מה היא חכמת יונית אשר יתרחק האדם? ואם הם אותם ספרים המפורסמים בעולם כשמע טבעי, ומה שאחר הטבע? … נראה, שאין הספרים ההם בכלל גזרה זו, שאם מצד שהם כתובים בלשון יוני, הלשון לא נאסר, וכלם היו בקיאין בו… ואם מצד החכמה בעצמה, מהו זה שלעז להם הזקן ההוא? ולכן נ”ל, שחכמת יונית היא לדבר בלשון יוני בחידות ובלשון סתום, שלא יבינו אותו ההמון, רק אותם שלמדו והורגלו באותן החידות. דמיון מ”ש (בפרק כיצד מעברין נג:): אמהתא דבי רבי, כי הוו משתעון בלשון חכמה, אמרין הכי: עלת נקפ’ בכד ידאון נשריא לקיניהון. ור”ל שהכלי הקטן ששואבין בו היין מן החבית, מנקפת בשולי החבית, לפי שכבר כלה היין, ולכן שיעופו וילכו התלמידים למקומם… וחידות כאלו, כשנאמר בלשון יוני, נקראים חכמה יונית… אמנם, ספרי הטבע המפורסמים, לא מן השם הוא זה, אבל ראוי לימנע מהם, אם הם מתאמצים לעקור עקרי תורתינו הקדושה. ובפרט שני עמודי התווך אשר היא נכונה עליהם, שזהו, חדוש העולם, והשגחת השם יתברך בפרטי המין האנושי. והם מביאים ראיות ומופתים לפי דעתם לקיים קדמות העולם, ושהוא מחוייב מן השם יתברך, כמו שהאור מחוייב מן השמש, והצל מן האילן, ואין יכולת לשם יתברך לשנות דבר מטבעו, ולא להאריך כנף הזבוב, ולא לקצר רגל הנמלה; כמו שאין יכולת בשמש לשנות האור הנמשך ממנו, ולא האילן הצל. וכן, שהשגחת השם יתברך לא תהיה במה שהוא למטה מגלגל הירח. וכתבו בספריהם, שאין ידיעה שלמה רק אותה שהיא מצד החקיר’, לא מצד הקבלה. ואנחנו מקבלי האמת, דעתנו, שהתורה שלנו שלמה, שבאה אלינו במעמד הר סיני מפי הגבורה ובאמצעות אדון הנביאים ע”ה, היא למעלה מהכל, וכל חקירתם אפס ותהו לערכה.[8]

It is not hard to see the reason for this commentatorial consensus. The Talmudic account refers to an old man communicating with the enemy in hokhmat yevanit as the cause for this prohibition. It is hard to see how Greek philosophy could have served as an effective mode for secret communication.[9] But there is another reason to prefer this identification as well. The Talmud consistently refers to hokhmat yevanit, not to hokhmah yevanit. The latter should indeed be translated as “Greek wisdom”; the former, however, means instead “wisdom of Greek.” Here the word “Greek” is not an adjective describing the kind of wisdom, but a noun, meaning the Greek language. This nuance is reflected in the commentaries which understand hokhmat yevanit not as Greek wisdom but as a cryptic language based on Greek. If not from the traditional Talmudic commentators, where then does the identification of hokhmat yevanit with “Greek wisdom” come from? As far as I can tell, the first to identify “hokhmat yevanit” with Greek philosophy is R. Yehudah Halevi. In a well-known poem, Halevi warns a friend not to be seduced by hokhmat yevanit: ואל תשיאך חכמת יונית אשר אין לה פרי כי אם פרחים. ופריה – כי אדמה לא רקועה וכי לא אהלי שחק מתוחים. ואין ראשית לכל מעשה בראשית ואין אחרית לחדוש הירחים.[10] Halevi alludes to the Aristotelian doctrine of eternal matter, which he sees as flower without fruit, or appearance without substance. Were Halevi’s anti-Aristotelian poem the first source for this explanation, we would have reason to remain skeptical about its veracity. However, despite Halevi’s use of the term “hokhmat yevanit,” there is little reason to assume that Halevi really believes this is the meaning of these words in the Talmud. Using a poetic license, it would be hard for an anti-Aristotelian like Halevi to pass up the rhetorical opportunity granted by the Talmud’s curse on teaching hokhmat yevanit, which, even if not literally the same, at least provides a negative association for the accursed ‘Greek wisdom.’[11] Bernard Septimus notes what he views as use of this term by a twelfth century proponent of Aristotelian philosophy, Abraham ibn Daud.[12] In his Sefer ha-Qabbalah, ibn Daud describes the positive attributes of some of his predecessors:

והיה [האמורא, שמואל] חכם גדול בכל חכמה יונית מוסף על תורתו.[13] ומוסף על חכמתו ותורתו היה פייטן גדול ויודע בחכמה יונית ורבץ תורה הרבה והעמיד תלמידים הרבה.[14] היה רב ברוך זה יודע בחכמה יונית מוסף על תורתו וחכמתו והעמיד תלמידים הרבה ואני קטן שבכלם. [15] ר’ משה בר’ יעקב בן עזרא מזרע המשרה וחכם גדול בתורה ובחכמה יונית.[16]

However, in all these cases, ibn Daud refers not to hokhmat yevanit, which is the term used by the Talmud for the prohibited subject matter, but hokhmah yevanit, which indeed must mean “Greek wisdom.” As a proponent of Greek philosophy, it is hard to imagine ibn Daud would not have made this distinction. For if hokhmah yevanit is identical with the Talmud’s prohibited subject, ibn Daud, at very least has some explaining to do, which evidently he does not feel to be the case. Thus, instead of support for the theory that hokhmat yevanit refers to Greek philosophy, ibn Daud provides indirect support for the difference between “Greek wisdom”—hokhmah yevanit—and that which the Talmud calls hokhmat yevanit. If we are correct, we have yet to find the first usage of hokhmat yevanit to refer to Greek philosophy in an unambiguously literal sense. Interestingly, it seems that the first documented examples of this usage occur in rapid succession during the controversy over the study of Greek philosophy in the 1230s. R. Yehudah Alfakar, in his letter to R. David Kimhi in opposition to the pro-philosophic faction, refers to hokhmat yevanit a number of times:

ואינו כדאי מופת חכמת יונית לעקור את הכל שנאמר ובא האות והמופת וגו’ וכתוב בתריה לא תשמע אל דברי הנביא, ועוד שאפילו לדבריהם שהם מדברי סופרים ולא מפי ספרים, כי כל מופת שלם צריך עיון גדול עד מאד מפני שפעמים יתערב בו דבר מתעה מאותה חכמה שקרנית שנקרא בלשון יון סופיסטיק”ה ובהתחברות אליו יעשה מרמה ללכוד חכמים בערמה כגון שיהיה באות ובמופת או בהקדמות מהקדמותיו עד סוף כל העולם אחד מן המומים הפוסלין המחפפים משותפים או טענות מחופות מזוייפות צנומות דקות שדופות ונמצאים תולדותיהם כיוצא בהם שאינן משיחין לפי תומם כי זנתה אמם לפי דרכנו למדנו שהסומך על דבריהם בדברי תורתו לא יצא ידי חובתו וכל שכן לענין מופת הקדמות שהוא פוסל את השבת במומו… מפני שהיתה כונתו שלא לשנות מנהגו של עולם למען העמיד התורה עם חכמת היונית יחד לחבר את האהל להיות אחד ודימה היות הראשונה עם השניה כשתי עפרים תאמי צביה והיתה תאניה ואניה ולא נשא אותם הארץ לשבת יחדו להיות כשתי אחיות כי לא כנשים המצריות העבריות ופוסחים על שתי הסעיפים והם חושבים כי הם לכאן ולכאן והם באמת יורדים ואינם עולים אלא עומדים בתוך לנדה ביניהם לא אור התורה נגה עליהם ולא שם חכמה יונית נקרא בהם.[17]

According to Alfakar, all philosophy risks sophistry, and should therefore not be relied on for religious purposes. In light of Alfakar’s hostility toward ‘Greek wisdom,’ it is interesting that he does not refer directly to the Talmud’s prohibition. If this is out of respect for the “Andalusian tradition,” his fellow Spanish anti-Maimonidean, R. Joseph ben Todros Abulafia, feels no such constraint:

והנה איך יתחמץ לב אדם על רבותינו הצרפתים וכליותיו ישתוק אשר גזרו לבל ילחם אדם בלחם חכמי יונים בצלם אל יתלונן דהא ודאי קדמום רבנן ואסור ללחום בלחמם שחטיהם שחטי מנית(?) [מינות?] ואמרו ארור המלמד בנו חכמה יונית והנה גם מלכי הערב בתחלת מלכותם חכמו השכילו זאת הבינו לאחריתם ושמו בראשית חקיהם ודתם לבל יהגה אדם בכל חכמת ההגיון ובכל חכמות יונים מפני שבדבריהם דברי מינים, ואתם בעקבות חכמי הקבלה לא יצאתם וכמשפטי הגוים אשר סביבותיכם לא עשיתם, ואם לחשך אדם לומר דע מה שתשיב את אפיקורס: לקומם חרבות האמונה יאמרו, לא להרוס, כי תשובת חכמי היונים הם האפיקורסים הם המינים, ודבריהם הם נכוחות למשמע אזנים ולחפצים לפרוק מעליהם עול מלכות שמים ודבריהם קרובים להבין ואזני הפתאים קשובות להאזין אם ימתק בפיהם ענינם יכחידו תחת לשונם, ואף אם ישמעו עליהם דברי רבנו בספר המורה בתשובות נצחות ולשון מדברת צחות קרובים דבריו בפיהם ורחוקים מכליותיהם.[18]

Unsurprisingly, this position was also taken by an Ashkenazi polemic at the time of the controversy: כל גאוני צרפת ואשכנז אשר לא שתו לבם לשעות בדברי שוא ולעזוב מקור חיים הלכות ואגדות לעסוק בחכמה יונית אשר אסרו חכמים ללמד את בנו חכמה יונית[19]

This term occurs again in the controversy of the 1230s in the conciliatory letter of Nahmanides to the French rabbis:

הביטו וראו היש מכאוב כמכאובינו, כי גלו בנים מעל שלחן אביהם ויתגאלו בפת בג המלך וביין משתיהם ויתערבו בגויים וילמדו ממעשיהם אף כי חרב השמד אשר בעוונותינו שרד בגלות ירושלים אשר בספרד והותר לקרובי מלכות ללמוד חכמת יוונית להבין במלאכת הרפואות לשער כל מדה ולדעת כל תבנית ויתר החכמות ותחבולותם להחיות נפשם בחצרות המלכים ובטירותם אף כי אלה חכמות מותרות [ו]רבותינו ז”ל הזהירונו בהם וצוונו עליהם וכאשר אבדו ספרי חכמותנו באבדן מולדתנו והוצרכ[נ]ו ללמד בהם מספרי היונים והעמים שונים נמשכו הלבבות אחר המינות התחילו בשבח וסיימו בגנות[20]

Nahmanides argues that the Ashkenazi rabbis must recognize the plight of Spanish Jewry, who in her exile was contaminated. In this context, he makes use of the Talmud’s leniency for kerovim la-malkhut to study hokhmat yevanit—clearly this does not refer to the coded language of earlier commentators, but Nahmanides’ exact position regarding Greek wisdom here remains somewhat unclear. The fact that the interpretation of hokhmat yevanit as Greek philosophy first arose in the controversy over the legitimacy of the study of this subject, by the opponents of such study, should alert us to the possibility that this is not the original intent of the Talmudic passage. Yet to participants in the controversy, even to the proponents of philosophy, this point was not so obvious. R. Yaakov Anatoli, author of the philosophical Malmad ha-Talmidim addresses the question of “foreign study” in the introduction to his work:

גם אם אחד בדור ימלאנו לבו ללמוד החכמות הנמצאות בלשון אחרת המועילות להשלים כונת התורה, יחשב הלמוד ההוא לעון אצל רוב בני דורו. ונותנים טעם לדבריהם ממה שאמרו רז”ל: מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון וכן ממה שהזהירו שלא ללמוד חכמת יונית. ואין ספק למי שבוחן שאר דבריהם שאותה המניעה אינה כוללת אבל היא לנערים וכיוצא בם, לפי שהחכמה ההיא אם לא יקדים לה למוד התורה ותלמודה ובלבד שיהא הלומד ההוא איש נעים ובעל מדות טובות הנכללות ביראת שמים היא בלא ספק גורמת להוציא האדם מן הכלל. לפי שהחכמה ההיא עמוקה מאד וכל ראיותיה משקול הדעות ומעט הם הראויים לה, כי היא צריכה אנשי לב נבונים ירא אלהים יודעי התורה ותלמודה, והם שנכנסים לפרדס בשלום ויוצאים בשלום לפי שמטים ספיקותיהם אחר האמת המקובלת אצלם מצד התורה הנטועה בלבם אבל חסר לב יקצץ נטיעות לפי המבוכה היוצאת לו בקצת ענינים ומקשים לבם ומגלים פנים בתורה ומטים הספיקות אחרי יצרם ושרירות לבם ולפיכך היתה המניעה ראויה אל הרוב. [21]

Anatoli accepts the anti-philosophic definition of hokhmat yevanit, but argues that anyone familiar with the corpus of Hazal must recognize that this prohibition cannot be construed as a blanket prohibition, but as a limitation on those who are unprepared. Likewise, R. Samuel b. Abraham Saporta, a defender of the philosophic camp, does not reject this interpretation of hokhmat yevanit but rather argues that the prohibition could not have been based on heretical content, because then the dispensation for kerovei malkhut would be incomprehensible:

והנה אפילו לאומרים שהחכמות האלה הן החכמה היונית, לא גזרו עליהם מפני שישי בה מינית, אלא מפני מעשה שהיה כאשר הוא מפורש באותה שאמרו ארור אדם שיגדל חזירים וארור שילמד את בנו חכמה יונית, והרי חכמה יונית הותרה לקרובי מלכות ואם היה בה שמץ מינות אפילו להבין ולהורות נאסר ללמדה, כמו שאמרו הלמד דבר אחד מן המכשף מן המגושי חייב מיתה, ואלו הם לא התירוה לקרובי מלכות ומצינו למדין שהחכמה היונית לא נאסרה מפני צד מינות.[22]

Although the “philosophical” interpretation of hokhmat yevanit was born during the first Maimonidean controversy, it did not die with the controversy’s end. The Spanish kabbalist Abraham Abulafia, active during the second half of the thirteenth century, uses this definition in a discussion of the relationship between divine, revealed wisdom and “human” wisdom, including mathematics, logic and dialectics:

ועל דרך האמת אשר אין בה ספק למי שחננו חונן הדעת מדע והשכל, כי החכמה העליונה האלהית התוריית אינה חכמה היוונית הנקרא לימודית ושמה בלשון יון מתימתיק”א, ולא החכמה אשר שמה הגיון ובלשון יון דיאליטיק”א וגם לוגיק”א, שעל החכמה ההיא אמרו מקבלי האמת מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון. [ור’ שמואל בן תיבון ז”ל אמר עליו פירושים זרים מהאמת, שאמר כי על כן אמרו מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון] ולא עצמכם, כלומר שבניכם אינם יכולים לקבל החכמה. ולפי דעתי מהחכמה האלהית, דבר נראה בעיניי פירושו מעולה מאד ואין ספק כי הוא טעם טוב לבעלי ההגיון אבל לא לנו, שכבר ידענו באמת עיקר המאמר הנכבד הנבואי ההוא, והוא בלא ספק שהזהירונו חכמי האמת מהשתדל בחכמות היווניות ההן, מפני שאנחנו עם הקודש עם יי’, יש לנו תורה קדושה מורה אמיתת שתי החכמות אשר הם מקדימים החכמה הלימודית להן כדי לאמתן במופתים לפי סברת שכלם, כי לא השיגו מה שראוי להשיג עד שידעו אמיתתן מבלי הקדמת ספריהם. ובאמת כי הם עשו דבר גדול במה שעשו, ולפי מה שקראתיו אני מספריהם ראיתיו שהשיגו דברים רבים שמספיק להשגתם כח השכל האנושי, אבל בדברים שהוצרכו אל השכל האלהי לאמתם, לא השיגו להם עניין כלל, ועל כן טעו ברובם כמו שנודע מספריהם. ושתי החכמות ההן הן חכמת הטבע וחכמת האלהות, שהן כוללות כל עצמות המציאות ונקראו בלשוננו מעשה בראשית ומעשה מרכבה. וההבדל אשר בינינו לבינם שאנחנו קראנום בשמות מורים חידוש מעשים נבראים בכוונה וראשון, והם קראום בשמות מורים קדמות מעשים נמצאים בחכמה תמידית בלתי כוונה רצונית, ודעתם הפך מדעתנו בלא ספק… אבל אין ספק אצלנו אנחנו בעלי התורה אשר קבלנו ממנה הקבלות האלהיות, שהתורה השלמה היא מגדת לנו כל מה שסופק להם.[23]

Abulafia recognizes the achievements of human reason, but denies their necessity for a people possessed of divine revelation. Abulafia also accepts the Maimonidean definition of ma’aseh bereishit and ma’aseh merkavah as hokhmat ha-teva’ and hokhmat ha-elohut—but says the terminological distinction between the Greeks and the Hebrews points to their essential difference, namely creation vs. eternity. This fundamental difference is based on the power of revelation to solve the doubts which philosophy cannot resolve. In contrast to the opponents of philosophy, for Abulafia, the Torah and Greek wisdom have a hierarchical relationship. The results of philosophical inquiry are valuable, but incomplete. R. Abba Mari ha-Yarhi, the primary instigator of the “Maimonidean controversy” of 1303-1305, took a position similar to Abulafia’s. In his Minhat Kena’ot, R. Abba Mari defends Aristotle for his belief in eternity of the universe:

על כן אני אומר על ארסטו כי עינו הטעתו בראותו עולם כמנהגו נוהג גזר ואמר כי כל חלוף דבר מטבע נמנע והביא ראיות על הקדמות ואין לענשו על כך כי אין זה מכלל ז’ מצות שנצטוו בני נח אך על זה יזכר לטוב כי הביא ראיות על מציאת האל יתברך ואחדותו והיותו בלתי גשם ולא ישיגהו הפעלות ושינוי ובזה הלך אחרי עקבות אברהם ע”ה שהיה תחלה לגרים, וכן נמצא כתוב בספר התפוח כי הוא תשתדל לבטל הדעות הנפסדות כמו שעשה אברהם ראש לפלסופים אשר בטל עבודת שמש וירח בחרן ע”כ.[24]

According to R. Abba Mari, Aristotle cannot be faulted for his belief in the eternity of the world, because after all, that is not one of the seven Noahide commandments.[25] Instead, Aristotle should be credited for following in the footsteps of Abraham, a view supported by Aristotle’s own alleged recognition of Abraham as the father of philosophy. At the same time, R. Abba Mari expresses his deep ambivalence about philosophy as a legitimate enterprise for Jews:

באמת ובברור בקושי גדול ובהכרח התירו ללמוד מספרי החכמות, ואפי’ לשבח המאמרים שלהם אע”פ שאין בהם דבר רע כלל… וארז”ל בספרי: ודברת בם, עשה אותן עיקר ואל תעשהם טפלה, שלא יהיה משאך ומתנך אלא בהם, שלא תערב בהם דברים אחרים, שמא תאמר למדתי חכמת ישראל אלך ואלמד חכמת האומות, ת”ל ללכת בם ולא להפטר מתוכם, וגרסינן במנחת פ’ שתי הלחם, שאל בן דמא בן אחותו של ר’ ישמעאל את ר’ ישמעאל אני שלמדתי כל התורה מהו שאלמוד חכמת יונית? קרא עליו המקרא הזה, לא ימוש ספר התורה הזה מפיך והגית בו יומם ולילה, צא ובדוק שעה שאינה לא מן היום ולא מן הלילה. ולאותם שהם קרובים למלכות, התירו להם ללמוד חכמת יונית מפני שהם קרובים למלכות.[26]

R. Abba Mari’s ambivalence about philosophy, together with his respect and admiration for Maimonides himself, mark the contrast between this episode of the Maimonidean controversy and its previous outbreak in the 1230s. This time, the debate was not over the legitimacy of Maimonides, but over the true legacy of Maimonides.[27] R. Abba Mari, like Abulafia, did not deny the efficacy of philosophy but argued that the Jewish people, in possession of revelation, were not in need of its benefits. Another participant in the controversy, R. Menahem ha-Meiri, a moderate Maimonidean, took two opposing views of hokhmat yevanit in his Talmudic commentaries. In his commentary on Hagigah, Meiri takes the traditional view of hokhmat yevanit as a secret language:

בית הבחירה (חגיגה ז.): יש דברים שאין להם מן התורה שיעור למטה וחכמים נתנו שיעור בקצתן וכלן יש בהוספתן מצוה עד שאין להם ג”כ שיעור למעלה ואלו הן … ותלמוד תורה שלמטה אף בקריאת שמע שחרית וערבית קיים והגית בו יומם ולילה ואין צריך לומר שאין לה שיעור למעלה ואמרו עליה בתלמוד המערב שאלו לר’ יהושע מהו ללמד את בנו חכמה יונית אמר להם כתיב והגית בו יומם ולילה צא וראה אי זו שעה שאינה לא מן היום ולא מן הלילה, כלו’ ואך אפשר בכך? מעתה יהא אסור ללמדו אומנות, והא תני ר’ ישמעאל ובחרת בחיים זו אומנות, א”ר יוחנן מפני המסורות. ופירשוה חכמי נארבונאה שלא אסרה ר’ יהושע אלא מפני המסורות שלא יהו בקיאים בה וכמו שאמרו בפרק מרבה (פ”ב ע”ב) על אותו זקן שלעז להם בלשון יוני ולמדו מכאן שחכמת רמיזה בלבד הוא שאסרו. ושנו עוד שם ר’ אבהו בשם ר’ יוחנן מותר ללמד את בתו תורה מפני שתכשיט הוא. שמע שמעון ברבא אמר בגין דו בעי מילפא לבנתיה תלי ליה בר’ יוחנן, יהא עלי אם שמעה מר’ יוחנן.[28]

However, in his commentary to Bava Kama (82b), Meiri adopts the newer view of hokhmat yevanit as philosophy, while giving a new interpretation to the scope of the prohibition:

לשון יוני כבר בארנו במגלה שהוא ממאושרים שבלשונות ומ”מ חכמה שלהם אסור ללמדה מפני שמושכת לבו של אדם והורסת הרבה מפנות הדת וקרובי מלכות שלהם מצד שהם צריכים בה לכמה דברים בתכסיסי מלכיהם שהיו נמשכים אחר חקירת החכמה עד להרבה ולא היו מקרבים כל כך אלא מי שהוא שלם בחכמות ודעתו צלולה בכל הדברים הותר להם ללמדה ואף החכמים השלמים שכבר מלאו כרסם בשר ויין ר”ל התורה ותלמודה וסודות מצותיה אין לך קרובים למלכות יותר מהם והרי נאמר בי מלכים ימלוכו ומותר להם ללמדה כדי להשיב עליהם ולחזק ענין הדת במסמרים לא ימוט.

Perhaps this second interpretation, in which Meiri abandons the tradition of Talmudic commentators in favor of the “polemical” view, reflects Meiri’s newfound awareness of the dangers of unrestricted philosophic engagement. Not all the opponents of philosophy in this wave of the controversy shared R. Abba Mari’s moderate position. R. Asher b. Yehiel, the great Ashkenazi Talmudist who left his native Germany in 1303, arriving in Spain via Provence in 1305, only reluctantly supported the Rashba’s ban on philosophy—because it did not go far enough. According to the ban, philosophy was only forbidden until the age of twenty five, but according to R. Asher, alluding to the Talmudic passage in Menahot, it is never permitted: ועוד כי החרימו על דת משה דכתיב והגית בו יומם ולילה, ולאותה חכמה צריך שעה שאינה לא מן היום ולא מן הלילה.[29] ,[30] Yisrael Ta Shma pointed to another dispute in which R. Asher argued against philosophy, this time against using “philosophical reasoning” in determining halakha. R. Yisrael b. Yosef ha-Yisraeli, a member of R. Asher’s beit din, argued that in a case of communal decrees, questions must be decided not on the basis of Talmudic knowledge, but by possession of sound logic and knowledge of the literary Arabic in which the decrees were composed:

מאחר שהכל מודים שיש לנו להתנהג בירושת האשה על פי תקנת הנישואין, ואין חולק בדבר הזה, מעתה אין לנו עסק בדין זה עם הגמרא כלל, ואין ראוי שיפסוק אלא מי שיש בו שני הדברים הללו, האחד שיהיה בעל סברא נכונה, והשני שיהיה בקי בלשון ערב האמיתית, וכשיהיה בתכלית השלימות בשנים הללו, ראוי לסמוך עליו ולעשות על פיו, ואפילו אם יבא רב אשי ויחלוק עליו אין שומעין לו.

This position earned the fierce denunciation of R. Asher:

הצעה הראשונה שכתבת שאין ראוי שיפסוק דין זה אלא מי שיש בו שני דברים הללו, שיהיה בעל סברא נכונה… תהלה לאל חנני אלקים ויש לי כל בסברא אמיתית של תורת משה רבינו ע”ה ככל חכמי ספרד הנמצאים בימים האלה, ואע”פ שלא ידעתי מחכמה החיצונית שלכם בריך רחמנא דשיזבן מינה כי בא האות והמופת להדיח האדם מיראת השם ותורתו… ועל שכתבת מגזרת השכל וגזרת הדת, מה אשיב על זה, לא תהא תורה שלנו כשיחה בטילה שלכם, חכמת הגיונכם אשר הרחיקו כל חכמי הדת נביא ממנה לחייב ולזכות, לאסור ולהתיר, והלא חוצבי מקורה לא האמינו במשה ובמשפטים ובחוקים צדיקים אשר נתנו על ידו בכתב ובקבלה, ואיך שואבי מימיה יביאו ראיה מהם לחוקים ומשפטים של משה רבינו עליו השלום ולפסוק דינין במשלים שהורגלו בהם בחכמת הגיונם? האף אין זאת וכי בימי ובמקומי יפסקו הדינין על פי המשלים, ת”ל בעודי חי עוד יש תורה בישראל להביא ראיה מהמשנה וגמרא, בבלית וירושלמית, ולא יצטרכו להביא משלים לפסקי הדינים, כי חכמת הפילוסופיא וחכמת התורה והמשפטים אינן על דרך אחת, כי חכמת התורה היא קבלה למשה מסיני, והחכם ידרוש בה במדות שנתנה לידרש בהם ומדמה מילתא למילתא, אע”פ שאין הדברים נמשכים אחר חכמת הטבע אנו הולכין על פי הקבלה. אבל חכמת הפילוסופיא היא טבעית וחכמים גדולים היו והעמידו כל דבר על טבעו ומרוב חכמתם העמיקו שחתו והוצרכו לכפור בתורת משה לפי שאין כל התורה טבעית אלא קבלה… ועל זה אמר החכם כל באיה לא ישובון, רוצה לומר כל הבא ונכנס מתחלה בחכמה זו לא יוכל לצאת ממנה להכנס בלבו חכמת התורה, כי לא יוכל לשוב מחכמה טבעית שהורגל בה כי לבו תמיד נמשך אחריה. ומחמת זה לא ישיג לעמוד על חכמת התורה שהיא ארחות חיים כי יהיה לבו תמיד על חכמת הטבע ותעלה ברוחו להשוות שתי החכמות יחד ולהביא ראיה מזו לזו ומתוך זה יעוות המשפט כי שני הפכים הם צרות זו לזו ולא ישכנו במקום אחד.[31]

The ideological background of this dispute becomes clearer when we keep in mind R. Asher’s position on philosophy in general, and compare it to that of R. Yisrael:

ראוי לאדם להקדים תחילה לימוד התורה והתלמוד והלכותיו ולהגות בו ולדקדק עד אשר ישקע בלבו וידע כלליו ופרטיו ודיניו ומשפטיו ואח”כ ילמוד החכמות החיצוניות כדי לדעת תשובות הטועים וינצחם וטענותיהם. ולכן אחז”ל, “מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון” (ברכות כח ע”ב) ולא אמרו מנעו עצמכם, לפי שהבנים לא ריוו צמאון שכלם בתורה ובתלמוד, ואם ילמדו מיד ההגיון, והוא ההקדמה ללימוד שאר החכמות, אולי ישתבשו בסברתם ויצאו מהרה מן הכלל בר מינן, וכן אמרו ארור המלמד את בנו חכמה יוונית, ולא אמרו ארור שילמוד חכמה יוונית… לא הזכירו רק את בנו.[32]

R. Yisrael adopts the position of Shmuel ibn Tibbon, and R. Asher does not take kindly to that position.[33] A new argument against the identification of hokhmat yevanit with philosophy appears in the work of R. Levi b. Avraham, a prime target of the anti-philosophy camp in the controversy of 1303-1305. In a recently published section of his work Livyat hen, R. Levi distinguishes between two forms of hokhmat yevanit, one which is forbidden because it falls under the prohibition of hukkot ha-emori, and another form which is forbidden because it is a waste of time:

יודע לך כי חכמה יוונית הם שני מינין: המין האחד הוא ספרי דתם ונימוסיהם שהם כחקות האמורי, וזה אסור להתעסק בו… המין השני סיפורי מלכיהם ודברי הימים, בכלל זה ההתמדה במלאכת השיר, בהשתמשו בו בדברים דלים פחותים… וזה המין אין בו איסור אבל כליון הזמן, וכן הענין בספר בן סירא, ועל זה שנינו במסכת מנחות פר’ שתי הלחם: שאל בן דמה בן אחותו של ר’ ישמעאל את ר’ ישמעאל כגון אני שלמדתי כל התורה מהו שאלמד חכמה יוונית, קרא עליו מקרא הזה והגית בו יומם ולילה… כלומ’ כי ראוי לעסוק תמיד בתורה ובחכמה שהיא בכלל התורה… אבל לא דיברו בספרי החכמה שחיברו הפילוסופים האמתיים כסוקראט ואפלטון וארסטו ודומיה’, כי חדשים היו בימים ההם ועדיין לא התפשטו בכל, כי זה המין מן החכמה היה מצוי בין חכמי ישראל בספרים עבריים מיוחדים לזה, וכל חכמה מפוארת לא היו מייחסים רק [=אלא] לישראל, כמו שאמ’ כי היא חכמתכם ובינתכם. וצווי למנוע דברים אלה מן הילדים, גם מן ההגיון שהוא התחלה לשאר החכמות, להיותם דברים מושכים את הלב, ויהיה זה גורם להם לעזוב הקבלה, ועוד כי לתגבורת החומר בהם יטו אל דעת הכופרים דשאני מינות דמשכח [צ”ל דמשכה—א.ק.]…[34]

R. Levi objects to the classification of the philosophy known to us by means of Socrates, Plato and Aristotle as “Greek wisdom” because the sages would not have attributed such wisdom to the Greeks, but “only” to the Jews, from whom this wisdom was lost. The same argument is presented by R. David ha-Kokhavi, a Provencal Maimonidean and halakhist, in his Sefer ha-batim:

כבר כתבנו בהקדמתנו בחלק השני כי ראיות רבות יש מדברי התורה והנביאים ומאמרי רבותינו שידיעת ה’ על דרך האמת בראיות מופתיות הוא העקר, אשר ההתחלה הצריכה לזה היא מלאכת ההגיון, כדי לדעת דרכי ההקש ועשיית המופת ועניני הנצוח ההטעאה. ומה שטענו החולקים על זה בקצת הענות מדברי רבותינו, אחת מהם אמרם כי רבותינו אסרו להתעסק במלאכה הזאת והביא ראיה מאמרם מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון והושיבום בין ברכי החכמים, וכן אמרו שאסרו חכמה יונית, ואומרים כי “חכמת הטבע” והאלקות היא המיוחסת לחכמה יונית ואסורה. נאמר כי מה שאמרו רבותינו מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון בארוהו קצת מהמפרשים שלא נאמר על מה שאנו קורין היום “הגיון” שהוא כלי לחכמות, אך כוונו אל דרכי חידות הדיבור אין תועלת בו, והוא מפעל הבטלה כמו שבאר הר”ם בחכמה יונית כמו שאבאר… ומה שאמרנו [צ”ל: שאמרו] שהחכמה יונית היא חכמת הטבע והאלוקות, הנה הם רחוקים מכוונתנו. כי ידוע הוא כמו שהורנו הר”מ מורה צדק שמעשה בראשית ומעשה מרכבה הם חכמת הטבע והאלקות, וחכמה זו איננה יונית, וחלילה שתתיחס רק [=אלא] לזרע קדש והיא חכמת משה והנביאים והמדברים ברוח הקודש, וזה יתבאר לאשר יתן לו ה’ לב לדעת דברי תורה והנביאים.[35]

Both of these Provencal Maimonideans object to describing Greek philosophy as Greek, when it should properly be described instead as Jewish. Abraham Bibago, in his Derekh Emunah, gives this argument a universalist twist. Hokhmat yevanit cannot refer to philosophical speculation, because such inquiry belongs no more to one nation than another—it is the property of mankind as a whole:

ולהתיר הספקות נאמר כי החכמה היונית איננה חכמת החקירה המופתית הנאמרת, כי חכמת החקירה היא חכמה שכלית והיא לאדם במה שהוא אדם, אם כן היא חכמה אנושית לא חכמה יונית, והחכמה הנקראת חכמה יונית היא דבר מיוחד לאומת יון לא לאומה אחרת. וכבר נודעה חכמת שלמה ע”ה שקובל ממנו היות אלו החכמות באות מספריו, כי נאבדו לאורך הזמנים, ונעתקו ללשונות האומות הזרות, אם כן אלו החכמות הן הנה חכמות אנושיות לא חכמות יוניות… ולמה שהוא מצד צורתו הכוללת שהוא בה אדם, יהיה בעל שכל וישכיל וישלם בהשכלה, הנה ראוי לו ומחוייב ללמוד החכמה, כי בה יהיה אדם ויבדל מיתר בעלי חיים היותר חסרים ממנו…

For Bibago, the tradition of the Solomonic origins of philosophy proves that philosophy belongs neither to the Greeks nor to the Jews, but to mankind. R. Meir ibn Gabbai, the post-expulsion Spanish kabbalist, uses Bibago’s argument about the universality of philosophy as its own undoing. If philosophy is as universal as Bibago suggested, as no doubt it is, it cannot be the same as Solomon’s wisdom:

הפלוסופיא, והיא הנקראת חכמה יונית לרז”ל, ונתיחסה ליונים לפי שמהם יצאה והם המציאוה בעולם ובדוה מלבם, לפי שנתנו דעתם לחקור על הנמצאות ולשקלם בשקל שכלם ונקראת בלשון פלוסופי בני עמנו חכמת הנמצאות, לפי שהתחכמו בהן לפי דעתם, ובלשון יון פלוסופיא, היא אסורה לכל אשר בשם ישראל יכנה, ואיסורה מבואר ממה שאמרו בסוטה פרק עגלה ערופה, ובקמא פרק מרובה, אמרו שם בזה הלשון תנו רבנן כשצרו בית חשמונאי זה על זה, היה הורקנוס מבפנים ואריסטובלוס מבחוץ, ובכל יום ויום היו משלשלים להם בקופה דינרין, והיו מעלים להם תמידים, היה שם זקן אחד שהיה מכיר בחכמה יונית, אמר להם כל זמן שעוסקין בעבודה אין נמסרים בידכם, למחר שלשלו דינרין בקופה והעלו להם שועל, כיון שהגיע לחצי החומה נעץ צפרניו בחומה, נזדעזעה ארץ ישראל ארבע מאות פרסה על ארבע מאות פרסה. באותה שעה אמרו אסור לאיש מישראל שיגדל שועלים, (!) וארור האדם שילמד את בנו חכמה יונית… והחכם ר’ אברהם ביבאגי’ ז”ל יצא לישע הפלוסופיא והליץ בעדה והתירה לבא בקהל, ולהרים מכשול מדרך עם הקדש אביא דבריו בזה בקצרה, ואם הוא האריך והשיב עליהם ואשוב להוכיח כי הפלוסופיא והיא החכמה העיונית המופתית, אסורה לבא בקהל וגזרת רז”ל היתה עליה בייחוד… וכבר הארכתי בזה בפרק י”ו מהחלק הב’ מזה הספר בסייעתא דשמיא יבוקש משם, כי הוא פלא וחלילה שתיוחס החכמה השכלית לישראל, אבל היא חלק שאר האומות להיותה אנושית, ולזה נמצאו באומות חכמים ונבונים בה יותר ויותר הרבה ממה שנמצאו בישראל, בזמן שנתפתו אחריה גדולי פלוסופי בני עמנו, אבל חכמת ישראל פנימית אלהית מקובלת מפי הגבורה לא זכו בה האומות, וכמו שכתוב מגיד דבריו ליעקב וגו’ לא עשה כן לכל גוי, וחכמת שלמה ע”ה אלהית נתונה לו במתנה שנאמר ויי’ נתן חכמה לשלמה ומעולם לא יצא חוץ לאומה והיא מיוחדת לישראל, ומעולם לא זכו בה שום אומה ולשון, ואלו היתה שכלית אנושית היתה שוה לכל… ויראת יי’ היא חכמת האלהות שהיודעה הן הוא ירא הש”י וכו’, אמת כי היודע חכמת האלהות ירא את יי’ ואוהבו, אבל אינה החכמה שבדא היוני מלבו לאלהות כי לא השיג האמת ואיך איפשר שתמשך היראה ממנה.[36]

Ibn Gabbai was preceded in this argument by R. Shem Tov b. Shem Tov, who objected to the identification of ma’aseh bereishit and ma’aseh merkavah with physics and metaphysics because, “If that were so then these mysteries are available to all, to the pure and the impure, to the believer and the heretic, to the Canaanite, Hittite, Amonite and Moabite.”[37] Whereas R. Levi b. Abraham and R. David ha-Kokhavi are indignant at the thought that philosophical wisdom should be ascribed to the Greeks and not to the Jews, ibn Gabbai and Shem Tov are equally horrified that such universal wisdom be ascribed to the Jews. Ibn Gabbai (unlike Shem Tov) also rejects the notion of the Jewish roots of philosophy, so favored by proponents of philosophy. Philosophy as a discipline is properly named “Greek wisdom” because it is an invention of the Greeks. The true wisdom of Solomon is not the product of the Socratic method, but of divine revelation. Warren Harvey has noted that for medieval Jewish Aristotelians, Aristotle is simply “ha-filosof,” which means not merely that he is the Philosopher, but that his identity transcends the bounds of nationality and religion such that he needs no accompanying description. In contrast, anti-Aristotelians such as Halevi, Nahmanides and Crescas refer to Aristotle as “ha-yevani”—he is not a universal figure who escaped the bounds of his culture and place, he is a Greek, and his philosophy is not universal, it is Greek. [38]What is implicit in one’s choice of titles for Aristotle becomes explicit when it comes to classifying his philosophy. Bibago, foreshadowed by his Provencal predecessors, disputed the “Greekness” of philosophy. Ibn Gabbai, on the other hand, argued that the Greekness of philosophy is inseparable from its essence. [39] In the twentieth century, the argument that “Greek wisdom” is universal wisdom was challenged as itself being based on Greek premises. Philosophy following Plato seeks to move from the world of matter to the world of forms, to discover the universal essence which lies behind the particular instance. This underlies the idea that Greek philosophy expresses universal truth. However, there is a paradox in the idea that Greek philosophy represents universal wisdom. For the Greeks, the only things worthy of consideration is the unchanging essence, because only that is universal—but the idea that only universals are worthy of consideration is particularly Greek. Instead of the opposition of faith and reason, the philosopher Horace Kallen argued that the source of the ancient dichotomy between Athens and Jerusalem, or between Hebraism and Hellenism, is their respective interpretations of existence. For the Greek, the world represents “structure, harmony, order immutable, eternal; for the Hebrew, flux, mutation, imminence, disorder… In a word, for the Greeks, change is unreal and evil; for the Hebrews the essence of reality is change.”[40] William Barrett likewise contrasts Hebraism and Hellenism, where the “Hebraic” viewpoint is a precursor for existentialist philosophy’s shift of perspective to the individual: Hebraism does not raise its eyes to the universal and abstract; its vision is always of the concrete, particular, individual man. The Greeks, on the other hand, were the first thinkers in history; they discovered the universal, the abstract and timeless essences, forms, and Ideas… [For the Greeks,] the ‘really real’ objects in the universe, ta ontos onta, are the universals or Ideas. Particular things are half real and half unreal—real only insofar as they participate in the eternal universals. The universal is fully real because it is eternal; the fleeting and changing particular has only a shadowy kind of reality because it passes and is then as if it had never been. Humanity, the universal, is more real than any individual man.”[41] With this backdrop, we can now answer the following question: If the evidence for hokhmat yevanit as Greek philosophy is so weak, how did the anti-philosophy interpretation become so prevalent? The answer, in part, is because of the rationalists’ rejection of the dichotomy between Athens and Jerusalem. For them, the project of reconciling philosophy and Judaism was one of recovery, of reinstituting the lost Jewish tradition of philosophy. For the medieval rationalists, the content of Jewish revelation had to be understood in light of Greek reason. It was the anti-rationalists who challenged this identification. Of course, in the history of Western thought, the anti-rationalists won this argument, and the dichotomy of Athens and Jerusalem or Hebraism and Hellenism became firmly entrenched. To the eyes of history, there was no question—the anti-rationalists won the argument about the opposition between Athens and Jerusalem. This “victory” explains the readiness of modern authors to accept the anti-rationalist interpretation of hokhmat yevanit as Greek philosophy, despite the lack of evidence for this conclusion. The broad interpretation of hokhmat yevanit aligns perfectly with the Athens-Jerusalem dichotomy so well-ingrained for moderns. In fact, however, this interpretation which was created during the controversies over philosophy in the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, subsequently waned. Forged as a polemical weapon, it is withdrawn again only by authors like R. Shem Tov b. Shem Tov and R. Meir ibn Gabbai for whom philosophy is an enemy to be combated by all means. [42]

 

[1] The typical position is concisely summarized by David Berger, “Judaism and General Culture in Medieval and Early Modern Times,” in Judaism’s Encounter with Other Cultures: Rejection or Integration, ed. Jacob J. Schacter (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1997), p. 92: “The rationalists were clearly uncomfortable with the Talmudic prohibition of ‘Greek wisdom’ and we find efforts at redefinition that limit the meaning of the term to a kind of coded language that has not survived and that therefore poses no limitation whatever to the philosopher’s intellectual agenda.” See further for some additional examples of this view, which prevalent in most of the recent discussion of this topic.
[2] Gerald Blidstein, “Rabbinic Judaism and General Culture: Normative Discussion and Attitudes,” in Judaism’s Encounter with Other Cultures, p. 9.
[3] Louis H. Feldman, Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered (Brill, 2006), pp. 22-23. Cf. Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World: Attitudes and Interactions from Alexander to Justinian (Princeton University Press, 1996), p. 467 n. 82.
[4] Noah J. Efron, Judaism and Science: A Historical Introduction (Westport, CT and London: Greenwood Press, 2007), p. 44. See also R. Isaac Herzog, Judaism: Law and Ethics (London, 1974), pp. 183-191, who accepts a definition of hokhmat yevanit that includes Greek philosophy.
[5] David Shatz, “The Biblical and Rabbinic Background to Medieval Jewish Philosophy,” The Cambridge Companion to Medieval Jewish Philosophy (Cambridge University Press, 2003), p. 29. Interestingly, Saul Lieberman, in his frequently referenced article “The Alleged Ban on Greek Wisdom,” Hellenism in Jewish Palestine, (New York, 1962) remains agnostic as to the definition of what he calls “Greek Wisdom”—see p. 105 and n. 35. See also W.Z. Harvey, “Rabbinic Attitudes Toward Philosophy,” in Blumberg et al., eds., “Open Thou Mine Eyes”: Essays on Aggadah and Judaica Presented to Rabbi William G. Braude (Ktav, 1992), p. 89. According to Harvey, “it would be an exaggeration to say that the Rabbis considered philosophy to be subversive. However, they certainly did have an ambivalent attitude toward what they called ‘Greek Wisdom,’ whatever this cryptic term means.”
[6] Isadore Twersky refers to Maimonides’ “special definition” which “helps clear the way for his exaltation of philosophy” (Introduction to the Code of Maimonides, p. 366 n. 25; cf. Twersky, Halakha ve-hagut: kavei yesod be-mishnato shel ha-rambam, pp. 91-92). Others are less charitable: Adolphe Franck, referring to Maimonides’ interpretation, says, “This opinion is utterly ridiculous, and does not deserve further consideration” (Franck, The Kabbalah: The Religious Philosophy of the Hebrews [New York, 1926], p. 230).
[7] This view is also cited by R. Isaac’s brother, R. Samson of Sens, in his Tosafot to the same passage: תוספות הר”ש (בשיטת הקדמונים) עבודה זרה דף י’ ע”א: וי”מ דכתב ולשון דהכא היינו כתב ולשון של מלכות שמשתמשין בו המלכים כעין חכמת יונית דסוף מרובה.
[8] שו”ת הריב”ש סימן מה
[9] This point has been noted by the one recent author I have seen who accepts this definition of hokhmat yevanit: “We are at first sight on familiar terrain: to us, Greek wisdom evokes the founding figures of Western philosophy, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. However these philosophers are nowhere mentioned in rabbinic writings; it is clear that the rabbis’ awareness of Greek philosophy must have differed considerably from ours. Moreover, it is unlikely that ‘Greek wisdom’ refers… to philosophy, for the phrase ‘he informed on them in Greek wisdom’ would then be nonsensical” (Sacha Stern, Jewish Identity in Early Rabbinic Writings [Leiden, New York & Köln, 1994], pp. 176-177).
[10] Ha-shirah ha-ʻivrit bi-Sefarad uve-Provans: mivhעar shirim ve-sipurim mehעorazim, ed. J. Schirmann (Jerusalem: Bialik Publishing, 1960), vol. 1b, pp. 493-494. This passage is cited by B. Septimus (Hispano-Jewish Culture in Transition: The Career and Controversies of Ramah, Harvard University Press, 1982, p. 85), D. Schwartz (“Hokhmah yevanit: behinah mehudeshet be-tekufat ha-pulmus ‘al limmud filosofiah,” Sinai vol. 104, p. 149) and Berger (pp. 77-78).
[11] Shmuel ha-Naggid, who did not share Halevi’s antipathy for Greek philosophy, avoids this potential trap when in an autobiographical poem written in the third person he acknowledges God who והודיעך תבונת היונים והשכילך בחכמת הערבים (Diwan Shmuel ha-Naggid, ed. D. Yarden, vol. 1 p. 58).
[12] Septimus, Hispano-Jewish Culture, p. 85.
[13] Sefer ha-Qabbalah: The Book of Tradition, ed. G. Cohen (Philadelphia, 1967), p. 24.
[14] Ibid., p. 61. Gerson Cohen notes that, “The enumeration of secular learning (lit., wisdom) and Greek wisdom as discrete categories alongside that of Torah may be intended to correspond to the three fold division of philosophical sciences adopted by medieval Jewish philosophers, among them ibn Daud: mathematics (‘secular learning’; cf. Abot 3.18); physics (‘Greek wisdom’), theology (‘Torah’).”
[15] Ibid., p. 65.
[16] Ibid., p. 73.
[17] ר’ יהודה אלפאכר, קובץ תשובות הרמב”ם, הובאו לדפוס ע״י אברהם ליכטענבערג, לפסיא, תרי״ט, אגרות קנאות, עמ’ ב.
[18] Kevutzat mikhtavim be-‘inyanei ha-mahloket ‘al devar sefer ha-moreh ve-ha-madda (Bamberg 1875), S.J. Halberstamm, ed., p. 14, qtd. in Berger, 90. Compare R. Yosef’s brother, R. Meir Abulafia (Ramah), cited in R. Betzalel Ashkenazi, Shitah Mekubetzet, Bava Kama 83a: והרמ”ה ז”ל כתב בפרטיו דחכמת יונית היינו כגון אלה חוזים בכוכבים מודיעים לחדשים ע”כ.
[19] י’ שצמילר, “לתמונת המחלוקת הראשונה על כתבי הרמב”ם”, ציון לד (תשכ”ט), עמ’ 139
[20] Kitvei ramban, ed. C.D. Chavel, Vol. 1, p. 339, with modifications based on J. Perles, MGWJ 5 (1860), p. 186.
[21] Anatoli’s conclusion ולפיכך היתה המניעה ראויה אל הרוב is noteworthy in light of Maimonides well-known description of Torah law (Guide III:34) as directed toward the majority, without exceptions for the minority for whom it may be harmful (ibn Tibbon translation): מה שצריך שתדעהו גם כן, שהתורה לא תביט לדבר הזר, ולא תהיה התורה כפי הענין המועט, אבל כל מה שירצה ללמדו מדעת או מדה או מעשה מועיל, אמנם יכוון בו הענינים שהם על הרוב ולא יביט לענין הנמצא מעט ולא להזק שיבא לאחד מבני אדם מפני השעור ההוא וההנהגה ההיא התורייה, כי התורה היא ענין אלהי, ועליך לבחון הענינים הטבעיים אשר התועלות ההם הכוללות הנמצאות בהם יש בכללם, ויתחייב מהם נזקים פרטים כמו שהתבאר מדברינו ודברי זולתנו, ולפי זאת הבחינה גם כן אין לתמוה מהיות כונת התורה לא תשלם בכל איש ואיש, אבל יתחייב בהכרח מציאות אנשים לא תשלימם ההנהגה ההיא התורייה.
[22] קבוצת מכתבים, עמ’ 95
[23] אבולעפיה, סתרי תורה, ירושלים תשס”ב, עמ’ לה-לז, צוטט ע”י מרדכי ברויאר, “מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון”, בספר מכתם לדוד: ספר זכרון הרב דוד אוקס (רמת גן, תשל”ח), עמ’ 254; Jellinek, Philosophie und Kabbalah (Leipzig, 1854), p. 38. The bracketed passage was omitted in the version cited by Breuer and Jellinek, (probably because of a טעות הדומות). Significantly, this means that R. Jacob Anatoli’s father in law, R. Shmuel ibn Tibbon, was likely the uncredited originator of the distinction between teaching children and independent learning of these subjects. Ibn Tibbon, in turn, was likely responding to his own opponents. His defensive posture reflects his self-perception as a member of a beleaguered pro-philosophic minority, although this preceded the major controversy of the 1230s—see Aviezer Ravitzky, “Samuel ibn Tibbon and the Esoteric Character of the Guide of the Perplexed,” in History and Faith: Studies in Jewish Philosophy (Amsterdam, 1996), pp. 206-208.
[24] R. Abba Mari of Lunel, Minhat Kenaot, (Pressburg, 1838), qtd. in D. Schwartz, “Changing Fronts in the Controversies over Philosophy in Medieval Spain and Provence,” Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy Vol. 7 (1997), p. 73. Sefer ha-tappuah is a medieval pseudo-Aristotelian work.
[25] This passage is relevant to the debate between Maimonides and Mendelssohn over the question of whether Noahides are obligated to keep their commandments because they were revealed to Moses or because they are required by reason (see, e.g., S. Schwarzschild, “Do Noachites Have to Believe in Revelation,” in The Pursuit of the Ideal: Jewish writings of Steven Schwarzschild, ed. M. Kellner, pp. 29-60.) In R. Abba Mari’s (overlooked) view, Noahides are not obligated to believe in creation, because unlike Jews, they are not responsible for the contents of revelation.
[26] ר’ אבא מארי, ספר הירח (בתוך מנחת קנאות) פרק י”ג
[27] D. Schwartz, “Changing Fronts”; Moshe Halbertal, Bein Torah le-Hokhmah: Rabi Menahem ha-Meʼiri u-vaʻale ha-halakhah ha-Maimonim be-Provans (Jerusalem, 2000), ch. 5.
[28] Meiri apparently had a variant text of the Yerushalmi, according to which instead of R. Abbahu permitting one to teach his daughter Greek, he permits teaching her Torah; although this makes little sense contextually, it has far more contemporary resonance.
[29] רא”ש, מנחת קנאות, מכתב צט (עמ’ 178). This position was also espoused by the fourteen Provencal rabbis who wrote to support the Rashba, seeמנחת קנאות מכתב צג .
[30] The Rashba himself apparently did not agree with the Rosh about the scope of the Talmudic prohibition, and felt that his decree was based on the needs of the time (cf. Lieberman, p. 103 n.24). Interestingly, the Rashba’s student R. Bahye b. Asher follows the position of the Rosh against that of his teacher (Commentary, Deuteronomy 30:12): …ומכאן שאין להתעסק בשאר החכמות אלא בעיקר שהיא תורתנו. צא ולמד משמואל שלא היה מתעסק בהם אלא במקום האסור לדבר שם דברי תורה, והוא מקום בלתי טהור, וכן אמרו רז”ל (מנחות צט ב): צא ובקש שעה שאינה לא מן היום ולא מן הלילה ולמד חכמת יונית. והטעם מפני שמתוך עסק שאר החכמות יבא האדם לפעמים בדת לידי נטיה מדרך האמת, כי אין לך שום חכמה בעולם שאין בה פסולת וסיג, כי לכך נמשלות החכמות כלן לכסף, כי הכסף ברוב יש בו סיגים ואינו כסף צרוף, אבל תורתנו כסף שאין בו סיג כלל, ולכך נמשלת לכסף צרוף, הוא שכתוב: (תהלים יב, ז) “כסף צרוף בעליל לארץ מזוקק שבעתים. This becomes more perplexing in light of R. Bahye’s own hermeneutical method which includes philosophical interpretation as the third of the four levels of Pardes (which R. Bahye often refers to as derekh ha-sekhel). In fact, R. Bahye was criticized harshly for his incorporation of philosophy by the 16th century anti-philosophical reactionary R. Joseph Ashkenazi: ומה ארבה לדבר הלא מוטב היה לו לרבינו בחיי להניח דרך השכל שהוא דרך השקר ולכתוב דרך הקבלה שאמר הוא עצמו שהוא דרך האמת… מי התיר לו לפרש התורה בדרך חיצוני אשר לא דרכו אותה אבותינו כי הלא לא מבני ישראל הוא … (ג’ שלום, “ידיעות חדשות על ר’ יוסף אשכנזי, ה’תנא’ מצפת”, תרביץ שנה כח, עמ’ 85-86). Obviously, R. Bahye’s philosophical interpretation does not contradict his position on external wisdom, because for R. Bahye philosophic interpretation is not ‘external wisdom’ but one of the layers of Torah meaning. It is nonetheless discordant.
[31] שו”ת הרא”ש כלל נ”ה; תא שמע, “שיקולים פילוסופיים בהכרעת ההלכה בספרד”, ספונות 18, עמ’ 101-102.
[32] ר’ ישראל בן יוסף, פי’ לאבות ב:יד, תא שמע, עמ’ 105. This position received the endorsement of Saul Lieberman, pp. 102-104. Jacob Howland argues that the prohibition according to this interpretation, “bears comparison to Socrates’ assertion that no one under thirty years of age should be exposed to dialectical argumentation, lest he be ‘filled with lawlessness’ (Republic 537e)” (Howland, Plato and the Talmud, Cambridge University Press, 2011, p. 8).
[33] Cf. Berger, pp. 111-112.
[34] לוי בן אברהם: לוית חן, דב שוורץ: “‘חכמה יוונית’—בחינה מחודשת בתקופת הפולמוס על לימוד הפילוסופיה”
[35] ספר הבתים: ספר מצוה, בעריכת מ’ הרשלר (ירושלים, תשמ”ב), מ’ ל”ת א (עמ’ רפד-רפה)
[36] ר”מ אבן גבאי, עבודת הקודש, חלק התכלית פרק ט”ז-י”ז
[37] Sefer Ha-Emunot, qtd. in Jacobs, “Attitudes of the Kabbalists and Hasidim Towards Maimonides,” The Solomon Goldman Lectures 5 (1990), p. 46. Interestingly, R. Shem Tov adopts the “moderate” position of Meiri (and Nahmanides) with regards to the prohibition of hokhmat yevanit: ויען וביען בארך הגלות נסגרו דלתי האמונות הנכוחות במשלים וחדות הנביאים והחכמים בספריהם ואי אפשר לעמוד על עקר האמונות מתוך חבור אחד על כל דיני התורה והמצות וגם בזה נפלו מחלוקות גדולות בכל הדורות הוצרכו רבים ונכבדים בספרד ובמלכיות אחרות מחשובי בני הגולה לחקור ולדרוש בדרכי היונים והישמעלים והנוצרים ויתר האומות הנמשכים אחריהם בדרכי החקירה, ואף שרבותינו הקדושים גזרו על חכמה יונית, מהם שהיו קרובים למלכות והוצרכו לעיון בדרכי הכבוד ופתחו להם פתח ועלו בסולם לאמונות… (ספר האמונות, בתוך: עמודי הקבלה, ירושלים, 2001, עמ’ ג).
[38] W. Z. Harvey, R. Hעasdai Kעresלkעasל (Jerusalem: Merkaz Zalman Shazar, 2010), p. 46 [Hebrew].
[39] Reflecting these two views, the Maharal takes two opposite views on the question of the identity of hokhmat yevanit. In his Hiddushei Aggadot (Menahot 64b), the Maharal adopts the view of ibn Gabbai, in which external wisdom is unequivocally forbidden: באותה שעה אמרו וכו׳… ארור מי שמלמד בנו חכמת יונית וכו׳. פי׳ ‘חכמת יונית’ היינו חכמת הטבע, וכל חכמות הטבע הם בכלל חכמת יונית כל אשר הוא חוץ מן התורה… ואין מותר רק חשוב תקופות ומזלות שיביט פועל השם, אבל שאר החכמות אסור ללמוד אם לא ע״י התורה, ועל זה אמרו: הפוך בה והפוך בה דכולה בה, שהכל יוצא מן התורה, ובענין זה יש ללמוד אותם, אבל בעצמם מבלי שיצא מן התורה אסור ללמוד חכמת יונית, כך יראה והוא נכון. ומכ״ש שיש דברים באלו חכמות שהם קוצים גמורים והם דברי סרה על ה׳ ועל תורתו, ומזה לא דברו חכמים, רק דברו מן הדברים אשר אינם מגיעים אל האמונה כמו ספר הטבע וספר חוש ומוחש וספר אותות עליונות וכיוצא בהם אלו דברי׳ נקראו חכמת יונית. However, in his Netivot ‘Olam, the Maharal argues at length against the interpretation which he accepted in his Hiddushei Aggadot. Here, the Maharal accepts Bibago’s argument that knowledge of nature cannot be described as Greek inasmuch as it is the property of all mankind: ומה שאמרו שחכמת הטבע נקראת חכמה גמורה… מזה נראה כי יש ללמוד חכמת האומות, כי למה לא ילמד החכמה שהיא מן השם יתברך, שהרי חכמת האומות גם כן מן השם יתברך שהרי נתן להם מחכמתו יתברך. ואין סברא לומר כי אף שהחכמה היא חכמה גמורה, מכל מקום אין לו לסור מן התורה כדכתיב “והגית בו יומם ולילה”, ויש להביא ראיה אל סברא זאת ממסכת מנחות (צט ע״ב): שאל בן דמא בן אחותו של רבי ישמעאל: כגון אני שלמדתי כל התורה כולה מהו שאלמד חכמת יונית? קרא עליו המקרא הזה “לא ימוש ספר התורה הזה מפיך”, צא ובדוק איזה היא שעה שלא מן היום ולא מן הלילה ולמוד בה חכמת יונית, ואם כן מוכח דחכמת יונית אסורה ללמוד מפני שכתוב “והגית בה יומם ולילה”. אבל נראה דחכמת יונית דהתם איירי חכמה שאין לה שייכות אל התורה כלל, כמו חכמה שהיא במליצה או משל, וחכמה זאת אין לה שייכות כלל אל התורה וכתיב (יהושע א׳) “והגית בו יומם ולילה”. אבל החכמות לעמוד על המציאות וסדר העולם, בודאי מותר ללמוד. והכי מוכח דפירוש ‘חכמת יונית’ היינו מליצה ולשון, דבפרק מרובה (ב״ק פב ע״ב) אמרינן: באותה שעה אמרו ארור האיש שיגדל חזרים וארור האדם שילמד את בנו חכמת יונים, של בית ר״ג התירו להם לספר בחכמת יונית מפני שקרובים למלכות, ומדאמר ‘לספר’ שמע מינה שהוא שייך אל הלשון. ומפני כי דבר זה אין בו תועלת להבין חכמת התורה, ולכך אסרוה. אבל דברי חכמה אינו אסור כי החכמה הזאת היא כמו סולם לעלות בה אל חכמת התורה. ועוד כי למה היו קוראין אותו ‘חכמת יונית’, אם היא לעמוד על המציאות שהוא בעולם, הלא החכמה הזאת היא חכמת כל אדם? (נתיב התורה פרק יד נתיבות עולם א עמוד נט-ס)
[40] H.M. Kallen, “Hebraism and Current Tendencies in Philosophy,” in Judaism at Bay (Bloch Publishing Co., 1932), p. 9. See also H.A. Wolfson, “Maimonides and Halevi: A Study in Typical Jewish Attitudes toward Greek Philosophy,” JQR, NS, Vol. 2, No. 3 (Jan., 1912), pp. 297-330.
[41] William Barrett, Irrational Man: A Study in Existential Philosophy (Anchor Books, 1962), pp. 77, 85.
[42] At the close of the fourteenth century, the classification of philosophy as “hokhmat yevanit” is no longer the commonplace that it was during the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. R. Shem Tov ibn Shem Tov and R. Meir ibn Gabbai are two exceptions which prove the general rule, that Talmudists and kabbalists opposed to philosophy do not classify it under the prohibition of “hokhmat yevanit.” We have already mentioned the case of R. Isaac b. Sheshet who, despite his opposition to philosophy, does not classify it under this Talmudic prohibition. Rivash’s senior colleague, R. Shimon b. Zemah Duran, whose position on the merit of philosophy is rather ambivalent, also rejects this classification. See his Magen Avot to Avot 2:19 and 5:26. In the sixteenth century, R. Solomon Luria (Maharshal), in his letter rebuking R. Moshe Isserles for his study of philosophy, likewise fails to cite this prohibition (She’elot u-teshuvot ha-Rema, 6). See also שו”ת רדב”ז מכתב יד (חלק ח’) סימן קצא (בני ברק, תשמ”ב). (The attribution of this responsum to Radbaz has been called into doubt. See David Tamar, “Al teshuvah be-inyanei filosofia ha-meyyuheset be-ta’ut la-radbaz,” Sinai vol. 78, pp. 66-71. According to Tamar, the responsa is the product of R. Eliyahu Halevi, another 16th century Egyptian rabbi, who was a student of R. Eliyahu Mizrahi. Tamar’s position appears to have been ignored by subsequent authors. See e.g.,אבי שגיא, “הפולמוס על החכמות החיצוניות בספרות השו”ת: עיון בשלוש גישות בשאלת היחס לתרבות שב’חוץ'”, – available at <http://lib.cet.ac.il/pages/item.asp?item=16868>; Introduction to Radbaz, Metzudat David, ed. Moshe Tzuriel (Jerusalem, 2003), pp. 14-15.)



A Picture and its One Thousand Words: The Old Jewish Cemetery of Vilna Revisited*

A Picture and its One Thousand Words: The Old Jewish Cemetery of Vilna Revisited*
by Shnayer Leiman
A. The Photograph.
            Recently, I had occasion to publish the above photograph – a treasure that offers a glimpse of what the old Jewish cemetery of Vilna looked like in the inter-war period.[1] Indeed, it captures the oldest portion of the rabbinic section of the old Jewish cemetery. The purpose of this essay is to identify the persons buried here and – where possible – to reconstruct and print the epitaphs on their tombstones. Seven partially legible inscriptions can be seen by the naked eye, as one moves from left to right across the photograph. An empty frame that once held a tombstone can be seen in the center of the photograph, as well. With the aid of a magnifying glass, as well as literary evidence, we shall attempt to identify all those buried here and to restore the full texts of their epitaphs. In effect, we shall engage in a virtual tour of a Jewish cemetery that – sadly — exists today almost entirely underground.
            Briefly, the old Jewish cemetery was the first Jewish cemetery established in Vilna. According to Vilna Jewish tradition, it was founded in 1487. Modern scholars, based on extant documentary evidence, date the founding of the cemetery to 1593, but admit than an earlier date for its founding cannot be ruled out.[2] The cemetery, still standing today (but denuded of its tombstones), lies just north of the center of the city of Vilna, across the Neris (formerly: the Vilia) River, in the section of Vilna called Shnipishkes (Yiddish: Shnipishok). It is across the river from, and just opposite , one of Vilna’s most significant landmarks, Castle Hill with its Gediminas Tower. The cemetery was known as the Piramont[3] cemetery, also (in Yiddish) as der alter feld or der alter beys eylam [so in Lithuanian Yiddish; in Ashkenazic Yiddish: beys oylom]. It was in use from the year it was founded until 1831, when it was officially closed by the municipal authorities. Although burials no longer were possible in the old Jewish cemetery, it became a pilgrimage site, and thousands of Jews visited annually the graves of the many righteous heroes and rabbis buried there, especially the graves of the Ger Tzedek (Avraham b. Avraham, also known as Graf Potocki, d. 1749), the Gaon of Vilna (R. Eliyahu b. Shlomo, d. 1797), and the Hayye Adam (R. Avraham Danzig, d. 1820). Such visits still took place even after World War II.[4]
            The cemetery, more or less rectangular in shape, was spread over a narrow portion of a sloped hill, the bottom of the hill almost bordering on the Neris River.[5] The photograph captures some of the oldest mausoleums and graves at exactly that spot, i.e. at the bottom of the hill almost bordering on the Neris River. The tombstone inscriptions face north, toward the top of the hill. As one moves from  left to right across the photograph, one is in effect moving uphill toward the entrance of the cemetery, a gate built into the northern portion of the cemetery fence.[6] We shall move from left to right, and begin with the first tombstone inscription.
1. R. Menahem Manes Chajes (1560-1636).
R. Menahem Manes was among the earliest Chief Rabbis of Vilna. Indeed, his grave was the oldest extant grave in the Jewish cemetery, when Jewish historians first began to record its epitaphs in the nineteenth century.[7] R. Menahem Manes’ father, R. Yitzchok Chajes (d. 1615), was a prolific author who served as Chief Rabbi of Prague. Like his father, R. Menahem Manes published several works in his lifetime, including a dirge entitled סליחה על שני קדושים  (Lublin, 1596)[8]; a treatise in rhyme encompassing all the laws of ערב שבת, entitled קבלת שבת (Lublin, 1621)[9]; and left still other works in manuscript form (e.g., a commentary on פרשת בלק, entitled דרך תמימים, now in the Bodleian Library at Oxford University).[10] His epitaph reads:[11]
2. R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (ca. 1770-1825).

 

Son of the Chief Rabbi of Brisk, R. Yosef Katzenellenbogen,[12] R. Shaul frequented Vilna as a youth in order to converse with the Gaon of Vilna. After meeting with the young Shaul, the Gaon purportedly said: “ראה זה רך בשנים וטעם זקנים מלא”.[13] Ultimately, R. Shaul settled in Vilna where he served with distinction as a מורה צדק. Influenced by the Gaon’s methodology and piety, it is no coincidence that he was asked to write letters of approbation for the first printed editions of works by the Gaon[14] and by (and about) his favorite disciples, R. Shlomo Zalman[15] (d. 1788) and his brother R. Hayyim of Volozhin[16] (d. 1821). R. Shaul’s glosses on the Talmud are included in the definitive edition of the BabylonianTalmud (ed. Romm Publishing Co.: Vilna, 1880-1886). He left an indelible impression on all who knew him; and especially on his students, among them R. David Luria[17] (d. 1855) and R. Samuel Strashun[18] (d. 1872) – two of the leading rabbinic scholars of 19th century Lithuania. He was honored at his death by being buried next to some of Vilna’s greatest rabbis, despite the fact that he was one of the last rabbis buried in the old Jewish cemetery. In 1826, a kloyz was established in Vilna in his memory. Called “Reb Shaulke’s [probably pronounced: Shoelke’s or Sheyelke’s] kloyz,” it remained in continuous use until, and even during, the Holocaust.[19]
The inscription that can be seen on the photograph reads:

 

This is simply an informational sign (almost certainly of early 20th century origin) that indicates to the visitor that R. Shaul was buried in this mausoleum. In fact, he was buried between R. Menahem Manes Chajes (d. 1636) and R. Moshe Rivkes (d. 1672), author of באר הגולה, and ancestor of the Vilna Gaon. His tombstone inscription, not visible in the photograph, reads:[20]
3.     R. Moshe, Dayyan of Vilna (ca. 1670-1740).
Little is known about R. Moshe, other than – as indicated on his epitaph – he served with distinction as a dayyan in Vilna.[21] Some of his Torah teachings are preserved in his son R. David’s, מצודת דוד (Altona, 1736).[22] R. Moshe was popularly known as “R. Moshe Charaz,” חר”ז being an abbreviation for חתן ר’ זאלקינד “son-in-law of R. Zalkind.” R. Zalkind should probably be identified with R. Shlomo Zalkind b. Barukh, who lived in the second half of the 17th century, and was a respected lay leader of Vilna’s Jewish community.[23] R. Moshe’s epitaph stands outside a second mausoleum, with its own entrance, separate from the first mausoleum (where R. Menahem Manes Chajes, R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen, and R. Moshe Rivkes were buried). The epitaph reads:[24]

 

4. R. Hillel b. Yonah (d. 1706).
The empty frame in the third mausoleum from the left held a wooden tombstone that existed into the 20th century.[25] Before it was removed for repair, it was photographed in situ, and the photograph was preserved at the Ansky Museum in Vilna. The photograph was published just prior to the onset of World War II.[26] The epitaph on the tombstone commemorates the life and death of R. Hillel b. Yonah, Chief Rabbi of Vilna, and his wife Rachel (d. 1710). They were the only occupants of the third mausoleum. R. Hillel served as Chief Rabbi of Chelm prior to his appointment as Chief Rabbi of Vilna in 1688. Some of his Torah teachings are preserved in R. David b. R. Moshe’s מצודת דוד (Altona, 1736).[27] The joint epitaph reads:[28]
5. R. Moshe Darshan (d. 1726).
R. Moshe Darshan was born in Vilna in 1641. His father, R. Hillel b. Naftali Hertz, was the celebrated author of בית הלל (on Shulhan Arukh Yoeh De’ah and Even ha-Ezer), who served on the rabbinic court of R. Moshe b. Yitzchok Yehuda Lima of Vilna (author of  חלקת מחוקק on Shulhan Arukh Even ha-Ezer) from 1651-1666, and later served as Chief Rabbi of Altona-Hamburg, and then Zolkiev.[29] R. Moshe was appointed ראש בית דין and דרשן of Vilna and served in that capacity until his death. His epitaph reads:[30]
6. R. Yaakov Kahana (d. 1826).[31]
R. Yaakov b. R. Avraham Kahana, a disciple of the Vilna Gaon, was the son-in-law of R. Yissakhar Ber (d. 1807), a brother of the Vilna Gaon.  Supported regally by his father-in-law, R. Yaakov suddenly found himself without support upon the death of his father-in-law. The Vilna kehilla immediately appointed him trustee of its various charities, in order to provide him with a dignified income, while enabling him to continue his pursuit of Torah study. R. Yaakov authored a classic commentary on B. Eruvin, גאון יעקב (Lemberg, 1863 and later editions).[32] His epitaph reads:[33]
7. R. Eliyahu Hasid (d. 1710).
R. Eliyahu was the son of R. Moshe b. David Kramer, who served as Chief Rabbi of Vilna from 1673 to 1687.[34] R. Eliyahu served as an administrator of Vilna’s צדקה גדולה and also as a dayyan. He was a great-grandfather of the Vilna Gaon, and the Gaon was named after him.[35] The epitaph reads:[36]
8. R. Yosef b. Elyah (d. 1718).
A communal leader (ראש, אלוף, מנהיג) in Vilna about whom little else is known.[37] That he was buried in proximity to R. Eliyahu Hasid (d. 1710), and that at a later date R. Moshe Darshan (d. 1726) was buried in proximity to him, is sufficient proof of his prominence, perhaps in wisdom and certainly in wealth. His epitaph reads:[38]
————————-
B. A Visit to the Old Jewish Cemetery in 1940.
            Known affectionately as “Reb Dovid,” Rabbi Meshulam Dovid Soloveitchik is currently Rosh Yeshiva of the Brisk Yeshiva in the Givat Moshe (also called: Gush Shemonim) section of Jerusalem. A descendant of R. Hayyim of Volozhin (d. 1821), and a scion of the Soloveitchik dynasty – his grandfather was R. Hayyim Soloveitchik (d. 1918), Rosh Yeshiva of Volozhin and Chief Rabbi of Brisk; and his father was R. Yitzchok Zev Soloveitchik (d. 1959), last Chief Rabbi of Brisk, and founder of the Brisk dynasty in Jerusalem) – he is a leader of the Haredi community in Israel.
A still active nonagenarian, he was born circa 1923. Upon the outbreak of World War II, he fled from Brisk and made his way to Vilna, which – largely due to the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact of August 23, 1939, and Stalin’s subsequent decision to hand Vilna over to  Lithuania – became the newly recognized capital of Independent Lithuania. Reb Dovid, a teenager at the time, resided in Vilna from October 22, 1939 through January 19, 1941, when together with his father (and other members of the family), he embarked on the arduous and dangerous journey that would bring him to the land of Israel, where the family ultimately settled.[39]
            Some 15 volumes of Reb Dovid’s teachings have appeared in print, many under the title: שיעורי רבנו משולם דוד הלוי. These are transcriptions of his lectures as recorded by his students, with focus primarily on Torah and Talmud commentary. One of the volumes, however, includes a riveting account – in R. Dovid’s own words – of how he managed to survive the Holocaust. The memoir includes a brief description of a visit he made to the old Jewish cemetery in Vilna in 1940.[40] The passage reads:[41]

“When in Vilna, I went several times to visit the cemetery where the Vilna Gaon was buried, but it was closed. The gate was kept locked because burials no longer took place in the old Jewish cemetery, which was inside the city limits. Burials now took place in another cemetery [Zaretcha] which was outside the city limits.[42] Moreover, the caretaker who had the keys [to the old Jewish cemetery] lived far from the cemetery. Once, however, I came to the cemetery and found the gate open and went in to visit the Vilna Gaon’s grave. On my way to the grave, I passed an ancient tombstone with the words משיח ה’ inscribed on its epitaph.[43] I could not understand what this signified and who was buried there.[44] From there I reached the Vilna Gaon’s grave, and nearby, the grave of R. Avraham the Ger Tzedek. (At some later date, I chanced upon a pamphlet which contained a eulogy by R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen,[45] of blessed memory, over the author of Ha-Pardes.[46] In this pamphlet about the author of Ha- Pardes, it is stated that when he died a search was made in the old Jewish cemetery for a place where he could be buried. One empty plot was found, to the right of which was buried [R. Moshe Rivkes] the author of Be’er Ha-Golah, and to the left of which was buried R. Manes משיח ה’. Since no one had been buried in the empty plot next to these rabbis for some 85 years,[47] a rabbinic court was convened to decide whether the plot could be used now for the author of Ha-Pardes. The decision was that he should be buried between the two rabbis. They explained that it was a special privilege for the author of Ha-Pardes to be buried next to these righteous persons, and went on to describe the righteousness and piety of R. Manes משיח ה’. It seems likely that this was the tombstone I saw with the words משיח ה’ on its epitaph.”

This delightful account offers important testimony regarding what a living witness observed during a visit to the old Jewish cemetery in Vilna in 1940. On his way to the Vilna Gaon’s grave, R. Dovid saw a tombstone with the words משיח ה’ inscribed on its epitaph. The reference, of course, is to the grave of R. Menahem Manes Chajes (see above, epitaph 1). It is indeed nearby to the Gaon’s mausoleum, and one could easily stop to see it on the way to the Gaon’s grave. The alert reader will surely wonder why in the photograph taken in the inter-war period, which includes the epitaph of R. Menahem Manes Chajes, one cannot make out the words משיח ה’, whereas R. Dovid testifies that in 1940 it was precisely those words that caught his attention. The answer, I believe, is provided by another photograph of R. Menachem Manes Chajes’ epitaph taken in the summer of 1936.[48]
It too, at first glance, seems to have the words משיח ה’ erased. But if one examines the photograph closely, one can make out the words משיח ה’. The white paint that once covered these etched letters has been chipped off. The inter-war photograph, a “group” photograph taken from a distance, could not capture the etched letters that now appeared as black on black. The naked eye of a human being, however, could pick up the etched stone letters that read משיח ה’. So too, a close up photograph of the Chajes epitaph alone, taken in 1936.
R. Dovid adds that, subsequently, he chanced upon a pamphlet that helped him identify the epitaph he had seen. The pamphlet contained a eulogy by R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen over the author of Ha-Pardes, who apparently died in Vilna. Initially, an appropriate burial place could not be found for him in the old Jewish cemetery. But after much search, an empty plot was found between R. Manes משיח ה’ and [R. Moshe Rivkes,] the author of Be’er Ha-Golah. Since no one had been buried in proximity to these rabbis for some 85 years, a rabbinical court had to convene in order to decide the issue. The ruling was in favor of the burial, and special mention was made of the piety of R. Manes משיח ה’, which clearly identified the epitaph that R. Dovid had seen.
            Sadly, I have not succeeded in locating such a pamphlet. If indeed R. Dovid saw such a pamphlet, he cannot be faulted for summarizing its content. It certainly enabled him to identify the epitaph as belonging to the tombstone of R. Menahem Manes Chajes. But problems abound. R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (see above, epitaph 2) died in 1825. He wrote no pamphlets and published no eulogies. The author of Ha-Pardes was R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, chief Rabbi of Koenigsberg (today: Kaliningrad).[49] He died in 1775 and was buried in Koenigsberg.[50] Thus, R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen, five years old at the time, could not have published a eulogy over him. In fact, it was R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (as described above in epitaph 2) – and not the author of Ha-Pardes – who was buried between R. Menahem Manes Chajes and R. Moshe Rivkes.
            One suspects that the pamphlet R. Dovid chanced upon was R. Zvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen’s גבעת שאול (Vilna and Grodno, 1825).
The author, a devoted disciple of R. Shaul,[51] published a eulogy upon the death of his teacher. He writes:[52]

“On the day of his [R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen’s] burial, an oracle was heard – a voice without pause[53]  – that an empty plot had been found between R. Moshe Rivkes, author of Be’er Ha-Golah and the Gaon R. Manes Chajes (who was depicted on his tombstone as משיח ה’, already so in the early generations, in the year [5]386 [= 1626],[54] even aside from the seven virtues listed by the Sages that characterize all great individuals[55]). In that section of the cemetery, the gravediggers did not dare to dig a grave during the last 85 years, for they feared for their lives. For that section of the cemetery was filled with holy and pious Jews.[56] But due to an agreement of the Moreh Zedek’s of our community, they began digging and found an empty plot waiting for this righteous Rabbi’s remains since the week of Creation.

            Here – and apparently in no other pamphlet – we have all the basic elements in R. Dovid’s account, with one glaring exception. Nothing is mentioned about the author of Ha-Pardes, R. Aryeh Leib Epstein. As indicated above, the author of Ha-Pardes in any event had nothing to do with a burial in Vilna. He lived at the wrong time (when empty plots were still available throughout the old Jewish cemetery) and died and was buried in the wrong place (in Koenigsberg). It is possible that we have in R. Dovid’s account a conflation of two unrelated pamphlets, each named גבעת שאול. Aside from R. Zvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen’s גבעת שאול (cited above), a pamphlet with the exact same title, and also offering a eulogy, was authored by R. Shemariah Yosef Karelitz (d. 1917).[57]
The pamphlet, גבעת שאול (Warsaw, 1892), was a eulogy over Karelitz’ father-in-law, whose name also happened to be R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (1828-1892), and who had served with distinction as rabbi of Kossovo and then Kobrin (both today in Belarus). This second R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen was a descendant of R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, author of Ha-Pardes. Indeed, on the first title page of Karelitz’ גבעת שאול, R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen is described in bold letters as a member of the Epstein family. On the second title page, he is described in bold letters as a descendant of “R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, author of Ha-Pardes.”
[
            In sum, R. Dovid’s account provides impeccable testimony that the epitaph on the tombstone of R. Menahem Manes Chajes – the oldest tombstone preserved in the old Jewish cemetery – could still be visited and read in 1940.[58] What he claims to have read in a pamphlet at some later date remains problematic and requires further investigation or, as the later commentators would have put it, צריך עיון.
In memory of Khaykl Lunski (ca. 1881-1943), fabled librarian of the Strashun Library, who was the embodiment of the very soul of Jewish Vilna. His last essay – a study of the faded tombstone inscriptions in Vilna’s old Jewish cemetery – was written in the Vilna Jewish ghetto created by the Nazis. It perished together with him during the Holocaust. See Shmerke Kaczerginski, חורבן ווילנע (New York, 1947), p. 198 (henceforth: Kaczerginski). Cf. Hirsz Abramowicz, Profiles of a Lost World (Detroit, 1999), p. 264. Kaczerginski’s description of Lunski’s last years in the Vilna ghetto are worth citing here:
Khaykl Lunski (ca. 1881-1943)
NOTES:

[1] Sid Z. Leiman, “Lithuanian Government Announces Construction of a $25,000,000 Convention Center in the Center of Vilna’s Oldest Jewish Cemetery,” The Seforim Blog, September 13, 2015, available online here, reprinted here. A similar photograph (from a slightly different angle) appears in Leyzer Ran, Jerusalem of Lithuania (New York, 1974), vol. 1, p. 100 (henceforth: Ran). Alas, its lack of clarity renders it mostly useless.
[2] See Israel Klausner, קורות בית-העלמין הישן בוילנה (Vilna, 1935; reissued: Jerusalem, 1972), pp. 3-5 (henceforth: Klausner). Cf. Elmantas Meilus, “The History of the Old Jewish Cemetery at Šnipiškes in the Period of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania,” Lithuanian Historical Studies 12 (2007), pp. 64-67 (henceforth: Meilus).
[3] It was originally called “Pioromont,” because the old Jewish cemetery was adjacent to a street and neighborhood named after Stanislav Pior, an 18th century starosta who owned land in the area (Meilus, p. 88).
[4] See, e.g., the testimony of Chaim Basok, who together with Rabbi Kalman Farber visited the Vilna Gaon’s grave in the old Jewish cemetery at Piramont after Vilna was liberated by the Russian army in 1944. See Kalman Farber, אולקניקי ראדין וילנא (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 413. I have personally interviewed several former residents of Vilna who visited the Gaon’s grave in the old Jewish cemetery at Piramont between 1945 and 1948.
[5] A detailed map of the cemetery, as it appeared in 1935, is appended to Klausner.
[6] For an artist’s depiction of the gate at the northern entrance to the cemetery, see Sholom Zelmanovitch, דער גר-צדק ווילנער גראף פאטאצקי (Kovno, 1934), opposite p. 44. Notice Castle Hill at the upper right hand corner of the sketch; the inscription above the gate, והקיצו לקץ הימין; and the inscriptions on the sides of the gate, בית עולם ווילנא and zydu kapines. Here is the sketch:
[7] See, e.g., Shmuel Yosef Fuenn, קריה נאמנה (Vilna, 1860), p. 63 (henceforth: Fuenn 1860). Cf. the second and revised edition of קריה נאמנה (Vilna, 1915), p. 67 (henceforth: Fuenn 1915).
[8] Yeshayahu Vinograd, אוצר ספר העברי (Jerusalem, 1994), vol. 2, p. 359, entry 65.
[9] See Moshe Dovid Chechik, “ מהר”ר מנחם מאניש חיות וספר קבלת שבת,” ישורון 17(2006), pp. 668-691.
[10] Adolf Neubauer, Catalogue of the Hebrew Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library and in the College Libraries of Oxford (Oxford, 1886), column 59, entry 293.
[11] We have attempted to transcribe the Hebrew texts exactly as they appear in the photograph. We add in brackets the reconstruction of letters and words that in all likelihood once appeared in the original texts, but were no longer visible when the photograph was taken. For other photographs of the epitaph, see Klausner, p. 36; Zalman Szyk,   יאר ווילנע 1000 (Vilna, 1939), pp. 408 and 416 (henceforth: Szyk); Ran,  vol. 1, p. 101 ; and Reuben Selevan, A Trip to Remember: New York to Europe 1936 (New York, 2009), p. 113. The reconstructions are based mostly on the earlier transcriptions of the epitaphs in Fuenn and Klausner.
Over the years, some of the epitaphs were redone, and the reconstructed texts are often faulty. Enlarged and/or dotted letters (signaling acrostics, names, or dates) were sometimes made small and the dots were omitted. Small letters were sometimes enlarged. Letters and words were added or dropped when a partially erased word could no longer be read. Thus, for example, the first three words of R. Menahem Manes Chajes’ epitaph (in the photograph) read: פה נטמן בו, an impossible construction in Hebrew. It is obvious that one or more words are missing from the opening line of the epitaph. It is also evident the first lines form an acrostic spelling out his name: מנחם מאנש. When the epitaphs were redone, the original line divisions were not always retained. For the letters in bold relating to the year of his death (קדרו ושמים), see below, note 54.  Based upon the earlier transcriptions in Fuenn (Fuenn 1860, p. 63; Fuenn 1915, p. 67) and Klausner (pp. 36-39), and a measure of common sense, the original epitaph probably read:
[12] R. Shaul was also the brother of his father’s successor in the rabbinate of Brisk, R. Aryeh Leib (d. 1837). See Aryeh Leib Feinstein,
עיר תהלה (Warsaw, 1886), p. 30.
[13] Abraham Dov Baer ha-Kohen Lebensohn, אבל כבד (Vilna, 1825), section “תולדות הנאון,” p. 2.
[14] See ספרא דצניעותא (Vilna and Grodno,1820), page following title page.  
[15] See R. Yehezkel Feivel, תולדות אדם (Dyhernfurth, 1809), vol. 2, page following title page.
[16] See R. Hayyim of Volozhin, נפש החיים (Vilna and Grodno, 1824), page following title page.
[17] Samuel Luria, “תולדות הרד”ל,” in R. David Luria, קדמות ספר הזהר (New York, 1951), pp. 12-14.
[18] See Hillel Noah Maggid Steinschneider, עיר ווילנא (Vilna, 1900), vol. 1, p. 163.
[19] See Aliza Cohen-Mushlin, Sergey Kravtsov, Vladimir Levin, Giedrė Mickūnaitė, and Jurgita Šiaučiūnaitė-Verbickienė, Synagogues in Lithuania (Vilnius, 2012), vol. 2, p. 316, item 55. Cf. Ran, vol. 1, p. 112. (The alleged photograph of R. Shaulke’s kloyz in Ran is misidentified; cf. Synagogues in Lithuania, vol. 2, p. 348, n. 248.) The address of the kloyz was Szawelska (later: Žmudskij) [Yiddish: Shavli] 5 (today: Šiauliu 2). The original building no longer stands. During the Holocaust, the kloyz continued to serve as a prayer house and it housed a Yeshiva named in memory of R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski (d. 1940). See Kaczerginski, p. 209; cf. Zelig Kalmanovitch, יומן בגיטו וילנה (Tel-Aviv, 1977), pp. 83 and 100 (English edition: Zelig Kalmanovitch “A Diary of the Nazi Ghetto in Vilna,” Yivo Annual of Jewish Social Science 8[1953], pp. 30 and 47).
[20] Fuenn 1860, pp. 236-238; Fuenn 1915, pp. 237-239; Klausner, p. 75.
[21] See Fuenn 1860, p. 100; Fuenn 1915, p. 107; and cf. Klausner, pp. 43-44.
[22] See, e.g. מצודת דוד, pp. 3a, 7a, and 31a.
[23] Fuenn 1860, p. 107, paragraph 50, number 11; Fuenn 1915, p. 113, paragraph 51, number 11.
[24] The text of the epitaph was not recorded either by Fuenn or Klausner. However, it is easily restored by combining the general information they provide with the legible portions of the text in the photograph.
[25] There is good reason to believe that wooden tombstones once proliferated in the old Jewish cemetery, but they did not survive the ravages of time and circumstance. See, e.g., Klausner, p. 38 (who indicates that as late as 1810 the fee exacted by the חברא קדישא for stone tombstones was twice the amount exacted for wooden tombstones) and Szyk, p. 406 (who states that the majority of tombstones in the old Jewish cemetery were made of wood but did not survive). Only two wooden tombstones (in the old Jewish cemetery) survived into the twentieth century; those of R. Hillel b. Yonah and R. Yehoshua Heschel b. Saul, who served as Chief Rabbi of Vilna from circa 1725 until his death in 1749. For photographs of R. Yehoshua Heschel’s wooden tombstone, see Klausner, p. 52; Szyk, p. 416; and Ran, vol. 1, p. 101.
[26] Klausner, p. 42. Cf. Szyk, p. 416 and Ran, vol. 1, p. 100 (mostly illegible).
[27] See, e.g., מצודת דוד, p. 27a.
[28] Fuenn 1860, pp. 97-98; Fuenn 1915, pp. 104-105.
[29] See Eduard Duckesz, אוה למושב (Krakau, 1903), pp. 4-7.
[30] Fuenn 1860, pp. 99-100; Fuenn 1915, pp. 106-107; Klausner, p. 43.
[31]  Moving from left to right on the photograph, R. Yaakov Kahana’s tombstone (tombstone 6) appears to the right of R. Moshe Darshan’s tombstone (tombstone 5). But as one walks uphill from the bottom to the top of the cemetery, one passes the three mausoleums, then the twin gravestones of R. Yaakov Kahana and R. Eliyahu Hasid (tombstone 7), and only then the grave of R. Moshe Darshan.
[32] For biographical information about R. Yaakov Kahana, see Fuenn 1860, p. 239; Fuenn 1915, pp. 239-240; and the third edition of Kahana’s גאון יעקב, entitled גאון יעקב השלם (Jerusalem, 1997), introductory pages. See also Yaakov Polskin, “ספר צוף דבש,” ישורון 4(1998), p. 270, notes 7-9.
[33] Here too, the photograph presents an empty frame. Only the opening lines (i.e. the marker identifying the grave) can still be read. The original epitaph is recorded in Fuenn 1860, p 240; Fuenn 1915, pp. 240-241. Klausner (p. 53) mentions Kahana’s grave but does not record the epitaph.
[34] For biographical information about R. Moshe Kramer, see Fuenn 1860, pp. 95-96; Fuenn 1915, pp. 102-103, and the references cited in the next note.
[35] See R. Avraham b. R. Eliyahu (the Gaon’s son), סערת אליהו (Vilna, 1889), p. 18. Cf. R. Yehoshua Heschel Levin, עליות אליהו (Vilna, 1885), p. 39, note 5.
[36] The opening lines (i.e. the marker identifying the grave) are painted on the upper portion of the tombstone. The epitaph is encased below the tombstone’s upper portion. For the epitaph, see Fuenn 1860, p. 99; Fuenn  1915, pp. 105-106; and Szyk, p. 408.
[37] See Fuenn 1860, p. 107; Fuenn 1915, p. 113.
[38] Here too the opening lines represent the marker identifying the grave, almost certainly added at a later date. For the epitaph, see Klausner, p. 43.      
[39] See  שיעורי רבנו משולם דוד הלוי: דרוש ואגדה (Jerusalem, 2014), pp. 390-396. For the date when R. Dovid left Vilna (January 19, 1941), we have followed Shimon Yosef Meller, הרב מבריסק (Jerusalem, 2003), vol. 1, p. 513.
[40] No precise date is provided by R. Dovid for his visit to the old Jewish cemetery. But since he arrived in Vilna on October 22, 1939, and his first attempts to visit the cemetery were thwarted, we assume the visit took place in 1940, the only full year he spent in Vilna. It is possible, however, that the visit took place late in 1939 or early in 1941.
[41] שיעורי רבנו משולם דוד הלוי: דרוש ואגדה (Jerusalem, 2014), pp. 393-394. The translation provided here is paraphrastic. The original Hebrew text reads:
[42] In 1940, Jewish burials were still taking place in Zaretcha, the successor cemetery to the old Jewish cemetery, which was closed in 1831. Zaretcha (today: Užupis), just outside the Old Town, and across the Vilenka River, was part of the Vilna municipality in 1940.
[43] In the latter part of the 19th century and the first half of the 20th century, the northern gate was no longer used. One entered the old Jewish cemetery from a side entrance on Derewnicka Street. The path from the entrance would lead one to the section where R. Menahem Manes Chajes was buried (on the right) and to the mausoleum where the Vilna Gaon was buried (on the left).
[44] The biblical title משיח ה’ (see, e.g., I Sam. 24:7 and Lam. 4:20), rendered “the Lord’s anointed one,” was usually reserved for kings and would-be messiahs (by their followers), not rabbis. R. Dovid could not identify the occupant of the grave, perhaps because the line with the name מהור”ר מנחם מאנש simply didn’t resonate to a 17 year old yeshiva student. One could claim that the line with R. Menahem Manes’ name was no longer legible in 1940 (as it was not legible in the inter-war photograph that forms the basis of this essay), but this seems highly unlikely in the light of the Selevan photograph taken in 1936. See below, note 48. The Selevan photograph is a close-up photo, and R. Dovid was standing directly in front of the same tombstone. He had no trouble reading poorly painted words.
[45] See discussion below.
[46] See discussion below.
[47] R. Menahem Manes Chajes died in 1636; R. Moshe Rivkes died in 1672. Eighty five years after these dates would be between 1721 and 1757. Since, as we shall see, the author of Ha-Pardes died in 1775, “85 years” cannot be referring to the time that elapsed between their deaths and his. “100 years” and more would have been a more accurate estimate. See below, note 56, for a likely explanation of the “85 years.”
[48] Reuben Selevan, A Trip to Remember: New York to Europe 1936 (New York, 2009), p. 113. I am deeply grateful to the author for granting me permission to scan and post the photograph (taken by his father in 1936) of R. Menahem Manes Chajes’ epitaph.
[49] For a biography of R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, see R. Ephraim Mordechai Epstein, גבורות ארי (Vilna, 1870). Ha-Pardes, only partially published, was an encyclopedic work encompassing many different genres of rabbinic literature. It includes talmudic commentary, listing and exposition of the 613 commandments, responsa literature, halakhic codes, kabbalistic teaching, sermons, eulogies, and more. The first fascicle with the title ספר הפרדס was published in Koenigsberg, 1759. It is a available today in several editions, including: ספרי בעל הפרדס (Bnei Brak, 1978), 2 vols.; and ספרי הפרדס (Jerusalem, 1983), 4 vols. See also מעשה רב חדש (Bnei Brak, 1980), pp. 29-80.
[50] His grave is no longer standing. A sketch of his grave, as it looked in 1904, appears in Festschrift zum 200jahrigen Bestehen des israelitischen Vereins für Krankenpflege und Beerdigung Chewra Kaddischa (Koenigsberg, 1904), sketch IV. The full Hebrew epitaph is printed opposite p. XX.

[51] See the entry on him in Encyclopaedia Judaica (Jerusalem, 1973), vol. 10, column 830.
[52] גבעת שאול, p. 23a. The translation here is paraphrastic. The Hebrew text reads:
[53] See Deut. 5:19 and Rashi’s comment ad loc.
[54] The year of R. Menahem Manes Chajes’ death was recorded on his epitaph with the words: קדרו ושמים. Several of these letters had  protruding dots above them; the numerical value of the dotted letters yields the year of his death. At a very early period, some of the dots could no longer be read. Fuenn (1860, p. 63; 1915, p. 67) writes that he was able to make out dots above the letters ר, ו , and מ. But those letters alone could not possibly refer to his date of death. This passage indicates that in 1825, at least, the dotted letters also includedק   and final ם, totaling [5]386 = 1626. On other grounds, we know that Chajes died in [5]396 = 1636, so it appears likely that the dotted letters also once included the י of ושמים. If not for Fuenn’s testimony, we would claim that the second word by itself, ושמים ( = [5]396) yields the year of Chajes’s death. Cf. Moshe Dovid Chechik (above, note 9), p. 675.
[55] See M. Avot 5:7.
[56] Given that this passage was written in 1825, “85 years” here refers to the period between 1740 and 1825. As the passage itself makes clear, the reference is to the many rabbinic greats who were buried in this section of the cemetery by 1740 – and not later. See above, epitaphs 1,3,4,5,7, and 8, all of which are samples that support the claim that after 1740 no rabbinic greats were buried in this section of the cemetery. Epitaphs 2 and 6 are in harmony with this claim. Epitaph 2 is the epitaph of R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen, the case at hand. Epitaph 6 (R. Yaakov Kahana) is dated 1826, a year after the case at hand and the publication of the passage in R. Zvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen’s גבעת שאול.
[57] The father of R. Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz (d. 1953), author of חזון איש.
[58] I am deeply grateful to Professor Dovid Katz of Vilnius, mentor and colleague, whose astute comments have enhanced the final version of this essay.



Evening Prayer Revisited

Evening
Prayer Revisited
Chaim
Sunitsky
There is a dispute in
Tamud Bavli (Brachot 4b) as to whether one should say Shma with Brachot
before or after Shmone Esre during the evening prayer. The opinion of R.
Yohanan is that Shma is said first while the opinion of R. Yehoshua ben Levi is
that Shmone Esre is said before the Shma. Moreover, while R. Yohanan holds that
Shma is followed by Shmone Esre immediately, according to R. Yehoshua ben Levi
Shmone Esre can be recited separately and Shma with its blessings does not have
to follow immediately after. The practice of all Jews today is to follow R.
Yochanan.
Most Rishonim[1] and
the Shulchan Aruch rule like R. Yohanan and indeed this seems to be the opinion
of the Babylonian Talmud. This is called being “Somech Geula leTefila”, meaning
the blessing of Gaal Yisrael (Who Redeemed Israel) is recited immediately
before the Shmone Esre.   At first sight
it seems that the last blessing after evening Shma (Hashkivenu – let us go to
sleep) only makes sense according to R. Yehoshua ben Levi. Indeed, Talmud Bavli
(ibid) asks how the blessing of Hashkivenu would not be considered an
interruption between Geula and Tefila according to R. Yochanan? It answers that
it is considered “long Geula” (or continuation of the Geula). Our thesis is
that in Palestine in Talmudic times, the opinion of R. Yehoshua ben Levi was
the more accepted shita and moreover that they used to say Hashkivenu as the
last blessing before going to sleep (as we say Hamapil[2]).
Rashi (Brachot
2a) brings in the name of Talmud Yerushlami: Why do we say Shma in the
synagogue in the evening, even though this is done before[3] the
earliest time to fulfil the obligation? It answers that we do this  כדי לעמוד בתפלה
מתוך דברי תורה
While it seems from
Rashi that they said Shma with the blessings before Shmone Esre[4], the Tosafot
(ibid) in the name of R. Tam[5] says that
they used to simply recite Shma without blessings before Maariv, just like we
say Ashre before Mincha. Later on they would say Shma with the blessings
following R. Yehoshua ben Levi.  Indeed
the sugia further in the same Yerushalmi (1:1) supports this interpretation entirely[6]:
מילתיה אמרה שאין אמר דברים
אחר אמת ויציב מילתיה דרבי שמואל בר נחמני אמר כן רבי שמואל בר נחמני כד הוה נחית
לעיבורה הוה מקבל רבי יעקב גרוסה והוה רבי זעירא מטמר ביני קופייא משמענא היך הוה
קרי שמע והוה קרי וחזר וקרי עד דהו’ שקע מיניה גו שינתיה ומאי טעמא רבי אחא ור’
תחליפא חמוי בשם רבי שמואל בר נחמן רגזו ואל תחטאו אמרו בלבבכם על משכבכם ודומו
סלה מילתיה דר’ יהושע בן לוי פליגא דרבי יהושע בן לוי קרי מזמורים בתרה …
It discusses if it’s
permitted to speak after one already said the blessings after evening Shma[7]. It
mentions R. Yakov Grosa used to not speak after he said Shma with blessings,
and then mentions R. Yehoshua ben Levi[8] who
used to still say various psalms afterwards[9]. 
From the Yerushalmi it
seems that most people used to say Shmone Esre during the daytime, and later
ate their meal[10]
and laid down to sleep[11] saying
the evening Shma with blessings.[12]
We can also explain from
here how the shita of Bet Shamai regarding saying evening Shma while laying
down could have developed. It is unlikely that Shma in the evening was
pronounced in normal position and then in some generation Bet Shamai suddenly
ruled that one has to literally lie down to say it. A more likely scenario is
that it was the norm to recite the evening Shma while lying down and the
dispute of Bet Hillel and Bet Shamai arose as to whether this is the
requirement or is merely done for convenience so as to not interrupt and fall
asleep immediately.
Another obscure shita
we can now explain is in Zohar Hadash (Bereshit 17d in Mosad HaRav Kook
edition
). It mentions that the idea of praying with “redness of the sun”
applies to Maariv, not Mincha[13] like
our Talmud (Brachot 29b). In light of the shita of R. Yeshoshua ben Levi
we can understand this. It seems the ideal time for Maariv according to this
was around sundown. However one cannot fulfill the mitzvah of Shma at this
time. It is also interesting that in Tosefta (Brachot, 3:2) the opinion
of R. Yossi is mentioned that Maariv should be recited at the time of “Neilat
Shearim”.
In conclusion, it seems
that there were some communities where the norm was to recite Shmone Esre of the
evening prayer before Shma with blessings, and these communities apparently
recited the last blessing of Shma (Hashkivenu) in place of our Hamapil.


[1] I am currently unaware of any Rishon that paskened not like R. Yohanan, however
the Meiri writes that “majority” pasken like R. Yohanan, so there must have
been some who did not.
[2] Indeed Yerushlami does not mention the blessing of Hamapil, but it seems they
used to say Hashkiveinu as the last Bracha and fall asleep afterwards. It’s
interesting that our siddurim added Hashkivenu without Hatima at the Seder of
going to sleep even though in reality for us this brocha is not necessary since
we have Hamapil.
[3] It was normal to say the evening Shmone Esre in Eretz Yisrael during day time,
before stars come out (possibly because of the danger to go outside at night as
their synagogues were outside of the city).
[4] As many do today when praying early Maariv.
[5] See also Rosh (Brachot 1:1) and Korban Netaniel (10).
[6] See the commentaries from Baal Sefer Haredim and R. Chaim Kanievky.
It’s possible that Rashi did not see this whole sugia in Yerushlami but only
saw a quote of it in a Gaonic source. In general regarding use of Yerushalmi in
Rashi, see Saul Lieberman’s letter to Solomon Zeitlin published at the end of Saul
Lieberman and the Orthodox
by R. Marc Shapiro, see also the discussion from
Homat Yerushalaim printed in the beginning of standard Yerushalmi
editions.
[7] The Yerushalmi calls the blessing after “Emet Veyatziv” as this was their
Nusach, but our Nusach in the evening is “Emet Veemuna”.
[8] Of course R. Yehoshua ben Levi followed his own shita and said Shma with
Brachot after Shmone Esre. Note that the same sugia before in Yerushalmi also
discusses whether it’s permitted to speak after “Emet Veyatziv”. It continues
with והא תני אין אומר דברים אחד אמת ויציב פתר לה באמת ויציב של שחרית.
[9] This is mentioned in our Talmud (Shevuot 16b) as well.
[10] And the prohibition of eating before Shma did not apply since they read Shma
already even though they did not fulfill their obligation or because they were
eating before the time of Shma arrived.
[11] For
those who did not immediately go to sleep, the Yerushalmi (ibid) indeed
mentions that they should recite Shma (with blessings) before midnight.
[12] Interestingly even at later times when many communities had a custom to say the
evening prayer early, some people recited Shma without Brachot. R. Hai Gaon (Tshuvot
Hagaonim Hahadashot – Emanuel
, 93; this tshuva is brought in Rosh
1:1 and Bet Yosef 235) suggests that the one who is found in such a
congregation should only say Shma without blessings and pray Shmone Esre
together with them, but later one say Shma with Brachot.
[13] Indeed the Talmud there states that in Palestine they cursed the one who prays
Mincha so close to sundown as it may lead to missing the time. Obviously this
does not apply to Maariv for which there is plenty of time afterwards.



A Quotation Fabrication: What the Rema did Not Say on Wearing Leather Shoes on Yom Kippur

A Fabricated Rema Quotation on Wearing Leather Shoes
by Rabbi Ari Z. Zivotofsky

The PETA website (accessed Aug 2, 2011) states:

“Jews are prohibited from wearing leather on Yom Kippur.”

The site continues by stating:
“Jewish Vegetarians of North America President Richard H. Schwartz explains “One reason is that it is not considered proper to plead for compassion when one has not shown compassion to the creatures of G-d, whose concern extends to all of His creatures.” (see his website)
They further assert:
“Many rabbis through the ages have shared this view. Rabbi Moses Isserles (c. 1528-1572), aka the Rema, said, “How can a man put on shoes, a piece of clothing for which it is necessary to kill a living thing, on Yom Kippur, which is a day of grace and compassion, when it is written ‘His tender mercies are over all His works’?” (Psalms 145:9).”

I came across this while researching my Fall 2011 Jewish Action column on the misconception that it is prohibited to wear leather items, such as a leather belt or yarmulke, on Yom Kippur and Tisha B’av (see here). Actually, as I show in that article, there is no general prohibition against wearing leather on Yom Kippur. Furthermore, there is not even a prohibition of wearing “leather shoes.” Rather, the prohibition on Yom Kippur and Tisha b’Av is wearing “shoes”, which in normative halacha are defined as leather shoes, although not everyone agrees to that and many authorities assume the prohibition is to wear any protective shoe.[1] Thus, not wearing leather shoes has nothing to do with compassion to animals, but is rather an innui for us, not compassion for animals. In addition, these rules also apply on Tisha B’av when there is no “pleading for compassion” and when we also wear leather at Mincha – when we put on tefillin.

But most intriguing was this “quote” from the Rema that PETA cited from Richard H. Schwartz. It did not sound like the Rema, and indeed it does not exist. So I proceeded to track down its origin. (It seemed unlikely that Richard Schwartz would simply fabricate a quote.) The Rema (OC 223:6, cf KSA 59:13) does quote that verse, but in a different context. He records that it is customary that when someone acquires a new garment people wish him well by saying “tivale v’tichadash – may you wear it out and get a new one”, however some people say not to say that on leather garments because then another animal will need to be killed and God is merciful on all his creatures. Amazingly, the Rema then rejects that argument as weak. Thus, in the only place where the Rema cites that pasuk he rejects it as a reason.

So where did PETA find this “quote”? In Schwartz’s book Judaism and Vegetarianism (p. 21 in the 1988 ed.) he includes this –


– and in footnote 34 he tells us that his source for this amazing quote is Samuel Dresner, The Jewish Dietary Laws (p. 33-34, 1966 ed). Unfortunately, Schwartz misread Dresner, misunderstood where quotes ended, did not look up Dresner’s source, and thereby fabricated a quote from the Rema.

Dresner’s point of departure was the law cited above regarding the good wishes offered upon putting on a new garment. He then cites a novel reason for the prohibition of leather shoes, but does not give much detail about his source. It turns out that this reason is found for the first time in Toldot Esther, a commentary by Rabbi Shlomo Tzvi Shück (1844-1916) on the Siddur haMinhagim of Rabbi Yitzchak Isaac Tirna (64a in the 1880 ed. link).

Dresner may or may not have understood where the quotes end, but it is indeed confusing in his English rendition.

He quotes the Rema regarding leather clothing along with the pasuk from Tehillim (and following Shick, leaves out the Rema’s rejection). He then quotes the Rema regarding no shechiyanu on shechita and, without opening or closing quotes, proceeds into Shick’s novel reason for not wearing leather shoes on Yom Kippur.

Rav Shick (see scan below) was very clear in how he explained himself. He wrote that he had his way of explaining the prohibition of wearing (leather) shoes on Yom Kippur. He then cited the Rema on new clothes and the Rema on shehechiyanu on a first occasion, and based on those asked rhetorically how on Yom Kippur which is a day of chesed v’rachamim one can wear a garment that necessitated killing an animal. He had no fabricated quotes, but he does offer a perplexing explanation for something that was not looking for one. As noted above, the prohibition on Yom Kippur is to wear shoes, which some people understand to mean leather shoes. But the prohibition is derived from the fact that going shoeless is an innui. It also therefore applies on Tisha b’Av and to mourners, obviously unrelated to chesed v’rachamim. Furthermore, leather may be worn on Yom Kippur.

Thus, a novel, difficult to understand explanation for a straightforward prohibition has spawned a fabricated quote from the Rema that is now fairly widespread on the web.

[1] Safrai, Mishnat Eretz Yisrael, demonstrates that the earliest prohibition was to wear any shoe, leather or otherwise. They point to the Tosefta which prohibits “even empilia of cloth.” They understand that to mean a cloth shoe. The Yerushalmi, that distinguishes between leather shoes is modifying the original prohibition, as found in the Tosefta, that prohibited all shoes. According to this, it is somewhat understandable how one could shun all shoes today.[2] Another source does give a reason why specifically leather shoes are prohibited. Shu”t Maharshag (#110 in 5743 ed.) (Rav Shimon Greenfield, 1860 – 1930; one of the leading rabbis in post-Word War I Hungary. A student of Rav Moshe (“Maharam”) Shick, a cousin of Rabbi Shlomo Tzvi Shick) parenthetically quotes that the Pri Eitz HaChaim quotes the AriZal gave a kabbalistic reason why on Yom Kippur specifically leather shoes are prohibited. Again, it has nothing to do with leather or compassion to animals.Rav Yehuda Aszod (1796-1866; Shu”t Yehudah Ya’aleh 1:164) was asked whether one may shecht on Rosh Hashana. It is clear from Tanach (Nechemia 8:10) and the Mishna (Hullin 5:3) that meat was commonly eaten on Rosh Hashanah. Nonetheless, Rav Aszod noted that all shechita includes an element of tzar ba’alei chaim and without the Torah’s explicit permission would be prohibited. On the yom ha-din when we are asking for mercy it is inappropriate to shecht an animal.