Can Orthodoxy Decide Its Own History?

Rabbi Shmuel Lesher 

The Making of a Godol

In his 2004 review of Rabbi Nosson Kamenetsky’s controversy-sparking Making of a Godol,[1] Professor Mordechai Breuer notes a marked change happening within haredi culture, specifically book culture:

The contents of the traditional Haredi bookshelf have expanded and transformed beyond recognition in recent generations. Alongside … the rabbinic classics … the shelves are now filled with books of types our ancestors could not have imagined.[2]

Breuer is referring to the proliferation of a new form of biography, or hagiography, of gedolim, or “Torah scholars” sometimes referred to as “Shivhei Tzaddikim” (Praises of the Righteous).

To be sure, historically, the practice of telling stories of praise and piety about gedolim is not new. Records of this literature can be found as early as the 19th century.[3] However, the recent proliferation and high demand for these works within contemporary haredi society is a fairly recent phenomenon.

It is against this backdrop that, in his review, Breuer celebrates R. Kamenetsky’s publication of Making of a Godol. He correctly notes that this book is not just another routine addition to the existing genre of hagiography. Quite the contrary, employing the rigorous research of an academic, the book makes a serious effort to depict the lives of Lithuanian yeshiva personalities as they truly were, without embellishment or distortion. In stark contrast to those who advocate for the idealized and sanitized portrayal of gedolim as saintly individuals devoid of human flaws or weakness, R. Kamenetsky authored a book whose content was subject to a single test: the test of truth.[4]

It is for this very reason that others did not celebrate the publication of Making of a Godol. In fact, shortly after the book was published in 2002, it was subject to a ban and removed from bookstores.

Breuer has his own critiques of the book. In addition to a number of serious methodological issues he raises with the book from an academic historical perspective, Breuer takes issue with a number of passages from a religious perspective, some of which may have been the reasons why it was banned within parts of the haredi community:

It is unfortunate that the author did not refrain from delving into minutiae that lack historical significance, including the personal weaknesses of Torah scholars… Yet, the author makes no effort to reconcile this phenomenon with the ideal of shemirat halashon (guarding one’s speech) …. The extensive treatment of such topics, without any attempt to analyze or integrate them into a cohesive picture of the “Making of a Godol” borders on gossip for its own sake. It would have been better to omit such material altogether.[5]

Jewish History: Lashon Harah?

Although Breuer categorizes the inclusion of some trivial and negative descriptions of gedolim in R. Kamenetsky’s book as “bordering on gossip for its own sake,” someone who levels the claim of actual lashon harah (prohibited negative speech) against any and all accurate history-keeping is Rabbi Shimon Schwab.

R. Schwab correctly notes that history must be accurate:

History must be truthful, otherwise it does not deserve its name. A book of history must report the bad with the good, the ugly with the beautiful, the difficulties and the victories, the guilt and the virtue. Since it is supposed to be truthful, it cannot spare the righteous if he fails, and it cannot skip the virtues of the villain. For such is truth, all is told the way it happened.[6]

Clearly, there is little use for inaccurate history books. 

R. Schwab further notes that since the canonization of Tanakh, no works of Jewish history were composed by our Sages. It appears that when prophecy ceased, the recording of Jewish history stopped at the same time.[7]

This phenomenon was noted by historian Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi. He writes that after the canonization of the Bible, it appears that Jewish historiography abruptly stopped:

After the close of the biblical canon the Jews virtually stopped writing history…. It is as though, abruptly, the impulse to historiography had ceased.[8]

This, Yerushalmi writes, is remarkable. Biblical Jewry and subsequent generations of Jews drew deep meaning from history. Their people’s history was deeply wedded to their sacred scripture. They came together weekly to read aloud from these passages in synagogues for thousands of years. Generation of scribes would copy and transmit these texts to the next generation with the utmost care and concern for their sacred task.[9]

Moreover, the Torah itself commands the Jewish people to remember “the days of old and to contemplate the years of every generation”:

זכר ימות עולם בינו שנות דור ודור שאל אביך ויגדך זקניך ויאמרו לך

Remember world history, study the generational epochs. Ask your father and he will relate to you, your elders and they will tell you (Devarim 32:7).

Therefore, R. Schwab asks: Why did our great Torah leaders not deem it necessary to register in detail all the events of their period just as the Torah and the prophets had done before them? 

R. Schwab’s answer will likely be shocking to all those who love history:

Only a prophet mandated by his Divine calling has the ability to report history as it really happened, unbiased and without prejudice….An historian has no right to take sides. He must report the stark truth and nothing but the truth…if an historian would report truthfully what he witnessed…He would violate the prohibition against spreading loshon harah which does not only apply to the living, but also to those who sleep in the dust and cannot defend themselves any more. What ethical purpose is served by preserving a realistic historic picture? Nothing but the satisfaction of curiosity. [10]

Using the imagery of Shem and Yefet who covered the nakedness of their father Noah when he became intoxicated, preserving their saintly memory of their father (Bereishit 9:23), R. Schwab argues for a more synthetic and sterilized version of Jewish history:

We should tell ourselves and our children the good memories of the good people, their unshakeable faith, their staunch defense of tradition, their life of truth, their impeccable honesty, their boundless charity and their great reverence for Torah and Torah sages. What is gained by pointing out their inadequacies and their contradictions? We want to be inspired by their example and learn from their experience. Rather than write the history of our forebears, every generation has to put a veil over the human failings of its elders and glorify all the rest which is great and beautiful. That means we have to do without a real history book….We do not need realism, we need inspiration from our forefathers in order to pass it on to posterity. 

Because a historian must record the facts, and the facts remain lashon harah and therefore forbidden, R. Schwab argues that Torah-true “historians” should engage in the genre of “story-telling” rather than truthful history focusing on telling the stories that will inspire, leaving out the truth if unflattering.

Is R. Schwab correct in asserting that the reading or writing of all accurate history is in violation of the formal prohibition(s) of lashon harah and therefore renders the field of Jewish history decidedly quite “un-Jewish”? Any serious student of history must respond to this question.[11]

It appears from the literature that the standard prohibition of lashon harah only applies to the living. The Gemara in Berakhot (19a) cites Rabbi Yitzhak who states, “Anyone who speaks negatively about the deceased is as if he speaks about a stone. Some say this is because the dead do not know, and some say that they know, but they do not care [about such speech].

Simply understood, R. Yitzhak’s statement means that just as there is no formal prohibition of lashon harah for slandering inanimate objects, there is no lashon harah when speaking negatively about the dead.[12]

Although the Raavya[13] and the Mordekhai[14] quote an ancient heirem (ban) against falsely libeling the deceased which is codified in Shulhan Arukh,[15] this would not constitute formal lashon harah.[16]

Interestingly, the father of the aforementioned R. Nosson Kamenetsky, Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetsky, writes that even this ban, which reaches beyond the scope of normative lashon harah, only forbids false libel. Whereas lashon harah is forbidden when speaking about living persons even when true,[17] one is permitted, according to the elder R. Kamenetsky, to tell negative stories about people from the past as long as they are true. R. Gil Student notes that when applied to history, this principle would provide a heter (allowance) for the accurate, albeit occasionally negative, recording of facts.[18]

On the other hand, R. Binyamin Yehoshua Zilber argues, contrary to the simple reading of the Gemara cited above, the dead do, in fact, know about and are affected by what is said about them. Therefore, he rules that one may not say anything bad about the dead, false or true.[19]

The Allowance of “Toelet”

Either approach one takes to lashon harah about the dead, the allowances to permitted lashon harah would seem to apply to the dead just as it applies to the living. Regarding history, two allowances outlined by the Hafetz Haim seem particularly relevant: one permitting the “sharing of public knowledge”[20] and another based on “toelet” — having a legitimate or constructive purpose.[21] If something is already public knowledge, its inclusion in history books is permitted under the category of “sharing public knowledge.” If it is not already known, I would argue that documenting it for posterity, when it serves a constructive purpose for the historical record, should also be allowed.

Returning to Making of a Godol, R. Kamenetsky was aware of the potential for Breuer’s critique of lashon harah. In defense of his choice to include some less than savory passages in his book apparently for the sake of the historical record, R. Kamenetsky appears to utilize the “toelet argument”:

It goes without saying that R. Mordekhai Schwab [brother of R. Shimon Schwab who supported the study of accurate Jewish history] did not approve of revealing faults in any man without constructive purpose; and neither do I.[22]

R. Kamenetsky makes another argument to support disclosing even unsavory information. He claims there is some form of halakhic statute of limitations on people’s embarrassment. Things that transpired over a century ago are no longer subject to the rules of lashon harah:

I did not give much consideration to concealing then-sensitive matters for the reason that when my father talked about these long-past episodes he specifically applied the verse גם שנאתם גם קנאתם כבר אבדה (Both their [the principals’] enmity and their envy are already bygone)[23]…. In fact, my father considered the passage of only 50 years – a יובל (which the Torah labels ” לעולם [forever]”) – to have enough of a cumulative effect to erase one world and bring a new society in its stead.[24]

This rationale goes well beyond the toelet allowance or limiting lashon harah to the living. If one accepts this contention, any information that is at least 50 years old can be written even if the individual would not want this information shared.

Whatever the assumed allowance is, in recent years, it appears that many, even within the haredi community, have taken a more open approach to the study of Jewish history. 

Although Making of a Godol was banned, this did not impede the public’s interest in historical scholarship. Over twenty years after the Making of a Godol ban, interest in the academic study of Jewish history has only grown. Today, there is a new wave of Jewish historians, writers, and podcast hosts who are engaged in rigorous study and writing of Jewish history. In their weekly column in Mishpacha magazine “For the Record,” Yehuda Geberer and Dovi Safier cite directly from historical documents and materials from Jewish history. Geberer hosts a popular podcast entitled “Jewish History Soundbites (here).”Nachi Weinstein of Lakewood, New Jersey, the host of the Seforim Chatter podcast (here), routinely interviews academic historians and professors well outside the typical sources found in the more insulated Yeshiva community.

Although there is still a strong presence of the typical biographical or hagiographical, any careful observer of the Jewish community can discern a largely different approach being taken to the study of Jewish history.

The Ethical Imperative of Accurate Historiography

I have shown that, although debated, there is a halakhic basis for the study of accurate and truthful Jewish history. However, is there a moral imperative to study Jewish history? It may be permitted halakhically, but is there inherent value in the recording of history?

According to Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, we can derive from the Torah itself that there is an ethical value in preserving history. R. Hirsch notes that the Torah “does not hide from us the faults, errors, and weaknesses of our great men” and narrates events simply “because they took place”:

The Torah never hides from us the faults, errors, and weaknesses of our great men. Just by that it gives a stamp of veracity to what it relates . . . The Torah never presents our great men as being perfect, it deifies no man, says of none ‘here you have the ideal, in this man the divine became human’ . . . The Torah is no collection of examples of saints. It relates what occurred, not because it was exemplary, but because it did occur.[25]

In fact, recording the mistakes of our biblical heroes provides more credibility to the Torah.

R.Yehuda Leib Bloch, the Rosh Yeshiva of Telshe, Lithuania makes a similar point:

At the very moment it describes the greatness and holiness of the Patriarchs, [the Torah] does not remain silent about their shortcomings. It does not conceal their flaws, nor does it portray them as divine beings possessing every virtue without defects or shortcomings….Our Torah is a Torah of truth, a Torah of life. It teaches us that a person, by virtue of being human, cannot be divine.[26]

Aside from the lesson of our Patriarchs’ and Matriarchs’ humanity and the credibility gained by the Torah, the fact that the Torah records events simply “because they took place” is significant for R. Hirsch. The very notion that something occurred, in and of itself merits being recorded in the Torah because the Torah values the truth of history. Throughout many of his works, R. Hirsch emphasizes the importance of historical awareness and the necessity of the study of history.[27] One citation will suffice:

To obtain knowledge of Nature and History…is not only something permitted but something which is desirable to the fullest extent, for only a mind armed with such a wide panoramic view on all matters can draw the right conclusions of the Jewish position in the world, in the whole of its speciality.[28]

Censoring the “Inconvenient Truths” of History 

Rabbi Dr. Jacob J. Schacter has argued in a number of important essays that there is an ethical imperative to preserving historical truth about our past and “facing the truths of history.”[29]

In support of his position, which he notes has historically been the minority one, R. Schacter draws from R. Yaakov Emden,[30] R. Hirsch,[31] and the Hazon Ish.[32] Critical of hagiographic works that censor or remove “inconvenient truths” about gedolim, R. Schacter writes:

Is overlooking part of the truth, in fact, any less of a lie than actively distorting it? Do not both result in a less than true—let us call it what it really is, i. e., false—picture of the facts or figure being presented? W. E. B. Du Bois wrote: “One is astonished in the study of history at the recurrence of the idea that evil must be forgotten, distorted, skimmed over.”[33]

R. Schacter also responds to R. Schwab’s rationalization for omitting parts of history:

It is interesting that Rabbi Schwab does not deny that “important people” and “good people” have failings and inadequacies. Rather, he suggests that they are best overlooked and forgotten. However, even this…explains only the neglect and disregard of history; it does not justify the distorting of history. While it may explain why one should not write about the past, it does not justify distorting the past when one does write about it. Inventing the past is as foolish as foretelling the future, but more scandalous.[34]

Suffice it to say, although “facing the truths of history” may be difficult, even prohibitive according to some, according to R. Schacter and those of his school, it is imperative.

The Miracle of Jewish Survival 

There may be yet another reason to study Jewish history from a religious perspective. In an often-cited passage, R. Yaakov Emden writes that Jewish history very well may be the repository of the greatest miracle known to man:

Who is so blind as to not see the divine providence?… We the exiled nation, a dispersed sheep. After all the troubles and shifts for two thousand years. No nation in the world is as pursued as us….[Our enemies] have brought on us great sufferings but were never able to triumph over us…All these ancient, powerful nations have gone by, their strength has withered, their protection has eroded. But we who cling to G-d are all alive today…Can the hand of chance do all this? I swear by my soul that…these ideas are greater [miracles] in my eyes than all the great open miracles G-d has performed for our forefathers in Egypt, the Sinai Desert, and in the land of Israel. The longer the exile lasts, the more the miracle is confirmed…[35]

If, as R. Emden argues, the story of Jewish people’s survival is even more miraculous and contributes more to our faith than the Exodus, it would follow that the study of the Jewish people’s history and its survival would be a critical part of Jewish education and faith-building.

In fact, R. Emden’s theory of the significance of the Jewish story of survival and its place within history, was felt by Catholic historian Paul Johnson. In the prologue to his A History of the Jews, Johnson gives his fourth and final reason why he chose to write this book and to study the Jewish people:

The book gave me the chance to reconsider objectively…the most intractable of all human questions: what are we on earth for? Is history merely a series of events whose sum is meaningless?….No people has ever insisted more firmly than the Jews that history has a purpose and humanity a destiny. At a very early stage in their collective existence they believed they had detected a divine scheme for the human race, of which their own society was to be a pilot. They worked out their role in immense detail. They clung to it with heroic persistence in the face of savage suffering. Many of them believe it still….The Jews, therefore, stand right at the centre of the perennial attempt to give human life the dignity of a purpose.[36]

For Johnson, the Jews stand at the centre of the very question of history and of human existence itself. Believing and arguing, by their very existence, that mankind does matter, and that there is moral significance to the history of the human race. 

In sum, the value of the rigorous and accurate study of Jewish history has been the subject of debate. From the standpoint of halakhah, I have argued that even negative information that can provide a greater understanding of our history is permitted to be recorded if it serves a constructive purpose for the historical record. However, more fundamentally, I believe that the proper study of Jewish history is not only a moral imperative ensuring an accurate picture of the past, it provides us with a deep sense of memory and Jewish identity. 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes that although Jews were the first people to write history, biblical Hebrew has no word for “history.” Instead it uses the root zakhor, meaning “memory.”[37] History and memory are not the same thing. History is about facts, memory is about identity. History is about something that happened to someone else. It is “his story.” Memory is my story, the past that made me who I am, of whose legacy I am the guardian for the sake of generations yet to come. While, as I have argued, the study of history is crucial, without memory, there is no identity, and without identity, we are “mere dust on the surface of infinity.”[38]

[1] R. Nosson Kameneksty, Making of a Godol: A Study of Episodes in the Lives of Great Torah Personalities (Mesorah, 2002).
[2] Mordechai Breuer, “Gidulo Shel Gadol (Making of a Godol)” Hamayan 44:2 Teves 5764, pp. 81-82. For more reviews of Making of a Godol see Zev Lev, “Al Gidulo shel Gadol,” Hamayan 50:1 (Tishrei 5770) , pp. 100-104; “Teguvah le-divrei Prof. Lev z”l al ha-sefer “Gidulo shel Gadol” Hamayan 50:7 (Tishrei 5770), pp. 77-104.
[3] See Immanuel Etkes, “On Shaping the Image of ‘the Gedolim’ in Ultra-Orthodox Lithuanian Hagiographic Literature,” in Benjamin Brown and Nissim Leon, eds., The Gedolim: Leaders Who Shaped the Israeli Haredi Jewry (Magnes, 2017), p. 26 (Hebrew). I was introduced to this and several other sources referenced in this article through R. Dovid Bashevkin. See his “Is Jewish History Lashon Harah,” Reading Jewish History in the Parsha (April 10, 2024) (available here).
[4] Breuer, “Gidulo Shel Gadol,” p. 81.
[5] Breuer, “Gidulo Shel Gadol,” pp. 83-84. For more on Making of a Godol and the ban on it see R. Nosson Kameneksty, “Anatomy of a Ban: the Story of the Ban on the Book Making of a Godol; R. Nosson Kamenetsky, “Making of a Ban: A Look At the Banning of Making of A Godol,” YUTorah.org (March 12, 2005) (available here); Marc B. Shapiro, “Of Books and Bans,” The Edah Journal 3:2 (2003) (available here) and his “On Re-Reading a Banned Book: Nathan Kamenetsky’s Making of a Godol,” Jewish Review of Books (Spring 2022); Dovid Lichtenstein, “Supermen or Super Men: Acknowledging the Faults and Mistakes of Gedolim,” Headlines 3: Halachic Debates of Current Events (Mekor, 2021), pp. 385-413 and his Halacha Headlines podcast on the topic.
[6] R. Shimon Schwab, Selected Writings, (1988), p. 233.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, Zakhor: Jewish History and Jewish Memory (Seattle and London, 1982), 15-16.
[9] Yerushalmi’s thesis has been the subject of much debate in academic circles. See perhaps most notably,  Robert Bonfil, “How Golden was the ‘Golden Age’ of Jewish Historiography?” History and Theory, Vol. 27, No. 4, Beiheft 27: Essays in Jewish Historiography (Dec., 1988), pp. 78-102. Also see Amos Funkenstein’s Perceptions of Jewish History (University of California Press, Berkeley, 1993); David N. Myers and Amos Funkenstein, “Remembering “Zakhor”: A Super-Commentary [with Response], History and Memory, Vol. 4, No. 2 (Fall – Winter, 1992), pp. 129-148; David Berger, “Identity, Ideology and Faith: Some Personal Reflections on the Social, Cultural and Spiritual Value of the Academic Study of Judaism,” in Howard Kreisel (ed.), Study and Knowledge in Jewish Thought (Ben-Gurion University, 2006), pp. 15-16. Thanks to Dr. Marc Herman and Dr. Tamar Ron Marvin for these sources.
[10] R. Schwab, p. 234.
[11] For a discussion of the position of the Rambam on this question see R. Zev Eleff, “The Intersection of Halakhah and History,” Beit Yitzhak, Vol. 42 (5770), p. 425n4.
[12] It should be noted that R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv is cited as reading this Gemara differently and thereby prohibits lashon harah spoken of the dead the same as the living. See R. Benzion Kook (ed.), Shiurei Maran HaGrish Elyashiv, Berakhot 19a, with nn. 53-54.
[13] Yoma, no. 531.
[14] Yoma, no. 724.
[15] Orah Hayim 606:4.
[16] Mishnah Berurah 606:16.
[17] Emet Liyaakov al Hatorah, Vayeishev, p. 194.
[18] R. Gil Student, “Toward a Halakhic Philosophy of History,” Torah Musings (March 15, 2011).
[19] Shu”t Az Nidberu 14:68. For more see R. Daniel Feldman, False Facts and True Rumors: Lashon Hara in Contemporary Society, (2015), pp. 228-230 and R. Eleff, pp. 422-431.
[20] Hafetz Hayim 1:2:2.
[21] Ibid. 1:10:2.
[22] R. Nathan Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, Vol. 1 (Improved Edition, 2004), p. xxv.
[23] Kohelet 9:6.
[24] R. Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, pp. xxiii-xxiv.
[25] R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, The Pentateuch, Genesis 12:10-13.
[26] R. Yosef Yehuda Leib Bloch, Shiurei Daat, Vayikra Bishem Hashem, p. 157.
[27] See R. Hirsch, “On Hebrew Instruction As Part of General Education,” Judaism Eternal, Vol. 1 (Soncino, 1956), p. 199; The Nineteen Letters, Letter Eighteen (Feldheim, 1995), p. 273; Pentateuch, Devarim 4:32, 6:4, and 16:1. I am indebted to Professor Yehuda (Leo) Levi for many of these citations. See his “Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch: Myth and Fact,” Tradition (Spring 1997), 31.3, p. 7 and 18.
[28] Pentateuch, Devarim 4:32.
[29] See his “Haskalah, Secular Studies and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892,” The Torah u-Madda Journal, vol. 2 (1990), pp. 76-133 (available here) and “Facing the Truths of History,” The Torah u-Madda Journal, vol. 8 (1998-1999), pp. 200-276 (available here).
[30] “Facing the Truths of History,” pp. 203-204.
[31] R. Jacob J. Schacter, “On the Morality of the Patriarchs: Must Biblical Heroes be Perfect?” in Zvi Grumet, ed., Jewish Education in Transition (2007), p. 5.
[32] Koveitz Iggerot Meiet Hahazon Ish, Vol. 2, no. 133.
[33] “Facing the Truths of History,” pp. 230-231.
[34] “Haskalah, Secular Studies,” pp. 111-112.
[35] Siddur Yavetz, Vol. 1, Introduction.
[36] Paul Johnson, A History of the Jews (1988), p. 2.
[37] R. Jonathan Sacks, “A Nation of Storytellers,” (Ki Tavo), Lessons in Leadership (2015), p. 278.
[38] R. Sacks, Morality (2020), p. 15.

New Notes Added in the Koren Talmud Bavli
Shalom Z. Berger

I would like to thank Chaim Katz for his close reading of the Koren Talmud Bavli, focusing on the new notes that were added in Tractate Berakhot, which he shared in a recent post on the Seforim Blog. His post offers an opportunity to share some of the background to the changes in the new English edition as compared to the original Steinsaltz Talmud Hebrew edition.

Perhaps the most important thing to clarify is the thinking that went into the decision to produce a new translation of the Talmud in English. What has driven much of Rav Steinsaltz’ publishing is his belief that basic Jewish texts should not be confined to a specific group in the Jewish world. Jewish texts belong to all Jews, and all Jews should be given access to the wisdom of Jewish thinkers and writers. This was the idea behind the original Steinsaltz translation of the Talmud Bavli into modern Hebrew, and it is what led to the decision to develop an English translation that would be based on it. From the current chatter on social media, it appears that the combination of the availability of this English edition of the Talmud Bavli and the publicity given to Daf Yomi study following the recent Siyum HaShas has confirmed the wisdom of this undertaking.

When the team involved in the translation first gathered to discuss what changes – if any – would be made to the English edition, many possibilities were discussed. First and foremost, was the layout itself. It would have been impossible to fit a side-by-side translation next to the tzurat hadaf of the traditional Vilna Shas, yet there was a strong feeling that the tzurat hadaf was essential. Was an interlinear translation important – following the tradition of the Steinsaltz Hebrew (and competing English) translation – or were there other, perhaps even better, ways of presenting a translation that matched the original Aramaic text? Without going into details (perhaps that is for another Seforim blog post), the decision was made to create a volume that could serve as a pedagogic tool, with the original text facing an English translation that highlights the literal translation, while interspersing language that helped with transition and clarification. A separate section had the tzurat hadaf with full punctuation and vowelization for both Gemara and Rashi, and light punctuation for Tosafot. The idea was that someone with little background in Talmud study would start with the translation, following it to learn terminology and cadence, and work their way up to the “Hebrew” side of the Gemara while having the English translation as a reference.

Beyond the standard contents, the Hebrew Steinsaltz Gemara includes a number of additions that appear on virtually every page. The bottom of the page contains iyunim and halakha, while the side bars have girsa’ot, lashon and a number of different categories, e.g., hahayyim, ha’olam, ishim, etc. Another addition that is not nearly as obvious to the reader is the replacement of censored lines, like the addition of כגון ישו הנוצרי (Berakhot 17b). I do not believe that the idea behind these additions was to produce an “academic” edition of the Talmud, rather the point was to make the Talmud as accessible as possible – to introduce the personalities of the participants in the Talmudic discussions, to clarify the realia that often leaves the reader confused by means of maps, charts and images, to show how the discussions on the Talmud page lead to a conclusion in the codes, and so forth.

Many hours were spent deciding which of these to include and whether the English edition required changes or updates. For example, there was talk of adding contemporary responsa to the halakha category (a suggestion that was ultimately rejected). The final decision was to leave out girsa’ot, to update lashon with an advisory group of academic scholars, to review the iyunim, adding new ones or removing old ones as necessary, to update the “personalities” biographies and to combine most of the different additional categories into a single “background” category. Perhaps the most obvious changes apparent to anyone who opens the Koren Talmud Bavli are the image upgrades that appear throughout the different volumes. Far from the simple sketches that appear in the original, the new images are clear, full-color (in the standard edition) representations that make these volumes aesthetically appealing and offer greater clarification of the issue at hand.

When making changes in the notes, it was essential that the Talmud being produced in English remain the “Steinsaltz Gemara” in that the new material would reflect Rav Steinsaltz’ approach to teaching and learning. As such, it was necessary for someone familiar with Rav Steinsaltz’ somewhat eclectic approach to compiling notes in his Gemara to spearhead that effort. I had just finished a multi-year project reviewing Rav Steinslatz’ notes on the entire Shas, producing a daily essay based on his teachings (see here), and I was tasked with heading up the team that was to work on the English notes in the new edition.

Our assumption was that the audience for the new English Talmud would be less familiar with concepts and personalities appearing in the Gemara than Hebrew speakers, so we aimed to make sure that when new concepts or personalities appeared, they would receive a background or personality note.

The most obvious method of adding relevant material was to “borrow” from Rav Steinsaltz’ own work – from other tractates in the Hebrew Talmud Bavli, from his Reference Guide to the Talmud and from his other published works. To assist in this, a database was created of all the notes that appeared in the original Steinsaltz Hebrew Gemara, from which notes could be readily accessed and inserted, as appropriate. Beyond that, decisions would have to be made about where to insert new notes (or change existing ones), and research would need to be done to ensure the quality and consistency of those notes.

The new audience presented other challenges, as well. Translating holy texts is a weighty matter, indeed (see b. Megillah 3a). It is well-known that select quotes from the Talmud have been used as the basis for anti-Semitic screeds since medieval times.[1] Making the Talmud available in English exposes it to an impossibly broad populace, and we believed that it would be necessary to offer background explanations to sections that could be viewed in a negative or questionable light. Heated online discussions that included the Editor-in Chief, Rav Tzvi Hersh Weinreb, other members of the editorial team, and outside experts, led to the creation of new notes that were inserted in the volumes.

What kind of notes would be added? Here are some examples:

– Notes were inserted to offer explanations for Talmudic statements that cast Gentiles in a bad light. Here we repeatedly turned to the well-known Meiri, “who explains that the Sages in the Talmud were referring to pagans whose way of life was completely lacking in ethical or moral constraints, and who for many centuries cruelly persecuted and murdered the Jews. The Meiri claims that by his time in the thirteenth century, all of humanity had adopted the moral and ethical codes of the major monotheistic religions. Therefore, statements like the one in the mishna do not apply to contemporary gentiles.”[2]

– Another example is how to deal with statements in the Gemara that appear to present beliefs that are contradicted by modern science. The following note appears in Sanhedrin 91a:

Akhbar that today is half flesh and half earth: Post-talmudic sages, ranging from Maimonides to Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, have asserted that Talmudic beliefs about the natural world were an outgrowth of the prevailing views of the wider society in Talmudic times. The Sages of the Talmud lived many centuries before the development of modern science and were influenced by contemporaneous scientific theories. Therefore, their notions of the natural world, some with halakhic implication, are at times inconsistent with modern science. In the case of the creature discussed here, the Sages may have heard reports of a creature of this kind, or may even themselves have observed a creature emerging from the earth that superficially appeared to be half-flesh and half-earth. It is apparent that some commentaries (Rashi, Meiri) hold that it is a product of spontaneous generation, a phenomenon that was universally accepted well in the nineteenth century but is rejected by modern science.

On the one hand, this type of note is typical of the Steinsaltz realia background notes that attempt to make the Gemara explicable to contemporary understanding. At the same time, it does depart from the usual approach by recognizing the fact that scientific beliefs appearing in the Talmud may be incorrect.

– We also added notes to explain passages in the Gemara that are hard to understand from the perspective of the natural world. As an example, the Gemara in Shevuot 23a quotes a Baraita that teaches: “A priest who ate pressed figs from Ke’ila or drank honey or milk and then entered the Temple and performed the sacrificial rites is liable for violating the prohibition against conducting the Temple service while intoxicated.” An existing Hebrew language Steinsaltz note suggests that the figs from Ke’ila may have caused intoxication because their high sugar levels could lead to fermentation that produced alcohol. No mention is made about how honey or milk might lead to intoxication. In this case, the new note was based on a suggestion made by Rav Menachem Kasher in his Torah Shelemah,[3] leading to the following:

Milk can also ferment, and in some cultures it is common to drink fermented alcoholic milk beverages known as Kefir. In the Bible there are references to the intoxicating powers of milk (see Judges 4:19). Another possibility is that the word halav here, rather than denoting milk, is referring to white date wine. This usage appears a number of times in rabbinic literature. The Jerusalem Talmud (Shabbat 19:5) discusses halav in the context of teruma, which can consist only of produce. Similarly, the Targum translates the word halav in the Song of Songs (5:1) as referring to white wine (Torah Shelema).

– As noted above, perhaps the most attractive additions were the enhanced images. Accompanying the above-mentioned note were new images of figs, together with a map of Israel showing the location of Ke’ila. On more than one occasion, I received a request from editors asking for suggestions of images that could be added to tractates that were lacking visual enhancements to the text.

Tractate Berakhot, which is what Chaim Katz focused on in his review, posed a problem of a different order. Simply put, Berakhot has a lot of words on each page.⁴ This led to a situation where the original Hebrew Steinsaltz, which limited to a single amud to a two page spread, had little room for explanatory notes, given that the text of the Gemara, Rashi and the Hebrew translation took up almost all the room on the page. This was especially true on pages of aggada, where the Gemara text took up even more room on the page, so that on pages where Rav Steinsaltz’ commentary would have been especially helpful, there was little to be found. The English translation pages did not have these limitations – indeed, English translation guaranteed that there would be quite a bit of “white space” – and it became necessary to add material that matched Rav Steinsaltz’ writings, which include Jewish philosophy, kabbalah and hassidut. Most of the new notes in the tractate have their roots in this perceived need.

As Chaim Katz writes, many of the new notes are from classical commentaries on the aggadic portions of Gemara. While it is correct that the vast majority of the original Hebrew notes in Berakhot are from classical sources, there are some contemporary scholars referred to in those notes (e.g., 28b, where Rav Isaac HaLevi Herzog is brought alongside Rav Sa’adia Ga’on and others in explaining why Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai perceived that King Hezekiah was coming to escort him to the next world).

In consultation with Rav Steinsaltz – who was involved in several other projects and was unable to turn his attention to writing a new commentary on these sections of Berakhot – I suggested Rav Kook’s Ein Aya as an approach that would dovetail nicely with Rav Steinsaltz’ own writings and an ideal source for the kind of ideas that would enhance the study of the tractate, both on their own merits and by introducing an important thinker to the English reading public. Previously, the Ein Aya had changed my personal experience when I taught Berakhot, inasmuch as contemporary questions on aggadic portions of the Gemara that go undiscussed by the classic commentaries are given voice by Rav Kook. Studying this work, choosing which pieces would engage the contemporary English reader, and distilling them into concise prose for inclusion in the new volume, was a challenging labor of love. As Chaim Katz notes, the Ein Aya is considerably longer than standard commentaries. Furthermore, Rav Kook’s language is difficult and often obscure. I will leave it to the reader to decide whether I succeeded in capturing and conveying Rav Kook’s ideas accurately in the limited space available.

After almost 20 years of working on various Steinsaltz-related Talmud projects efforts, this is a fitting time for me to express my appreciation to Rav Adin Steinsaltz and to Rav Meni Even-Yisrael for having been given the opportunity to play a role in fulfilling Rav Steinsaltz’ vision of spreading Torah to as wide a spectrum of Jews as possible.

Rabbi Dr. Shalom Berger szberger@gmail.com served as Senior Content Editor for the Koren Talmud Bavli project. He is now involved in developing English language educational programming for Herzog College’s Tanakh department.