The Agunah Problem, Part 1; Incarceration and Free Speech

The Agunah Problem, Part 1; Incarceration and Free Speech
Marc B. Shapiro

1. There has been a lot of discussion recently about the International Beit Din and its rulings allowing certain marriages to be voided, thus freeing women from being agunot. As is to be expected, this beit din has been subject to strong attacks, even of a personal nature, despite the fact that the members of the beit din are recognized talmidei hakhamim. These dayanim are intent on keeping everything above board and have published the reasoning behind their rulings, thus giving opponents the opportunity to engage in halakhic argumentation.
From what I have read, the International Beit Din has three approaches to freeing agunot. One is annul the marriage based on mekah taut, i.e., there was some problem with the husband that would have prevented the wife from marrying him had she known of it. This is a perfectly valid mechanism that has been used by many poskim, such as R. Zvi Pesah Frank, R. Moshe Feinstein, and R. Avraham Shapiro. Although one can, of course, criticize the application of mekah taut to a particular case, the mechanism itself is part of standard halakhic operating procedure and the International Beit Din is well within its rights to use mekah taut when possible. 

The second approach is to find a problem in the marriage ceremony itself, meaning that the marriage never took place. For example, one can show that there were no proper witnesses to the marriage. Here again, one can disagree with particular rulings, but not with the basic approach.

The third approach is that of get zikui, which in the current context means that the beit din issues a divorce to the woman on behalf of the man, even if the man has not approved of this and even if is against his will.[1] While there has been a good deal of discussion of this approach, I can’t find on the International Beit Din’s website that any marriage has actually been dissolved by using this mechanism. Unlike the other two approaches, there is little precedent for use of a get zikui, which means that its chances of being generally accepted are nil.
The use of a get zikui is actually suggested by R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, Seridei Esh, vol. 3, no. 25. In fact, R. Weinberg’s responsum is the most detailed discussion of get zikui but surprisingly it is not included on the International Beit Din’s website. It must be noted, however, that R. Weinberg is only prepared to suggest a get zikui if the husband would want the get to be given. However, in the contemporary agunah situation the problem is that the husbands do not want to give the wives a get, and concerning these cases R. Weinberg writes: נפל היסוד של כתיבת גט מטעם זכי’
Is there another possible approach? How about a heter meah rabbanim for a married woman if she can’t get a get? I know you are thinking that this is crazy, but look at the following page, which comes from the medieval work Etz Hayyim by R. Jacob Hazan.[2] 
As you can see from the very end of the page, it states that the rabbis required a man to give a get if he contracted a marriage באיסור, which in this case means he was already committed to marry someone else. Then it says that if this man disappeared the woman can be freed with a heter meah rabbanim (actually, it says ish, not rabbanim, but I don’t want to get into that now). This is a very radical position, that a woman can be freed by a heter meah rabbanim, and it is attested to nowhere else. Not surprisingly, R. Israel Brodie, the editor of Etz Hayyim,[3] calls attention to this unusual halakhic position. R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin also refers to this novel idea.[4]
But are Rabbis Brodie and Zevin correct? Israel Moshe Ta-Shma and Shlomo Zalman Havlin say no, and see this as a serious mistake. According to them, the last case discussed in Etz Hayyim has nothing to do with the man who married באיסור but refers back to a case mentioned earlier on the page of a man who was only committed to marry a woman. If this man then disappears, מתירין הבחורה במאה איש. In other words, the woman is released from any obligation to marry the missing man, but this has nothing to do with a woman already married. I will let the readers decide for themselves who is correct.[5]
As for the problem of women not being able to get a divorce because the man refuses, there are some important points that must be made which I don’t think everyone is aware of. Today, many people assume that a woman who wants out of a marriage, for whatever reason, has that right. After all, a woman is not a prisoner and a husband should not force her to be married to him if she doesn’t want to. However, this viewpoint is very much a modern approach.[6] If you look at the standard halakhic sources you will find that there is no obligation for a man to give his wife a divorce just because she wants it. Ever since R. Gershom, the same situation is also found in reverse, namely, a husband is not allowed to divorce his wife against her will just because he no longer wishes to be married to her. This approach to ending marriage is very much in line with how secular society use to operate before the introduction of no fault divorce.
Significantly, Maimonides does require the husband to give his wife a divorce if she says she no longer wishes to live with him.[7] R. Kafih elaborates on the wisdom of Maimonides’ position, and here are some of his important words[8]:
ברוך ה’ א-להי ישראל אשר הזריח לנו את המאור הגדול הזה אשר במבטו החודר פלש למעמקי הדורות וצפה גם את דורנו הפרוץ לבשתינו ולמגנת לבבנו, אוי לעינים שכך רואות ואוי לאזנים שכך שומעות, ואלו ראו שאר חכמי הדורות את דורנו היו חותמים על פסקו של רבנו בשתי ידים. כי המציאות הוכיחה צדקת רבנו, שכל התובעת ג”פ בימינו וטוענת מאיס עלאי, לא רק עיניה נתנה באחר אלא היא כבר בחיק האחר או האחרים וחביטא קמייהו כמברכתא, ולפיכך מצוה לכוף את הבעל המתעקש בכל כפיה אפשרית כדי להפריד בין הדבקים ויפה שעה אחת קודם.
However, it is the view in opposition to Maimonides that became the standard position, and it is this view that is recorded in the Shulhan Arukh[9] and followed by batei din. According to this approach, even if a woman says she can no longer live with her husband, he is not obligated to give her a get. What this can lead to is most vividly illustrated by the movie Gett, available here to watch for free for Amazon Prime members.
I have been told that the Beth Din of America operates on the principle that if one of the parties wants a divorce, for whatever reason, and there is no chance for reconciliation, then the Beit Din will instruct the other spouse to comply. But this is not how many other batei din operate. We have to be honest and acknowledge that the problem many women face is not because the dayanim are cruel or anti-women, but that it is Jewish law itself, or rather an interpretation of Jewish law, that is preventing them from receiving their divorces. 

I feel it is necessary to stress this since we can now better appreciate why certain rabbis have attempted to find solutions within Jewish law to the contemporary agunah problem. Many on the right don’t see why this is necessary and why batei din cannot just follow Jewish law as it has operated until now instead of looking for “solutions”. These people might not realize the difficult situation this puts women in, a situation that might have been tolerable years ago but for more and more Orthodox Jews that is no longer the case. On the other hand, many on the left think that it is a simple matter to solve the agunah problem, and that it is just cruel and insensitive rabbis preventing this. This too is a distortion as the rabbis’ hands are often tied by halakhah, and this remains the case no matter how much of a “rabbinic will” they have.

Let me illustrate what I am talking about. As an example of how sentiments have changed over the centuries, here is a passage from R. Hayyim Benveniste that I have cited in two previous posts. In Keneset ha-Gedolah, Even ha-Ezer 154, Hagahot Beit Yosef no. 59, in discussing when we can force a husband to give a divorce, R. Benveniste writes:
ובעל משפט צדק ח”א סי’ נ”ט כתב דאפי’ רודף אחריה בסכין להכותה אין כופין אותו לגרש ואפי’ לו’ לו שחייב להוציא
Can anyone imagine a posek, from even the most right-wing community, advocating such a viewpoint today? The logic behind this position, as can be seen by examining the original responsum in Mishpat Tzedek, is that even if the man is running after her with the knife, we don’t assume that he will actually kill her. He must be doing it just to scare her, and that is not enough of a reason to force him to divorce her, or even to tell him that he is obligated to do so. And if we are wrong, and he really does kill her? I guess the reply would be that this isn’t anything we could have anticipated even if we saw the knife in his hand. This example shows how some poskim from prior generations made it extremely difficult for women to receive a divorce.
Let me give a few examples from more recent years. In 1967 the Supreme Rabbinic Court, consisting of Rabbis Yitzhak Nissim, Betzalel Zolty, and Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, concluded as follows.[10]
כשם שאין כופין בעל לגרש את אשתו בגלל טענת מאיס עלי, כך אין מחייבין את הבעל לגרש עקב טענה זו
This approach, which repeats itself again and again, completely undermines the assumption so many have that a man is obligated to give his wife a get when she no longer wishes to be married to him.
Look again at the conclusion of Rabbis Nissim, Zolty and Elyashiv. It couldn’t be any clearer that this woman is not an agunah. Their conclusion also contradicts the definition of agunah provided by JOFA (see here p. 22).

AGUNAH (pl: AGUNOT) A married woman who may not remarry because the death of her husband has not been verified or because (for whatever reason) she is unable to obtain a get from her husband.

It is simply not true that a woman unable to obtain a get from her husband “for whatever reason” is an agunah. I wish it were different, and I wish Maimonides’ ruling carried the day. But that is not the case, which means that an agunah has to be defined as one whose husband refuses to issue a get after ordered to do so by a beit din.
R. Zvi Hirsch Grodzinski, perhaps the leading talmudist and halakhist in the United States in the early years of the twentieth century, discusses a case where a woman committed adultery (or only claimed to have done so; the matter is not clear, but for this post I am assuming she actually did commit adultery). She then wished to get divorced from her husband.[11] She must have had some connection to Judaism as she requested that her husband give her a get. I think most people would assume that in such a case, where the woman will no longer be living with her husband, that it is essential that the husband give her a get so that she is no longer committing adultery. With the get she can repent and move on with her life. Hopefully, she will be able to find another husband and live as pious Jew.
Yet just because most of us might intuitively feel this way, this does not mean all halakhists have to agree. R. Grodzinski concludes that the husband cannot be forced to give the get. To use today’s popular language, this meant that he was allowed to keep her as an agunah for the rest of her life. Of course, R. Grodzinski would deny that the woman was an agunah. Despite the woman’s adultery, I think most people will still be troubled reading the following words from R. Grodzinski, from which we see that he saw no problem in condemning her to live the rest of her life without receiving a get.
כ”ש בנ”ד שנאסרה עליו ע”י זנות דאין כופין אותו לגרשה בגט, כיון שהיא נתנה אצבע בין שיניה, וגרמה לעצמה במעשיה הרעים והוא לא עשה און, ולמה נכוף אותו ליתן לה גט, לא תבעל לו ותוצרר אלמנות חיות כל ימיה, הלא אינה מצווה על פו”ר, וכי בשביל שהיא הולכת אחרי שרירות לבה וזנתה תחתיו נכוף אותו לגרשה
I don’t think you need to be a member of JOFA or Open Orthodox to be upset by what R. Grodzinski writes, as it probably closed off any chance of repentance on the part of the woman. He also views the withholding of the get as a suitable form of punishment for the woman. Not being obligated in the commandment to procreate, she can be kept a “living widow”.[12]
For another noteworthy example, here is the conclusion of a 1953 Jerusalem Beit Din decision, by the dayanim R. Jacob Ades, R. Bezalel Zolty, and R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv:[13]
החשש כי האשה תצא לתרבות רעה אם הבעל לא יתן לה גט, אינו משמש יסוד לחייב את הבעל לתת לה גט
This decision from the Jerusalem Beit Din has another passage that is very troubling to me. I find it hard to believe that any Modern Orthodox beit din could conclude in this fashion, and it is precisely attitudes such as this that convinced women that the rabbinic courts in Israel were stacked against them.[14]
הא דברועה זונות יש לחייבו לתת לה גט, היינו היכא שהאשה היתה רוצה לחיות אתו, אלמלא שהבעל הוא רועה זונות, במקרה זה יש מקום לחייבו לגרשה כשהיא דורשת גט, משום שרועה זונות יאבד הון וסופו לא יהיה בידו לפרנסה, וגם משום שעצם היותו רועה זונות נוגע לה שהוא גורע מעונתה, וגם יש חשש של סכנה לחיות אתו, אבל במקרה שהאשה מורדת בבעלה ולא רוצה לחיות אתו בגלל איזו סבה שהיא, ואחרי זה נהיה הבעל רועה זונות אף שיש עבירה בידו, מכל מקום אין לחייבו משום זה לתת לה גט, כיון שהיא מורדת בו הרי הוא פטור ממזונותיה ושוב אין החשש שרועה זונות יאבד הון ולא יהיה בידו לפרנסה, וגם אין הטעם שברועה זונות הדבר נוגע לה שהוא גורע מעונתה וגם יש חשש סכנה לחיות אתו, דהלא היא מורדת בו ולא רוצה בכלל לחיות אתו.
What is a woman supposed to do in a case like this? After learning that her husband frequented prostitutes she had even more reason not to want to return to him, and yet the beit din held that in such a case the husband did not have to give her a get since her initial reason for wanting to be divorced was something else. Again we see that a man can, if he chooses, prevent his wife from being free.
Also of interest are the three reasons the court suggests why a woman would not be happy if her husband was going to prostitutes: 1. He will be spending their money, 2. He will be using them as his sexual outlet and will not want to sleep with his wife, 3. He could pass on a disease to her.
While it is true that a wife’s anger will include reasons 1 and 3, these are not the main reasons she will be upset. For example, the husband could be as rich as a former New York governor and have used protection, yet the wife will still be devastated for the simple reason that his actions were a terrible breach of trust. More than anything else, modern marriages are based on trust. As for reason 2, it is hard to imagine that there is any modern woman who, if she discovered that her husband was going to prostitutes, would want to be divorced because of this reason.
Where did the dayanim get these three reasons, as surprisingly, they don’t tell us? I found reason 1 cited in the Beit Yosef, Even ha-Ezer 154 (towards the end, s.v. מצאתי כתוב בשם ספר אגודה). It originates in R. Alexander Susslein Ha-Kohen’s Sefer Agudah: Yevamot, no. 77.[15] Reasons 2 and 3 are found in the Arukh ha-Shulhan, Even ha-Ezer 154:16.[16]
These reasons undoubtedly reflect a different understanding of marriage, one which does not see the modern romantic notion of trust as the centerpiece of a marriage. Since people’s psychology has changed over the centuries, I don’t think that the reasons offered by medieval authorities operating in a completely different environment can determine what modern women will regard as “deal-breakers” when it comes to marriage. If a modern woman has different expectations of what marriage is than what people had years ago, I would think that this must be taken into account by a beit din in determining what situations require ordering the husband to give a get.
In fact, Sefer Agudah cites another reason why the court compels a husband visiting prostitutes to divorce his wife.
פעם אחת בא מעשה לידי לאה טוענת על ראובן שהיה רועה זונות והוא כופר. ופסקתי שאם תביא עדים שהוא כן יוציא ויתן כתובה. איבעית אימא קרא, איבעית אימא גמרא, איבעית אימא סברא . . . ואיבעית אימא סברא דגרע מכל הנהו דפרק המדיר.
In the final words just quoted (and underlined), Sefer Agudah is referring to this Mishnah in Ketubot 77a:

ואלו שכופין אותו להוציא מוכה שחין ובעל פוליפוס והמקמץ והמצרף נחושת והבורסי בין שהיו עד שלא נישאו ובין משנישאו נולדו ועל כולן אמר רבי מאיר אע”פ שהתנה עמה יכולה היא שתאמר סבורה הייתי שאני יכולה לקבל ועכשיו איני יכולה לקבל. 

The following are compelled to divorce [their wives]: A man who is afflicted with boils, or has a polypus, or gathers [objectionable matter] or is a coppersmith or a tanner, whether they were [in such conditions or positions] before they married or whether they arose after they had married and concerning all these R. Meir said: Although the man made a condition with her [that she acquiesces in his defects] she may nevertheless plead, “I thought I could endure him, but now I cannot endure him.”

This final reason given by Sefer Agudah is based on sevara and not on a rabbinic text.[17] I don’t know why it was not cited by the dayanim, but it supports the point I made that the beit din need not be bound by examples given in the Talmud or other rabbinic sources. Rather, it can evaluate the current psychology of women and how they regard marriage.

For another example of how different current understandings are from what they used to be, look at this responsum of R. Zvi Hirsch Ashkenazi, Hakham Zvi, no. 133.
It deals with a man who committed adultery with a married woman, and his wife therefore wishes to divorce him. In such a case, contemporary Orthodox Jews of all persuasions would agree with the general view in society, that if the wife can forgive her husband and remain married, then it is no one else’s business what goes on in their lives. However, contemporary Orthodox Jews would also agree that if the betrayal is so devastating that the wife will never be able to trust her husband again, and she wants a divorce, then the husband should be required to give the divorce. To paraphrase what the Sefer Agudah said, this is certainly on the level of the things for which the Mishnah in Ketubot requires a husband to grant his wife if she requests if.
Yet the Hakham Zvi refuses to require the man to issue the divorce. One of the things he says is that even the Sefer Agudah would agree that in order to force a divorce the husband has to have been given prior warning not to visit prostitutes. In the case the Hakham Zvi was asked about, he says that there is another reason not to require the get, and that is that the man claims that he wishes to repent. So here we have a case where a man commits adultery, his wife cannot accept this and requests a divorce, and the man refuses and says he will repent. Today people would say that this woman is an agunah, as she is trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want to be in with a husband who cheated on her. Yet the Hakham Zvi rules in favor of the man that no divorce is required.
One can find numerous examples where poskim rule similarly. Here, for instance, is a decision of the Tel Aviv Beit Din.[18]
I think people will be shocked to learn that a woman who wants to divorce her husband because he went to a prostitute is being told by the beit din that she must stay with him if he promises not to do it again. But this only illustrates that the so-called agunah problem is inherent to the halakhic system, which according to the dominant interpretation does not recognize that a woman should be able to exit a marriage if she feels she can no longer live with her husband. There are literally hundreds of examples in the responsa literature and beit din proceedings where a woman is told that even though she wants to be divorced, there is no obligation on her husband to give her a get. Isn’t this where poskim must put their efforts to see if changes can be made? What a woman will tolerate today is not necessarily the same thing as what the Sages and earlier poskim assumed, and this is a point that was already made by halakhic authorities in prior generations.[19]
To further illustrate my point, R. Joseph Karo states that even if a husband is beating his wife he can’t be forced to divorce her.[20] She will obviously live apart from him, but R. Karo does not accept the view of some earlier authorities that the husband can be forced to issue her a divorce. This means that the woman is what we would today call an agunah, but the problem we are facing is not just about an evil man but arises from the halakhah itself. As we have just seen, according to R. Karo it is the halakhah that prevents us from forcing a husband to divorce his wife, even if he beats her.
In this case, R. Moses Isserles strongly rejects R. Karo’s opinion and states that we can force a man beating his wife to divorce her.[21] The passage I have underlined is of particular significance regarding the point I made previously.[22]
ואיני רואה בזב דבריו כלל דכדאי הם הגאונים לסמוך עליהם כל שכן שהרמב”ן ומהר”מ הסכימו בתשובותיהן בענין הכאת אשתו והביאו ראיות ברורות לדבריהם גם הסברא מסכמת עמהן ומה שלא הוזכרו בדברי הפוסקים אפשר לומר שהיה פשוט בעיניהם וקל וחומר הוא מהאומר איני זן וכו’
In deciding which opinion to follow, that of R. Karo or R. Isserles, I think that a point made by R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg is relevant. He states that if there is a dispute among earlier halakhic authorities, we should reject the view that will bring the Torah into disrepute in people’s eyes.[23]
ואגלה להדר”ג [הגרא”י אונטרמן] מה שבלבי: שמקום שיש מחלוקת הראשונים צריכים הרבנים להכריע נגד אותה הדעה, שהיא רחוקה מדעת הבריות וגורמת לזלזול וללעג נגד תוה”ק

Can anyone deny that in the dispute between R. Karo and R. Isserles, the sort of consideration R. Weinberg was referring to would force dayanim, even Sephardic dayanim, to decide in accord with R. Isserles? In today’s day and age, it would be simply incomprehensible to people that a man who regularly beats his wife cannot be forced to give her a get.
There is another noteworthy decision given by the Supreme Rabbinic Court, again consisting of Rabbis Yitzhak Nissim, Bezalel Zolty, and Yosef Shalom Elyashiv.[24] The case was that a married man left his first wife and married another wife. The problem was that he never divorced the first wife, making him a bigamist. Furthermore, he refused to give his first wife a get. The woman therefore turned to the Beit Din asking them to force him to do so. The conclusion of the Beit Din was that while in this case, as opposed to the ones we saw earlier, the man was indeed obligated to divorce his wife, nevertheless the Beit Din could not force him to do so. Since the Beit Din ruled that he was obligated to give the get, his not doing so would make the woman an agunah in the eyes of the court. But since the Beit Din felt that it was unable to force the man to issue the get, who knows how long (maybe her entire life) the woman was forced to remain an agunah. Unfortunately for the woman, R. Shaul Yisraeli, also a member of the Supreme Rabbinic Court, was not one of the dayanim in this case, since he wrote to R. Elyashiv arguing that the court should indeed force the husband to give the get.[25]
Since I mentioned R. Weinberg earlier in this post, take a look at this responsum from Seridei Esh, vol. 3, no. 29.
R. Weinberg was asked about a man who was sent to jail for sexual abuse of young girls. Understandably, his wife wanted a divorce. The rabbi didn’t know what to do and therefore wrote to R. Weinberg. He mentions that he never had to deal with a case of sexual abuse and doesn’t know how to relate to it from a Jewish law perspective. He also assumes that there was no actual sexual relations but only fondling.
R. Weinberg, relying on the Hakham Zvi, states that the husband cannot be forced to divorce his wife, since he was never warned and there was no testimony in a beit din. He also says that one cannot rely on testimony given in a secular court, and makes the valid point that during that time, the Nazi era, there was a great deal of anti-Semitism and pleasure in making the Jews look bad.
None of this could have been of much comfort to the woman. We have no idea about her relationship with her husband. She might have already suspected him of being a pervert, or when he was arrested it might have clarified certain things that she wondered about. She might have confronted him after the arrest and seeing his reaction to her questions she knew he was guilty. Whatever the case, she no longer wished to remain married to someone she believed to be a sexual abuser. R. Weinberg was as open-minded a posek as one could imagine, yet even he was of the opinion that the husband could not be compelled to divorce his wife.
Today, if someone accused of sexual abuse refused to issue his wife a get, rabbis in the United States would call for protests in front of his house. Yet R. Weinberg does not see this as warranted. I think one of the most difficult things for people to grasp in his responsum, and in that of the Hakham Zvi, is the need for the husband to be warned. We are not talking about sentencing him in a beit din, where warning is a technical requirement, but whether or not the woman wants to live with him any more. In the two cases we have just seen, the issues of concern to the wives are one man’s visits to a prostitute and the other’s sexual abuse of children. Neither wife cared if her husband was “warned” in beit din since the offense is the same to her either before or after the “warning”.
Nevertheless, the notion that the husband has to be warned is found elsewhere as well. For example, regarding a husband who beats his wife, R. Moses Isserles, Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 154:3, states that according to some such a man can be forced to give his wife a get. The Vilna Gaon explains, in words that lead to a liberal understanding of when a man can be forced to divorce his wife:
יש אומרים שכופין כו’: שאפילו על שאר דברים שאין לה צער כל כך כגון המדיר שלא תלך לבית אביה או לבית האבל כו’ [כתובות עא ע”ב] או שלא תשאל נפה וכברה כו’ [שם, עב ע”א], כל שכן במצערה בגופה. תשובת הרמב”ן סימן ק”ב.
Yet after stating that some say that a man who beats his wife can be forced to divorce her (an opinion he himself held, as we saw earlier in the quotation from Darkhei Moshe [26]), R. Isserles adds that a prior warning is required: ובלבד שמתרין בו תחילה פעם אחת או שתים.

Now that we have seen some of the real halakhic difficulties that stand at the center of the so-called agunah problem, in the next post I will offer a simple suggestion that I think can solve at least some of the cases.

2. Someone who read my earlier posts that discussed various punishments ordered by Jewish courts asked me about a quotation from R. Shlomo Yaffe, dean of the Institute of American and Talmudic Law, which offers a different perspective. See here. Before even getting to the particular quotation, let me say that I have real problems with some of what was said (or at least reported to have been said) at the recent conference on Jewish law reported on the link just given. For example, Rabbi Yaffe was asked, “If there were no First Amendment would we still have the freedom of speech?” The only correct answer has to be that without the First Amendment our freedom of speech will be endangered, and it could even become illegal to speak publicly about certain laws in the Torah (e.g., homosexuality), as this could be categorized as “hate speech”. But instead, Rabbi Yaffe replied: “Absolutely . . . We know that God had freedom of speech. He spoke and the world came into being. . . . We have free will and the ability to express ourselves.” How does this bit of darshanut answer a serious question about the importance of the First Amendment?
Professor Jeremy Waldron stated at the conference, “People have a right to be protected from vicious defamations upon them on account of their religion. So if somebody says, ‘All Muslims are terrorists,’ we believe [Muslims] have a right to be protected against that defamation.”[27] This is exactly why we need a First Amendment and why free speech must be protected. If it became illegal for some idiot to say, “All Muslims are terrorists,” then the next thing would be punishing people for saying that “Muslims are more likely to support terrorism than adherents of other religions,” and bans on the drawing of Muhammad’s picture and insulting the Prophet would not be far behind because after all, these are viewed by Muslims as defamations of their religion. (Muslims in Europe have already demanded that those insulting Muhammad not be protected by free speech laws.)
In other words, giving an inch in this matter would open up the floodgates and would be the end of free speech in America. As I already mentioned, this would also be a big problem for the traditional Jewish community, since it is only the constitutional guarantee of free speech that prevents “progressive” groups from legislating against “hate speech” found in religious communities. Based on the quote from Waldron, I would assume that he is a supporter of the “speech codes” that at one time were so popular at universities, until people began to realize the stifling effect they actually had on free speech. For those who are having trouble remembering what they learnt so many years ago: The First Amendment was created precisely in order to protect unpopular speech.
The particular quote from Rabbi Yaffe that I was asked about is the following: “In general, Jewish law and tradition are extremely opposed to incarceration as fundamentally immoral unless it is to protect someone from inflicting real harm on another human being.” What this means is that incarceration is only designed to protect the innocent, but Jewish law and tradition does not recognize incarceration as a means of punishment. This statement is simply false. Let us remember that incarceration must be seen as an improvement over the physical punishments I have detailed in earlier posts. Given the choice between lashing people and mutilating them, certainly incarceration is preferable. (See also what I wrote here.) As for incarceration itself, the Rambam states as follows in Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Sanhedrin 24:9:
יש לכפות ידיים ורגליים ולאסור בבית האסורין
What this means is that a judge may bind a prisoner’s hands and feet and may imprison him. Punishment is one of the reasons that this is done, as Maimonides explains ibid. 24:10. Although there is nothing in the Torah about imprisonment, it was used as a punishment throughout Jewish history.[28] Simhah Assaf, who writes a good deal about Jewish prisons in Ha-Onshin Aharei Hatimat ha-Talmud, pp. 25ff, informs us that such prisons were found in Babylonia, Spain, Italy, Moravia, Poland, and Lithuania. One can also add Hungary and Bohemia to this list. According to Assaf, it is only in France and Germany that we don’t find Jewish prisons.[29] In addition to actual prisons, we also find something else: 

A symbolic imprisonment, which served as a means for expiation as well as one of humiliation and embarrassment, consisted of shackling a suspected murderer, for example, during a service. He was to have his hands as well as his body chained. This was apparently a tradition received from R. Judah the Pious.[30]

[1] See R. J. David Bleich’s discussion of get zikui in Tradition 35:4 (2001), available here. See also the responsum of R. Solomon David Kahane in Sefer ha-Yovel Karnot Tzaddik (Kefar Habad, 1992), pp. 253ff. For the Safed beit din’s decision to issue a get to a woman whose husband was in a vegetative state, see here, and see the beit din’s defense of its decision here. An entire book was published in opposition to this decision; see here.
[2] Vol. 2, p. 236.
[3] Vol. 3, p. xi.
[4] See Sinai 60 (1967), p. 319.
[5] See Havlin in Ha-Ma’yan (Tevet 5728), pp. 33-34 n. 14.
[6] In previous posts I have cited numerous examples that show that the notion that men and women are equal is also a modern idea. The standard traditional view was that a woman is secondary to her husband and under his authority. I mention this here only because I recently found a very interesting formulation that is relevant to what we will be discussing. In R. Hayyim Aryeh Leib ben Joseph Hayyim, Sha’ar Bat Rabim (Warsaw, 1900), parashat Tazria, p. 24a-b, he explains why a woman, who is “enslaved to her husband as a slave,” does not choose to run away like other slaves do.
והוא ימשול בך: לעבוד עבודתו. ואעפ”י שהיא משועבדת לבעל כעבד ודרך העבד לברוח מאדונו כדי שלא להשתעבד מ”מ גזר ה’ עלי’ שתחפוץ להשתעבד לבעלה כשפחה מדה כנגד מדה כי חוה נתנה גם לבעלה ויאכל במצותה לכן נענשה שלא תהיה היא עוד מצוה עליו אלא הוא יצוה עלי’ כל רצונו כן כתב רמב”ן.

[7] Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Ishut 14:8.
[8] Sefer Nashim, vol. 1, pp. 306-307.
[9] See Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 77:2.
[10] Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol.  7, p. 3 (emphasis in original).
[11] Ha-Measef 9 (5664), nos. 1, 24.
[12] Ha-Measef 9 (5664), p. 1b. Many of his words are taken from She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rosh 43:8.
[13] Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 1, p. 139. R. Eliezer Waldenberg had a different approach. See Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 4, p. 109:
מכל האמור יש כר נרחב לדון בדבר כפיה לגרש במקום שישנו בטענת המאיס עלי אמתלא מבוררת, ובית הדין רואה צורך השעה לכוף את הבעל לגרש כדי שלא תצא האשה לתרבות רעה.
[14] Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 1, p. 141. A decision directly opposed to this was given in 1979 by the Supreme Rabbinical Court. The dayanim were R. Mordechai Eliyahu, R. Joseph Kafih, and R. Shaul Yisraeli. See Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 12, p. 25:
אפילו אם נעשה “רועה זונות” לאחר שאשתו עזבה אותו אין לחייבה לחזור ולחיות אמו.

[15] The Sefer Agudah’s ruling is cited in R. Moses Isserles, Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 154:1. However, R. Isserles does not provide the Sefer Agudah’s reason, only his conclusion that a man who visits prostitutes can be forced to divorce his wife.
[16] It appears that the Arukh ha-Shulhan derived reason 2 from a formulation in the Sefer Agudah. However, R. Yosef Goldberg argues that the Arukh ha-Shulhan is mistaken and that the Sefer Agudah cannot be seen as a source for this reason. See Goldberg, “Teviat Ishah le-Hayev et Ba’alah be-Get,” Zekhor le-Avraham  (2000), vol. 2, pp. 669ff.
[17] See also R. Simeon ben Zemah Durah, She’elot u-Teshuvot Tashbetz, vol. 2, no. 8:
ואפילו לכוף אותו להוציא יש לדון מקל וחומר דבעל פוליפוס, דהשתא מפני ריח הפה כופין, מפני צער תדיר שהוא מר ממות לא כל שכן.

[18] Piskei Din shel Batei ha-Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 8, p. 254.
[19] For a detailed discussion of the matter, see R. Avishai Teherani, Amudei Mishpat, vol. 1, Even ha-Ezer, no. 12. R. Teherani’s own conclusion is as follows:
המכה את אשתו, ואין סכנת נפשות לאשה, אין כופין אותו להוציא, שיש לחוש שלא נכשל בגט מעושה, אכן אם יש לאשה סכנת נפשות אמיתית, כופין אותו לגרשה בטרם יהרגנה, ויש לדיין ליתן עיניו בזה הרבה, כי כבר היו מעשים מעולם [!] ברצח האשה
(emphasis added). This is hardly a position that will find a sympathetic ear among most contemporary Orthodox Jews. R. Hanan Aflalo, Asher Hanan, vols. 3-4, no. 77, adopts an entirely different tone. With regard to the matter of a woman who wants a divorce because her husband visited prostitutes, unlike the decisions already mentioned, R Aflalo shows a real understanding of how a modern woman relates to this sort of thing. He writes as follows (p. 421):  
מאסה בו על עצם המחשבה שגופו היה דבק בגופן של נשים אחרות במעשה הניאוף והטינוף שבו, ובכך נגעלת מעצם המחשבה לכך לחזור עמו לחיי אישות ולשלום בית. ובאמת שמילים וטענות אלו יש בהם ממש.
R. Uriel Lavi, av beit din of the Safed beit din that issued the controversial get to a woman whose husband was in a vegetative state (see note 1), and who has been villified in the haredi world and through their pressure kept off the Supreme Rabbinic Court (see here), has the same sympathetic approach as R. Aflalo. See his Ateret Devorah, vol. 2, p. 644:
חיוב הבעל בגט הוא מפני המאיסות שבמעשיו. אמנם בעלמא באומרת מאיס עלי אין כופין גירושין, אך כשמאיסות זו היא כה חמורה ונובעת ממעשיו הנלוזים של הבעל, ואין זו בעיה חריגה של האשה, אלא מאיסות המוכרת והמקובלת בנסיבות אלו אצל כל הנשים, יש לכפות את הבעל.
It is precisely rabbis with this type of modern understanding that can provide a solution to the problem we have been discussing, as we will see in the next post.
[20] Beit Yosef, Even ha-Ezer 154 end, s.v.מצאתי בתשובת רבינו שמחה 
[21] Darkhei Moshe, Even ha-Ezer 154:21 (The text is from the Machon Yerushalayim edition which has added material from Darkhei Moshe ha-Arokh).
[22] R. Isserles also adds the following which is relevant to recent events in which a number of people were sentenced to prison for kidnapping and torturing men who refused to give a get.
נראה דטוב שלא לכופו ליתן גט אלא בדרך זה להחרימו או לתופסו בידי גוים או בשוטים שלא להכותה או שיוציא ויתן גט ובדרך זה לא מיקרי כפייה על הגט רק לקיים מה שמחוייב לעשות.
[23] Kitvei ha-Gaon Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, vol. 1, p. 60.
[24] Piskei Din shel Batei ha-Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 7, p. 65.
[25] Mishpetei Shaul, no. 34
[26] For a detailed discussion regarding whether the beit din can force a wife beater to divorce his wife, see R. Isaac ben Walid, Va-Yomer Yitzhak, vol. 1, no. 135.
[27] If someone said, “All NRA members are terrorists,” would Waldron think that NRA members also have a right to be protected against that defamation? And if not, why not? What possible legal distinction is there between belonging to a religion and belonging to an organization?
[28] See R. Yehoshua Inbal, Torah she-Ba’al Peh (Jerusalem, 2015), p. 215.
[29] Assaf, Ha-Onshin, p. 25.
[30] Eric Zimmer, Harmony and Discord (New York, 1970), p. 93.


Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn – A Multi-faceted Erudite Scholar

Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn – A Multi-faceted Erudite Scholar

By Marvin J. Heller[1]

Jewish history and literature is replete with individuals of stature, men of repute, leaders in their generation, whose memory has not fared well over time. Their reputations and accomplishments notwithstanding, they are not well remembered today, excepting in rabbinic or academic circles. This is, of course, not only a Jewish phenomenon, but our concern is with one individual in particular, prominent in his time in the Jewish community, justifiably so, but, outside of the aforementioned circles is, for the most, forgotten today. Among those who were prominent in their time but are not well known by the general public is R. Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn.

Heilbronn (or Halpron), a late sixteenth and early seventeenth century rabbi, was a highly regarded Talmudic scholar, evident from the esteem in which he was held by his correspondents and in the approbations to his work, as well as being a mathematician. Heilbronn was the author, compiler, and translator of several varied books on different subjects, indicative of his erudition. In this article we will briefly recount Heilbronn’s life and career and then, in somewhat greater detail, describe his literary works. Mordecai Samuel Ghirondi and Hananel Neppi, suggest that Heilbronn was a student of R. Samuel Judah Katzenellenbogen (1521-97) the son of R. Meir Katzenellenbogen (Maharam of Padua, 1473–1565).[2] Born in Italy to an Ashkenaz family, Heilbronn studied in Prague, afterwards traveling through cities in Germany and Italy, earning his livelihood from teaching. Heilbronn was also a tutor, among his students were the children of R. Nehemiah Luzzatto in Venice, for whom Heilbronn included a eulogy in his Nahalat Ya’akov (below).[3]

Jacob Heilbronn’s brother was R. Joseph ben Elhanan Heilbronn, who eventually settled in and became a resident of Posen. Also a person of repute, today Joseph Heilbronn is considered a German Jewish scholar. However, not only is he also poorly recalled, when Joseph Heilbronn is remembered, it is often as Jacob Heilbronn’s brother. Joseph Heilbronn was the author of Em ha-Yeled (Prague, 1597) a popular elementary Hebrew grammar, among the earliest of children’s grammar books, reprinted several times. The title-page of Em ha-Yeled informs that it is concerned with the grammar of words, for a child of seven, to familiarize him with word structure, the letters comprising word structure, tenses, future and past, singular and plural, male and female. The purpose is so that he will be able to speak the holy tongue (Hebrew) clearly and to write grammatically. Joseph Heilbronn’s other works are Me’irat Einayim (Cracow or Prague, c. 1600), an index of the taryag mitzvot according to Maimonides; and Kol ha-Kore (Cracow c. 1602), brief rules of grammar for schools based on the work of R. Elijah Levita (Bahur, 1469-1549).[4]

Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn, after teaching Torah in several communities, eventually settled in Padua where he was engaged as rabbi. Padua, a city of some distinction, counted among its residence such distinguished sages as R. Samuel Archivolti (Arugat ha-Bosem, c. 1515–1611), R. Simhah Luzzatto (1583–1663), and was home to a medical school which admitted Jewish students and therefore attracted Jews throughout Europe.[5]

I

Turning to Heilbronn’s literary activity. His works are in Yiddish (Judeo-German), Hebrew, and even in Italian, reflecting the composition and needs of contemporary Jewry. The Yiddish texts, three are noted here, were all printed at the press of Giovani di Gara. That press, active from 1564 to 1611, printed more than 270 books, primarily in Hebrew letters, and only infrequently in non-Jewish languages. Of that number, almost a third are seventeenth century imprints. Di Gara published a wide variety of books, encompassing liturgical works, Bibles, responsa, haggadot, and important first titles by authors. Given the positive reputation of the di Gara press it is not surprising that Heilbronn chose to print several of his titles with the di Gara press.

Heilbronn’s Yiddish titles are set in Vaybertaytsh, a semi-cursive type generally but not exclusively reserved for Yiddish books, so named because these works were most often read by the less educated and women.[6] These books were clearly meant for an Ashkenazi audience, for books in Vaybertaytsh were certainly not directed or intelligible to a market outside that community, but also evidence that that market was sufficiently large enough to justify the publication of works for a particular element of rather than for the entire Jewish community.

Orech Yamim – We begin our review of Heilbronn’s literary activity with his translations into Yiddish of several short but substantial works. The first of these titles is Orech Yamim, an ethical work by R. Samuel ben Jacob Benveniste, one of the sages of medieval Spain. The words Orech Yamim appear in several biblical verses, but based on Benveniste’s references, the appropriate verse appears to be “With long life (orech yamim) I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation” (Psalms 91:16).

Orech Yamim is an ethical manual for parents and children emphasizing the education of children, as well as addressing the subjects of haughtiness and humility.[7] There is a dedication by Heilbronn to Rosa, wife of the official קצין R. Nehemiah Luzzatto of Venice.[8]

First printed in Constantinople (c. 1580), Orech Yamim has proven to be a relatively popular work; it has been reprinted several times in various locations and translated into different languages, most often Yiddish, beginning with this Venice edition in 1599. Approximately a year after this edition appeared a Hebrew edition was published, also in Venice.[9] The 1599 Yiddish edition was printed as an octavo (80: 16 ff.) at the Venetian press of Giovanni di Gara. This is in contrast to the c. 1600 Hebrew edition, also printed in Venice, but at the press of Daniel Zanetti as a sixteenmo (160: 7ff.).[10] There was, three centuries later, even an Arabic edition (Baghdad, 1929).

1599, Orech Yamim

1602, Dinnim ve-Seder

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel[11]

Keter Malkhut – In 1600, the di Gara press published Keter Malkhut, Heilbronn’s Yiddish translation of R. Solomon ben Judah Ibn Gabirol’s (Arabic Abu Ayyub Sulayman ibn Yahya ibn Gabirul; Latin Avicebron, c. 1021-1057) Keter Malkhut. issued in octavo format (80: 24 ff.) Keter Malkhut has been described as,

rhymed prose dealing in high style with the essence of God, the work of the creation, with a description of the “spheres,” and a confession of the low condition of man, prone to sin. . . ;.

Keter Malkhut opens with praise for the Creator and an account of His attributes: His unity, existence, eternity, and life and His greatness, power, and divinity. God is also described as “Light,” according to the neoplatonic image of the deity, “Thou art the supreme light and the eyes of the pure soul shall see thee” (tr. Lewis, 31). Nevertheless, Gabirol stresses that God and his attributes are not distinguishable: we refer to attributes only because of the limited means of human expression.[12]

There is a dedication to Kilah, the wife of the official קצין R. Mendel Ottolenghi, presumably a member of the renowned Italian family of that name.[13]

Dinnim ve-Seder (Seder Meliḥah) – In 1602, Heilbronn published Dinnim ve-Seder (Seder Meliḥah), an important work on the principles of salting meat. This edition, in Yiddish, is based on R. Moses Isserles’ (Rema, c.1525/30–1572) Torat Hattat, which in turn follows the Sha’arei Dura of R. Isaac ben Meir Dueren (late 13th century) with additions according to the customs of Polish and German Jewry. The Rema, among the foremost halakhic authorities and the leading decisor for Ashkenazim, is best known for his Haggahot or ha-Mappah, glosses on the Shulhan Arukh. Dueren, a German halakhic authority, resident in Dueren in Germany, was an authority on the laws of issur ve-hetter (dietary laws)..

The Rema’s purpose in writing Torat Hattat was that due to the popularity of Sha’arei Dura, a work of considerable brevity, people wish to learn it while [standing] on one foot. Torat ha-Hattat is not, however, merely a clarification of Sha’arei Dura, although arranged according to and following the former work, but its purpose, as Rema writes, is not only to add contemporary customs, to which Rema placed great weight, but to teach practical halakhah. Furthermore, many of the laws, particularly in the area of issur ve-hetter, as explained by R. Joseph Caro (1488 –1575) in his Shulhan Arukh, which had become widespread, are not applicable in these lands, that is Poland and other Ashkenazi communities.

Torat Hattat was first printed in Cracow in 1569, and reprinted in 1577 and 1590. This, the first Yiddish edition, was published by the di Gara press in octavo format (80: 8 ff.). It has a dedication to Moskita, daughter of R. Hezkiah Perinto. There is also a memorial address on the death of R. Avigdor Cividal (Zuidal, d. 18 Heshvan, [5]362 = November 18, 1601), rabbi in Venice.[14]

These three titles, translations of distinguished works into Yiddish by Heilbronn, are varied. Orech Yamim and Dinnim ve-Seder, while quite different in subject matter, the former an ethical manual emphasizing the education of children, as well as addressing the subjects of haughtiness and humility, the latter dealing with the principles of salting meat, are eminently practical works, addressing that part of the community that was less learned but had a serious need for the books’contents. In contrast, Keter Malkhut, while unquestionably a work of great value does not appear to fit the practical pattern of the two other works. Heilbronn’s motivation is publishing Keter Malkhut is unclear.

Even less clear is Heilbronn’s purpose in dedicating each of these works to apparently unrelated women, even if married and women of great virtue. That would appear, unless with good reason or of close relatives, to be inconsistent with Jewish values. One needs assume that Heilbronn, a respected rabbi, translator of an ethical work, had good reason for doing so, even if for reasons that are unclear, but were appropriate.

II

Kizzur Abrabanel – We turn now to Heilbronn’s Hebrew works.[15] The first of Heilbronn’s three Hebrew titles is Kizzur Abrabanel, an abridgement of Don Isaac ben Judah Abrabanel’s (1437–1508) commentaries on Pirkei Avot and the Pesah Haggadah. A noted statesman, biblical exegete, and philosopher, Abrabanel’s works encompass commentaries on the Torah, most books of the Bible, and philosophical works. Abrabanel served as an advisor and financier to kings in Portugal and Spain, electing to go into exile at the time of the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492. Among his books are these commentaries on Pirkei Avot, entitled Nahalat Avot, and on the Pesah Hagadah, entitled Zevah Pesah.

Kizzur Abrabanel is an abridgement of Nahalat Avot and Zevah Pesah; it was published in 1604-05 in Lublin at the press of Zevi ben Abraham Kalonymous Jaffe as a quarto (40: 79, [1] ff.). Both titles, apart from the abridgement, were printed in Constantinople in 1505 and reprinted several times in the sixteenth century; Nahalat Avot was reprinted in Venice (1545, 1567) and Zevah Pesah was reprinted in Venice (1545), Cremona (1557), Riva di Trento (1561) and Bistrowitz (1592). Both works have proven popular, were republished several times, particularly Zevah Pesah.

Abrabanel’s style in those works, as in his other commentaries, is lengthy, deep and thorough, but eminently readable. Nevertheless, it is the length of his commentaries that made an abridgement attractive.

The title page describes Kizzur Abrabanel as having been written by Heilbronn, known by all as Hertzkes, who diligently sat in the tent of Torah where sat the sages full of mitzvot like a pomegranate and saw that lengthiness hindered others from doing so. Heilbronn, therefore, for the public good, abridged these works so that they could be quickly read. The title page is dated Wednesday, 25 Sivan 364 (June 2, 1604). The colophon dates completion of work to Friday, Rosh Hodesh Adar “and Jacob had scarcely gone out from the presence of Isaac ויהי אך יצא יצא יעקב מאת פני יצחק (365 = 30 Shevat = February 18, 1605) his father” (Genesis 27:30). On the verso of the title page is an approbation signed by eight geonim in Jaroslav. Next is Heilbronn’s introduction

the commentary of the great Rav, wonder of the generation [Don Yitzhak] Abrabanel on Avot and the Pesah Haggadah, a truly wonderful commentary, accepted by everyone, joining all the Mishnayot and ma’amarim together into one tent which was not done by other commentators, before and after. It was the desire of all to continually delve into and delight in it daily and “find rest for their souls” (cf. Jeremiah 6:16). . . .

1604, Kizzur Abrabanel

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Heilbronn continues that due to the lengthiness of Abrabanel’s commentary, perhaps excessively, people are unable to read and complete it, and therefore but “one from a city, and two from a family” (Jeremiah 3:14) even begin it and it lays in the corner of the house “all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered it over” (Proverbs 24:31). He has therefore prepared this abridgement and taken the queries with which the Abrabanel customarily begins each section and placed them at the end of the work.

The text of Kizzur Abrabanel follows, in two columns, the text of each work in a square unvocalized font, followed by Abrabanel’s commentary in rabbinic letters. Kizzur Abrabanel is comprised of the commentary to Pirkei Avot, from 46b the commentary on the Pesah Haggadah, and at the end the queries with which the Abarbanel began topics in Avot (69a-75b) and the Haggadah (76a-79b).[16]

Despite being an attractive and functional volume, Kizzur Abrabanel has not, unfortunately, been reprinted, this being the only edition of Kizzur Abrabanel.

Nahalat Ya’akov – Our second Hebrew title is Nahalat Ya’akov, responsa and halakhic novellae. Nahalat Ya’akov was published in Padua in 1622 at the press of Gaspare Crivellari in quarto format (40: 51 ff.).

The title page of Nahalat Ya’akov has a six-part frame comprised of floral patterns. The text states that Nahalat Ya’akov is responsa on halakhic matters (dinim) concerning monetary issues, dietary laws (issur ve-heter), and commentary on various subjects in Tosafot and Rashi. These were collected and assembled from “elderly rabbis רבנן קשישי (Berakhot 30a, 46b) who were in his days,” and to whom he submitted queries and received responses, טו”ב (17) in number and enumerated by name on the following page. The title page has the Hebrew date שפ”ג ([5]383) and the Arabic numeral date 1622, indicating that it was printed in the final months of 1622, when the new Jewish year has begun and the secular year had not yet concluded.

1622, Nahalat Ya’akov

Courtesy of the Fales Library and Special Collections, New York University

The verso of the title page is blank. Folio 2a has the names of the rabbis, all distinguished, with whom Heilbronn corresponded, and whose responses make up a substantial portion of Nahalat Ya’akov. Among them are R. Abraham Menahem Kohen Rapa Porto (Rapaport, Minhah Belulah), Judah Katzenellenbogen, Avigdor Cividal, Mordecai Jaffe (Levush), and Isaiah Horowitz (Shelah ha-Kodesh), the last, along with R. Kalonymus ben Samuel ha-Kohen, providing approbations. There is an introduction in a single column in rabbinic type from Heilbronn, who writes that “‘Nahalat Ya’akov (the heritage of Jacob, Isaiah 58:14) your father,’ this is my portion from all my labors and exertions.” There is a dedication to his benefactor R. Simḥah Luzzatto.

Heilbronn entitles it Nahalat Ya’akov for two reasons: it is all that he has accomplished to be an inheritance to the children of Jacob; and secondly, all will see that in it are “words of delight; [and words of truth] written in proper form.” (Ecclesiastes 12:10). The text is set in two columns in square type. The volume concludes with an index. This is the only edition of Nahalat Ya’akov.

Shoshannat Ya’akov – Our final Hebrew title, Shoshannat Ya’akov, Heilbronn’s introduction to arithmetic with mathematic puzzles. It was published together with R. Eliezer ha-Gadol’s (R. Eliezer ben Isaac of Worms, 11th cent.) Orhot Hayyim. The combined work, with the title-page heading Orhot Hayyim, was published in Venice at the press of Giovanni Caleoni in 1623 as a sixteenmo (160: 12 ff.). Orhot Hayyim is a popular ethical will often erroneously credited to R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus (1st-2nd cent.), but also appearing with R. Asher ben Jehiel (Rosh, c. 1250-1327as the author.

Shoshannat Ya’akov, our title of interest, is, as, noted above, an introduction to arithmetic with mathematic puzzles. The title-page emphasizes Orhot Hayyim, stating,

is the testament of R. Eliezer ha-Gadol, which he commanded his son Hyrcanus at the time of his passing. It was brought to press by R. Jacob Heilbronn for the public good. He has added at the end an addition of his own from his “wisdom and knowledge” (Ecclesiastes 1:16, 2:26) in arithmetic to be able to understand his fellow’s calculations and to write with allusions in the manner of esotery and appetizers of wisdom. This addition is entitled Shoshannat Ya’akov to instruct to teach the youth of the children of Israel knowledge and stratagem in concealed secrets. . . .

Shoshannat Ya’akov, includes, in addition to its arithmetic content, riddles and epigrams. Both works are set in a single column in rabbinic type, with Shoshannat Ya’akov beginning on 8a. It does not have a separate title page but rather a one-line header giving the title. At the end of the volume is verse by R. David ben Shemariah Morpurgo. An example of the contents in Shoshannat Ya’akov is the last entry (11a),

To speak in allusions so that those standing by the speaker will not understand except for his companion who knows the matter as do you but none other.

First, I will instruct you in the alef bet and afterwards how to arrange words with the five fingers of the right hand beginning with the thumb. . . .

1623, Orhot Hayyim / Shoshannat Ya’akov,

Courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

Moritz Steinschneider, likely referring to this work, writes informs that “arithmetical puzzles were framed in Germany by JACOB BEN ELIAKIM (613 [sic]) for primary instruction and an exercise of subtlety.”[17]

Orhot Hayyim has been frequently reprinted. This is, however, the only edition of Shoshannat Ya’akov.

III

Mitzvot Nashim – We conclude with Heilbronn’s most popular (successful) work, based on the number of times it was reprinted, that is, Mitzvot Nashim, or, in Italian,

Precetti da esser
imparati
dalle donne hebree

The above meaning precepts to be learned by Hebrew women, and continuing that it was composed by Rabbi Bini amin D’harodono (R. Benjamin Aaron ben Abraham Slonik, Solnik, c. 1550 – c. 1619) and that it was translated by Rabbi Giacob Halpron (Jacob Heilbron) into Hebrew for women with a fear of God. Precetti da Esser Imparati is a translation into Italian of R. Benjamin Slonik of Grodno’s (c. 1550 – c. 1619) Yiddish Seder Mitzvot Nashim (a lovely booklet for women). Precetti da Esser Imparati was published in Venice in 1616 at the press of Giacomo Sarzina as a 20 cm. book ( [10], 3-101, [11] pp.).

The title-page is followed by a dedication to Alla Molta Magnifica et Nobilissima Signora Osservandissima, La Signora Bona Consorte Delmolto Magnifico, & Nobelissimo Signor Lazero d’Italia Hebreo in Mantova (below, left). Again, a dedication to a woman, with the comment noted earlier.[18] It should be noted, however, that there is no impropriety suggested, as the dedications are not only done publicly but in books with approbations from highly regarded rabbis.

1616, Mitzvot Nashim – Precetti da esser imparati dalle donne hebree

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Mitzvot Nashim is on the three mitzvot specific to women, the laws of niddah, hallah, and lighting of Sabbath candles, which, if not observed, “are the three transgressions for which woman die in childbirth” (Shabbat 31b). The text, in Italian with occasional Hebrew, is comprised or one hundred thirty-seven chapters followed by a listing (below, right) of the mitzvot; 76 for niddah, 77-87 for hallah, and 88-101 for lighting Sabbath candles.

In his detailed work on Seder Mitzvot ha-Nashim, Edward Fram suggests Slonik’s efforts were educational rather than legislative in insuring proper observance of commandments. He had to consider that the book was for both readers and listeners, for both the pious and rebellious. Israel Zinberg, in his brief description of this title, describes it as being “in a tender, gentle tone ‘the little book for women’ teaches the Jewish wife and mother how she ought to conduct herself in her family life and religious-social life.” Most chapters are brief but several are quite lengthy and, in addition to the halakhic detail, include ethical, motivational and homiletic supporting material which certainly enhanced the books popularity.[19]

Slonik’s Mitzvot Nashim been a popular and much reprinted work. Four editions, beginning with a Cracow 1577 edition, are known for the sixteenth century, three printed in Slonik’s lifetime, and six are recorded for the seventeenth century, beginning with a Yiddish edition, Ein Schon Frauen Buchlein (Basle, 1602). Heilbronn’s Italian translation (Venice, 1616) has also proven to be popular and has been republished.[20]

IV

We began by noting that Jewish history and literature is replete with individuals of stature, whose accomplishments notwithstanding, are not well remembered today. Among those who were prominent in their time but are not well known by the general public today is R. Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn. A review of his life and accomplishments, particularly the books he authored and printed, suggests that he indeed was a person of accomplishment, deserving more than a passing glance. A peripatetic individual, Heilbronn appears in several locations in Europe before finally accepting a position as rabbi and settling in Padua.

It is his books that are of greatest interest and set him aside from many of his contemporaries. While his works, in most cases, are not original, they are of merit, being tri-lingual, in Yiddish, Hebrew, and Italian. They are generally adaptations of the successful and important works of others. In translating and abridging those works, Heilbronn has made them available to a much larger public, one that likely might not otherwise have had access to them. His books encompass ethical and halakhic subjects, even a mathematic work, in Yiddish, abridgements in Hebrew, and finally in Italian, making it clear that Heilbronn, in his selection of these works was erudite, and in his preparing them for a larger readership shows his concern for that public.

Admittedly, these books, abridgments and translations into Vaybertaytsh, are not such as to capture the imagination of intellectuals and academics, yet they demonstrate a concern and interest in the needs of the wider community that was, is often overlooked. Heilbronn did not do so. Indeed, Heilbronn, a rabbi in the fullest sense of the word, was, of a surety, a person of accomplishment and erudition, one concerned with the needs of his public.

[1] I would, once again, like to express my appreciation to Eli Genauer for reading the article and his comments.

[2] Mordecai Samuel Ghirondi and Hananel Neppi, Toledot Gedolei Yisrael u-Ge’onei Italyah ve-Hagahot al Sefer Zekher Tzadikim li-Berakhah (Trieste, 1853, reprint Brooklyn, 1993), p. 173 [Hebrew].

[3] Jacob Hirsch Haberman, “Heilbronn, Jacob ben Elhanan,” Encyclopaedia Judaica vol. 8, (2007) p. 766.

[4] Jacob Elbaum, Openness and Insularity. Late Sixteenth Century Jewish Literature in Poland and Ashkenaz (Jerusalem, 1990), pp. pp. 48, 264 [Hebrew]. Concerning Joseph Heilbronn’s Em ha-Yeled see Marvin J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus II (Brill, Leiden, 2004), pp. 872-73.

[5] Concerning Hebrew printing in Padua see Marvin J. Heller, “‘There were in Padua almost as many Hebrew printers as Hebrew books.’ The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Press in Padua,” Gutenberg-Jahrbuch (Mainz, 2003), pp. 86-92, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2008) pp. 121-30.

[6] Concerning the early use of Vaybertaytsh see Herbert C. Zafren, “Variety in the Typography of Yiddish: 1535-1635,” Hebrew Union College Annual LIII (Cincinnati, 1982), pp. 137-63; idem, “Early Yiddish Typography,” Jewish Book Annual 44 (New York, 1986-87), pp. 106-119. In the former article, Zafren informs that the first book in which Yiddish was a segment was major was Mirkevet ha-Mishneh (Sefer shel R. Anshel), a concordance and glossary of the Bible (Cracow, 1534/35). In the latter article he suggests that the origin of Vaybertaytsh, which he refers to as Yiddish type, was the Ashkenaz rabbinic fonts, supplanted by the more widespread Sephardic rabbinic type which prevailed in Italy (p. 112).

[7] Shimon Vanunu, Encyclopedia Arzei ha-Levanon. Encyclopedia le-Toldot Geonei ve-Ḥakhmei Yahadut Sefarad ve-ha-Mizraḥ IV (Jerusalem, 2006), p. 2175 [Hebrew]

[8] A. M. Habermann, Giovanni di Gara: Printer, Venice 1564-1610. ed. Y. Yudlov (Jerusalem, 1982), p. 92 no. 186 [Hebrew].

[9] Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Listing of Books Printed in Hebrew Letters Since the Beginning of Printing circa 1469 through 1863 II.(Jerusalem, 1993–95), p. 261: nos. 870, 890 [Hebrew].

[10] Sixteenmo (sextodecimo) refers to the size of book page resulting from folding each printed sheet into sixteen leaves (thirty-two pages).

[11] The images of Orech Yamim and Dinnim ve-Seder were reproduced from the library site from microfilm, accounting for their darker appearance.

[12] Angel Sáenz-Badillos and Shlomo Pines, “Gabirol, Solomon ben Judah, Ibn,” Encyclopaedia Judaica, vol. 7 pp. 321-327.

[13] A. M. Habermann, Giovanni di Gara, p. 97, no. 196.

[14] A. M. Habermann, Giovanni di Gara, p.105, no .213.

[15] The description of the Hebrew books in this section are extracted, with modifications, from Marvin J. Heller, The Seventeenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus (Leiden/Boston, 2011), var. cit..

[16] Isaac Yudlov, Ginzei Yisrael, The Israel Mehlman Collection in the Jewish National and University Library (Jerusalem, 1984), p. 39 no. 125 [Hebrew with English Appendix]; idem, The Haggadah Thesaurus. Bibliography of Passover Haggadot From the Beginning of Printing until 1960 (Jerusalem, 1997), p. 6 no. 42 [Hebrew].

[17] Moritz Steinschneider, Jewish Literature: from the eighteenth century with an introduction on Talmud and Midrasch: A historical Essay (Hildesheim, 1967), p. 261.

[18] In all fairness, while these dedications do seem to stand out, particularly given seventeenth century and Jewish sensibilities, I must note that I too have dedicated books to women. My first book is dedicated to my wife, Shoshana; my second book is dedicated to my parents and to my in-laws, mention being made by name of both my mother and of my mother-in-law.

[19] Edward Fram, My Dear Daughter. Rabbi Benjamin Slonik and the Education of Jewish Women in Sixteenth-Century Poland (Cincinnati, 2007), pp. xvi-xvii, var. cit.; Israel Zinberg, A History of Jewish Literature VII (New York, 1975), translated by Bernard Martin, pp. 142.

[20] The  popularity of this work can be seen by recent auction history. Two editions of Mitzvot Nashim, Precetti da Esser Imparati, the 1616 Venice and the 1625 Padua, editions were sold at auction by Kedem Auction House on May 23, 2017 for $3300. An auction for the Italian 1616 edition by Kestenbaum & co on November 17, 2017, Auction 74 lot 204 estimated. price: $600 – $900 and realized $1,300. Three additional auctions, for the 1717 edition beginning with Virtual Judaica, February 25, 2014, Lot 38646, price realized 200.00; by Winner’s Auctions on November 29, 2017, Lot 357, estimate $200-300, price realized $180; and again by Kedem Auction House, Auction 013, on May 2, 2018, price realized $150.00.



Self-Censorship in the Arukh ha-Shulhan, ArtScroll’s Latest Betrayal, and Other Assorted Comments

Self-Censorship in the Arukh ha-Shulhan, ArtScroll’s Latest Betrayal, and Other Assorted Comments
Marc B. Shapiro

1. R. Mordechai Rabinovitch has recently published the second volume of his commentary on the Arukh ha-Shulhan, dealing with the laws of Hanukkah. I strongly encourage anyone who prepares for the holiday by studying the halakhot in the Arukh ha-Shulhan to use R. Rabinovitch’s valuable work.
Interestingly, R. Rabinovitch vocalizes the work as Arokh ha-Shulhan. This is based on the fact that these words, with this vocalization, appear in Isaiah 21:5. Yet this is incorrect. As R. Eitam Henkin has pointed out, when the work was published by R. Epstein himself, the title in Russian also appeared on the binding. R. Epstein knew Russian very well, and the Russian reads “Arukh”. Henkin also notes that in the edition published in Vilna by his daughter, the title appeared in Latin letters. Once again we see that it was pronounced “Arukh”.[1] This latter point might have been known to some long-time readers of the Seforim Blog, as this page with the Latin letters was reproduced in this post from 2007. Here it is again.

The Arukh ha-Shulhan was the subject of a dispute between R. Shaul Yisraeli, a member of the Supreme Rabbinic Court (Beit Din ha-Gadol) and Menachem Elon, of the Israeli Supreme Court. The context was that France had requested that Israel extradite a criminal. Elon argued that this was permitted according to Jewish law. In support of this he cited Arukh ha-Shulhan 388:7, which states that there is no law of mesirah when dealing with a civilized government and legal system, such as in Czarist Russia[!] and England. Here is the text.

When challenged by R. Shaul Yisraeli that the text in the Arukh ha-Shulhan was written with an eye to the anti-Semitic government, Elon defended his position that the text is R. Epstein’s authentic opinion.[2] I don’t wish to get into this dispute at present,[3] and readers interested in the topic can consult R. Michael Broyde’s article “Informing on Others for Violating American Law: A Jewish Law View”, available here. 
R. Rabinovitch’s new commentary is also relevant to this debate, since he identifies examples of what he regards as self-censorship in the Arukh ha-Shulhan, and these are in areas not as potentially problematic as the halakhot dealing with mesirah. In his discussion of the Hanukkah story, Arukh ha-Shulhan 670:3, R. Epstein writes: שכשנכנסו אנשי אנטיוכס להיכל. Yet in the Talmud it states שכשנכנסו יוונים להיכל. R. Rabinovitch suggests that this is an example of self-censorship.[4] At first I thought that this was somewhat far fetched. I didn’t think that there was any reason to fear that government officials would be offended by a simple historical description that mentions the ancient Greeks. However, S. wrote to me as follows.

Yevanim was a particularly loaded term in Russia (for historical purposes this includes regions outside of Russia proper, like Ukraine), because Jews called the non-Jews Yevanim. They did so because many Ukrainians were of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church (the Russian Orthodox Church is an Eastern Orthodox Church and in that way ‘related’ to Greece as well). It is for this reason that Hanover called his account of the Khmelnitzky massacres Yeven Metzula, and refers to the Cossacks as yevanim – but we can see it from other sources, too. For example, see attached for a horrifying account of a massacre on the second day of Pesach 1655. You can see he calls the Cossacks yevanim (from here).

Supposedly it was also a play on the name Ivan, but I’m not sure if that’s just folk etymology. But more importantly, we can see that some works took it seriously and changed yevanim to something else, to avoid offending the censor. See here where changing yevanim to “yehirim” in Maoz Tzur was a somewhat common change.

And see here where it documents in the 1840s that Jews called the Russians yevanim  – and doubtless you can show it from many Yiddish sources, too. See here where I discuss how the Slavuta Talmud actually changes a gemara; “Rabbi said, why speak Syriac in Eretz Yisrael? Speak Hebrew or Greek!” to “Speak Hebrew or Akum!” 

So in my view the Arukh Ha-Shulchan definitely deliberately wrote Antiochos.

We can argue about whether this or that particular halakhah in the Arukh ha-Shulhan is an example of self-censorship, but there can be no doubt about the basic fact that R. Epstein did indeed censor himself for fear of the Czar. All one needs to do is see his fawning essay “Kevod Melekh”, at the beginning of Arukh ha-Shulhan, Hoshen Mishpat, to get a sense of the environment he had to operate in. In this essay he tells the reader how much the Jews love the Czar, and that is why they pray for him and his family every Shabbat and Yom Tov.
R. Eliyahu Zini,[5] whose books I hope to discuss in a future post, points to a clear example of the Arukh ha-Shulhan’s self-censorship in Orah Hayyim 329:9. There he writes:
לסטים שצרו על בתי ישראל אם באו על עסקי ממון . . . אבל אם באו על עסקי נפשות להרוג ולאבד או אפילו באו סתם והיינו שאין ידוע לנו על מה באו הוה ג”כ כבבירור על עסקי נפשות דסתם לסטים הם הורגי נפשות יוצאים עליהם בכלי זיין ומחללין עליהם את השבת ובזמן הקדמון בזמן שבהמ”ק היה קיים ובאו לעיר העומדת על הגבול. . . .
This halakhah is derived from Eruvin 45a, but in this text there is no mention of bandits – לסטים. Rather, the Talmud is speaking of non-Jews – נכרים (an alternate reading cited by Dikdukei Soferim is גוים). Secondly, there is nothing in the Talmud about the last halakhah I quoted only applying in the era when the Temple stood. These changes made by R. Epstein were due of fear of creating problems with the government. I think this is as clear as it can be, which makes it very surprising that R. Ovadiah Yosef took the Arukh ha-Shulhan at face value that the latter halakhah only applied in the days of the Temple. R. Ovadiah then points out that the Shulhan Arukh disagrees, seeing the halakhah as also applying in contemporary times.[6]

R. Zini cannot contain himself at this (mis)understanding of R. Ovadiah, and as he often does, he rejects R. Ovadiah’s point very strongly.[7]
ומי פתי הוא זה שלא יבין שבעל ערוך השלחן “צינזר את עצמו” מפחד הצאר, כפי שעשה בעשרות מקומות בספרו זה . . . ופלא נשגבה ממני איך הגר”ע יוסף שליט”א לא הבחין בכך?!
As mentioned already, the Talmud, Eruvin 45a, uses the word נכרים. This means non-Jews, and only non-Jews. Imagine my surprise, therefore, when I saw that the Soncino translation has the following: “If foreigners besieged Israelite towns.” Since there is no way that the translator, who was a learned man, could have made such a mistake, I can only assume that this translation was also designed to avoid any non-Jewish ill will.
Since the author of the Arukh ha-Shulhan, R. Jehiel Michel Epstein, was the brother-in-law of R. Naftali Zvi Judah Berlin, now is a good place to note the problem with one of the titles of R. Berlin’s works. His commentary to R. Ahai Gaon’s She’iltot is העמק שאלה. How should these words be pronounced? Some scholars write Ha-Amek She’alah, basing themselves on Isaiah 7:11. However, Gil S. Perl argues that the correct pronunciation is Ha-Amek She’elah. As he puts it, if the pronunciation in Isaiah was intended, “the title would mean ‘sink to the depths,’ the ‘depths’ (from the word she’ol) being a reference to the netherworld or Hell—a rather strange title for a work of halakhic commentary.” Perl therefore suggest that the Netziv “intended his title as a play on those words from Isaiah pronounced Ha’amek She’alah, meaning ‘delve into the question” or perhaps ‘delve into the She’ilta.’”[8]
Speaking of proper pronunciation of titles, ArtScroll might play a positive role in this. Since today so many people studying Talmud are using ArtScroll, they will see that the tractates are pronounced “Arachin”, not “Eruchin”, and “Horayos”, not “Horiyos”. So I hope that these yeshivish pronunciations will soon be a thing of the past, at least among English speakers, and if so this will be thanks to ArtScroll. Furthermore, since their edition of the Midrash Rabbah has started to appear people in yeshiva circles will begin to use it, and slowly the pronunciation “Medrish” may go by the wayside (at least we can hope so). Now if we could only rid people of the pronunciation “ikrim” instead of “ikarim”.
Having said all this, it is also the case that general convention can sometimes trump proper grammatical pronunciation. For example, take the words נודע ביהודה which appear Psalms 76:2. These words are pronounced Noda Bihudah, yet when referring to the book by this title the convention is to write Noda bi-Yehudah, even though this is not the correct pronunciation.
For those who want to see a bit of “Sephardic supremacy” when it comes to pronunciation, see this video where R. Ovadiah really lets the Ashkenazim have it.

Returning to the Arukh ha-Shulhan, its significance has declined in the last two generations. While figures such as R. Joseph Elijah Henkin, R. Moses Feinstein, and R. Yaakov Kamenetsky regarded the Arukh ha-Shulhan as more authoritative than the Mishnah Berurah,[9] not many poskim still have this perspective. Whereas the Arukh ha-Shulhan used to stand on its own, in our day we have seen the publication of an edition of the Arukh ha-Shulhan accompanied by the pesakim of the Mishnah Berurah, the point of which is to let the reader know that while one can study the Arukh ha-Shulhan as a theoretical work, when it comes to practical halakhah one must follow the Mishnah Berurah.[10]
The truth is that one can use the Arukh ha-Shulhan as a work of practical halakhah just like one can use the Mishnah Berurah. This reminds me of an experience I had many years ago when I believe I was still in high school. I was at a shiur where the rabbi was learning Mishnah Berurah. After reading one halakhah in the Mishnah Berurah he pointed out that “we don’t hold like this”. A member of the audience asked how one who learns the Mishnah Berurah by himself is supposed to know when that is the case, that is, when “we don’t hold” like it. The rabbi replied that this is why it is important to have a rav, so that you will know when we follow the Mishnah Berurah and when we don’t.
Even though I was quite young I thought that this was a mistaken reply, and the many years subsequent have not changed my mind. It is of course important to have a rav, but not for the reason the rabbi said. There is absolutely nothing wrong with someone learning the Mishnah Berurah (or Arukh ha-Shulhan) and following everything in it. One doesn’t need, and it would be an impossible task, to ask his rabbi about each and every halakhah if this is what “we follow”. One who lives in an Orthodox community will learn that sometimes the community practice is more lenient than what appears in these works, and sometimes it is more strict. It is in those circumstances that I think that one should consult one’s rav, and ask him if despite common practice it makes sense to be lenient in accord with either of these texts, or if one should be strict as recommended by either the Mishnah Berurah or Arukh ha-Shulhan even though the common practice is not like this. But as a general rule, and I have never had a teacher who thought otherwise, one can rely on either of these classic halakhic texts.
2. Many people were distressed to see the sources from great pre-modern poskim that spoke about all sorts of physical mutilation, including R. Asher ben Jehiel agreeing that an adulteress’ nose could be cut off. I have mentioned in the past, but it bears repeating here, that the various punishments seen were also found in the contemporary non-Jewish society.[11] I know this may be troubling to some readers, to see that leading rabbis had an approach to punishment that today people regard as barbaric. Yet there really is no alternative, as to a certain extent, every generation reflects the general values of society at large. Halakhah and Jewish thought are often likewise affected in this way. I have provided numerous examples of this throughout the years, so there is no need to go through it again.[12]
3. In a question “ripped from the headlines”, I was asked if I know of any past examples of someone secretly observing women in the mikveh. I don’t of any such cases, although in the anti-hasidic text Shever Posh’im[13] it quotes a hasidic author as follows:
ואני אומר דראוי לעמוד בשעת טבילה. ויאמין לי שפעם אחת עמדתי בעת שטבלה אשה אחת וראיתי באותו מקום ודי עלי כאוות ולא כלום. ולאחר שהלכתי משם שרי עלי קדושה גדולה.
I have never heard of such a mikveh, where men would bathe on one side and women immerse on the other. In fact, I wouldn’t pay this text any mind, since I find it hard to believe that anyone who examines the citations from the work, which are supposedly notes on the Tur, will not conclude that it is a forgery designed to make the Hasidim look bad.[14] There are so many outrageous things said in the text that nothing else makes sense. Did any hasid, even the most extreme, ever say that one who prays properly need not fast on Yom Kippur ?[15]
כתב הטור: יוה”כ אסור באכילה ושתי’. וכתב המין: ומי שיוכל לכוין בתפלה כתיקונה מותר בכל, ואין אכילה רק שיהא עם רוחניות ולא עם גשמיות כידוע ליודעי חן.
It is difficult even to record the following shocking text,[16] but we are not in the business of censorship here, and as mentioned, I have no doubt that this is a forgery.
כתב הטור: דבעל קרי מותר האידנא בתפילה . . . וה”ה אף להוציא זרע מחמת גודל החימום הק”ש והתפילה כי זהו העיקר לכבוד השי”ת, כידוע לחכמים השלימים.
Speaking of authentic texts, however, R. Joseph Hayyim does deal with a case of voyeurism and prescribes a teshuvah for this. I don’t want to get any more explicit, so for those who read Hebrew here is the text from Od Yosef Hai: Halakhot, parashat Shofetim, no. 51[17].

I am aware of only two times that a woman (other than one’s wife) can be seen without her clothes. One is the sotah, when her top is removed.[18] R. Judah states that if her breasts are attractive, they are not exposed,[19] but his opinion is not accepted. The other time is that the kohen must examine both men and women for tzara’at, and in both cases they are to be naked.[20]
As for the current controversy about whether dayanim need to see a female convert immerse, no one has yet referred to the following responsum from Kitvei R. Weinberg, vol. 1, no. 10. When I published this book I decided to have this short responsum translated from German, although I wasn’t sure if it was worth the trouble since all R. Weinberg was doing was repeating the halakhah as it appears in the Shulhan Arukh. Recent attempts to alter the traditional method of womens’ conversion, by arguing that the dayanim should not see the actual tevilah, show that even a simple responsum like this one can have value. I am very happy that it was translated and included in the sefer, so that it can now be part of the public conversation. 

Regarding the sources that have been cited in support of changing the traditional practice, no one has yet referred to a responsum by R. Isaac Herzog in which in the specific case he discusses (and I don’t think it can be used le-khathilah for other cases) he allows that only women see the tevilah.[21]
Also worth noting, even though in my opinion it has no halakhic significance, is Masekhet Gerim 1:4 which states:
האיש מטביל את האיש והאשה מטבלת את האשה
R. Hayyim Kanievsky points out, in his commentary ad loc., that this implies that men did not see any part of the immersion (unlike the current practice).
משמע שהאנשים לא יראוה כשהיא טובלת . . . משמע שאין רואין טבילתה רק הנשים.
R. Aryeh Leib Grossnass, Lev Aryeh, vol. 2, no. 11, argues that the beit din does not actually have to see the immersion in order for the conversion to be valid. It is this responsum that R. Moses Feinstein is responding to in Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah vol. 2, no. 127.

S. also called my attention to this document from 1844 signed by Isaac Leeser and currently on auction at Sotheby’s (link). It records how the conversion of a girl was only witnessed by two women, not by the beit din.

4. Simcha Goldstein was kind enough to send me these pictures from a Passover Haggadah sent out to donors by Yeshiva Torah Vodaath. It hardly needs to be said that such pictures (check out how the women are dressed), not to mention the Zionist theme as a whole, would never appear today in anything sent out by this yeshiva. 

Regarding Yeshiva Torah Vodaath, in the book Mi-Pihem shel Rabbotenu (Bnei Brak, 2008), p. 49, there in an interview with R. Don Ungarischer who states that when R. Reuven Grozovsky came to the United States during World War II, Torah Vodaath was the only yeshiva in America. This is incorrect and I am not just referring to the existence of Yeshivat R. Yitzchak Elhanan or Beit ha-Midrash le-Torah in Chicago, as Yeshivat R. Chaim Berlin also existed during this period. 
5. The second volume of Haym Soloveitchik’s collected essays has just been published. This is a very important work, especially since nine of the essays have never before appeared in print. Among these newly published essays are those that put forth a new thesis about the origins of Ashkenazic religious culture. There is so much learning in this book, and it is written in such an engaging style, that anyone with an appreciation for the history of halakhah will be spellbound.
The essay “The ‘Third Yeshivah of Bavel’”, where Soloveitchik elaborates on his new thesis, is a particular favorite of mine. It could be that in the end the scholarly community will reject his position. Yet just to read how he develops his argument, and attempts to create an entirely new paradigm, is a treat. Here is one lengthy paragraph from the essay that I found quite significant (p. 161).
Shift back now to the mid-tenth century and the original characteristics of Ashkenaz. I have noted that the new settlers saw no difference between the aggadic sections of the Talmud and the halakhic ones and exegeted both in equal detail. We take this, too, for granted because we find a commentary on both sections on every printed page of the Talmud that we have seen since early youth. Think, however, what this entails lexically. The halakhic portions of the Talmud are strongly formulaic, as is any unpunctuated text. If one knows some thirty to forty idiomatic phrases in Jewish Babylonian Aramaic, most halakhic passages will pose few linguistic problems. (Understanding their legal content is a different matter.) However, the aggadic narratives entail a wide-ranging and detailed knowledge of the Aramaic language—all the terms of different household utensils, farm equipment, agricultural practices, domestic animals, flora and fauna, to mention just a few areas of life that are reflected in the narratives of the aggadeta. We are talking about a vocabulary of some 10,000-12000 words, if not more. (Actually, much more, as one should count meanings rather than words or roots [shorashim]. Most words have multiple meanings, and commanding a language means precisely controlling the numerous meanings of its words, as well as its idioms.) Unless these settlers had a vast dictionary, alongside which the Sefer he-Arukh would seem a Berlitz phrase book, and unless this enormous dictionary and even the memory of it got lost in the Mainz academy within one generation, we must conclude that these immigrant founders of Ashkenazic culture were Aramaic speakers. Precisely because Aramaic was their native tongue, they could readily undertake what the scholars of Kairouan, Fez, and Lucena (all native Arabic speakers) could only attempt with trepidation, namely, to exegete the entire Talmud, leaving no phrase, halakhic or aggadic, unexplained.
6. The most recent issue of Milin Havivin has appeared. My article “Torah im Derekh Eretz as a Means of Last Resort” can be seen here.
I also published a letter from R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg and part of another letter he wrote.

These are important letters as they show R. Weinberg’s strong belief that in the modern world rabbis need to have a secular education in order to be effective. Those who read Hebrew will see very clearly where R. Weinberg stood on this issue, and that for all his love and respect for the haredi roshei yeshiva, intellectually and spiritually he was not part of their world.
7 Finally, we come to what I have termed ArtScroll’s latest betrayal. These are harsh words, but I believe them to be entirely justified. It is one thing to censor R. Zevin, or to cut out passages from other recent works. But to do this with rishonim is a completely different matter. After my book appears, I will discuss a number of examples of censorship that for one reason or another I did not include in the book, as well as examples that I only became aware of after the book was in press. However, this is such an important example that I did not want to wait. Its importance is such that I have no doubt that according to halakhah, anyone who demands a refund from ArtScroll is entitled to his money back, as what I will show you is nothing less than a betrayal not only of the reader, who paid good money to get what he thought was a complete mikraot gedolot chumash, but also of one of the greatest rishonim, R. Samuel ben Meir (Rashbam).

Soon after Rosh ha-Shanah 2014, ArtScroll released the first volume of its mikraot gedolot chumash. It is a beautifully typeset edition, completely punctuated. The response was so positive that within a month the volume was reprinted, and it would not be a surprise if the ArtScroll mikraot gedolot became the new standard.
One of the new elements of this edition is that Rashbam to Genesis chapter 1 is included, which is not the case with the old mikraot gedolot chumashim. (It is found in the Mossad ha-Rav Kook Torat Hayyim mikraot gedolot). As you can see on this page, the Rashbam’s commentary is taken from the Rosin edition (which is where the commentary to Gen. ch. 1 first appeared).

In his commentary to chapter 1 Rashbam advances the notion that according to the peshat of the Torah, the day does not start in the evening, but in the morning. This is only one of many examples where Rashbam’s commentary explains biblical verses in accordance with the peshat, and in opposition to the rabbinic understanding. He even states that according to the peshat the commandment of tefillin in Exodus 13:9 is not to be understood literally.[22] Of course, Rashbam put on tefillin, but in this case he was only explaining what he thought the peshat was. Similarly, he began Shabbat in the evening, not in the morning, but this did not stop him from offering a peshat that differed from the halakhah.
For some reason, ArtScroll finds this difficult to take, and therefore decided to delete all of Rashbam’s “problematic” comments regarding the beginning and end of the day. I repeat, since I know this will be hard for people to believe: ArtScroll omitted portions of Rashbam’s commentary from its mikraot gedolot.

Here is Rashbam’s commentary on Gen. 1:4 and 1:5 in the Rosin edition.

Now look at ArtScroll’s version of Rashbam’s commentary to Gen. 1:4 and 1:5. Entire sections of his commentary to each of the verses have been omitted!

Here is Rashbam’s commentary to Gen. 1:8 in the Rosin edition.

Here is how the commentary to Gen. 1:8 appears in ArtScroll.

Again you can see that a section of the commentary has been deleted.
Here is Rashbam’s commentary to Gen. 1:31 in the Rosin edition.

ArtScroll completely omits this short comment.
It is not only in Genesis chapter 1 that Rashbam’s that has been tampered with. I only skimmed a few other places and I found the following problem with Gen. 49:16. The first words in ArtScroll’s version of Rashbam commentary are המפרש על שמשון.

Yet look at the Rosin edition where the first word is המפרשו.

Small emendations such as this are obviously not acceptable, but they are in an entirely different category than the censorship in Genesis chapter 1.
I also found problems with ArtScroll’s punctuation of Rashbam. For example, in his commentary to Gen. 37:2, which is one of his most famous passages, Rashbam states that he heard from his grandfather (Rashi) that if he had time he would write new commentaries לפי הפשטות המתחדשים בכל יום. The word הפשטות is to be vocalized as ha-peshatot, i.e., the plural of peshat. ArtScroll has the mistaken vocalization ha-pashtut. Later in this verse Rashbam writes (in the Rosin version) לפי דרך ארץ קורא אחיו. ArtScroll has קרא, changing the verb from participle to perfect. I have not gone through even one chapter of the book, comparing Rosin’s edition to ArtScroll (not to mention other commentaries). If I were to do so, I am sure many more such examples would be revealed.
This post does not need any long conclusion, as the evidence speaks for itself. I would only add that when modern publishers feel that they can start deleting commentaries of rishonim, then we have reached a new low. Will students of Torah, those who treasure the words of Rashbam, tolerate this betrayal? I think (hope) not, which is why it is imperative that in the next printing ArtScroll reinsert the words of Rashbam.

[1] “Sifrei Arukh ha-Shulhan – Seder Ketivatam ve-Hadpasatam,” Hitzei Giborim 7 (2014), p. 518.
[2] See Elon, “Dinei Hasgarah be-Mishpat Ivri,” Tehumin 8 (1987), pp. 263-286, id. “Bisus ha-Ma’arekhet ha-Mishpatit al Dinei ha-Torah,” ibid., pp. 304-309; R. Yisraeli, “Hasgarat Avaryan le-Shiput Zar,” ibid., pp. 386-297. (also found in Yisraeli, Havot Binyamin, no. 23). R. Eliezer Waldenberg agreed with Elon. See Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 19, no. 52 (end).
[3] Among those who agree with R. Yisraeli is R. Menasheh Klein, Mishneh Halakhot, vol. 17, no. 108. (Look who this responsum is addressed to.)

Since I just mentioned R. Klein, let me present another responsum of his, from 1987, which unlike the others he sent me was not included in Mishneh Halakhot. It is published here for the first time.

The reason he did not include it in his responsa was undoubtedly because the “letter” he disputes is by none other than R. Kook, and R. Klein did not want to be associated with R. Kook even if he disputes with him. That explains why he won’t even mention his name here. In fact, when R. Klein cites a book published by Mossad ha-Rav Kook, he simply writes הוצאת קוק. See Mishneh Halakhot, vol. 10, p. 382. See also vol. 8, p. 78 where he writes הוצאת רמב”ן קוק.
Here is the letter from R. Kook to which R. Klein is responding (Iggerot ha-Re’iyah, vol. 1, pp. 99-100).

[4] See also p. 20 n. 13, where R. Rabinovitch points to another example where he thinks that R. Epstein’s formulation was influenced by fear of the government.
[5] Eretz Hemdatenu (Haifa, n.d.), p. 139.
[6] Masa Ovadiah (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 341.
[7] Eretz Hemdatenu, p. 139.
[8] The Pillar of Volozhin (Boston, 2012),  pp. 17-18, n. 37. This too is perhaps not the best transliteration, as in most texts the ayin in העמק has a sheva. In a minority of texts it has a hataf patah.
[9] Regarding R. Henkin, see my post here.

After that post appeared a member of R. Moshe Feinstein’s family wrote to me as follows:

I spent a great deal of time learning with and talking to Reb Moshe, both on the East Side and in the mountains.  He unambiguously told me exactly what you quote from Rav Henkin.  He explained that the Aruch Hashulchan was a Rav, while the Mishna Berura was a Rosh Yeshiva, and the psak of a Rav is better authority.  Therefore, when he was unwilling to make his own determination, he would follow the AH over the MB.  I mentioned this story to Rabbi Dovid Zucker, Rosh Kollel of Kollel Zichron Shneur in Chicago, and he told me that he heard precisely the same thing from his Rebbi, Rav Yaakov Kaminetzki.

R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin wrote to me as follows:

I notice in Seforimblog from Jan. 26 ’08 that you quote R’ Ratzabi, concerning the superiority of MB [Mishnah Berurah] over AH [Arukh ha-Shulhan], as stating  that the CI [Chazon Ish] wrote that MB is ‘like the Sanhedrin.’ He is undoubtedly referring to Igrot CI pt. 2 no. 41 which is widely misquoted in this regard. The CI says only that a ruling of the Bet Yosef and MA and MB all together– and that no one disagrees with– is like a ruling of the Sanhedrin, ayen sham. (The CI could hardly have thought that MB alone is like the Sanhedrin, as he disagrees with him in practice dozens of times.) By coincidence, I wrote this in Hatzofeh on Feb. 8 ’08. Incidentally,  R’ Menashe Klein, in comments in BB [Bnei Banim] vol.1 p. 225, attributed the popularity of MB almost to a bat kol. I expressed my surprise. Later when he reprinted his comments in Mishne Halachot he omitted the term.

[10] See R. Eitam Henkin’s (unsigned) review of this edition in Alonei Mamre 120 (2007), pp. 119-124. The Hafetz Hayyim was aware of the fact that the popularity of the Mishnah Berurah led to a decline in study of the Magen Avraham. See Meir Einei Yisrael (Bnei Brak, 2004), vol. 5, p. 403.
[11] One reader called my attention to Tory Vandeventer Pearman, Women and Disability in Medieval Literature (New York, 2010), p. 80, who discusses how cutting off the nose of an adulterous woman was a common punishment and parallel to male castration. R. Menachem Sheinkopf reminded me of Hut ha-Meshulash (Munkacs, 1984), p. 38a, which records how the Hatam Sofer in his youth witnessed the sentencing to death of an informer. This text was deleted from the next edition of Hut ha-Meshulash. See Meir Hildesheimer, “The Attitude of the Hatam Sofer toward Moses Mendelssohn,” PAAJR 60 (1994), p. 155 n. 50. It is also reported that as a youth, the Hatam Sofer personally killed an anti-Semite. See Siah Sarfei Kodesh (Bnei Brak, 1989), vol. 4, p. 154. (I don’t think that this report has any substance).
[12] One example I have often given to illustrate this was that today every rabbi will be happy to speak about how Judaism opposes slavery, and that the slavery mentioned in the Torah was far removed from the slavery in pre-Civil War days. Yet two hundred years ago, plenty of rabbis would have found nothing objectionable with Southern slavery. (When I write “every rabbi” in the first sentence of this note, it is an exaggeration. See my post here. See also R. Avigdor Miller, Q&A, vol. 2, p. 12, that it was a mistake for Lincoln to free the slaves, as they could have used another 50 or 100 years of slavery in order to “civilize” them.)
[13] Published in Mordechai Wilensky, ed., Hasidim u-Mitnagdim (Jerusalem, 1970), vol.. 2 p. 117. This strange passage is mentioned by David Biale, Eros and the Jews (Berkeley, 1997), p. 125.
[14] Wilensky leaned in this direction, see ibid., p. 112.
[15] Ibid., p. 120.
[16] Ibid., p. 119.
[17] (Jerusalem, 1910), p. 51b (second pagination)
[18] Mishnah, Sotah  1:5.
[19] Ibid. Although the Mishnah states אם היה לבה נאה this is obviously a euphemism for breasts. As is to be expected, R. Jacob Emden, Lehem Shamayim, ad loc., has something to say on this passage. How does the kohen know that she has attractive breasts, to know whether or not they can be revealed? Emden states that he heard as much from her husband. But this answer does not satisfy him, for סתם אשה כל יופי שלה שם הוא. As support for this notion, he cites Berakhot 10b שאחזה בהוד יפיה, which Rashi explains to mean “breasts” If he was more of a fan of the Zohar perhaps he would have cited Zohar, Bereshit 45a: ושפירו דאתתא באינון שדים . Zohar, Shemot 80b, states
ר’ אבא פתח (שיר השירים, ח,ח) אחות לנו קטנה ושדים אין לה מה נעשה לאחותנו ביום שידובר בה. אחות לנו קטנה דא כנסת ישראל דאקרי אחות לקב”ה. ושדים אין לה היינו דתנינן בשעתא דקריבו ישראל לטורא דסיני לא הוה בהון זכוון ועובדין טבין לאגנא עלייהו דכתיב ושדים אין לה דהא אינון תקונא ושפירו דאתתא ולית שפירו דאתתא אלא אינון
See also R. Yitzhak Ratsaby, Olat Yitzhak, vol. 2, p. 390. The second quote from the Zohar shows the importance of understanding the literal meaning of Song of Songs in order to appreciate the allegory.
[20] See Mishneh Torah, Tum’at Tzara’at 9:12.
[21] Pesakim u-Khetavim, Yoreh Deah no. 99 (p. 327). On this page R. Herzog also states we should require all ba’alei teshuvah, especially public Sabbath violators, to immerse themselves in the mikveh. This is the upshot of the Vilna Gaon’s comment to Shulhan Arukh, Yoreh Deah 268:30.
[22] Commentary to Ex. 13:9.


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.


Censorship: The Autobiography of R. Eliyahu David Rabinowitz, ADeReT

Censorship: The Autobiography of R. Eliyahu David Rabinowitz, ADeReT

There are a handful of rabbinic autobiographies, R. Yehuda Areyeh of Modena, Hayyei Yehudah, R. Yaakov Emden, Megillat Sefer, and a few others.[1]  One of the more recent rabbinic autobiographies is that of R. Eliyahu David Rabinowitz, otherwise known as Aderet.  This work, was first published in the journal, Ha-Peles edited by Aderet’s nephew, Eliyahu Akiva Rabinowitz.  Only a portion of the autobiography appears in Ha-Peles. However, the editor did give us the title of this work for posterity.  Although Aderet did not title the work, in Ha-Peles it appears under the title, Seder Eliyahu, this title remains today.[1a] In reality, Seder Eliyahu is one part of three part work, the second part, Nefesh David, records various customs (and has been reprinted a few times), and the third part, regarding how to handle Aderet’s body after his death, Achar Eliyahu or Acharei David, apparently was never written. 

Aderet’s autobiography was first published in its entirety in 1983 by Mossad ha-Rav Kook.   The Mossad received the manuscript from Aderet’s grandson.  As will become apparent, much of what was written, prior to 1983, regarding Aderet is lacking because  prior to its publication in 1983,  his autobiography was virtually unknown.  As an aside, the New Encyclopaedia Judaica reuses the article on Aderet from the original Encyclopaedia Judaica and is but one example of the shortcomings of the New Encyclopaedia, for more examples see Dr. Leiman’s critique here, and Dr. Havlin’s critique here, and Dr. Richler’s critique here of the New Encyclopaedia Judaica. 

The 1983 edition, however, has been out-of-print for years, and this year, some of Aderet’s desendents republished Seder Eliyahu (additionally, they also reprint Nefesh David in this volume).  The editors of this new edition thank Mossad ha-Rav Kook for allowing them to reprint this work.  But, in their introduction, they argue that Aderet “never intended to publish this work and allow others to read it, instead, it was meant for his family.” Seder Eliyahu, Jerusalem, 2010, at 7 (“Jer. ed.” or “New Edition”).  Based upon this assertion, the editors of this edition justify “removing various passages that were never intended for outsiders to read.”  Id. at 9.  They explain that whenever they removed text “three lines (- – -) serve to indicate missing text.”  Id.  As we shall see they are inconsistent at best at using the three dash device and many instances of removal are not noted. 

Regarding the claim that Aderet never intended this book to be published. The original publication in 1983 includes the entire text with no omissions.  Recall that this text was obtained by Mossad ha-Rav Kook from Aderet’s grandson, we have no indication that he objected to publishing the entire text.  Moreover, the first time the autobiography (partially) appeared in Ha-Peles much of the “offensive” material was included. Recall that Aderet’s nephew was the editor of Ha-Peles  and he saw no need to censore anything. Finally, although there may be some indications that an autobiography was merely written for family members and not intended for broader publication, this device is common in autobiographies.  R. Emden also implies that he didn’t intend his autobiography to be widely distributed, but as Dr. Schacter demonstrates, Emden wanted others to read it.[2]  Indeed, according to Schacter, R. Emden’s autobiography can be classified as “that of ‘autobiography as polemic.'”  As Emden writes of his purpose, “[i]n order that the sun of my righteousness should shine forth . . . [and because] many of [my enemies] libelous writings will certainly remain extant in the world for some time.  Therefore, necessity has compelled me to clarify my case before God and man. . . . Behold [this autobiography] will serve as a vindication for me, for my children and my descendants.”[3] Thus, “there is equally no question that the overriding primary impetus behind Megillat sefer was a desire on the part of Emden to clear his name and vindicate himself in his controversy with Eybeschutz,” and “[t]here is no doubt that it is the Emden-Eybeschutz controversy that serves as the ‘center of gravity’ for” Megillat Sefer.[4]  Of course, for R. Emden to be publicly vindicated, presumably the public would need to be aware of the work.[5]

With Emden’s motives in mind, it is important to distinguish Aderet’s work.  While Aderet includes descriptions of others in his work, and, at times, some of these descriptions are far from flattering, it does not appear that Aderet was looking for vindication or had a polemic motive in mind.  While Aderet did not get along with his constituents in Ponovitch, that dispute was mainly surrounding Aderet’s salary and how the community treated him.  Aderet wasn’t involved in any global disputes like the Emden-Eybeschutz controversy and thus Aderet wasn’t required to vindicate himself.  Moreover, Aderet ultimately came out on top, becoming Chief Rabbi of the Ashkenazim in Jerusalem.  Thus, he was well-respected and had no reason to resurrect his image – his image was already good.

Perhaps a better understanding of some of the material as it relates to others in Seder Eliyahu may be better understood by looking at Marcus Mosley’s comments[6] and quote from Rousseau: 

Autobiography operates upon an entirely different set of criteria. For the autobiographer, the significance of the other is determined solely by the role that he or she plays in the formation of the self, regardless of social standing. Thus Rousseau, in the “Neuchatel” variant of the preamble to the Confeinddow: “The relationships I have had with several people compel me to speak as freely of them as of myself. I can only succeed in making myself known by making them known also.” Many of the more decisive encounters with the other in the shaping of the autobiographer’s self occur in the years of childhood and adolescence. Parents, teachers, schoolmates, and domestic staff may thus achieve a prominence in the autobiography that would, in the memoir, be reserved for generals and prime ministers, renowned men of letters, and so on. This is not to say that the formative encounters with the other in an autobiography are restricted to the historically obscure. But when the great do drift in and out of the pages of an autobiography, it is often not on account of the qualities that granted them this status that they are recalled.
Thus, Aderet’s comments about others, most notably regarding R. Yitzhak Elchonon Spector, may be understood as merely providing insight into Aderet’s own life rather than commenting on R. Spector, for example.

The new edition of Seder Eliyahu, however, leaves out much of Aderet’s comments about others, depriving the reader of fully understanding the Aderet as well as distorting history.  We will provide all the examples of where the new edition has altered or removed material from the 1983 edition. 

Biography of Aderet

The basic outlines of Aderet’s biography are not in dispute.  Here are the highlights.  Aderet was born, with his twin, on the first day of Shavout in 1843.  His father was a rabbi and Aderet’s family were descendant from famous rabbinic figures from both his father’s and mother’s side.  When he was five, his mother died and his father remarried.  At twelve, Aderet began writing his first sefer, and began wearing tefflin for his entire twelth year.  At thirteen, he had his bar mitzvah and, contrary to the custom, was allowed to read the haftorah for the first day of Shavout. This haftorah is typically reserved for the rabbi or a talmid hakham due to the content of the haftorah.  But, Aderet’s father argued that it was appropriate for his son to read the haftorah.  Soon after his bar mitzvah he completed his first work with his twin brother, Shevet Achim.  At fifteen he became engaged to girl, and soon after was appointed rabbi of Ragali.  The engagement didn’t end well. His fiancee’s mother died and the step-mother was lax in her observance and the marriage was called off.  But, in due course, Aderet was engaged again to the daughter of a prominent family in Ponovitch.  This time, Aderet went through with the wedding.  He remained in Ponovitch, supported by his in-laws, and studied in a small bet midrash.  In 1875, Aderet was selected to be the rabbi of Ponovitch.  In 1893, the town of Mir approached Aderet to become its rabbi.  Aderet accepted.  Ponovitch, however, wanted its rabbi to remain, but, after receiving advice from various rabbis, eventually, Aderet left and went to Mir.  In 1901 he was invited and accepted to become Chief Rabbi of the Ashkenazim in Jerusalem.  On the 3rd of Adar I, 1905, Aderet died in Jerusalem.

Aderet is known as having a phenomenal memory.  He was also a prolific author, but much of his writings remained in manuscript.  In the last decade or so, many of his books have been published, a bibliography of which will appear soon. 

The above provides a basic outline of Aderet’s biography, but a close examination of his autobiography provides additional detail.    

Autobiography of Aderet

There are a few important gaps in Aderet’s biography that can be filled only by utilizing his autobiography.  For example, Aderet’s father’s second wife.  If one reads some of the biographies, she is mentioned only in passing.  But, Aderet explains she was no minor figure.  To the contrary, it appears that Aderet’s step-mother and his father had a horrible marriage.  Indeed, Aderet couldn’t stand her and he was especially bothered the way she treated his father.  After Aderet’s father died, Aderet immediately left town as he couldn’t bear remaining with her.  He turned down his father’s position as rabbi of Vilkomer because that would mean he would have to live in the same city as his step-mother.  Aderet recalls bitterly how he sped home once and therefore missed out on meeting various rabbis only to find out that his step-mother hadn’t told anyone he was coming and no one was there when Aderet returned causing him to miss meeting the rabbis and not seeing family.

Some biographies make it appear that Aderet had a great relationship with the people of Ponovitch.  These biographies point to the fact that when Mir approached him, Ponovitch tried its hardest to keep Aderet. But, in his autobiography Aderet explains how horrible the people of Ponovich were to him.  They paid him almost nothing and even that little amount wasn’t always timely.  He was so poor that he didn’t have his own bed and had to sleep on a few chairs.  Although Aderet had some of his children die and others were sick, for the most part, the people of Ponovitch made his life even more difficult.  The town didn’t help when he had sick children.  One particularly shocking incident was one of the Ponovitch community members became gabbi.  Aderet didn’t like waiting between Kabbalat Shabbat and Ma’ariv because waiting only meant that people ended up talking and not acting as one should in Shul.  The gabbi, however, wanted to talk and wanted a break.  Thus, when Aderet asked the hazzan to immediately begin ma’ariv, the gabbi told the hazzan “it’s not time yet.”  This type of maltreatment by the Ponovitch community members was not uncommon.  Therefore, when Mir came knocking, and, although Mir was a significantly smaller community, Aderet wanted to get out of Ponovitch and accepted Mir’s offer.

As Aderet was almost always looking to leave Ponovitch, he competed for a job in Riga.  And, although he was the most qualified candidate, the position was given to someone else. Aderet lost out on the position because R. Yitzhak Elchonon Spector backed Aderet’s rival.  Aderet was extremely upset at R. Yitzhak Elchonon and even sent a very nasty letter to R. Yitzhak Elchonon.  R. Yitzhak Elchonon’s reaction was that “the letter was so disrespectful that but for Aderet’s reputation as a talmid hakham, he [R. Yitzhak Elchonon] would see to it that Aderet couldn’t even get a job a beadle in a bet midrash.”  Aderet was so embittered by this episode he remarks that he never forgave R. Yitzhak Elchonon. This was not the only time Aderet had a falling out with R. Yitzhak Elchonon.  At a rabbinic conference, led by R. Yitzhak Elchonon, there was a miscommunication which R. Yitzhak Elchonon took personally.  As such, R. Yitzhak Elchonon refused to entertain anything else during the conference and the conference was totally unsuccessful. Aderet was appalled that R. Yitzhak Elchonon’s personal feelings didn’t allow the conference to produce anything of value. 

Aside from making Aderet’s life miserable, the treatment of the town of Ponovitch also forced Aderet to allow his son-in-law, R. Abraham Isaac Kook, to leave and take up his own rabbinic position.  Although Ponovitch had promised Aderet a higher salary, the town never came through and thus Aderet couldn’t support his daughter and son-in-law.  In his autobiography, he describes how heartbroken he was when his son-in-law and daughter left. 

Comparison of the New Edition and 1983 Edition of Aderet’s Autobiography


As noted above, the editors of the New Edition provide that they have removed material from Seder Eliyahu, and that they have noted any time anything is removed.  This is false.  Although it is true that the editors have removed material but they have not always noted when they did so.  At times removed material is noted by “- – – ” in the text, many times there is no indication that anything is missing.  Moreover, the editors are inconsistent when they alter the text.  That is, in correcting typos or when removing abbreviation, sometimes they note they are altering the text and other times they do not.  Of course, this omission is less serious than wholesale removal of text, but consistency is still important.  For example, in the 1983 edition many persons are only referred to in abbreviated form, while in the New Edition their full name is used; thus the original reads “my uncle רפ”ק” while in the New Edition it reads “my uncle Rabbi Pinchus Cantor.”  The editors don’t note that they have inserted his full name; however, whenever the text uses an abbreviation to refer to R. Shmuel Mohilever – “הגרש”מ” in the New Edition they provide his full name but do so in brackets indicating an insertion into the text. Compare 1983 ed. pp. 84 &  92 & Jer. ed. at 71 & 76. It is unclear why they decided to consistently indicate this insertion and not others.

Turning the censored materials. These materials can roughly be divided into three categories.  (1) materials that mention Zionism or are related to Zionism; (2)  in this category we include what is best described as negative comments about women and marriage; and (3) personal attacks or observations about other Rabbis.  We must note that many of these omissions have been cataloged here as well.

First Category – Zionism

Items from this category include material that appears in the footnotes to the 1983 edition as well as items in the text itself.  The New Edition resuses almost all the footnotes that appear in the 1983 edition but leave out information when that information relates to Zionism.  Thus:

1983 ed. (p. 17 n.5) provides a footnote when the text mentions R. Moshe Telsher “for more information see Sefer Zikhron le-[Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook] 1945″  Jer. Ed. (p. 15) doesn’t include this note at all. 
1983 ed.  (p. 28 n.14) contains a citation to Maimon’s Sa’arei ha-Meah, Jer. ed. (p. 26 n. 17) removes citation no notation anything is missing.
1983 ed. (p. 29 n.16) explains that R. Mordechai Gimpel Yaffo “was one who espoused emigration to Israel and himself emigrated in 1888”, Jer. ed. (p. 23 n.19) removes this text without notation.
1983 ed. (p. 59 n.46) regarding R. Mordechai Elisberg, the note explains “one of the leaders of the Hovvei Tzion movement,” Jer. ed. (p. 57 n.55), removes this text, no notation.
1983 ed. (p. 72 n.57) regarding R. Shmuel Mohliver “was the head and founder of the Hovvei Tzion movement,” Jer. ed. (p. 69 n.68) removes this text, no notation.
1983 ed. (p. 102 n.78) explaining that the author of Chavush Pe’ar “is R. Kook,” Jer. ed. (p. 96) the note is missing.

We should noted that the editors of the Jerusalem edition didn’t excise every Zionistic mention.  Instead, they retain the sentence “the Hovvei Tzion chapter in Bialystok requested that I [Aderet] give a derasha.”  Jer. ed. at 81.  Similarly, Aderet describes how heart broken he was when his son-in-law and daughter had to leave because Aderet couldn’t support them and how happy Aderet was when he met up with his son-in-law later that year and spent time together.  In the text, however, Aderet doesn’t identify by name his son-in-law.  The New Edition retains the footnote from the 1983 edition which identifies the son-in-law as “The Gaon R. Abraham Isaac Kook ZT”L.”  Jer. ed. at 60 n.57.

Second Category – comments about women

The vast majority of these changes relate to women, and specifically, when there was martial discord or divorce.  There are essentially two women whose mention is censored, Adert’s step-mother and Aderet’s nephew’s first wife.  As mentioned above, Aderet had serious issues with his step-mother and he is very vocal about those problems in his autobiography.  Additionally, Aderet’s nephew’s first marriage didn’t work out.  The first wife was the daughter of R Eliezer the chief rabbi of Anchin but she was uninterested in leading a religious life and thus this marraige ended in divorce.  Whenever mention of either of these two women occurs in Seder Eliyahu the Jerusalem edition leaves them out.  Thus, there is no mention in the Jerusalem edition that Aderet didn’t get along with his step-mother and that the nephew’s first wife wasn’t religious. Rather than explain what is missing each time, as the excised portions are generally similar, we have indicated where a passage relating to Aderet’s feelings about his step-mother is missing and where the excised passage relates to the non-religious first wife of Aderet’s nephew.  We will, however, indicate where there is missing text and the editors of the new edition fail to note that they have removed text.

Step-mother
1983 ed. (18-19) lacking in Jer. ed. (16) noted with – – –
1983 ed. (23) lacking in Jer. ed. (21) no notation
1983 ed. (35) lacking in Jer. ed. (33) noted with – – –
1983 ed. (37) lacking in Jer. ed. (35) noted with – – –
1983 ed. (46) lacking in Jer. ed. (44) noted with – – –
Non-religious wife
1983 ed. (64) lacking in Jer. ed. (60) no notation
1983 ed. (71) lacking in Jer. ed. (68) noted with – – –

There is one final example that arguably fits in this category although it relates to neither of the above mentioned women.  Instead, this instance relates to Aderet spening time in Vienna and meet R. Shlomo Netar.  As part of their conversation R. Netar related some of his problems to Aderet.  One related to his wife who is described – in the 1983 ed. (42)- as “the really horrible woman, may God save us, who is the granddaughter of R. Simcha Bunim Peshischa (or so I [Aderet] recall).” This quote is lacking in the Jer. ed. but is noted with – – -.

We should note that much of the material regarding Aderet’s step-mother appears, in toto, in a separate biography of Aderet that is appended to the beginning of Hiddushei ha-Gaon ha-Aderet, Machon Kitvei Yad ha-Aderet be-Artzot ha-Brit, Israel, 2003.  This is somewhat ironic in that this biography is very careful what it mentions, or doesn’t mention.  Specifically, although Aderet’s son-in-law (and, ultimately, after the untimely death of Aderet’s daughter and remarrying Aderet’s niece, became Aderet’s nephew), R. Abraham Isaac Kook, wrote a fine biography of Aderet, Adar ha-Yakar, and Kook’s biography is used in the biography appearing in Hiddushei, R. Kook’s name is never mentioned.  That is, the mention of R. Kook was controversial (this may be related to the fact that the publisher of this volume is a member of the Satamar sect).[7]  But, regarding Aderet’s step-mother, all that material appears in the biography in Hiddushei.  See Hiddushei, at pp. 4, 6, 8 and 10 almost all of which are taken, almost verbatim, from the autobiography. Thus, even without access to the autobiography, any reader can find the relevant passages. 

Third Category – personal observations or attacks on other rabbis

Some of these negative assesments relate to R. Yitzhak Elchonon although comments about other rabbis are also censored. 

1983 ed. (60-61) discussing Aderet’s failed bid to become Riga’s chief rabbi, and, specifically, how R. Yitzhak Elchonon sunk Aderet’s bid.  Additionally, Aderet notes that he sent R. Yitzhak Elchonon a very nasty letter explaining how disappointed Aderet was with R. Yitzhak Elchonon’s involvement and decision to pick someone else.  Jer. ed. (68) the entire story is missing and there is no notation anything was removed.  
1983 ed. (62) Aderet expresses his displeasure with some Ponovitch residents regarding salary negotiations and essentially calls them animals.  Jer. ed. (69) lacking the name calling, no notation anything is missing.
1983 ed. (78) Aderet records the comments of a beadle who questioned R. Yitzhak Elchonon’s authority.  Jer. ed. lacking but noted with – – – .
1983 ed. (79) Aderet meets someone who is wearing two pairs of teffilin neither of which are in their proper place.  Aderet goes on to explain while this person passed himself off as a miracle worker, in reality he was a fraud.  Aderet says the person “is the author of the book Kav Chen.”  This must be incorrect.  The author of Kav Chen, R. Noach mi-Koruv, died in 1855, but Aderet says this meeting took place in 1890. What is more likely is that Aderet was referring to the publisher of Kav Chen, R. Noach’s grandson, R. Hayyim Moshe Ze’ev.  In all events, rather than attempting to correct or ascertain who Aderet is referring to, the Jer. ed. (75) “solves” the problem by removing the passage “the author of the book Kav Chen” and replace it with – – -. 
1983 ed. (83) Aderet mentions “Leib Grabman” who involved the secular authorities in a communal dispute.  Jer. ed. removes “Leib Grabman” and replaced with – – -.  
1983 ed. (87-88) Aderet discusses a rabbinic conference he attended.  In attendence was also R. Yitzhak Elchonon who became personally insulted after a miscommunication.  As such, R. Yitzhak Elchonon refused to allow passage of any of the many “good ideas” the conference attendees offered.  To add insult to injury, in the Jewish press, R. Yitzhak Elchonon blamed the poor result on everyone else.  Jer. ed. (84) removes the entire story and replaced it with – – -.  
1983 ed. (91) Aderet describes some rather insulting behavior directed at him by members of the Ponovitch community, including the gabbi ignoring Aderet.  Jer. ed. (85) leaves out these stories and replaces them with – – -.
1983 ed. (93) after the Aderet leaves Ponovitch a very prominent member of the Ponovitch community died suddenly and “some people said his death was because he failed to show Aderet proper respect and to pay Aderet on time.  As such Aderet is said to have cursed the dead man and his family.”  Jer. ed. (86) removed and replaced with – – -.  
1983 ed. (98) discusses a plan, by persons unconnected to Aderet, to trick R. Yitzhak Elchonon that was ultimately unsucessful. Jer. ed. (91) removed and replaced with – – – .
1983 ed. (99) Aderet details how various rabbis/roshei Yeshiva of Mir weren’t completely honest with Aderet.  Aderet refers to these persons by name.  Jer. ed. (92) removed entirely and replaced with – – -.
1983 ed. (103-04) Aderet details attempts at thwarting him from becoming a teacher at Yeshivat Mir.  Jer. ed. (97) removed and replaced with – – -.  Inetrestingly, much of the background and history of this incident is found in Pinchus Lipschutz’s – the editor of Ya’ated Ne’eman – book Peneni Chen, Monsey, 2000, p. 17 (thanks to a Seforim Blog reader for this citation).  

Additional Comments Regarding Aderet’s Autobiography

Aside from the issues raised above, it should be noted that Aderet’s biography is full of facinating information both about him and his contemporaries as well as of general interest to students of Jewish history, custom, and law. While we intend to devote an entire post to the full contents of Seder Eliyahu we wanted to provide a few particularly interesting passages from Seder Eliyahu.  All of the following examples appear in both editions of Seder Eliyahu.  As mentioned above, Aderet, when he was in Vienna, met R. Shlomo Netar, who was also bookseller and who studied in the Yeshiva of Hatam Sofer.  R. Netar related that he was in class with Hatam Sofer’s son, R. Shimon Sofer (eventual author of Michtav Sofer), was in the same class.  R. Shimon Sofer “was often hit with sticks [by the teacher] and this was at the request of R. Shimon’s father,” Hatam Sofer.  1983 ed. at 42; Jer. ed. at 40.

A few halacha/custom related items.  Aderet records that when he travelled by ship, once the gangplank was lifted and the ship was underway he recited tefillat ha-derekh.  Someone on board the ship questioned this practice arguing that since the ship hadn’t left the city limits, one cannot recite teffilat ha-derekh.  Aderet, however, responded by distinguishing between normal overland transport and ships (and presumably airplanes).  Aderet explained that when going overland there is a fear that one may decide to return home thus one needs to wait until leaving the city limits, the point of no return.  But, once one is onboard a ship and the gangplank is removed one can’t leave and therefore one can immediately recite teffilat ha-derekh. 1983 ed. at 42; Jer. ed. at 40.

Another time, Aderet also advocated for a novel halachic position.  In this case, Aderet wanted to personally perform the circumcision of his son. But, the circumcision fell on Saturday, and, as Aderet hadn’t ever performed a circumcision previously, the rule is that one cannot perform their first circumcision on Saturday.  Aderet, however, argued that the prohibition on performing one’s first circumcision on Saturday applies if one is circumcising someone other than their own child. That is, as there is a unique obligation to circumcise one’s child that trumps the prohibition against performing the first circumcision on Saturday.  Aderet marshalled various sources that supported his position and presented his argument to R. Yosef Zechariah Stern (an equally impressive contemporary) who rejected Aderet’s argument.  Aderet concludes that he “decided to refrain from deciding law in way that runs counter to Shulchan Orach and thus would appear strange to the public.”  1983 ed. 52; Jer. ed. at 51.  

On one Saturday, there was a communal rift which resulted in the secular authorities confiscating the shul’s sefer torah.  Thus, the shul didn’t complete the weekly mandatory reading.  Although Aderet ended up hearing the reading in another shul, Aderet argued that the shul whose sefer torah was confiscated was required the next week to make up the reading it missed.  He argued this position to R. Aaron Halberstam, son of R. Hayyim Halberstam, the Sanzer Rav.  R. Aaron disagreed.  He explained that the torah reading obligation is communal in nature and so long as a community shul recited the proper reading, those in the community that missed it need not repeat it.  Aderet, however, argued that while one needs a minyan and thus is communal in nature, there is an individual obligation to read the weekly portion and if one shul didn’t hear the weekly portion then they need to recite it the next week.  [Hida in his diary/travelouge seems to support Aderet’s postion, see Ma’agel Tov ha-Shalem when he too missed the torah reading].  1983 ed. at 80; Jer. ed. at 77.

One final story relating to custom.  Aderet spends some time on why he picked particular names for his children. One name, however, is particularly noteworthy.  Aderet named one of his sons Mordechai Yonah.  Aderet explains that he picked Yonah because “of [his] mother’s name” Tova which is the Yiddish equivalent of Yonah.  This practice indicates that Aderet wasn’t bothered giving a boy a woman’s name or that naming for someone does not necessarly means using the same form as the original name.  1983 ed. at 51; Jer. ed. at 50.

Post Script Regarding Aderet’s Works & Works About Aderet

Besides for not using the Aderet’s autobiography at all or enough. It is worth pointing out that in the past recent years there has been a virtual explosion of the Aderet’s works which, until now, have remained in manuscript.  The Aderet authored over one hundred works although most still remain in manuscript and are scatered all over the world in various collections.

A few notable works of Aderet that have recently been published.  Mechon Ahavat Shalom has printed eight volumes of Aderet’s works, and, in addition, have published many shorter pieces  in their journal Mekabziel. Worth noting is the recent lengthy correspondence which Machon Ahavat Shalom printed between the Aderet and Yakov Reifman. Mechon Yerushalayim has printed three volumes of the Aderet’s comments on Humash aside from the many pieces they have printed in their journal Moriah. Additionally, there are some other volumes that have been printed from manuscripts. One worth mentioning is the Over Orach which was printed by Mechon Me’or the editor of this work proudly told me how he took out many pieces from this manuscript before printing it for the public as he felt it was not “kovod” for the Aderet. Now this censorship isn’t mentioned anywhere in the work.  Besides for the significance of the Torah found in these works which will be the subject of its own post including a in depth bibliography and description of the works. There is also much important material about Aderet’s life that can be gleaned from these recently published works. 

Below is a (non-comprehensive) list of articles discussing Aderet’s biography, although some are better than others:

Ehad be-Doro, vol. 1, 191-202
Seder Parsheyot le-Aderet, vol. 1, Machon Yerushalyim, Jerusalem, 2004, 329-99 (includes bibliography)
Shlomo Albert, Aderet Eliyahu, Jerusalem, 2003
Hiddushei ha-Gaon ha-Aderet, Machon Kitvei Yad ha-Aderet be-Artzot ha-Brit, Israel, 2003, Katzman 1-42.
Moshe Tzinovitz, Ishim u-Kehilot, Tel Aviv, 1990 128-30
Moshe Tzinovitz, Mir, Tolodot Yeshivat Mir, Tel Aviv, 1981, 175-83
Rabbotenu she-beGoleh, Jerusalem, 1996, vol. 1, 121-28
Asher Yetzaveh, Mechon Ahavat Shalom, Jerusalem, 2004, vol. 1, pp. 395-425 (Nefesh David is reprinted in this work, however, the editors fail to mention that they copied it from the 1983 ed.). 

  
Notes:
[1]  See Jacob J. Schacter, “History & Memory of Self:  The Autobiography of Rabbi Jacob Emden,” in Jewish History & Jewish Memory, Essays in Honor of Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, eds. E. Carlebach, J. Efron, D. Myers, Brandeis University Press, 1998, 429 and nn. 6-8 discussing these autobiographies and providing additional examples. Emden’s autobiography, the Kahana edition is available online at here, and here with Gershom Scholem’s notes. Scholem penned his own autobiography (although it only covers a small portion of his life), Gershom Scholem, From Berlin to Jerusalem, tr. Harry Zohn, New York, 1980. Elliot Horowitz discusses Scholem’s autobiography in Horowitz’s article, “Confessions of a Jewish Autobiography Reader,” in JQR (n.s.), 95 (1), Winter 2005, pp. 74-80 & Saverio Campanini, “A Case for Sainte-Beuve, Some Remarks on Gershom Scholem’s Autobiography,” in Creation & Re-Creation in Jewish Thought, eds. R. Elior & P. Schafer, Paul Mohr Verlag, 2005, pp. 363-400.  More recently, Scholem’s diaries have also been published, Lamentations of Youth:  The Diaries of Gershom Scholem 1913-1919, ed. & tr. A.D. Skinner, Cambridge, Mass, 2007, a review appears here.   
Returning to Emden’s autobiography aside from the Kahana edition linked to above, there is another edition published by Abraham Bick-Shauli in Jerusalem in 1979, however, Schacter has serious reservations about this edition.  Schacter’s assesment of Bick-Shauli’s edition is that it “is absolutely and totally worthless.”  Schacter, id. at 446 n.13.  Of late, someone attempted to question the authenticity of Emden’s autobiography, Schacter’s comments are equally appropriate regarding this work as well.
Regarding Modena’s autobiography, see also Ariel Rathaus, “Leon Modena’s Autobiography & His Realistic Poetics,” in Italia, ed. Robert Bonfil, Conference Supplement Series, 1, Magnes Press, Jerusalem, 2003, 131-42. Of course, regarding Modena one should always consult Howard Ernest Adelman, Success & Failure in the Seventeenth Century Ghetto of Venice:  The Life of Leon Modena, 1571-1643, unpublished doctoral dissertation, Brandeis Univ., 1985, and this post by Yitzhak and this follow-up post on Ishim ve-Shitos. Modena’s autobiography is available in excellent editions in both Hebrew and English (part of which is online at Google books here), The Autobiography of a Seventeenth-Century Venetian Rabbi: Leon Modena’s Life of Judah, ed. Mark R. Cohen, Princeton Univ. Press, 1998 (English) & Sefer Hayyi Yehuda, ed. Daniel Carpi, Tel Aviv Univ., Tel Aviv, 1985. 
Additionally, regarding Jewish autobiography generally this discussion here, and see  M. Stanislawski, Autobiographical Jews, Essays in Jewish Self- Fashioning, Univ. Washington Press, 2004.  Thanks to both Menachem Butler and Eliezer Brodt for providing many of these sources.
[1a] The Ha-Peles piece has a very nice footnote where Aderet’s sister’s erudition is described.  “She knew Hebrew and the Talmudic language. During the winter, on Friday nights, she would sit by the fire and study the responsa literature of the rishonim, such as the responsa of Rashi, Rambam, Rosh and similar titles that don’t contain pilpul. She was fluent in many responsa.  She also studied the Sefer Hassidim daily.”  She was so well-versed in Sefer Hassidim that her father, when he was unsure of a citation in Sefer Hassidim would ask her. Eliyahu Akiva Rabinowitz also records that after Aderet published an article in Yagdil Torah she read it and asked an insightful question, which Aderet subsequently published, in her name, in Yagdil Torah.  See ha-Peles, 720 n.2.
[2]  See id. at 438 and nn. 58-59 (Schacter offers citations to other similar works who employ this device).
[3] Id. at 431 quoting Megillat Sefer, Kahana ed. (“with slight corrections from the manuscript”) pp. 54-55. 
[4] Id. at 433.  
[5] Assuming that Schacter is correct regarding Emden’s motives, the lingering question is why wasn’t Megillat Sefer published during Emden’s lifetime or soon after? Emden had his own press and was not shy about publishing his own works that defended his position, no matter how controversial those works were.  Why didn’t Emden do the same with his autobiography?  Unfortunately, Schacter doesn’t address this question, perhaps in his forthcoming translation of Megillat Sefer, he will provide more background regarding the publication of Megillat Sefer.
[6] Marcus Mosley, “Jewish Autobiography:  The Elusive Subject,” in JQR (n.s.), 95, 1 (Winter 2005), 25.   
[7] The author of this biography, however, is not Satmar.  The author of the biography portion is R. Eliezer Katzman who is perhaps the only person who has demonstrated the similarities between various positions of R. Abraham Isaac Kook and the Satmar Rebbi.  See Eliezer Katzman,  in Ketonet Yosef, ed. D. Gotlieb et. al. New York, 2002.   


Book review: Asaf Yedidya, Criticized Criticism – Orthodox Alternatives to Wissenschaft des Judentums 1873 – 1956

אסף ידידיה, ביקורת מבוקרת: אלטרנטיבות אורתודוקסיות ל’מדע היהדות’ 1956-1873, 415 עמודים, ירושלים תשע”ג
Asaf Yedidya, Criticized Criticism – Orthodox Alternatives to Wissenschaft des Judentums 1873 – 1956
By Ezra Brand
Criticized Criticism is a book which I think would greatly interest any reader of the Seforim Blog. It deals with the history of the Orthodox “alternatives” to secular Jewish Studies, as well as many important issues that religious Jewish Studies scholars face.[1]  In this, it fills a definitely felt lack in Jewish historiography.  It follows a trend of recent works devoted to the history of specific aspects of Jewish Studies.[2]  The book is especially important since we do not yet have a complete history of Jewish Studies, but rather many works that focus only on slices of it.  For example, there are a number of works on the history of research into the Cairo Genizah, as well as numerous books and articles on individual researchers and institutions.[3] This is part of a larger trend in academia – the study of the history of academic disciplines themselves. Given its scholarship and readability, Criticized Criticism is likely to take a deserved place with other important works on the history of Jewish Studies.
The book does not try to encompass the entire history of the phenomenon it studies. As stated on the cover, it covers an 83-year period, from 1873 until 1956. The significance of the year 1873 is that this is the year that the Rabbinical Seminary in Berlin was opened by R’ Ezriel Hildesheimer. With the establishment of the Seminary, an “alternative,” Orthodox, Jewish Studies had an institutional home.  1956 is the year that Bar-Ilan University was opened. As Yedidya explains, Bar-Ilan was intended by its founders to continue the tradition of providing an “alternative” form of Jewish Studies, but ended up producing scholarship with essentially the same assumptions as mainstream Jewish Studies, for various reasons. The Orthodox alternative tradition no longer had an institutional home.[4]
The book begins with a general overview of the early development of Jewish Studies, starting from the early nineteenth century in Berlin (including a description of what Jewish Studies then entailed, and how it was different from traditional Jewish scholarship), and its subsequent spread to Eastern Europe. In Chapter Two, a short history of early Orthodox reactions to Jewish Studies is given.[5] At the end of this chapter, the program of the book is stated: To analyze Orthodox reactions to secular Jewish Studies, which on the one hand accept the scientific method, and on the other hand accept Orthodox principles of faith as a given. Yedidya states (pg. 72): “The first real attempt in this direction was the establishment of the Rabbinical Seminary headed by R’ Ezriel Hildesheimer in Berlin, which devoted itself among other things to Jewish Studies.” [6] In Chapter Three, the book begins its discussion of the Seminary.
The book discusses many other major figures, such as R’ Yitchak Isaac Halevi and Ze’ev Ya’avetz. Yedidya carefully analyzes their methodology and their underlying ideology.
A major portion of the book is devoted to discussing Orthodox Jewish Studies in Eretz Yisrael in the early twentieth century. Many of the scholars in this group were greatly influenced by R’ Kook, and his influence is discussed extensively. R’ Kook supported studying texts scientifically, and expanding the range of texts studied. However, R’ Kook is portrayed by Yedidya as doing so only in order to counter heretical scholarship: “R’ Kook supported the Orthodox study of ‘Jewish Studies’, as an alternative to the non-Orthodox study” (pg. 273, my
italics). Again: “R’ Kook sought to widen the scope of limmud hatorah […] and to add additional Torah subjects, which would prepare Talmidei Chachamim for intellectual creativity which would allow them to confront with the litereature of Haskalah and secular nationalism” (pg. 282, my italics). However, it appears that in fact R’ Kook believed that scientific Jewish Studies is important for its own sake. R’ Ari Shvat, in a series of articles, shows that R’ Kook had great respect for Jewish Studies, and felt that it inherently had great religious worth.[7] R’ Kook writes: “Subjecting the intellect and causing it to slumber […] is the destruction of the world […] therefore, when the attempt to cause the intellect to sleep comes in the name of ‘faith’, in the name of ‘fear of Heaven’, in the name of ‘diligence in Torah study’ and ‘doing mitzvos’, it is a terrible falsehood […] the hatred of haskalah[8] because of a faith-based bias (הנטיה האמונית) comes from the poison of heresy, which divides the domains (המחלקת את הרשויות)”.[9]
At the end of the book, Yedidya summarizes the common denominator among all the scholars attempting to defend their beliefs and create an “Orthodox alternative.” In the beginning of the book, we are told that the book will discuss scholars who are between two opposite extremes: On one side, traditional Orthodox scholars who refuse to accept the legitimacy, or usefulness, of the scientific method, and on the other side, scholars who look at the discipline of Jewish Studies as they would any other subject. Yedidya explains very nicely how the scholars about whom he writes are different from both of these extremes. Three differences – numbered – are listed for differences from the former, and six for differences from the latter. I’d like to make two observations.
In the enumeration of differences from traditional Orthodox scholars, the second difference listed is the following (pg. 372): “Secondly, from a thematic perspective, they dealt with a wide range of disciplines – Tanach, literature of Chazal, Jewish history, and Jewish philosophy, and did not focus only on specific debates with ‘problematic’ works or with introspective inner-gazing at the roots of the specific movement they are part of.” This may be meant to be implied by Yedidya, but it is important enough that it should have been mentioned explicitly: The scholars discussed by Yedidya wrote almost exclusively on Jewish history, the history of Torah Sheba’al Peh; and Tanach. (These are the titles in Critized Criticism of chapters four, five, and six, respectively. Of course, these scholars also researched traditional Jewish literature, such as R’ Chaim Heller’s edition of Sefer HaMitzvos.) Which of these scholars researched Kabbalah as did Graetz, Shadal, Jellenick, Franck, and later Scholem? Which of these scholars wrote on Jewish philosophy and science in the Middle Ages, as did Steinschneider? Which of them researched piyyutim (Zunz, Shadal, Brody), Karaism (Poznanski), or magic (Blau and Trachtenberg)? It would appear that, in fact, these scholars did not write on any subject that touched on Jews, except in one of three cases: one, if they felt they had to defend something; two, if it was important for educational purposes; three, if it was part of Talmud Torah.
The attempt at creating religious “alternatives” to secular Jewish Studies mostly ended in the 1950s, as pointed out by Yedidya. However, this is not true for the study of Tanach. Defense of the traditional understanding of Revelation, against academic Bible Studies, was relaunched with full force by R’ Mordechai Breuer in 1960. Breuer’s idea of “Bechinot” caused great controversy, but he continued to publish and teach his ideas. The yeshiva that he became associated with, Yeshivat Har Etzion in Alon Shvut, or “The Gush” as it is colloquially known, is now synonymous with an entire method of Biblical hermeneutics, known as the “The Gush method.” R’ Amnon Bazak’s pioneering book, Ad Hayom Hazeh (Tel Aviv 2013), systematically lays out for the first time possible flexibility in the traditional understanding of the Bible. “Orthodox alternatives” are alive and well.[10]
That Criticized Criticism can prompt such lively discussion is a tribute to its author and his presentation of his subject.  The book is an enjoyable and informative read, and I heartily recommend it.

 


[1] “Jewish Studies” meaning the critical, historical research into Jewish sources, using all tools and methods available, whether
history, philology, realia, or comparison to non-Jewish sources. Recently, a number of religious Jewish Studies scholars have discussed the differences between traditional methods of study and the scientific method. See, for example, the important article by Menachem Kahana (מנחם כהנא, “מחקר התלמוד באוניברסיטה והלימוד המסורתי בישיבה”, בחבלי מסורת ותמורה, רחובות
תש”ן, עמ’ 113-142), and the articles mentioned in the introduction to Sperber’s Neitvot Pesikah (דניאל שפרבר, נתיבות פסיקה, ירושלים תשס”ח). See also further, footnote 10.
[2] One of the first to study at length the history of research in Jewish Studies is the great Jewish historian Salo Baron. His essays on this topic are collected in History and Jewish Historians, Philadelphia 1964.
[3] Some of the researchers have full-length academic monographs devoted to them, usually including both a biography as well as an analysis of their works and methods.  Examples are the following (authors of the biographies in parenthesis; more information can easily be found in online catalogs): Nachman Krochmal (Jay Harris), Shlomo Yehuda Rapoport (Isaac Barzilay), Heinrich Graetz (ראובן מיכאל), Gershom
Scholem (David Biale). Others have only non-academic, popular biographies: Isaac Halevy (O. Asher Reichel), Louis Ginzberg (Eli Ginzberg), Saul Lieberman (Schochet and Spiro). Articles on individual scholars can be found in all the Jewish enyclopedias (Jewish Encyclopedia, both editions of Encyclopedia Judaica, and in the Hebrew Encyclopedia Ha’Ivrit), as well as in the following works: Getzel Kressel, Lexicon Hasifrut Ha’ivrit Bedorot Ha’achronim,  Tidhar, Encyclopedia Lechalutzei Hayishuv Ovonav, S. Federbush, Chochmat Yisrael B’Ma’arav
Eiropa, 1–3, Jerusalem 5719-5725; Encyclopedia shel HaTziyonut Hadatit, 1-5, Jerusalem 5718-5743. These last two works are the ones usually used in the work under review for biographies of people mentioned in the book; numerous other works can be found in the bibliography. Another important resource is of course Jubilee volumes, memorial volumes, and tribute articles.
[4] This is no longer completely true. The Gush Yeshiva can currently be considered an institution that offers a consistent alternative methodology, at least in regards to Tanach. See later.
[5] For some reason, Maharatz Chajes is not mentioned at all in this section.
[6] My translation of the book’s Hebrew.
[8]  This can be translated either as “Haskalah” (as in the movement) or as “education.”  R’ Kook may have been intentionally ambiguous.
[9] Orot Haemunah, ed. 5745, pg. 98. Quoted by Shvat, “Chochmat Yisrael”, near footnote 88.
[10] There is also a nascent interest in yeshivos in the academic study of Talmud and Rambam. The academic study of Talmud was experimented with by R’ Shagar, and continued in the yeshiva of Otniel, especially by R’ Yakov Nagen (Genack) and R’ Meir Lichtenstein. However, as far as I know it has not produced any “school” of methodology. R’ Shagar ultimately rejected the academic method. See the collection of his essays, B’toraso Yehege (הרב שמעון גרשון רוזנברג – שג”ר, בתורתו יהגה : לימוד גמרא כבקשת אלוקים, בעריכת זוהר מאור, אלון שבות תשס”ט). R’ Nagen discusses the religious advantages and disadvantages of the academic method in his fine article, “Scholarship Needs Spirituality, Spirituality Needs Scholarship: Challenges for Emerging Talmudic Methodologies”, Torah u-Madda Journal 16 (2012-2013), pg. 101-133 . The academic study of Rambam was pioneered by R’ Rabinowitz and R’ Sheilat in Ma’aleh Adumim. R’ Rabinowitz’s commentary on Rambam is in the same tradition as the works described by Yedidya, but is not properly an alternative, as it is not guided by a reaction to the secular, scientific study of Rambam. (The main “secular” academic expositors of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah are David Henshke and Yaakov Blidstein. Henshke used to teach in Ma’aleh Adumim.) An extension of Yedidya’s research past 1956 is desideratum. In addition, it would be interesting to analyze the relationship of the traditional Orthodox (i.e., those who not consider themselves to be participating in scientific study of texts), and especially Chareidim, to academic scholarship. In the past few decades, we have seen a phenomenon of traditional scholars being aware of academic scholarship, and even using it, but not acknowledging it. (For those interested in examples, please contact me.) For a similar phenomenon in regards to popular Chareidi literature, see the fascinating study by Yoel Finkelman, Strictly Kosher Reading: Popular Literature and the Condition of Contemporary Orthodoxy, Boston 2011.