The Meaning of the Name “Maccabee”[1]

Mitchell First

     In a previous post at the Seforim blog, Dan Rabinowitz dealt with the topic of the origin of the name “Maccabee,” and made many interesting points,[2] although he did not adequately address the issues. My intention in this essay is to offer a more thorough discussion. The name מכבי/מקבי is not found in classical Tannaitic or Amoraic literature.[3] But this is not surprising. The name was originally an additional name for Judah only and there are no references to Judah in classical Tannaitic or Amoraic literature.[4] The earliest sources that include the name in some form are works preserved by the Church: I Maccabees and II Maccabees. (These are not the original titles of these works.) I Maccabees was originally written in Hebrew,[5] but what has survived is only a Greek translation from the Hebrew (and ancient translations made from this Greek translation). II Maccabees, an entirely different work, was written in Greek. In the early Church, I and II Maccabees were considered part of the Bible.[6] I Maccabees (2:2-5) tells us that Mattathias (=Matityahu) had five sons, and that each had another name. For Joudas (=Judah), the name was Makkabaios (Gr: Μακκαβαîος.)[7] The additional names were probably given to the sons to help distinguish them from others with the same name.[8] In I Maccabees, Makkabaios is used for Judah six times. In II Maccabees, it is used for him twenty-three times.[9] To determine whether the earliest spelling of the name in Hebrew was with a כ or a ק, one must guess from the double kappa in Makkabaios what the original Hebrew letter (or letters) would have been. Fortunately, this is not hard.

Although there are exceptions, there is a general pattern in the Greek translation of the Bible of transliterating כ with chi (χ), and ק with kappa (k).[10] Usually ק is transliterated with one kappa, but sometimes two kappas are used.[11] A transliteration of כ with two kappas is very rare.[12] These same patterns hold true in I and II Maccabees. For example, if we focus on I Maccabees,[13] and look at the Greek transliteration of names, places, and months whose Hebrew spelling is known from the Bible, we find: -transliterated with χ are: כלב, זכריה, מכמש, כתים, and כסלו; -transliterated with one kappa are: יעקב, עקרבים, תקוע ,אשקלון, קדש, and קרנים; -transliterated with two kappas are: [14]עקרון and [15]הקוץ. At no time in I Maccabees is כ transliterated with kappa.[16] Thus, the spelling of Makkabaios with two kappas points strongly to a ק in the original Hebrew or Aramaic,[17] and does not mandate assuming a קק. Moreover, an original מקקב would be extremely unlikely. Hebrew and Aramaic words do not ordinarily have 4 letter roots. If we make the alternative assumption that the initial mem was not a part of the root, this does not help either. There is no root קקב in either Hebrew or Aramaic.[18] The double kappa just confirms our supposition that the original reading was ק, and not כ.[19] Based on this spelling, it seems reasonable to agree with the oft-proposed suggestion that the name is related to the Hebrew and Aramaic words מקבת and מקבא, which mean hammer.[20] As to why Judah was called by this name, one view is that the name alludes to his physical strength or military prowess.[21] But a מקבת/מקבא is not a military weapon; it is a worker’s tool.[22] Therefore, it has been suggested alternatively that the name reflects that Judah’s head or body in some way had the physical appearance of a hammer.[23] Interestingly, the Mishnah at Bekhorot 7:1 lists one of the categories of disqualifed priests as המקבן, and the term is explained in the Talmud as meaning one whose head resembles a מקבא.[24] Naming men according to physical characteristics was common in the ancient world.[25] Is it possible that Makkabaios and the other four names were Greek names?[26] The additional names for the other sons were: Gaddi (Γαδδι), Thassi (Θασσι), Auaran (Αυαραν) and Apphous (Απφους).[27] Perhaps it would have been beneficial for a Jew even as early as the age of Mattathias to have had an additional name in the Greek language. It is seen from the reference to Antigonus at M. Avot 1:3 that a “traditional” Jew circa 200 BCE could have borne a Greek name. (In the period after Judah, we know of many prominent Jews who had both a Hebrew/Aramaic name and a Greek name.[28] For example, Simon’s son John was also called Hyrcanus,[29] John’s son Judah was also called Aristobulus,[30] John’s son Yannai was also called Alexander,[31] and Yannai’s wife Shelomtziyon was also called Alexandra.[32]) But the letters μ,κ,β or μ,κ,κ,β, with any combination of vowels in between them, do not seem to correspond to any known word in ancient Greek.[33] Moreover, the two kappas also suggest that the name is not Greek. Two consecutive kappas are not typical in a Greek word.[34]

Finally, there are no non-Jewish figures from this period or any earlier period with a name like Makkabaios. This is strong evidence that the name is not a Greek one. However, our task of determining the original spelling and meaning of the additional name of Judah is not that simple. Two further issues present themselves. First, assuming that Makkabaios is a Greek representation of a Hebrew or Aramaic name, we still do not know whether the authors of I and II Maccabees knew how Judah himself, who died in approximately 160 BCE, spelled his name.

I Maccabees, which covers the period 175-134 BCE, was probably composed after the death of John Hyrcanus in 104 BCE, or at least when his reign was well advanced. This is seen from the last two sentences of the work.[35] After describing the murder of Simon and the attempted murder of Simon’s son John, the book closes with the following statement (16:23-24): As for the remainder of the history of John, his wars and his valorous deeds and his wall building and his other accomplishments, all these are recorded in the chronicle of his high priesthood, from the time he succeeded his father as high priest. [36] With regard to II Maccabees, we are told by the unknown author that it is an abridgement of an earlier work by someone named Jason of Cyrene. Cyrene is in Libya, but presumably Jason spent some time in Judea.[37] He is otherwise unknown.[38] The prevailing view is that Jason was a contemporary of Judah.[39] For example, the abridgement ends with a description of a military victory by Judah in 161 BCE, suggesting that the original work ended around this time as well. But it can be argued that the abridger ended his work before Jason did.[40] For example, the abridger writes that Jason narrated the history of Judah “and his brothers” (II Macc. 2:19). Based on this, an argument can be made that Jason’s work continued long after 161 BCE. It has also been argued that Jason wrote his work as a response to I Maccabees.[41] Even if we adopt the prevailing view that Jason was a contemporary of Judah, this does not necessarily mean that Jason knew how Judah himself spelled his name.[42]

The second issue that presents itself arises from the fact that the name is written “Machabaeus” in the Latin translation of I and II Maccabees composed by the church father Jerome (c. 400 CE).[43] There is a question whether this spelling reflects Jerome’s own spelling choice, which was perhaps made after he consulted the original Hebrew of I Maccabees,[44] or whether this was the conventional spelling of the name in the earlier Latin translations made from the Greek, which Jerome simply let stand. If this spelling was Jerome’s own and he made it after consulting with the original Hebrew of I Maccabees,[45] this would strongly suggest that the Hebrew text that he had before him spelled the name with a כ. In his translation of the Bible into Latin, Jerome almost uniformly used “ch” to represent כ.[46] Alternatively, if the “ch” spelling originated in the Latin translations before Jerome, or if it originated with Jerome, but not in consultation with the original Hebrew of I Maccabees, it would seem to be based on a Greek text which spelled the name with chi. This too would seem to reflect an original Hebrew spelling of the name with a כ. Thus, although we saw earlier that the double kappa in the Greek translation of I Maccabees suggests a ק in the original Hebrew, the evidence from Jerome’s Latin translation points in the opposite direction. Perhaps already in an early stage there were two different Hebrew spellings of the name.[47] If the Hebrew name was spelled with a כ, the meaning that suggests itself is “the extinguisher.”[48]

* * * * * * The spelling of Maccabee with a כ that is prevalent in Jewish sources today is not evidence of an original כ spelling. It is only the consequence of the spelling choice made by the author of Yosippon in the 10th century.[49] Yosippon is a historical work of anonymous authorship that was based in large part on a Latin translation of the works of Josephus.[50] Among the other sources that the author of Yosippon had before him was a Latin translation of I and II Maccabees. In the Latin translation of I and II Maccabees that was before him, Judah’s additional name was spelled “Machabaeus.” Based on this, the author of Yosippon decided to spell the name with a כ. He spelled it מכביי.[51] This spelling with a כ influenced the Rishonim thereafter. There never was a group by the name Maccabees in ancient times. How did the references to this non-existent group ever arise and how did the books get their titles? II Maccabees focuses in large part on Judah. Jonathan Goldstein, the author of I and II Maccabees in the Anchor Bible series, explains further:[52] Clement of Alexandria and Origen, the earliest of the Church Fathers to mention the books by name, call them Ta Makkabaïka, “Maccabaean Histories,” from which title persons who spoke loosely probably turned to call all the heroes in the stories “Maccabees.”[53]

The first datable occurrence of such use of “Maccabees” for the heroes is in Tertullian…ca. 195 C.E.[54] Finally, it must be pointed out that מקבי seems to be the original reading in the work now commonly referred to as Megillat Antiochus.[55] But this work is replete with errors: -It associates the name מקבי with Yochanan (John), while according to I and II Maccabees, this name is only associated with Judah. -It describes Yochanan as killing the general Nikanor in a private encounter in the area of the Temple. According to I and II Maccabees, Nikanor was killed by Judah and his forces in a battle that took place outside of Jerusalem. -It describes Judah as being killed before the Temple was retaken and describes Mattathias as stepping in to fight with the other brothers. According to I Maccabees, Mattathias died before the Temple was retaken and Judah led the brothers in battle. II Maccabees does not even mention Mattathias and describes Judah as leading the brothers in battle. -In its dating of the story of Chanukah, it erroneously assumes that the retaking of the Temple coincided with the beginning of Hasmonean rule in Palestine. In actuality, over two decades separated these events. Because of these and other errors, it is hard to treat this work as a reliable historical source on any issue.[56]

* * * * * * Some of the other, more remote, possibilities for the origin of the name are: a derivation from מקוה (hope),[57] from מחבה (one who hides),[58] or from מכאב (one who causes grief).[59] The name has also been interpreted in various ways as an acrostic.[60] Finally, on a lighter note, the suggestions of Franz Delitzsch and Filosseno Luzzatto (son of Samuel David Luzzatto) deserves mention. Delitzsch suggests that the name is a contraction of the exclamation mah ke-avi! (=who is comparable to my father!)[61] Luzzatto observes that there is a Greek term βιαιο-μάχας (biaio-machas) which means “fighting violently.”[62] If one places these words in reverse order, one gets something close to Judah’s additional name![63]

Conclusion

The two kappas in the name in the Greek translation of I Maccabees suggest that the original Hebrew from which this translation was made spelled the name with a ק. That the two kappas stem from an original כ is extremely unlikely. A ק spelling would suggest that the name is related to the Hebrew and Aramaic words מקבת and מקבא, and that the name was assigned to Judah based on either his physical strength/military prowess or based on his physical appearance. But it is also possible that neither the authors of I or II Maccabees nor Jason knew how Judah spelled his own name. Also, the fact that the name is spelled with a “ch” in Jerome’s Latin translation suggests that there may also have been a Hebrew version of I Maccabees that spelled the name with a כ.[64]

The posts related to Chanukah can be found here.

The Books of Maccabees and the Al HaNisssim prayer for Hanukah.

Reuven Kimelman

The Al HaNissim prayer inserted in the Amidah for Hanukah is a purposeful combination of 1 Maccabees with Rabbinic literature and liturgy. This becomes obvious upon comparing it with the less-developed version of Massekhet Sofrim20.6:[1]

בהודייה והודאת פלאות ותשועת כהנים
אשר עשית בימי מתתיהו בן יוחנן כהן גדול וחשמונאי ובניו
וכן עשה עמנו ה’ אלהינו ואלהי אבותינו נסים ונפלאות
ונודה לשמך לנצח
בא”י הטוב

In the Modim blessing of the Amidah, we acknowledge the wonders and the salvation of priests
that You wrought in the days of Mattathias son of Yohanan Kohen Gadol, the Hasmonean and his sons.
So perform for us Adonai our God and God of our ancestors miracles and wonders
and we will thank Your name forever.
Blessed are You Adonai, The Good One.[2]

In contrast is the Al HaNissim version of the early Medieval period that incorporates also material from 1 Maccabees. The following shows the links with Biblical and Rabbinic material, then that of Maccabees.

After the opener’s mention of God’s wondrous interventions, Al HaNissim focuses on the three agents of the Hanukah story: Greeks, God, and Israel. It goes as follows:

Al HaNissim

Opener: For the miracles, for the deliverance, for the acts of might, for the acts of salvation, and for the wondrous acts that you wrought for our ancestors in those days at this time.

Greeks

1. In the days ofMattathias, son of Yoḥanan, the distinguished priest, the Hasmonean and his sons,
2. when the evil Greek kingdom rose up against Your people Israel
3. to make them forget Your Torah and to get them to transgress Your laws

You (God)

4.You, in Your overwhelming mercy, stood by them in their time of distress,
5.You defended their cause, You sided with their grievances, You avenged them.
6.You delivered the mighty into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few,
the defiled into the hands of the undefiled, the wicked into the hands of the righteous,
7.and the perpetrators into the hands of the those committed to Your Torah.
8.And You had Your name magnified and sanctified in Your world.
9.Regarding Your people Israel:
You performed a great deliverance and redemption unto this very day.

Israel

10. Afterwards, Your children entered the Holy of Holies of Your Abode,
11. cleaned out Your Temple,
12. purified Your sanctuary,
13. and kindled lights in the courtyards of Your sanctuary,
14. and designated these eight days of Hanukah
15. for reciting “Hodu” and “Hallel” to Your great Name.

Selective line commentary based on biblical and rabbinic sources:

The Opener of Al HaNissim follows the preceding Modim blessing of the Amidah in its repetitive use of עַל and its reference to miracles and wonders —

Modim:

עַל־חַיֵּֽינוּ הַמְּ֒סוּרִים בְּיָדֶֽךָ
וְעַל נִשְׁמוֹתֵֽינוּ הַפְּ֒קוּדוֹת לָךְ
וְעַל נִסֶּֽיךָ שֶׁבְּכָל יוֹם עִמָּֽנוּ
וְעַל נִפְלְ֒אוֹתֶֽיךָ וְטוֹבוֹתֶֽיךָ שֶׁבְּ֒כָל עֵת

for our lives that are in Your hand,
and for our souls that are in Your charge ,
and for Your miracles that are daily with us,
and for Your wonders and kindnesses at all times

Al HaNissim:

עַל הַנִּסִּים
וְעַל הַפֻּרְקָן
וְעַל הַגְּ֒בוּרוֹת
וְעַל הַתְּ֒שׁוּעוֹת
וְעַל הַנִּפְלָאוֹת

For the miracles,
and for the deliverance,
and for the acts of might,
and for the acts of salvation,
and for the wondrous acts

Line 1. A Genizah version mentions only Mattathias.⁴ Since there is no known Yoḥanan or Mattathias as high priest, כֹּהֵן גָּדוֹל may indicate a distinguished priest, as 1 Mac. 2:1 designates him only as a priest of the sons of Joarib. Moreover, the term for high priest at the end of the biblical period was הַכֹּהֵן הָרֹאשׁ as in Ezra 7:5

פִּינְחָס בֶּן־אֶלְעָזָר בֶּן־אַהֲרֹן הַכֹּהֵן הָרֹאשׁ

and 2 Chronicles 31:10

וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו עֲזַרְיָהוּ הַכֹּהֵן הָרֹאשׁ לְבֵית צָדוֹק

The reference to Hasmonean is also unclear.[5]

Line 2. The same expression of Greece rising up against Israel was applied in the Midrash (Exodus Rabbah 18:2) to Rome:

מִשֶּׁעָמְדָה אֱדוֹם אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא הַסִּימָן הַזֶּה יִהְיֶה בְּיֶדְכֶם בַּיּוֹם שֶׁעָשִׂיתִי לָכֶם תְּשׁוּעָה וּבְאוֹתוֹ הֱיוּ יוֹדְעִים שֶׁאֲנִי גוֹאַלְכֶם

Lines 6-7. The initial references to the “mighty” and the “many” refer to the Greeks while the concluding references to the “wicked” (וּרְשָׁעִים) and the “evil perpetrators” (וְזֵדִים) refer to the Hellenizing wicked of Israel, as in Daniel 11:32:

וּמַרְשִׁיעֵי בְרִית יַחֲנִיף בַּחֲלַקּוֹת וְעַם יֹדְעֵי אֱלֹהָיו יַחֲזִקוּ וְעָשׂוּ (דניאל יא:לב)

and in Nehemiah 9:16, 29:

(נחמיה ט:טז, כט) וְהֵם וַאֲבֹתֵינוּ הֵזִידוּ וַיַּקְשׁוּ אֶת־עָרְפָּם וְלֹא שָׁמְעוּ אֶל־מִצְוֺתֶיךָ

Thus, the contrast with the positive-oriented, Israel-oriented phrase

“those committed to Your Torah” of line 7.

The middle transitional one, “the defiled into the hands of the undefiled,” may be Janus-faced, encompassing both Greeks and Hellenizers.

Line 8. is based on the opening of the geonic Kaddish[6]

יִתְגַּדַּל וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא בְּעָלְמָא

“May His name become magnified and sanctified in the world”
and alludes to the terminology of the miniature Shema at the beginning of Shaḥarit,⁷ which also mentions God’s salvation.

קַדֵּשׁ אֶת־שִׁמְךָ עַל מַקְדִּישֵׁי שְׁמֶֽךָ
וְקַדֵּשׁ אֶת־שִׁמְךָ בְּעֹלָמֶֽךָ
וּבִישׁוּעָתְ֒ךָ תָּרוּם וְתַגְבִּֽיהַּ קַרְנֵֽנו
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְי מְקַדֵּשׁ אֶת־שִׁמְךָ בָּרַבִּים

1. Sanctify Your Name through those who sanctify Your Name
2. and sanctify Your Name in Your world.
3. And by Your salvation may our status be raised and exalted.
4. Blessed (are) You A-donai who sanctifies Your Name in public.

Line 9. The use of the Aramaic term for salvation פּוּרְקָן is common in geonic liturgy as in Yekum Purkan

יְקוּם פּוּרְקָן מִן שְׁמַיָּא
וְתִּתְפָּרְקוּן וְתִשְׁתֵּזְבוּן מִן כָּל עָקָא

and in some versions of Kaddish

וְיַצְמַח פּוּרְקָנֵהּ וִיקָרֵב (קֵץ) מְשִׁיחֵהּ

Line 15. The terms hallel and hodu appear together in Ezra 3:11; 2 Chronicles 5:13 and possibly 1 Mac. 4:24. Hodu may designate a specific liturgical response as in Psalms 106:1, 107:1, 118:1; 1 Chronicles 16:34, 41; 2 Chronicles 5:13; 7:3, 6; 16:41; 20:21, whereas Hallel may designate the liturgical use of Psalms 113-118, as is the practice on Hanukah.

Al HaNissim also integrates Hanukah-specific material from the Books of Maccabees.
The following lines of Al HaNissim have their parallels in 1 Maccabees.

Line 3: to make them forget Your Torah and to get them to transgress Your laws
Mac.1:49 : so as to forget the Torah and violate all the commandments

Line 6: You delivered the mighty into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few,the defiled into the hands of the undefiled, the wicked into the hands of the righteous,
1Mac. 3:18: “Judah said: It is easy for many to be delivered into the hands of the few. Heaven sees no difference in gaining victory through the many or through the few.

Lines 7. and the perpetrators into the hands of the those committed to Your Torah.
10. Afterwards, Your children entered the Holy of Holies of Your Abode,
11. cleaned out Your Temple,
12. purified Your sanctuary,
1 Mac. 4:42-48:

“He (Judah)…, appointed unblemished priests committed to the Torah
who purified the sanctuary
and removed the defiled stones into an unclean place .
They deliberated what to do with the profaned altar…
they tore it down and stored it in the Temple….
Taking uncut stones as prescribed by the Torah,
they built a new altar after the pattern of the old.
They repaired the sanctuary and hallowed the interior of the house and the courts …

Line 13. and kindled lights in the courtyards of Your sanctuary

1 Mac. 4:49-50:

They made also new holy vessels, and into the temple they brought lampstand,
….
and lit the lamps on the lampstand that they might give light in the Temple.

Opener: in those days at this time.

Lines 14. and designated these eight days of Hanukah
15. for reciting “Hodu” and “Hallel” to Your great Name.

1 Mac. 4:54-56:

On the very time of year and on the very day on which the gentiles had profaned the altar, it was dedicated to the sound of singing…
The entire people prostrated themselves and bowed and gave thanks to God
Who had brought them victory.
For eight days they celebrated the dedication of the altar joyfully

1 Mac. 4:59

Judas and his brothers and the entire assembly of Israel decreed that the days of the dedication of the altar should be observed at their time of year annually for eight days, beginning with the twenty-fifth of the month of Kislev, with joy and gladness.

^{2 Mac. 10:6, 8}

They celebrated it for eight days with rejoicing,
in the manner of the Festival of Sukkot…
They decreed by public edict, ratified by vote, that the whole nation of the Jews should observe these days every year.

The report of the Talmud underscores the miracle of the lights:

Shabbat 21b

.מַאי חֲנוּכָּה? דְּתָנוּ רַבָּנַן: בְּכ״ה בְּכִסְלֵיו יוֹמֵי דַחֲנוּכָּה תְּמָנְיָא אִינּוּן דְּלָא לְמִסְפַּד בְּהוֹן וּדְלָא לְהִתְעַנּוֹת בְּהוֹן
.שֶׁכְּשֶׁנִּכְנְסוּ יְווֹנִים לַהֵיכָל טִמְּאוּ כׇּל הַשְּׁמָנִים שֶׁבַּהֵיכָל
,וּכְשֶׁגָּבְרָה מַלְכוּת בֵּית חַשְׁמוֹנַאי וְנִצְּחוּם
,בָּדְקוּ וְלֹא מָצְאוּ אֶלָּא פַּךְ אֶחָד שֶׁל שֶׁמֶן שֶׁהָיָה מוּנָּח בְּחוֹתָמוֹ שֶׁל כֹּהֵן גָּדוֹל
.וְלֹא הָיָה בּוֹ אֶלָּא לְהַדְלִיק יוֹם אֶחָד
.נַעֲשָׂה בּוֹ נֵס וְהִדְלִיקוּ מִמֶּנּוּ שְׁמוֹנָה יָמִים
לְשָׁנָה אַחֶרֶת קְבָעוּם וַעֲשָׂאוּם יָמִים טוֹבִים בְּהַלֵּל וְהוֹדָאָה

What is Hanukkah? The Sages taught: On the twenty-fifth of Kislev, the days of Hanukkah are eight. One may neither eulogize or fast on them.
When the Greeks entered the Sanctuary they defiled all the oils that were in the Sanctuary.
And when the Hasmonean monarchy vanquished them,
they searched and came up with only one cruse of oil with the seal of the High Priest, only enough for one day of lighting.
A miracle occurred and they lit from it for eight days.
The next year, they fixed these days as holidays by reciting Hallel and the Prayer of Thanksgiving.[8]

.תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן: מִצְוַת חֲנוּכָּה, נֵר אִישׁ וּבֵיתוֹ
.וְהַמְהַדְּרִין, נֵר לְכׇל אֶחָד וְאֶחָד
וְהַמְהַדְּרִין מִן הַמְהַדְּרִין
בֵּית שַׁמַּאי אוֹמְרִים: יוֹם רִאשׁוֹן מַדְלִיק שְׁמֹנָה, מִכָּאן וְאֵילָךְ פּוֹחֵת וְהוֹלֵךְ
וּבֵית הִלֵּל אוֹמְרִים: יוֹם רִאשׁוֹן מַדְלִיק אַחַת, מִכָּאן וְאֵילָךְ מוֹסִיף וְהוֹלֵךְ וּבֵית הִלֵּל
,טַעְמָא דְּבֵית שַׁמַּאי כְּנֶגֶד פָּרֵי הַחַג
וְטַעְמָא דְּבֵית הִלֵּל דְּמַעֲלִין בַּקֹּדֶשׁ וְאֵין מוֹרִידִין

The Sages taught: The mitzvah of Hanukah is to have a light kindled by the head of the household (for his household each day).
The meticulous kindle a light for each and every one in the household.
The extra meticulous adjust the number of lights daily:
According to Beit Shammai: On the first day one kindles eight and decreases by one for the next seven days.
According to Beit Hillel: On the first day one kindles one and increases by one for the next seven days.
Beit Shammai’s reasons that the number of lights corresponds to the bulls of the festival of Sukkot: which declined by one each day.
Beit Hillel’s reasons that the number of lights increases, regarding matters of holiness one upgrades not downgrades.

Beit Shammai’s reference to Sukkot matches that of 2 Mac. 10:6. It aims to recapture the past event. Beit Hillel aims to recapture the wonder of the growing miracle.

Lines 13-14 of Al HaNissim are purposely ambiguous.

On the one hand, they allow for the two going interpretations.

That of the Maccabees that the eight-day festival was based on the biblical precedent of the dedication of the first Temple under Solomon in 1 Kings 8:66, 2 Chronicles 7:9, and 2 Mac. 2:12 along with making up for the eight-day holiday of Sukkot (2 Mac. 10:6) for which there had been no access to the Temple two months earlier that year.

On the other hand, the association of the kindling of lights with eight days allowed it to be also grasped talmudically as referring to the miracle of the burning of the oil for eight days as is still understood.

Compare this with the less-developed version of Massekhet Sofrim that makes no mention of the oil miracle as opposed to the explicit reference to the miracle of the oil in Megillat Antiochus 76-80:[9]

After these things, the sons of the Ḥashmonai came into the Sanctuary, restored the gates, repaired the breaches, and cleansed the hall of the dead and of all its impurity. And they sought pure olive oil with which to light the Menorah, but they found only one little vessel sealed with the seal of the High-Priest and they knew it to be pure. And it contained but sufficient oil for one day. But the God of Heaven Who caused His presence to dwell in the Sanctuary, gave His blessing and it sufficed to light the Menorah eight days.

Therefore did the sons of the Ḥashmonai together with the Israelites ordain that these eight days be ever celebrated as days of joy and feasting along with the festivals ordained in the Torah; that candles be lit to commemorate the victory they achieved through the God of Heaven.

Megillat Antiochus’s explicit mention of the miracle of the oil stands in contrast to Massekhet Sofrim’s lack of mention.¹⁰ Nonetheless, it concludes that the candles are to “be lit to commemorate the victory they achieved through the God of Heaven.” Al HaNissim, further navigates between the two with its ambiguous ending, saying:

וְהִדְלִֽיקוּ נֵרוֹת בְּחַצְרוֹת קָדְשֶֽׁךָ .13

וְקָבְ֒עוּ שְׁמוֹנַת יְמֵי חֲנֻכָּה אֵֽלּוּ .14

לְהוֹדוֹת וּלְהַלֵּל לְשִׁמְךָ הַגָּדולְ 15

which so sounds like the last two lines of the Rabbinic formulation of the miracle of the oil–

נַעֲשָׂה בּוֹ נֵס וְהִדְלִיקוּ מִמֶּנּוּ שְׁמוֹנָה יָמִים.
לְשָׁנָה אַחֶרֶת קְבָעוּם וַעֲשָׂאוּם יָמִים טוֹבִים בְּהַלֵּל וְהוֹדָאָה

— that it was taken as its equivalent.

The validation of both the Maccabean and the Talmudic account enabled all to join in celebrating Hanukah holiday for eight days by lighting lights.¹¹

The ambiguity of Al HaNissim casts its shadow over its epitome, HaNeirot Hallalu, recited after the kindling of the lights . Besides alluding to 1 Mac. 4:42 in referring to the unblemished priests as “Your holy priests,” it also links the miracles, reusing at the beginning and the end three of the terms from the opener of Al HaNissim, with the eight days without spelling out the specific miracle in contrast to the Talmudic assertion to which it alludes (as color-coordinated below)

albeit assumed by all.

It states:

HaNeirot Hallalu

These lights that we kindle are
For the miracles, for the wondrous acts, and for the acts of salvation –
which You wrought then at this time for our ancestors through Your holy priests.
For all eight days of Hanukah these lights are special, used only for gazing.–
In order to give thanks and say Hallel to Your great name
for Your miracles, for Your wondrous acts, and for Your acts of salvation.

By finessing the basis of Hanukah – be it the miraculous victory, the rededication of the Temple, or the miracle of the oil – all can find their way to welcome in the celebration of the festival of lights.

Reuven Kimelman

[1] For the lateness of chapters 10-21 of Sofrim, see Debra Blank, “It’s Time to Take Another Look at ‘Our Little Sister’ Soferim: A Bibliographical Essay,” JQR 90 (1999): 1-26, p. 4, n. 10. In any case, the version matches a Palestinian Genizah text which, however, adds a reference to “the evil Greek kingdom that rose against them” (Ezra Fleischer, Statutory Jewish Prayers: Their Emergence and Development [Hebrew], 2 vols., ed. S. Elizur and T. Beeri (Jerusalem: The Magnes Press, 2012):1:182.
[2] For הטוב (“The Good”) as an epithet for God, see my forthcoming book The Rhetoric of the Jewish Liturgy: A Historical and Literary Commentary on the Daily Prayer Book, London: The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, Chapter 8, n.326. Here it corresponds to the Divine epithet at the conclusion of the Modim blessing, הַטּוֹב שִׁמְךָ (“Your name is The Good”), or הַטּוֹב לְךָ לְהוֹדוֹת.
[3] The versions in the geonic Seder Rav Amram Gaon (Amram b. Sheishna), ed. E. D. Goldschmidt (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1971), p. 97; and Siddur Rav Sa‘adya Gaon. ed. I. Davidson, S. Asaf, and B. Joel (Jerusalem: Mekize Nirdamim, 1970), p. 255, lacks this, but add המלחמות והפדות (“the wars and the redemption”), making for six terms. There are other variants in other siddurim; see Maḥ̣zor Vitry. R. Simḥah Me-Vitry, ed. A. Goldschmidt, 6 vols. Jerusalem: Oṣar Ha-Posqim, 5764-5769 (2004-2023), 1:116; Ismar Elbogen, Jewish Liturgy: A Comprehensive History, Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1993, p. 52 (a translation by R. Schendlin of Ha–Tefillah Be–Yisrael Be–Hitpatḥutah Ha–Historit, Dvir: Tel Aviv,1972), p. 45; and Ephraim Zlotnik, Meqorei Ha-Tefillah: Ta’ameha, Nosḥoteha, U-Minhageha, 3 Vols., (Jerusalem, 2011-2021): 1:209-212. For mentions of Al HaNissim in general in geonic literature, see Neil Danzig, Introduction to Halakhot Pesuqot with a Supplement to Halakhot Pesuqot [Hebrew] (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary, 1993), pp. 240-241.
[4] See Stefan Reif, Jewish Prayer Texts from the Cairo Genizah: A Selection of Manuscripts at Cambridge University Library (Leiden: Brill, 2016), p. 274, with n. 16.
[5] See Mitchell First, “The Identity and Meaning of Chashmonai,” The Seforim Blog (here).
[6] For Kaddish as a geonic liturgy, see reference in n. 2, chapter 9.
[7] For the context there, see reference in n. 2, chapter 3, section 6.
[8] This may refer to Al HaNissim which is incorporated in the Modim (= Thanksgiving); see the beginning of the citation from Massekhet Sofrim, above, at n. 1; and Jonathan Goldstein, I Maccabees (AB 42) (Garden City: Doubleday, 1976), pp. 286-87. Regarding the alleged parallel in Megillat Ta‘anit, see Vered Noam, “The Miracle of the Cruse of Oil: The Metamorphosis of a Legend,” HUCA 73 (2002), pp. 191-226.
[9] The numbering follows the version in Adolph Jellinek, ed. Bet Ha–Midrasch, 2 vols., 6 books (Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1967), 6:7-8. See the Aramaic with Arabic translation in S. A. Wertheimer, ed., Batei Midrashot, 2 vols. (Jerusalem: Ktav Ve-Sefer, 1968): 1:329-330, lines 79-86.A later rabbinized version understandably only mentions the miracle of the oil; see Jellinek, ibid., 1:141.
[10] Since their dating, as Al HaNissim, is unclear no statement is made on historical development, only content difference.Nonetheless, mention of the miracle of the cruse of oil seems to be absent from Palestinian sources.
[11] See Goldstein (above, n. 8) pp. 283-284.

Review of ‘After Revelation: The Rabbinic Past in the Medieval Islamic World’, by Marc D. Herman

Reviewed by Eliyahu Krakowski

Dr. Marc Herman’s After Revelation: The Rabbinic Past in the Medieval Islamic World (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2025) examines shifting conceptions of Torah she-beʿal peh within the Judeo-Islamic world from the geonic period through the time of Maimonides.[1] Beginning with Rav Saadya Gaon and concluding with the Rambam, Herman traces a gradual reorientation away from the geonic understanding of Torah she-beʿal peh as wholly revealed toward the Maimonidean position, in which human interpretation plays a constitutive role in the formation of rabbinic law. Alongside his analysis of Jewish legal sources, Herman situates these developments within their broader intellectual environment, drawing careful parallels to contemporaneous trends in Islamic jurisprudence and legal theory. In tracing this shift, the book clarifies how medieval Jewish thinkers conceptualized the authority of Torah she-beʿal peh, and how those conceptions correspond to broader jurisprudential models current in the Islamic world.

But beyond its central thesis, the book assembles a substantial body of sources bearing on a range of foundational questions, including rabbinic authority, legal innovation, and the historical development of Torah she-beʿal peh. Many of the texts Herman discusses are drawn from recently published fragments or from manuscripts that remain unpublished, and several appear to have received little or no attention in prior scholarship. Rather than offering a comprehensive or conventional review, I will focus here on a selection of sources that I found particularly significant and that contribute to a more precise understanding of several of the issues under discussion. Because Herman’s treatment of these materials is often brief, expanding upon certain sources and arguments in greater detail is worthwhile.

1. Adding to Torah Prohibitions and the Tree of Knowledge 

The story of Adam and Eve contains an interesting example of what, depending on one’s perspective, can either be seen as a (very early) model of rabbinic legislation or as a problematic example of proto-bal tosif, the prohibition of adding to the Torah. When repeating God’s command not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, Eve apparently adds to the prohibition (Gen. 3:3): “But from the fruit of the tree which is in the middle of the garden, God has said, ‘You may not eat from it and you may not touch it, lest you die.’” Every yeshiva student is familiar with Rashi’s interpretation:

“‘And you shall not touch it’ – she added to the command; therefore she came to detraction, as it is said: “Do not add to His words” (Proverbs 30:6).”

This, in turn, is based on the Gemara (Sanhedrin 29a):

“Hizkiyah said: From where is it derived that whoever adds, detracts? As it is stated: ‘God said: You shall not eat from it and you shall not touch it.’”

However, according to Avot de-Rabbi Natan (version 1, 1:5), it appears that the added prohibition was in fact a prototypical seyag, a protective fence of the sort we are instructed to erect in order to safeguard the Torah:

“And make a fence for your words, just as the Holy One, blessed be He, made a fence for His words; and Adam the First made a fence for his words … What was the fence that Adam the First made for his words? As it says: ‘And the Lord God commanded … for on the day that you eat of it you shall surely die’ (Genesis 2:17). Adam the First did not wish to say to Eve exactly as the Holy One, blessed be He, had said to him; rather, he said to her thus, and he made a fence for his words beyond what the Holy One, blessed be He, had said to him: ‘But from the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden God said: You shall not eat from it and you shall not touch it, lest you die,’ for he wished to guard himself and Eve from the tree even through mere touching.”

In the context of Karaite critiques of rabbinic authority, this question took on heightened urgency. Herman (39-40) refers to Rav Saadya Gaon’s commentary on Genesis 3:1, which elaborates the positive reading found in Avot de-Rabbi Natan:

“The fifth question: On what basis did Eve say, ‘and you shall not touch it,’ when God did not say this to Adam?

The answer: After God said to Adam not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, he instituted a safeguard for the matter and refrained even from touching it, so that if some mishap should occur in this regard, it would fall upon what he himself had added and not upon the essence of the prohibition. This is like an expert physician who wishes to distance a patient from eating meat and therefore also warns him against poultry, so that if he should treat the command lightly he will stumble with poultry and not with actual meat. On this basis our predecessors instructed us: ‘Make a fence for the Torah’ … and in all these cases, and others like them, we rely upon what the Torah itself prohibited as a matter of protection and fencing, as it is written: ‘He shall not multiply wives for himself, lest his heart turn astray’; and ‘silver and gold he shall not multiply for himself exceedingly, lest his heart grow haughty,’ and the like.”

Rav Saadya likens Adam’s added prohibition to the case of a patient who is forbidden to eat meat and whose physician therefore also prohibits poultry. As Herman observes, the analogy closely recalls the rabbinic prohibition of poultry with milk. Notably, in this instance Rav Saadya is prepared to treat the added restriction as Adam’s own enactment, a position that sits uneasily with his more general tendency to ground even rabbinic legislation in divine authority.

Elsewhere (80), Herman cites the eleventh century Andalusian commentator R. Yehuda Ibn Balaam who went a step further and “described the addition of a prohibition against touching the forbidden tree in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3:3) as the sound exertion of legal thinking (ijtihād).”[2] It seems that according to Ibn Balaam, in contrast to Rav Saadya, this is not merely a discretionary seyag but a logical extension of the law. In other words, according to Rav Saadya, the prohibition of touching the Tree of Knowledge would have been classified under the Rambam’s first shoresh in Sefer ha-Mitzvot, namely rabbinic enactments, whereas according to Ibn Balaam it would fall under the second shoresh, that of rabbinic derashot or derivations.[3]

2. Rabbinic Legislation and Adding to the Torah

Another obscure yet significant source cited by Herman bears on a question raised forcefully in Karaite polemics, namely, why rabbinic legislation does not itself constitute a violation of the biblical prohibition against adding to the Torah. Herman (27) points to Rav Saadya Gaon’s discussion in his work on the calendar, the Kitāb al-Tamyīz (Book of Distinction), where Saadya emphasizes that the prohibition of adding to revelation applies to “all that I have commanded you” (Deut. 4:2; 13:1), and not to “all that I have written for you.” On this view, rabbinic enactments cannot be considered impermissible additions, since they themselves form part of the revealed command structure. The relevant text survives only in an Arabic fragment published by Hartwig Hirschfeld in 1903.[4]

Herman (90) also cites R. Yehudah ha-Levi’s response to this challenge in the Kuzari (3:41). Ha-Levi explains that the biblical prohibition was directed at the masses, in order to prevent them from conjecturing, theorizing, and legislating on the basis of their own reasoning, as the Karaites did. Laws instituted by the Sanhedrin or by prophets, according to ha-Levi, are categorically excluded from the scope of this prohibition. Notably, Maimonides appears to adopt the opposite position. In his view, it is precisely authoritative figures such as prophets or the Sanhedrin who are capable of violating the prohibition of bal tosif.[5] But Maimonides’ formulation in Hilkhot Mamrim 2:9 (cited above, note 3) represents an even sharper rejection of Rav Saadya’s approach. According to the Rambam, bal tosif is violated precisely by collapsing the distinction between rabbinic legislation and divine command, thereby presenting the former as if it were itself part of the Torah. This could serve as a description of Rav Saadya’s enterprise. 

It is also noteworthy that figures operating within the Karaite orbit accepted the premise underlying the question, namely, that there exists a general prohibition against adding new laws to the Torah. By contrast, rabbinic authorities more distant from anti-Karaite polemics, such as Rashi, R. Yosef Albo, and the Maharal, rejected this premise altogether. On their account, bal tosif does not prohibit the introduction of new mitzvot, but rather the alteration of an existing mitzvah’s internal structure, such as adding a fifth passage to the tefillin. From this perspective, rabbinic legislation bears no relation to the prohibition of bal tosif at all.[6]

3. Hanukkah from Where in the Torah?

Rav Saadya Gaon’s discussion of Hanukkah provides a clear illustration of a broader geonic tendency: to anchor what might otherwise appear to be rabbinic innovations or postbiblical developments in biblical revelation itself. As Herman (29) notes:

“Saadia was anxious to uphold divine authority for Hanukkah, the formulations and structures of many prayers, court oaths, communal bans, the second day of festivals observed in the diaspora, and even one passage in a lament by Eliezer Qillir… Saadia adopted a variety of strategies to depict these practices as supported by divine revelation. Written revelation, he claimed, actually refers indirectly to legal institutions that might be considered postbiblical, such as the festival of Hanukkah, the observance of two days to mark some new lunar months, or the rules of the Jewish calendar.”

One of the sources Herman adduces in this context is a passage from the the recently recovered complete Sefer ha-Mitzvot of Rav Saadya, in which Rav Saadya seeks to ground the festival of Hanukkah in biblical prophecy:

“The tradition has established that there will be a day on which He will deliver us from the descendant of Amalek … and that when the Lord grants victory to the sons of Levi in their war against those who rise against them, that time shall be honored, as it is said: “Bless, O Lord, his valor, and accept the work of his hands; crush the loins of those who rise against him, and of those who hate him, that they rise no more” (Deut. 33:11). And we do not find that they fought anyone other than the Greeks.”[7]

This passage is particularly illuminating when read alongside Maimonides’ remarks in the first shoresh of his own Sefer ha-Mitzvot, where he sharply criticizes those who would count Hanukkah among the 613 commandments:

“I do not suppose that anyone would imagine, or that it would even occur to anyone’s mind, that it was said to Moses at Sinai that he should command us that, if at the end of our kingdom such-and-such should occur with the Greeks, we would then be obligated to light the Hanukkah lamp.”[8]

The position that Maimonides declares inconceivable is, in fact, precisely the one advanced by Rav Saadya. Because Maimonides elsewhere explicitly objects to the Behag’s enumeration, and because the Behag does count ner Hanukkah as a mitzvah, it has generally been assumed that Maimonides’ polemic here is directed against the Behag. The discovery of this passage, however, together with another like it in Rav Saadya’s writings, reveals that Maimonides’ criticism is not aimed at a merely theoretical justification for counting Hanukkah, but at Rav Saadya’s concrete attempt to ground the obligation in biblical revelation.[9] Herman (104) himself emphasizes this point, noting that:

“This was something of a pattern for Maimonides, who was reluctant to name Saadia even when strongly disagreeing with him. But it is hard, in fact, not to read Maimonides’s presentations of the Oral Torah as a pointed rebuttal of the views of the Egyptian-born gaon.”[10]

The same geonic impulse to locate Hanukkah within the orbit of biblical revelation appears elsewhere as well. In his discussion of the Torah center of Kairouan, Herman (67) observes that R. Nissim Gaon likewise adopted Rav Saadya’s position regarding the divine authority of Hanukkah, repeating a midrash according to which the festival had already been foretold to the biblical Aaron. This refers to the well-known passage cited by Nahmanides in his commentary on Behaʿalotekha (Num. 8:2):

“Why is the section of the Menorah juxtaposed with the dedication of the princes? When Aaron saw the dedication of the princes, his spirit sank, for neither he nor his tribe had participated in the dedication. The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: ‘By your life, yours is greater than theirs, for you kindle and prepare the lamps morning and evening’ – this is the language of Rashi, citing an aggadic midrash… The intent of this aggadah is to expound a hint from the passage concerning the dedication of the lamps that would take place in the Second Temple through Aaron and his sons – that is, the Hasmonean High Priest and his sons. I found it stated in this very language in the Megillat Setarim of Rabbeinu Nissim, who cites this aggadah and says: ‘I saw in a midrash: once the twelve tribes had brought offerings and the tribe of Levi had not brought [any]… the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Moses: ‘Speak to Aaron and say to him’ – there will be another dedication [hanukkah] involving the lighting of lamps in which I will perform miracles and deliverance for Israel, through your descendants. [This] dedication will be named for them, namely the Hanukkah of the sons of the Hasmoneans. Therefore this section was juxtaposed to the section of the dedication of the altar’.”

This is a celebrated passage in Nahmanides’ commentary, but when read against the background of geonic polemics and the geonic impulse to locate later rabbinic enactments within biblical revelation, it takes on a new significance. Herman draws attention in this connection to the landmark work of Yosef Ofer and Jonathan Jacobs on Nahmanides, which reconstructs the layered development of Nahmanides’ Torah commentary on the basis of authorial update lists and a comprehensive comparison of manuscript traditions. Ofer and Jacobs demonstrate that the passage attributing Hanukkah to Aaron through R. Nissim Gaon’s Megillat Setarim belongs to Nahmanides’ later additions, composed after his arrival in Eretz Yisrael, and that in earlier recensions of his commentary Nahmanides struggled to resolve the difficulties posed by this midrash.[11]

4. A Sage is Superior to a Prophet

Interpretations of the talmudic dictum hakham adif mi-navi, “a sage is superior to a prophet” (Bava Batra 12a), offer a revealing lens through which to assess medieval attitudes toward the relative status of divine revelation and human juridical creativity. In a substantial study published two decades ago, Alon Goshen-Gottstein traces the reception history of this dictum and concludes that it was largely ignored prior to the emergence of the Book of the Zohar.[12] Herman (81-82), however, draws attention to a significant pre-Zohar interpretation that appears to have gone largely unnoticed in this discussion, preserved in the commentary of R. Isaac Ibn Ghiyath, commonly known by his acronym רי״ץ גיאת, to Kohelet:

“Upon proper reflection, I have found that the sages of the Torah possess a superiority over the prophets. For the former draw forth [insights] from their intellectual inquiry and the illuminations of their intellect: they innovate new teachings from foundational principles and derive consequences from root concepts. The latter, by contrast, are guided only by prophecy and directed by prophetic vision alone. You already know what occurred with respect to what the prophet Nathan said to David, ‘Do all that is in your heart, for the Lord is with you’ (II Sam. 7:3) – and he was mistaken; whereas Solomon’s ruling in the case of the two women was successful. It is to this distinction that the saying refers: ‘A sage is superior to a prophet.’”[13]

As Herman observes, Ibn Ghiyath’s interpretation is “closer to that of the Qaraite Qirqisani – who had cited it to show that the ancient rabbis themselves admitted to ‘extracting’ new law – than to geonic-era apologetics.” In other words, this interpretation stands in contrast to the geonic claim that Torah she-beʿal peh is all revealed law, instead seeing the active process of building upon revelation by means of human wisdom as a higher achievement than the passive process of receiving prophetic instruction. This helps explain why this dictum received little attention in certain eras. In the context of anti-Karaite polemics, openly conceding the primacy of human legal creativity over prophecy was potentially destabilizing. Yet Herman does not emphasize the significance of Ibn Ghiyath’s comment in the history of the interpretation of this saying, noteworthy in its own right.[14]

5. Increasing Andalusian Independence

A recurring theme throughout Herman’s work is the growing independence of non-Iraqi scholars, such as R. Hananel, R. Shmuel ha-Nagid, the Rif, and R. Joseph Ibn Migash, from the authority of the Babylonian geonim. This is the intellectual world into which Maimonides was born. Herman (104-105) highlights one particularly telling instance in which Maimonides explicitly defends his Andalusian tradition against claims of Babylonian hegemony:

“[I]n a polemic against against Samuel ben ‘Eli…who claimed the title gaon, Maimonides provided a list of Andalusi “geonim” to support his view: Ibn Ghiyath, al-Baliya, al-Fasi, and Maimonides’s own father’s teacher, Ibn Migash. Maimonides asked: ‘Should one not heed the words of our geonim because they are not Babylonian [i.e., Iraqi]? Is it possible that locale is determinative [she-maqom gorem]?’ While these examples show a sense of continuity with the Andalusi tradition, Maimonidean innovations nevertheless abounded…”

Herman offers a nuanced account of the gradual emergence of Andalusian scholarly independence from geonic authority, culminating in Maimonides’ own complex stance toward the inherited geonic tradition.[15]

These few examples from this densely referenced work should suffice to illustrate the wealth of material contained within. Dr. Marc Herman’s After Revelation: The Rabbinic Past in the Medieval Islamic World is distinguished by its meticulous research and careful presentation of sources, a quality that is especially welcome in the current scholarly landscape. In addition, by focusing on a specific historical era which has received relatively little scrutiny, Herman has brought to light a rich array of material which deserves the attention of anyone interested in the development of the concept of Torah sheb’eal peh.

[1] Full disclosure: the author of the book under review, Dr. Marc Herman, is a longtime friend to whom I often turn with questions regarding Maimonides’ Sefer ha-Mitzvot. References to his pages are given parenthetically in the text. Readers of The Seforim Blog may already be familiar with his work through his review in Marc Herman,  “Review of ‘Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Hāwī)’, by Rabbi David ben Saʿadya al-Ger,” The Seforim Blog (4 September 2024), available here. My thanks to Seforim Blog editor Menachem Butler for his editorial review and comments.
[2] Herman cites Ibn Balaam’s comment from Maaravi Perez, “Another fragment from Kitāb al-Tarjīḥ by R. Yehuda Ibn Balaam: Genesis 2:11-4:9; 8:10-20,” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research, vol. 57 (1990-1991): 8 (Hebrew), available here; the fragment is also available via the remarkable alhatorah.org.
[3] For a discussion of the tension between seyag and bal tosif as it arises from the narrative of Adam and Eve, see R. Bezalel Naor, “Mitzvat Hashem Barah,” printed at the conclusion of his edition of the Rashba’s Maʾamar ʿal Yishmael, ed. Bezalel Naor (Spring Valley, NY: Orot, 2008), 87-91 (Hebrew). His discussion displays his characteristic breadth of learning, though he does not cite the sources later adduced by Herman; conversely, Herman does not refer to Naor’s treatment. Notably, the Hida (Ahavat David, derush 13) explicitly confronts the apparent contradiction between the position of the Gemara with that of Avot de-Rabbi Natan and proposes a reconciliation:

“The matter is straightforward: Adam the First certainly acted properly in making a fence. However, he should have said, “This is the command of the Lord, and I am making a fence with respect to touching,’ and in that case Eve would not have erred. It was from this aspect that the mishap emerged, and this is what is meant by the conclusion, ‘A person should not add to the words he hears’; that is, one should not attribute the addition to the original speaker.”

See also R. David Zvi Hoffmann’s commentary to Genesis 3:1, and R. Yaakov Kamenetsky, Emet le-Yaʿakov, Genesis 3:3, who develop the same distinction—between legitimate protective legislation and its improper attribution to divine command. R. Yaakov Kamenetsky articulates this concept pointedly in his commentary to Avot 2:5:

“The essential point is that one know that he is keeping this only as a fence, and not as an essential matter in its own right … for if this is not known, one may come to great stumbling blocks. It appears that Adam the First himself stumbled precisely in this matter in the sin of the Tree of Knowledge, and from this grew and developed the entire notion of sin and iniquity in the world, with the resulting consequence – death.”

Against this backdrop, R. Bezalel Naor draws attention to a difficult comment of the Moshav Zekenim. The Moshav Zekenim cites the following question of the tosafist R. Isaac [presumably Riʾ of Dampierre]:

“You shall not eat and you shall not touch”—from here [we learn that] whoever adds, detracts, for the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded only with respect to eating. And R. Isaac finds this difficult: perhaps she acted by way of distancing, as we find with respect to the nazirite… and this requires further investigation.”

Why, R. Naor asks, did the Moshav Zekenim not explain that the difficulty with this seyag lay specifically in its attribution to God Himself, as is made explicit in the aforementioned sources? One possible answer emerges from the Maharil’s account of asmakhta. See Maharil, Likkutim, no. 70 (quoted by R. Asher Weiss, Minhat Asher, Devarim, p. 37):

“Wherever it is stated [that something is] rabbinic and the verse is merely an asmakhta, this is its meaning: it is certainly a rabbinic enactment, and they went and examined and found for themselves a scriptural support, and they anchored their words to it in order to strengthen them—so that people would think it is of Torah origin and be stringent with it, and not come to treat the words of the Sages lightly and leniently. (In the Mekhon Yerushalayim edition there is another version: ‘in order to mislead them.’)”

According to the Maharil, the purpose of an asmakhta is precisely to cause people to attribute divine authority to a rabbinic enactment. This would also appear to be the most straightforward explanation of the Raʾavad’s gloss to Hilkhot Mamrim 2:9. Maimonides explains that the difference between prescribed rabbinic enactments and proscribed bal tosif lies in their attribution: 

“Since a court has authority to decree and prohibit something permitted, and its prohibition may stand for generations … what, then, is the meaning of the Torah’s warning ‘You shall not add to it nor detract from it’? That one should not add to the words of the Torah nor detract from them, and establish the matter permanently as Torah law.”

On this, Raʾavad comments: 

“All of this is mere wind, for anything they decreed and prohibited as a fence and safeguard for the Torah does not constitute adding, even if they established it for generations, treated it as Torah law, and anchored it to Scripture, as we find in many places where something is rabbinic and the verse is merely an asmakhta.”

Raʾavad apparently sees the existence of asmakhta as a refutation of Maimonides’ position. Cf. the Vilna Gaon’s comment in Aderet Eliyahu, Genesis 3:3, which offers another defense of Eve’s “fence.”
[4] Hartwig Hirschfeld, “The Arabic Portion of the Cairo Genizah at Cambridge (Third Article): Saadyah Fragments,” Jewish Quarterly Review, vol. 16, no. 1 [old series] (October 1903): 103, available here.
[5] See my article in Eliyahu Krakowski, “Is a Prophet Authorized to Institute a Rabbinic Commandment? A Halakhic Clarification and Its Implications for Maimonidean Thought,” Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought, vol. 12 (Fall 2011): 26-28 (Hebrew), available here, for a detailed analysis of Rambam’s position that the prohibition of bal tosif applies precisely to prophetic or judicial claims of divine authority. R. Asher Weiss formulates this point as a matter of halakhah le-maʿaseh in response to a question posed by his teacher, the Divrei Yatziv:

“My teacher and master, the holy rabbi, our master [Rabbi Yekusiel Yehudah Halberstam], wrote in Responsa Divrei Yatziv (Orah Hayyim §214) to comment on the formula le-shem yihud customarily recited by Hasidim prior to the counting of the ʿomer, in which it is said: “to fulfill the positive commandment of the counting of the ʿomer, as written in the Torah, etc.” This formulation implies that the obligation in question is a de-oraita commandment, and thus constitutes an addition to the commandments and a violation of bal tosif according to the view of Maimonides. For this reason, he adopted the practice of saying instead: “to fulfill the commandment of the counting of the ʿomer, and it is written in the Torah, etc.,” so that it should not be understood as a de-oraita commandment, but rather in a formulation that is also compatible with a rabbinic commandment… In my view, however, even though this observation has merit, as a matter of strict law there is no objection here, for several reasons. First, there is no prohibition involved except in the context of formal legal instruction issued by a court or by a sage rendering authoritative rulings to others; this has no application to a devotional prayer recited informally by each individual person…”

This represents the distinctively Maimonidean understanding of bal tosif, in marked contrast to the approach articulated by R. Yehuda ha-Levi.
[6] See Rashi to Deut. 4:2 and 13:1; Sefer ha-Ikkarim 3:14; Maharal, Beʾer ha-Golah, beʾer 1; cf. Nahmanides to Deut. 4:2. Notably, both sides in the Karaite-rabbinic controversy presupposed that bal tosif prohibits the introduction of new laws as such, even though this assumption was rejected by a number of rabbinic authorities operating at some remove from the immediate polemical context. A structurally analogous phenomenon, in which opposing camps converge upon a shared but historically secondary interpretation of a source, can be observed in the medieval debates over hokhmat yevanit. See Eliyahu Krakowski, “How Much Greek in ‘Greek Wisdom’? On the Meaning of Hokhmat Yevanit,” The Seforim Blog (27 December 2011), available here, where I argue that the identification of hokhmat yevanit with Greek philosophy represents a thirteenth-century polemical development rather than the original talmudic meaning, even though both sides in the controversy itself accepted this understanding.
[7] Rav Saadya Gaon, Sefer ha-Mitzvot (Kitāb al-Sharāʾiʿ), ed. and trans. Nissim Sabato (Jerusalem: The Ben-Zvi Institute, 2019), 199 (Hebrew). My thanks to Rabbi Dr. Eliezer Brodt for obtaining a copy of this important work for me. The text is also available on alhatorah.org, and should not be confused with R. Yeruham Fishel Perla’s monumental commentary on Rav Saadya’s poetic Azharot.
[8] See, now, the newly-published edition of Maimonides, Sefer ha-Mitzvot, ed. R. Yitzhak Sheilat (Jerusalem, 2025), 39-40 (Hebrew). It is surprising that R. Sheilat, who serves as rosh yeshiva of Yeshivat Birkat Moshe alongside R. Sabato, does not reference in this context Rav Saadya’s Sefer ha-Mitzvot.
[9] For an otherwise insightful discussion of this passage, see Moshe Halbertal, Maimonides: Life and Thought (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014), 111-116, who perceptively analyzes Maimonides’ objection to the enumeration of rabbinic enactments but does not identify Rav Saadya Gaon as the concrete target of the critique.
[10] In his notes to this passage in Rav Saadya Gaon’s Sefer ha-Mitzvot, R. Haim Sabato expresses caution as to whether Maimonides had Rav Saadya specifically in mind. However, Herman’s view is compelling. For a fuller treatment of whether Maimonides’ critique in Sefer ha-Mitzvot is aimed specifically at Rav Saadya Gaon, see R. Haim Sabato, “Did Maimonides Know Rav Saadya Gaon’s Complete Sefer ha-Mitzvot?” in Zvi Heber and Carmiel Cohen, eds., MiBirkat Moshe: Maimonidean Studies in Honor of Rabbi Nahum Eliezer Rabinovitch, vol. 2 (Maʿale-Adumim: Maʿaliyot, 2012), 757-763 (Hebrew), available here, and Marc D. Herman, “Systematizing God’s Law: Rabbanite Jurisprudence in the Islamic World from the Tenth to the Thirteenth Centuries,” (PhD Dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 2016), 167-168, 301, available here.
[11] See Nahmanides’ Torah Commentary Addenda Written in the Land of Israel, eds. Yosef Ofer and Jonathan Jacobs (Jerusalem: Herzog Academic College and the World Union of Jewish Studies, 2013), 430-432 (Hebrew).
[12] See Alon Goshen-Gottstein, “The Sage is Superior to the Prophet: The Conception of Torah through the Prism of this Proverb through the Ages,” in Howard Kreisel, ed., Study and Knowledge in Jewish Thought (Beer Sheva: Ben Gurion University of the Negev, 2006), 37-78 (Hebrew), available here, who identifies two citations of this dictum in sources that predate the Sefer ha-Zohar, one in Hovot ha-Levavot and one in a work attributed to R. Avraham b. ha-Rambam, possibly by R. Nissim Gaon. The interpretations of R. Isaac Ibn Ghiyath and R. Joseph Ibn Migash discussed here, however, suggest that the paucity of earlier citations reflects not simple neglect but a reluctance to highlight texts that openly privilege human juridical creativity over prophetic transmission.
[13] This commentary is printed in R. Yosef Qafih, Hamesh Megillot, ed. Shimon Najar (Israel, 1970), 162-163 (Hebrew), where it is attributed to Rav Saadya Gaon; it is now also available online at alhatorah.org in R. Qafih’s translation. Another text overlooked by Goshen-Gottstein and cited by Herman (87) is the commentary of R. Joseph Ibn Migash (Riʾ Migash) preserved in Shitah Mekubetzet to Bava Batra 12a:

“‘Amemar said: A sage is superior to a prophet. Rav Ashi said: You may know this from the fact that a great scholar states a matter and it is then said that the law accords with [a tradition] given to Moses at Sinai’— and even though this scholar never heard this matter at all. Thus, [we see that] ‘the sage is superior to the prophet’: for the prophet says only what he has heard and what is placed in his mouth to say, whereas the sage can articulate what was said to Moses at Sinai even though he never heard it.”

[14] Elsewhere, however, Herman does highlight the significance of Ibn Ghiyath’s comment more explicitly. See Marc Herman, “Situating Maimonides’s Approach to the Oral Torah in Its Andalusian Context,” Jewish History, vol. 31, no. 1 (December 2017): 31-46, available here.
[15] This analysis bears indirectly on a debate I conducted in the pages of Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought with R. Shmuel Phillips concerning whether Maimonides adhered to a rigid, geonically derived methodology of talmudic interpretation that would have sharply limited the scope for post-talmudic harmonization or innovation. My contention in that exchange was that Maimonides engages in implicit synthesis and interpretive reconciliation of talmudic sources, even when such activity is not explicitly signaled in his formulations. The historical picture reconstructed by Herman strengthens the view of Maimonides as an independent thinker who was not constrained by geonic precedent, nor, in fact, by the precedent of his immediate Andalusian predecessors, making it difficult to sustain an account of Maimonides as merely transmitting talmudic conclusions through the mechanical application of geonic rules. See my article in Eliyahu Krakowski, “Talmud Oversimplified? A Partial Review of Talmud Reclaimed: An Ancient Text in the Modern Era by Shmuel Phillips,” Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought, vol. 35 (Summer 2024): 129-145, available here, as well as the continued exchange in Shmuel Phillips, “Talmud Reclaimed and a Battle Over Methodologies of the Rishonim,” Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought, vol. 36 (Winter 2025): 193-216, available here, and Eliyahu Krakowski, “Rejoinder: Reclaiming Talmudic Complexity,” Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought, vol. 36 (Winter 2025): 217-229, available here.