Finders Keepers? The Itinerant
History of Strashun Library of Vilna
by Dan Rabinowitz

            Since the 1990s, the issue of reparation of items looted by the Nazis has become a high-profile issue, with numerous successful attempts at reuniting owners with their stolen possessions. The recent movie, Monuments Men, fictionalized the
Allies’ post-war efforts that led to the locating some of these looted treasures. While some of the best-known examples of these recovered treasures are related to art, gold, or Swiss bank accounts, Hebrew books were also part of the Nazi’s appropriation scheme and were included in the items recovered after World War II. Some of the books recovered belonged to a unique institution, the first Jewish public library, and tracing the journey of these books, up to present day, parallels that of its patrons, tortured, uncertain, and yet despite all odds, surviving.

Matisyahu Strashun[1] was born in 1817 in Vilna.  His family was among the Vilna elite.  His father, Samuel Strashun (also known as Rashash), whose notes/annotations – he never published a stand-alone work – to numerous classic rabbinic works, including Midrash Raba, Mishna, and Maimonides’ Mishna Torah, and Talmud Bavli.[2]  In terms of breadth, the latter is most
impressive, as his notes cover nearly every single page[3] of the Talmud Bavli.[4]

Matisyahu too was a Talmudist, his comments to Baba Batra and Eruvin are incorporated into the Vilna edition of Talmud Bavli, and was proficient in the entire corpus of rabbinic literature.[5] Matisyahu espoused views that were consistent with the haskalah movement.[6] For example, Matisyahu supported Max Lilienthal’s controversial attempt to reform “the Jewish educational system within the Pale Settlement,”[7] and Matisyahu help found and financially supported two schools in Vilna aligned with the haskalah.[8] Matisyahu corresponded with leaders of the haskalah movement, Isaac Ber Levinsohn, among others, and Strashun’s articles appeared in both rabbinic as well as haskalah newspapers and journals.[9] And, his home was a salon of sorts for traditionalists and the maskilim of Vilna.[10]

Strashun was independently wealthy and derived his substantial income from commercial and banking activities rather than rabbinic activities.  Yet he was considered a leader of the Vilna community.  He served on a number of communal institutions including the Vilna Tzedakah Gedolah.  And, at his death, he donated over 50,000 rubles to charity (approximately $1 million today). Leading Eastern European rabbis, R. Yitzhak Elchonon Spector and R. Jacob Joseph (later Chief Rabbi of
New York) among them, eulogized Strashun.[11] Posthumously, a street in Vilna was named after him.[12]

Throughout his life, he was an avid book collector, and, at the time of his death, amassed a collection of over 5,700 books and manuscripts.[13] His collection included incunabula, rare and controversial works (e.g. Me’or Eynaim), and manuscripts – from his father in addition to other authors. As reflected in his outlook during his lifetime, Strashun’s collection included rabbinic and haskalah works and books in non-Hebrew languages.[14]

During Strashun’s lifetime, numerous printing houses and bookstores populated Vilna, providing access to most contemporary books, including in languages other than Hebrew.[15]  But, unfortunately, we do not have much information regarding how and when Strashun amassed his collection that extended well beyond those contemporary books, beyond that when he traveled he took the opportunity to seek out and purchase books. For example, when he took therapeutic trips to the spa he also took that opportunity to seek out and purchasing books.  In addition to Strashun’s spa trips, in 1857 he went on a Rabbinic tour of Eastern Europe and visited R. Shlomo Yehuda Rappaport (Shi”r) in Prague and R. Tzvi Hirsch Chajes.[16] But, R. Rapahel Nathan Rabinowicz, a book dealer and noted book collector, commented after visiting Strashun that while Strashun’s collection was larger than Rabinowicz’s, his collection was richer in rare and older books.[17]

At his death in 1885, Strashun left no direct heirs.  He did, however, provide for the disposition of his library in his will.  In the past, those with large libraries had sold or left it to relatives,[18] Strashun elected a novel approach, rather than an individual or individuals he bequeathed his library to the Vilna Jewish community writ large, with instructions to establish a stand-alone public library.[19] His vision for the library was modeled on “the non-Jewish libraries that he saw [20] in the Diaspora.”[21] To that end, Strashun provided not only the books but also the funds to support the creation and sustainment of the library.[22]  Immediately the impact of this decision was apparent. At his funeral, among other enumerated good deeds and scholarship mentioned was, “the large library he left after death for the benefit of the community,” and which will “provide a
lasting legacy beyond that of any actual blood descendants.”[23]

            The creation of a public library out of Strashun’s personal collection was not a swift one, for seven years following Strashun’s death “the books remained under
lock and key” and were available only to those with special access.[24]  It remained in this state even though there were trustees and enough money to cover its operations.[25] Although the
library did not open to the public, the trustees were not idle during this time; and in 1889, published a complete catalog of Strashun’s collection.  His collection was comprised of 5,753 items, 63 of which contained marginalia in his hand.[26]

In 1892, the Library was finally opened to the public. At the time, however, it remained in Strashun’s home.[27]  For years
after the library was opened to the public, in legal documents, the listed owner was not the Vilna community but one of the Library’s trustees. Although Strashun’s intent was clear – that the Library belonged to the community and not a trustee or any other individual – the Library’s legal status clouded that directive. In the late 1890s, there was a successful campaign to correct that issue, and the community becomes the sole owner of the Library, fulfilling Strashun’s wishes regarding ownership.[28]

In 1902, the Library finally moved into a building of its own in the courtyard of the Great Synagogue of Vilna.[29]  From this
point forward, the Strashun Library would be one of Vilna’s most important institutions.

            The Strashun Library was a Jewish public institution and, to fulfill the needs of the public, additional steps were required beyond building and maintaining
infrastructure and clarifying ownership.
Specifically, although Strashun’s collection was substantial both in
terms of size and breadth, it was still the product of one man’s idea of a library.  For this reason, Hillel Noach Steinschneider, one of Vilna’s leading scholars and historians, pleaded with the public to donate books and ensure the completeness of the library and fulfill its mission of serving the entire community.  He acknowledged that Strashun amassed a very impressive private collection, but that for a public library his collection alone was insufficient because “it is lacking in books for people” whose interests did not align with Strashun’s.
That is, a public library is not only a place open for all but also one that provides value for all.  Consequently, the library’s composition must reflect the entirety of its audience and not a single collector. Apparently, this plea was successful,[30] many Vilna scholars donated their collections to the Library in addition to the general public, and, by the 1930s, the Library had grown to over 35,000 volumes.[31] Additionally, Vilna’s Tzedakah Gedolah organization also provided funds for acquisitions.  Books acquired through those funds contain a special stamp or receipt.

The Library was open seven days a week and became the central meeting location for the residents of Vilna.[32]  The Library’s visitors were representative of Strashun’s commitment to both traditional and modern ideas and ideals.  Patrons included “rabbis and talmudic scholars who were studying responsa and Halakhic
works” and who sat side-by-side with the “younger generation who were reading haskalah works.”[33] When dignitaries came to Vilna, the Strashun library
was a waypoint.[34]

 The intent was to have Herzl be the first visitor to the Library, however, the Russian government prohibited him appearing at the Library.[35]  Other famous Jewish personalities did visit and signed the guest book, known as the Golden Book, including Sholem Yankev Abramovitsh (Mendele Mokher Seforim), and Hayim Nachum Bialik, in addition to more traditionalists, R. David Friedman of Karlin, R. Shlomo Ha-kohen, and the Chafetz Chayim.[36] The Library was not only known for its visiting
Jewish celebrities, but also for its well-regarded holdings.  According to A.J. Heschel, it was the largest public Hebraic library in Eastern Europe reported holding over 40,000 volumes.[37]  On the one hand, the Strashun library was recognized as one of the greatest cultural institutions in Eastern Europe, on the other, like so many public institutions, the Library struggled to raise sufficient funds throughout the early part of the 20th century, consistently hampering its ability to maintain and build its
collections in addition to limiting its public access.[38]  But, it would not be funding that led to its demise but the Nazis and their campaign to appropriate Jewish cultural treasures.

            During World War II, Vilna was occupied and controlled first by the Soviets, then the Lithuanian government, the Soviets again, and finally by the Germans.[39]  While under Lithuanian and Soviet rule, the Library had its share of challenges, but none
of those compared to the Nazi’s systematic campaign to identify, collect, and appropriate important Jewish treasures –specifically books – and, consequently, important libraries. The intent was that these pillaged libraries would supplement the already substantial Judaic holdings of Frankfort City Library.[40]  Immediately after the Nazis occupied Vilna, the Strashun Library as Vilna’s “oldest and perhaps most distinguished” library was identified as a target for this campaign.[41]

            Less than a month after occupying Vilna, the Nazis “enlisted” the Library’s librarian, Chakil Lunski, who had served in that capacity for over forty years, in addition to others, to select, identify and catalog important books including “the incunabula and manuscripts in the Strashun Library” to be sent back to Germany.[42]  Needless to say, Lunski was “distraught” that “he [was] supposed to help remove the treasures from ‘his’ Strashun Library that he protected for 45 years!”[43] Consequently, a number of books from the Strashun Library ended up in Frankfort, Germany.[44]

            The Library’s building did not survive the war, but some of its books did.[45]  After WWII, the Allies recovered thousands of items the German’s looted and collected them at the Offenbach Depot outside of Frankfort.[46]  Much of what was recovered was likely heirless and the Allies faced with the dilemma of restitution. Initially, the Americans took the position that heirless property should return to the country from which it was looted.[47]  This position raised the specter of rare and important Judaica and Hebraica returning to Poland or even Germany.  This outcome was unacceptable to many Jews.[48]  Some elected to influence the fate of looted heirless books through traditional democratic means, others took matters into their own hands.[49]

The Strashun Library was by no means the only library identified at the Offenbach depot.  There were numerous other
libraries, both public and private that ended up at Offenbach, without any clear method of repatriation. This lack of clarity leads to inconsistent results at best.  Indeed, first-hand accounts of post-war Germany confirm the ad-hoc, doubtful legal grounds and sometimes completely lawless reparation regime in the post-war chaos.  In many instances, individuals made many of the decisions regarding disposition with little information and virtually to no oversight.

For example, Solomon B. Freehof, who himself amassed one of the greatest responsa collections in the 20th century, spent time in post-war Germany and encountered heirless property and describes attempts of repatriation. He indicates that
half of the heirless Jewish books recovered by the Allies went to the Jewish National and University Library (“JNUL”) at the Hebrew University (now the National Library of Israel),[50] which was “quite right” because some unnamed person or entity had determined “that clearly the [JNUL] should take the place of the vanished Jewish communities of Europe.”[51]

            Others agreed with Freehof that the natural repository for heirless books of European origin was the JNUL in Jerusalem.  Most notably, Judah Magnes, and the trustees of the JNUL wanted to recover and claim for the JNUL as much heirless Judaica as possible.  The JNUL dispatched Gershom Scholem, the eminent Kabbalah scholar, and bibliophile, to Europe to locate and return heirless property.  He discovered a significant number of important books and manuscripts in the Offenbach Depot
and did everything in his power, including employing very underhanded means, to repatriate items to Hebrew University.[52]

Initially, Scholem had a very difficult time securing authorization to even enter Germany and the Offenbach Depot.[53]  When he was eventually granted permission to view the contents of the Depot, it was with the explicit condition that he
could not remove any items.  But, for Scholem, some items proved too enticing.  Scholem identified a number of rare and important books and manuscripts.  He was concerned that if the disposition of these items were left to the Allied authorities the items would not end up in Jerusalem, but, instead, at the Jewish Theological Seminary, or some other institution, in the United States.  This was unacceptable to Scholem. To facilitate the transfer of these items to the JNUL, Scholem colluded with a Jewish American serviceman to smuggle the works out of Offenbach. Scholem placed the collection into five boxes but did not label
their contents and provided a fake name on the invoice.  The American serviceman personally ensured that the boxes were shipped to Paris, after which they were sent to the JNUL.  Eventually, the Allies found out about the theft, and demanded the return of the five boxes, even lodging a formal diplomatic complaint.  In the end, after much back and forth, the boxes remained at the JNUL.[54]

As germane here, eventually, the boxes’ content were cataloged and it was determined that a third of the works were not heirless – their ownership was clear and restitution was possible.[55]  Nevertheless, the content of the five boxes were incorporated into the JNUL.

Another example of unilateral ostensive benevolent restitution occurred with the “library of the prestigious Klaus synagogue of Mannheim, [that] ended up with U.S. Army Chaplin, Rabbi Henry Tavel.” Who, “on his own authority . . . shipped it to his alma mater, the Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati.”[56]

The determination regarding the disposition of the Strashun library after the Holocaust was no different from other heirless property, ad hoc and questionable.  Lucy Dawidowicz, worked for YIVO before WWII and spent time in Vilna.
After WWII, on behalf of the Jewish Distribution Committee after World War II, she went to the Offenbach Depot to assist with identification of heirless books.  Prior to coming to Offenbach, she had “promised [herself] that [she] would do [her] best to
safeguard the rights of possible owners and heirs.”[57]  And, when she came upon some of the remains of the YIVO collection,[58] she “was in a state of exaltation” and in a letter home wrote that she “had ‘a feeling akin to holiness, that [she] was touching something sacred.’”[59]

Dawidowicz also came upon books that she “could identify came from the Strashun Library.”  Whereupon she recalled “a
strange story” that the head of YIVO, Max Weinreich,[60] had told her “back in 1940.” Weinreich told her that during the brief period of time when the Soviets had returned Vilna to Lithuanian control, YIVO attempted to move its library out of Vilna.[61]  And, that “the trustees of the Strashun Library, also fearing for the sake of their library, asked the Vilna YIVO to ship [the Strashun Library] too.” Unfortunately, the shipment never occurred and both libraries remained in Vilna and ultimately plundered by the Nazis.

While the shipment never occurred, in Dawidowicz’s telling the attempted shipment was an irrevocable act with significant implications regarding the Library’s ownership.  She inferred that the Strashun trustees request to join the YIVO shipment also implicitly ceded ownership of the Strashun Library to YIVO. Thus, there she had no doubt regarding the proper disposition of the Strashun Library. Based entirely upon the “strange story” she heard, and even though according to her retelling the Strashun trustees had only intended YIVO to act as a shipper,[62] Dawidowicz told the Director of the Offenbach Depot that the heirless “remains of the Strashun Library ought to be considered as YIVO property.” She appealed to the Allied authorities and her position carried the day and the remnants of Strashun Library went to YIVO in New York.[63]

In a recent exhibit devoted to YIVO’s Strashun collection, the issue of the Strashun Library’s provenance is not discussed in any detail.  Instead, the book accompanying the exhibit simply states that all the remnants of the Strashun Library “were
rescued from the ruins of Europe and brought back to YIVO in New York in 1947.”[64] YIVO’s library catalog again implies that all the recovered books went to YIVO and links the disposition of the Strashun Library with that of YIVO’s, the provenance note explains that “[t]he Strashun Collection, along with the YIVO Vilna collections, were liberated by the American Army, and
re-repatriated to YIVO in New York in April 1947.”[65]

            In reality, not all the remaining Strashun books went to YIVO, nor did everyone agree with the determination that YIVO was the rightful heir of the Strashun Library.

To be continued in Pt. II…

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

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

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

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

An
analysis of the historical development of Qaraite rules of kosher birds strongly
supports my suggestion[5].
Qaraite halacha did not rely on the Rabbanite Oral Law. Therefore, the kosher
signs of the Mishna Hullin 59a –

 וסימני העוף לא נאמרו אבל אמרו
חכמים כל עוף הדורס טמא כל שיש לו אצבע יתירה וזפק וקורקבנו נקלף טהור ר’ אלעזר
בר’ צדוק אומר כל עוף החולק את רגליו טמא

and the statement of the Talmud Hullin
63b, עוף
טהור נאכל במסורת, were of little
significance to Qaraites. That chicken, duck, quail and other fowl were eaten in
Rabbanite tradition[vi] was
unreliable evidence for these strict Scriptualists. Because the identity of most birds mentioned in the Torah
was ambiguous, Qaraites had no reliable means of recognizing birds as kosher other
than the pigeon and turtledove; they were confident that the correct
translation of תור and יונה had been preserved. The devout Qaraite, therefore, could not
partake of chicken, quail, or duck. Over time, some Qaraites communities became
lenient and found legal rationale to permit these commonly eaten birds. Slowly
over the 12th and 13th
centuries a lenient policy was adopted by the broad Qaraite community. Because
from the inception of Qaraism its scholars read the passuk, “לא
תבשל גדי בחלב אמו” literally[7],
they had no hesitations against eating and cooking the newly accepted fowl and
dairy together. 

            The
Rabbanite and Qaraite communities were very much interconnected politically and
socially[8];
the divide between the parties was often blurred[9].
Rabbanite leaders sought to protect the integrity of their tradition from sectarian
influence. I demonstrated previously how R. Chananel (990 -1053) and his
disciple, R. Yitchak Al-fasi[10]
(1013
– 1103), created a six hour waiting requirement
between meat and dairy in the early eleventh century – thereby limiting the
social participation of Rabbanites with Qaraites. During the years of the legislating
activity of these sages it was not common practice amongst Qaraites to eat
chicken, duck, and quail, birds on the daily North African Rabbanite menu[11]. R.
Chananel and R. Al-fasi, therefore, did not see a need for demanding a wait
after poultry as there was little concern that Rabbanites and Qaraites would be
dining together over such fowl. Furthermore, it was difficult to reread the
obvious permitting statement of the Talmud, עוף וגבינה
נאכלין באפיקורן. During the century between these sages
and the rise of Rambam (1135-1204) to prominence, Qaraites widely allowed
themselves to eat the same fowl consumed by the Rabbanite community. Now a
Qaraite-Rabbanite poultry dinner was possible and influence from the cooking
practices of “the eaters of milk with meat” (the nickname for Qaraites) was
real. Rambam, seeking to protect Rabbanite tradition from Qaraite values by
building social barriers, creatively placed fowl alongside meat in the
requirement to wait six hours before dairy:

מִי
שֶׁאָכַל בָּשָׂר בַּתְּחִלָּה, בֵּין בְּשַׂר בְּהֵמָה בֵּין בְּשַׂר עוֹף–לֹא
יֹאכַל אַחֲרָיו חָלָב עַד שֶׁיִּשְׁהֶה בֵּינֵיהֶן כְּדֵי שֵׁעוּר סְעוֹדָה
אַחֶרֶת, וְהוּא כְּמוֹ שֵׁשׁ שָׁעוֹת:  מִפְּנֵי
הַבָּשָׂר שֶׁלְּבֵין הַשִּׁנַּיִם, שְׁאֵינוּ סָר בְּקִנּוּחַ

(רמב”ם משנה תורה מאכלות אסורות פרק ט’
הלכה כז)

This addition did not
go unnoticed. In the two generations following Rambam, the greatest rishonim
criticized the Rambam’s reform as it reversed the ruling of the Bavli. Ramban
(1194-1270) was the first to challenge Rambam’s alteration:

…
אבל הרמב”ן ז”ל כתב דאגרא אפילו עוף ואחר כך גבינה שרא דלישנא הכי משמע
דקאמר עוף וגבינה…(ר”ן על הרי”ף חולין דף לז’)

R. Aaron Halevi
(1230-1300) also challenged Rambam’s ruling:

…ואפילו
הכי שרינן בעוף בלא נטילת ידים משום דקיל דלא מיתסר אלא מדרבנן, ודאי לא שני לן
בין עוף ואחר כך גבינה בין גבינה ואחר כך עוף… הוא הדין לקנוח הפה דלא בעינן
אפי’ בין עוף לגבינה…. ולהוציא קצת מדברי רבי’ ז”ל (=הרמב”ם) שפרשו
דההיא דאגרא דאמר עוף וגבנה נאכלין באפיקורן דוקא גבינה תחילה ואחר כך עוף…
(חידושי רא”ה לחולין דף קד’)

However, within a
century of the publication of Mishna Torah, creative ways of
reinterpreting the words of אגרא were created to fit
this new reform into the Talmud[12].
Tur (1275-1340) YD 89 cites Rambam’s ruling on poultry as if none other exists.

Professor Daniel Frank has thoroughly examined the historical
development of the laws of kosher birds in Qaraite halacha in his monograph,
“May Karaites Eat Chicken? Indeterminacy in Sectarian Halakhic Exegesis”[13].
My chiddush is that the inclusion of chicken, duck, and quail in Qaraite
cuisine in the 12th century provoked Rambam’s tightening of the
poultry and dairy separation laws. Unless noted otherwise, the following
sources and translations are summarized from Frank’s article:

Views of Early Qaraite Scholars

Anan ben David
In his Book of Commandments[14], the early learned schismatic, Anan
ben David (c. 715 – c. 795) writes the following:

Now we do not find any birds were
used for burnt offerings save turtledoves and pigeons, as it is written… (in
lev. 1:14). The juxtaposition of the words ‘of every clean bird’ and ‘he
offered burnt offerings’ thus proves that the only clean birds are turtledoves
and pigeons.

Benjamin Nahawandi
One
of the greatest of the Qaraite scholars of the early ninth century, Benjamin Nahawandi, states:

The only clean birds that can be
eaten are the pigeon and its kind. There are many clean and unclean varieties…
but they cannot be identified by means of physical criteria, since Scripture
does not make these explicit. … The pigeon is (the bird) that makes the cooing
noise in is throat, as it is stated: We coo like doves (Is. 59:11)….
Therefore the only clean bird that is mentioned is the pigeon and its kind[15].

The identification of other clean birds remains uncertain
because the Torah provides no physical description of the birds. Pigeons (and
their turtledove subspecies) are an exception because the Scriptural verse, We
coo like doves (Is. 59:11), gives a physical sign to identify the
bird.  

Daniel al-Qumisi
Daniel al-Qumisi (d. in Jerusalem 946), founder of the Qaraite
“Mourners of Zion” movement, likewise insisted that because Biblical Hebrew is no longer
the vernacular, the meaning of most of the birds of the Torah has been
forgotten; “for God-fearing people, the only permitted birds are turtledoves,
pigeons and wild pigeons- at least until the coming of the Righteousness”[16].
He attacks the Rabbanites for having invented physical criteria for identifying
kosher birds- as Scripture does not supply these.

Jacob Al-Qirqisani
The
early tenth century Qaraite dogmatist and exegete, Jacob Al-Qirqisani writes similarly
in his Kitabal-Anwar (written in 937):

Should someone say, “The people
already knew these signs via oral tradition from the prophet…” He may be
answered: “As for your statement that the people used to know these signs via
oral tradition from the prophet- this is (but) a claim. You have no proof of
this….”[17]

Japeth ben Ali
The maskil
ha-Golah and
foremost Qariate Bible commentator, Japeth ben Ali (10th century, born in Iraq
and died in Jerusalem), emphasized that pigeons and turtledoves are the only
unquestionably permitted birds; all other species should be avoided.

Of all the birds, those which are
demonstrably permitted are turtledove and pigeon…. As for chicken, mountain
quail, partridge, duck, goose, crane, sparrow, and others- we must suspend
judgement concerning them all- “until he comes and teaches righteousness”
(Hos.10:12)[18]

Rabbanite Rishonim

The rishonim were very familiar with Qaraite claims.

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

Targum Psuedo-Yonathan[20]

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

וית אלין מינייא תשקצון מן עופא דלית
להון ציבעא יתירא ודלית ליה זפקתא ודקורקבניה ליתוהי מקליף לא יתאכלון (תרגום
יונתן ויקרא יא:יג)

The Targum’s author included the physical criteria for
kosher birds to imply that these signs are contained within the Torah itself
and valid- unlike the views of early Qaraites who disregarded these signs only
known by rabbinic tradition.

Mah-Yedidut [21]

The popular Friday night zemer, Mah-Yedidut, by Menachem (possibly ben
Saruq[22],
920-980 Spain), highlights the differences between the Rabbanite and Qaraite
Sabbath. Menachem emphasizes the obligations of kavod  ve’oneg Shabbos (לְבוּשׁ
בִּגְדֵי חֲמוּדוֹת
and עֹֽנֶג קְרָא לַשַּׁבָּת[23],
וְהַשֵּׁנָה מְשֻׁבַּֽחַת)
and kindling Sabbath lights ([24]לְהַדְלִיק
נֵר בִּבְרָכָה),
the permissibility of thinking of post-Sabbath work ([25]הִרְהוּרִים
מֻתָּרִים)
and gives an allusion to marital relations        (כַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים
סוּגָה[26],
בּוֹ יָנֽוּחוּ בֵּן וּבַת וְלָנֽוּחַ בְּחִבַּת) – all points of contention between
Qaraites and Rabbanites.

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

Byzantium 

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

However, only half a century later, the Byzantine Qaraite scholar, Judah Hadassi, tells that many of
his landsmen allowed themselves to partake of these fowl. In his Eshkol
ha-Kofer (1148), Hadassi notes this transition in Qaraite law with
disapproval:

Now some of the (Karaite) teachers
approved those domestic fowl, which are customarily raised in their home. (They
did so) because this was the choice of the entire nation, not because there are
any scriptural allusions that justify or confirm (this practice). Happy is he
who guards himself wholeheartedly against uncertainties so that he is stringent
in all (matters pertaining) to ritual slaughter! For knowledge of the Holy
Tongue has disappeared from our midst, and we no longer know the names of (the
birds) so as to recognize which is permitted and which is forbidden to us.
Therefore we will remain silent until (Elijah) comes and teaches us
righteousness. But if we rely upon custom (minhag) and tradition, does
this tradition not take away from and add to our Torah, even contradicting it
in part?

Eventually, the lenient approach to the kosher status of
chicken and duck became the norm and the Qaraite Nicomedian theologian, Aaron ben Elijah
(1328-1369), states definitely in his Gan
Eden (1354):

Since knowledge of our language has
now become deficient during our exile, we do not know the clean species. All
that remains in fact, is knowledge of several of the names (mentioned) in
Scripture and those known via the tradition (sevel ha-yerushah[30]),
such as pigeon, turtledove, quail, partridge, swan, chicken, and goose. For it
has been transmitted, one person from the next, that these are raised
domestically and that they are permitted…[31]

Spain

These transformations in Qaraite halacha were taking place in the Byzantine
Empire during Rambam’s lifetime though geographically removed from him. The
Rambam did correspond with students and scholars from France to Syria and even
had knowledge of a Jewish community in India. We also see in Rambam much
anti-Qaraite activity. It can be assumed that Rambam had his finger on the
pulse of nuances in Qaraites halachic and cultural development. However, Rambam
may have had an even more intimate knowledge of these developments. There is
evidence that the Qaraite fowl ‘kosherification’ process was taking place in
Rambam’s very own mother country, Spain, while Rambam was yet a young man:

R. Yehuda Halevi (1075 – 1141) writes
in his Kuzari (completed
around 1140):

והייתי
רוצה כי ישיבו לי הקראים תשובה מספקת על זה… ועוד רוצה הייתי כי יבארו לי מה בין
העוף המותר לבין העוף האסור (זולת העופות המפרסמים כיונה ותור) ומנין להם כי
התרנגלת והאוז והברוז והתכי אינם מן העופות הטמאים (כוזרי ג:לה)

 I wish the Qaraites would give me a
satisfactory answer to questions of this kind… I desire an explanation of the
lawful and unlawful birds, excepting the common ones, such as the pigeon and
turtledove. How do they know that the hen, goose, duck, and partridge are not
unclean birds?” (Kuzari 3:35)

This passage indicates that by the 1130s, (note- Rambam was
born in 1135), Qaraites in Spain permitted the consumption of the same fowl
eaten by the Rabbanites[32].

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

Many people ask, “If the political anti-Qaraite origins of
the six hour wait are correct, why was this fact not expressed by rishonim and
medieval writers?” In “Waiting Six Hours for Dairy- A Rabbanite
Response to Qaraism”, I cited the opinion of R. Tam and others that R.
Chananel’s six hour ruling was instituted merely because בקעא
מצאו
וגדרו
בה
גדר. There was indeed some awareness of
social-political causation. However, the anti-Qaraite purpose of Rambam’s
poultry-wait innovation went unnoted. Rambam had discreetly inserted fowl
alongside genuine meat in his Mishna Torah. Many later authorities may
have assumed that Rambam, the scion of an illustrious rabbinical family,
possessed an alternative method of interpreting the Talmud. The reason why R.
Chananel, R. Al-fasi, and Rambam did not disclose the reasons for their
halachic reforms is readily understood in light of the following passage:

…דאמר
עולא כי גזרי גזירתא במערבא לא מגלו טעמא עד תריסר ירחי שתא דלמא איכא איניש דלא
ס”ל ואתי לזלזולי בה (ע”ז לה ע”א)

In
Eretz Yisroel when a decree was issued its purpose was not revealed for twelve
months. This is because many people would not accept the meaning, and
consequently would show a negative attitude toward the decree.  (Avodah Zara 35a)

The general Rabbanite
populace may not have adhered to the new strict laws if they realized they were
merely enacted for social-political reasons.  

HaRav David Bar-Hayim of Machon Shilo has already noted in
his “Meat and Milk” series (here) that Rambam was the first to
require any waiting between poultry and dairy. He therefore opines that one may
eat poultry and then dairy without even kinuach ve’hadacha as clear from
the Talmud, Gaonim, and early Baalei Tosfos[34]. 

For more interesting articles visit www.UncensoredJudaism.com

What Did the
Willows Ever Do to Deserve Such a Beating?

An Original
Explanation for a Perplexing Custom

By Steven Weiner 

Introduction

The
seventh day of Sukkot – the day we now call הושענא רבה – has no special significance in the Torah.  The day has no distinctive name; no mitzvot
or rules distinguish it from the rest of Sukkot; its sacrifices follow
precisely the same pattern as the previous six days; and, unlike the seventh day
of Pesach, the seventh day of Sukkot is not even a מקרא קדש.  In other words, the seventh day of Sukkot
appears in the Torah as indistinguishable from the other days of המועד חול.

Nevertheless,
the Talmud describes several unique practices that were performed on הושענא רבה.  One such practice is the custom we still
observe today known as חיבוט ערבות (chibut aravot),
beating our ערבות against the ground. 
What is the meaning of this strange ritual, and does it have any meaningful
relationship with הושענא רבה?

A
most mysterious מנהג
נביאים

According
to the Mishna (Sukka 4:5), on each day
of Sukkot the people brought tall ערבות branches to the מקדש and stood them on the
ground surrounding the מזבח,
thereby adorning the מזבח with an overhanging
canopy of leaves.  The Gemara (Sukka
44a-44b) concludes that this practice is rooted in a הלכה למשה מסיני
(an
oral tradition received at Sinai).  However,
while the Mishna describes only a ritual performed inside the מקדש, the Gemara adds that a custom involving ערבות also
developed later outside of the מקדש – but only on one day of Sukkot, הושענא רבה.[1]  The Gemara describes this custom using the
verb חיבוט –
understood by Rashi as waving the ערבות,
and by Rambam as beating them e.g. against the floor.  The familiar custom nowadays is to take a
bundle of ערבות on הושענא רבה and strike it
sharply, several times, against the floor or a chair.

What is the
source and meaning of חיבוט ערבות outside the מקדש?  The Gemara (Sukka 44b) calls this practice a מנהג נביאים (“custom of the
prophets”).  Rashi and other traditional
commentators understand this as meaning that the custom was instituted by the trio
of prophetsחגי
זכרי’ ומלאכי , who prophesied during the early Second Temple period and were
members of אנשי כנסת הגדולה.  However, barely one page earlier (44a), the Gemara indicates חיבוט ערבות is a זכר למקדש!  Indeed, Rambam and numerous other subsequent authorities
who discuss the practice of חיבוט
ערבות echo the Gemara on both counts, dubbing
the practice a זכר למקדש
as
well as a מנהג נביאים.  But performing a זכר למקדש
is
an act of דרישת
ציון, a response to Yirmiyahu’s cry that poor
Zion lies destroyed and abandoned with none seeking her.[2]  How could a זכר למקדש in
the spirit of דרישת ציון possibly make sense in the earliest days
of the Second Temple, centuries before its destruction[3]? 

Furthermore, why
does the Gemara ascribe this custom specifically to the prophets?  The intriguing term מנהג נביאים is not used elsewhere
in the Talmud.  While many familiar practices
are known as enactments of אנשי
כנסת הגדולה (the Rabbinic authority during שיבת ציון, whose
members included חגי זכריה ומלאכי as well as other leading scholars of that period), they are not
labeled as מנהג נביאים.  What significance is to be found in the
Talmud’s attribution of חיבוט ערבות specifically to the prophets of the early Second
Temple?

In addition, the
peculiar way we perform this custom – beating ערבות against the ground[4] –
also cries out for explanation.  What does
beating branches symbolize?  Moreover, if
the custom is intended to remind us of the ערבות ceremony inside the מקדש, shouldn’t we instead encircle and adorn
the שלחן with
our ערבות, just as the מזבח was
encircled and adorned with ערבות in the מקדש?  After all, we commemorate the practice of הקפות in
the מקדש (Mishna Sukka 4:5) by marching around the שלחן in very similar
fashion.  Why then do we commemorate a
ceremony of adorning the מזבח by beating our ערבות against the ground?

Affirming a powerful prophecy by acting
it out

I believe the
key to unlocking the significance of חיבוט ערבות may be found by
examining the visions proclaimed by the prophets of שיבת ציון.

The Second
Temple was built in a climate of intensely mixed emotions.  The austere structure of שיבת ציון paled against the splendid, opulent בית ראשון
constructed
by Solomon.  Celebrating their first
Sukkot shortly after rebuilding the מזבח,
the people of Ezra’s time offered the obligatory holiday offerings בְּמִסְפָּר
כְּמִשְׁפַּט דְּבַר־יוֹם בְּיוֹמוֹ – “by number, according to the obligation of each day.”  In contrast, Solomon offered such bountiful
sacrifices for the inauguration of בית ראשון that the capacity of the מזבח was
overwhelmed and more space had to be specially consecrated![7]  Moreover,
בית ראשון
was
graced with a visible appearance of God’s presence, ‘ה כְּבוֹד, with clouds filling the Temple upon its
dedication, just as occurred in the original משכן.[8]  No comparable revelation is reported for בית שני.  Accordingly, elders who remembered the
magnificent First Temple wept loudly over the Second Temple’s modest foundations,
and the inaugural ceremony was accompanied by a heart-rending mixture of tears
and rejoicing (Ezra 3:12-13).  To make matters even worse, Persia soon
suspended further rebuilding of the Temple
in response to slander against the Jews by their envious, non-Jewish
neighbors (see Ezra 4).

חגי פרק ב

(ד) וְעַתָּה חֲזַק זְרֻבָּבֶל נְאֻם־יְקֹוָק, וַחֲזַק יְהוֹשֻׁעַ
בֶּן־יְהוֹצָדָק הַכֹּהֵן הַגָּדוֹל, וַחֲזַק כָּל־עַם הָאָרֶץ נְאֻם־יְקֹוָק,
וַעֲשׂוּ – כִּי־אֲנִי אִתְּכֶם, נְאֻם יְקֹוָק צְבָקוֹת:

(ה) אֶת־הַדָּבָר אֲשֶׁר־כָּרַתִּי אִתְּכֶם בְּצֵאתְכֶם
מִמִּצְרַיִם וְרוּחִי עֹמֶדֶת בְּתוֹכְכֶם אַל־תִּירָאוּ:

(ו) כִּי
כֹה אָמַר יְקֹוָק צְבָקוֹת:
עוֹד אַחַת מְעַט הִיא, וַאֲנִי מַרְעִישׁ
אֶת־הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֶת־הָאָרֶץ וְאֶת־הַיָּם וְאֶת־הֶחָרָבָה:

(ז) וְהִרְעַשְׁתִּי אֶת־כָּל־הַגּוֹיִם וּבָאוּ חֶמְדַּת
כָּל־הַגּוֹיִם וּמִלֵּאתִי אֶת־הַבַּיִת הַזֶּה כָּבוֹד אָמַר יְקֹוָק
צְבָקוֹת:

(ט) גָּדוֹל
יִהְיֶה כְּבוֹד הַבַּיִת הַזֶּה הָאַחֲרוֹן מִן־הָרִאשׁוֹן אָמַר יְקֹוָק
צְבָקוֹת וּבַמָּקוֹם
הַזֶּה אֶתֵּן שָׁלוֹם נְאֻם יְקֹוָק צְבָקוֹת:

I suggest our מנהג נביאים of
beating ערבות has its roots in this prophecy.  When חגי received these powerful words, cutting
to the heart of the difficult challenges that he and his generation faced, he responded
by acting out his own prophecy –
וְהִרְעַשְׁתִּי /אֲנִי מַרְעִישׁ, “God
will shake the heavens and the earth” – by striking the earth sharply with a
bundle of ערבות.[10]
 Using ערבות poignantly evoked the
similar branches that were used on that same day by the people within the מקדש to
encircle and celebrate their modest, fragile מזבח.

Prophets
in the Bible often acted out the imagery of their prophecies, as a way of affirming
and reinforcing their visions.  Ramban notes
this phenomenon in his commentary to the Torah (Breisheet 12:6).  One famous example
is even highly reminiscent of חיבוט
ערבות: Elisha instructed the King of Israel to bang arrows on the ground,
in order to affirm Elisha’s prophecy that Israel would smite and defeat its enemy
(Melachim II 13:16-17).  It is easy to picture חגי
following
in Elisha’s path and striking the ground with ערבות in place of
arrows, as an affirmation of his own prophecy ofוְהִרְעַשְׁתִּי /מַרְעִישׁ and
as a prayer to God that it be completely and speedily fulfilled.[11]

Thus,
חיבוט ערבות was from its very
inception both מנהג נביאים
and זכר למקדש – a זכר למקדש ראשון!!  Our puzzle is solved!  חגי and his colleagues performed חיבוט ערבות in the purest spirit of דרישת ציון.  Their ritual expressed a heartfelt plea for
the redemptive upheaval (רעש) that they envisioned, so that the full glory of בית ראשון could be
restored and exceeded.  At the same time,
the custom also served as a reminder of God’s command to חגי that we
strengthen ourselves and act courageously in fulfillment of God’s mandate to
continue rebuilding.

Although
בית שני was eventually completed, the longed-for glory of Solomon’s
era remained elusive. Judea was a vassal state for most of the Second Temple
period.  God’s presence (שכינה) was not manifest in בית שני, at least in
comparison with בית ראשון.[12]
 Therefore, it makes sense that חגי
and
his colleagues, and eventually all Jews, would annually repeat the custom of חיבוט ערבות outside
the מקדש on
הושענא רבה, affirming the
yearned-for prophecy on its anniversary.  To this day, in the prayer we recite just
before חיבוט ערבות – known as (“”קול מבשר) אומץ ישעך – we plead for complete and imminent
redemption by evoking “sounds” of deliverance including the earth-shaking upheaval
around Jerusalem foretold by זכרי’ , close colleague of חגי.  Like the original
prophecy of חגי, and much
like אני מאמין,
our custom of beating ערבות expresses both a prayer to God for redemption as well as
an uplifting pledge of faith and determination.

Our
novel interpretation also explains why the custom of חיבוט ערבות outside the מקדש is unique
to הושענא רבה.  The Gemara (Sukka 44a) explains why חיבוט
ערבות is performed on only one day of
Sukkot, as opposed to all seven days, but never explains the choice of which
day.[13]
 According to our explanation, the prophecy
of חגי
is
naturally reenacted and reaffirmed on its anniversary.  Intriguingly, Taz[14] suggests
חיבוט ערבות is
performed on הושענא רבה because of its unique holiness: יותר קדושה ביום זה.  Our proposal offers one way of interpreting
that special holiness.  הושענא רבה, the anniversary of בבית ראשון
חנכת המזבח
and
of נבואת חגי, is a day
of yearning for full redemption and the imminence of God’s presence – precisely
the theme expressed by חיבוט ערבות.

Counterpoint: who dares scorn the day of
small beginnings?

While
beating ערבות outside of the מקדש expressed a deep longing for more
completion redemption, adorning the מזבח with a beautiful canopy of ערבות sounded a complementary
note inside the מקדש.  I believe this latter
practice acquired particular poignancy during the Second Temple period,
precisely because nagging feelings of disappointment over the limited “glory”
of that redemption were so palpable from the very start.  As cited above from Ezra 3, tears threatened
to drown out the shouts of joy heralding the inauguration of the Second
Temple.  Likewise, חגי
in
his הושענא רבה prophecy hears God say: “Who among you remembers the
glory of the First Temple, and what do you think of this house now?  It is nothing in your eyes!”

In
the prophecy of חגי, God’s primary response to these feelings of disappointment is
a promise that the future can be brighter if the people will only be strong and
act with courage and faith.  However, in 4:10
זכרי’, we hear
a somewhat different response: כִּי מִי בַז לְיוֹם קְטַנּוֹת?  – Who scorns
the day of small things?  I sense a sharp
tone of rebuke in the word “scorn”: Who dares to scorn the גאולה of שיבת ציון simply because it appears “small” and
modest compared to Solomon’s empire?  Shouldn’t
the people be grateful for even the smallest beginnings of גאולה?  Perhaps
חגי
2:3
contains a hint of the same rebuke: is the nascent בית שני really nothing
in your eyes?

I
suggest that for the Jews of the Second Temple[15],
adorning the מזבח with ערבות
became a deeply meaningful way of expressing gratitude and appreciation for the
redemption they enjoyed, imperfect as it was. 
The ceremony became a way of saying: we will never scorn you, oh מזבח, you are precious to
us!  In fact, the Mishna (Sukka 4:5) records that when the
ceremonies in the מקדש were completed on הושענא רבה, the people shouted: יופי לך מזבח, יופי לך מזבח
(“beauty is yours, מזבח”).  The reason for this charming salute to the
altar is not discussed in the Talmud, and several commentaries have commented
on it.[16]  Personally, I cannot help but hear an unmistakable
echo of the “cheers of ‘Beauty! Beauty!’” foretold in 4:7 זכרי’:

מִי־אַתָּה הַר־הַגָּדוֹל לִפְנֵי זְרֻבָּבֶל לְמִישֹׁר וְהוֹצִיא
אֶת־הָאֶבֶן הָרֹאשָׁה תְּשֻׁאוֹת חֵן חֵן לָהּ:

Whatever great mountain
[obstacle] lies before Zerubavel –will be flattened!  He will present the cornerstone amid cheers of
“beauty, beauty!”

This vision of זכרי’
is adjacent
to his rebuke against those who scorn the day of small things.  The prophet’s message is that when the cornerstone
of the new Temple is placed, the proper response is joyous applause of “beauty,
beauty!”  Do not dare to be so ungrateful
as to scorn the modest beginnings of our new מקדש, thunders זכרי’!  I suggest that for the
people of בית שני,
the ערבות ceremony around the מזבח was an opportunity
to align themselves with those who gratefully cheered the cornerstone, and to
distance themselves from any thoughts of scorn.

Our
novel interpretation of the ערבות ceremony in the מקדש is further supported by the Gemara’s
citation (Sukka 45a) of Tehilim
118:27 – אִסְרוּ־חַג
בַּעֲבֹתִים עַד־קַרְנוֹת הַמִּזְבֵּחַ – as a source for encircling the מזבח with a canopy of ערבות. 

In
this section of Tehilim, familiar to us from Hallel, just a few verses earlier (118:22)
we read:

אֶבֶן מָאֲסוּ הַבּוֹנִים
הָיְתָה לְרֹאשׁ פִּנָּה

The
lowly stone once scorned by many is now the celebrated cornerstone!  This echoes the message and “stone” imagery
of זכרי’ that we
read above.  As Tehilim 118 continues, we
rejoice in this remarkable gift from God (23-24), we bless those who come
paying respects to the מקדש (26), and we gratefully salute the מזבח by encircling it
with leafy boughs (27).  The Gemara’s
citation of this excerpt from Tehilim as a source for adorning the מזבח makes perfect sense.

A Message for Our Own Era

We
have suggested a new interpretation for the mysterious custom of חיבוט ערבות, attributed by the
Gemara to the prophets of שיבת ציון.  We suggest the custom
arose from confrontation with the incomplete redemption of the Second Temple era.  The seemingly bizarre ritual of shaking
branches and striking the ground expressed profound longing for (and faith in) a
more perfect גאולה,
by vividly acting out the vision of חגי that one day God will bring a fully redemptive
“upheaval” when His presence returns to “shake” the earth and overthrow all
oppressors.  This same theme is
emphasized even today on הושענא
רבה in our prayers accompanying חיבוט ערבות.

At
the same time, we have also suggested that the related practice of adorning the
מזבח with
a beautiful canopy of boughs and shouting יופי לך מזבח expressed a complementary
sense of gratitude.  Even as the people
of בית שני pined
for complete redemption, they acknowledged the partial, beautiful redemption
which they had merited to receive, and did not dare scorn it.

How
fortunate are we in contemporary times, two thousand years after the Second
Temple’s destruction, that while still yearning for שלמה
גאולה, we can once again also express gratitude
for an imperfect but precious redemption already granted us.  Indeed today’s Jerusalem and Israel are
beautiful gifts – יופי לך
– as well as a work-in-progress.  As we
continue to beat our branches against the earth crying out for the קול מבשר heralding our ultimate redemption, and committing ourselves to the national
project of rebuilding (materially and spiritually), we dare not forget to appreciate
the remarkable gifts God has already bestowed upon us.

According to Russian statistics, Vilna had close to 200,000 inhabitants just prior to World War I, roughly forty percent of whom were Jewish, more than thirty percent were Polish, and about twenty percent were Russian and the rest consisted of small Lithuanian, Byelorussian, German and Tartar minorities.[1]

In 1919, the Paris Peace Conference was convened by the winning parties of World War I. Its purpose was to map the future of postwar Europe. When the status of Vilna came up for discussion, the Lithuanians claimed Vilnius as the rightful historical capital of independent Lithuania; the Poles rejected such claims on the basis of the cultural and linguistic affinities of Wilno to Poland. The Soviet regime, in diplomatic isolation, voiced its opinion that although Vilna had been part of Russia, the Bolsheviks were ready to share it with the oppressed peoples (mostly peasants) of Lithuanian and Byelorussian origins. Nobody asked or wanted to hear what Vilne meant to the Jews.[2]

In the summer of 1935, the municipal authorities of Vilna, then under Polish rule, announced that a sports stadium would be constructed on the site of Vilna’s oldest Jewish cemetery.³ At the time, the graves and tombstones of such greats as R. Menahem Mannes Chajes (d. 1636), one of Vilna’s earliest Chief Rabbis; R. Moshe Rivkes (d. 1671), author of Be’er Ha-Golah, a classic commentary on the Shulhan Arukh; R. Shlomo Zalman (d. 1788), younger brother of R. Hayyim of Volozhin and a favorite disciple of the Gaon of Vilna; R. Elijah b. Solomon (d. 1797), the Gaon of Vilna; and R. Abraham Danzig (d. 1820), author of Hayye Adam, a digest of practical Jewish law, stood in all their glory together with several thousand graves of all the Jewish men, women and children who had lived and died in Vilna between the years of 1592 and 1831.[4]

Tombstone Inscription of R. Menahem Mannes Chajes (d. 1636), embedded in the wall at the extreme left, in the Old Jewish Cemetery.

Tomb of R. Shlomo Zalman (d. 1788), younger brother of R. Hayyim of Volozhin, in the Old Jewish Cemetery.

Tomb of R. Elijah b. Solomon (d. 1797), the Gaon of Vilna, top right, in the Old Jewish Cemetery.

Grave and Tombstone Inscription of R. Abraham Danzig (d. 1820), center, in the Old Jewish Cemetery.

R. Chaim Ozer Grodzenski, spiritual leader of Vilna Jewry, as well as the leading Torah authority of his generation, interceded on behalf of Vilna and worldwide Jewry. He made it clear than no such desecration of a Jewish cemetery would be tolerated by the Jewish community. When the municipal authorities informed him that under the laws that applied at the time any cemetery not in use for one hundred years or more (the old Jewish cemetery was closed in 1831 due to lack of space) could be demolished by government decision, R. Chaim Ozer was adamant and informed the authorities that Jewish law prohibits the desecration of any Jewish cemetery, whether or not presently in use. Moreover, R. Chaim Ozer informed the authorities that the Jewish community would not comply in any way with the immoral demands of the municipal government. An attempt at a compromise was then made by the authorities; they were prepared to allow the section where the famous rabbis were buried to remain standing, so long as the Jewish community would agree to allow the government to demolish the remainder of the cemetery – where ordinary folk, i.e., men, women, and children were buried. R. Chaim Ozer ruled out any such compromise solution and, instead, engaged in a tireless, worldwide lobbying campaign, in an effort to persuade the government officials to rescind their decree.[5]

R. Chaim Ozer Grodzenski (in 1939).

When some rabbis in Palestine – sensing the gravity of the situation – issued a broadside calling for the grave of the Gaon of Vilna to be exhumed so that his remains could be transferred to the Holy Land, R. Chaim Ozer was livid. For, explained R. Chaim Ozer, by acquiescing to the exhumation and transfer of famous rabbis, one in effect consigns the rest of the cemetery to mass destruction. Moreover, it sets a precedent for all governments in Europe – just transfer the famous rabbis out of the Jewish cemetery and the Jews will agree to abandon the remainder of the cemetery.[6] The upshot of R. Chaim Ozer’s wisdom and intransigence was that under his watch,

no sports stadium was constructed on the old Jewish cemetery.[7] R. Chaim Ozer died on August 9 [= 5 Av], 1940.[8] Vilna, and arguably world Jewry, would never again have a leader who so deftly and gracefully combined within himself mastery of Torah, practical wisdom, and an unswerving commitment to the dissemination and protection of Jewish values – with profound and unstinting loyalty to his people, both living and deceased – under any and all circumstances.

Despite a Jerusalem Post story that would suggest otherwise (“Anger Flares Over Lithuanian Sports Palace,” Sam Sokol, 8/11/2015) there is today a remarkable consensus in Vilnius that the site of the former Snipiskes Cemetery and the graves beneath must be protected. On this matter, the government of Lithuania, the Lithuanian Jewish community which I chair, and the Committee for the Preservation of Jewish Cemeteries in Europe (CPJCE), which is Europe’s foremost halachic authority on cemeteries, all agree.

Attention is now focused on the abandoned former Soviet Sports Palace, which partially sits on the cemetery grounds and in its current condition is mostly a gathering place for graffiti artists and alcoholics. The government rightly wants to remove the building and turn it into a center for conferences and cultural events. Because the building itself has been designated an architectural heritage site, no significant structural changes are possible, but the interior will be renovated. The surrounding area will be maintained as a memorial park with inscriptions that describe some of the most famous people who were buried there.

The Lithuanian government and the CPJCE have an agreement dating to 2009, concerning the cemetery site. Even though we are only in a planning stage and still months away from any construction, recent discussions between the two have worked out an understanding for dealing with the renovation of the former Sports Palace. The CPJCE will provide rabbinic oversight and ensure that there are no halachic violations in the course of the work that takes place. The government has further agreed to limit the type of activities that will take place in the renovated center so that they are in keeping with the special nature of the site.

If anything, this should be a cause for celebration and a model for how other governments in our part of the world should deal with similar challenges of respecting and protecting Jewish cemeteries and the mass graves of Holocaust victims.

So what accounts for the “angry voices” in your story and the outrageous claims that a “desecration” is taking place?

No doubt some of those quoted are simply uninformed, and this fuller explanation will assuage their concerns. But sadly there are others who do know better but are using this issue to advance their own personal feuds and grievances. Some of them are rivals to the CPJCE, and while they would never publicly criticize its eminent Chairman, Rabbi Elyakim Schlesinger, they pretend not to know his involvement here. Perhaps even more destructive is the role being played by our community’s former rabbi, Chaim Burstein. His contract was recently terminated – he has spent more days abroad on his personal business than serving our Jews here in Lithuania – and so he is spreading these stories in order to attack me. It pains me to say these things, but your readers should know the truth.

As a proud Litvak who has the honor to chair a small but resilient Jewish community I have been part of many difficult struggles during these past decades as we have pressed the Lithuanian government to return former Jewish property and pressed the Lithuanian people to squarely confront the history of our Holocaust-era past. Those struggles are not over, but we have had much success. How ironic that as we now have Lithuanian leaders who are prepared to see clearly what happened in the past, we have fellow Jews who refuse to see clearly what is happening today.

Faina Kukliansky

           

On August 15, 2015, Faina Kukliansky, Chairperson of the Lithuanian Jewish Community, issued a statement regarding the planned $25,000,000 Convention Center to be constructed by the Lithuanian government, and funded in large part by the European Union’s Structural Funds Program, in the center of Vilnius’ oldest Jewish cemetery – in use from the 16^th through the 19^th centuries – in the Shnipishkes (Yiddish: Shnipishok) section of Vilnius.

In the opening paragraph of the statement, Faina Kukliansky assures all concerned “that the site of the former Snipiskes cemetery and the graves beneath must be protected.” Her assurance, however, rings hollow, for as one reads on, it becomes apparent that she fully supports the idea of a Convention Center being constructed over the remains of the Jews buried in the cemetery.[10]

Ms. Kukliansky writes about the “abandoned former Soviet Sports Palace, which partially sits on the cemetery grounds.” One gets the impression that perhaps an annex to the Soviet-era Sports Palace, or its outer wall, sits on the cemetery grounds. In fact, the Soviet-era Sports Palace sits squarely in the very center of the old Jewish cemetery.[11]

Soviet-Era Sports Palace in Vilna, as it looks today, in the Old Jewish Cemetery.

Ms. Kukliansky continues: “Because the building [i.e., the Soviet-era Sports Palace] itself has been designated an architectural heritage site, no changes are possible.” Really? It was in the Soviet period that all the tombstones were systematically removed from the cemetery between 1948 and 1955, and it was in the Soviet period that a Sports Palace was constructed over the dead bodies of thousands of Vilnius Jews.[12] Now who was it that designated the Soviet Sports Palace an architectural heritage site? If it was the Soviets, what has this to do with Independent Lithuania? If, however, it was Independent Lithuania that made this designation, then rectification is long overdue. Indeed, the government of Lithuania should recognize the Shnipishkes Jewish cemetery as a heritage site of the Jewish community of Vilnius from the 16^th through the 19^th centuries. It should certainly not condone and perpetuate the Soviet desecration of a Jewish cemetery. That the EU supports such misuse of funds is nothing short of scandalous. Surely, there is ample room in and around Vilnius for the construction of a Convention Center someplace other than smack in the center of historically, the single most important Jewish cemetery in Lithuania and one of the most important in all of Europe.

Ms. Kukliansky labels those who disagree with her as “simply uninformed” or having a particular axe to grind. She does not entertain the possibility that building a Convention Center over a Jewish cemetery is not everybody’s cup of tea. I’m afraid it is Ms. Kukliansky who seems to be unaware of how many thousands of graves remain on the site, of how often bones have surfaced in recent years on the face of the cemetery,[13] and how despite prior agreements with the Lithuanian authorities, two entire buildings were constructed in recent years on the cemetery grounds.[14] Does she really believe – as she claims – that the construction of a $25,000,000 Convention Center will involve no excavation outside the present perimeters of the Soviet-era Sports Palace? Does she really believe – as she claims – that the type of activities that will take place in the renovated center will be in keeping with the special nature of the site? I wonder who is “simply uninformed.”

Faina Kukliansky writes: “If anything, this should be a cause for celebration and a model for how governments in our part of the world should deal with similar challenges of respecting and protecting Jewish cemeteries and mass graves of Holocaust victims.”

Nations of Eastern Europe take note! If you want to deal with respecting and protecting Jewish cemeteries, learn from the Vilnius experience. First remove and destroy all Jewish tombstones, and afterwards excavate wherever possible and destroy the remains of those who were buried there. Then build a Sports Palace or a Convention Center in the heart of the Jewish cemetery! Make certain that the new structures are designated architectural heritage sites, so that they cannot be dismantled. This should be followed by a celebration of how Jewish cemeteries have been respected and protected in the most proper fashion.

Faina Kukliansky is to be congratulated for assuming the responsibility of leading a “small but resilient Jewish community.” Sadly, she makes no mention of the fact that heartfelt and pained voices have been raised by a number of distinguished members of her small community, voicing strong opposition to the construction of the Convention Center in the Jewish cemetery.[15] But there is another issue here. Faina Kukliansky is much too modest in thinking that the “small and resilient Jewish community” of Vilnius is her only constituency. The Vilnius Jewish cemeteries belong not only to Vilnius and its Jewish community. The spiritual, as well as the genetic, descendants of the thousands of men and women buried in the Shnipishkes and Zaretcha Jewish cemeteries live the world over. They remember their ancestors, study their writings, often live by their teachings, and should have the right to pray at their graves in a cemetery not desecrated by a Convention Center.

Faina Kukliansky would do well to weigh carefully the consequences of the precedent she is setting. By lending her support to the construction of a Convention Center over the old Jewish cemetery, she places in jeopardy every Jewish cemetery in Europe and, perhaps, elsewhere as well. True, she claims that she relies on a rabbinic ruling issued by the CPJCE in London. Distinguished rabbis the world over, however, have raised their voices in unison against the construction of a Convention Center in the old Jewish cemetery, rendering the London opinion – at best – a minority one. These voices include the leading halakhic authorities in Israel¹⁶ and the United States,¹⁷ and the present heads of the great yeshivot that once graced Lithuania, which due to the Holocaust and Soviet repression had to resettle elsewhere.¹⁸ Faina Kukliansky would also do well to remember the voice raised long ago by her pre-World War II predecessor in Vilna, Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzenski. He did not allow the Polish government to desecrate the very Jewish cemetery that is about to be desecrated by the Lithuanian government with her approval.

Sid Leiman
Professor Emeritus of Jewish History and Literature
Brooklyn College

September 13, 2015
Erev Rosh Ha-Shanah 5776

Notes:

[1] Laimonas Briedis, Vilnius: City of Strangers (Vilnius, 2009), p. 168.
[2] Briedis, op. cit., p. 195. [The Briedis quotes have been slightly edited by me for the sake of clarity. -SL]
[3] See Yaakov Kosovsky-Shahor, ed., אגרות ר‘ חיים עוזר (Bnei Brak, 2000), vol. 1, pp. 400-401. Cf. Dov Eliach, הגאון (Jerusalem, 2002), vol. 3, p. 1142. See also the brief notice in Israel Klausner,
וילנא ירושלים דליטא: דורות האחרונים (Tel-Aviv, 1983), vol. 2, p. 554.
[4] For a concise history of the old Jewish cemetery in Vilna, see Israel Klausner, קורות בית העלמין הישן בוילנה (Vilna, 1935).
[5] In general, see Kosovsky-Shahor, op. cit., vol. 1, pp. 400-405.
[6] Kosovsky-Shahor, op. cit., vol. 1, pp. 402-403.
[7] A soccer field, just north of the old Jewish cemetery, was initiated in 1936 and eventually became Zalgiris Stadium when construction was completed by the Soviets in 1950. See Antanas Papshys, Vilnius: A Guide (Moscow, 1980), p. 127. It is still in use in Vilnius.
[8] For a moving account of his funeral, see Yosef Friedlander, “The Day Vilna Died,” Tradition 37:2 (2003), pp. 88-92.
[9] Faina Kukliansky’s statement was translated from Lithuanian into English and posted on August 15, 2015 on the Lithuanian Jewish Community website here. For the full context of the “Convention Center on the Old Jewish Cemetery” controversy, and for a comprehensive paper trail of statements made by Faina Kukliansky and the various parties involved in the controversy to date, see here. This site exists due to the incredible industry of the indefatigable Professor Dovid Katz of Vilnius, who also has prepared a register of all public voices that have been raised in opposition to the proposed construction of a Convention Center on the old Jewish cemetery, available here.
[10] One suspects that Ms. Kukliansky distinguishes between the land under the former Soviet-era Sport Palace (which, due to the excavations necessary for its construction, presumably led to the disposal of all Jewish remains that had been buried there) and the land surrounding the former Soviet-era Sports Palace (which presumably retains the remains of all those Jews who had been buried there). Thus, she feels comfortable with the construction of a Convention Center over the former Soviet-era Sports Palace. In terms of Jewish law, however, such a distinction is meaningless. Once a Jewish cemetery is consecrated it becomes a hallowed place, much like a synagogue. Like a synagogue, it cannot be used for secular purposes and it may not be desecrated in any way. And like a synagogue, it retains its sanctity whether or not Jews are actually present at any specific time or on a specific day. The Jewish cemetery remains hallowed in its entirety, even if all the remains have been removed from it; how much more so if remains are strewn throughout the cemetery! On the hallowed status of a Jewish cemetery, see, e.g., R. Jacob Moellin (d. 1427), ספר מהרי“ל: מנהגים (Jerusalem, 1989), laws of fasting, p. 270; R. Elijah Shapira, אליהו רבה על ספרי הלבושים, to שלחן ערוך אורח חיים 581:4, note 39; and R. Judah Ashkenazi (d. circa 1742), באר היטב, and R. Samuel Kolin (d. 1806), מחצית השקל, to שלחן ערוך אורח חיים 581:4. In all the passages just cited, every Jewish cemetery is described as a מקום קדוש, i.e. a holy place – which is precisely why Jewish cemeteries are designated as places appropriate for prayer. When a municipal office building, or an apartment house, or a convention center is constructed on a Jewish cemetery, it as an act of desecration. Ms. Kukliansky seems upset about “the outrageous claims that a desecration is taking place.” The claims are hardly outrageous; it is the desecration that is taking place that is outrageous.

That a Jewish cemetery retains its hallowed status even if some or all the remains are removed from it and buried elsewhere is an official ruling of many rabbis, including R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (d. 1995), one of the greatest halakhic decisors of modern times. At שו“ת מנחת שלמה (Jerusalem, 1999), vol. 2, responsum 88, p. 338, he rules unequivocally: “A Jewish cemetery, even if should happen that its remains have been exhumed, remains prohibited [for secular use, or for being sold to a second party], and always retains its character as a Jewish cemetery.” Cf. R. Moshe Feinstein,אגרות משה: יורה דעה חלק ג (New York, 1982), responsum 151, pp. 418-419.
[11] This can be seen by examining maps of the Jewish cemetery prepared during the last 200 years, as well as detailed photographs of the Jewish cemetery taken in the last 100 years. Even U.S. intelligence reports released by Wikileaks concede that “the Sports Palace property indisputably rests in the middle of the former cemetery.” See here.
[12] The Soviet-built Sports Palace, used primarily for volleyball and basketball games, was opened in 1971 and remained in use in Independent Lithuania until 2004.
[13] The evidence here is shocking indeed. See, e.g., Binyomin Rabinowitz, “Can Anything Be Done to Save the Remnants of Vilna’s Old Jewish Cemetery,” Dei’ah VeDibur (August 31, 2005), pp. 1-9, available online here.
[14] See, e.g., the Wikipedia entry on “Jewish Cemeteries of Vilnius”: “The Palace of Concerts and Sports (Lithuanian: Koncertų ir sporto rūmai) was built in 1971 right in the middle of the former cemetery. In 2005, apartment and office buildings were built at the site,” here.
[15] See, e.g., Ruta (Reyzke) Bloshtein’s stirring plea to the Lithuanian government online here.
[16] E.g, Rabbi Samuel Auerbach of Jerusalem, son and successor of R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach.
[17] The list is much too long to be included here. Suffice to mention: Rabbi David Feinstein (head of Mesivta Tiferet Jerusalem), Rabbi Aharon Feldman (head of Ner Israel Rabbinical College), Rabbi Shmuel Kamenetsky (head of Talmudical Yeshiva of Philadelphia), and Rabbi Aaron M. Schechter (head of Mesivta Chaim Berlin).
[18] These include Rabbi Chaim Dov Heller, head of the Telz Yeshiva, formerly in Telshiai, Lithuania; Rabbi Osher Kalmanowitz, head of the Mirrer yeshiva, formerly in Mir, Greater Lithuania (today in Belarus); and Rabbi Aryeh Malkiel Kotler, head of the Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, formerly in Kleck and Sluck, Greater Lithuania (today in Belarus).

This commentary on Psalms is a forgery. While the volume is attributed to Rashbam it was actually written by Satanow. Regarding this forgery, David Rosin writes as follows:[12]

הכי קרא שמו יצחק ויהי כצחוק בעיניו להתחפש במעטה רבנו שמואל ולעשות מעשהו ולעבוד עבודתו. זר מעשהו ונכריה עבודתו, כל השומע יצחק לו

3. In my post here I quoted R. Moses Isaac Ashkenazi in his Ho’il Moshe that King David is not to be regarded as a prophet as he only had ruah ha-kodesh. One of the commenters wrote:

Rashi Megilla 14a quotes a Halachot Gedolot which names David as [a] prophet. Rashi speaks specifically about prophets as opposed to Ruach Hakodesh, and excludes Daniel based on Megilla 3a.

 Another commenter was more strident:

Wonderful example how modern scholars have no place in the Torah world! As first commenter pointed out, Dovid Hamelech is prominent in the list of 48 neviim, and there are scores of sugyos based on the nevuah of DH. The makom mizbeach, etc. Pure AmHaaRatzus!

I am not sure if I am the am ha-aretz he is referring to, which in any case would be uncalled for since I never said that David only had ruah ha-kodesh and was therefore not a prophet. All I did was point out that R. Moses Isaac Ashkenazi said this. When I called the commenter’s attention to the fact that his strong words were directed against R. Ashkenazi, he wrote:

I wouldn’t start up with Hoil Moshe, but was pointing out the danger of someone reading this post, and then taking it at face value. For anyone fluent in Shas they will find numerous references to DH’s nevua. Ruach HaKodesh wouldn’t work for all the halachos we learn out from DH. . . . I do thoroughly enjoy your posts, but find them quite dangerous. I would prefer my children at least stick to Artscroll and have their basics –DH’s nevua – straight!

Now let me say something that I did not put in the comments because I want the entire audience to see it, not just the tiny group that reads the comments. The commenter just quoted is a perfect example of one who is certain of something, and certain that the opposing position is incorrect, and this leads to very harsh language. Let’s leave aside R. Moses Isaac Ashkenazi who is not an important scholar. All would agree that R. Moses Sofer, the Hatam Sofer, is important and certainly not an am ha’aretz (which is the term the commenter used). Yet the Hatam Sofer is explicit that David was not a prophet and only had ruah ha-kodesh, which is exactly what R. Ashkenazi states and what the commenter so harshly attacks. Here are the Hatam Sofer’s words in Torat Moshe ha-Shalem, Ba-Midbar, p. 74.

הנה לא מצינו לישראל מלך שיהי’ גם נביא משולח לעם כי אם משה רבינו ע”ה, דכתיב גבי’ (דברים ל”ג ה’) ויהי בישורון מלך, אבל שארי נביאים לא היו מלכים והמלכים לא התנבאו, ודוד המלך ע”ה רה”ק הו”ל ולא נבואה, ולכן אחז”ל (גיטין נ”ט ע”א) מימות משה עד רבי לא מצינו תורה וגדולה במקום אחד, דאלו כל הנביאים היו עליהם בגדולה השופט והמלך שבימיו, וכל המלכים אפי’ דוד ושלמה היו הנביאים שבדורם גדולים מהם בתורה . . . שהרי אין מלך נביא.

This notion, that the kings were not prophets (other than Moses), is also stated in Zohar, Terumah, p. 154a, and this is presumably the Hatam Sofer’s source. I don’t deny that there are other authoritative sources that contradict this, including passages in the Talmud. Some of them are cited by R. Reuven Margaliyot in his note to the Zohar, ad loc., and we can speculate as to why the Hatam Sofer preferred the Zohar over these other sources. I cite this only to show that commenters should be very careful before labeling something as am ha’aratzus, as you never know whom you might be insulting with this comment.

4. The latest book in my series with Academic Studies Press has recently appeared. It is Sara Reguer, My Father’s Journey: A Memoir of Lost Worlds of Jewish Lithuania. (Reguer is the granddaughter of R. Simcha Zelig Reguer, the dayan of Brisk.) Here is the book’s description.

Born into a leading Lithuanian-Jewish rabbinic family, Moshe Aron Reguer initially followed the path of traditional yeshiva education. His adolescence coincided with World War I and its upheavals, pandemics, and pogroms, as well as with new ideas of Haskalah, Zionism, and socialism. His memoir, recently discovered and here translated and published for the first time, discusses his internal struggles and describes the world around him and the people who influenced him. Moshe Aron Reguer wrote his memoir at the age of 23, on the eve of his departure for Eretz Israel in 1926. However, his story did not end there, but continued in British Mandated Palestine and the United States. He kept in touch with the family in Brest-Litovsk until the Nazis destroyed Jewish Lithuania, and some of their correspondence is included within this volume.

Anyone who is interested in Jewish Lithuania and the great yeshivot will find this book of value.

I also want to call attention to the recent publication of Menachem Kellner, Jewish Universalism, edited by Hava Tirosh-Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes. Kellner’s work has made a great impact, not only in Jewish scholarship but among thinking Jews in general. This small volume is a wonderful read and contains an intellectual portrait of Kellner written by James A. Diamond as well as a lengthy interview with Kellner.

This book is number 12 in Brill’s Library of Contemporary Jewish Philosophers. Here is what has appeared so far and what if forthcoming (taken from the Brill website).

Published Volumes

Vol. 1: Eliezer Schweid: The Responsibility of Jewish Philosophy

Vol. 2: Jonathan Sacks: Universalizing Particularity

Vol. 3: David Novak: Natural Law and Revealed Torah

Vol. 4: Eugene B. Borowitz: Rethinking God and Ethics

Vol. 5: Elliot N. Dorff: In Search of the Good Life

Vol. 6: Judith Plaskow: Feminism, Theology, and Justice

Vol. 7: David R. Blumenthal: Living with God and Humanity

Vol. 8: Moshe Idel: Representing God

Vol. 9: Lenn E. Goodman: Judaism, Humanity, and Nature

Vol. 10: Avi Sagi: Existentialism, Pluralism, and Identity

Vol. 11: Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking

Vol. 12: Menachem Kellner: Jewish Universalism

Forthcoming Volumes

Vol. 13: J. David Bleich: Where Halakhah and Philosophy Meet (est. October 2015)

Vol. 14: Michael Fishbane: Jewish Hermeneutical Theology (est. October 2015)

Vol. 15: Norbert M. Samuelson: Reasoned Faith (est. November 2015)

Vol. 16: Arthur Green: Hasidism for Tomorrow (est. January 2016)

5. The issue of truth-telling in halakhic matters, discussed in the last chapter of my new book, has been of interest to many people. I did not want to be too lengthy in my response to Aryeh Frimer here, because it was not my own independent post. So let me now add some more details. DG reminded me of the following source. According to R. Jacob Moellin, when the Talmud states that a law is rabbinic but a verse is brought as an asmachta, this was done so as to mislead the people into thinking that it is a Torah law so that they would observe it more carefully.[13] In other words, the Sages were engaging in falsehood for a higher purpose.

This is exactly the sort of thing that Frimer claimed is not part of mainstream halakhic thought, a point which I disputed. It also is very relevant to my discussion of the dispute between the Hatam Sofer and R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes regarding “raising the prohibition”. Here are the Maharil’s words, as quoted by his student.

כל היכא דאיתמר מדרבנן הוא וקרא אסמכתא בעלמא, הכי פירושו ודאי תקנתא דרבנן הוא והם יצאו ובדקו ומצאו להם סמך מקרא, וסמכו דבריהם עליו כדי להחזיקם שיהיו סבורים דהוא מדאורייתא ויחמירו בו, ולא אתו לזלזל ולהקל בדברי חכמים

In the notes to this text, the editor informs us that one of the manuscripts has a different version. Instead of כדי להחזיקם שיהיו סבורים it reads להטעות הבריות שהם סבורים. This text is even more explicit that the Sages were not being honest with the masses. This manuscript has a handwritten note explaining that instead of reading להטעות הבריות it should say להטעים לבריות because the word להטעות is a דבר מגונה . In other words, the person who made this “correction” was troubled by the explicit statement that the Sages would deceive people, even if it was for a higher cause.

If there is one thing people have learnt from my posts over the years, it is that whenever you find a passage that diverges radically from what others think is appropriate, you will find those who deny the passage’s authenticity. In this case, the most prominent of the deniers is R. Joseph Engel[14]:

לענ”ד לא מיסתברי כלל ולא אאמין כלל שיצאו מפה קדוש המהרי”ל ז”ל

R. Simhah Klein writes[15]:

וכי ישקרו חז”ל לחזק דבריהם שיהיו סבורין דהוא דאורייתא

However, R. Eliyahu Bohbut is not at all bothered by the claim of the Maharil that the Sages engaged in a form of deception vis-à-vis the masses. After quoting the passage he explains matter-of-factly[16]:

כלומר דאסמכתא באה כביכול “להטעות” את העם שיסברו דאיכא איסור דאורייתא “ויחמירו בו”

Regarding one of the other matters I discussed in the book, namely, so-called “Orthodox history”, the folllowing appears in Divrei David (p. 30a), a collection of teachings of R. David Moses Friedman, the first Chortkover Rebbe.

פ”א סיפרו לפניו על איזה מעשה שאדמ”ור מרוזין זי”ע סיפר אותו פעם בסינגון זה ופעם בסיגנון אחר אמר על זה מרן אדמ”ור זי”ע שהסיפורי מעשיות שמספרים הצדיקים הוא לפי מה שצריך באותו שעה

This is an acknowledgment that the stories told by the rebbes are not really history, as they are designed to serve the needs of the present. As I think most people today realize, haredi “historical” writing in general is as much about the present as the past, and it is precisely because of this that authors feel it is legitimate to cover up or even alter the historical record in order to best serve the religious needs of the present.

Finally, a few people have asked about what I wrote on p. 244, that the strand of Jewish tradition that countenances falsehood “deserves to be understood in a sympathetic manner as well”. This does not mean that people need to agree with those who countenance falsehood, and I certainly do not. However, in writing an academic study as opposed to a polemic, it is important to recognize that approaches that today we might regard as unacceptable, were viewed very differently in other times and cultures (and for some, these “other times and cultures” continue into our own day). I am interested in understanding what leads people to diverge so dramatically from a value that I regard as important. In my book I did not set out to judge them, but in a sympathetic manner, i.e, with a sensitivity to their worldview, attempt to understand them. (When I used the word “sympathetic”, I did not mean that I approved of what I was describing, only that I was sensitive to the motivations behind the approach.) By the same token, when I see that great figures from earlier years have written troubling things about non-Jews or women, I also approach this in a sympathetic manner, understanding that for these people, living in a vastly different time and often suffering under terrible anti-Semitism, it made sense that they would express certain thoughts that today pretty much everyone regards as unacceptable. One need not be a complete historicist to acknowledge that all people are influenced by their era, for good and for bad. This is what I mean by understanding in a sympathetic manner.

Coming Soon: R. Ysoscher Katz and Modern Orthodox Halakhah; The Nineteenth- and Early Twentieth-Century Dispute Regarding the Historicity of the Hanukkah Miracle; R. Steinman and the Messianic Belief; R. Mazuz’s Short-Lived Entry into Politics; and a response to R. Aharon Lopiansky’s article in Dialogue.