Prof. Elliott Horowitz — Edmund Wilson, Hebrew, Christmas, and the Talmud

In a previous post at the Seforim blog, Prof. Elliott Horowitz of Bar Ilan University and co-editor of Jewish Quarterly Review, responded to a discussion of Bugs Bunny’s purported Jewish identity.

This is his second contribution to the Seforim blog. We hope that you enjoy.

Edmund Wilson, Hebrew, Christmas, and the Talmud
by Elliott Horowitz

As is well known, during the 1950’s Edmund Wilson, the great (and perhaps greatest) American man of letters, began studying Hebrew, both in order to read the Hebrew Bible on his own, and in order to write in an informed manner about the controversies surrounding the recently discovered Dead Sea Scrolls. As Shalom Goldman noted in his excellent chapter on Wilson in God’s Sacred Tongue: Hebrew and the American Imagination (Chapel Hill, 2004), Wilson “delighted in teasing his Jewish friends” about their having jettisoned their (usually limited) Hebraic learning while he was steadily increasing his. As an example, Goldman cites the Christmas card Wilson sent to Alfred Kazin in 1952, which included (in Hebrew) the words “I shall learn Hebrew,” followed by the Wilsonian barb: “I’ll bet you can’t read this.”

If one consults the card itself, reproduced in Edmund Wilson, Letters on Literature and Politics, 1912-1972 ed., Elena Wilson (New York, 1977), it may be seen that before the oddly vocalized words “elmod lashon yisrael,” Wilson added, in the same square script, the blessing “barukh ata la-shem” – probably the first time these words (with the actual tetragrammaton) were used in a Christmas greeting.

Readers of the Seforim blog may also be interested in a subsequent letter of Wilson’s to the Brooklyn-born Kazin, written from the New Yorker office in October 1954, shortly after the article on the Dead Sea Scrolls was completed.

“I am still struggling in the toils of the three thousand years of Jewish history. Once you get into it, you find there is no easy way of getting out again. Have you ever tried reading the talmud? It is a very strange work – difficult at first to get the hang of – but it exercises a certain fascination. I think that I may settle down to reading it through. There seems to be no other way of really finding out what is in it…” (Ibid., 528).

Of course, daf yomi tapes were not yet available…



Elliott Horowitz — “Between Hebron and Jerusalem”

In a previous post at the Seforim blog, Dan Rabinowitz offered his review of Elliott Horowitz (of Bar-Ilan University and co-editor of Jewish Quarterly Review), Reckless Rites: Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence (Princeton University Press, 2006) — available here — and this past shabbat at Kehilat Rayim Ahuvim on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, Horowitz delivered a lecture entitled “Was the Massacre at Mercaz Ha-Rav Committed by Amalekites?”

For those who missed this lecture (myself included), you can read his “Between Hebron and Jerusalem,” posted at JewSchool.com, and available here.




Tussle Over Horowitz’s Book

As I mentioned before, Elliott Horowitz wrote an excellent book on Purim and its connection with violence. But, as some are wont to do, instead of reading a book objectively they come into a book with all sorts of preconceived notions. This was typified by Hillel Halkin’s review of Horowitz’s book. In the June 2006 issue of Commentary Magazine, Halkin reviewed Horowitz’s book. I did not bother to mention this, solely because it was painfully obvious Halkin did not read the first half of the book, or chose to ignore it (as Horowitz points out in his response), and that Halkin was only interested in finding fault. Halkin takes issue with the very notion that Jews could be violent and thus can not believe (or address) most of Horwitz’s points. In fact, much of Horowitz’s thesis had already been published years ago in his articles on the topics. (Perhaps Halkin doesn’t read academic journals? Although he feels it fine to review an academic work).

Well in the October 2006 issue of Commentary Magazine, Elliott Horowitz responses as does Halkin. Halkin’s response, however, is so juvenile and void of content, he does more to undermine his position than anything Horowitz could have done. Halkin to buttress his position resorts to name calling and a general ad hominem attack. So, for example, Halkin starts by noting

As I stated in my review, Elliot Horowitz wrote an interesting but not entirely honest book. How he has written an uninteresting and thoroughly dishonest letter.

Setting aside Halkin’s vitriolics, Horowitz, as he is wont to do, uses the terrific image of the Godfather movies to prove his point. He notes that there is a distinction between the Godfather and Bonnie and Clyde, one which just has violence and the other which explores it. Horowitz, thus illuminates his purpose of exploring the sources and theological underpinnings of his thesis. [Now, there are not that many Jewish academics who cite to movies (or as he does in another of his articles compares the imagery in a haggadah to Bugs Bunny) so this somewhat is refreshing.] Halkin, of course, fails to note this (apparently he is not one for subtleties) and instead turns the movie quote into a childish retort of

If Horowitz wanted to write a Jewish version of The Godfather . . . he should have done a movie script.

Additionally, Halkin fails to address most of Horowitz’s most salient points. So, Halkin still ignores the entire first half of Howowitz’s book and fails to explain the rampent use of the term Amalek to this day. It is disappointing that Commentary publishes such drivel, but does demonstrate that one should not judge a book by its cover nor a review (or reviewer) by its inclusion in Commentary.

You can read the full exchange here for yourself until the end of October 2006.




Borders, Breasts, and Bibliography


Borders, Breasts, and Bibliography
By Elliott Horowitz
Dan Rabinowitz has provided us which a characteristically learned pre-Passover post on the Prague 1526 Haggadah, specifically concerning the illustrations on its borders, and from those borders continues on to the always contentious subject of breasts, a bare set (or rather, two bare sets) of which he claims may be found on the title page of that edition. Indeed, on both the right and left borders of the title page may be found rather curious figures with non-human faces but quite human- looking breasts; yet those breasts are not bare, but rather bound in form-fitting corsets from which the nipples peek out. Readers may search on their own, online or elsewhere, for images of such nipple -revealing bodices, which were popular in English masque costumes of the early seventeenth century,[1] but I will provide only a quotation from the celebrated English traveler Fynes Moryson (1566-1630) on the women of late sixteenth-century Venice who “weare gowns, leaving all of the neck and brest bare, and they are closed before with a lace….they show their naked breasts, and likewise their dugges, bound up and swelling with linnen, and all made white by art.”[2]
Here is the title page::

From the breasts on the borders of the Prague Haggadah’s title page Rabinowitz moves on to the less contentious pair to be found in the Haggadah itself, appropriately accompanying the quotation from Ezekiel 16. He charitably notes that “both Charles Wengrov and Elliot[t] Horowitz have pointed to earlier manuscript antecedents of Prague’s usage of such illustrations,” but then takes issue with “Hor[o]witz’s contention that Spanish Jews were less accepting of such displays.” To that end he presents, in living color, two panels from the so-called “Sarajevo Haggadah,” illustrated in fourteenth-century Spain, depicting “a bare-breasted Eve,” and another illustration from the “Golden Haggadah,” – of similar provenance – depicting female bathers in a scene of the finding of Moses.
Yet in all those instances the semi-nude women are shown either in profile with partially covered breasts, or with breasts of rather adolescent dimensions – in contrast to the more amply-bosomed maiden depicted frontally in the Prague Haggadah (and uncensored facsimiles thereof), but not in Rabinowitz’s otherwise amply illustrated post. Moreover, in contrast to the rather demure female figures in the late medieval Spanish haggadot, the “Prague Venus” (as I shall call her) gazes directly at the viewer – in a manner reminiscent of Titian’s “Venus of Urbino,” completed a dozen years after the 1526 Haggadah was published. It may be noted that two bare-breasted mermaids are frontally depicted on a bronze Hannukah lamp from sixteenth-century Italy in the Israel Museum’s Stieglitz collection.[3]
As far as the Prague Haggadah’s date, Rabinowitz (gently) chides me for taking Efrat’s Religious Council to task not only for deleting the semi-nude scene from the 2001 facsimile edition in honor of their settlement’s twentieth anniversary, but for giving the Haggadah’s date as 1527 rather than 1526. Rabinowitz justifies that error by noting that the (uncensored) Berlin facsimile – whose date he gives erroneously as 1925 rather than 1926 – gave the Haggadah’s date as “5287/1527.” This is indeed true of its frontispiece, but in my battered copy of the Berlin facsimile a previous owner helpfully left behind a double-side flyer for the Haggadah which includes the more accurate information: “GEDRUCKT ZU PRAAG, 5287/1526.”

In my modest collection of haggadot the Berlin facsimile of the Prague Haggadah sits next to an octavo-size paperback of that same Haggadah issued in 1965 by Israel’s Ministry of Housing. It’s frontispiece reads:
שי לחג הפסח מוגש ע”י מפעל החסכון לבנין
לחוסכים במפעלי החסכון
Although the date of the Haggadah is there too given erroneously as 1527, Israel’s Mapai-controlled Housing Ministry of 1965 saw no reason to make the same breast-related deletions as Efrat’s Religious Council thirty six years later – or perhaps did not yet have (or afford) the technical ability to do so. The minister of housing before Passover of  that year  was Yosef Almogi, who had  been general secretary of Mapai during the early 1960’s but joined Ben-Gurion’s renegade Rafi party before the November elections of 1965, after which he was  replaced by Levi Eshkol. The copy in my possession previously belonged to David Zakkai (1886-1978), who was briefly general secretary of the Histadrut before David Ben-Gurion assumed that position  in 1921, and after the founding of Davar in 1925 wrote for that newspaper for many years under the pen-name “Z. David.”  He won the Sokolov prize for journalism in 1956. Some three decades later many of the books previously in his possession were being sold off as duplicates by the library of Ben-Gurion University, which was named after yet another Mapai politician –  Zalman Aranne (1899-1970), who had also been general secretary of the party, and later served( twice) as  Israel’s secretary of education and culture.
The old days of Mapai dominance are well behind us, but so are the days when  Israel’s housing ministry could reprint a Haggadah showing bare breasts. As I write, the newly installed minister of housing is  Uri Ariel of the Jewish Home, whose predecessor was a member of Shas. Perhaps the additional funds that are now expected to come Efrat’s way will allow its Religious Council to put out another facsimile edition celebrating yet another expansion of that venerable settlement. My own suggestion is Ze’ev Raban’s illustrated Shir ha-Shirim, also suitable for Passover, but not yet available in a kosher edition. It will certainly keep their censorship committee busy.

[1] See recently Barbara Ravelhofer, The Early Stuart Masque: Dance, Costume, and Music (2009).
[2] F. Moryson, An Itinerary…(1617, reprint 1907-8), recently quoted in M. F. Rosenthal, “Cutting a Good Figure…,” in M. Feldman and B. Gordon eds. The Courtesan’s Arts: Cross-Cultural Perspectives (2006), 61. See there also illus. 2.2.
[3] For reproductions of the image see Chaya Benjamin ed., The Stieglitz Collection: Masterpieces of Jewish Art (1987), 157; Elliott Horowitz, “Families and their Fortunes: The Jews of Early Modern Italy,” in David Biale ed., Cultures of the Jews (2002), 578.  

Appendix by Dan Rabinowitz:

In addition to the censored reproductions discussed in the post and the one provided by Elliott Horowitz, we provide an additional example in this ever growing genre. One of the more well-known series that reproduce facsimile haggadot are those published on behalf of the Diskin Orphan Hospital Ward of Israel. As a fundraiser, they publish and distribute a different reprint of an earlier haggadah both print and manuscript. (See here discussing the Washington Haggadah reprint that led to accusation of heresy ). The first haggadah reprinted in this series is the Prague 1526. But, there are numerous errors and significant omissions in this reproduction. First the title, “The First Known Printed Passover Haggadah by Gershom Kohen Prague 5287/1527.” This edition of the haggadah is not the first known printed haggadah, that is likely circa 1486, by Soncino (see Yerushalmi, Haggadah & History, plates 2-3; Issakson, no. 29), and the first illustrated is the 1512 Latin. In the introduction written by Dr. Aaron Rosmarin, he offers that Prague 1526 is “the oldest printed Hagadah graced with woodcuts.” Again that is wrong. The 1486 haggadah already includes a handful of woodcuts.

Instead, at best, Prague 1526 is the first fully illustrated haggadah for a Jewish audience. The title also contains an error regarding the secular date, giving it at 1527. Rosmarin compounds this error. First he hedges on the secular year, when he explains that this editions was “printed by Gershom ben Shlomoh ha-Kohen and his brother Gronem in Prague 1526/27” but then zeros in on exactly when it “was completed on Sunday, the 26th of the month of Teves, 5287 (in January 1527).” It was December 30, 1526 and not some time in January 1527.

Additionally, regarding the nude image accompanying Ezekiel 16:7 that is omitted in its entirety. Although this omission (as well as a two other seeming non-offensive images) is not noted in the introduction, Rosmarin is careful to explain (without irony) that the 1526 edition contains some minor textual variants and omits the songs Ehad mi Yodeh and Had Gadyah, therefore this facsimile is not being reproduced to be used at the seder as “there are Hagadahs in abundance” for that purpose. Instead, the reason for reproducing Prague 1526 is because “this Hagadah is of great value for its art and uniqueness.”




Gelatin, Supposed Retractions, and Abraham Goldstein, Part 1

Gelatin, Supposed Retractions, and Abraham Goldstein, Part 1

Marc B. Shapiro

In my last post I quoted something from Mesorat Moshe and wondered whether R. Moshe Feinstein could have actually said that which is attributed to him. While the Mesorat Moshe series is quite valuable, whenever one deals with “table talk” there is always going to be the issue of how much authority do you give to such reports, especially compared with written texts of R. Moshe. Here is an example of what I am talking about.

In the new Mesorat Moshe, vol. 4, p. 191-192, R. Moshe Feinstein is asked why gelatin is forbidden, and he replies that it is because gelatin tastes good. Unfortunately, R. Moshe was given false information, as gelatin has no taste whatsoever. If this was all we had, then I think we could assume that R. Moshe should not be regarded as strict in this matter (since the strict ruling was based on an error). Yet in R. Moshe’s responsum forbidding gelatin, Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah 2, no. 23, there is no mention of gelatin having a taste, so clearly this was not an important consideration for him in coming to a stringent decision. In other words, one whose only source of information in this matter comes from Mesorat Moshe will be misled. (In Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah 2, no. 27, we see that R. Moshe did not know if gelatin has a taste.)

The gelatin issue has long been an interest of mine, both the halakhic and also the sociological angles. Those interested in how the gelatin controversy played out in the United States should examine Roger Horowitz’s wonderful book, Kosher USA. Chapter 3 is titled “The Great Jell-O Controversy”. The hashgachah on Jell-O was first given by Rabbis Samuel Baskin and Shimon Winograd. They later removed the hashgachah after being pressured by R. Eliezer Silver and other members of Agudas ha-Rabbonim. See R. Baskin and R. Winograd’s public statement here.

By the 1960s R. David Telsner was giving the hashgachah, and he was later joined by R. Yehuda Gershuni. (Incidentally, R. Telsner was the one who translated R. Soloveitchik’s Hamesh Derashot into Hebrew.) Here is a letter from 1975 in which these rabbis affirm that Jell-O is kosher.

Here is R. Telsner’s responsum permitting gelatin. This was printed by R. Telsner and distributed to those who wanted to know the basis for his permission. As far as I know, this responsum never appeared in any publication and it is not found on the internet.

When it comes to gelatin, there were great rabbis on both sides of the issue, and those who permitted it were able to point to the lenient position of R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski. Even among those rabbis who were lenient, there were disputes as to whether all gelatin is OK, including from pigskins, or only gelatin made from bones or hides of kosher animals. Not so well known is the report that R. Kook permitted gelatin.[1] Also of note is that in 1952 R. Simhah Elberg testified to the wide acceptance of gelatin in the Orthodox community:[2]

שכבר נתפשט היתר והותר ע”י גדולי וגאוני ארץ

R. Noah Sheinkopf has prepared the following list of poskim who permitted bovine gelatin. (I have not checked the sources.)

1) Rabbi Dovid Tzvi Hoffmann, Melamed L’Hoil, Y.D., #24 and #35 (By Inference)

2) Rabbi Mordechai Leib Winkler, Levushei Mordechai, Yoreh Deah Tineyna, #60

3) Rabbi Yehuda Leib Tzirelson, Lev Yehuda #39

4) Rabbi Ze’ev Bidnovitz, Divrei Ze’ev, vol. 18. #12

5) Rabbi Y.L. Graubart, Chavalim Baneimim, vol. 4. #23; (See also HaPardes, Aug. 1942, p. 19)

6) Rabbi Shmuel Pardes, Avnei Shmuel, Berurei Halacha, #19

7) Rabbi Yosef Konvitz, Divrei Yosef, vol. 1, p. 172

8) Rabbi Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski, Achiezer, vol. 3, #33, sec. 5; see also Avnei Shmuel, pp. 10-11

9) Rabbi Simcha Zelig Regeur (Brisker Dayan), printed in Kovetz Moriah, issue 400-402, p. 76-77

10) Rabbi Yitzchak Burstein, Mataamei Yitzchak, vol. 2, chap. 24-25

11) Rabbi Yosef Eliyahu Henkin, HaPardes, July 1952; Edus L’Yisrael, p. 177

12) Rabbi Yehuda Leib Seltzer, HaPardes, July 1952; Vezos L’Yehuda, O.C. #26

13) Rabbi Simcha Elberg, HaPardes, July 1952; HaPardes, October 1952 

14) Rabbi Nissen Telushkin (Chabad), Taharas HaMayim, vol. 1, chap. 54

15) Rabbi Nachum Weidenfeld, Chazon Nachum, #61

16) Rabbi Tzvi Pesach Frank, Har Tzvi, Y.D., #83

17) Rabbi Yechezkel Abramskyintroduction to Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 4; Chazon Yechezkel, Zevachim, Sh“ut #6

18) Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg, introduction to Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 4; Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 20, #33

19) Rabbi Koppel Kahana, Teshuva B’Inyan Gelatin, 1966 (By Inference)

20) Rabbi Moshe Nosson Nota Lemberger, Ateres Moshe, vol. 1, Y.D., # 42-43

21) Rabbi Yitzchak Glickman, Kol Torah, Shana 13, Choveret 4

22) Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, Kovetz Teshuvos, #73, sec. 3 (In terms of practical halakhah, for R. Elyashiv the crucial point is if some taste remains, but as long as it is rendered completely tasteless, then he identifies with the R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski’s lenient decision.)

23) Rabbi Ovadya Yosef, Yabia Omer, vol. 8, Y.D., #11

24) Rabbi Ben Tzion Abba Shaul, Ohr L’Tzion, vol. 5, #32, sec. 6 (By Inference)

25) Rabbi Shlomo Amar, Shema Shlomo, vol. 5, Y.D., #12

26) Rabbi Yechezkel Roth, Emek HaTeshuva, vol. 3, #67 (By Inference)

27) Rabbi Yisroel Yaakov Fisher, Even Yisroel, vol. 8, #56

28) Rabbi Yirmiyahu Menachem Kohen, V’Heirim Kohen, vol. 2, Y.D., #31; vol. 4, Y.D., #40

29) Rabbi Moshe Levi, Tefilla L“MosheY.D., #4

30) Rabbi Almog Levi, Avnay Levi, Y.D., #1

31) Rabbi Yitzchak Mekayis and Rabbi Yaakov Mekayis, Ohr HaHalacha, Kuntres #3

32) Rabbi Amit Chadad, Pri Eitz Chaim, p. 529

33) Rabbi Moshe Dan Sheinkopf, a Vice President of the Agudas HaRabbonim, who certified Kojel until the late 1970s.

To this list from R. Sheinkopf, we can add R. Yaakov Ariel, Be-Oholah shel Torah, vol. 5, pp. 76-77, R. Eliezer Melamed, Peninei Halakhah: Likutim 3, pp. 352-353, R. Shlomo Aviner (see here) and R. Yitzhak Abadi (as seen on learn.oheltorah.com and prior to this on the old site, kashrut.org). R. Abadi’s view is particularly interesting as his teacher, R. Aharon Kotler, was one of the major forces behind the general rejection of gelatin in the United States. It is also noteworthy that for a short time in the 1950s the OU also approved of gelatin.[3] R. Avraham Vilner, in an earlier post at the Seforim Blog here, provides evidence that the Hazon Ish felt that one could rely on R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski’s heter for gelatin.

כשאמרתי למו”ר [הרב שמריה שולמאן] שראיתי הרבה חולקים על פסקו של רבי חיים עוזר בענין הג’אלאטין, וגם אלו שבדרך כלל לא היו פוסקים נגדו כמו הרב אליעזר סיבלר, בזה פסקו אחרית ממנו, אמר לי שהראש ישיבה הרב רודערמאן זצ”ל אמר לו, שהחזון איש אמר שעל כל פסקי רבי חיים עוזר אפשר לסמוך בלי שום פקפוק, חוץ ממה שהתיר לשמש במוך היכא שהסיבה לשימוש במוך הוא מצד האיש, שבזה א”א לסמוך

Ironically, it was Conservative Rabbi Louis Ginzberg who was mahmir, writing with great certainty:

I am convinced that no rabbinical scholar who is in a position to comprehend a problem in chemistry would ever permit the use of gelatin. . . . The late Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinski was well known to me personally; as a matter of fact, his wife was a close relation to me, and I would certainly attach great weight to any decision by him on Jewish Law, but not in a case for which some knowledge of chemistry or physiology is necessary.[4]

On the other hand, Conservative Rabbi Isaac Klein, who was one of only three people to receive private semikhah from Ginzberg—the other two being Louis Finkelstein and Boaz Cohen—permitted gelatin.[5]

Returning to Mesorat Moshe and the problems with oral reports, I saw something relevant in R. Yehuda Spitz’s comprehensive new book, Food: A Halachic Analysis. The matter under discussion is whether one can use the same dishwasher for meat and milk utensils. R. Moshe has a number of responsa where he says that this is permissible as long as you have separate dish racks. His first responsum on the topic appears in Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim 1, no. 104, and is from early 1957. It is the second part of one of his famous responsa on bat mitzvah, and was sent to R. Baruch Aharon Poupka of Pittsburgh. (For some reason, the heading of the responsum only mentions bat mitzvah, not the dishwasher question). R. Moshe’s answer is short and to the point:

ובדבר הכלי החדשה [!] לרחץ את הכלים שנקרא בשם “דיש וואשער” אם יכולין לרחוץ שם כלי בשר וכלי חלב זה אחר זה. הנה צריך שמה שבתוכו שהוא על מה שמניחין הכלים, שיהיה לכלי בשר אחרים ולכלי חלב אחרים, ועצם הדיש וואשער שמשימין בתוכו הדבר שמניחין עליו הכלים שהוא רק הדפנות שסביבותם יכולין להשתמש בו לשניהם בזה אחר זה

This is a very simple reply, and it is not possible to misunderstand what R. Moshe is saying. R. Moshe later sent two other responsa where he explains his reason for requiring separate dish racks (Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah 2, nos. 28, 29). In the latter responsum, he mentions that different water should be used for the milk and meat washings. (In the earliest dishwashers you could use the same water more than once.) He states that he did not mention this point in the original responsum because in any event those who have a dishwasher change the water between cycles. He specifically tells us that he is referring to householders, not that anyone would have any doubt about this.

ובפרט שזמן גדול בהרבה שעות יש לכל בעהב מרחיצת כלי חלב עד רחיצת כלי בשר ולא ישאירו שם המים סרוחין זמן כזה

In this responsum, R. Moshe also recommends running an empty rinse cycle between milk and meat dishes. R. Moshe repeats his basic position in a couple of other responsa,[6] and a simple internet source will reveal that lots of people have discussed R. Moshe’s view and there is no room for misunderstanding.

R. Spitz, Food: A Halachic Analysis, p. 70, quotes someone who spoke to R. Moshe about his “dishwasher leniency.” According to this person, R. Moshe explained that everyone misunderstood what he wrote, and his view that one can use the same dishwasher with separate racks was only stated regardingcommercial dishwashers. However, when it comes to the home, one cannot use the same dishwasher, even with separate racks. Based on this report, R. Spitz writes, “If so, there is ample reason to be stringent, certainly lechatchilla, regarding using the same dishwasher for both milk and meat dishes.”

I have to say that testimony such as this has absolutely no halakhic significance. There is indeed reason to be stringent, based on the views of other poskim (and most people do not seem to follow R. Moshe’s heter of two dish racks). However, if all we had was this report, it would not lead us to ignore R. Moshe’s explicit position in his responsa.

We have many examples of such statements, where a posek supposedly said something privately that completely contradicts what he said in print. In such cases, one cannot rely on these supposed retractions or statements of clarification, except in very rare cases where the author makes his opinion widely known or the person reporting the retraction is a universally recognized Torah scholar[7] (although even in the latter case we cannot always rely on the scholar reporting the supposed retraction).[8] I have no way of knowing what the man R. Spitz quotes was told by R. Moshe. It could be that he completely misunderstood what R. Moshe said. It could also be that R. Moshe had a reason for telling this person what he did, as perhaps R. Moshe thought that this man should hold to a higher level. But it is simply incorrect to suggest that R. Moshe was not referring to a home dishwasher when all can see that he certainly was. R. Spitz himself, p. 71 n. 23, recognizes that R. Moshe was referring to home dishwashers. He also cites R. Baruch Moskowitz, Ve-Dibarta Bam, vol. 2, no. 244, that R. Dovid Feinstein also explained his father’s position as referring to home dishwashers. You can also listen to R. Shmuel Fuerst, a leading student of R. Moshe, explain the matter here.

Quite apart from my point just mentioned, that reports of private conversations that contradict a posek’s written opinion do not have halakhic significance, I must again stress the larger problem raised by books like Mesorat Moshe which is how much significance we should give to works that report oral teachings of great rabbis. Since we have so many examples of contradictory reports and incorrect statements in such texts, I think it is obvious that even such a wonderful work as Mesorat Moshe has to be used carefully, and in no way can it be seen as rising to the level of authority of what R. Moshe himself wrote.

Returning to the gelatin issue, Horowitz tells the story of Abraham Goldstein (1861-1944), who really should be given the title of originator of industrial hashgachot in the United States. Here is his picture.[9]

It was Goldstein who was behind the OU’s kosher certification program and who established the agreements with the early companies. He was also the OU’s “chemical expert,” yet as Horowitz notes, he has been completely erased from the OU’s institutional memory.[10]

In 1935 he broke with the OU and founded the OK Laboratories. This would be sold in 1969 to Rabbi Berel Levy, and would then become a universally recognized hashgachah. However, this was not the case when Goldstein was in charge, and it is when Goldstein founded the OK that the controversial period of his life begins. This was because Goldstein, who was not a rabbi and had no expertise in Jewish law, set out to determine what was kosher and what was not. He made it clear that in determining what was kosher, chemists (such as himself) were a more reliable source than rabbis, as the latter did not understand food technology and were mistakenly giving approval to non-kosher food items. Goldstein had a very simple approach to the matter: If a product had any non-kosher element in it, it was treif and forbidden to be eaten. The notions of bitul or that the non-kosher food had so changed its form were not considerations he paid any attention to.[11] He also did not rely on rabbis whom he felt were not careful in such matters. Thus, he refused to accept the hashgachot issued on Coke by R. Samuel Pardes, editor of Ha-Pardes, and later by R. Tuvia Geffen.[12]

As Horowitz notes, R. Geffen was not happy with R. Pardes’ hashgachah on Coke because the drink included 0.09 percent glycerin from a non-kosher source. This is a very tiny amount—less than 1 in 1000—which according to halakhah is batel, and thus of no halakhic significance. Yet there are some fundamental questions involved here. One is if the tiny amount of non-kosher is put in as part of production, rather than accidentally falling in, do we still say that it is batel? Most authorities assume yes, so from this angle R. Pardes would have been on firm ground to declare the drink kosher. However, there is another issue, and that is can you officially give a hashgachah to an item relying on bitul, especially when the company will then be advertising the product as kosher? This can certainly be seen as distasteful and perhaps even bringing us to a situation of ein mevatelin issur lekhathilah (as the kashrut organization is now involved with the company).

R. Geffen believed that Coke should not be given a hashgachah as long as the non-kosher glycerin was not replaced with a kosher alternative. In fact, as far as I can see, R. Pardes himself never argued that it is acceptable to rely on bitul in issuing a hashgachah, since he flatly declared—mistakenly it turns out—that there were no non-kosher ingredients in Coke (that is, he was not saying that the non-kosher ingredients were of no halakhic significance).[13]

Goldstein had nothing but contempt for the way the old-time rabbis went about issuing hashgachot, and R. Pardes’ hashgachah on Coke was just another illustration of this. In speaking of R. Pardes, Goldstein wrote that “such men undermine the very foundation of our religion” and “there is no room for such scoundrels in decent company.” To reiterate, this was not a dispute between two rabbis but rather a layperson with no yeshiva training declaring that a learned rabbi did not understand the basic laws of kashrut. As far as the rabbis were concerned, the chutzpah here was unbelievable, and this was doubled by the fact that Goldstein’s Kosher Food Guide, which included all sorts of important information about kosher food together with Goldstein’s attacks on various rabbis, had a circulation of 150,000.[14] Significantly, Goldstein refused the OU’s demand that his publication be reviewed by rabbinic scholars.[15] Goldstein believed that when it came to modern food technology, he should be the one telling the rabbis what was kosher, not the reverse.

As Horowitz describes, Goldstein ratcheted up his attacks on R. Pardes after the latter gave a hashgachah to Junket, a product that was used to make a custardlike desert but which contained rennet that came from calves that were not ritually slaughtered. R. Pardes also received the backing of the OU for both his Junket hashgachah and his hashgachah on gelatin. (In 1952, after R. Eliezer Silver’s expressed a stringent opinion regarding gelatin, the OU removed its endorsement.[16])

Here is an ad from Ha-Pardes, April 1938, for Junket, with R. Pardes’ hashgachah.

Here is an ad from Ha-Pardes, April 1943, for Carmel gelatin, with R. Pardes’ hashgachah.

Here is an ad from Ha-Pardes, April 1943, for Kojel gelatin, with R. Judah Leib Seltzer’s hashgachah.

In Goldstein’s opinion, the fact that the OU would support R. Pardes when it came to Junket—he was no longer alive when the OU approved of gelatin—only showed how low his former organization had fallen and how little it understood of food technology. For Goldstein, it was not only a sign of ignorance on the part of R. Pardes and the OU, as he also wondered if there was financial corruption involved. Addressing R. Pardes, Goldstein asked, “How much money has been paid for this false Hekhsher.” Turning to the OU, he asked if any them “participated in the division of this money.”[17] When it came to the issue of gelatin—which had great rabbis on both sides of the issue—Goldstein expressed his ire over Jello-O advertisements in the Jewish press, stating that these advertisements “are not only deplorable from a Jewish religious standpoint,” but were “an outrageous attempt to smuggle an absolutely trefa article into Jewish homes.”[18] He later repeated his warning regarding other brands of gelatin: “Neither Carmel, Emes, or Kojel gelatines can be used in Orthodox homes. They are trefa gelatines, despite the Rabbinical Heckshers.”[19] So here we have a layperson declaring that a product endorsed by leading American rabbis was “absolutely trefa.”

It was one thing for a rabbi who opposed the kashrut of gelatin to say such a thing, but to have a halakhically unlearned layperson setting himself up as the arbiter of what is, and is not, kosher was too much for the rabbinic leadership in the United States. Now it was no longer a question about the kashrut of Junket and gelatin—both of which R. Eliezer Silver himself would later reject—but respect due to talmidei hakhamim. As far as the rabbis were concerned, it simply was unacceptable for a layperson to establish himself as an authority when it came to kashrut. The most that he could do was supply information to the rabbis so they could make the proper halakhic decisions, but to publicly challenge the rabbis about their scientific facts and halakhic interpretations went over the line, and it was time for the rabbis to put Goldstein in his place. Here is the public statement issued by Agudas ha-Rabbonim and the Rabbinical Board of Greater N.Y.[20]

This is the English translation of the following Hebrew proclamation that appeared in Ha-Pardes, August 1939, p. 16.[21]

Almost ten years later it was Goldstein’s son, George, who was running the OK after the death of his father. He too was causing problems for R. Pardes. In Ha-Pardes, January 1948, p. 21, R. Pardes attacked the younger Goldstein, referring to him as הנער החצוף.

Despite the virtual herem on Abraham Goldstein, I agree with Horowitz[22] that at least to some extent Goldstein was posthumously vindicated. While the notion that a layperson could challenge learned rabbis in halakhic matters was never countenanced (and this is presumably the reason why Goldstein is completely absent from the OU’s institutional memory), Goldstein’s other point, that knowledge of chemistry and food technology is vital for kosher supervisors, has been accepted by all the mainstream hashgachot. Furthermore, despite the opposition of the rabbis to Goldstein’s OK, it remained a popular hashgachah with a wide following. In fact, until the mid-1950s, the OK supervised more products than the OU.[23]

One can only imagine Goldstein’s reaction had he heard of a pesak of the famed R. Ishmael ha-Kohen of Modena (1723-1811) in his Zera Emet, vol. 2, no. 48. The question is as follows:

נשאלתי מהו ליתן רפואה לחולה שאין בו סכנה חתיכות עגולים קטנים שקורין בוקונ”י בלע”ז מרוקחים בהרבה מינים ובכללם יש ג”כ עצם גולגלות אדם שרוף וכתות

R. Ishmael was asked about using a medicine for someone who was sick but not in serious danger. The issue was that the medicine contained pieces of a ground up human skull. This is what has been called “powdered skull,” and was a common medicine in the eighteenth century.[24] R. Ishmael permits one to consume this “medicine”.

A few centuries earlier, R. David Ibn Zimra was also asked about medicine that was made from flesh of non-Jewish dead bodies (מומ”יא — mummies).[25] R. Ibn Zimra focuses his responsum on the issue of benefiting from a dead body, since when it comes to eating the flesh, he sees no problem at all in this, as its form has been entirely changed:

איסור אכילה לא הוצרכת לשאול דודאי מותר באכילה שהרי נשתנה צורתו וחזר להיות עפר בעלמא וכ”ש ע”י סמים שהרי המומי”א היא בשר החנוטין שחונטין אותם בכמה מיני סמים כדי להעמיד צורתו וגופו וחזר להיות כעין זפת ואין בו איסור אכילה

For those interested in learning more about the subject of “corpse medicine”—which included much more than the skull—and if your stomach can handle it, I recommend Richard Sugg, Mummies, Cannibals and Vampires: The History of Corpse Medicine from the Renaissance to the Victorians (London and New York, 2016). What passed for medical cures in pre-modern times is shocking, and often downright disgusting.

As late as 1907, the Adeni Rabbi Samuel Yeshuah[26] discusses sick people who consume “mummy medicine,” what he refers to as

 רפואת ההבל שנתפשט בין העם . . . באמת המומיא הזו לא יועיל ולא יציל והיה כלא היה

I assume many readers will be shocked to learn that great poskim permitted what I have just described. Today, of course, it would turn our stomachs to even think about consuming part of a corpse, much like Goldstein was outraged that anyone could think that it is permissible to consume something from a non-kosher animal, even from a pig no less. Yet this revulsion does not arise from halakhah. Speaking personally, I can’t imagine that anyone I know would eat a piece of meat from a pile if he knew that a non-kosher piece had fallen into the group of kosher pieces, despite what the halakhah says; all the more so if a piece of pork fell into a kosher dish even if it was nullified by 60. Again, our revulsion has its origin in feelings that have little to do with pure halakhah. In fact, some authorities feel that to be strict in such cases is akin to heresy, as it is in practice (but not in theory) a denial of the halakhic principle of bitul.[27]

If I could have spoken to Goldstein, I would have tried to explain to him that the halakhic system does not work in accord with what has been called “da’at baalei batim,” and those who forbid gelatin also acknowledge that not everything from a non-kosher animal is forbidden. The gelatin dispute concerns the role of gelatin in the finished food product, not with the existence of non-kosher per se. Thus, even one who is strict in the matter of gelatin would not start screaming if he saw his son standing in right field chewing on his non-shechted leather baseball mitt.

To be continued

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My Torah in Motion trips are starting again. I am leading a group to Morocco in January, and there is a full line-up for next summer. You can see details here.

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I am currently doing a series of classes for Torah in Motion on R. Saul Lieberman. You can see them here on YouTube. Here are some pictures that were taken at the Jewish Theological Seminary minyan in Unterberg Auditorium on Hoshana Rabba 1971. (At this minyan there was separate seating but no mechitzah.) The pictures were taken by Joel Mandelbaum, son of R. Bernard Mandelbaum who held many positions at the Seminary, including serving as president from 1966-1973 under Chancellor Louis Finkelstein.

Here is Lieberman.

Here is Lieberman and Louis Finkelstein. Abraham Joshua Heschel is standing between them and Bernard Mandelbaum is on the far right.

In front of Lieberman, leading the procession, is Moshe Zucker. Behind Lieberman is Simon Greenberg.

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[1] See Ha-Pardes, August 1942, p. 19. It also states here that R. Shlomo Natan Kotler permitted gelatin.

[2] Ha-Pardes, October 1952, p. 31.

[3] See Horowitz, Kosher USA (New York, 2016), pp. 59-60.

[4] The Responsa of Professor Louis Ginzberg, ed. David Golinkin (New York and Jerusalem, 1996), p. 152.

[5] Responsa and Halakhic Studies (n.p., 1975), ch. 7.

[6] Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah 3, nos. 10, 11.

[7] For example, the Shulhan Arukh, Yoreh Deah 201:75, famously forbids heated mikvaot. (R. Karo cites the stringent view as יש מי שאוסר and he does not offer a lenient alternative). However, R. Eliezer ben Arha of Hebron (died 1691) reported that R. Karo abandoned this stringency and permitted the heating of a mikveh.

ואפילו בזמן הרב מוהרי”ק זלה”ה עשה מעשה נגד מה שפסק שחשש וכתב סברת האוסר, כי רבים מבני עליה הם המתירין, ועלייהו קא סמכינן

See She’elot u-Teshuvot Rabbenu Eliezer ben Arha (Jerusalem, 1978), no. 18, and see note 1 for the impact of this reported change in R. Karo’s position.

Another interesting phenomenon, which I will not discuss in this post, is when a posek refuses to put a leniency into writing. How authoritative is this posek’s oral ruling? A classic example of this is R. Moshe Feinstein’s opinion about turning off the flame of a gas stove on Yom Tov. In Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim I, no. 128, R. Moshe writes that he doesn’t wish to put his opinion in writing, but it is known that he permitted this.

[8] See e.g., here where I discuss the false claim that R. Ezekiel Landau retracted his view that sturgeon is kosher. For the claim that R. Joseph Hayyim retracted his permission to ride a bicycle on Shabbat where there is an eruv (Rav Pealim, vol. 1, Orah Hayyim, no. 25), see R. Ovadiah Hadaya, Yaskil Avdi, vol. 3, Orah Hayim, no. 12:5:4, vol. 5, Orah Hayyim, no. 40. For a rejection of this claim, see R. Ovadiah Yosef, Yabia Omer, vol. 9, Orah Hayyim, no. 108:189. See also here where R. Doniel Neustadt writes: “Several sources report that the Chafetz Chayim eventually changed his ruling and exempted cooked fruits served for dessert from a blessing; see Orchos Rabbeinu 66 and Vezos ha-Berachah, pg. 78. Others dispute that the Chafetz Chayim changed his ruling.” The forger Chaim Bloch, Ha-Maor, Dec. 1951, p. 7, who was himself opposed to the gelatin heter, claims to have discussed the matter with R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski. Not surprisingly, Bloch records that R. Grodzenski told him that he never actually gave a ruling on the question of gelatin. Rather, he was only stating that his opinion inclined in this direction. For a rejection of Bloch’s false testimony, see R. Samuel Baskin and R. Shimon Winograd in Ha-Maor, Aug. 1952, pp. 7-8. Here is some of what they write:

אם הגאון רח”ע באמת חזר מתשובתו ומהיתרו על תוצרת הנ”ל, איך לא הודיע זאת ברבים, כדי שלא יכשלו ח”ו ויסמכו על פסקו ותשובתו בשו”ת אחיעזר, ויעשו מעשה לכתחילה בדבר שלא נתן הגאון הנ”ל היתר מוחלט, ועוד אם הגאון רח”ע ז”ל דיבר עם הרב ח”ב בשנת תרצ”ה כאשר כותב בהירחון “המאור”, איך כתב הרב הגאון רח”ע ז”ל להרב הגאון ר’ יוסף קאנוויץ ז”ל בחודש אייר שנת תרצ”ו שנה או יותר לאחר שיחתו עם הרב ח”ב, שמסכים עמו על היתרו בדבר הכשר הז’לטין

[9] The picture is found here and comes from the Ezra and Monica Friedman collection.

[10] Kosher USA, p. 26.

[11] See Spitz, Food: A Halachic Analysis, p. 459: “Dr. Goldstein . . . publicly maintained that any food item whose origins lie in a non-kosher source may not be considered kosher, no matter how “changed” it may currently appear.”

[12] Horowitz, Kosher USA, pp. 33ff.

[13] See Adam Mintz, “Is Coca-Cola Kosher?” in Rafael Medoff, ed., Rav Chesed: Essays in Honor of Rabbi Dr. Haskel Lookstein (Jersey City, 2009), vol. 2, p. 80; Horowitz, Kosher USA, p. 36.

[14] Horowitz, Kosher USA, pp. 29, 37.

[15] Horowitz, Kosher USA, p. 41.

[16] Horowitz, Kosher USA, p. 64.

[17] Horowitz, Kosher USA, pp. 38, 41.

[18] Horowitz, Kosher USA, p. 50.

[19] Horowitz, Kosher USA, pp. 54-55. Kojel is no longer is made with problematic gelatin and is currently under the OU hashgachah.

[20] Document provided courtesy of the Israel Rosenberg Archive, The Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary, New York, NY, ARC 98, Box 6, Folder 23.

[21] This proclamation was reprinted in Ha-Pardes, October 1939, p. 29. For other attacks on Goldstein see Ha-Pardes, August 1942, p. 17; Ha-Mesilah, Adar 5702, p. 20, sections ב, ה.

[22] Horowitz, Kosher USA, p. 42.

[23] See here.

[24] See here.

[25] She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Radbaz, vol. 3, no. 548.

[26] Nahalat Yosef (Jerusalem, 1907), pp. 15a-b.

[27] For one discussion, see here.




Review of Reckless Rites

While it is a bit out of season, I wanted to review Elliott Horowitz’s new book Reckless Rites. In this book, subtitled “Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence,” everything is viewed through the prism of the violence inflicted by the Jews upon their enemies at the end of Esther.

While arguably, the violence at the end is only a minor part of the story for some that aspect has clouded everything about the Book of Esther and Purim. First Horowitz looks at how the Book was viewed by non-Jews. Some had a very negative view due to the Jewish revenge. They considered that motif, un-biblical (read non-Christian). Horowitz goes through each of the characters and how first non-Jews interpreted their actions. For instance, Mordechi was treated rather harshly by many of these commentators as was Esther due to her passivity. What is especially fascinating is how these non-Jewish understandings, at times, crept into Jewish thought as well. Thus, Horowitz documents Jews parroting these rather un-Jewish, at it were, interpretations.

Horowitz then tackles the overarching theme of Amalek and how this has been understood throughout history. Some hold there is no obligation of destroying Amalek today while others are willing to label any perceived enemy of Jews as deserving of the harsh consequences of Amalek. Some of these examples are rather disturbing.

After dealing with the Book of Esther specifically, Horowitz turns his focus to Jewish practice on Purim. Specifically, he deals with Jewish violence or violent acts on Purim directed at non-Jews. He provides a discussion of the stereotype of the “mild” (read the wimp) Jew including its origins and whether it is borne out by history. He then discusses numerous, diverse examples spanning from the 5th century until today of Jewish violence. Some is not physical violence, instead it is host desecration or general enmity of non-Jewish symbols while other, most recently Barukh Goldstein is physical violence in its worst form.

In an effort to play down some of these incidents, we have Jewish historians who decided to avoid discussion of such matters, or at times downplay their significance. However, in light of the many examples here, it is very difficult to ignore such examples. Horowitz is very convincing in the scope of this idea and how prevalent this is. It is especially telling when tracing and seeing how systematically Jews have decided to sweep under the rug these examples, it demonstrates that censorship is not limited to any one group and even amongst supposedly dispassionate scholars, they too can fall prey to their own biases.

The detail and research is amazing , Horowitz leaves no stone unturned. All in all, this book sheds new light of the story of Purim, the Book of Esther and Jewish history. It provides a new way of viewing the story of Esther and Jewish ideas towards violence.