Upcoming Kestenbaum Auction #51 – Alphonse Cassuto Collection Part 2.










As Rabbi Eliezer Brodt has recently noted in a post at the Seforim blog the advent of the sabbatical year has been blessed with a plethora of new books and pamphlets related to the laws of shemitah.
Prominent amongst these is a publication entitled Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz on Masechet Shevi’it, from the writings of the world renowned halachic authority, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (1910-1995), published by Zehav haAretz on the “eve of the shemitah year, 5768”.
The sefer (341 pages) is divided into two parts. The first part is arranged according to the order of Masechet Shevi’it and presented as a commentary on it. The second half is comprised of a series of chapters on a broad variety of halachic topics related to shemitah.
In the preface we are told that the editors received much support and encouragement from Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s sons, including Rabbi Shmuel Auerbach shlit”a. We also learn that much of the material in the sefer was never intended for publication by Rabbi Shlomo Zalman. [It was often written in note-form for his own perusal etc.] Nevertheless, given the enormous interest in the writings of Rabbi Auerbach, it was decided that these chiddushim should be edited and published. This feat was accomplished to the delight of the publishers and their intended audience.[1]
For the sake of producing a comprehensive work the publishers inform us that they have included segments of the author’s previously published works that relate to the Masechet Shevi’it and its halachot.
Indeed, the second half of the sefer, which consits of chiddushim on Rambam and halachic discussions pertaining to shemittah, appears to have been gleaned almost entirely from Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s earlier works, most particularly his Ma’adanei Eretz on the laws of shevi’it.
However the publication of this sefer raises two related bibliographical questions: (a) Rabbi Auerbach’s classic on Shevi’it, namely his celebrated Ma’adanei Eretz, published originally by the author himself in anticipation of the shemitah year 5704,[2] and republished with the blessing of the author in anticipation of the shemitah year 5733, has been out of print and unavailable for many years.[3] Why has this book not yet been re-published? (b) Why has only some, but not all of the material in the original Ma’adanei Eretz been reproduced in Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz?
I cannot offer a definitive answer to these questions. Yet it is possible that two features of the original work are the cause for these ‘omissions’.
Firstly, the original Ma’adanei Eretz dedicates much discussion to the ‘heter mechirah’ and its dynamics. Although Rabbi Auerbach clearly expresses a preference for the observance of shemitah without recourse to the heter mechirah, he does recognise the plausibility of the ‘heter mechirah’ and seeks to buttress this mechanism with halachic argumentation. Moreover, (as is evident from his introduction), Rabbi Auerbach’s defense of the ‘heter mechirah’ – which he considered to have been endorsed by ‘minhag yisroel’ – was one of the primary purposes of his work.[4]
In times bygone, this apect of Ma’adanei Eretz apparently presented no cause for concern, even amongst the most chareidi Jews. Rabbi Zelig Reuven Bengis (1864-1953), then Rosh Beth Din of the ultra-Orthodox Edah Chareidit in Jerusalem, was aware of Rabbi Auerbach’s ‘agenda’ (towards which he was not particularly sympathetic), yet this did not prevent him from writing a complimentary letter of approbation in honour of the author and the book.[5] The same is true for Rabbi Isser Zalman Meltzer, (1870-1953), then rosh yeshiva of the Etz Chaim yeshivah in Jeruslaem. Yet nowadays this is no longer the case. Some of Rabbi Auerbach’s biological and/or ‘spiritual’ heirs who completely deny the validity of the heter mechirah and/or its application in the contemporary social and economic climate, may be deeply embarrassed by the original Ma’adanei Eretz.
Secondly, Rabbi Auerbach refers with the most reverential terms to the late Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak haKohen Kook (1865-1935), and attributes much weight to his halakhic opinions.[6] In contradistinction to many other illustrious authorities to whom Rabbi Auerbach refers to as “ha-gaon . . . of blessed memory’ his appellation for Rav Kook includes the honorific “maran [ha-gaon ha-Rav Kook of blessed memory].”[7]
In today’s ultra-orthodox climate, in which Rav Kook has almost been written out of existence[8] [or worse still, ‘demonised’], it should come as no great surprise that some would like to disassociate the prestigious Rabbi Auerbach from one of his primary mentors.[9] Accordingly, it is only natural that they would endeavour to orchestrate matters in such a way that the original Ma’adanei Eretz (with its ‘offensive’ contents) fades into oblivion.[10]
An examination of the ‘privileged’ segments of the original Ma’adanei Eretz that have been ‘preserved’ in the Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz supports my thesis. Rav Kook, whose views and vision clearly inspired Rabbi Auerbach, has been wiped off the face of the map. Likewise the heter mechirah, a central feature of the original work, has, for all practical intents and purposes, become a non-issue in the new work.[11]
In a world in which honesty means little and history means even less, Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz has performed a successful face-saving tactic, for ‘what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve’! [12]
Notes:
[1] The publication of this sefer seems to be in partial overlap with “Minchat Shlomo – Chiddusim uViurim al HaShas” on Masechet Shevi’it which was published by Rabbi Auerbach’s sons in Jerusalem, 5761.
[3] A number of years ago I was fortunate enough to be able to find and purchase a somewhat worse for wear copy of Ma’adanei Eretz in a second hand seforim store in New York.
[5] ראה בהסכמת הגרר”ז בענגיס, בעל ‘לפלגות ראובן’, הנדפס בתחלת ספר ‘מעדני ארץ’ שכתב בתו”ד: “ויהי’ דברי אלה ליקר סהדותא על גודל ערך הספר ועל יקרת הגאון המחבר שליט”א. אבל חס לי להצטרף למסקנותיו גם להחמיר וכ”ש שלא להקל ובכונה רצוי’ סלקתי א”ע מלחוות דעה באלה הלכות למעשה”.
[6] גם בהקדמתו מסתייע הגרשז”א מזה שהרב אברהם יצחק הכהן קוק “נלחם מאד לחזוק ההיתר נגד הקמים עליו לבטלו, בחששו שבביטולו יחרב כל הישוב ח”ו וגם משום הוצאת לעז על הגאונים שהתירו שכבר פשטה ההלכה והמנהג כמותם”.
[7] ראה ‘מעדני ארץ’ סימן א אות ו: “ועיין גם בס’ משפט כהן למרן הגאון מוהרא”י הכהן קוק ז”ל שכתב בתשובה להגאון הרידב”ז ז”ל”; שם אות ז: “אולם בשנת תר”עיין סידר מרן הגרא”י הכהן קוק ז”ל את תיקון המכירה . . . “; שם אות טו: “ומשמטה רביעית היא שנת תר”עיין סודרו כל שטרי מכר ע”פ נוסחו של מרן הגאון מוהרא”י הכהן קוק ז”ל”.
[8] Thus, for example, the Sefer HaMafteiach in the Frankel edition of the Rambam does not include any references to the chiddushim of Rav Kook on the Mishneh Torah. Present day works on shemitah rarely include the contributions of Rav Kook (even with regard to matters unrelated to the heter mechirah). Needles to say, Rabbi Chaim Kanievski’s Derech Emunah on Rambam’s Sefer Zeraim (inc. Shemitah veYovel) does not refer to Shabbat HaAretz etc.
Rav Kook’s haskamah that was, in his heyday, often the crown of glory on many seforim is now viewed with derision by many, and has even been ‘removed’ from later editions of the same works (sometimes, apparently, by the author himself!).
[9] Recent explorations into Rav Kook’s (heretofore) esoteric thought may add to the evident anxiety that exists in certain circles regarding the relationship between Rav Kook and Rav Auerbach. [See Avinoam Rosenak, “Hidden Diaries and New Discoveries: the Life and Thought of Rabbi A.I. Kook,” Shofar: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Jewish Studies 25:3 (Spring 2007): 111-147. See also his review article, “Who’s Afraid of Secret Writings? Eight Files from the Manuscripts of Rabbi Kook,” Tarbiz 9:2 (2000): 257–291]. Most recently, see Yehudah Mirsky, “An Intellectual and Spiritual Biography of Rabbi Avraham Yitzhaq Ha-Cohen Kook from 1865 to 1904,” (PhD dissertation, Harvard University, 2007), esp. 450-485.
[10] In the course of time we may yet witness the birth of reports to the effect that Rabbi Auerbach (and/or: the Rabbis who gave their glowing haskamot) regretted ever having published (written approbations for) his Ma’adanei Eretz. Clearly Rabbi Auerbach’s regret will have to have been expressed ‘be-sof yamav’, since in 1972/5732 he was evidently still enthusiastic about the project.
[12] The purpose of this article was to explore one example of a particular trend in contemporary rabbinic censorship. It was not written in order to express a view on, or assess the virtues of, the heter mechirah or its proponents. [Whilst this is totally irrelevant (at least to the subject matter at hand), I will attempt to save the time of many potential speculators by putting on record that I personally do not rely on the heter mechirah. The Lubavitcher Rebbe zy”a, whose rulings I attempt to follow, was far from enthusiastic about the heter mechirah and encouraged all Jews to observe the shemitah without recourse to the heter mechirah].
When Rav Kook Was the Kana’i (Zealot) and His Opponent the Melits Yosher (Advocate)[1]
By Bezalel Naor

In 1891, there appeared in Warsaw an anonymous work[2] entitled Hevesh Pe’er,[3] whose sole objective was to clarify for the masses the proper place on the head to don the tefillah shel rosh or head-phylactery. According to halakhah, the tefillah must be placed no lower than the hairline and no higher than the soft spot on a baby’s head (i.e. the anterior fontanelle).[4] In ancient times, there were sectarian Jews who deliberately placed the tefillah on the forehead, as attested to by the Mishnah: “If one placed it [i.e. the tefillah] on his forehead, or on his hand, this is the way of sectarianism (minut).”[5] These Jews interpreted literally the verse, “You shall bind them for a sign upon your hand, and they shall be for frontlets between your eyes.”[6] Adherents to Rabbinic Judaism are punctilious about placing the hand-phylactery on the biceps of the forearm opposite the heart,[7] and the head-phylactery above the hairline. East European Jews who placed their phylacteries on the forehead did so not out of conviction, as the Sadducees of old, but rather out of sheer ignorance of the law. The slim book (all of 24 leaves or 48 pages) was thus an elaborate educational vehicle to educate the masses how to properly observe the law.[8]
According to the approbation to Hevesh Pe’er by Rabbi Elijah David Rabinowitz-Te’omim (ADeReT) of Ponevezh, the book was published [but not authored] by his former son-in-law (presently his brother’s son-in-law), Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook of Zeimel.[9]
Wares in hand, the young rabbi of Zeimel (aged twenty-six) assumed the role of an itinerant bookseller, travelling from town to town in Lithuania. Wherever he went, he preached concerning the importance of fulfilling the commandment of tefillin. Historically, there was precedent for a rabbi promoting that specific mitsvah. In the thirteenth century, Rabbi Jacob of Coucy (author of Sefer Mitsvot Gadol or SeMaG), circulating in the communities of France and Spain, was able to turn the tide and convince Jews, hitherto lax in their observance of the commandment, to don tefillin.[10] As for an author posing as an itinerant bookseller, Rav Kook’s older contemporary, Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan of Radin, had done exactly that, thus earning himself the sobriquet Hafets Hayyim, after the book by that name that he peddled. (Hafets Hayyim tackles the problem, halakhic and otherwise, of malicious gossip.)
It is recorded that Rav Kook’s sermons had such a positive influence upon his audience that the Rebbe of Slonim, Rabbi Shmuel Weinberg, offered to support him if he would devote himself fulltime to acting as a maggid or peripatetic preacher.[11]
One would never have imagined that this halakhic work would meet with any rabbinic opposition.[12] The point it makes that wearing the head-phylactery below the hairline on the forehead invalidates the performance of the commandment, seems rather clear-cut in the sources. (In fact, but a few years earlier, in 1884, Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan in his work Mishnah Berurah had advised wearing the phylactery higher on the head, at a remove from the hairline, just to be on the safe side.)[13]
However, five years later, Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz of Kraz (Lithuanian, Kražiai; Yiddish, Krozh)[14] devoted the very first of his collected responsa to pummeling the anonymous work Hevesh Pe’er.[15] Rabbi Turbowitz prefaces his remarks by saying: “The intention of this author [i.e. the author of Hevesh Pe’er] is for [the sake of] heaven, but nonetheless he has spoken shabbily of the people of the Lord. May the Lord forgive him. For Israel, ‘if they are not prophets, they are the children of prophets.’”[16] Rabbi Turbowitz goes on to argue that the commandment is invalidated only if the majority of the phylactery is placed below the hairline. If, on the other hand, the majority is situated above the hairline and only a minority below, then the halakhic principle of “rubo ke-khulo” (“the majority as the whole”) applies, and the commandment is fulfilled.[17] One of the rabbi’s supposed proofs is that one must recite the blessing once again only in a case where the entire phylactery or the majority thereof has slipped down, but if only a minority of the phylactery has been displaced, with the majority still within the prescribed area, one does not recite another blessing upon readjusting the phylactery.[18]
Rav Kook (now outed as the author of Hevesh Pe’er) responded to the onslaught of Tif’eret Ziv. His lengthy rejoinder, entitled “Kelil Tif’eret,” appeared in the periodical Torah mi-Zion (Jerusalem, 1900).
Rav Kook dismantles Rabbi Turbowitz’s supposed proof from the fact that another blessing is unwarranted as long as the majority of the phylactery is still in its proper place. Rav Kook reasons that we must distinguish between the essential commandment (“‘etsem ha-mitsvah”) and the action of the commandment (“ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah”). The fact that one does not recite an additional blessing does not necessarily mean that the commandment (“‘etsem ha-mitsvah”) is still being fulfilled. What it does imply, is that the action of the commandment (“ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah”) is ongoing. The blessing addresses renewed action (“ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah”). In a case where only a minority of the phylactery has been displaced, the action required to readjust it does not warrant a blessing. “And the Turei Zahav[19] holds that since in the entire Torah, ‘rubo ke-khulo,’[20] once most of the action has been nullified, the action as a whole is nullified, but if most of the action remains, even though the commandment has been nullified, still the action exists…”[21]
As is typical for Rav Kook, he signs himself, “Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook, servant to the servants of the Lord…Bausk.”[22]
Evidently, Rabbi Turbowitz was not one to take something lying down. He came back at Rav Kook with a stinging reply, integrated into Ziv Mishneh, his commentary to Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah.[23] There, in Hilkhot Tefillin (4:1), he maintains that since “rubo ke-khulo is a universal principle in the entire Torah”[24]—this applies to tefillin as well. He reiterates once again his proof from the TaZ, who ruled that the blessing is recited once again only in a scenario where the tefillin are totally displaced. He mentions the opinion of “one wise man” (“hakham ehad”) who wrote that even the slightest deviation disqualifies the mitsvah, and disagrees. According to Rabbi Turbowitz, lekhathilah (to begin with), the entire phylactery should be above the hairline with none of it extending down to the forehead, but be-di‘avad (ex post facto), if a minority of the phylactery is below the hairline, one has nonetheless fulfilled the commandment. And therefore, the anonymous sage was wrong to badmouth the masses, who are remiss in this respect, and their spiritual leaders, who look the other way and do not protest. “He spoke shabbily of the people of the Lord and will in the future be called to judgment!” After summing up rather concisely the position he took earlier in Tif’eret Ziv, Rabbi Turbowitz now lambastes Rav Kook for what he wrote in Torah mi-Zion (Jerusalem, 1900), no. 4, chap. 4, accusing Rav Kook of deliberately misquoting him.
In 1925, two disciples of Rav Kook, Rabbi Yitshak Arieli[25] and Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger,[26] reissued Hevesh Pe’er in Jerusalem with Rav Kook’s permission.[27] Appended to the work was Rav Kook’s rebuttal “Kelil Tif’eret.” (In addition, this edition was graced by the comments of Rav Kook’s deceased father-in-law, ADeReT, and of Rav Kook’s admirers in Jerusalem: Rabbis Tsevi Pesah Frank, Ya‘akov Moshe Harlap, and Yehiel Mikhel Tukachinsky. Finally, there are the substantial “Comments upon Comments” [“He‘arot le-He‘arot”] of the editor, Rabbi Yitshak Arieli.)[28]
In 1939, Rabbi Yosef Avigdor Kesler of Rockaway (Arverne to be precise)[29] published a second collection of his deceased father-in-law, Rabbi Ze’ev Turbowitz’s numerous responsa. Whereas the first collection of Tif’eret Ziv covered only Orah Hayyim, this collection covered all four sections of Shulhan ‘Arukh.[30] In addition, it contained a supplement (Kuntres Aharon) entitled “Mele’im Ziv.” In the supplement, Rabbi Kesler published a letter from ADeReT to Rabbi Turbowitz that turned up in the latter’s papers.
ADeReT’s letter is datelined “Monday, Vayyetse, 5657 [i.e. 1896].” In the letter, ADeReT gratefully acknowledges receipt of the recently published book Tif’eret Ziv. Regretting that he is unable to send monetary payment for the book because he is presently inundated with works of various authors, ADeReT nonetheless wishes to at least offer some comment on the contents of the book.[31]
Referring to the very first responsum in Tif’eret Ziv, ADeReT rejoices that Rabbi Turbowitz sought to advocate on behalf of the Jewish People regarding the commandment of tefillin. He is especially overjoyed that Rabbi Turbowicz was not cowed, but dared to differ. ADeReT holds up as role models Rabbi Zerahyah Halevi (Ba‘al ha-Ma’or) who critiqued Rabbi Isaac Alfasi (Rif), only to be attacked himself by Rabad of Posquières; Rabad of Posquières who critiqued Maimonides; et al. Since this is the “way of Torah” (darkah shel Torah), why should he harbor any resentment toward Rabbi Turbowitz for disagreeing with him?[32] (ADeReT, though not the author of Hevesh Pe’er, had wholeheartedly endorsed it.)
The sterling character of ADeReT is best summed up in these lines:
God forbid, I am not deluded to think that truth resides with me. I wholeheartedly acknowledge the truth. I have not a thousandth part of resentment towards one who differs with me. And the opposite, I love him with all my soul when he points out to me the truth.[33]
Since Rabbi Turbowitz acted as a true talmid hakham (Torah scholar) who uninhibitedly speaks truth, ADeReT wonders why he failed to mention the name of the work he critiqued, Hevesh Pe’er. This would have provoked neither the author nor ADeReT.[34]
In this vein of truth-seeking, ADeReT proceeds to explain why the argument presented in Tif’eret Ziv failed to dissuade him from the position adopted both by him and the author of Hevesh Pe’er. Since the shi’ur or measurement of the area on the head where the phylactery is to be placed is Halakhah le-Moshe mi-Sinai (a law to Moses from Sinai), the principle of “rubo ke-kulo” is of no consequence in this regard.[35]
Realizing the historic importance of the contents of the letter, Rabbi Kesler provided a photograph of the crucial passage in the letter, which reads as follows:
About two years ago, the thought occurred to me to reprint the booklet Hevesh Pe’er. I wrote to its author, my son-in-law, my soul-friend (today the Rabbi of Bausk, may he live) and asked him if he has anything new to add to it. He wrote me an article, brief in quantity but great in quality, that it is possible to say ‘rubo ke-khulo.’ In the summer of 5655 [i.e. 1895] when I was in Warsaw, I already spoke with a printer and also notified the [government] censor, and I was thinking to print. But after this, I reversed myself, and the two of us [i.e. ADeReT and Rav Kook] agreed that it is not worthwhile to print leniencies (kulot) in this.[36]

ADeReT explains that if we show any leniency, it will prove a slippery slope. He reveals to Rabbi Turbowitz his unusual experience with Hasidim in particular: “From this, there came about in places where the Hasidim reside [the custom] to wear large tefillin.[37] Not one in a thousand bears most of the tefillah within the hairline. In most cases, but a small fraction (mi‘uta de-mi‘uta) [is within the hairline]. I have seen with my own eyes the entirety upon the forehead. They laughed at my rebuke, saying: ‘Thus is the mitsvah.’ ‘So we saw our fathers doing.’ etc. etc.”[38]
The letter concludes with this salutation:
His friend who is honored by his love, appreciates his genius and his Torah, and blesses him with all good,
Elijah David Rabinowitz Te’omim
…Mir[39]
[1] These are the exact words of Rabbi Joseph Avigdor Kesler in the introduction to his father-in-law Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz’s work of responsa, Tif’eret Ziv (Brooklyn: Moinester Publishing Company, 1939), p. 7, par. 5.
By the time of his passing in 1935, Rav Kook would be immortalized as a twentieth-century Rabbi Levi Isaac of Berdichev, the great advocate of the Jewish People, forever defending their practices in the heavenly tribunal. Today, Rav Kook is famous for his leniency concerning the Shemitah or Sabbatical year, the heter mekhirah, which allows sale of the land to a non-Jew for the duration, whereby agriculture, or at least some forms thereof, may take place. The model for this contract is the prevalent mekhirat hamets or sale of leaven to a non-Jew before Passover, so that it need not be removed from the home of the Jew.
However, in general, if one studies the teshuvot (responsa) of Rav Kook, he does not come across as extraordinarily lenient in his pesakim or halakhic decisions. Par contre, someone whose work is chock-full of startling leniencies is Rabbi Aryeh Tsevi Fromer of Kozhiglov (1884-1943), Rosh Yeshivah of Yeshivat Hakhmei Lublin and a disciple of Rabbi Abraham Bornstein (author of responsa Avnei Nezer). Rabbi Fromer designed his work of responsa, Erets Tsevi (Lublin, 1938), to be melamed zekhut, to find some halakhic justification (however farfetched) for certain otherwise anomalous practices within the Jewish community. This is apparent from the very first responsum, where the author attempts to justify the prevalent practice of wearing a tallit katan that fails to meet the prescribed shi‘ur or measurement.
[2] The title page credits as author: “KDY (Kohen Da‘ato Yafah).” The expression “kohen she-da‘ato yafah” comes out of the Mishnah, ‘Avodah Zarah 2:5. Thus, the title alludes to the author being a Kohen or member of the priestly caste.
The thought occurs to this writer (BN) that “Yafah” might be an allusion to Rav Kook’s descent from Rabbi Mordechai Yaffe (author of the Levush[im]). Rav Kook was immensely proud of his pedigree which reached back to the Levush. The pedigree to the Levush was something that Rav Kook had in common with his father-in-law ADeReT. In the letter written by Rav Kook’s paternal great-uncle, Rabbi Mordechai Gimpel Yaffe of Rozhinoy, to the Trisker Maggid, Rabbi Abraham Twersky, Rabbi Yaffe mentions their remote common ancestor, the Levush.
[3] The title is taken from the verse in Ezekiel 24:17: “Pe’erkha havosh ‘alekha” (“Bind your head-tire upon you”). The Rabbis interpreted the head-tire as a reference to the head-tefillah; see b. Mo‘ed Katan 15a.
[4] y. ‘Eruvin 10:1; b. Menahot 37a; Maimonides, MT, Hil. Tefillin 4:1; Rabbi Joseph Karo, Shulhan ‘Arukh, Orah Hayyim 27:9.
[5] m. Megillah 4:8.
[6] Deuteronomy 6:8.
[7] Shulhan ‘Arukh, Orah Hayyim 27:1.
[8] In Hevesh Pe’er, chap. 2, the author points out that there already appeared in print a small booklet with diagrams, “Tikkun ‘Olam ‘im tsiyurim,” but writes that the error persists depite that.
[9] Rav Kook’s first wife, Alta Batsheva, daughter of ADeReT, died at a young age, leaving him to raise their infant daughter, Freida Hannah. ADeReT suggested to Rav Kook that he marry Reiza Rivkah, ADeReT’s niece, daughter of his deceased twin brother, Tsevi Yehudah, Rabbi of Ragola. ADeReT had raised Reiza Rivkah in his home after her father’s death.
[10] Rabbi Jacob of Coucy, Sefer Mitsvot Gadol, positive commandment 3; Hevesh Pe’er, chap. 2. At the end of positive commandment 3, Rabbi Jacob gives the exact year of his campaign in Spain: 4996 anno mundi or 1236 C.E.
Urbach writes that this role of the itinerant preacher, or darshan, is without precedent among the French Tosafists; he conjectures that in this respect, Rabbi Moses of Coucy came under the influence of Hasidei Ashkenaz. See E.E. Urbach, Ba‘alei ha-Tosafot (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1995), pp. 466-470. Concerning specifically French Jewry’s laxity when it came to observing the commandment of tefillin, see ibid. p. 469, n. 13 (citing Tosafot, Shabbat 49a, s.v. ke-Elisha Ba‘al Kenafayim, and Rosh Hashanah 17a, s.v. karkafta de-lo manah tefillin). The SeMaG refutes Rabbenu Tam’s understanding of “karkafta de-lo manah tefillin.”
[11] Rabbi Ya‘akov Moshe Harlap, quoted in Rabbi Moshe Tsevi Neriyah, Sihot ha-Rayah (Tel-Aviv, 1979), p. 191, and idem, Tal ha-Re’iyah (Tel-Aviv, 1993), p. 116. According to Rabbi Harlap, the Slonimer Rebbe reached out to ADeReT, hoping that he could prevail upon his former son-in-law (and present nephew by marriage) to accept this magnaminous offer.
[12] Rav Kook’s erstwhile mentor in the Volozhin Yeshivah, Rabbi Naphtali Tsevi Yehudah Berlin (NeTsIV), was so enamored of Hevesh Pe’er that he kept it in his tallit bag. See the Introduction of Rabbis Yitshak Arieli and Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger to the Jerusalem 1925 edition of Hevesh Pe’er, p. 2.
[13] See Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan, Mishnah Berurah (Warsaw, 1884) to OH 27:9. In the Be’ur Halakhah, Rabbi Kagan sought support for this prescription in the manuscript glosses of “the Gaon Rabbi El‘azar Harlap” to Ma‘aseh Rav (a collection of the practices of the Vilna Gaon). If I am not mistaken, these notes would have been penned by the Gaon (and Mekubal) Rabbi Ephraim Eliezer Tsevi Harlap of Mezritch.
[14] Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz was born Rosh Hodesh Iyar, 1840 in Baboina near Kletsk and was known in his youth as the “Ilui of Baboina.” His first wife was from Izilian. After his marriage, he devoted himself exclusively to study of Torah, whereby he was then known as the “Porush of Izilian.” At a tender age he began to study Kabbalah. (Among his writings was found a work on Zohar.) In 1863, he was appointed as a rosh metivta in Minsk. In 1866, he received his first rabbinical position in Swislowitz. In 1875, he assumed the rabbinate of Kletsk. Afterward, he served a stint in Wolpa. And finally in 1889, he was elected rabbi of Kraz, where he served until his death on the 14th of Kislev, 5682 [i.e. 1921]. These biographical details were gleaned from his son-in-law Rabbi Yosef Kesler’s introduction to the Brooklyn 1939 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, p. 4.
Rabbi Eitam Henkin hy”d wrote of the interface between Rabbi Turbowitz and Rabbi Eliyahu Goldberg, mentor of Rabbi Yehiel Mikhel Epstein (author of ‘Arukh ha-Shulhan). Besides corresponding with Rabbi Goldberg in halakhic matters, Rabbi Turbowitz delivered a moving hesped (eulogy) for Rabbi Goldberg in 1875 in the town of Kletsk, Rabbi Goldberg’s birthplace. See Rabbi Eitam Henkin, Ta‘arokh Lefanai Shulhan (Israel: Maggid, 2018), pp. 359-360, 363.
[15] See Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz, Tif‘eret Ziv (Warsaw, 1896), no. 1. Ziv is an acronym for Ze’ev Yekhuneh Volf.
The responsum is datelined “Wednesday, 16 Tamuz, 5651 [1891],” which means that it was penned the same year that Hevesh Pe’er was published. Rabbi Turbowitz does not mention the book by name, referring to it as “a new book that has appeared” (“sefer ehad hadash she-yatsa la-’or”).
By the same token, in responsum 12 of Tif’eret Ziv, where Rabbi Turbowitz engages with another early work of Rav Kook (in fact, his first), ‘Ittur Soferim, he refers to that work obliquely as “sefer ehad katan” (“a small book”). Rabbi Abraham Joshua of Pokroi had raised the question whether one who becomes bar mitsvah at night must recite once again the blessing for studying Torah (birkat ha-Torah), though he already recited it that morning. The editor, Rav Kook, devoted a few pages to resolving this problem. See ‘Ittur Soferim, Part Two (Vilna, 1888), 9a-10b. Rabbi Turbowitz made short shrift of the question. At the same time, he tackled the Vilna dayan, Rabbi Shelomo Hakohen, who had also raised the question in his work, Binyan Shelomo. In the Brooklyn 1939 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, the first two responsa are to Rabbi Shelomo Hakohen, who had defended his position to Rabbi Turbowitz.
According to Rabbi Turbowitz’s son-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Avigdor Kesler, the famous “Gadol of Minsk” (i.e. Rabbi Yeruham Yehudah Perlman) read Rabbi Turbowitz’s responsum concerning the placement of the head-phylactery before it went to print and approved its contents. See the supplement to the Brooklyn 1939 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, Kuntres Aharon, “Mele’im Ziv,” 2d-3a, footnote.
[16] Tif’eret Ziv, 6a. The quote is from b. Pesahim 66b: “Leave Israel alone! If they are not prophets, they are the children of prophets.” Rabbi Turbowitz’s remark is quoted in Yehudah Mirsky, Rav Kook: Mystic in a Time of Revolution (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014), p. 23.
[17] Tif’eret Ziv 1:3 (6c).
[18] Tif’eret Ziv 1:16-21 (8c-9b). See Rabbi David Halevi (TaZ), Magen David to OH 8:15; cited in Mishnah Berurah to OH 25:12.
[19] See previous note.
[20] It may strike the reader as ironic that Rav Kook introduced at this point in the discussion the concept of rubo ke-khulo when he had earlier rejected its application. But from Rav Kook’s standpoint (and that of his father-in-law Aderet, see below note 35), that principle simply could not be applied to the area of the phylactery with its precise dimensions. “Shi‘urim halakhah le-Moshe mi-Sinai,” “Measurements are a law to Moses from Sinai” (y. Pe’ah 1:1, Hagigah 1:2; b. ‘Eruvin 4a, Yoma 80a, Sukkah 5b).
[21] Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook, “Kelil Tif’eret” in Hevesh Pe’er, ed. Rabbis Y. Arieli and Uri Segal-Hamburger (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1985), p. 46. Of course, the element of hesah ha-da‘at, i.e. whether one has “removed one’s awareness,” plays a crucial part in determining whether one must recite the blessing on the tefillin once again. See ibid.
Rav Kook’s hiluk (differentiation) between “‘etsem ha-mitsvah” and “ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah” (especially the terminology) is somewhat remarkable, issuing as it did from the pen of Rav Kook, who studiously avoided the school of Hasbarah with its abstract constructs and neologisms, then in vogue in the Lithuanian yeshivah world. The most famous proponent of Hasbarah was Rabbi Hayyim Soloveitchik (who would one day inherit his father Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik’s rabbinate in Brisk, whereupon he would be known as “Reb Hayyim Brisker”). The latter’s methodology of Talmudic analysis came to be known as the “Brisker derekh [ha-limud],” “the Brisker way.”
Rav Kook’s biographers have duly noted that his first mentor back in Dvinsk (since Rav Kook’s bar mitsvah), Rabbi Reuven Halevi Levin (known as “Reb Ruvaleh Denaburger”) had, so to speak, “immunized” Rav Kook against the trend of “sevarot” or newfangled “concepts.” Rabbi Reuven Levin was highly suspicious of sevarot that had not been enuciated already by the rishonim, the medieval authorities. (See Rabbi Kesler’s introduction to Tiferet Ziv, Brooklyn 1939, p. 8, par. 9, quoting Rabbi Reuven Levin, and ibid. sec. Hoshen Mishpat, responsum 46:6 [116c]: “It is not my way to say sevarot of my own cognizance.”)
And thus, when later Avraham Yitshak Kook arrived at Volozhin, “the mother of yeshivot,” he gravitated to the elder Rosh Yeshivah, Rabbi Naphtali Tsevi Yehudah Berlin (NeTsIV), known as a pashtan, a champion of the simple understanding of the text, rather than to his grandson-in-law, Rabbi Hayyim Soloveitchik, who was surrounded by budding scholars attracted to the exciting new method of Talmudic analysis that he was developing.
Although Rav Kook was never so outspoken as Ridbaz Wilovsky (“Reb Yankel Dovid Slutsker”) who satirized the new method as “chemistry,” Rav Kook was clearly on the other side of the great divide between Lithuanian Talmudists. This aversion of Rav Kook to the method of “hasbarah” was given eloquent testimony in recently unearthed correspondence concerning the unsuccessful attempt of Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop (a rosh yeshivah in Telz and later head of his own yeshivah in Grodna) to be accepted as Rosh Yeshivah of Merkaz Harav in Jerusalem. Speaking in Rav Kook’s name, his devoted disciple Rabbi Ya‘akov Moshe Harlap conveyed to Rabbi Hizkiyahu Yosef Mishkovski of Krinik (who had interceded on Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop’s behalf) the following laconic response:
Regarding the proposal concerning the Gaon Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop, may he live, to accept him as Rosh Yeshivah of Merkaz Harav, there is certainly nothing to discuss, for since the founding of the Yeshivah, this position is reserved for Maran [our master, i.e. Rav Kook], may he live, who plans to fill it himself. For Maran, may he live, wishes—and this is a strong desire—that the main method of learning of the Yeshivah be according to the order and method of the Gra [i.e. the Gaon Rabbi Elijah of Vilna], of blessed memory. Though he [i.e. Rav Kook] knows and feels also the great necessity of developing the methods of “hasbarot” (conceptualizations) and “havanot hegyoniyot” (logical understandings), he wants the main spirit of the Yeshivah to be based on his method, etc. Today I showed Maran, may he live, his honor’s letter, and what I wrote here is his response.
Rabbi Harlap’s letter is datelined “Monday, 2nd day of Rosh Hodesh Adar, 5686 [i.e. 1926], Jerusalem.” It was published in a Festschrift for his grandson, Rabbi Zevulun Charlop, Zeved Tov, ed. Ari S. Zahtz (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2008), p. 103.
Inter alia, “Z. Wein” mentioned in the letter from Rabbi Shkop to Rabbi Tobolsky, expressing his desire to settle in the Holy Land (ibid. p. 101), is none other than [Rabbi] Ze’ev Wein a”h, father of Rabbi Berel Wein shelit”a. Rabbi Ze’ev Wein (1906-2004), a disciple of Rabbi Shkop, went on to study in Rav Kook’s Merkaz Harav in Jerusalem. He served for many years as a distinguished rabbi in Chicago.
Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop was famous for his method of “higayon” (logic), displayed in his magnum opus, Sha‘arei Yosher. (Rabbi Hershel Shachter shelit”a revealed to this writer [BN] that his father-in-law, Rabbi Yeshayah Shapiro, a rosh yeshivah at Torah Vodaath in Brooklyn, was instrumental in writing that work.)
This is not the place to discuss in any depth the differences between Rabbi Shim’on Shkop’s method and that of Rabbi Hayyim Brisker and his heirs. Two anecdotes should suffice. The Briskers quipped that Rabbi Shim‘on “had looked at the world and created the Torah” (“Istakel be-‘alma u-vara ’oraita”), a reversal of the Zohar’s adage, “[God] looked at the Torah and created the world” (“istakel be-’oraita u-vara ‘alma”). On one occasion, Rabbi Yitshak Ze’ev Soloveitchik (“Reb Velvel,” known as the “Brisker Rov,” for he inherited from his father Rabbi Hayyim the rabbinate of Brisk) met Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop and told him: “I removed from your student Rabbi Leib Malin the last sinew (gid) left from your teaching.” (The imagery is that of deveining or nikkur. Reb Velvel used the Yiddish verb, “treiberen.”) Both anecdotes were heard from Rabbi Shelomo Fisher shelit”a of Jerusalem.
[22] In 1895, Rav Kook left the town of Zeimel for the large city of Bausk, Latvia.
[23] Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz, Ziv Mishneh (Warsaw, 1904). The author has the rather unique distinction of viewing Maimonides as a kabbalist and finding kabalistic “sources” for his rulings. (Similarly, the introduction to the Warsaw 1896 edition of Tif’eret Ziv demonstrates the author’s proficiency in Lurianic kabbalah.) Though not unique in this respect, Rabbi Turbowitz is perhaps the most outspoken proponent of this peculiar methodology of studying Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah. Another Maimonidean commentator who occasionally resorts to this method of sourcing is Rabbi Joseph Rosen (the Rogatchover Gaon). See his Tsafnat Pa‘neah, Hil. ‘Avodah Zarah 12:6. Nowadays, Rabbi Hayyim Kanievsky’s Kiryat Melekh is replete with references to Zohar.
[24] b. Horayot 3b; and Rashi, Zevahim 26a, s.v. hikhnis rosho ve-rubo. Both are referenced by Rabbi Turbowitz.
[25] Rabbi Yitshak Arieli was one of the founders of Yeshivat Merkaz Harav and acted in the official capacity of “Mashgiah” of the Yeshivah. He is most famous for his work on the Talmud, ‘Eynayim le-Mishpat. Recently, Aharon Ilan, a great-grandson of Rabbi Yitshak Arieli, brought out his biography, ‘Eynei Yitshak (Jerusalem, 2018).
[26] Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger was a descendant of Rabbi Moshe Yehudah Segal Hamburger of Novemeste (a disciple of the Hatam Sofer) who came to Erets Yisrael in 1857. Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger resided in the Old City of Jerusalem until its conquest by the Jordanians in 1948. He penned a memoir of that tragic event, “Be-Tseiti mi-Yerushalayim.” One may find a short biography and a photograph of Rabbi Hamburger in ‘Eynei Yitshak, pp. 136-137.
[27] Rav Kook’s biographer and disciple, Rabbi Moshe Tsevi Neriyah, records that Rav Kook wrote in his haskamah (letter of approbation) to the publishers the following disclaimer: “In our holy land, which thank God, is full of Torah and fear of heaven, the admonition (azharah) is not so necessary. Nevertheless, I have not prevented re-issuing the book, for the benefit of our brothers in the diaspora, in areas where the matter is yet in need of correction” (Sihot ha-Rayah, pp. 189-190). This disclaimer does not appear in the printed version of the haskamah. Where did Rabbi Neriyah obtain it? The mystery was cleared up in the new edition of Sihot ha-Rayah (2015) published after Rabbi Neriyah’s passing. Rabbi Arieli’s son, Prof. Nahum Arieli, wrote to Rabbi Neriyah that he has in his possession much material that went into the making of the Jerusalem edition of Hevesh Pe’er edited by his father, including a “petek” (note) with those exact words. Rabbi Neriyah’s daughter, Tsilah Bar-Eli, granted Aharon Ilan permission to include a facsimile of Nahum Arieli’s letter to her father (on stationery of Bar-Ilan University) in the biography of Rabbi Arieli, ‘Eynei Yitshak, p. 139.
[28] Rabbi Arieli’s promised “Kuntres Aharon” was never published. Remnants of the manuscript are in the possession of his heirs. Rabbi Neriyah speculated that financial considerations prevented its publication in Hevesh Pe’er. See ‘Eynei Yitshak, p. 138, n. 102.
[29] On the inside of the book, Rabbi J. Kesler’s address is given as: “146 Beach 74th Street, A[r]verne, Long Island.”
[30] It is important to note that the two collections do not overlap. The responsa on Orah Hayyim that appeared in the Warsaw 1896 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, were not included in the Brooklyn 1939 edition. In their stead, appear more recent responsa on Orah Hayyim. In terms of sheer quantity, the second collection by far outstrips the first. The first Warsaw edition has 122 pages; the second Brooklyn edition, 488 pages.
[31] “Mele’im Ziv,” 2a-b.
[32] “Mele’im Ziv,” 2b-2c.
[33] “Mele’im Ziv,” 2d.
[34] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3a.
[35] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3a-b.
[36] The facsimile occurs in Rabbi Kesler’s introduction to the book on p. 7. It is transcribed in “Mele’im Ziv,” 3b.
If not for the evidence of the facsimile, it would indeed be difficult to accept that Rav Kook once entertained even the remote possibility of invoking the principle of rubo ke-khulo in this regard.
[37] To this day, Lubavitcher Hasidim wear very large tefillin.
[38] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3b-c.
[39] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3d.
In 1893, ADeReT left the community of Ponevezh to assume the rabbinate of Mir.
Rabbi Helfgot is Chair of the Dept. of Torah SheBaal Peh at SAR High School and rabbi of Congregation Netivot Shalom in Teaneck, NJ. He has served as editor of Or-Hamizrach and associate editor of The Meorot Journal. He has written and edited a number of sefarim and volumes including Divrei Berakha U-Moed: Iyunim Be-Nosei Berakhot U-Moadim (Yeshivat Har Etzion, 2002), Community, Covenant and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (Toras HoRav Foundation, 2005), The YCT Rabbinical School Companion to Sefer Shmuel (Ben-Yehuda Press, 2006), Mikra and Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its Interpretation (Maggid Publishers, 2012), Al Saf Ha-Aretz (Maggid Publishers, 2014)
The Date of the Exodus: A Guide to the Orthodox Perplexed [1] by Mitchell First
The Exodus is arguably the fundamental event of our religion. The Sabbath is premised upon it, as are many of the other commandments and holidays. Yet if one would ask a typical observant Jew “in what century did this Exodus occur?,” most would respond with a puzzled look. The purpose of this article is to rectify this situation. Admittedly, the date of the Exodus and the identity of the relevant Pharaoh are difficult questions. The name of the Pharaoh is not provided in the Bible. One scholar has remarked:[2]
The absence of the pharaoh’s name may ultimately be for theological reasons. The Bible is not trying to answer the question “who is the pharaoh of the exodus” to satisfy the curiosity of modern historians. Rather, it was seeking to clarify for Israel who was the God of the exodus.[3]
Nevertheless, there have been some important developments in recent decades which warrant this post. Part I: The Date of the Building of Solomon’s Temple According to 1 Kings 6:1, 480 years elapsed from the Exodus to the building of the First Temple in the 4th year of the reign of Solomon.[4] This suggests that a first step towards dating the Exodus would be obtaining the BCE date for the building of the First Temple.[5] When books published by ArtScroll and other traditional Orthodox publishers provide a date for the building of the First Temple, the date they provide will usually be around 831 BCE.[6] Unfortunately, this date is far off. The date for the building is approximately 966 BCE. Why is there such a discrepancy? ArtScroll and the other traditional Orthodox publishers will provide a date around 831 BCE because that is the date for the building of the First Temple that is implied from rabbinic chronology. 831 BCE is the date that is arrived at after subtracting from 70 CE: 1) the 420 years which rabbinic chronology assigns to the Second Temple period, 2) the 70 years between the Temples, and 3) the 410 years which rabbinic chronology assigns to the First Temple period.[7] (In this calculation, one arrives at 831 BCE and not 830 BCE, because there is no year zero between 1 BCE and 1 CE.) But there are two problems with this calculation: 1. The Second Temple period spanned 589 years, not 420 years. I have addressed this extensively in my book, Jewish History in Conflict (1997), and will only touch upon it briefly here: The Tanach does not span the entire Persian period, which lasted about 207 years (539-332 BCE). Only some of the kings from the Persian period are included in Tanach.[8] The rabbinic figure of 420 years for the length of the Second Temple period probably originates with R. Yose b. Halafta of the 2nd century C.E., who was the author or final editor of Seder Olam.[9] When R. Yose had to establish a length for the Second Temple period, he did not have complete information. In assigning a length, he decided to utilize a prediction found at Daniel 9:24-27. Here, there is a prediction regarding a 490 year period, but the terminii of this 490 year period are unclear. For a variety of reasons, R. Yose decided to interpret the 490 year period as running from the destruction of the First Temple to the destruction of the Second Temple. After subtracting 70 years for the period between the Temples, he was left with only 420 years to assign to the Second Temple period. This forced him to present a chronology with a shorter Persian period than he otherwise would have.[10] (Even so, he probably did not believe that the Persian period spanned anything close to two centuries.) 2. The First Temple period spanned approximately 380 years (c. 966-586 BCE), not 410 years. The First Temple was destroyed in 586 BCE[11] (and not 421 BCE, as implied by rabbinic chronology). It was built in the 4th year of Solomon. The BCE dates for the reigns of Solomon and the other First Temple period kings can be calculated because of the interactions between some of our kings and some of the Egyptian and Assyrian kings.[12] For example, the Tanach tells us (I Kings 14:25) that king Shoshenk (=Shishak) of Egypt invaded Jerusalem in the 5th year of Rehavam. Based on Egyptian sources, this invasion can be dated to 926 or 925 BCE. Assuming we (arbitrarily) utilize the 925 BCE date and assuming that Rehavam followed an accession-year dating system,[13] this means that the year Rehavam acceeded to the throne (=the year Solomon died), would have been approximately 930 BCE. Solomon ruled into his 40th year (I Kings 11:42 and II Ch. 9:30) This means that the fourth year of his reign would have been approximately 966 BCE.[14] The Tanach nowhere states that the First Temple period spanned 410 years. If one totals the reigns of the individual kings of Judah during the First Temple period, and adds the last 37 years of the reign of Solomon, one obtains a figure of approximately 430 years.[15] The origin of the 410 year figure is somewhat of a mystery.[16] The large 430 year total is probably due to cases of co-regencies of father and son, or cases where the son ruled while the father was still alive but not functionally reigning. In these cases, the Tanach has sometimes provided the full amount of years that each king reigned, even if only nominally, despite the overlap.[17] —- Once we realize that the First Temple was built in approximately the year 966 BCE, we can date the Exodus, based on I Kings 6:1, to approximately the year 1446 BCE.[18] If so, Thutmose III (1479-1425) would be the Pharaoh of the Exodus.[19] Part II. Must We Accept the 480 Year Figure Found at I Kings 6:1?[20] Two separate questions are implied here: 1. Are we, as Orthodox Jews, required to accept this figure found in the book of Kings? 2. What evidence supports and contradicts this figure? I am not going to address the first question. This kind of question has been discussed elsewhere.[21] (My book includes much discussion of whether Orthodox Jews are required to accept the 420 year tradition for the length of the Second Temple period. But admittedly that is a different issue, because only a rabbinic tradition is involved.) As to the second question, the 480 year figure is roughly consistent with a 300 year figure utilized by Yiftah, one of the later Judges, in a message he sends to the king of Ammon (Judges 11:26):
While Israel dwelt in Heshbon and its towns, and in Aror and its towns, and in all the cities that are along by the side of the Arnon, three hundred years, why did you not recover them within that time?
But what happens when we compare the 480 figure with the data found in the books of Joshua, Judges and Samuel? The specific years mentioned in the book of Judges (8, 40, 18, 80, 20, 40, 7, 40, 3, 23, 22, 18, 6, 7, 10, 8, 40, and 20) total 410.[22] To calculate the period from the Exodus to the 4th year of Solomon, one must add to this: -40 years for the desert wandering; -a length for the period the Israelites were led by Joshua, and after his death, by the elders; [23] -a length for the judgeship of Shamgar; -40 years for the judgeship of Eli (I Sam. 4:18);[24] -a length for the judgeship of Samuel;[25] -a reasonable length for the reign of Saul;[26] -40 years for the reign of David (II Sam. 5:4-5, I Kings 2:11); and – the first 3 years of Solomon. If one does this, one arrives at a sum greater than 480 for the period from the Exodus to the 4th year of Solomon. (But to the extent that some of the numbers in the book of Judges can be viewed as overlapping,[27] the discrepancy is reduced.) The 300 year figure utilized by Yiftah can be interpreted as only an approximation. More importantly, the context of the statement suggests that it was only an exaggeration, made with the intent of strengthening the Israelite claim to the land involved. As one scholar writes (exaggeratingly!):[28]
Brave fellow that he was, Jephthah was a roughneck, an outcast, and not exactly the kind of man who would scruple first to take a Ph.D. in local chronology at some ancient university of the Yarmuk before making strident claims to the Ammonite ruler. What we have is nothing more than the report of a brave but ignorant man’s bold bluster in favor of his people, not a mathematically precise chronological datum.
The 480 figure, in its context, does sound like it was meant to be taken literally.[29] But it has been argued that it was only a later estimate based on mistaken assumptions.[30] Moreover, we have no other evidence that the Israelites in the period of the Judges and up to the time of Solomon were keeping track of how many years it had been since the Exodus. There was a time when there was significant evidence in support of a 15th century BCE Exodus. For example: ° When Yeriho was excavated in the 1930s by John Garstang, he found a city wall that he estimated to have collapsed around 1400 BCE. He also excavated an area which was destroyed in part by fire, and dated this destruction to around 1400 BCE.[31] But Kathleen Kenyon, excavating two decades later, showed that the collapsed wall was from about 1000 years earlier,[32] and that the destruction and conflagration that Garstang had dated to 1400 BCE should in fact be dated to around 1550 BCE.[33] ° The volcanic eruption that occurred long ago on the Mediterranean island of Santorini[34] might explain most of the ten plagues and the parting of the yam suf.[35] This was the second largest eruption in the past four millenia, and there is no question that it had an impact as far away as Egypt.[36] This eruption had traditionally been dated to around 1500 BCE. But recent radiocarbon and other scientific dating now strongly suggest that this eruption took place in the middle or late 17th century BCE.[37] There is much circumstantial evidence against a 15th century BCE Exodus: ° The implication of the book of Exodus is that the Israelites, in the northeastern part of Egypt, were not far from the capital.[38] But in the period from 1550- 1295 BCE, the Egyptian capital was located in a region farther south, at Thebes.[39] It was only beginning with Seti I (1294-1279) that an area in the northeastern part of Egypt began functioning as the Egyptian capital, when Seti I built a palace there.[40] ° After the Six-Day War and additional areas came under Israel’s control, Israeli archaeologists were able to study much new territory that had been part of ancient Israel. Their studies show that the period that Israelite settlements began to appear in the land was the late 13th and early 12th centuries BCE, not the 15th and 14th centuries BCE.[41] ° Scores of Egyptian sources from 1500-1200 BCE have come to light that refer to places and groups in Canaan.[42] Yet there is no reference to Israel or to any of the tribes until the Merneptah Stele from the late 13th century BCE.[43] (The Merneptah Stele will be discussed below.) ° The Philistines appear as a major enemy of Israel during the period of the Judges,[44] appearing in chapters 3, 10 and 11 of the book of Judges.[45] But they only arrived in the land of Canaan around the 8th year of Ramesses III (=1177 BCE).[46] ° Egypt is never mentioned as one of the oppressors against whom Joshua or a leader in the book of Judges fought. This would be very strange for a conquest commencing around 1400 BCE. Egypt seemed to have exerted strong control over the land of Canaan at this time and for the next 200 years.[47] Part III. Most Likely, the Relevant Pharaohs are Ramesses II (1279-1213) and Merneptah[48] (1213-1203) We have already observed that, archaeologically, the period that Israelite settlements began to appear in the land is the late 13th and early 12th centuries BCE. This suggests that we should be looking in the 13th century BCE for our Pharaoh of the Exodus. Moreover, Exodus 1:11 tells us that the Israelites built store cities (arei miskenot) called Pitom andרעמסס .[49] Since the latter is an exact match to the name of a Pharaoh, this suggests that the Pharaoh who ordered this work (=the Pharaoh of the Oppression) bore this name. No Pharaoh bore this name until the 13th century BCE. The first to do so was Ramesses I. But he only reigned sixteen months (1295-94). Thereafter, after the reign of Seti I, Ramesses II reigned for over six decades. [50] Since Ramesses I only reigned sixteen months, while Ramesses II reigned over six decades, it is much more likely that the latter is the Pharaoh we should be focusing upon. Moreover, archaeology has shown that Ramesses II was responsible for building a vast city called Pi-Ramesse, which would have required vast amounts of laborers and brick.[51] Ramesses I, on the other hand, is not known to have built any cities.[52] Exodus 2:23 tells us that the Pharaoh of the Oppression died. If Ramesses II was the Pharoah of the Oppression, the Pharaoh of the Exodus would be his successor, Merneptah.[53] But there is problem with this scenario. The Stele of Merneptah,[54] dated to his 5th year, refers to “Israel”[55] as one of the entities in the region of Canaan that Merneptah boasts of having destroyed.[56] This implies that Israel was already a significant entity in the land at this time. The pertinent section of the Stele reads: [57]
The princes lie prostrate… Not one lifts his head among the Nine Bows.[58] Destruction for Tehenu! Hatti is pacified Cannan[59] is plundered with every evil Ashkelon is taken; Gezer is captured; Yanoam is made non-existent; Israel lies desolate; its seed[60] is no more; Hurru has become a widow for To-Meri; All the lands in their entirety are at peace…[61]
If the Exodus was followed by a 40 year period of wandering in the desert, and all of the Israelites entered Israel in the same stage, it would be impossible for Merneptah to have been the Pharaoh of the Exodus, since there was already an entity called Israel in the land of Canaan in the 5th year of his reign. Of course, one approach is to view Ramesses II as both the Pharaoh of the Oppression and the Pharaoh of the Exodus, and to treat verse 2:23 as an erroneous detail that somehow made its way into our official tradition. Obviously, we would like to avoid such an approach. Interestingly, there is a rabbinic view that treats the death mentioned at 2:23 euphemistically. According to this midrashic rabbinic view, verse 2:23 did not mean that the Pharaoh died; it only meant that he became leperous.[62] Identifying the Pharaoh of the Oppression with the Pharaoh of the Exodus is at least consistent with this rabbinic view.[63] A different solution is to postulate that some Israelites never went down to Egypt, and that these are the Israelites referred to by Merneptah. Although we are not used to thinking in this manner, there is perhaps some evidence in Tanach for such an approach.[64] Other solutions view the Israelites referred to by Merneptah as Israelites who left Egypt before the enslavement began, or who were enslaved but left Egypt in an earlier wave. Rabbi J. H. Hertz took the first of these approaches, and his comments (although written in the 1930’s) bear repeating: [65]
[If the reference in the Stele is to Israelites], then it refers to the settlements in Palestine by Israelites from Egypt before the Exodus… From various notices in I Chronicles[66] we see that, during the generations preceding the Oppression, the Israelites did not remain confined to Goshen or even to Egypt proper, but spread into the southern Palestinian territory, then under Egyptian control, and even engaged in skirmishes with the Philistines. When the bulk of the nation had left Egypt and was wandering in the Wilderness, these Israelite settlers had thrown off their Egyptian allegiance. And it is these settlements which Merneptah boasts of having devastated during his Canaanite campaign. There is, therefore, no cogent reason for dissenting from the current view that the Pharaoh of the Oppression was Rameses II, with his son Merneptah as the Pharaoh of the Exodus.
—– If we view the entity “Israel” in the Stele as representing the body of Israelites who came out of Egypt in the main Exodus, the matter of the determinative sign used for “Israel” becomes significant. The name “Israel” is marked with a determinative sign that differs from the determinative sign used for all the other city-states and lands in this section. All of the others[67] are accompanied by the determinative sign for city-state/land/region, while “Israel” is accompanied by the determinative sign for “people.” This could mean that the people of Israel were viewed as having arrived in Israel only recently and as having not yet settled down. This interpretation of the sign would support the view that the Exodus occurred only shortly before the time of the Stele, i.e., in the 13th century BCE.[68] Alternatively, the sign could mean only that the people of Israel were viewed as a nomadic people, or as a people that were settled in scattered rural areas but not as a city-state.[69] The implication of the different determinative sign for “Israel” has been much debated.[70] —– A key issue that needs to be addressed is how a 13th century BCE Exodus squares with the book of Joshua and its listing of various sites in Canaan that were conquered by the Israelites. We would like to know, for each site,[71] if there is evidence of people having occupied the site in the 13th and 12th centuries BCE (so that they could have been there for the Israelites to defeat), and whether or not there is evidence of a 13th or 12th century BCE destruction at the site.[72] I cannot discuss every site included in the book of Joshua, but I will briefly discuss four of them: [73] °Hazor: The archaeological evidence indicates that there was an occupation at Hazor which was terminated by a destruction in the latter half of the 13th cent. BCE.[74] Evidence of a conflagration as part of this destruction has also been found. Joshua 11:11 had referred to a destruction by conflagration at Hazor. °Lachish: The archaeological evidence indicates that there was an occupation at Lachish which was terminated by a destruction around 1200 BCE, and an occupation which was terminated by a destruction in the reign of Ramesses III (1184-1153 BCE).[75] °Ai (= Et-Tell). The archaeological evidence indicates that this area was entirely deserted from around 2400 BCE to around 1200 BCE, when a new smaller occupation seems to have begun peacefully.[76] °Yeriho: The archaeological evidence indicates that there was a conflagration and destruction at Yeriho in approximately 1550 BCE.[77] There was minimal occupation thereafter, without any wall, in the period from about 1400-1275 BCE.[78] There is no evidence of any occupation in the period from about 1275-1100 BCE.[79] Thus, the evidence from Hazor and Lachish is consistent with a 13th century BCE Exodus, but the evidence from Ai and Yeriho is not. But Et-Tell may not have been the Biblical Ai; many other sites for Ai have been suggested.[80] With regard to Yeriho, it may have only been a small fort in the 13th century BCE, with only a minor wall,[81] and the evidence of this minor occupation and destruction may have eroded away over the centuries.[82] The book of Joshua never calls Yeriho a “large” city.[83] —- Finally, a few other matters need to be discussed in connection with attempting to identify the relevant Pharaohs as Ramesses II and Merneptah: °Exodus 7:7 records that Moses was 80 years old when he first spoke to Pharaoh. If the Pharaoh of the Oppression was Ramesses II, and Moses was born shortly after he began to reign in 1279 BCE, Ramesess II, Merneptah and Amenmesses (the subsequent Pharaoh) would all have died by the time Moses was 80.[84] (The reigns of Ramesses II, Merneptah, and Amenmesses total approximately 79 years). Yet the book of Exodus only records the death of one Pharaoh between the beginning of the Oppression and the Exodus. A response is that we do not have to make the assumption that Moses was born after Ramesses II began to reign and that Ramesses II was the Pharaoh who ordered the male infants thrown into the river. We can understand the decrees against the Israelites to have been enacted in stages by separate Pharaohs, and assume that the book of Exodus oversimplifies matters in portraying only one Pharaoh of the Oppression. The import of Exodus 1:11 can be that the Israelites eventually built or completed the store cities of Pitom and Ramesses under Ramesses II.[85] ° The 14th chapter of Exodus and Psalms 106:11 and 136:15 can be read as implying that even the Pharaoh drowned.[86] But the mummies of both Ramesses II and Merneptah (and of nearly every Pharaoh from the New Kingdom[87]) have been found,[88] and their examination suggests that Ramesses II died from old age[89] and that Merneptah died from heart trouble.[90] Moreover, if all the Egyptians at the scene drowned, it would have been unlikely that the body of a drowned Pharaoh would ever have been recovered. A response is that one can easily understand the 14th chapter of Exodus and the above verses from Psalms as not necessarily implying that the Pharaoh actually entered the water.[91] ° The fact that the book of Ruth (4:20-22) records David as being only the sixth generation from Nahshon can be reconciled with a 13th century BCE Exodus. On the other hand, the list of high priests that the Tanach provides from Aaron to the time of Solomon is longer,[92] and the geneaology of Samuel that the Tanach provides is even longer.[93] Thus, the evidence from the geneaological lists in Tanach is inconsistent. [94] Part IV. A Brief Response to “Exodus Denial” A mainstream view in scholarship today is that all or most of the Israelites originated in Canaan.[95] If a portion of the Israelites were slaves in and fled from Egypt, it is argued that they were only a small portion. “Exodus Denial” has infected the new Encyclopaedia Judaica as well.[96] The archaeological evidence for the theory that all or most of the Israelites originated in Canaan is very speculative.[97] Archaeology has been able to document a large increase in population in the central hill country of Canaan commencing at the end of the 13th century BCE,[98] and to provide grounds for identifying this new population with early Israel.[99] But determining where this increased population came from is a much more difficult task.[100] A main reason the occurrence of an Exodus is disputed is the lack of Egyptian records recording a story of an enslavement of Israelites and their flight.[101] But we do not have narrative history works from the times of the possible Pharaohs of the Exodus. Nor, with regard to the 13th century BCE Pharaohs, do we have their administrative records. As the noted Egyptologist Kenneth Kitchen has remarked:
As the official thirteenth-century archives from the East Delta centers are 100 percent lost, we cannot expect to find mentions in them of the Hebrews or anybody else.[102]
In the limited 15-13th century BCE material from the Egyptian palaces and temples that has survived, there is evidence that foreign workers and captives were employed in building projects; that the supervision of the work was two-tiered;[103] that straw was used as an ingredient in the bricks; that workers were faced with brick quotas; and that workers were supervised by taskmasters threatening to beat them with rods.[104] The one thing we are lacking is a document or relief from Egypt referring to slaves or workers as “Israel.” But even though the Merneptah Stele refers to our ancestors outside the land of Egypt as “Israel”, this does not mean that Egyptians would have used this term for our ancestors as slaves inside Egypt. Levantines in Egypt would typically be described as “Asiatics” (Egyptian: ‘amw), not by specific affiliations.[105] Moreover, our ancestors may have been intermingled with native Egyptians and other foreign groups while enslaved. Leiden Papyrus 348, a decree by an official of Ramesses II, does record that grain rations were given to: “the apiru who are dragging stone to the great pylon (=gateway)” of Ramesses II.[106] There was a time when a mainstream scholarly position was that apiru was a reference to the Israelites. Now most scholars believe that the term is a general term for a class of renegades or displaced persons. As has been noted, the Biblical Hebrews (=Israelites) may have been apiru, but not all apiru were Biblical Hebrews.[107] It has often been pointed out that it is unlikely that any people would invent a tradition of slavery in another land. Moreover, references to the Exodus are numerous in Tanach.[108] Instead of looking at Egyptian history for references to the Israelite enslavement in Egypt, some scholars take a different approach to proving the enslavement. They attempt to find evidence in the Bible for knowledge of Egyptian practices and beliefs.[109] For example, all of the following suggest that there was an Israelite enslavement in Egypt: -The Biblical knowledge of the details of the slaveworking process in Egypt (e.g., two tiers of supervision, bricks from straw, and brick quotas). -The fact that some of the Biblical plagues seem to reflect a negation of Egyptian deities. -The fact that some of the Biblical stories seem to be a polemical response to Egyptian beliefs. For example, the emphasis on the hardening of the Pharaoh’s heart seems to be a response to an Egyptian belief in the lightness of an innocent heart.[110] The use of the phrase חזקה ביד seems to be a response to the use of a similar term in Egypt to describe the power of the Pharoah.[111] The story of the saving of the baby Moses is perhaps a response to an Egyptian mythical birth story involving Horus.[112] -Many words in the Bible are of Egyptian origin. I will conclude with another quote from Kitchen:[113]
The Egyptian elements suggest a direct knowledge of how Egyptian labor functioned; the magical practices and the plagues are closely tied to specially Egyptian conditions… The Exodus route via Pi-Ramesse and Succoth fits the 13th century B.C… The lack of any explicit Egyptian mention of an Exodus is of no historical import, given its unfavorable role in Egypt, and the near total loss of all relevant records in any case…The sudden increase in settlement in 12th century [BCE] Canaan is best explained by an influx of new people (not needfully a military conquest…)…That they had ultimately come from Egypt is not proven but (in light of the long and pervasive biblical tradition and good comparative data) is by far the most logical and sensible solution.[114]
End Note There are Egyptian legends from as early as the 4th and 3rd centuries BCE which refer to a mass departure of Jews from Egypt in ancient times. One could argue that these reflect independent Egyptian traditions confirming the Exodus. But more likely, these legends originated as Egyptian corruptions of an Exodus tradition that originated with the Jews, or as Egyptian polemical responses to such a tradition. I will now describe these Egyptian legends. Hecateus of Abdera, a 4th century BCE Greek historian, tells us that a pestilence arose in Egypt in ancient times. The common people ascribed it to the workings of a divine agency. The Egyptian observances had fallen into disuse due to the many strangers in their midst. To remedy the situation, the people decided to expel the foreigners. The most outstanding of the foreigners ended up in Greece; the majority of the foreigners were driven into Judea, and were led by Moses.[115] Hecateus is known to have traveled to Egypt and to have written a book about the ancient Egyptians. Most likely, he heard this story in his travels in Egypt. Manetho, a 3rd century BCE Egyptian historian, tells us two Exodus stories. The first story[116] begins with an erroneous equation of the Israelites with the Hyksos invaders.[117] Manetho reports that there was a certain shepherd-people called Hyksos who came from the east and ruled Egypt for several hundred years. Eventually, the Egyptian king Misphragmouthosis defeated them and confined them to a place called Auaris. His son, king Thoummosis (whom he later calls Tethmosis), concluded a treaty with them.[118] Under the treaty, the Hyksos were allowed to evacuate Egypt unharmed. Manetho continues:
Upon these terms no fewer than two hundred and forty thousand, entire households with their possessions, left Egypt and traversed the desert to Syria. Then, terrified by the might of the Assyrians, who at that time were masters of Asia, they built a city in the country now called Judaea, capable of accomodating their vast company, and gave it the name of Jerusalem. After the departure of the pastoral people from Egypt to Jerusalem, Tethmosis, the king who expelled them from Egypt, reigned twenty-five years and four months… [119]
The second story[120] is one which Manetho admits is less reliable.[121] In this story, the king involved is named Amenophis.[122] The following is one scholar’s summary of this story:[123]
Amenophis desired to behold the gods and received an oracle that he would attain his wish if he purified the land of lepers. The king gathered them and sent them to forced labor in the quarries, then gave them the city of Avaris as their territory, their number amounting to eighty thousand. After they had fortified themselves in Avaris, they rebelled against the king and elected a priest of Heliopolis by the name of Osarseph as their leader.[124] Osarseph commanded the lepers to cease worshipping the gods, also ordering them to slaughter and eat the sacred animals of the Egyptians. He further forbade them to associate with people not of their persuasion. He fortified Avaris with walls and sent an invitation to the descendants of the Hyksos who lived in Jerusalem to come to his aid in the conquest of Egypt. They obeyed him willingly and came to Egypt to the number of 200,000. King Amenophis fled in fear to Ethiopia, taking with him the sacred animals, and stayed there thirteen years, as long as the lepers ruled Egypt. The rule was of unparalleled cruelty; the lepers burned down towns and villages, plundered Temples, defiled the images of the gods, converted shrines into shambles and roasted the flesh of the sacred beasts. Ultimately, Amenophis gathered courage to fight the lepers, attacking them with a great host, slaying many of them and pursuing the survivors as far as the frontiers of Syria.
Select Bibliography Galpaz-Feller, Penina. Yitziat Mitzrayim: Mitziyut o Dimyon, 2002. Hasel, Michael G. “Israel in the Merneptah Stela,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 296 (1994), 45-56. Hasel, Michael G. “Merenptah’s Inscription and Reliefs and the Origin of Israel,” in Beth Albert Nakhai, ed., The Near East in the Southwest: Essays in Honor of William G. Dever, 2003, 19-44. Hess, Richard S., Gerald A. Klingbeil, and Paul J. Ray, Jr. eds. Critical Issues in Early Israelite History, 2008. Hoffmeier, James K. Israel in Egypt, 1997. Hoffmeier, James K. “What is the Biblical Date for the Exodus? A Response to Bryant Wood,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 50/2 June 2007, 225-47. Kitchen, Kenneth. “The Exodus,” in Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 2, 700-08, 1992. Kitchen, Kenneth. The Reliability of the Old Testament, 2003. Malamat, Abraham. “Let My People Go and Go and Go and Go,” Biblical Archaeological Review Jan-Feb. 1998, 62-66. Wilson, Ian. Exodus: The True Story, 1985.
[W]hen the Bible gives us technical or statistical data and the like, it frequently prefers the ascending order, since the tendency to exactness in these instances causes the smaller numbers to be given precedence and prominence.
See Cassuto, The Documentary Hypothesis and the Composition of the Pentateuch, tr. by Israel Abrahams (1961), p. 52. (Cassuto developed this theory in order to refute the view that the explanation for the different orders was a difference in sources.) The number in I Kings 6:1 is written in ascending order (80 + 400).
[T] he “Nine Bows” are the traditionally hostile neighbors of Egypt; the Tehenu are one of the Libyan peoples; Hatti is the land of the Hittites, now Asiatic Turkey; Ashkelon and Gezer are two southerly Cannanite towns; Yanoam is a town in the north of the country; Hurru , the land of the Hurrians, who are the Biblical Horites, is an Egyptian term for Palestine and Syria. To-Meri is another name for Egypt.
[I]t may be concluded that… [at the time of the Stele] the people of Israel was located in Canaan, but had not yet settled down within definable borders. Its presence there was of recent origin, so that the Exodus would have taken place in the course of the thirteenth century BCE.
See also the comments of Lawrence Schiffman in “Making the Bible Come to Life: Biblical Archaeology and the Teaching of Tanach in Jewish Schools,” Tradition 37/4 (Winter 2003), p. 48, n . 19:
The text describes the situation in Canaan in the thirteenth century B.C.E. with Israel alone pictured as a people without a geographical designation. This clearly refers to the period between the invasion and the actual settlement of the various Israelite tribes.
Those advocating an earlier date for the Exodus can make a different argument from the Stele. Since Merneptah felt that the destruction of Israel was something to boast about, Israel must have been a significant entity, one that was long-established in the land.
[O]nly four can be regarded as deficient in background finds for LB II [=Late Bronze II, c. 1350-1200 BCE] and in those cases there are factors that account for the deficiency. The rest shows very clearly that Joshua and his raiders moved among (and against) towns that existed and which in several cases exhibit destructions at this period…
Kitchen’s four deficient sites were: Makkedah, Yeriho, Ai, and Givon, and his suggested explanations were: erosion (Yeriho), wrong site (Ai), and most of the site still undug (Makkedah and Givon). Most scholars who have analyzed the sites listed as conquered in the book of Joshua have come out to more critical conclusions. See, e.g., Dever, pp. 54-72.
[C]onstruction at Tell el-Dab‘a-Qantir is now documented under the previous reigns of Horemheb (1323-1295 BC) and Seti I (1294-1279) BC. This means that the oppression of the Hebrews could have begun decades before the reign of Ramesses II and culminated with the construction of Pi-Ramesses.
The construction by Horemhab involved renovations at the Temple of Seth and enlargement of a fortress. Kitchen, On the Reliability, p. 309, Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, p. 123, and Bietak, p. 10.
The discussion of the Exodus is connected with the Israelite Conquest of Canaan. Both of these events are not historical… Truth to tell, there was never any external evidence for the enslavement in Egypt and the subsequent exodus. Those scholars who supported some version of the enslavement tradition argued, irrelevantly, that no one would have made up a tale of enslavement, and that the tradition was persistent… The general consensus at present is that the people Israel arose in the land itself or perhaps from an area slightly to the east, with no indication of an Egyptian cultural past… [T]he tradition that the people of Israel originated outside the land serves to distance Israel from peoples to whom [they] were ethnically quite close…
The view that the Israelites obtained possession of Canaan mainly through a military conquest at the time of Joshua has also come under much attack in recent decades. The general consensus at present is that the settlement process was largely a peaceful infiltration into areas that had not been settled by the Canaanites. This rejection of the Conquest model contributes to Exodus denial, as many argue that if there was no Conquest, there was probably no Exodus. But the Exodus and Conquest are not dependent on one another. One can easily take the approach that most of the Israelites arrived in Canaan subsequent to an Exodus from Egypt but that the book of Joshua overdramatizes what happened thereafter.
This extraordinary increase in population in Iron I cannot be explained only by natural population growth of the few Late Bronze Age city-states in the region: there must have been a major influx of people into the highlands in the twelfth and eleventh centuries BCE….That many of these villages belonged to premonarchic Israel…is beyond doubt.
(Iron I is the period c. 1200-1000 BCE. The Late Bronze Age is the period c. 1550/1500-1200 BCE.) Kitchen jokingly suggests that if we do not accept an outside origin for the Israelites, the only other explanation for the huge population growth in highland Canaan between 1250/1200 and 1150 BCE is “a half century of fertility cult sex orgies.” See On the Reliability, pp. 226-27.