567) What happened to the Chabad Megillah of Yud-Tet Kislev?

Tomchei Temimim Yeshiva in Otwock during the 1930s

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Wojciech Tworek—examines a unique Megillah (Scroll) compiled in 1936 by the sixth Chabad Rebbe, Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn (1880-1950). It was to be read out aloud and publicly on Yud-Tet Kislev (19^th of Kislev), which is celebrated by Chabad as the Chassidic ‘Festival of Redemption.’ Yud-Tet Kislev commemorates the release and liberation of their founding Rebbe, Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812), also known as the Alter Rebbe, from prison in the Petropavlovsk fortress in 1798. 

Rebuilding the Chabad movement

Six generations later, in 1935, the sixth Chabad Rebbe, Yosef Yitchak Schneersohn, was centred in Otwock (pronounced ‘Ohtvotsk’).  He had moved there after living in Warsaw since 1933. In 1927, he left the USSR and moved to Riga. Yosef Yitchak, too, had also been arrested, imprisoned in Leningrad and exiled to Kostroma. His father, Dovber Schneersohn, established a yeshiva called Tomchei Temimim in Lubavitch in 1897. Lubavitch, situated in western Russia near the border with Belarus, was the centre of Chabad between 1813 and 1915. Tworek (2021:310, n.5) notes, surprisingly, that Chabad’s Soviet years have not yet been sufficiently researched. Tomchei Temimim moved to various places, including Warsaw, and eventually to Otwock around 1935 (about fifty years later, I studied in Tomchei Temimim yeshivot in both Israel and New York). 

While in Otwock, Yosef Yitzchak was trying to strengthen the Chabad movement that had been dispersed and dislocated from its original centre in Lubavitch. Now in Poland, Yosef Yitzchak chose Otwock over Warsaw because he suffered from an illness that required treatment, and Otwock—just twenty-four kilometres outside of Warsaw—was a resort town with a spa and ninety trains passing through each day, which made travelling easy. Otwock had a large general Polish Chassidic community with their own Rebbes, who were not affiliated with Chabad. 

Interwar Poland presented tremendous challenges for Yosef Yitzchak and his detached and isolated Chassidim. Most of the Chabad community was to be found in the vicinity of Vilna. When Tomchei Temimim moved to Warsaw in 1921, there were only twelve students. By the end of the 1930s, the students in all the Polish branches of Tomchei Temimim numbered seven hundred. However, most of these students were not Chabad Chassidim and had to be educated in the ways of Chabad as they had no prior exposure to the movement. 

Safety in Poland and the threat of Zionism

Some years earlier, Yosef Yitzchak had written a vitriolic anti-Zionist letter to some of the Rebbes of Poland who were contemplating settlement in the Holy Land. He challenged the nascent Zionists whom he said, proclaimed: 

מהרו אחינו באו אל ארץ אבותיכם, הבטוחה מפרעות ומשטמת היהודים

“Hurry, our brothers, and come to the Land of your fathers which is safe from pogroms and hatred of Jews.” 

Instead, Yosef Yitzchak promoted remaining behind in Europe and building Torah institutions in places like Poland. He wrote: 

ומדינתינו האדירה - יכוננה עליון כלומר רוסי ופולין, ליטא, לאטווא, ואוקריינא, נתנה יבולה בהרבצת תורה וגן היראה, תודה לתעמיות כהני אל . אשר שמו פניהם כצור, מבלי נתון רמוס הדרת ישראל לכפוף ראשם ולהלך בעקבי העסקנים המדיניים, הם נשיאנו ידעו נצור עץ החיים והדעת להגביר צורת ישראל על החומר להשתמש כעסקנות המדינית

“Our mighty [European] landsꟷmay the God continue to maintain themꟷincluding Russia and Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, and Ukraine, contributed to the spreading of Torah due to their sincere rabbis. They made their faces like flint, not allowing the glory of Israel to be trampled upon nor to lower their heads and be influenced by Zionist political activists. These rabbis know how to uphold the tree of life and knowledge [of Torah] and how to elevate Jews above [Zionist] political activism…” 

In Yosef Yitzchak’s view, by leaving Europe and encouraging settlement in the Holy Land, the Polish Rebbes were effectively: 

לבנות בתי קבר ר"ל, להיהדות וגאון ישראל

“constructing cemeteries for Judaism and the glory of Israel” (Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, 1923, Michtav Oz Shel Torah) [see: Kotzk Blog: 505) Michtav Oz Shel Torah: A 1923 Anti-Zionist Polemical Letter by R. Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson]. 

Living in Poland at that time, there is no doubt that Yosef Yitzchak was aware of growing anti-Jewish sentiment. In his own town of Otwock, the local newspapers reported antisemitic attacks on the train line between Warsaw and Otwock. There were reports about local Polish nationalists who were producing their own bombs. The headquarters of the Mizrachi Zionist movement in Otwock was targeted. In 1937, the Chabad Shaliach (emissary), Shmuel Zalman Gurary, a respected teacher in Tomchei Temimim, was beaten in the streets of Otwock. There were fears that the Yeshiva might be burned down, and the older students were forced to stand guard outside. Still, Yosef Yitzchak championed the idea of remaining in Europe to build Torah institutions. 

Creatively enhancing traditions

At that time, Chabad “was only a marginal hasidic group in the new Polish state” (Tworek 2021:310). Chabad had been severely persecuted in Russia, and the remaining community that sought refuge in eastern Europe was weak and dispersed. 

“In the course of the 1920s and 1930s…the traditional Habad community was disintegrating before his very eyes” (Tworek 2021:318-19). 

According to many scholars, including Tworek, who puts it rather starkly, Yosef Yitzchak had to take matters into his own hands and: 

“invented traditions to construct a community that would be distinct from all others, hasidic or non-hasidic, sharing a collective memory (Tworek 2021:310). 

Yosef Yitzchak’s project of affirming or projecting historicity

According to Yosef Yitzchak, in the early years before the first establishment of Tomchei Temimim in the town of Lubavitch in 1897, the Chassidim would only gather for farbrengens (festivities) twice a year: on the 10^th of Kislev (to commemorate the release of Shneur Zalman’s eldest son, Dovber Shneuri—the second, or Mitteler Rebbe—from prison) and on the 19^th of Kislev (when Shneur Zalman was released). It was only in 1900 that a huge gathering was arranged on Yud-Ted Kislev. Then a year later, in 1901, Shalom Dovber (the father of Yosef Yitzchak and the fifth Rebbe of Chabad) declared Yud-Tet Kislev to be the Rosh Hashana of Chassidism (S. D. Schneersohn, Igerot Kodesh, i. 110).[1] This was as long as 103 years after the release of Shneur Zalman from prison in 1798. Later, Yosef Yitzchak maintained that his father already thought about declaring Yud-Tet Kislev as the New Year of Chassidism, way back in 1894. Whatever date it was, there appears to be a recurrent theme that Yosef Yitzchak was obsessed with affirming an era of authority and antiquity pertaining to every aspect of Chabad Chassidism. 

The Kherson Geniza

Perhaps the most extreme example of this need to show an authentic and direct line of authentic Chassidic teachings from the Baal Shem Tov, through the Magid of Mezeritch to Shneur Zalman can be seen in the case of the Kherson Geniza. This was a corpus of about a thousand letters allegedly written by the Baal Shem Tov, the Magid of Mezeritch and Shneur Zalman  (and many others), essentially ‘proving’ that Chabad has the most authoritative line tracing directly back to the Baal Shem Tov. This would have been a necessary strategy to undermine similar claims by the other well-established Polish Chassidim from within whose milieu Yosef Yitzchak was drawing and attracting his adherents and yeshiva students. Yosef Yitzchak’s collection of letters anachronistically characterised early Chasidism—going right back to the eighteenth-century times of the Baal Shem Tov—as a structured, monolithic and institutionalised dynastic movement, which unquestionably eventually placed the mantle of its universalistic leadership on Shneur Zalman. It seems as if Yosef Yitzchak had projected his future aspirations for the movement he was attempting to rebuild and restructure back to the origin story of the Baal Shem Tov. Most historians, however, have demonstrated that these letters are forgeries, including Rapoport-Albert, who refers to this collection as the “Kherson forgeries” and a “recent fabrication,” designed to: 

“reflect a peculiarly HaBaD perspective on the early history of Hasidism, and to serve HaBaD interests by reinforcing this perspective with corroborative archival documentation… [This] ‘documentation’… lends support to, and clearly reflects, the dynastic consciousness of the HaBaD school, which sees itself as the most authentic heir of the original Hasidism of the founders” (Rapoport-Albert 1988:137). 

Three hundred of these alleged letters were published in Yosef Yitzchak’s journal, Hatamim, which was widely distributed [see: Kotzk Blog: 453) Kherson Geniza - the greatest Chassidic find / or forgery?. I have translated all 300 of these letters for the first time into English; see all 12 Parts: Kotzk Blog: 453) Kherson Geniza - the greatest Chassidic find / or forgery?]. Tworek, affirming the consensus of most scholars, starkly also refers to this collection as a forgery: 

“The journal printed, among other things, Joseph Isaac’s stories about Lubavitch and its old hasidim, bogus letters from the so-called Kherson genizah concerning the origins of hasidism, and other materials intended to construct Habad’s new collective memory” (Tworek 2021:322-23). 

The scholarly consensus created an uncomfortable tension because the last Rebbe Menachem Mendel wrote a defence attesting to the authenticity of the letters, which he argued were copied hurriedly from original letters. Some of the letters, however, were intentionally made to look old and worn, and the Chabad Library today will not grant access to the remaining 700 letters. Also, Yosef Yitzchak’s personal secretary admitted knowing the forger. Tworek, again confirming the consensus of scholarship on the Kherson Geniza, and relating it to the creation of the Scroll of Yud-Tet Kislev, writes that Yosef Yitzchak: 

“turned to the hasidic tradition of storytelling. Until his time, the hasidic story as a genre had played a marginal role in the Habad ethos. [It was] Joseph Isaac who granted the story pride of place in the Habad literary corpus” (Tworek 2021:319). 

These stories were used to affirm Chabad authenticity and historicity, and Yosef Yitzchak: 

“had to attract new followers and turn them into Habad hasidim. As these new recruits could not have absorbed Habad’s collective memory in their traditional homes and communities, they had to be introduced to it by the rebbe and the older Habad hasidim… [Yosef Yitzchak] was instilling nostalgia in young hasidim who had no prior relationship to Lubavitch. Young Polish hasidim were internalizing Habad customs under the tutelage of the yeshiva supervisors (Tworek 2021:321). 

In the hegemonic world of early twentieth-century Chassidic Poland in which Polish Chassidism was thriving, Chabad could now counterclaim itself as the custodians of the rightful and genuine teaching of Chassidism’s founder, the Baal Shem Tov. Tworek (2021:319) refers to the “invention of the Scroll of 19 Kislev,” which forged a new Chabad consciousness. The Scroll also avoided contentious matters like the hand of the Vilna Gaon in Shnuer Zalman’s arrest, this way attempting a universalist and reconciliatory approach incorporating the wider Jewish community (Tworek 2021: 328-29). 

If these findings are correct, then Yosef Yitzchak emerges as a master strategist and great architect of Chabad historicity. In any case, these devices indeed served as successful building blocks to what was soon to become one of the most powerful movements in contemporary Chassidic Judaism, if not Judaism altogether.

The Scroll

A strategic thinker, to say the least, Yosef Yitzchak wrote to his son-in-law—the future Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneersohn—that he had just thought of an innovative idea. This was a week before the Yud-Tet Kislev in 1936 (Y. Y. Schneersohn, Igerot Kodesh, xv. 5582). He wanted to introduce an inspiring activity. He wrote to all his followers, encouraging them to attend the upcoming Yud-Tet Kislev farbrengens (festivities) in their local communities. He promised that he, personally, would ‘participate’ in those gatherings if a Maamar (discourse) or one of his sichot (teachings) would be read out.[2] The Chassidim were to undertake certain Hachlotes (new resolutions) and report back to him on the gathering and the resolutions. Then, in keeping with this theme, the next year, 1937, the "Scroll of the Universally Famous Festival of 19 Kislev" was published in Otwock. 

Note the use of the expression “Scroll of the Universally Famous Festival of 19 Kislev.” This was clearly a promotional strategy, and the exaggeration was similar to the abovementioned anti-Zionist polemical letter from 1923, where Yosef Yitzchak—in an even earlier phase of building up the movement with much less of a following and base—had printed on the cover of his Michtav Oz Shel Torah: 

מאת האדמו״ר הגדול הגה״צ מלובאוויטש שליט״א אשר אלפים ורבבות מישראל חסידי חב״ד יחסו בצלו

“By the Great Admor [Rebbe], the Genius and Saintly one from Lubavitch, who has thousands and ten thousands of Jews who seek shelter under his shadow” (Cover to Y. Y. Schneersohn’s Michtav Oz Shel Torah, 1923). 

This 1937 Scroll was novel and unusual because, in the past, R. Yosef Yitzchak—who was a direct descendant of  R. Schneur Zalman—would just send out his greetings and perhaps a Maamar (teaching) to the Chassidim. However, from his new base in Otwock, and in an attempt to unite his scattered followers and rebuild his movement, he sent a pamphlet written in Yiddish, which became known as the Scroll or Megillah of Yud-Tet Kislev. He issued instructions that it be recited out loud and in public at Chassidic gatherings (farbrengens) to mark the Festival of Redemption on the 19^th of Kislev. He also sent financial contributions to the various communities to cover the costs of such gatherings in which the Scroll was to be read. Here is a record of such an event: 

אחרי קריאת המכתב מכ״ק אד״ש ופתשגן פרשת החג ושתיית משקה מהכסף ששלח כ״ק אד״ש

“After reading out the Rebbe’s [Admor Shelita] letter and the document pertaining to the festival [Scroll], and drinking alcohol from the money that the Rebbe had sent us” (Hatamim ii. 534, translation mine). [The words השקות, השתיה,פתשגן; ‘consuming alcohol,’ ‘drinking,’ and ‘scroll-document’ carry an overt Purim connotation]. 

This new Scroll was just a formalised version of many earlier attempts at creating scrolls for Yud-Tet Kislev. One account of an early celebration of Yud-Tet Kislev by Nachum, the son of Shneur Zalman, describes how the earlier scrolls were treated like the Scrolls of Esther as read on Purim: 

“[H]e adopted the rule in force for the reading of the Megillah on Purim – once at night and a full repetition by day. Moreover, if one of the dignified old chassidim would join the gathering after it had begun, he would go back to the very beginning and start all over again” (The Chassidic Megillah, 2021).[3] 

A special blessing (approximating the formula for Purim and Chanukah) was added to proceedings: “The Holy One Blessed be He shall perform miracles for us, just as He did for our ancestors in those days” (Kovetz Michtavim ii. 530).

This festivity was an interesting development because, originally, the first Chabad Rebbe, Shneur Zalman of Liadi, specifically told his followers not to overemphasise his release from prison, because it would provoke the Mitnagdim (opponents of the Chassidic movement). Be that as it may, at some later point, the Chassidim even extended Yud-Tet Kislev to two days of festivities by including the 20^th of Kislev as well. This was because Shneur Zalman was forced to spend his first day of his release in St Petersburg in the home of a Mitnagid, which was said to have been more painful than his entire incarceration.[4] 

Soon the 19^th and 20^th of Kislev began to take on extraordinary meaning and symbolism. Shneur Zalman noted that the date of his release, now described as a miracle, corresponded to the anniversary of the death of his teacher, the Magid of Mezeritch, twenty-seven years earlier. It did not take long for the Festival of Redemption to be promoted as an auspicious day, not only for Chabad, but for all Chassidim. Additionally, it was also associated with the miracles of Chanukah and Purim, presented as a modern-day version of those festivals. 

“Striving to recapture Habad’s past glory in its new Polish environment, he [Yosef Yitzchak] turned Habad—long distinguished by its local particularism—into a transterritorial movement” (Tworek 2021:319). 

Besides the association with various classical festivals, a new theology developed as well. According to the fifth Chabad Rebbe, Shalom Dovber Schneersohn, the original teachings of Shneur Zalman began to change on his release, and he “thickened the light” of his mystical teachings (Sefer haSichot 2003, Yud-Tet Kislev 1907, 112-20). In other words, before the incarceration, God’s radiance could only be experienced when face to face with the Rebbe. After the incarceration, that radiance could be attained through studying his teachings, without the need for a personal encounter. Additionally: 

“Joseph Isaac kept reminding his followers, one could revive the hasidic radiance in a very tangible way by sending donations to Habad’s core institution: the Tomkhei Temimim yeshiva” (Tworek 2021:318). 

On a more theological level, though, the Scroll took on a life of its own: 

“What was entirely innovative…was its performative aspect. The hasidim were instructed to recite the scroll in their own communities, wherever they were, and to share their impressions of it with each other on the pages of [the journal] Hatamim…” (Tworek 2021:323). 

This became one of the ways in which the Hatamim journal became the locus—or a proto-virtual space—of a scattered community. It can be argued that the editors used the publication with this aim in mind by proclaiming that the responses were so overwhelming and widespread that there was not enough space to include them: 

יש ברשותנו עוד הרבה מכתבים לעשרות ממקומות שונים המודיעים אותנו מסדר חגיגותם בחג הגאולה ומהחלטותיהם הטובות,  אולם מפני קוצר המקום אין באפשרתנו ליתנם כאן ואים יהי׳ ביכולתנו נדפיסם בחוברות הבאות אי״ה ־ המערכת

“We have in our possession, still many more letters from tens of different locations, informing us about the order of your celebrations on the Festival of Redemption, and about your positive resolutions; however, because of space restrictions we are not able to print them here, but if we can, we shall print them in future editions – The Editors” (Hatamim, ii. 534). 

The Scroll as a Megillah

Reference to the Yud-Tet Kislev text as a Megillah (Scroll) and not a Michtav (letter) is significant as it conjours up images of the Scroll of Esther and the notion of miraculous redemption. The Scroll, just like the Purim Megillah, also had to be read out by a qualified reciter or Baal Keria (Tworek 2021:329).The Scroll and its performative aspects evolved to even more closely resemble the festivals of Purim and Chanukah. For example, the idea of Pirsumei Nisa (publicising the miracle) of Chanukah, by placing the Menora candelabra in a public or visible space, is transferred to the Scroll, which is to be read out publicly. Also, Yud-Tet Kislev is just days before Chanukah, on 25 Kislev, and both signify ‘spreading the light.’ The connection to Purim is heuristic, as the festival commemorates the annulment of an evil decree. So too does Yud-Tet Kislev represent the annulment of the evil intent of the Mitnagdim (opponents of Chassidim) to destroy Chassidism. Avigdor, the rabbi who informed on Shneur Zalman to the authorities and ultimately set up the process of incarceration, was compared to Haman in the Esther story who sought the destruction of the Jews. The printed versions of this comparison—in a talk by Shalom Dovber Schneersohn on 19 Kislev 1903—omit this reference to Purim, and offer a more sanitised version by only comparing Yud-Tet Kislev to Chanukah, not Purim.  However, earlier manuscript versions (discovered by Daniel Reiser in the National Library of Israel) do indeed make this reference to Avigdor as Haman in the Purim story (Tworek 2021:325, n. 80). 

In 1931, even before publishing his version of the Scroll of Yud-Tet Kislev, Yosef Yitzchak compared the Scroll of Esther to Yud-Tet Kislev: 

“When we read the Scroll [of Esther] we are speaking [the words of] hasidism. Every [word of] hasidism makes clear to everyone the great miracle which God, blessed be He, performed for the Jews by favouring us with such a revelation of light” (Y. Y. Schneersohn, 20 Kislev 1931, Likutei Diburim, iv. 76). 

From 1931, it seems that: 

“increasingly elaborate accounts of the historical 19 Kislev, prepared the ground for the production of the scroll and its ritualized recitation” (Tworek 2021:326). 

A year later, in 1932, Yosef Yitzchak added still more details: 

“characteristically investing it with a sense of authenticity by claiming that it had come down to him all the way from Shneur Zalman’s own grandson, Menahem Nahum Schneersohn of Nizhyn, who had an especially close relationship with his grandfather” (Tworek 2-21: 326). 

In the account of Shneur Zalman’s grandson, Menachem Nachum, the idea begins to emerge of a Scroll of some sort, written in different versions by Shneur Zalman’s Chassidim soon after his release, and which were read out aloud—publicly, just like the Scroll of Esther. Apparently, Shneur Zalman rejected the idea and instead proclaimed that one day this date of 19 Kislev will be a universal Jewish holiday “and thousands of Jewish hearts will awaken to repentance” (Y. Y. Schneersohn, Likutei Diburim, i.19b-20a). Now, Yosef Yitzchak took upon himself to bring that day closer by writing his own version of a Yud-Tet Kislev Scroll, which would serve as a future canonical text, not just for Chabad but for all Jews. This version was not just about Shneur Zalman’s liberation, but included his life story; emphasising his acceptance by the wider community, enumerating his numerous honourific titles (Tworek 2021:327). Surprisingly—considering his radical earlier anti-Zionist polemical letter of 1923 in which he deplored the Rebbes of Ishbitz and Gur for their brazen audacity to purchase land in Eretz Yisrael—the Scroll now also magnified Chabad’s role in the settlement of the Land of Israel. 

Conclusion

Today, the Scroll of Yud-Tet Kislev is hardly mentioned. In fact, it seems that after the first celebration in 1936, the event was not replicated on such a large scale again.  Nor did the next year’s publication of Hatamim for Yud-Tet Kislev carry any story of such an event that was so popular just a year earlier that the editors could not include all the information. This is quite unusual for a Chassidic community that usually venerates every known innovation of their Rebbes, and especially because this Scroll was published a year after its inception as a specific booklet. Interestingly, however, there is evidence it was read in Israel and even Cape Town, South Africa, around the 1950s (Biton Chabad, 1954, 4, 35). 

Then, in 2013, the messianic Chabad faction reissued the pamphlet, with the corrections by the last Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneersohn (the title ‘Scroll’ and ‘Megillah’ were dropped in some later editions). However, for some reason, another text about Schneur Zalman’s incarceration was adopted instead. This was produced by A.C. Glitzenstein in Yiddish and then translated into English under the title ‘The Arrest and Liberation of Rabbi Shnuer Zalman of Liadi’ (Brooklyn, 1964).  

Chabad no longer appoints a Baal Keriah to read the Scroll, nor do even refer explicitly to the Scroll anymore. A parallel enigma can also be said to apply to a Chassidic Festival on 26 Tammuz that—according to the Kherson Geniza—was established by the Baal Shem Tov himself! It commemorates the Baal Shem Tov’s alleged participation in the 1759 debate with the Frankists in Levov. [see: Kotzk Blog: 123) 26 TAMMUZ - THE CHASSIDIC HOLIDAY THAT NEVER WAS:]. There is no corroborative evidence, however, that the Baal Shem Tov took part in that famous debate. How and why did these great festivities, purportedly established by venerated Chassidic leaders and even the founder of Chassidism, just fall by the wayside? I could not find a single copy or photograph of the 1937 Megillah for Yud-Tet Kislev anywhere on the internet. Did the fact that Yosef Yitzchak’s hand was, in one way or another, associated with both the Scroll of Yud-Tet Kislev and the Festival of 26 Tammuz have anything to do with this unusual phenomenon of their disappearance? If so, why?

 

 

Bibliography

Rappoport-Albert, A., 1988, ‘Hagiography with Footnotes: Edifying Tales and the Writing of History in Hasidism’, History and Theory, vol. 27, no. 4, 119-159.

Tworek, W., 2021, ‘The Scroll of 19 Kislev and the Construction of an Imagined Habad Lubavitch Community in Interwar Poland’, Polin: Studies in Polish Jewry, vol. 33, 309-337.

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[1] To this day, on Yud-Tet Kislev, Chabad Chassidim wish each other, “Gut Yomtov; May you be inscribed and sealed for a good year in the study of Chasidism and the ways of Chasidism.”   

[2] There is another similar example of ‘transporting’ the presence of the Rebbe figure in Chabad, and that is the 1797 publication of the primary Chabad work, Likutei Amarim or Tanya, by Shneur Zalman. This textual presentation was described as a ‘substitution’ for yechidut, or the personal, face to face private meeting with the Rebbe. See the Compilers Foreword to Likutei Amarim, 4a; and Igerot Kodesh, Admor haTzemach Tzedek, i. 29.

[3] Online source: https://ascentofsafed.com/Stories/Stories/5782/pdf/s1250benMittlerMegillah.pdf. Retrieved 21 August 2026.

[4] The Tanya, was published in 20 Kislev 1796, and the 53 chapters are said to correspond to the 53 days he spent in captivity (although according to the Scroll, it was “precisely 52 days” (Y.Y. Schneersohn, Di Megile 7a). Perhaps the extra day was the day he spent with the mitnagid?

 

565) Jewish mysticism: Debates of influence between East and West

A fragment from the Cairo Geniza in the hand of  Maimonides' only son, Avraham ben haRambam

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Ronald Kiener—examines the contested origins of Jewish mysticism, including the neglected question of the role Islamic mysticism may have played. This Islamic influence seems to have been previously missed by the doyenne of Jewish mysticism, Gershom Scholem, who “based largely on manuscripts from Italy and Germany…hardly professes to say much of Judaism in Islamdom” (Hodgson 1974: 2:202, n.1). Scholem’s use of texts predominantly from Europe accounts for his Eurocentric approach to the history of Jewish mysticism. Scholem was not alone because sixty years ago most scholars indeed “looked to Europe in order to provide narrative explanations for the history and development of Jewish mysticism” (Kiener 2011:147). However, scholarship has changed since then, and Moshe Idel, one of the foremost contemporary scholars on Jewish mysticism, starkly declares: 

“Muslim culture is the primary source of influence upon Jewish mysticism” (Idel 1991:33). 

564) Oleksa Dovbush: A Ukrainian Baal Shem Tov?

Oleksa Dovbush 1700-1745

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Boris Czerny[1]—examines some unusual similarities between the Baal Shem Tov (the founder of the Chassidic movement, c.1700-1760) and Oleksa Dovbush (the Ukrainian Robin Hood and rebel leader, 1700-1745). Czerny researched the archives of Kyiv and Lviv, as well as Israel, and analysed texts written in Ukrainian, Russian, Hebrew and Yiddish. He also consulted police and court records concerning Oleksa Dovbush to construct his revolutionary biography (Czerny 2018:34). I thank Professor Czerny for gifting me a copy of his book (in French!). 

563) The suicide of Sarah?

  

Milk urns used to bury documentation form the Warsaw Ghetto as part of the Ringelblum Archives

Note: This article deals with an unusual and peripheral view that the biblical Sarah committed suicide after she heard that her son Isaac was bound on the altar. Suicide is a serious problem in many communities, and ours is no different. Reference to Sarah’s alleged suicide as a ‘virtue’ must be understood within the historical and literary context in which this idea was fermented, and not in any way as a religious sanction of such an act. I deal with it here knowing full well that ideas are dangerous, but equally aware that withholding them is more so. 

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Rabbi Professor Daniel Reiser—examines an unusual Chassidic interpretation of the biblical Sarah’s death as a suicide. This idea is to be found in the writings of the Piaseczno^[1] Rebbe, Kalonymus Kalman Shapira (1889-1943), produced while he was confined to the Warsaw Ghetto. According to Reiser (2021:7): 

“Sarah died in order to demonstrate to God that her excessive  suffering in the wake of Isaac’s near sacrifice was absolutely unbearable.” 

In Shapira’s lived experience, he seemed to identify with Sarah, whom he interpreted as demonstrating that with the episode of the Akeidah—the sacrifice of Isaac—God had pushed humanity too far. 

562) Was Maharal of Prague a philosopher or a veiled mystic?

Tiferet Yisrael by Maharal of Prague. First edition, Venice 1599

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Dr Leore Sachs-Shmueli and Eynel Kapach—examines the question of whether the Maharal of Prague  (1512-1609) was a philosopher or a Kabbalist. The Maharal has long been the subject of much scholarly debate over his relationship to Kabbalah. This new research situates Maharal as a discreet Kabbalist who hid his deep mystical views behind a veil of philosophy. 

561) Maimonidean philosophy as a form of rationalist mysticism?

The Kabbalistic Eitz Chaim as depicted in an early 18th century diagram from the Klau Scrolls Collection showing the complicated mystical path to unio mystica.

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Gideon Freudenthal—explores the possibility of a unio mystica (mystical union) attainable through Maimonidean philosophic and rationalist endeavours. This rationalist unio mystica parallels (and might even surpass) the unio mystica described by the mystics and Kabbalists. If this claim holds, then it is not only the mystics who can, allegedly, experience unio mystica, but also the rationalists. Yet, both states of unio mystica are defined very differently, as one is mystically ecstatic while the other remains purely intellectual. 

560) What Can We Learn From the Writing Style of Kabbalistic Source Books?

This is another guest post by Rabbi Boruch Clinton, and originally appeared on his B'chol D'rachecha site.

(I asked Rabbi Clinton to share his fascinating and original thoughts on the stylistic underpinnings of our mystical texts, not only because so much of his writing resonates with me, but also because I have never before seen a theory of mysticism expressed in such a forthright manner - Gavin Michal)

Many years ago, a Torah scholar speaking at a public gathering I attended said some strange things. Everything sounded fine until you spent a moment thinking about it. As an example, he insisted that “Rabbi S.R. Hirsch and the Baal Hatanya translated the word הלל identically.”

Now that’s simply untrue. R’ Hirsch’s translation of הלל is on the record and it bears no resemblance to the translation reported in the speech.1 It’s not as though there are any political points to be made here one way or the other, it’s just incorrect. I said nothing at the time, but I quietly wondered why that rabbi would have said such nonsense.

559) The murder of Rabbi Avraham Kohn: A contested history

R. Avraham Kohn 1807-1848

Introduction

This article examines the contested history surrounding the murder of R. Avraham Kohn on September 6, 1848. He was a student of the Chief Rabbi of Prague, Shmuel Landau, who ordained him in 1831. He was also a graduate of Charles University of Prague. R. Kohn, himself,  later became the Chief Rabbi of Lemberg (Lviv). 

The story

Jewish Encyclopedia

According to the Jewish Encyclopedia, we are left with more questions than answers concerning the murder of R. Kohn: 

“[W]hile the better element [of Jewish society] rallied about him, the enemies of culture and progress [i.e. the radical Orthodox] were actively engaged in embittering his life and in undermining his growing popularity. Impelled by unbounded fanaticism, and encouraged by the lawless conditions [during the civil unrest] prevailing in 1848, they finally concocted a plan to take Kohn's life. On Sept. 6, 1848, a man, hired by the fanatical clique, entered Kohn's kitchen and poisoned the dinner. While the other members of his family recovered, Kohn and his youngest child died the following day. A wearisome trial ensued; but for some unknown reasons it was suppressed” (Jewish Encyclopedia 1906:534). 

558) The Temple Mount in Religious Zionism: Yesterday’s radicals - today’s moderates?

Hishtachavaya (full body prostration) on the Temple Mount. Just three years ago, this act would have led to immediate ejection.  

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Isaac Hershkowitz—examines the transformation of the Temple Mount from a previously marginal symbol to a current central component of Religious Zionism. 

Until about two decades ago, the need to ascend the Temple Mount was not a primary concern for Religious Zionism. Today, however, it shapes the contemporary political, theological and messianic discourse (Hershkowitz 2026:2). With the demographic rise in the religious sector in general, and the Religious Zionist sector in particular, the question of the Temple Mount is likely to assume an increasingly prominent role in all future Israeli narratives. 

557) The Roaring Lion returns: A contemporary polemic against Jewish mysticism

The Roaring Lion by R. Leon of Modena

Note: This article examines Jewish mysticism and Kabbalah from a historical, psychological and analytical perspective. If you prefer not to read such treatments of mysticism, you may wish to skip this piece. 

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Lippman Bodoff—examines the highly contested roots of Medieval Jewish mysticism. I started writing this article twice and then stopped. This was because I know that some of the ideas expressed in it will be challenging to some, particularly in an era where mysticism has become mainstream Judaism. For many (including myself from the early age of thirteen), mysticism, specifically in the incarnation of modern Chassidism, had been the portal through which we returned to Torah Judaism. 

556) The Babylonian Talmud in its original Persian-Iranian context

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Shai Secunda—explores aspects of the cultural, legal and spiritual background to the Babylonian Talmud. The title of this Talmudic corpus, ‘Babylonian Talmud’ is in itself interesting because it was not produced in Babylonia as many assume, but rather in Sasanian Persia (modern-day Iran). The Babylonian Talmud, or Talmud Bavli, is most often studied in yeshivot, where the cultural context of this foundational work of Jewish literature is usually overlooked. In yeshiva environments, the importance and extraordinary authority of the Babylonian Talmud is frequently regarded as Divine and sometimes accorded a status equal to or above the Torah itself (Secunda 2018: at 2 min). 

555) Resisting the friendship impulse: Relationships in the teachings of Ishbitz

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Israel Koren—explores a most unusual approach to sociability, friendship and family, in the teachings R. Mordechai Yosef Leiner of Izbica (Ishbitz) (1800-1854). He dramatically broke away from the warm, traditional Chassidic conception of interpersonal relationships, which had previously been regarded positively as both reflective of, and parallel to, union with the Divine. Instead, he promoted a decidedly anti-social stance where sociability was scorned. Today, the Ishbitzer’s work, Mei haShiloach, is very popular. However, R. Mordechai’s striking ambivalence toward human friendship and companionship goes mostly unnoticed. Koren’s study of the Isbitzer’s distinct asociality contributes to a fuller understanding of the writings of Ishbitz.