al-Andalus (Muslim Spain) |
Introduction
This article is based extensively on the research by
Professor Talya Fishman[1] on
the differences between the classical approaches of Sefaradim and Ashkenazim
to the Talmud. By ‘classical’ is meant the period prior to the
thirteenth century, when there was a very distinct difference between how Sefarad
(Spain) and Ashkenaz (Northern France and Germany) approached Talmud
study.
Study differences between Ashkenaz and Sefarad
In Ashkenaz, the main focus of Torah study was centred primarily around Talmud study, while in North Africa and al-Andalus (Muslim-ruled Spain) they were more concerned with the study of practical Halacha as found in the locally produced eleventh-century codes of R. Nisim, R. Chananel, and R. Yitzchak Alfasi (1013–1103, ‘Alfasi’ implies ‘from Fez’, Morocco). Later in the twelfth century, the Sefaradim added the code of the Mishneh Torah by Maimonides to their study curriculum which thus continued to remain distinctly Halachic and non-Talmudic.
Bear in mind that this does not suggest a binary approach of
black and white with Sefardim never studying Talmud and Ashkenazim
never concerning themselves with practical Halacha. Obviously, there
were overlaps and we are just looking at general trends.
Another difference that Fishman (2018:123) points out is
the role minhag (custom) played in these two cultures. Ashkenazim
relied heavily on minhag, while Sefaradim paid less attention to
it.
Exploring the early Sefaradic approach to Torah study
The original Sefaradic approach to Torah study, as we
shall see, seems to have actively excluded the study of Talmud. Significantly,
Alfasi had called his commentary-code on (24 sections of) the Babylonian
Talmud, “Sefer haHalachot,” emphasising his preference of Halacha
over dialectics and Talmudic debate.
It is fascinating to see that in order to maintain the original Sefaradic approach which very much downplayed the role of Talmud, they had to explain certain references to “talmud” in the Babylonian Talmud, as referring to something other than the Talmud itself. A Tannaic (Mishnaic) source states:
תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן אֵין לְמֵדִין
הֲלָכָה לֹא מִפִּי תַלְמוּד
“one does not
learn Halacha from Talmud”.[2]
Alfasi’s student, R. Yosef Ibn Migrash (who later became the
teacher of Maimonides’s father) would not refer to the Talmud as the
written work we understand it today:
“Ibn Migash…explicitly distinguished between talmud
and Talmud. Commenting on the tannaitic passage ‘one does not learn halakhah
from talmud’, he noted that the sages who had formulated this dictum
could not possibly have been referring to the written composition of that name,
since it did not yet exist. Thus, he reasoned, talmud for the ancient
rabbis evidently denoted something quite different from what he called ‘our
Talmud’ (hatalmud shelanu)” (Fishman 2018:125-126).
This is what Ibn Migrash wrote:
[T]his Talmud of ours [hatalmud shelanu] is
[a corpus of] applied law [halakhah lema’aseh], for it was not consigned
to writing [ki lo nikhtav] until after several generations of
investigation and scrutiny, and after several redactions. And it is as if…it is
applied law. After all, they wrote it down for the explicit purpose of
[guiding] practice [sheharei la’asot bo ma’aseh ketavuhu].[3]
In other words, according to Ibn Migrash, “our Talmud”
[Talmud shelanu] - which would have been the Talmud available in
his day, during the twelfth century - was the written Talmud (as we have
it today). But the “talmud” of earlier times was not written down. According
to him, the Talmud was written down with the express intention that practical
Halacha be derived from it. This became the Talmud shelanu – our
Talmud.
Talmud shelanu – Our Talmud
1) As we have seen, in the view of Ibn Migrash, the Tannaic
phrase quoted above, that “one does not learn halacha from Talmud,”[4]
referred to another category “talmud” – an Oral Talmud. But once that
Oral Talmud was finally written down, it became a new category
known as “Talmud shelanu,” our Talmud, and we must, and do, learn
Halacha from the written Talmud.
Incidentally, Fishman and other scholars have a later date -
centuries after the common date of 500CE - for the final redaction and
commitment of the Oral Talmud to writing [See Kotzk
Blog: 237) WHEN WAS THE TALMUD WRITTEN DOWN?]. This may further explain the
unusual expression “our Talmud,” as it may have much closer Ibn
Migrash’s time than to 500 CE.
2) A second reference to “our Talmud” is to be found
in the writings of R. Yehuda al-Barceloni,[5] also
during the late eleventh or early twelfth century:
“The Talmud transmitted to us, which is Halacha
le’ma’aseh (practical Halacha).”
3) A third reference is by R. Meir Halevi Abulafia
(1170-1244)
“For this [ancient rabbinic prohibition against
deriving applied law from talmud] applies to their talmud, which they recited
orally. But our Talmud… was written for purposes of applied law [halakhah
lema’aseh] . . . For when it was written, it was written in order that applied
law might be derived from it.”[6]
The question begs: Why were the North African and al-Andalus
(Muslim controlled southern Spanish) rabbis so concerned with practical Halacha
derived from “our Talmud” (the written and therefore practical
Talmud) as opposed to their colleagues in Ashkenaz who were happy
to dwell, instead, on dialectics and theoretical Talmudic debate?
The answer may lie in the influences of the surrounding cultures,
which is a factor that should never be ignored or underestimated.
Cultural influences
a) Rabbi Professor Kanarfogel has shown how cultural trends
from Christian France which emphasised dialectical (argumentative) study may
have influenced the Tosafists, during this same period; to the extent
that contemporaneous rabbinic literature refers to the Tosafist style of
argumentative debate as “dialectika shel goyim,” or dialectics of the
non-Jews [See Kotzk
Blog: 254) TOSAFOT – DIALECTICS OF THE NATIONS?].
b) Rabbi Professor Yaakov Elman and other scholars have
shown how cultural influences of Babylonia severely influenced the Babylonian
Talmud [See Kotzk
Blog: 197) BABYLONIAN INFLUENCES ON THE BABYLONIAN TALMUD: and Kotzk
Blog: 376) Babylonian influences behind the Mourner’s Kaddish; and Kotzk
Blog: 284) THE BAVLI ON ‘TWO POWERS IN HEAVEN’: and Kotzk
Blog: 199) ASTROLOGY – IGNORED BY THE YERUSHALMI, EMBRACED BY THE BAVLI:
and Kotzk
Blog: 279) A BABYLONIAN CONTEXT TO THE BABYLONIAN TALMUD:]
c) Professor Fishman has pioneered a study into Muslim and
Arabic influences that may have affected the ‘written book culture’ of rabbis
living in North Africa and Muslim Spain. This has direct bearing on an understanding
as to why Sefaradim had a different approach to practical halacha,
than their brethren in Tosafist Ashkenaz.
Remember that Ibn Migrash, Yehuda al-Barceloni and Meir
Halevi Abulafia - who spoke of the new written Talmud which they called “our
Talmud” (as opposed to the old oral talmud) - all maintained that a
paradigm shift took place once the oral talmud was committed to writing.
This was because the act of writing gave oral traditions and ideologies a hitherto
unexpressed stamp of official approval.
Roman and Islamic books
The Sefaradic rabbis of North Africa and Muslim Spain
had lived in the heartlands of the former Roman Empire (not its borderlands). In
the heartlands, the assumption remained even long after the collapse of the Roman
Empire, that once writings were ‘published’ (in manuscript or codex form as
printing was only invented in the late fifteenth century), they became syngrama
or ‘official.’ Notes for private use, or hypomnema, were not regarded with
much esteem. In rabbinic culture, these ‘unofficial’ writings were correspondingly
known as megilat setarim:
“As residents of lands in which Roman legal culture
persisted long after the empire’s collapse, the Jews of North Africa and
al-Andalus would have assumed that the consignment of the Talmud to writing…signalled
the transformation of this formerly oral corpus into a text of applied, decided
law” (Fishman 2018:127).
This way, the act of writing changed the way knowledge was perceived.
It was not easy or cheap to produce a written codex and it came with an implied
authority. This authority also brought with it a practical component in that if
the writing was ‘official’ it had to be acted upon and upheld in reality.
It follows that in the Sefaradic Jewish world, living
in such an environment, a similar worldview would have prevailed. This is borne
out by the fact that Sefaradic rabbis from this milieu were preoccupied with
the practical side of the newer written Talmud, over the older dialectical
and theoretical side which a more oral tradition would have maintained.
Thus, we see that Alfasi (Rif) chose to omit from his Sefer
haHalachot, the argumentative debates and dialectics which he saw as
impractical, as well as the Temple-related material which he saw as no longer
practically applicable. He too was following similar approaches of Rabbeinu
Nissim, Rabbeinu Chananel and many Gaonim.
Stammaim (editors) and practical Halacha
On a technical note, in keeping with the prevailing written book
culture of Sefaradi lands, Alfasi:
“assigned greater weight to the Talmud’s late,
anonymous stratum (known to modern scholars as the setam) in drawing
legal conclusions. According to Alfasi, the precise manner in which the
anonymous stratum framed any legal debate subtly guided the discerning reader
to the legal conclusions that were to be drawn” (Fishman 2018: 131-2).
In other words, Alfasi interpreted the final editing style
produced in writing by the Talmudic editors known as Stammaim, as
being subtle indications of where he believed they were trying to point their readers
to – so that they may arrive at practical conclusions and practical codified Halacha.
In a similar vein, according to Leonard Levy, Alfasi saw in
the final edited and written Talmud:
“a unitary, consistent editor who deliberately used
a number of methods to signal the legal sources that were authoritative, and
those that were not.”[7]
It is significant to note that in his Sefer haHalachot,
Alfasi used the term “Gemara” to refer to these anonymous Stammaim
or editors of the Talmud (Fishman 2018:132, note 51). And in Alfasi’s Arabic
writings, he used the term “al-Talmud” to refer to the same editors. He
thus seemed very aware that the final written and edited form of the Talmud
contained clues to practical, not theoretical, outcomes, which were to be translated
as Halacha le’ma’aseh (practical Halacha).
Fishman (2018:132) suggests, that Alfasi’s close attention
to the written work of the editor, Gemara or al-Talmud, may
have been a parallel to the writing culture of the former Roman Empire with its
authority of the written form over oral tradition; as well as a parallel to the
Muslim culture that later filled the Roman void with its related concept of
the Mudawwin (or purposeful editor or redactor).
The Muslim concept of the Mudawwin or editor was:
“the collecting of traditions in writing in order to
derive legal precepts from them and not as a mere memory aid.”[8]
The notion of deriving legal precepts, or in Alfasi’s case practical
Halacha, from a purposeful editor is well-founded within that North African
and Spanish culture (deriving first from Roman and later from Islamic book influences):
“[Alfasi] would certainly have known that scholars
of the majority culture were scrutinizing and shaping their own oral traditions
in order to render applied law. Learned Jews in the book-centred Arab world
were no less concerned than Muslims to demonstrate that their foundational
texts displayed the internal logic, consistency, and elegance that the category
‘book’ demanded…Alfasi relied largely on the Talmudic text itself, and
especially its latest stratum, that of the anonymous setam, in
establishing applied Jewish law” (Fishman 2018:123-3).
This may explain the interesting if not enigmatic use by Sefaradic
rabbis, of the term “Talmud shelanu,” or “Our Talmud,” with
its emphasis, not on theoretical debate as in Ashkenaz, but instead on
applied and practical Halacha and Halachic codes.
Bypassing the Babylonian Talmud
Ibn Migrash, who spoke of the Talmud shelanu (our
Talmud) tradition, actually exhorted judges to bypass the Babylonian Talmud
and only rely on legal codes. He records a question which he had received, and
his answer to it, in the following responsum:
“[Question:] What would our master say about this
man, who never in his life read a halakhah with a master, who knows neither the
way of halakhah nor its interpretation, nor even how to read it—though he has
seen many of the geonic responsa and books of dinim [regulations] …
[Answer:] One who instructs on the basis of geonic
responsa and relies upon them—even if he cannot understand Talmud—is more
proper and praiseworthy than a man who thinks that he knows Talmud and relies
upon himself . . . It is better to permit him to give instruction than many
other people who have established themselves as teachers in our time.”[9]
Proficiency in practical Halacha is thus deemed more
important than proficiency in Babylonian Talmud. Furthermore, a six-volume
Arabic Halachic work written for Dayanim (Judges) in Spain during
the eleventh century, similarly did not require proficiency in Talmud.[10]
Merging of study cultures from the thirteenth-century
However, from around the beginning of the thirteenth century, the cultural divide (certainly with regard to study
preferences) began to wane as the two cultures merged somewhat. This was due,
in some measure, to the influence of the Catalan or north-eastern Spanish scholar,
Nachmanides (1194–1270) who:
“encountered the talmudic glosses composed by north
European Tosafists and introduced changes in the region’s approach to halakhic
study” (Fishman 2018:125).
Nachmanides thus changed the original Sefaradic study
culture as he introduced a more Talmud-centric approach to his students,
many of whom became the foremost rabbis of the next generation of Sefaradim.
Now Spanish rabbis began to follow Nachmanides and they too turned to theoretical
dialectics and even to composing commentaries and chiddishim (novellae)
on the Talmud.
The cultural divide was further diminished, this time from
the Ashkenazi side, after the 1240s when the Talmud was burned in
France, and the central European Jews had to rely on the commentary-code of R.
Isaac Alfasi (Rif), which they referred to as the Talmud Kattan, or lesser
Talmud (Fishman 2018:125). The two learning cultures of Sefarad
and Ashkenaz slowly began to merge from the thirteenth century onwards.
Closing observation
Finally, in keeping with this theme of classical Sefaradic
approaches to Talmud, and considering that today the Babylonian
Talmud is the staple of Torah study for both Sefaradim and Ashkenazim,
it is important to remember that this was not always the case:
“When considering the Sephardi preference for
abridgements of applied law, it is worth remembering that, because of the ‘our
Talmud’ tradition, Jews of al-Andalus did not share the assumption (so
foundational in Ashkenazi culture) that the commandment of talmud torah was
best fulfilled through primary, and even exclusive, engagement with the
Babylonian Talmud and its commentaries” (Fishman 2018:138).
Astoundingly, there was a time when some Sefaradic
rabbis questioned whether the study of the Babylonian Talmud was indeed the
fulfilment of the mitzva of Talmud Torah.[11]
[1] Fishman, T., 2018, ‘The “Our Talmud” Tradition and the Predilection for Works of Applied Law in Early Sephardi Rabbinic Culture’, in Regional Identities and Cultures of Medieval Jews, Littman Library of Jewish Civilisation, 123-145.
[2]
b. Bava Batra 130.
[3]
Ibn Migash, Chidushin on Bava Batra 130b. From a manuscript cited
in Danzig, Introduction to Sefer halakhot pesukot (Heb.), 134; 138–9.
[4]
b. Bava Batra 130b.
[5]
Perush Sefer Yetzira, 186-8.
[6]
Abulafia, Sefer Yad Ramah on b. Bava Batra 130.
[7]
Levy, Leonard, ‘Rabbi Yitzhaq Alfasi’s Application of Principles of
Adjudication’, 178–9.
[8]
Levy, Leonard, ‘The Decisive Shift: From the Geonim to Rabbi Yizhaq Alfasi’, in
Tiferet LeYisrael: Jubilee Volume in Honor of Israel Francus (New York, 2010),
93–130; 117.
[9]
Ibn Migrash, responsum no. 114.
[10]
Sklare, David, ‘R. David ben Sa’adyah al-Ger and His Work Kitab al-Hawi’
(Heb.), Te’udah, 14 (1998), 103–23; 104.
[11]
See Friedman, Shamma, ‘Maimonides and the Talmud’ (Heb.), Diné Israel, 26–7
(2009), 221–39; 222.
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