239) MAIMONIDES - A ‘SECRET KARAITE’?

RAMBAM THROUGH THE EYES OF THE KARAITES:

Writings of Aharon ben Eliyahu, a 14th century Karaite who produced a Karaite version of Maimonides' Guide of the Perplexed. He was known as the 'Karaite Rambam'. 

INTRODUCTION: 

Maimonides is known as one of the fathers of Jewish law and rationalist philosophy, yet he is also variously depicted as a secret mystic; a convert to Islam [See Could Rambam Have Been Forced to Convert to Islam?];  the Lubavitcher Rebbe referred to himself as a follower of Rambam[1]; the Wissenschaft des Judentums of the Enlightenment Movement held Rambam up as their shining light; and even the Karaites claimed him as one of their own!

In this article, which I have based on the research of Professor Daniel J. Lasker[2], we will explore the Karaite claim that Rambam was a secret Karaite.

THE KARAITES:

The Karaite movement was started in the 8^th century in present-day Iraq. Its followers accepted the idea that the Torah was given to Moses at Sinai, but they completely rejected the notion of the Oral Tradition as it manifested through rabbinic Judaism. The Karaites (or Kara’im in Hebrew – from the word kara or mikra meaning ‘Scripture’) based their teachings exclusively on the Written Torah. 

There still are a substantial number of Karaite Jews today, and it appears that at one point in our history, they may have even formed the majority of our nation.

The Karaites often conflicted with the Rabbinites, although in Rambam’s 12^th century Egypt, the two communities had close connections.

[For more on the Karaites see here.]

ELIYAHU BASHYATCHI:

Although the Karaites relied mostly on the literal Torah text, they also had their version of an oral tradition and also had chachamim, halachists and decisors.  One such decisor during the 1400s was Eliyahu Bashyatchi[3] (1420-1490).

Bashyatchi was well-schooled in rabbinic and Talmudic Judaism. His Rabbinite teacher was the Rishon, R. Mordechai Comtino who was also the teacher of the Re’em (R. Eliyahu Mizrachi author of Sefer haMizrachi, a supercommentary on Rashi to the Torah). 

The Re’em became the Chacham Bashi or Chief Rabbi of the Ottoman Empire, and both he and his teacher were known for their tolerant attitudes towards Karaites. Such was the unprejudiced milieu in which Bashyatchi found himself.

RAMBAM AND IBN EZRA – ‘SECRET KARAITES’?

Bashyatchi wrote that both Rambam as well as Avraham Ibn Ezra (who, in his commentary, openly referenced Karaite sources hundreds of times, see here) were:

“...among the great men of Israel...

Their occasional attacks on the Karaites were for external consumption only, but God knows what was in their hearts.

They revealed their secrets to special individuals, since it is improper to say the truth to everyone, but they told the truth to those to whom it was proper.” [4]

According to Bashyatchi, both Rambam and Ibn Ezra were ‘secret Karaites’!

RAMBAM’S ALLEGED ‘DISSILLUSIONMENT’ WITH RABBINIC JUDAISM:

Bashyatchi goes on to bring what he considers to be proof of Rambam’s general ‘disillusionment’ with the mainstream Rabbinite worldview:

“And thus said the sage Rabbi Moses the son of Rabbi Maimon...in the Guide [of the Perplexed]...concerning one of the dicta [statements] of the Rabbinites [irrelevant to our discussion but relating to brevity in prayer]:

‘Would that all [their] dicta were like it!’

It appears from this that he did not consider every dicta of the Rabbinites to be proper, as this one was.”

This quotation from Rambam, praising one particular Talmudic statement, seemed to indicate to Bashyatchi that Rambam openly preferred this Talmudic statement over most of the others, therefore - despite some negative references by Rambam about the Karaites - Rambam was an anti-Rabbinite and a secret Karaite!

Rambam’s actual words in his Guide of the Perplexed are as follows:

“You also know their famous dictum – would that all [their other][5] dicta were like it.”[6]

One can understand how Bashyatchi was happy to be drawn by Rambam’s reference to one Rabbinite statement (about brevity in prayer) as ‘their famous dictum’ – as if Rambam was distancing himself from ‘them’, the Rabbinites.

RABBINITE ‘INTIMIDATION’:

According to Bashyatchi, Rambam was too afraid of his coreligionists to openly admit the truth of Karaism - as were the Ashkenazim of Bashyatchi’s own day in the 1400s too afraid to admit to the truth of Karaism either. This was because, in Bashyatchi’s time, the Rabbinite masses were intimidated by the fact that their leaders would:

 “...eat garlic sauce, make lots of noise about wearing the tallit and tefillin, and wear long coats and decorated Russian hats.”[7]

Bashyatchi seems to imply that the Rabbinite leadership created a societal sub-culture which intimidated their followers into some form of cohesion if not submission.

Accordingly, he alleges that a type of ‘deep state’ existed among the Rabbinite leadership, which prevented the people from recognizing the truth of Karaism.

RAMBAM’S ANTI-KARAITE RHETORIC:

Daniel Lasker writes that the allegation by Bashyatchi that Rambam was a ‘secret Karaite’, is astonishing, considering that Rambam was known to have made some very strong anti-Karaite statements in his Letter to Yemen (although it is possible that Bashyatchi was unaware of the letter).

Rambam wrote:

“[B]e very careful and keep your eyes open lest any of the heretics [namely, the Karaites], may they be speedily destroyed, catch any of you, since that would be worse for you than apostasy...and know that it is permitted to slay them [the Karaites] in our opinion...”[8]

Evidently, Rambam was actually in favour of the death sentence for Karaites!

It even appears, from Rambam’s Commentary on the Mishna, that death sentences were actually carried out on some of the Karaites in Spain.[9]

WAS RAMBAM PRO OR ANTI-KARAITE?

Taking into consideration Bashyatchi’s claim, based on the Guide, that Rambam was a ‘secret Karaite’, and the above two Maimonidean sources depicting strong anti-Karaite rhetoric - was Rambam, in the words of Daniel Lasker a critic or a cultural hero of the Karaites?

THE DATING OF THE RAMBAM’S WRITING:

To answer this question we need to remember that Rambam’s anti-Karaite writings took place relatively early in his career. Rambam was born in 1135. His Letter to Yemen was written around 1172, and his Mishna Commentary was from around 1168. This placed Rambam in his early thirties when these anti-Karaite statements were made.

It does seem, however, that as he got older, he softened his stance against the Karaites.

RAMBAM’S LATER AND MORE TOLERANT WRITINGS:

In Rambam’s Mishneh Torah, written around 1180, he seems to regard Karaites (according to the printed texts) and heretics as victims of circumstances beyond their control, as if they were children taken captive by non-Jews and raised without any knowledge of their own heritage.[10]

Similarly, in one of Rambam’s responsa, he writes that as long as Karaites are respectful towards the tradition of Rabbinite sages, we too should be respectful towards them - and we may visit them in their homes, enjoy their wine, bury their dead and perform circumcision on their children even on Shabbat. 

Rabbi Kapach points out in his edition of the Rambam’s Commentary on the Mishna, that in Rambam’s own handwritten correctional notes in the margin, he himself had omitted the earlier reference to the death penalty for Karaites.

Besides Rambam changing his stance against Karaites as he got older, it is also possible that he became more tolerant of them after he had moved to Egypt around 1168 when he completed his Commentary on the Mishna, and saw just how integrated the Karaites were within the Egyptian Jewish community.

[For fragment evidence of interaction and even intermarriage[11] between Rabbinites and Karaites, see The Cairo Geniza.]

DID RAMBAM HAVE FIRST-HAND KNOWLEDGE OF KARAITES BEFORE MOVING TO EGYPT?

According to Daniel Lasker, it is possible that Rambam had never met Karaites before moving to Egypt - and his reference to executing Karaites in Spain (in his Mishna Commentary) may have been because the Spanish Karaite community, although quite vocally anti-Rabbinite, was very small and he may not have had first-hand association with them.[12] 

It is also unclear whether there even were Karaites living in Yemen at all, around the time Rambam sent his famous letter there.

KARAITES BEGIN ADOPTING RAMBAM AS THEIR ‘CULTURAL HERO’:

After Rambam had softened towards the Karaites, they correspondingly began to adopt more and more of his teachings into their literature.

13^th CENTURY:

AHARON BEN YOSEF HAROFEH:

The 13^th century Karaite halachic author, Aharon ben Yosef haRofeh, began to incorporate Maimonidean thought into Karaite texts.

14^th CENTURY:

AHARON BEN ELIYAHU:

The next authoritative Karaite who continued to incorporate Maimonides into his teachings, was Aharon ben Eliyahu (who was differentiated from his predecessor Aharon the Elder, by the title Aharon the Younger). He flourished in the 14^th century, and was so influenced by Maimonides that he was referred to as the ‘Karaite Maimonides’!

Aharon the Younger composed a work called Eitz Chaim which was a Karaite version of the Guide of the Perplexed.

He, for example, did not ascribe individual Divine Providence to animals but only to humans. This was in keeping with Rambam’s belief that G-d takes care of the various species or groups of animals, vegetation and inanimate matter as a whole but not of the individual within the cluster.

Thus hashgacha peratit (individual Divine Providence) applies only to humans - while hashagcha kelalit (general Divine Providence) would apply to all other creatures and also to inanimate objects.

[For more on this matter see ‘A Leaf Falls from a Tree’ – Accident or Providence?]

15^th CENTURY:

ELIYAHU BASHYATCHI:

The next major Karaite halachic decisor was the 15^th century Eliyahu Bashyatchi from whom we quoted at the beginning of the article, who claimed Rambam as one of their own and as a ‘secret Karaite’.

Daniel Lasker writes:

 “Taking things one step further, and turning Maimonides into a secret Karaite, was not such a large leap of faith for the Karaites who, in any event, were turning to the ‘Guide [of the Perplexed]’ for both religious and philosophical guidance.”

But amazingly, it was not only to the Guide of the Perplexed that the Karaites were turning, but even to Rambam’s halachic writings like the Mishneh Torah:

CALEV AFENDOPOLO:

Bashyatchi’s influential brother-in-law, Calev Afendopolo adopted the Rabbinite cycle of reading the Torah from Tishrei to Tishrei – thus changing the traditional Karaite custom which used to be from Nisan to Nisan.

In his Patshegen Ketav haDaat, he unexpectedly copies sections of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah verbatim.

Furthermore, Afendopolo’s treatment of the messianic era is also a copy of Rambam’s discussion of this matter in his various works.

The Karaites are now truly beginning to adopt Maimonidean texts.

18^th CENTURY:

SIMCHA YITZCHAK LUTSKI:

The Karaite leaders in the centuries that followed continued to heap praises on Rambam, and the 18^th century Simcha Yitzchak Lutski wrote:

“All the Torah laws which are written...are all collected by Maimonides...and he explained them at length in his great composition, called Yad haChazakah [or Mishneh Torah][13]. He who wishes to know them should look there.”

Referring to Simcha Yitzchak Lutski, Daniel Lasker makes the point that:

“He often made reference to Maimonides as an authoritative source of knowledge, blurring thereby the boundaries between Karaism and Rabbinism...

No preference is given to the Karaite worthies over the Rabbanite ones...

Lutski’s frequent explicit and implicit citations of Maimonides’ works throughout his own compositions indicate the central role Maimonides played in his thought.” 

THE KARAITE KABBALIST:

Fascinatingly, Simcha Yitzchak Lutski, who died in 1760 – the same year as the Baal Shem Tov passed away – also introduced mysticism and Kabbalah to the Karaites, making him an unusual Karaite Kabbalist.[14]

THE KARAITE SHIFT FROM RAMBAM TOWARDS KABBALAH:

During the early modern period, there appears to have been a shift away from the somewhat central role Rambam played in earlier Karaite thought. The reason given by Daniel Lasker is astonishing:

“If Maimonideanism was challenged by Karaites in the early modern period, it was because of the growing acceptance of the Kabbalah as an authoritative part of the Jewish tradition, even for Karaites.”

Thus we see that even Karaism was affected by a strong mystical influence in more recent times, to the detriment of the powerful Maimonidean rational, philosophical and even somewhat halachic influence of earlier times.

RAMBAM BECOMES A ‘SECRET KARAITE’ AND A ‘SECRET MYSTIC’:

In an astounding Karaite defence of Kabbalah over Rambam’s ‘rational anti-mysticism’, Simcha Yitzchak Lutski wrote:

“There is no doubt that had Maimonides...seen the Zohar which is the true wisdom of the Torah, received from the early sages of Israel...[who received it] from the prophets...he [Maimonides][15] would certainly have followed it...

\

Nevertheless, since [the Zohar] had not yet been revealed in his days, and he never saw it...he wrote that which he wrote.”

The Zohar was published about fifty years after Rambam’s passing. [See Mysteries behind the Origins of the Zohar.]

Most ironically, Simcha Yitzchak Lutski, the Karaite, agreed with some Rabbinite scholars who alleged that later in life, Rambam denounced his rationalism in favour of mysticism and became a mystic. [See Mysterious ‘Secret Document’ Attesting that Rambam was a Mystic.]

FROM PURITAN LITERALISTS TO SEMI-RAMBAMISTS TO MYSTICS:

Simcha Yitzchak Lutski also presented a most derisive denunciation of Maimonidean rationalism in favour of mysticism - unexpected from a Karaite - by his negative reference to Rambam as one who initially went outside of Judaism and “turned to the uncircumcised Greek philosophers...” instead of looking within.

This way the allure of the mystical tradition eventually even made inroads into the Karaite community.

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[1] See https://youtu.be/GzXjCOnXczo

[2] Maimonides and the Karaites: From Critic to Cultural Hero, by Daniel J. Lasker.

[3] Also known as Bashyazi.

[4] Adderet Eliyahu, p. 6a (Odessa 1870).

[5] The translation is by Pines, parenthesis mine.

[6] Guide of the Perplexed 1:59, Pines edition Chicago 1963, p. 140. The nature of the actual Talmudic statement will be dealt with in detail in the next article.

[7] Adderet Eliyahu, p. 3b.

[8] Rambam’s Epistle to Yemen,

[9] Rambam, Commentary on Mishna, Chulin 1:2

[10] MT Hilchot Mamrim, 3:1-3.

[11] Rambam did not, however, encourage intermarriage with Karaites, because while he recognized their marriages, he was suspicious of the legality of their divorces. This created the possibility that a second marriage might create illegitimate children as the new mother may still have been legally married to her first husband.

[12] See Karaism in Twelfth-Century Spain, by Daniel J. Lasker, p. 179-195.

[13] Parenthesis mine.

[14] See Simhah Isaac Lutski, an Eighteenth-Century Karaite Kabbalist, by Daniel J. Lasker.

[15] Parenthesis mine.

238) TOWARDS THE ORIGINS OF ‘CHAZAK CHAZAK VENITCHAZEK’:

INTRODUCTION:

In this article, we will look at the origins and intentions of the expression ‘chazak, chazak venitchazek’ (‘be strong, be strong, and we will become strong’) recited upon the conclusion of each of the five books of the Torah - as well as the popular ‘yasher koach’ (‘be of firm strength’) recited after each individual aliyah to the Torah.

A) ‘YASHER KOACH’:

ORIGINS:

The expression ‘yasher koach’ or more precisely ‘yiyasher kochacha’ has its origins in the Talmud[1] where, according to Reish Lakish, G-d approved of Moshe’s breaking the Tablets of the Ten Commandments on his descent from Mount Sinai. This view is derived from the expression ‘asher shibarta’ which refers to the Tablets ‘which you [Moses] broke’[2] – where G-d is said to have told Moshe ‘Strength to you that you broke them.’

And Rashi explains that ‘asher’ relates to ‘ishur’ where G-d 'approved' and was ‘happy’ that Moshe broke the tablets:

MYSTICAL MEANING:

In a more mystical sense ‘yasher koach’ is said to allude to the idea that one’s spiritual energy should be ‎’yashar’ or ‘straight and direct’ from its source in G-d to the recipient without deviating through ‘other negative spiritual areas’. 

This, however, may not be entirely accurate linguistically, as contrary to popular perception,  ‘yishar’ is not derived from the word ‎’yashar’ (straight) but rather from the word ‘sharar’ (strong/dominate).

READING WHILE HOLDING THE TORAH SCROLL UPRIGHT:

Another possible explanation as to the origins of this expression may be that during ancient times, the Torah was read while in an upright position so that the congregation could also see it (and not lying flat on a table, as we read it today[3]). It required much strength and energy from the Reader to hold it in that position, and he was rewarded with the blessing that his ‘koach’ or strength should continue.

In a similar vein, even today preparation for the correct vocalization of the Torah Reading takes much effort and practice, so that the blessing to continue in strength is most appropriate.

B) ‘CHAZAK, CHAZAK, VENITCHAZEK’:

ASHKENAZIM AND SEFARADIM:

Upon completing each of the Five Books of Moses, an Ashkenazi congregation shouts out ‘chazak, chazak venitchazek’ followed by the Torah Reader who repeats the same phrase. It wasn’t always recited only at the conclusion of a book, but originally it was said after each aliya (section of Torah reading). 

It is probable that this proved to be somewhat disruptive to the decorum of the service and was thereafter reserved, instead, to mark the completion of each book. In Italian synagogues, this phrase was only recited once a year on Simchat Torah, which marked the conclusion of all five books.

On the other hand in a Sefardi community, the expression ‘chazak u’varuch’ is often chanted out loud after every aliya, whether on Shabbat or a weekday.

‘CHAZAK, CHAZAK, CHAZAK’:

According to Aruch haShulchan, upon completing an entire book of the Torah, the formula ‘chazak, chazak venitchazek’ is indeed used by some, however, a better and more correct text would be ‘chazak, chazak, chazak’:[4]

 ‘CHAZAN VE’KAHAL’:

Another view holds that it is possible that the phrase ‘chazak, chazak venitchazek’ came about through a printing error. According to this view, the original phrase was a shorter ‘chazak venitchazek’ but it was prefaced with an instruction for the chazzan (prayer leader) ve’kahal (and the congregation) - chet zayin kuf - to recite the formula. 

This abbreviation was then misread as an extra ‘chazak’.

TEXTUAL EVIDENCE OF A DIFFERENT VOCALIZATION - ‘CHAZAK VENITCHAZAK’:

According to Professor Malachi Beit-Arié[5], based on the study of handwritten samples spanning the Middle Ages, there is evidence that in 348 instances, the copyists - at the end of their manuscripts - made use of the expression(where the word ‘chazak’ only occurs once).

With regard to the matter of whether the vocalization was ‘venitchazek’ or ‘venitchazak’, Beit-Arié shows that in 271 instances out of 348, ‘venitchazak’ was intended. 

This is because following that expression there was usually an elaborate and personalised prose which rhymed with ‘zak’ and not ‘zek’.

THE RHYMING COLOPHON:

Malachi Beit-Arié explains: 

(Translation mine):

“[T]he rhyming of the latter section of [the copyists] conclusion [of a manuscript], for example [states]:

 ‘Chazak venitchazak...[name of the copyist is inserted here] should not be harmed, and through the Torah will his heart be strengthened, and his eyes will shine like lightning [Bazak]’.

[This] supports the notion that the vocalization of ‘venitchazak’ is with a patach or kametz. [I.e. it should read venitchazak instead of venitchazek.]”

SHIFT IN EMPHASIS FROM WARRIOR TO RECLUSIVE SCHOLAR?

An original version of the expression is actually found within the Tanach, where the shorter version and correctly vocalized ‘chazak venitchazak’ is used by King David in his encouragement to his general Yoav before he went into battle:

 ‘Be strong and let us summon up our strength for the sake of our people and the towns of our G-d...’[6]

By somehow reworking this original expression from ‘venitchazak’ to ‘venitchazek’ in later generations, it may have signified a transformation from a previous emphasis on a blend of physical and spiritual strength to one of almost exclusive spiritual strength.

Accordingly, ‘venitchazak’ implies more of a ‘hands-on’ and direct encouragement to become materially successful in the physical and spiritual aspects of an endeavour – while ‘venitchazek’ implies a softer and a more expressly spiritual encouragement to the exclusion of the material. 

Even today, the phrase ‘to give chizuk’ usually refers to encouragement in matters of the spirit.

This ‘reworking’ was typical during the era following the calamitous Bar Kochba revolts around 135 CE where the rabbis felt that encouraging physical wars would only end in disaster for the Jewish people, and the focus was instead directed towards spiritual perfection and a general negation of not just wars but also involvement in the physical world.

“The brutal Roman defeat of the Jews in Judaea cannot be emphasized enough, as it is the pivotal historical event that led to, or forced, a major paradigm shift within the national Jewish psyche. With Bar Kochba’s defeat at Betar (135 C.E.) Jews’ self-identity as warrior was drastically shifted to one that was war-averse and assimilationist.”[7]

Similarly, we see that during the first century, R. Eliezer permits the carrying of a sword on Shabbat because at that time it was as common as an item of clothing - yet three generations later the Gemara interpreted a ‘sword’ to take on a metaphoric meaning for ‘sharp words of Torah’ and a sword was no longer a sword.

[For more on this transition process, see How Reality on the Ground Informs Perceptions of Heaven.]

Another ‘reworking’ may also have occurred regarding the Talmudic incident where Shamai thrust a sword into the Study Hall. While many commentators believed the students of Shamai actually killed (!) many of the students of Hillel, it was later interpreted as a metaphor for ‘robust debate’.

[See Did Beit Shamai Murder Some of the Students of Hillel?]

To this day we see evidence of this shift in paradigm where, in some circles, the warrior, worker and engager scholar has been replaced by the exclusive and reclusive scholar.

ANALYSIS:

The common expressions of ‘Yasher koach’ and ‘chazak, chazak venitchazek’ - inserted and recited at various junctures during the Torah reading - are more ‘folk’ based than empirically routed in texts.

Although we clearly see that the original biblical expression was indeed ‘chazak venitchazak’, and although there is historical evidence that most manuscript colophons ended with this same expression - it seems that the reworked version of ‘chazak, chazak venitchazek’ has nevertheless persisted into our printed editions today.

Is this a mere ‘typo’ or might there be some deeper fundamental motive alluding to a well-precedented shift in favour of an exclusively spiritual reality - without any blending of physical engagement - which can only be achieved by concluding works of Torah and disengagement from material reality?

Might this also be connected to the mystical interpretation[8] of the ubiquitous ‘yasher koach’ where we wish the energy to be exclusively ‎’yashar’ or ‘straight and direct’ from its source in G-d to us, without deviating through any worldly indulgence in the process?

[See also R. Gil Student’s article in Torah Musings.]

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[1] Shabbat 87a.

[2] Shemot 34:1.

[3] Some Sefardic communities read from a Sefer Torah placed in an upright stand.

[4] Orach Chaim 139:15.

[5] More on Hazak Hazak, by Malachi Beit- Arié (Hebrew).

[6] 2 Sam. 10:12.

[7] The De-Evolution of the Jewish Warrior, by N H Anderson. (Thesis).

[8] Although, as pointed out, this interpretation is linguistically incorrect, nevertheless the teaching and its implication are still held to be valid. (To be fair, there are some schools of Chassidut, for example, that do understand and theoretically encourage engagement with the physical realm.)

VIDEO OF KOTZKER REBBE'S BURIAL SITE:

Robbert Baruch visited the Ohel of the Kotzker Rebbe today and he kindly sent me these short videos.

He is on an epic motorcycle journey recreating an earlier 1931 trip visiting Torah centres from Vienna to Vilnius.

Robbert writes on his facebook site: 

'In 1931, a group of eminent rabbis, educators and journalists made a tour from Vienna to Vilnius to visit the achievements of the Jewish Orthodox Union Agudat Yisrael’s educational branches Keren Hatora and Beis Yaakov.

It was an amazing trip. They visited amazing yeshivas, summer camps and the biggest Rabbis of the time.

But in 1993 the tour leader, David Türkel, wrote:

“Nothing of that trip, which then made history, is left today or still of meaning. Not the participants, not the places we visited, not the Gedolim (great Rabbis) we met, not the institutions reviewed.”

This summer, I want to follow that trip as closely as possible.'

237) WHEN WAS THE TALMUD WRITTEN DOWN?

THE PAPER TRAIL:

The 1342 Munich Manuscript is the earliest extant copy of the Babylonian Talmud.

INTRODUCTION:

Any child with a basic Jewish education would know that the Mishna remained an oral tradition until around the year 200 CE when it was finally redacted by R. Yehudah haNasi - and three centuries later, the Gemara was redacted by Rav Ashi and his student Ravina (d. 499) around the year 500 CE.

From 500 CE onwards, both Mishna and Gemara combined to form the Talmud which remained in the same written form till this day.

In this article, we will first explore some rabbinic sources which differ from the model presented above - and thereafter, examine the manuscript evidence from that same period.

SECTION ONE - RABBINIC SOURCES:

R. ARYEH KAPLAN (1934-1983):

R. Aryeh Kaplan writes:

“There is a question as to when the Mishna was put in writing. 

Some authorities maintain that Rabbi Yehudah himself published it. 

According to others, however, it was preserved orally until several generations later.”[1]

Clearly, as R. Kaplan points out, there are sources which suggest that the Mishna was indeed written down in 200 CE but we are looking at those who propose it was written down sometime later. As to just how many ‘generations later’ the Talmud was actually committed to writing, remains an open question.

The Meiri, however, may shed some light on this matter:

MEIRI (1249-1310):

Although after the year 200 CE it was permitted to write down the Mishna, and after the year 500 CE, it was permitted to write down the Gemara - the combined Talmud continued to remain essentially an oral tradition for many centuries.

The Meiri writes about a group of sages known as Gaonin who lived between 650 and 1038, which was many centuries after the Talmudic period had concluded in the year 500: 

 “And they (the Geonim) knew the entire Talmud by heart, or close to it...And therefore they didn’t find it necessary to go on at length in their compositions [i.e. to write too much][2], for the explanation was all arranged in their mouths [i.e. in an oral tradition][3].”[4]

The Meiri is of the view that the writing of the Talmud takes place towards the end of the period of the Gaonim and just before the period of the Rishonim (around the year 1038). This places its practical transition from an oral to a written form, 500 years later than commonly believed!

RAV SHERIRA GAON (906-1006):

In 987 Rav Sherira Gaon wrote a letter to the Jews of Kairouan, now Tunisia, of which two versions -the Tsorfati (French) and Sefardi (Spanish) - exist today. In the French version of the letter, which is considered to be the most accurate, he writes: 

“And that which you [Jews of Kairouan] wrote; ‘How was the Mishna written, and how [was the] Talmud [written]?’

- The Talmud and Mishna were not written, but they were arranged.

 And the sages were careful to recite them by heart, but not from written versions.” [5]

According to this, the Talmud may have been ‘arranged’ earlier on, but fundamentally it remained an oral tradition right up to the end of the period of the Geonim around 1038.

THE COMMENTARIES OF RASHI AND THE TOSAFISTS:

Professor Fishman[6] develops the idea that soon after the close of the Gaonic period in 1038, Rashi (1038-1105) began to consolidate and unify the ‘relatively recently’ written down Talmud by preparing an overall commentary on it which would bind it all together. 

And continuing along the same lines, Rashi’s grandsons and students known as the Tosafists, began reconciling apparent contradictions between the various written sections of the Talmud - something which would not have been required while it was in its previous oral form.

It seems to make sense that these first comprehensive commentaries only started appearing once the Talmud was finally committed to written form, otherwise, we should have seen similar commentaries surfacing from 500 years earlier.

-The above are just some of the sources which imply that the Talmud was only written down in full, sometime (give or take a century or so) towards the close of the Gaonic period around 1038).

[For more details, see Everyone Knows When the Talmud was written Down.]

SECTION TWO – FORENSIC PALEOGRAPHY:

THE PAPER TRAIL:

Let us now turn our attention to manuscript evidence from this same period and see where that leads:

The earliest full manuscript of the Babylonian Talmud is known as the Munich Talmud, and it dates from as late as 1342.[7]

What exactly transpired textually during the many centuries between the year 500 - when the completed Talmud was said to have been committed to writing - and 1342 is a hotly debated issue.

Professor Malachi Beit-Arié is the head of the Hebrew Paleography Project which has examined and documented nearly all extant Hebrew manuscripts in about 250 libraries throughout the world.

He has spent sixty years studying Hebrew manuscripts. 

Based on his extensive research[8], we will briefly examine the development of rabbinic texts around this period and see what bearing this all has on the question of when the Talmud was written down.

THE EMERGENCE OF THE CODEX:

The complexity of the medieval codex (handwritten manuscripts bound together in a book-form) as opposed to the more ancient scroll, should not be underestimated in terms of its technology. The codex was the speciality of the preindustrial era and is considered to be “one of the most complex products manufactured during the Middle Ages.”

A codex comprises a number of quires (sheets of folded parchment) of bifolia (pages with writing on both sides) which is then sewn and bound together to form a book allowing easy and quick access to all the pages - unlike the scroll whose different sections are harder to access because it has to be laboriously rolled from one side to the other.

The codex is also more resilient and is easier to transport and to archive than the more ancient scroll.    

        

The codex and its revolutionary impact shaped the thought development within the Jewish world at that time.

Beit-Arié explains that:

“In the regions where Hebrew Books were produced during the Middle ages we witness an entire configuration of traditions, patterns, and practices which were preserved continuously for hundreds of years...”

ADOPTING THE CODEX IN PLACE OF THE SCROLL:

The Christians adopted the codex in place of scrolls from around 300 CE.

The general, non-Christian or ‘pagan’ world started adopting the codex from around 500 CE. 

The Jews, however, transitioned to the codex much later, from the early Gaonic Period around 700 CE and even later.

This is borne out by a statement by Rashi (1038-1105):

“The books that were [in existence] in the days of the [earlier Talmudic] Sages were all in the form of our Torah scrolls.”[9]

This indicates that certainly during the Talmudic period (0-500 CE) and possibly even for about two centuries after that, we were still using scrolls and had not yet started using codices.

THE MYSTERIOUS GAP OF 800 YEARS:

Beit-Arié describes an uncertain period of 800 years between about 100 BCE to 700 CE:

“An obscure and puzzling gap of some eight hundred years exists between the abundant finds of Hebrew books dating from the late antiquity (namely the Dead Sea Scrolls dating from the Hellenistic and early Roman period) and the earliest explicitly dated surviving Hebrew codices.

From that period in time there is hardly any extant evidence of the Hebrew book apart from a few dozen surviving fragments...”

This shows that for about 800 years - until 700 CE - there is virtually no trace of Hebrew writings.

[For more on early rabbinic texts, see The Italian Geniza.]

A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION:

Beit-Arié (citing Roberts and Skeat) explains that while Jews would have maintained the scroll format for copying Sifrei Torah - because such copying was governed by strict laws - Christians, on the other hand, had no problem copying their scriptures in the newer codex form.

However, once the codex was adopted by the Christians in 300 CE, the Jews were then reluctant to emulate that format (even for non-scriptural writings) and the scroll format was therefore perpetuated for some centuries longer.

The first time clearly datable Hebrew codices begin to appear is from the beginning of the 900s (although, as mentioned, their origins can be traced back to the 700s)![10]

WHY NO EVIDENCE OF SCROLLS DURING THOSE 800 YEARS?

Having established a possible reason as to why there is no codex record, the question then is why is there no significant scroll record (which, as Rashi pointed out, was favoured by rabbinic literature over codices) either?

This question becomes compounded when we see that thousands of Latin and Greek manuscripts have indeed survived that same era.

BECAUSE IT WAS AN ‘ORAL TRADITION’:

The answer must lie in the fact that rabbinic and Talmudic literature during that time period was essentially transmitted orally. This is corroborated by the very designation of that rabbinic literature as the ‘Oral Tradition’.

However, now we encounter a fascinating difficulty:

BUT THE PROSCRIPTION AGAINST COMMITTING THE ORAL TRADITION TO WRITING ENDED IN 200 CE?

Although Beit- Arié does not go into the details, the problem - as pointed out - is that according to popular perception, the Mishna was committed to writing around the year 200, and the Talmud was committed to writing around the year 500.

If that popular understanding was to be the case, then surely there should at least be some (albeit) scroll evidence of the Mishna and Talmud from the latter segment of that 800 year period, after the year 500!

And it would have been a vast literature, because besides the Mishna and Talmud, the writings of that period would have additionally included Tosefta, Talmud Yerushalmi, Midrashim and the mystical Heichalot compositions as well.

There also would have been sufficient time - 500 years at least - to create a ‘paper trail’ certainly from the end of the Mishna period in 200 CE when permission was granted to put texts down in writing. Additionally, there are still at least two centuries for the same to have occurred with regard to the Talmud which was completed in 500 CE!

So why is there hardly any evidence of any written literature during this time when the era of an exclusive Oral Tradition had apparently officially terminated?

THE SPIKE BETWEEN 900 TO 1400:

On the other hand, from the beginning of the 900s (and possibly even slightly earlier) until the end of the 1400s (when printing was invented) the number of manuscripts and fragments suddenly rise to as high as 100,000.

And Beit-Arié is quick to point out that this larger number only represents “a small proportion of the manuscripts produced in that era.” Colette Sirat estimates that the actual number of manuscripts produced during that time (although not surviving) would have been as high as about one million.

What suddenly changed around the year 900 CE that the ‘paper trail’ begins to spike after such a long plateau?

A SOLUTION:

To answer this question, we have to turn to the writings of the later Gaonim (650-1038).

Beit-Arié says:

“[U]ntil the beginning of the Gaonic period, Hebrew literary creations were for the most part transmitted orally, at least till they had reached their final editing and perhaps even later.[11]

The continued use of the scroll, which made searching very cumbersome, seems to have conformed to a reality in which putting a text in writing was either prohibited or strictly limited to a small number of copies, so as to monitor the text and preserve it.

The adoption of the codex by the Jews could take place only after the attitude towards text dissemination had changed, and after the shift from oral to visual transmission.”

According to this, the period and practice of oral transmission did not end with the Mishna in 200 CE nor with the Talmud in 500 CE. While some private scrolls (the codex was only adopted after 700) may have been produced after the proscription ended, essentially the Talmud continued to be transmitted orally right up until the latter part of the Gaonic period around 900 CE.

Amazingly - based on rabbinic sources as well as forensic palaeography - all this information flies in the face of how the transition from Oral to Written Tradition is generally taught. The popular perception appears to be out by centuries.





ADDENDUM:

According to Talya Fishman:

"Testimonies such as the tenth century Epistle of Sherira Gaon, which insists that Mishna and
Talmud have been preserved and transmitted, not in written form, but by means of oral recitation, and the assertion by the Gaon Aaron Sarjado in the same century, that “most students in the academy do not know what a book is,” have led scholars to conclude that Talmud remained an orally-transmitted corpus of tradition throughout the Geonic period, that is, between the seventh and eleventh centuries."

Fascinatingly, Fishman also weaves in the possibility of secular trends also having an effect of the committing of previously oral texts to writing. These trends were taking place in the world at the same time:

"Many political, economic, demographic and theological developments have been cited as factors contributing to this shift [from oral to written traditions - parenthesis mine]: conditions of civil stability following centuries of barbarian conquest, culminating in the eschatologically-motivated Peace of God; the growth of cities, local economies and bureaucracies; increased contact between people of different regions and heightened awareness of the variety of legal norms; the Gregorian Reform and establishment of Cathedral Schools; and the Investiture controversy. Whatever its causes, however, I wish to stress that the textualization of medieval northern Europe was not a “Christian” development, but a theologically-neutral one, akin perhaps, to a shift in modes of technology."

(Rhineland Pietist Approaches to Prayer and the Textualization of Rabbinic Culture 
in Medieval Northern Europe, by Talya Fishman, p.11.)

---

[1] Handbook of Jewish Thought, by Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan p.188

[2] Parenthesis mine.

[3] Parenthesis mine.

[4] See Becoming the People of the Talmud, by Talya Fishman p. 165.

[5] Iggeret Rav Sherira Gaon.

[6] See Becoming the People of the Talmud, by Talya Fishman

[7] The Leiden Codex of 1289 (printed by Daniel Bomberg in 1523) is the oldest extant copy of the Talmud Yerushalmi.

[8] HEBREW CODICOLOGY Historical and Comparative Typology of Hebrew Medieval Codices based on the Documentation of the Extant Dated Manuscripts Using a Quantitative Approach, by Malachi Beit-Arié.

[9] Rashi to Megillah 19a.

[10] Beit-Arié, however, also points out that these early Hebrew codices do show a degree of craftsmanship which indicates an apparent established tradition.

[11] Emphasis mine. This places us around the year 900 CE.