The first volume of Rabbi Benny Lau’s popular work on the sages of the Rabbinic period has been translated into English. The Sages: Character, Context, and Creativity is being published by Koren.

I came to the United States on February 11, 1947, as part of a group of orphaned children under the age of eighteen—my papers were ready in Germany before I actually became eighteen—who were brought to this country for adoption under the auspices of Eleanor Roosevelt, who headed a committee for children found in the European theater of war.I remember that we arrived at midday and were taken to an orphanage on Caldwell Avenue in the Bronx, where they served us cold milk.I still savor the taste; after years of starvation, to be able to drink as much cold milk as one wanted was a memorable event. But then in the evening they served a dinner with meat, and the question of Jewish dietary laws came up.If I remember correctly, out of fifteen children, three ate kosher, and they followed my lead. They were in a precarious psychological state, and I worried about them. (One of these children, by the name of Rosenfeld, jumped to his death from a building a few months later.)

I wanted to make sure the meat was kosher, and the director obliged me by bringing in a young man who supervised the kitchen to see that it conformed to the dietary laws. The young man, I later found out, was from one of the right-wing yeshivot, Torah VeDaath, but he had no beard. It was the first time I had seen a rabbi without a beard, so naturally I had some hesitation about his supervision. Since I was very hungry and anxious to eat, as were the people following me, I tested him by asking him a question on the law. I was already ordained and asked him the kind of question I would have been asked in Sighet, an interpretation of a text that is part of a commentary on the Shulchan Aruch, which we had to study for ordination. The commentary was called Peri Megadim, and I subsequently learned that rabbinical students in the United States did not study it as intensively as we did in Europe.

I asked the young man the question and he did not know the answer. His not knowing made me doubt his reliability, and we did not eat. The incident proved to be embarrassing to the management. The place had a reputation for being strictly kosher and we, who had come from Europe, from concentration camps, did not want to eat there. We also had a problem of language. We couldn’t talk to the orphanage staff because we did not know English well enough. Someone had the bright idea to bring in a social worker who could speak Yiddish to try to convince us to eat. They brought a social worker by the name of Shulamit Halkin, granddaughter of the Netziv, who also happened to be the sister-in-law of Professor Saul Lie berman, the scion of a famous scholarly family in Lithuania. She spoke a different Yiddish, Lithuanian Yiddish— I was more accustomed to Galician Yiddish. She addressed herself earnestly to me. But speaking Yiddish is no guarantee, no certificate of kashrut, of meeting the dietary requirements. We had to go to sleep without eating meat. But she had asked me, “If I take you to the person who I think is the greatest Talmud scholar, will you go?”

I said, “Of course I’ll go.”

The next morning, February 12, 1947, she took me to Professor Lieberman’s home. I was enormously impressed by his erudition, which probably was unrivaled by that of any living scholar. Even when he didn’t want to impress, he was impressive. This time he wanted to impress. He wanted to make sure that I would eat. He explained that the meat was kosher even though the fellow who supervised didn’t know how to answer my question. After a few hours of discussion, he sent me back to the orphanage, where we stayed for a few more days and then were sent to another orphanage; and we ate, of course.

From this first, long discussion with Professor Lieberman that day, concerning Talmudic subjects, I remember only one “Tosafot”, a passage of medieval commentary on the Babylonian Talmud, on Tractate Chulin 97a, in which I had the upper hand because I remembered it better than he did.At the time he did not say anything. But as I left —when I was already at the door and turned back to thank him again—I noticed that he had taken out the Chulin folio of the Talmud, turned to the first page, and begun to study.I asked him “Why Chulin?” and he answered, “If I forgot one Tosafot, who knows how many others I may also have forgotten?” Erudition is a steady endeavor.

(pp. 78-81)

When I heard Prof. Halivni tell the story he added that when he saw Prof. Lieberman he thought to himself “another clean-shaven man.” He also gave some more details of their learning, how they gradually realized that the other was very learned.

Many of their criticisms, however, are merely semantic, or in the quest of unnecessary definitions.

A criticism of the critics which was echoed later to some degree by Yaakov Sussman.

In a way Sussman’s greatest criticism of Baalei ha-Tosafot is the one offered by J.N. Epstein in a review (Tarbitz, of Urbach’s earlier German work Die Enstehung und Redaktion unserer Tossafot (“The Origin and Redaction of Our Tosafot”). Epstein’s criticism of Urbach is that he doesn’t distinguish enough between the French and German schools of the Tosafot. Urbach saw the world of the Tosafot, both in France and Germany, as one big cultural-intellectual world, while Epstein saw the need to separate the two and to examine and understand them separately. Sussman feels that Urbach was aware of the importance to distinguish between the two, yet he was originally interested in “our Tosafot”, meaning the Tosafot on the page of the Talmud and not in their history before they were edited with that product being reproduced on the traditional page of Talmud. Of all the other criticisms of Urbach’s work, much of which we have already written about, Sussman feels there isn’t much to them. While he does feel that most of the critique of Urbach’s work was based on personal preferences and scholarly predispositions (he describes them as “בעניינים של טעם והשקפה” [p. 47]), Sussman feels that there are important methodological differences which must be pointed out. First of all, most of the reviewers of were historians, and Urbach did not set out to write a book of social history or history of the halakhah, but rather a literary history of the Tosafistic literature. In addition Sussman feels that many of the reviewers were uncomfortable with Urbach’s personal-psychological analysis of some of the Tosafists and their halakhic opinions, and the humanization of Torah sages. Sussman says that nobody brought any instance where Urbach got his facts wrong, it is just the interpretation or methodology which they disagreed with. Returning to Epstein’s criticism, Sussman feels that Urbach never really responded to this critique. Sussman’s own opinion seems to closer to that of Epstein, feeling that a large portion, if not all, of the Ashkenazi Tosafot had very little, if any, contact with France. Things only began to change in the generation of R. Isaac Meir of Vienna (the author of the Or Zarua). For Sussman, the job of scholars today is to examine more closely the relationship and differences between the German and French Tosafot, and also the differences within Germany itself.

This final point is also stressed by I.M. Ta-Shema in a 25-year restrospective on Baalei ha-Tosafot. For Ta-Shema, Urbach was never willing to budge from his treatment of the Tosafot in France and Germany as an organic whole. T-Shema also stresses that even though Urbach utilized a great number of MSS for his work, it is still important to examine MSS of the Tosafot which were unavailable to Urbach.

Sources:

Yaacov Sussman, “E.E. Urbach: A Bio-Bibliography” in Supplement to Jewish Studies no. 1, 1993; I.M. Ta-Shema, “Baalei ha-Tosafot: Twenty-five years Later” in Jewish Studies 41.

Probably one of the more critical reviews of Baalei haTosafot is that penned by Irving Agus in JQR 46,4, April 1956. While also pointing out the importance of Urbach’s work, Agus’s review is almost entirely a scathing criticism of the book. It should be pointed out that Urbach had previously reviewed Agus’s Teshuvot Baalei haTosafot (Kiryat Sefer 30, pp. 200-205=Mechkarim beMada’ei haYahadut, pp. 771-777) and had some harsh criticism for a number of his interpretations. Agus’s criticism of Urbach’s book focuses on two points. The first is that Urbach often brings large excerpts from texts, often without interpreting them, and when he does interpret them and attempt to draw historical conclusions, they are more often than not wrong.

Indeed, it is in the field of genealogy and history of literature, that Urbach has made valuable contributions. When, however, he attempts to appraise the literature itself, to interpret the text of his material, or to delve into the historical significance of the legal or personal statements made by the Tosaphists, he often meets with difficulty. In order to surmount this difficulty, he resorts to lengthy, direct quotations, allowing the sources to speak for themselves, without any attempt on his part at rigorous, scientific interpretation of these quotations; he merely makes very vague introductory remarks…

The greater part of the book is thus filled with lengthy quotations loosely strung together with hardly a unifying thought or logical connection between them…Thus he occasionally does express an opinion on a text, an opinion that requires understanding of the text itself, and he thereby reveals that he has had difficulty with it.

Hardly kind words to say the least. Agus often combines together a feeling of appreciation at the work that Urbach produced with extreme criticism.

One reads this large book, the result of enormous labor and concentration (it took the author 22 years to write it), and one looks in vain for an illuminating idea, for an inspired thought that would show deep historical comprehension.

Or,

Urbach may do very well as an historian of genealogy and literature, but he is no historian in the broader sense of the word; he can not evaluate correctly political, social and economic factors in the maelstrom of history nor the force and scope of historical movements and development.

Agus ends by emphasizing that in no way should people not use the book, just that they should be aware of its problems and use it with caution.

The third review of Baalei HaTosafot which we will write about is that of Jacob Katz (Kiryat Sefer 31=Halakhah veKabbalah, 340-352). Without a doubt one of the most influential Jewish historians of the 20th century, Katz’s writings are some of the most important in the field of the history of Jewish Law. Early in his review Katz admits that there are some topics in Urbach’s book which he will not touch upon, since he doesn’t feel that his level of competence allows him to comment upon them. Instead Katz chooses to focus on Urbach’s methodology in the study of halakhah, and specifically Urbach’s comparative analysis between the Tosafot and non-Jewish literature. Katz criticizes Urbach for not addressing the issue of influence, and says that Urbach seems to be content with saying that what is common is the external textual framework between the two, comments upon a text. This doesn�t really add to any better historical understanding of the Tosafot�s methodology. Katz asks as to what the use of comparison is if one does not address the question of influence. One can say that there wasn’t any influence, but that has to be proven. Katz also critiques Urbach’s claim that common conditions brought about both the Tosafot and the Glossators, but Katz asks what were those common conditions and how did they result in these phenomenon? In general Katz feels that Urbach’s comparative analysis is haphazard and lacking in direction. Katz says that Urbach is comparing the Tosafot to other types of literature when he hasn’t even explained the origins of the Tosafot.

Another criticism of Urbach is that he calls the method of the Tosafot �critical-dialectic�, but Katz says that Urbach never really defines what he means by this term. Katz also criticizes Urbach for giving psychological explanations for halakhic disagreements, saying that a historian should point out the disagreement while a psychologist should try and explain it. I felt that much of Katz’s criticism is that Urbach is using methodologies which he is either not competent in using, doesn’t use responsibly, or are inappropriate for his study. Katz concluded by saying that with a book as comprehensive as Baalei HaTosafot, it is impossible to comment upon many of the specific claims made in the work, rather “essentially the job of the review is only to establish the place of the work within the history of scholarship and to note the direction which it takes.�

The second review of E.E. Urbach’s Baalei HaTosafot which we would like to write about is that of Prof. Isadore Twersky (Tarbitz 26). Twersky begins his review by saying that the 19th century scholars who wrote about the Tosafot seemed unable to get beyond biographical and bibliographical information. Twersky feels that they may have had a spritual reticence to dealing with questions regarding the history of halakhah. This phenomenon was also mentioned in H.H. Ben-Sasson’s review and may point to a larger question about the agenda and limits of 19th century practitioners of Wissenschaft. Twersky is thankful for Urbach having set the record straight regarding a number of mistaken assumptions that were made by earlier scholars. One of them was claim by Avigdor (Victor) Aptowitzer that there were two books with the name Mahzor Vitry which were written by two different students of Rashi. Another was that R. Shemayah was one of Rashi’s grandsons (Twersky assumes that this was Zunz’s theory).

Despite Twersky’s praise for Urbach’s book, he has no small amount of criticism. One of his criticisms was methodological. Twersky feels that Urbach emphasizes too much the historical-psychological profiles of the Tosafot, sometimes to the neglect of the analysis of certain halakhic issues. The emphasis on the individual/psychological does an injustice to the internal halakhic development. This last comment was also mentioned in Ben-Sasson’s review, that one should not neglect the importance of internal halakhic development and rely too much on explanations of external factors as the cause for halakhic development.

The second area of criticism is Urbach’s comparing the work of the Tosafot to that of the glossators of Roman Law. Twersky does not object to comparative analysis, but he has two strong criticisms of Urbach. The first is that he feels Urbach hasn’t explained well enough the origins and nature of the Tosafot’s method, and he already wants to compare it to another system of interpretation. Twersky feels that first one must explain in a more satisfactory manner the origins of the methods of the Tosafot before one compares them to another method of study. In addition Twersky feels that the Tosafistic enterprise and that of the glossators is of a different nature and there is very little room for comparison between them. A better comparison might have been between Rabbeinu Tam and Gratian, the author of the first authoritative book of Canon Law, the Decretum.

One last thing about this review. Prof. Twersky was 27 years old when he wrote this review and it shows how already then he was one of the leading scholars of medieval rabbinic literature.

Update: I forgot to mention that in Prof. Ephraim Kanarfogel’s opinion, as a result of Twersky’s critique, Urbach made some changes to Baalei HaTosafot in a subsequent edition. See his Jewish Education and Society in the High Middle Ages, p. 168, n. 27.

As with every review of Urbach’s book, Ben-Sasson praises the work as a monumental achievement which is the result of meticulous scholarship and devotion. Ben-Sasson raises an issue which was touched upon by a number of the reviewers and that is the almost complete absence in Jewish scholarship of works examining the history of halakhah. The scholars of Wissenschaft wrote many works dealing with biography and bibliography, the halakhists and halakhic works, but nobody really examined the history of the halakhah itself. Ben-Sasson feels that there was a hesitancy from scholars to subject the halakhah to the same scholarly examination that was used for other types of literature. He comments that only someone who loved the material like Urbach did could have devoted so much time and effort in order to produce such a work. Ben-Sasson comments that it seems that Urbach would in some way want the same creativity and freshness that he saw in the period of the Tosafot to be renewed in today�s world. About these feelings of Urbach Ben Sasson says, �Rather he knows that scientific objectivity does not tolerate declarations about aspirations, and about this he struggles with himself.�

There are a number of areas in which Ben-Sasson finds Urbach’s analysis lacking. The first is that Urbach ignored one of the most important genres of literature from the period and that is the communal enactments, Takkanot haTzibbur. Ben-Sasson feels that the picture which Urbach paints of the communal authority and place of the Tosaphists can only be partial without examining these communal enactments. Another critique which was cited by others is Urbach’s historical analysis. Ben-Sasson finds it scattered, and when it does appear it often breaks up the flow of the discussion, and also it is often incorrect.

One facet of the book which was criticized by everyone was Urbach’s comparing the work of the Tosafot to the of the Glossators and Scholastics. It was not that comparative analysis is improper, just that they all felt Urbach failed at it. After much discussion of the Glossators and Scholastics Urbach concludes that there was no influence, just a common intellectual environment. Ben-Sasson criticizes Urbach and says that there are numerous other types of literature being written which might have proved better material for comparative analysis. In addition, the argumentative analysis is so prevalent in Europe at the time that it is difficult to think that there was no influence. In addition, instead of comparing Rabbein Tam to Abelard, Ben-Sasson says that a better figure to compare him to might have been Bernard of Clairvaux.

Ben-Sasson also critiques what he sees as Urbach’s over emphasis on seeing the instances where the Tosafot, and Rabbeinu Tam in particular, enacted intentional changes or innovations as their defining intellectual character traits (the discussion continues). One does not only have to examine their overt statements about change and innovation to try and build an intellectual portrait, the totality of their work must be examined in order to build such a portrait.

Lastly, the question was raised by Ben-Sasson as to what was the cause of the radical new method of study that was employed by the Tosafot. Urbach never gave a clear answer, and any attempt that he made was rejected by Ben-Sasson as inadequate. Ben-Sasson claims that in reality their method was not so new, rather the new historical circumstances brought about by Rashi’s commentary to the Talmud-a democratization of Talmud study with the Talmud now accesible to many new students-forced teachers to write down and use more often exegetical methods which had been used in the past.