Hakham Tsevi Ashkenazi and the
Battlegrounds of the Early Modern Rabbinate (Littman Library, 2024), by
Yosie Levine
Reviewed by Rabbi Reuven Chaim
Klein (Rachack Review)
With the recent 2024 “pogrom” in
Amsterdam casting a grim shadow over the Dutch city’s reputation, this book
serves as a poignant reminder of a bygone era when Amsterdam stood as a beacon
of religious tolerance. In the 17th and 18th centuries,
this city was a sanctuary for Jews from across Europe and the Ottoman Empire,
boasting vibrant Sephardic and Ashkenazic communities. Descendants of Sephardic
Jews expelled from the Iberian Peninsula, Ashkenazi Jews escaping the horrors
of the Chmielnicki massacres that started in 1648, and others who had run into
trouble in their homelands for various reasons (like Ramchal, who was forced to
leave Italy if he wanted to continue teaching his brand of Kabbalah) all found
a safe-haven in Amsterdam. It was within this milieu that Rabbi Tzvi Ashkenazi rose
to prominence.
Rabbi Tzvi Ashkenazi (1658–1718)
was a Rosh Yeshiva and (briefly) the Chief Rabbi of the Ashkenazi community in
Amsterdam, whose literary legacy has been cemented by his responsa Chacham
Tzvi. In this book, Yosie Levine offers a meticulously-researched and highly
engaging intellectual biography of Rabbi Ashkenazi, exposing him as one of the
most fascinating figures of early modern Jewish history. Levine adeptly
situates Rabbi Ashkenazi’s life and works within the broader context of Jewish
social, intellectual, and rabbinic history.
Raised by an Ashkenazi family
living in Ottoman-occupied Old Buda (part of which later became Budapest),
Rabbi Ashkenazi’s surname was actually Zak (which the author tells us in the
last chapter is actually an acronym for the Hebrew phrase zera kodesh,
“[of] holy seed”). Rabbi Ashkenazi spent much of his early life immersed in
Sephardic rabbinic centers elsewhere in the Ottoman Empire (such as Salonica
and Constantinople), experiences that informed his unique position at the
crossroads of Ashkenazic and Sephardic traditions. In fact, despite his
Ashkenazic heritage, Rabbi Ashkenazi was often referred to with the traditional
Sephardic honorific “Chacham,” rather than the more Ashkenazic title “HaRav.”
Levine unpacks this fascinating aspect of Rabbi Ashkenazi’s dual identity,
including the enigmatic samekh-tet acronym that Rabbi Ashkenazi appended
to his signature (which is traditionally interpreted as Sefardi tahor, “pure
Sephardi”).
The book excels in its
exploration of Rabbi Ashkenazi’s tumultuous tenure as Chief Rabbi of Amsterdam,
where his unyielding stance against Sabbateanism, intermarriage, and the
encroachments of lay leadership on rabbinic authority placed him at odds with
powerful factions within the city. In that context, Rabbi Ashkenazi was not
afraid to stand up to the emerging lay leadership who were growing in influence
and became increasingly audacious in flouting rabbinic authority.
The author dedicates a
particularly compelling and comprehensive chapter to the infamous Nechemiah
Chiyya Chayyun (1655-1730) affair, where Rabbi Ashkenazi’s efforts to ostracize
a known Sabbatian heretic and ban his books ultimately led to his forced
departure from Amsterdam. Although Rabbi Ashkenazi garnered the support of
rabbis outside of Amsterdam, the city’s lay leadership and the Sephardic
rabbinic leadership supported Chayyun, which eventually forced Rabbi Ashkenazi
to flee Amsterdam for London. These dramatic conflicts are vividly brought to
life, illustrating the challenges of maintaining rabbinic authority in a
rapidly-evolving Jewish diaspora on the cusp of modernity.
Levine does not limit his study
to biography alone. He skillfully weaves Rabbi Ashkenazi’s Halachic responsa
into the narrative, presenting them as windows into the broader “rabbinic
republic of letters.” This network connected Jews from London all the way in
the west to White Russia (modern-day Belarus) and Ukraine in the east, crisscrossing
through Amsterdam and Hamburg where Rabbi Ashkenazi served, and including the
rest of Germany, Italy, and even Crete. Rabbi Ashkenazi’s sphere of rabbinic
influence spanned the entirety of Ashkenazi Jewry, and he eventually took up a
prestigious rabbinic position in Lemberg (modern-day Lviv, Ukraine) not long
before his death in 1718.
As a work that focuses on social and
intellectual history, this book does not delve much into the pilpulistic, stated
reasons for Rabbi Ashkenazi’s rulings, but instead focuses on the broader
implications and ramifications of those decisions. Indeed, while the author refrains
from delving deeply into the legal minutiae of Rabbi Ashkenazi’s rulings, he does
emphasize their broader implications for Jewish communal life and authority. This
book contextualizes some of Rabbi Ashkenazi’s Halachic responsa, including
those dealing with questions as diverse as the permissibility of counting a golem
in a minyan, the kashrut of a “heartless” chicken, and the
observance of two days of Yom Tov by diaspora Jews visiting the Holy
Land. In doing so, Levine illustrates how the ramifications of these questions
and the ways in which Rabbi Ashkenazi framed the legal discussions still have
implications for contemporary times.
Recurring issues explored in this
book delve into some of the most pressing and contentious debates of Rabbi
Ashkenazi's times, many of which, again, continue to resonate in rabbinic
discourse today. Levine examines the question of when rabbis have the authority
to issue halachic rulings on matters that fall outside of their official geographic
jurisdiction (especially when those questions were already decided upon by
local rabbinic authorities). That question — precipitated by the development of
a reliable postal system — is a topic that not only shaped communal dynamics in
Rabbi Ashkenazi’s time, but also affected him personally and raised broader
questions about the boundaries of rabbinic influence in a rapidly globalizing
Jewish world. The book also grapples with the complexities of adjudicating
inter-rabbinic disputes, highlighting how disagreements over halachic and
ideological matters often became flashpoints for larger communal tensions and
political power struggles.
Another key issue discussed is
the permissibility of disseminating esoteric Kabbalistic teachings to the
broader public. This debate, exacerbated by the invention of the printing press
which could mass produce books on an unprecedented scale, is situated at the
intersection of theology and pedagogy. It reflects the ongoing tension between
maintaining the sanctity of mystical traditions and responding to the spiritual
needs of a diverse and often fragmented Jewish populace. Levine provides
insightful analysis into how Rabbi Ashkenazi navigated this delicate terrain,
weighing the risks of misinterpretation against the potential benefits of wider
dissemination. Essentially, Rabbi Ashkenazi took up the elitist view that allowed
him to personally study and master Kabbalah, while restricting knowledge of its
secrets to the initiated.
Another question explored by this
book is the precise definition of what it meant to be a Sabbatian during a
period of heightened fear and division within the Jewish world. Levine explores
the multifaceted nature of this identity, questioning whether a Sabbatian was
defined strictly by participation in antinomian practices, by adherence to
messianic or Sabbatian ideologies, by social affiliation with known Sabbatians,
or even just by financial support of individuals or causes associated with the heretical
movement. Through this nuanced discussion, Levine illuminates the far-reaching
implications of these definitional struggles for both individuals and
communities, as well as for the broader fabric of Jewish life in early modern
Europe.
This book’s approach makes it both
accessible to general readers and invaluable to scholars. By drawing on a
wealth of duly footnoted and referenced sources, especially the writings of
Rabbi Ashkenazi’s son, Rabbi Yaakov Emden (sometimes known as Yaavetz),
Levine enriches the narrative with scholarly and historical insights.
Ultimately, this work — based on Levine’s doctoral dissertation in Jewish
History at Yeshiva University — is a masterful feat of writing, blending scholarly
rigor with readability. It paints a vivid portrait of a towering rabbinic
figure and his turbulent times, while drawing connections to enduring
challenges in contemporary Jewish communal life. This reviewer sincerely hopes that
Rabbi Levine will continue to produce more intellectual biographies of the gedolim
of yesteryear in the same style.
