חדש באתר: עוזר בינה מלאכותית המבוסס על כתביו ושיעוריו של הרב מיכאל אברהם

Ketubot, Chapter 2, Lesson 6

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This is an English translation (via GPT-5.4). Read the original Hebrew version.

This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

Table of Contents

  • The dispute between Rashi and Tosafot about the basis of ha-peh she-asar
  • Ha-peh she-asar as a stronger migo: mah li leshaker and the force of a claim
  • Ha-peh she-asar undermines stable possession and explains migo used to extract
  • Two mechanisms that are not migo: “Don’t use the power I gave you” and a package deal
  • Plaginan dibura and the rule that testimony is not accepted in halves
  • Examples of “wrongful birth” and the analogy to migo d’i bai shtik
  • The distinction between evidence and power: the “Bibi” example and the mouth that permits
  • The Mishnahs and the Talmud on page 22: a married woman, a captive woman, and “I gave my daughter to this man”
  • Reasoning as Torah-level law and the interpretation of “Judge your fellow with righteousness”
  • Rabbi Akiva Eiger and Kovetz Shiurim on “I was taken captive and I am pure” and self-imposed prohibition
  • Beit Yaakov: the source of migo versus the source of ha-peh she-asar, and retroactive migo
  • Interim conclusion: an upgraded migo or a different mechanism

Summary

General Overview

The lecture continues clarifying the mechanism of ha-peh she-asar and why it is preferred over ordinary migo, focusing on the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot over whether its basis is migo d’i bai shtik or migo d’lehadam. Several explanations are suggested for why ha-peh she-asar is stronger: both on the evidentiary plane of mah li leshaker and on the formal plane of creating/transferring presumptive possession, and alongside that two approaches are presented that are not built as migo at all, but rather as arguments of procedural fairness and of a “package deal” where the statement cannot be split. The discussion then connects these ideas to the Mishnahs and the Talmud on page 22, to the question of a source “from the Torah” versus “logical reasoning,” to the questions of Rabbi Akiva Eiger and Kovetz Shiurim regarding a captive woman who says she is pure, and to Beit Yaakov’s questions about the relationship between the source of ha-peh she-asar and the source of migo, and about the problem of migo le-mafre’a and the rule of “within the span of speech.”

The dispute between Rashi and Tosafot about the basis of ha-peh she-asar

Rashi defines ha-peh she-asar as migo d’i bai shtik, because the defendant could have remained silent and then no claim would have arisen at all. Tosafot define ha-peh she-asar even where silence is no longer possible because the plaintiff has already brought a claim, since the defendant can say lehadam and immediately shut the discussion down, thereby brushing off the claim and not merely winning in court. The lecture suggests that Rashi’s reasoning also exists in Tosafot, just with a different focus: for Rashi the dependence is on the plaintiff, who has nothing to work with without the defendant; for Tosafot the dependence is on the court, which would see no reason to hear the case without the defendant’s admission, which creates “legs for the matter” and brings the plaintiff into the judicial framework in the judges’ eyes.

Ha-peh she-asar as a stronger migo: mah li leshaker and the force of a claim

On the evidentiary plane of mah li leshaker, it is argued that ha-peh she-asar is stronger than migo because the alternative is easier and more convenient, so choosing not to use it is stronger evidence that the speaker is not lying. According to Rashi this is even stronger, because the alternative is silence rather than a lie. Even according to Tosafot, it is argued that lehadam is easier than litigation, and therefore has an evidentiary advantage over ordinary migo, where suspicion and evidentiary discussion remain. On the formal level of the force of a claim and presumptive possession, the lecture says, along the lines of Rabbi Shimon and Kehillot Yaakov, that the very ability to win through an alternative claim grants one the status of a possessor, and in ha-peh she-asar this may be even stronger—especially according to Rashi, where the ability to win through silence makes the defendant a possessor in the plain sense, not merely by expanding the concept. According to Tosafot, it is harder to see why presumptive possession gives ha-peh she-asar an advantage over migo, so perhaps Tosafot focus the superiority of ha-peh she-asar mainly on mah li leshaker and less on the force of a claim.

Ha-peh she-asar undermines stable possession and explains migo used to extract

The lecture distinguishes between migo, which does not undermine stable possession, and ha-peh she-asar, which can turn the defendant into the possessor even against someone with stable possession, because the plaintiff’s possession rests on the defendant’s own admission. It is explained that a migo used to extract does not help according to the views that hold “we do not say migo in order to extract,” because the alternative claim would itself have been a claim aimed at extracting from someone with stable possession, and such a claim would not have succeeded in turning the claimant into the possessor. By contrast, in ha-peh she-asar the alternative claim creates a situation in which the plaintiff would never have achieved status at all; therefore ha-peh she-asar can transfer presumptive possession and in effect “extract” even against stable possession.

Two mechanisms that are not migo: “Don’t use the power I gave you” and a package deal

A “nearly moral” mechanism is proposed, according to which one may not use against the defendant a procedural power that the defendant himself created for the plaintiff, because the possession or status of mar kama arose only from the defendant’s admission. The lecture emphasizes that this is not an evidentiary consideration but an argument about the use of procedural power, similar to saying that it is improper “to shoot me with the gun I gave you.” It is argued that this can be said even according to Tosafot, because in the eyes of the court the defendant is still the source of the power that brought the claim into the courtroom, even if the plaintiff subjectively has his own information. Another mechanism is proposed as well: a “package deal,” according to which the court cannot accept only the part of the litigant’s statement that obligates him while rejecting the part that permits him, because if we suspect lying then the whole story should have been rejected, and if we accept the basis from which the obligation arose, then the continuation must also be accepted. From there the lecture builds a mima nafshakh argument: either you accept everything or you accept nothing.

Plaginan dibura and the rule that testimony is not accepted in halves

Nechama comments that in principle there is no such thing as “half-testimony,” and the rule is that testimony is not split; only in plaginan dibura are there cases where part is accepted and part rejected. The lecture explains, following the Raavad and the Rosh, that in plaginan dibura, when a person “testifies about himself,” that part is not entered as testimony in the record at all, but simply erased. Therefore this is not invalid half-testimony that ruins the whole thing, whereas in testimony about a relative there is no such division, because partial invalid testimony invalidates all of it. From this a support is developed for the claim that in ha-peh she-asar, which is on the level of a litigant’s claims and not testimony, there is no justification for selectively accepting one part and rejecting another when the words are entered as one unitary claim.

Examples of “wrongful birth” and the analogy to migo d’i bai shtik

The lecture suggests that Rashi’s case, where the defendant could have prevented the opening of the case entirely, resembles considerations of beyado in the Rosh, where the ability to create a factual state of affairs is stronger than ordinary migo, which depends on a court ruling. An analogy is brought from the legal doctrine of “wrongful birth,” where it is argued that the plaintiff’s ability to stand in court stems from the defendant’s own act, and therefore there is something problematic about using that very act to sue him. The analogy is meant to illustrate that the idea of “I created the legal situation” may explain the power of migo d’i bai shtik and its closeness to an explanation that is not a classic migo.

The distinction between evidence and power: the “Bibi” example and the mouth that permits

It is said that ha-peh she-asar operates only where there is also “the mouth that permits,” and therefore it is not comparable to a case where a person brings evidence that incriminates him without attaching a permitting claim in that same statement. It is argued that where the statement functions as opposing evidence, one cannot say “don’t use what I gave you,” because there is no document with its cancellation alongside it, and no claim that neutralizes the prohibition. The point is stressed that the rule is: “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted,” and therefore if there is only “the mouth that prohibited” without “the mouth that permitted,” there is no mechanism of ha-peh she-asar.

The Mishnahs and the Talmud on page 22: a married woman, a captive woman, and “I gave my daughter to this man”

The Mishnah is brought: a woman who says, “I was a married woman, and I am divorced,” is believed because “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted”; but if there are witnesses that she was a married woman and she says, “I am divorced,” she is not believed. The parallel Mishnah is brought: “I was taken captive, and I am pure,” and she is believed; but if there are witnesses that she was taken captive, she is not believed, and the explanation is linked to the expression “we do not live from her mouth” when the knowledge comes from witnesses and not from her own statement. In the Talmud, Rav Asi says there is a Torah source in the verse, “I gave my daughter to this man as a wife” — “to a man” prohibited her, “this” permitted her. The Talmud asks, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical reasoning,” and concludes that the rule follows from logic, while the verse is expounded for another law. It is emphasized that the formulation “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted” tends to highlight the explanation of “you do not accept a statement in halves” more than the claim of “don’t use the power against me.”

Reasoning as Torah-level law and the interpretation of “Judge your fellow with righteousness”

The lecture explains that the question “Why do I need a verse?” implies that logical reasoning is considered Torah-level; otherwise one could have said that a verse is needed to raise the law from rabbinic to Torah status. It is suggested that the reasoning of ha-peh she-asar interprets the command “Judge your fellow with righteousness” as laying down rules of procedure and fairness, and therefore there is no need for a special verse for this principle. It is noted that there is room to discuss whether every logical argument creates law or merely interprets existing law, but here the assumption is that this is an interpretive reasoning about the way law functions.

Rabbi Akiva Eiger and Kovetz Shiurim on “I was taken captive and I am pure” and self-imposed prohibition

Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s question is cited regarding “I was taken captive, and I am pure”: seemingly there is no ha-peh she-asar here in the sense of accepting the prohibition on the basis of testimony, because self-imposed prohibition is understood by him as a personal conduct of prohibition rather than factual credibility, and here the woman comes to permit herself, not to prohibit herself. The lecture answers that the question weakens once we understand that ha-peh she-asar does not first “believe” the prohibiting part and only afterward permit, but rather never accepts the prohibiting part independently beyond what is needed to accept the whole story; therefore there is no moment at which she becomes independently prohibited without the permission. It is said that Kovetz Shiurim ties Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s question to understanding shavya as something like a vow rather than credibility, and adds a discussion of what happens if witnesses come after her statement, but it is argued that the question depends on the conceptual structure of how ha-peh she-asar is understood.

Beit Yaakov: the source of migo versus the source of ha-peh she-asar, and retroactive migo

Beit Yaakov asks that if, in the initial assumption, a verse is needed for ha-peh she-asar, and it is agreed that ha-peh she-asar is superior to migo, then what is the Torah source for migo. A resolution is proposed according to which the question about a verse may focus not on the basic logic itself, but on the unique power of ha-peh she-asar to do what ordinary migo cannot do, such as extract or undermine stable possession. Beit Yaakov suggests the opposite direction, according to which ha-peh she-asar is actually weaker than migo, because it resembles migo le-mafre’a: after she has said, “I was a married woman,” she no longer has the option to claim, “I was single,” and therefore at the time she says, “I am divorced,” she no longer has an ordinary migo. He connects this to the rule of “within the span of speech” and to the question whether the statement is considered one unit or two statements that lock out the alternative claim, and from there explains why one might initially have thought a verse was needed even if migo itself is accepted by reason.

Interim conclusion: an upgraded migo or a different mechanism

The lecture sums up four explanations for the superiority of ha-peh she-asar: a strengthened mah li leshaker, the ability to create possession even against stable possession, the argument “don’t use the power I gave you,” and the argument of “all or nothing,” which does not allow the statement to be split. The first two explanations portray ha-peh she-asar as an upgraded migo, while the last two suggest mechanisms not built as migo at all. This is connected to the inquiry of Machaneh Ephraim and other later authorities (Acharonim) whether ha-peh she-asar is merely a stronger migo or whether it contains an independent component beyond the usual migo framework. The lecture notes that Rashi describes the fact that one could have remained silent, but the explanations for why that works can be integrated in different ways, and it is said that the continuation of the discussion in Machaneh Ephraim and the related topics will go on in the next lecture.

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, we’re continuing with the topic of ha-peh she-asar. In the previous lecture we saw the indications that ha-peh she-asar is a stronger mechanism than ordinary migo, and I talked about the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot whether this is migo d’i bai shtik or migo d’lehadam. According to Rashi, it’s migo d’i bai shtik—the fact that he could have stayed silent and simply said nothing at all, and then no claim would ever have arisen. According to Tosafot, you don’t need that; for something to count as ha-peh she-asar, you don’t need that, and it’s certainly still ha-peh she-asar—but not only that. According to Tosafot, it also applies where he doesn’t have the option of silence, because the other person is already suing him. He does have to say something, to explain how he responds, but he can reject the claim outright. And once he can reject it outright—not just win the case, but basically wave the person away—according to Tosafot that too is called ha-peh she-asar. I said, in one formulation, that Rashi’s logic really exists in Tosafot too; it’s just that Rashi is referring to the plaintiff, while Tosafot are referring to the judges. Meaning: according to Rashi, basically the plaintiff had nothing he could do here without the defendant. According to Tosafot, the plaintiff may come on the strength of information he has independently of the defendant, but the court would not think there was any case worth hearing unless the defendant himself acknowledged that there was some basis to the plaintiff’s claim. Meaning, the defendant is the one who drags the plaintiff into the discussion—not the plaintiff, subjectively. The plaintiff has the information; he knows to sue even without the defendant. But if the court heard him suing and I said lehadam, the court would stop the hearing and say: okay, I have no indication at all that you’re even connected to the issue, and therefore from our perspective, as judges, only the defendant is the one who brought you into the discussion. Not from your perspective, but from ours. I’m trying to show here that the logic of ha-peh she-asar, even in Tosafot, is similar to Rashi’s, except that Tosafot naturally broaden it more, because for them it’s enough that this process happens in the eyes of the judges; it doesn’t need to happen in the plaintiff himself. Okay? That’s basically what I said last time. Now, toward the end of the previous lecture I started talking about the explanations of what makes ha-peh she-asar preferable to migo, and I said that in order to get into that we have to remember the two components we saw in ordinary migo: the evidentiary component and the formal component as force of claim, credibility, and everything that isn’t just “the mouth”—in other words, mah li leshaker and the formal dimension. In terms of mah li leshaker, the evidentiary dimension in migo, you can understand why ha-peh she-asar is stronger. It’s stronger because the alternative is still more convenient. So in that sense it proves more strongly that I’m not lying now. Because if my alternative was to win in a more convenient way, then obviously the fact that I didn’t choose it is stronger evidence that I’m not lying now. According to Rashi this is much stronger still, because I wouldn’t even have had to lie—everything I would have needed to do was simply stay silent. So that is much stronger than having another option to lie, maybe lie better. It’s much more convenient not to lie at all. I’m saying that even according to Tosafot it’s clear that lehadam puts me in a more convenient situation than starting to argue with him. Lehadam means I would close the hearing one second after the claim was made. I’d say lehadam, goodbye. That’s it. It’s a lie. Again, that’s less convenient than what Rashi requires, but it’s still better than ordinary migo. Yes? Say, for example, in the case of “injured by wood,” to say this, to say that—you never know, it leaves suspicion, there are discussions, they start getting into evidence. Lehadam—there’s nothing to discuss. We close the hearing and go home. Therefore, even according to Tosafot, there is an evidentiary advantage to ha-peh she-asar over migo. That’s on the evidentiary plane. In terms of force of claim—say if we take the idea that the ability to win turns me into the possessor: I have the alternative of making a different claim and winning, which basically turns me into the possessor. We saw this in Rabbi Shimon, in Kehillot Yaakov. That element certainly exists in ha-peh she-asar too, and in a much stronger way, so also in the formal dimension that exists in migo, ha-peh she-asar has it more strongly. Why more strongly? Especially according to Rashi. According to Tosafot, maybe not, but according to Rashi it’s much stronger, because basically I could have won by silence, so you’re not the possessor at all. In migo, you’re basically the possessor because I could have made another claim against you and won, so de facto maybe one can view me as the possessor, even though you are the one physically holding the money and you would have won if we hadn’t spoken. Here I’m holding the money—and if not, I’m sitting on the land—and if we hadn’t spoken, you wouldn’t be here at all. I’m the possessor in the plain sense. You don’t need to expand the concept of possession here; I’m really the possessor according to Rashi. According to Tosafot it’s not like that, because according to Tosafot I’m sitting on the land and you come and say lehadam. But you also would not have been the possessor, and that would have undermined your status as possessor. So even according to Tosafot you can see how this works, but its advantage over migo is not unequivocal according to Tosafot.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But according to Tosafot, the law is that she only holds it without actually having a status of possession?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And in migo too that’s the case. So what is it—why is this better? Here too there’s no possession.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Well,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] so ha-peh she-asar is weaker in terms of force of claim. Obviously it’s not weaker. I’m saying: for you, according to Tosafot, it’s harder to see why ha-peh she-asar is preferable to migo. It works—it works like migo. But why is it preferable to migo? That’s the question. I’m looking for the added value; I’m not asking why ha-peh she-asar works at all. Why it works is obvious. It is at least migo; there’s no question it is at least migo. I’m only asking what it has beyond migo. I’m saying that on the evidentiary plane you can understand what it has beyond migo, both according to Rashi and according to Tosafot. On the level of force of claim, according to Rashi it’s very clear: this is full-fledged possession, not just an expanded concept of possession. According to Tosafot, it’s not clear whether there’s anything here beyond migo. Yes, it’s more complicated. This discussion matters; we need to understand it. Because when we say that ha-peh she-asar is definitely preferable to migo, we know that already—that’s a fact. So if according to Rashi the first explanation is correct and according to Tosafot the second explanation is correct, that only means they understand ha-peh she-asar differently, and differently understand why it is preferable to migo. Say, if according to Tosafot force of claim doesn’t give ha-peh she-asar an advantage—right, that’s what comes out according to Tosafot—but we know that ha-peh she-asar is nevertheless preferable to migo, and Tosafot agree with that too. How can that be? Apparently Tosafot understand that the focus is not force of claim at all, but rather mah li leshaker. They don’t see the force-of-claim dimension in migo as significant; instead they focus on mah li leshaker. So even according to Tosafot one can understand why ha-peh she-asar is preferable to migo. According to Rashi, it is certainly possible that there is both a force-of-claim dimension and that even in terms of force of claim, ha-peh she-asar is preferable to migo. So there’s no problem. Rashi can explain the superiority of ha-peh she-asar over migo also on the level of force of claim. Meaning, it is important to analyze why ha-peh she-asar is preferable to migo in order to understand how Rashi learned and how Tosafot learned, because according to Rashi certain explanations will work, and according to Tosafot other explanations will work. Up to this point, that’s what we discussed in the previous lecture. Basically I examined the two components that exist in migo, to what extent they appear in ha-peh she-asar, and whether they are stronger in ha-peh she-asar than in ordinary migo. Now I want to add two more explanations.

[Speaker C] Even though we said that ha-peh she-asar also works to extract? Yes. Depends according to whom.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The question is what counts as extracting from the possessor. Extracting from the possessor can mean that it turns me into the possessor, maybe. You can understand it that way too, and that’s why it extracts. You’re basically destroying your own presumptive possession. It’s not that it extracts from a possessor because I have evidence against the possessor, as we saw in migo as force of claim; rather, it turns me into the possessor. It extracts. But in ha-peh she-asar, unlike migo, it can even attack stable possession. In migo, I said, it can’t: migo cannot take someone with stable possession, throw him off, and turn me into the possessor. It can do that if the other person has weak possession—then the migo will turn me into the possessor—or if my claim is weak, migo will strengthen it. But ha-peh she-asar simply turns me into the possessor even against stable possession, because even your stable possession—I’m the one who admitted that it belonged to your father. In that sense, you’re mar kama; that’s stable possession. You come with a good claim, you are completely the possessor because it was your father’s, all fine. Right—but that came from me. And since it came from me, you won’t succeed in attaining the status of possessor; rather, I will be the possessor. And that is unique to ha-peh she-asar; it doesn’t exist in migo. Okay.

[Speaker C] Wait, but this possession is also in migo.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I said. Here there’s room to hesitate; it could be that if I explain it this way, then maybe this would work even according to Tosafot. Because ordinary migo, even if Tosafot accept that there is force of claim in migo, ordinary migo still cannot attack stable possession. But maybe ha-peh she-asar can. So it works in the same way as migo, but it succeeds in doing what ordinary migo cannot do. Okay. There’s room to hesitate about that according to Tosafot. According to Rashi it’s obvious, because according to Rashi this is straightforward possession in every sense. Now, yes.

[Speaker D] We said that force of claim can’t turn me into the possessor? One more time? We said that force of claim can also turn

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] me into the possessor. Yes, but not turn me into the possessor against someone with stable possession. That’s what we discussed, because otherwise a migo used to extract would have to work. Why does a migo used to extract not work according to those views where it doesn’t work? Why doesn’t it work? It doesn’t work because a migo used to extract means there is someone standing here with clear possession—he is holding the object, he has a good claim, everything is fine. Now I come with a migo. That migo, at most, can make my claim a good claim if there is some problem with it. But a claim does not extract from a possessor. So maybe, though, the migo turns me into the possessor through the mechanism of force of claim? People say no, because the alternative claim would have been a claim to extract from a possessor, and a claim to extract from a possessor cannot work. The alternative claim would not have succeeded in turning me into the possessor. I would not have won. Therefore I cannot become the possessor against someone with stable possession. In ha-peh she-asar, however, that is true, because in ha-peh she-asar the alternative claim would basically have created a situation where you would never have become the possessor in the first place. I would have brushed you off completely. So ha-peh she-asar can turn me into the possessor even at the expense of someone with stable possession. That may be the advantage of ha-peh she-asar over migo on the level of force of claim. On the level of mah li leshaker, it’s simply a stronger clarification because the alternative is easier, better. On the level of possession, both create possession, and then I said that according to Tosafot, seemingly, so what’s the difference between migo and ha-peh she-asar? Why is there an advantage? So maybe Tosafot really do focus on mah li leshaker and not on force of claim. And in fact, in terms of force of claim, there is no difference. I’m saying no—it could be that there is a difference, because even in terms of force of claim what ha-peh she-asar does is something ordinary migo cannot do: turn me into the possessor at the expense of someone with stable possession. Migo cannot do that. That would be a migo used to extract. I’m speaking according to Tosafot, who hold that we do not say migo to extract, and we’re discussing Tosafot’s approach here, remember. So therefore it may be that there is an advantage even in terms of force of claim.

[Speaker E] Until now I always understood that when we say “to extract,” the intention is to extract money. Now I understand that it’s not only a matter of—not just extracting money.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why not extracting money?

[Speaker E] Extracting possession and transferring the possession to me—that’s not the same thing, because it’s still money. No, but now, at this stage, are they both still…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The one who seeks to extract has the burden of proof, and still it’s about extracting money.

[Speaker E] Meaning, we’re talking about a monetary case.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Now if I become the possessor, then I have extracted the money from you—there, I became the possessor of it. And now you will need to bring proof to extract it from me; if you don’t bring proof, the money stays with me even though you were the prior possessor. So I extracted the money. Okay? Now those are the first two directions. I want to raise two more directions that are unique to ha-peh she-asar, and it’s not clear to what extent they are related to the whole migo framework at all. It could be that there is something in ha-peh she-asar that is not connected at all to the whole migo framework, but is some other kind of advantage. And you saw Machaneh Ephraim and all the discussions whether ha-peh she-asar is migo or not—this is where that begins. Because until now I presented ha-peh she-asar as a kind of stronger migo. Stronger in the intensity of its evidentiary clarification, or even stronger in its ability to create possession at the expense of an ordinary possessor. Okay? Now I want to suggest other mechanisms that are not mechanisms of migo. The first mechanism—I would call it almost moral. Not exactly moral, but almost. Why are you using against me the evidence I myself placed in your hands? After all, I gave you this tool, this power. You can’t take that power and use it against me. At least say thank you that I gave it to you. Why can’t I? Because that’s what I’m saying—it’s like a moral claim. Meaning, I was the one who gave you the ability to use this in the first place. I’d say maybe even according to Tosafot. According to Rashi it’s stronger, but maybe even according to Tosafot. I’m the one who made you into mar kama. Without me, nobody would have believed that this belonged to your ancestors. And now you want to use that principle against me? Now remember, you are using this principle against me, and I’m not talking here about evidentiary clarification at all. I’m talking about using power. I have the power to win; I’m not talking about mah li leshaker, we spoke about that in the previous explanations. Now I’m talking about something completely different. You want to win against me because you’re the possessor. How did you become the possessor? You became the possessor because I said it had belonged to your ancestors, right? So you want to use what I said against me? Now if that were evidence against me, there would be no room for this claim. But I’m talking here about a formal principle of procedure or a principle of power. You are the possessor, so you deserve to win if nobody brings proof—not because you’re right, but because if nobody brings proof then you win. Wait a second. I created that power for you. You now want to use it against me when you have no proof? You have no proof and I have no proof. Fine. So now the question is: who is more justified in winning? The whole idea of possession, as I said, is an argument from power, not an argument that you are right, that you have evidence, that we believe you. Now here there is room for a consideration that says: look, I gave you this possession. It cannot be that the court—now I’m talking about the court of course—it cannot be that you use against me what I gave him. After all, you are not using evidence here. If I had created evidence in his favor, fine. But you’re using this as some kind of power he has over me, and that power he got from me.

[Speaker F] And it’s already in his hands now.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, so what? It’s in his hands because I gave it to him.

[Speaker F] The field is in his hands, and you’re saying yes, it’s his.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s like using the gun I gave you to shoot me. Okay? What do you mean? I gave you that gun.

[Speaker F] Yes, that’s in the case of the woman.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, in this case too.

[Speaker F] In the case of the field it’s not exactly like that, because the field is with the sons.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s not with the sons; it’s with me. I’m in the field right now. I only said that it had belonged to their father, and that’s how they became mar kama. I’m saying: how did you become mar kama in the first place? I made you into mar kama. So if there were evidence against me, I understand—those are the facts, what difference does it make whether I brought the evidence or someone else did? At the end of the day, the evidence reveals the truth to the court. But if this is not an evidentiary consideration, but rather a question of who… not who is holding it, because in land cases it’s who it belonged to first, yes, the mar kama. Now, who made you into mar kama? Me! So you want to use that in order to win against me? At least say thank you that I said it at all, that I admitted it at all. Okay?

[Speaker C] But that really is a moral issue, no?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but I’m saying that since the whole discussion here is not a discussion of evidence—if it were evidence, then I really don’t think morality would be relevant here. But if the discussion is about who has the power to win, then the claim is that the Torah gives power to the possessor, or Jewish law gives power to the possessor. And now I’m saying: if that power came from me, then I say to the Torah: it cannot be that a power I gave him, you are going to use against me. And I’m talking about power, not credibility. Again, if this were credibility, then reality would have been proven—what difference does it make who gave it and who didn’t? You were an upright person, wonderful, get a medal from the president. But now we know the truth, and the truth is that it’s his. That would be if I had given him evidence. Meaning, if I brought him a document and said to him, look, this document says that this land is yours—then yes, I gave him the document, but now the document proves that the land is his. So the court has to decide whose land it is. Fine, you gave the document.

[Speaker C] He is still believed—just in the opposite direction.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? Fine, but that’s exactly the point: being believed when I’m hurting myself is no big deal. The point is that I want to be believed back the other way. Meaning: don’t use it against me. In other words, if I gave you evidence, then once you have evidence the court knows the truth; what difference does it make that I gave the evidence? But if I didn’t give you evidence—I gave you the power to win. And with all due respect to the power to win, if that power came from me, then I would expect that the Torah would not let you win because of that power, because that power came from me.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Is it because in court they don’t split testimony? Meaning, in court you can’t divide testimony and say: the first half I accept, the second half I don’t?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s the next explanation I’m about to give, one second.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But if you had given a document and also said something else to him…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s something else. “We would have admitted because of monetary pressure”—we’ll get to that, yes. That’s something else. I’m not qualifying the document; I’m giving you the document and only saying: but don’t use it, because I gave it to you. You gave it to me—but now the document proves that I’m right, so why shouldn’t I use it? If you’re claiming the document is forged, that’s something else, because then it becomes more similar to ha-peh she-asar—assuming one can claim forgery against a document, depending on various things. So that’s a third explanation. Notice that this explanation is not related—it doesn’t operate on the plane of migo at all. This is not a migo explanation at all; it’s unrelated. It says: you can’t use the possession that I gave you. That has nothing to do with migo.

[Speaker C] And according to Tosafot would that also work? Because in Tosafot the evidence is…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In Tosafot it’s a very difficult question whether this would work, this explanation too. Because in Tosafot, when I say lehadam, that too is ha-peh she-asar, not only when I can remain silent. Meaning, you know, you sue me and I could have said lehadam. Meaning I could have said lehadam, but the power to sue didn’t come from me. True—but in the eyes of the court, the power ultimately did come from me. The fact that you sue does not make you mar kama in the eyes of the court. You have no witnesses that your parents owned the land. Okay? I gave you that credibility. Therefore even according to Tosafot there is room to say this, because in the end, in the eyes of the court, even if not in your own eyes, I am the source of your power. The court would rule in your favor as mar kama only because I admitted before them that you are the mar kama. So I’m the one who gave you that standing in court—so don’t use it against me. Or rather: court, don’t use it against me. Okay? So there’s room to explain it that way. I would say that according to this explanation, ha-peh she-asar is not really a migo at all. Ha-peh she-asar is really a different principle altogether—some kind of moral principle, I’d say. Not exactly moral, but something like moral. Meaning: don’t use against me a power that I ultimately gave the other person. What you are using here is a power mechanism.

[Speaker E] It’s

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] not fair to use a power mechanism when the power came from me against me.

[Speaker E] That’s a bit similar to Rashi’s migo d’i bai shtik, because it’s basically the same thing. If you had stayed silent, they wouldn’t be using it. So here you’re saying: don’t use the power I gave you, because I gave it to you.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s one explanation of ha-peh she-asar. What Rashi describes is only the bare fact that this is ha-peh she-asar, that I could have remained silent. But I’m asking: why does the fact that I could have remained silent give me power? So here is an explanation. This explanation is not written in Rashi. Maybe Rashi holds it and maybe not; I don’t know. But the explanation itself is not written in Rashi. What is written in Rashi is the fact. If we take the truth all the way through, it can fit with Rashi just like any other explanation. Rashi only says that I have an advantage because I could have remained silent, but you can understand that as migo—and Rashi, as we saw, formulates it like migo, okay? You can understand it as migo, and that also fits Rashi. Every explanation can fit Rashi. Rashi is only describing the fact. The fact that I could have remained silent means that I win—but why do I win? Either because of mah li leshaker, or because of this “not fair” idea I just said, or any other explanation can be inserted here. That’s all. In Maimonides I’m a little less sure. I think the next formulation is stronger in Maimonides. I’ll say it in a moment. The claim is that one could also fit Maimonides into this. Maimonides says: why do I give a person the power of migo? In order to let him not lie, or not force him to lie. To allow him to say the truth. Here too I’m saying: don’t worry—we won’t use against you a power that you gave us. You can relax, give him whatever power you want, say the truth, and we won’t use that power against you. That can fit with Maimonides. Okay? That’s the fourth explanation—sorry, the third. The fourth explanation, which is also not exactly a migo mechanism but some other mechanism, and here you need to pay close attention. There is a big difference between ha-peh she-asar and migo, first of all in the description of the facts. The facts are different in ha-peh she-asar and in migo. Why? Because in migo I make claim A. That claim, by itself, is not accepted. I could have made claim B, and then I would have won. I could have lied and made claim B, and then I would have won. So believe me that in claim A I’m not lying. But if—that is, what am I confronting? I’m confronting the possibility that maybe in claim A, which I’m making now, I’m lying. Right? That’s what the court has to decide. Am I lying or not? Then I say to the court: look, if I were lying, I would already have chosen lie B. Believe me that I’m not lying. So the court has two alternatives: either decide that I’m lying or decide that I’m not lying. And migo says: choose the alternative that I’m not lying rather than the alternative that I am. In ha-peh she-asar, it’s not like that. Half of my claim is accepted either way. After all, when I say, “It belonged to your ancestors, but I bought it,” the part that it belonged to his ancestors—you want to accept that from me even on the assumption that I’m lying. You’re just now discussing whether to believe me also on the part that I bought it. But one second—for heaven’s sake—you’re accepting half my claim anyway, in any case. Even if you decide that I’m lying about the part where I say I bought it from them, that still doesn’t shake your acceptance that it belonged to his ancestors. How do you know it belonged to his ancestors? Because I said so. Oh, you accept that in any event? Then just accept everything I’m saying.

[Speaker C] But that’s not—but that’s not like migo. It’s not like migo, that’s what I’m saying.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In ha-peh she-asar there are two claims: that it belonged to his ancestors and that… right. On the second half there’s sort of a migo. But there’s another half that you accept regardless. And now you want to take from me the half that hurts me and not accept the half that helps me? Either you think I’m lying, in which case don’t accept anything. Or you think I’m not lying, in which case accept everything. But what are you doing to me here? You’re hitting me from every direction. Meaning, the half where I hurt myself, that you take from me, and the half where I didn’t hurt myself, where I say no…

[Speaker G] The second claim in ha-peh she-asar is that it was mine from the start. Right. It’s not that it was your ancestors’. Well. Migo. That’s what I could have said.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. No, I’m asking the question: what options are available to the religious court? And then he used the “the mouth that forbade” principle to decide between the two. But what are the two alternatives facing the religious court? Both of them… like in migo, only… no. No, no, no. They accept half of what you said. Exactly, that’s the difference. The two alternatives facing the religious court are either to accept half of what I’m saying or to accept all of what I’m saying. And I’m saying to the religious court: listen, I had the alternative of saying something else entirely, so I’m asking you to accept everything I’m saying, right? That’s what I’m asking. And not just half. In migo, the two alternatives the religious court is struggling between are either not to accept what I’m saying or yes to accept what I’m saying. So I’m saying—in other words, you, the religious court, in any case intend to accept half of what I’m saying. So what kind of thing is it to accept the half that goes against me and not accept… either I’m lying or… if I’m lying, then don’t believe me that it belonged to his ancestors either. I’m a pathological liar. So it didn’t belong to his ancestors, there was nothing.

[Speaker D] I saw in “the mouth that forbade” a kind of cause and effect. I told you both the fact and what happened. Meaning, I gave you a credible story that has a process, that has a chain of events. Okay. In migo I don’t have that.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In migo it’s… it’s the same thing I’m saying here. In other words, you’re basically saying: don’t accept the first stage of the chain of events without accepting the second stage. Same thing.

[Speaker D] That’s what I said.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, you just presented it to me a little differently. Okay. So that’s one formulation. It could also be formulated… in my opinion it’s the same thing, but in a slightly different way. Look. I admitted that it belonged to his ancestors only on condition that you also accept that I received… that I bought it. Yes, more precisely I’m saying: if you don’t accept that, then I retract my admission. In other words, my whole admission is a package deal. I’m willing to admit that it belonged to his ancestors as long as that’s part of the story. The story is that afterward I also took it from them, I bought it from them. If you don’t accept that I bought it from them, then I also don’t admit that it belonged to his ancestors. In other words, I… as to what exactly I admitted: you can’t take more out of my admission than what I admitted. Can I retract the admission? What? No, obviously not. This is all a hypothetical process.

[Speaker C] Here the two things depend on each other. Here it’s either-or. Here it’s a choice. In migo…

[Speaker E] Also, why should the religious court take only the half that goes against him?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Look, there is a certain logic to that—just a second—there is a certain logic to it, because what goes against me is a litigant’s admission, so the religious court accepts it, and what goes in my favor—why should the religious court accept that? I’m not deemed credible regarding what works in my favor. It’s not as implausible as I made it sound before. But still, that’s the idea of “the mouth that forbade.” The idea of “the mouth that forbade” is that I never made a litigant’s admission at all that it belonged to his ancestors. A litigant’s admission is an admission—let me put it differently—a litigant’s admission is an admission where a person comes to hurt himself, right? And I’m saying: who hurts himself? If you hurt yourself, apparently you’re really telling the truth, because a person doesn’t lie in order to hurt himself. But here I made the litigant’s admission not in order to hurt myself. After all, I admitted it in order to win. I said: it belonged to his ancestors, and I bought it. So if you don’t see that as a litigant’s admission, then don’t accept any of it. What I said here is like “whoever says, ‘I did not borrow,’ is as though he said, ‘I did not repay,'” which we talked about in one of the previous classes. After all, I didn’t really come to hurt myself; I said, ‘I didn’t borrow at all.’ In the end it turned out to hurt me because I admitted that I didn’t repay after witnesses came that there had been a loan, but when I came, I did not come with the motivation of hurting myself. So that consideration doesn’t apply here—that I must really be telling the truth because a person does not just hurt himself. I didn’t hurt myself. I made a claim by virtue of which I was supposed to win. Now you want to take from that one part that I admitted and accept it, and another part not to accept. But that part I would never have said at all—I said it as part of a story meant to make me win, so therefore you

[Speaker D] are not supposed to accept it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s basically the idea—one possible way of explaining the idea of “the mouth that forbade.” And it also seems to me that this is actually different from migo in that, as we said, migo can be used from the outset, and the person knows that if he uses migo, then he will win.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So here, basically, that option doesn’t exist. What does that mean? Why? Why? Using a migo here gains him nothing from speaking. With a migo, he gains something if he knows in advance that if he says it—why? In the end he gains, he’ll win that way. Because a person knows that with migo, the weaker claim is actually strong because he has a migo in his favor. And here he has “the mouth that prohibited” in favor of the weaker claim—what’s the difference? No, but if I say nothing at all, that’s even better for me. Fine, so he said: what’s better for me, to say “it’s mine and I bought it,” or to say nothing at all? I’m saying it could be that precisely because saying nothing would have been better for me than saying “it’s mine,” that’s exactly what creates the migo. It could be that I’m doing a double-reverse and saying: no, no, I’m making the less advantageous claim because I know that the consideration that I could have made a better claim will work in my favor as a migo. Now I’m already sticking with this line, which is a different line; I’m saying that the very consideration that exists in migo seemingly exists here too. No, what did I gain by speaking? By the fact that now I have evidence in my favor. If I had said nothing, then he would have been against me and I would have won, but I would have won without being sure I was right. If I had said nothing, one of us would have been lying; I’m in possession, so I win, right? That’s how I would have won. Now there is “the mouth that prohibited,” which proves that I’m also right. I win because there’s evidence that I’m right. That’s better—I come out better than if someone had simply said nothing.

In Rashi there might perhaps be room to hesitate, because in Rashi I could have kept quiet, and if I had kept quiet no one would have said I was lying; the discussion would never have opened at all, he wouldn’t have sued me. So in Rashi maybe there is room to say that in “the mouth that prohibited” this consideration that exists regarding migo doesn’t really appear at all.

So what does Maimonides really mean in his complete claim? That yes, he’s telling the truth, he’s telling the truth—we’re right. I said, as I said before, that I gave Maimonides’ explanation of migo according to the third explanation there, and the fourth explanation maybe fits even more naturally. I’m saying that in the end Maimonides is basically saying that with migo I’m using migo to allow a person to tell the truth—to avoid forcing him to lie. I’m saying to him: here, don’t worry, we’ll accept your testimony in full. Say all the details, everything is fine, we’ll accept everything that—you won’t lose out by adding details. Why? Because we accept the testimony in full. Meaning: here, you added details for us, and you didn’t lose by that, okay? We accept everything, there’s no problem. Fine, that too can be said in Maimonides here.

In any case, that’s the additional explanation. You need to understand: in the explanation—what’s the difference between the previous explanation and this one? In the previous explanation, “the mouth that prohibited” does not grant credibility. It’s not like “the mouth that prohibited.” It says: don’t use the power he received from me against me. That’s a procedural consideration. The whole victory of possession—so I say: victory by possession is a procedural victory. So he says: here procedure can’t operate against me; after all, I established that procedure, right? That was the previous explanation. So that doesn’t mean I’m right. There’s no proof here in my favor, yes? It only says that procedure here has to work in my favor and not in yours.

This explanation also has a conceptual dimension. It says: look, what do you think? If I’m lying, then don’t accept the first part either; therefore that proves that you’re supposed to conclude that I’m telling the truth about everything. That’s a consideration that can also be understood on the evidentiary plane. It clarifies reality—yes, exactly—or clarifies, as it were, that I’m speaking truthfully. We spoke about migo as speaking about the person and not about reality, but yes, it’s some kind of evidence in my favor, unlike the previous explanation, which only says: look, you can’t use power against me. Here it’s not that you can’t use power against me; it’s evidence in my favor. Because either way—if you decide that I’m lying, then I’m lying about everything, so then it also wasn’t his father’s, and again I win. And if you think I’m telling the truth, then accept everything I say, so I bought it, and again I win. So either way I win. Logic says—it’s simply a logical consideration—that in any case I win. Okay.

Nechama, you wanted to comment on something earlier? No, I thought it was a bit tangential. Because here it’s clear—the moral principle is really very strong here, because in principle there’s no reasoning that says you can’t split testimony. There is “we split the statement,” but in principle there’s no—we do have “we split the statement,” but in principle testimony is specifically not split. There isn’t half-testimony. And in “we split the statement,” that’s what the medieval authorities (Rishonim) write: “we split the statement” when I testify about myself, then the part I testified about myself is not said at all. Only in that case. Only in that case. If I testify, for example, about a relative—half the testimony—and half the testimony about someone else, there is no splitting of testimony. Either all of it is accepted or all of it is not accepted. On the contrary, the rule is that there is no half-testimony. But the question here is whether this is testimony or not testimony—we spoke…

Yes, okay, once I see this on the evidentiary plane, then I relate to it as some kind of type like testimony—obviously not testimony—but wait, Rabbi Akiva Eiger says something else. Wait, we’ll get to that in a moment. Rabbi Akiva Eiger speaks about an oath, not about the case of land. We’re talking about land right now. No, I was referring to the fact that we’re discussing what “the mouth that prohibited” is at all… No, the reverse, the reverse—Rabbi Akiva Eiger talks only about prohibitions and not about monetary law. What I just said is only about monetary law. Yael? No, from this explanation of “we split the statement,” yes… No, what I’m saying is that here, what I’m really claiming in the last explanation is that “the mouth that prohibited” basically says: don’t split my words. Either you accept all of them or you accept none of them. Now if you accept none of them, I win. And if you accept all of it, I win. So either way I win. You are choosing this bizarre option of accepting one part and not the other, in a way that leaves me stuck. What’s the idea?

Now here it’s a logical consideration, not a power consideration. Either you accept it or you don’t accept it; it’s a logical point. Either way. But the court has no more reason to believe one part than… Exactly. Either you believe everything or you believe nothing. Why are you selectively choosing what to believe and what not to believe just in order to nail me? Now here it’s a logical consideration—that’s one side.

So Nechama said: wait, but there is a topic in the world called “we split the statement.” The topic of “we split the statement” is that many times there’s a situation where a person makes some claim or gives some testimony, and we accept part of the testimony and don’t accept the second part. Okay? For example, someone testifies: “So-and-so lent me money at interest,” and as the borrower at interest I make myself wicked. It’s forbidden to lend at interest, not only to borrow. Okay? So the question is whether to accept the testimony, in which case I’m accepting testimony about himself—but a person cannot make himself wicked—or not to accept it at all, in which case I also won’t accept the testimony that he lent at interest, not even regarding him, because the testimony has two parts: if you don’t accept the first part, don’t accept the second, and vice versa.

So there the Talmud says that we do “we split the statement.” We accept the testimony about him but not the testimony about me. Meaning, he lent at interest—but not to me? To someone else, I don’t know. But what’s this dynamic? Why in that mechanism do we believe one part—or half—and not the other half, whereas here in “the mouth that prohibited” we don’t? But why? So that’s what I’m talking about; I’m explaining it now. That was exactly Nechama’s comment: why here do we divide under “we split the statement,” and here in “the mouth that prohibited” I say, wait, either way—what are you dividing? Either believe everything or believe nothing. That goes against “we split the statement.”

I’m saying: first, here he is a litigant and not a witness; this is a claim, not testimony. And second, “we split the statement” is in the laws of testimony, not in the laws of claims; here I’m making claims. But beyond that—it’s much more so. Because with “we split the statement,” let’s say I had said: “So-and-so lent my brother money at interest.” Now I’m not believed even on the part about my brother, because I’m his relative. I can’t testify about my brother. Here they would not do “we split the statement.” Here they would invalidate everything. Because if part of it falls, all of it falls. If part of the testimony is invalid, all of it is invalid. We don’t divide testimony. So why when I testify about myself do we? So the Ra’avad and the Rosh explain, in one of the explanations in Makkot, one of the Rosh’s explanations is that when I testify about myself, it simply isn’t entered in the protocol. It isn’t testimony at all. It wasn’t said in court. Only the second half remains. It’s not that half was invalidated. Half isn’t testimony at all. When a person speaks about himself, that isn’t testimony. You speak about your brother—that is invalid testimony. Once half is invalid, everything is invalid. But when you speak about yourself… about yourself, that’s a claim, not testimony. So here you have half claim and half testimony. So it isn’t that one invalidates the other; rather, half isn’t accepted, isn’t entered into the protocol as testimony. Only the second half remains, and that second half is accepted.

And from that we see that the Ra’avad and the Rosh say that in principle we really do not divide claims and testimonies. Here specifically, because half is not testimony at all but a claim, it is simply erased from the protocol, it isn’t entered. But in a place where something composite is entered into the protocol, we have to decide about the whole thing; we don’t divide. Either all of it is believed or none of it is believed. So now we come back to our case of “the mouth that prohibited.” Therefore here too it’s the same. But here too the possessor of the land is a litigant in a very… No, obviously—I said the similarity is external. We don’t enter it at all as testimony, we enter it as a claim. But all of it is claim. There’s no half-testimony and half-claim here; all of it is claim. So why not enter nothing—not the beginning and not the end? We enter it as a claim, not as testimony. In the protocol there appears what the parties are claiming, and also what testimonies there were. But if here it’s entered as one unit, then in that sense here too I won’t divide it—just as testimony that is entered, I don’t divide. Only where one statement is half testimony and half claim do I say, fine, the testimony half I can accept, because the claim half is unrelated; it isn’t measured by the same terms of evidence, of testimony. So the topic of “we split the statement” proves the opposite. It proves that in principle we do not split a statement. Only specifically there, in that particular case, do we make a division. And if so, then that is exactly “the mouth that prohibited” here. Meaning, either you accept my claim or you don’t accept it; you can’t accept half and reject another half. Okay?

Okay, so this is “the mouth that prohibited,” and his claim is weak because I’m not… Is the fact that I claim “it was his father’s” because of the plaintiff? Yes, because of the plaintiff. I didn’t understand. The fact that I say that the land belonged to the father—I’m basically repeating the plaintiff’s words. Correct, but what I say has evidentiary weight. When I admit that it belonged to his father, that is admission by a litigant. When he says it belonged to his father, that is a claim. He can claim that, and I can also claim that the moon belonged to my father—so what? That says nothing to the court. We don’t know that it belonged to his ancestors—he says it did. Okay, so he said it.

Wait, but your admission that it belonged to your father—here too, why believe the first part? Why yes? Believe me—you believe me that it belonged to his father? Because if you wouldn’t believe me, then the fact that he says it means nothing. It doesn’t make him the prior owner. Only because I admit to him, by admission of a litigant, that it belonged to his father, do you believe him that it belonged to his father. So believe me also that I bought it from his father. But didn’t we ever say whether admission by a litigant is like a claim or like testimony? It’s neither. There’s a dispute about that. I mentioned it—the question is whether it’s credibility or some other mechanism.

Meaning, if someone comes and I say, yes, it belonged to your father, does it immediately pass to him? Not pass to him, but he becomes the prior owner. Now we need to discuss evidence, but in principle he becomes the prior owner, meaning he has the power to win if there is no evidence. But he got that from me. The fact that he makes claims does not make him the prior owner. He said it belonged to his father—so what? He becomes the prior owner, and then if some third party comes, then he is the prior owner? Yes, if the prior owner brings two witnesses. If not—if I admit by admission of a litigant, admitting that it belonged to his ancestors—then now it is established as having belonged to his ancestors. And suppose that my claim that I bought it from his ancestors is not accepted for some reason; somehow they did split it, they did not accept my “mouth that prohibited.” Now someone else comes and claims the land from him. He will now have the status of prior owner because he now has evidence that it belonged to his ancestors—my admission by a litigant. It’s not entirely smooth; here I’m fudging a little because this is an admission by a litigant that harms others, so it’s a bit problematic, but never mind—in principle, yes. Okay?

Good. So you have to understand that the first two explanations—I brought four explanations for the advantage of “the mouth that prohibited.” The first explanation is that it has a stronger “why would I lie.” The second explanation is that it succeeds in generating possession even against stable possession. That relates to the plane of the power of the claim. The first two explanations see “the mouth that prohibited” as an upgraded migo—either in the power of the claim or in its “why would I lie.”

The second two explanations that I brought—the third and the fourth—do not look at “the mouth that prohibited” as migo. Rather, it is either an argument of “don’t use the power I gave you against me,” or an argument of “either way, either accept everything or accept nothing.” Those are not mechanisms of migo, but completely different mechanisms. And that is exactly the discussion of the Machaneh Ephraim and many later authorities (Acharonim) deal with it. Even though there is very little proof either way—I don’t really accept the proofs they usually bring to this inquiry—but it’s an inquiry that many later authorities make on the question of whether “the mouth that prohibited” is an upgraded migo or something else. What they mean is basically whether one of the first two explanations is correct or one of the second two explanations is correct. Is “the mouth that prohibited” an upgraded migo—that’s the first two explanations—or not, is it a completely different mechanism apart from migo, of course. In “the mouth that prohibited” there is also migo, that is obvious. The first two explanations are certainly true. The question is whether they are the whole advantage. Clearly it is also migo. In other words, there is no dispute about that. The question is whether it is only migo or whether there is something more there beyond that.

Another point—perhaps in Rashi; I also noted this. On the one hand Rashi says that “the mouth that prohibited” is only a migo of “I could have remained silent.” Meaning: when you don’t know to sue without me, then if I had remained silent and said nothing, you wouldn’t have come to sue at all. That’s not exactly migo. It’s actually somewhat questionable how far this really is migo, just by definition, even before the explanations. Because migo means that a case was opened and I could have lied better. Here I’m saying that it was in my power not to open the case at all. One could perhaps see this as a very strong migo, but it is highly doubtful how much this is migo, because it is not an alternative claim through which I would have lied and gotten the power of that claim or something of that kind, or that it proves something. Rather, I created this discussion—what do you want from me?

I’ll just bring one example for the matter. The Rosh in tractate Bava Batra, chapter three, speaks about “it was in his power.” “In his power” means if he can with his own hands create it—say someone comes and says, “Your pure foods became impure.” Your terumah is impure. Now that’s a big loss because he can’t use the terumah—say he’s a priest or something, yes? So he can’t use the terumah because it is impure. So they say there, there is a possibility to say that he is fully believed, even though this is one witness and apparently he is causing monetary loss to the priest—but he could have made the terumah impure himself, simply by taking something. If he wanted to cause the priest loss, he could have just done it with his own hands.

The Rosh writes there that this seems like migo, right? If I wanted to make the pure foods impure, I would have made them impure by hand. It’s not that I could have lied, but that I could have achieved the result in another way that depended only on me, okay? A bit like power of claim. The Rosh says this is a stronger migo than ordinary migo. In ordinary migo you still need the court—you would make the other claim, and the court would rule in your favor. Here you could simply create the situation with your own hands, independent of the court. So that is a much stronger claim. The question is whether such a thing is called a stronger migo, or whether it is a completely different mechanism. Once I created the situation, then I am the all-powerful ruler over it—as it were, I did everything here, I can do everything here, I’m the only master of the house. If I’m the only master here, what are you beginning to discuss whether I am believed or not believed? We’re not even in that arena. I could have done whatever I wanted here; everything is in my hands. Okay?

So here, in a certain sense, the later explanations—according to Rashi—the migo of “I could have remained silent” is to some degree this. After all, I could have—I couldn’t have argued some other claim in court that they would have ruled in my favor. I seated the court here altogether—you and the court together. Without me you wouldn’t even be here.

It reminds me a little—you know in legal systems there’s a controversial tort claim called wrongful life. Meaning, if I want to sue my parents for not having an abortion. I was born very sick, I suffer all my life, I don’t know, all kinds of such reasons, and I sue my parents: why didn’t you have an abortion? And let’s say the doctor told them and they decided not to have the abortion—because there are also suits against doctors: why didn’t you tell my parents this was the situation, and they would have had an abortion? I’m suing the doctor. In many legal systems in the world they accept—not all, but some legal systems accept—a kind of such tort claim against the doctor if he didn’t tell the parents. But there are a few legal systems in the world that even accept a claim against the parents: why didn’t you abort me?

Now one of the arguments against that suit is an argument of “the mouth that prohibited.” Meaning, it basically says this: if your parents had aborted you, you wouldn’t be here. The fact that you are standing here suing them is only because they didn’t have an abortion—they constituted you. Meaning, they are the ones by whose merit you are here. And now you want to saw off the branch on which you are sitting—actually standing—not sitting, standing here in court. It’s a kind of argument. It’s not migo; understand that it’s not migo. It’s not migo of “I could have…” What could I have? Nothing. But what, do the parents have a migo that they could have not brought you into the world? But that is what you wanted—that they not bring you into the world. What kind of migo is that? It’s not a migo argument, but an argument that says: if I created you, you can’t use that against me. What—you can sue me using the power that I gave you, your very existence in this case, to sue me? After all, it’s because of me that you are even here and able to sue. Meaning, if I hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t be here and able to sue. That’s the third explanation, but not morally—right, exactly.

And here it comes up—I’m saying Rashi’s explanation of the migo of “I could have remained silent” connects in a certain way with the third explanation that says: listen, it’s not only that you got the power from me; I created you, ex nihilo. You wouldn’t be here without me—you wouldn’t be here legally, of course, without me. If I hadn’t said that it belonged to your parents, you yourself wouldn’t have known that, you wouldn’t be here. This is really wrongful life. I created the discussion. Created you, and now you raise a sword against me. Okay?

But if, say, a person admits he owes money from some kind of positive emotional place, and afterward—as if, meaning no one knew this, right? He volunteers this information on his own—can one now demand of him that he prove that he didn’t, I don’t know, do whatever? No. No. “The mouth that prohibited”—exactly “the mouth that prohibited.” He could have not testified about the murder at all. Therefore you can’t now suspect him of being the murderer. “Bring evidence that you’re not the murderer.” Because if I hadn’t come and said that there had been a murder, you wouldn’t have begun asking me and investigating; there would have been no discussion. Is that true legally too? Certainly, certainly—legally. Yes, yes, correct. If there’s no… What do you mean legally? In Israeli law? I’m not expert in the legal world, but in Jewish law that’s how it works. In Jewish law that’s how it works. I don’t know. If there’s no body or if there’s no… in front of our eyes? What? If there’s no reconstruction. Otherwise maybe it’s not “the mouth that prohibited.” That’s Rashi and Tosafot, depends. It has nothing to do with a body at all.

Wait, I have a question. The very fact that, say according to Rashi, the very fact that a person didn’t speak. Fine, suppose he didn’t speak. Okay. He is silent, doesn’t raise the issue at all. Does that fact contain some mark of migo? Meaning, he remains… If he had remained silent, then no migo would be needed at all; he would simply win because there would be no claim. Okay. The migo always happens when he does not remain silent, because I could have remained silent. That gives me the migo. But if he had actually remained silent, he would win because there is no claim.

So you’re claiming, as it were, a better claim. If Bibi hadn’t brought the recording of Nir Hefetz, there would have been no Case 4000. Okay. Okay, so what. So you’re asking whether he has “the mouth that prohibited” there? Because it’s evidence, basically. No, he doesn’t have “the mouth that prohibited” there. Why? Simple. Because he took the bribe. Come on, what are you saying? Right, because he took it. Because maybe what the testimony says… The question is excellent. Let’s sharpen the point. Why doesn’t Bibi have “the mouth that prohibited”? After all, he brought the recording—how can you accuse him on the basis of that recording? Because it’s evidence. But it serves as evidence against him. Exactly. Meaning, after all, when I told you “it belonged to your ancestors,” I also said—it’s a note with its cancellation alongside it—I also said that I bought it from them. Fine, it belonged to your ancestors, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t mine. I only have to prove that I bought it. So if I’m the one who creates the burden of proof against myself, don’t impose the burden of proof on me—I claim that I bought it.

Bibi isn’t making a claim that exempts him. He’s saying “it belonged to your ancestors,” period. Bibi says: I made a deal and it’s a legitimate deal. That has to be examined on the legal plane—whether it’s a legitimate deal or not. But assuming that legally the deal is not legitimate, it doesn’t help that you brought the evidence. That’s exactly what I said in the previous class: if this were on the evidentiary plane, there would be no room for the third explanation. Because on the evidentiary plane, if we… if you bring me evidence that it’s yours, then why should I care that you brought it? Here it is, it’s yours; there is evidence that it’s mine. That’s exactly the point. Good—that’s a beautiful proof. That’s “the field belonged to your ancestors.” That’s saying “the field is mine because I bought it from them.” Exactly. Without saying that you bought it from them. Exactly. Right. Exactly. So I say: then we won’t use it because I said it? There’s no such thing. It’s like possession without a claim. It might make me a possessor, but I’m not claiming anything. It belonged to your ancestors—and what? Fine, then take it. Therefore Bibi said, “I brought you the recording.” Right, good for him. But what does the recording say? The recording says you gave a bribe. Or not—I’m saying that has to be examined legally. But if legally they reach the conclusion that it is a bribe, then it doesn’t help that there is “the mouth that prohibited” here. That’s exactly the point. And it has to be…

What? And that doesn’t help either. There is no “the mouth that permitted” here. Exactly. No, there is no “the mouth that permitted.” The rule is: “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted.” That is exactly—not, again, another nice point. The rule is: “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted.” Therefore don’t accept only the prohibition of the mouth and not the permission of the mouth. But with Bibi you have the mouth that prohibited and you do not have the mouth that permitted—he did not permit. So we accept the mouth that prohibited, and there is no “either way,” for example. What will he say? “You accept the testimony but you don’t accept what?” Your legal interpretation? Your legal interpretation is irrelevant. We will decide what the correct legal interpretation is. That’s unrelated.

If he had claimed some claim—yes, “I recorded this recording, but I fabricated it. It doesn’t reflect the truth at all. It’s edited.” That would be something else. That would be “the mouth that prohibited.” Because then we would say: ah, if you yourself who brought the recording say that it’s fabricated, we can’t use the recording against you. But if you say, “I brought the recording and therefore acquit me”—what do you mean? The recording says that you took a bribe. Or gave a bribe, sorry.

What’s the difference from when someone was a witness to a murder and they want to examine whether maybe you were a partner in the murder? What’s the difference? Because I say that I wasn’t a partner in the murder. That already says… No, no. He says nothing. He says nothing. Wait, Iris. Iris, he says nothing. What do you say? Did you murder or not? You… he has to claim no, that’s it. So you say: but maybe you collaborated? Maybe you didn’t do it? You collaborated? You collaborated? What do you say? He has to give a version.

Okay. The first Mishnah—on the contrary, Rabbi Yehoshua always says, “We do not live by his mouth.” Yes, correct. But in “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted,” we do live by his mouth… Exactly, exactly, exactly. I said—I said this in the class before last—that “the mouth that prohibited,” meaning “we do not live by his mouth” in the previous Mishnayot, exactly precedes Rabbi Yehoshua’s concession in “the mouth that prohibited.” He comes to say: with migo, “we do not live by his mouth,” therefore I disagree with you. In contrast, in the next Mishnah I concede to you in “the mouth that prohibited,” because there we do live by his mouth. And that really, I think, is a very strong expression in favor of the last two explanations. Because in the last two explanations it is really exactly the claim: by my mouth you live—how can you use that against me? After all, I gave you this ammunition. And the expression is very, very strong in that direction. Okay?

Good. Now the Talmud on page 22a—there is a Mishnah there, and here again it’s the same idea. “A woman who said: I was a married woman, and I am divorced, is believed, because the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted. And if there are witnesses that she was a married woman, and she says: I am divorced, she is not believed.”

Again: the woman prohibited—she made herself into a married woman—and afterward says, yes, but I got divorced. So “the mouth that prohibited” and the mouth also permitted. Now the question is what to do with this—again, all the “either ways,” all the explanations I have given until now, exist here too, right? In the Mishnah on page 22. Yes. “She said: I was taken captive, and I am pure”—same idea. “I was taken captive,” I assumed she is impure, but since she is the source for the fact that she was taken captive—we didn’t see, we have no witnesses that she was taken captive—so she also says that she is pure; it’s the note with its cancellation alongside it. So if she prohibited and she permitted, then everything is fine. “She is believed, because the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted. And if there are witnesses that she was taken captive, and she says: I am pure, she is not believed.” Why? Because there are witnesses that she was taken captive, so “we do not live by her mouth.” Exactly, right, that’s exactly the idea of “we do not live by her mouth.” We know that she was taken captive on the basis of witnesses, so she is no longer the mouth that prohibited, and therefore we do not accept the permission she gives. Okay?

There the Talmud says: Rav Assi said, from where in the Torah do we know “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted”? As it is stated: “I gave my daughter to this man as a wife.” “To a man” prohibited her; “this” permitted her. Right? “I gave my daughter to a man”—“to a man” basically means some man, which could be anyone. What? No, no, no—it turns her into a married woman and she is forbidden to the whole world. Right? Not only that—we also don’t know to whom she is forbidden. Right, he hasn’t yet said to whom. Then suddenly he says, “to this one.” So he permitted her to that specific husband; to others she is forbidden. And from this the Talmud says: if he was believed to prohibit—because if there were witnesses that she is a married woman and now he says, yes, and married to this one, that would not be “the mouth that prohibited.” But if he is the source of the information that she is married at all, and he also says she is married to this man, that is really “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted.” Okay?

So also in the phrase “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted,” and also in this example, you very, very strongly sense this “either way.” You cannot accept my words by halves; either you accept everything I say, or you accept nothing I say. Right. Now here, notice, it’s not so much the third explanation; it’s more the fourth explanation. The third explanation, which says “don’t use what I gave you against me”—here it’s not a question of against me or not against me; here we aren’t speaking about against me or not against me, but rather: don’t accept my words by halves. Meaning, if you accept the “to a man,” accept also the “this,” or don’t accept either of them. I think the fourth explanation comes out very strongly from here—also in the wording “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted.” So either you accept what this mouth says or you don’t accept it, but you can’t accept the prohibition and not accept the permission. Okay?

On that the Talmud says: why do I need a verse? It’s logical. It’s logic. He prohibited her and he permitted her. Why do we need a verse? You’re learning it from a verse? It’s simple logic. I would say that even without the verse. By the way, one could discuss here—fine, the verse teaches this logic, what’s the problem? When there is a verse, does that mean there is no logic? If we learn it from a verse, fine, but the verse says it—why did it say it? Apparently there is also some logic in it, otherwise why would the verse say it? So the fact that there is—but when there is a verse, it makes it stronger, Torah-level… Everything is Torah-level; logic too is Torah-level. Yes. That is the Talmud’s assumption: why do I need a verse? It’s logical. Otherwise there would be no question. “Why do I need a verse?” To make it Torah-level? On the contrary—that’s what the medieval and later authorities bring as proof from this question: that something that emerges from logic has the status of Torah-level, because otherwise this question has no place. Why do I need a verse to make it Torah-level? What do you mean why do I need a verse? Meaning then why… why not? I mean…

The Talmud asks “why do I need a verse? It’s logical.” The Talmud says: true, rather, the verse was said for something else—slandering a yavam, not important—and this indeed comes from logic. That is the Talmud’s conclusion. Why is it Torah-level? What? Why is it Torah-level? Because logic is Torah-level. When we interpret a verse, we use our reason. And if we say this is not from a verse but from logic—the reasoning that if he prohibited her, then he permitted her—that’s reason. This logic tells me how judicial procedure is conducted. It says, “Judge your fellow with justice.” What is justice? How do we judge? So these rules interpret the verse “Judge your fellow with justice.”

Now, a verse never says anything without the interpretation attached to it. Meaning, a verse has content only when you interpret it. Therefore you cannot disconnect your interpretation of the verse from the verse itself. If only the verse itself were Torah-level but the interpretations were rabbinic, there would be no Torah-level laws in the Torah. When there is a verse—but if there is no verse? But there is a verse here: “Judge your fellow with justice.” We just understand through logic what “justice” means. Justice is, for example, “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted.” You don’t need a verse that teaches this principle itself. You need a verse that requires judging justly, according to the laws of evidence, according to fair and reasonable rules. So “justice” is logic—as if, when I use reason? Morality, legal logic, yes. And that’s called from the Torah? Yes. Therefore this logic is logic that explains to me what it means to judge justly—but the Torah says to judge justly. So therefore this is interpretive logic. Okay?

I’m saying: there is logic that creates laws, not interprets existing laws, and there it’s not at all clear whether it’s Torah-level or rabbinic—that’s a more complicated story. But here I think the assumption is that it interprets the verse “Judge your fellow with justice.” But you don’t need a verse telling me the principle of “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted.” That’s what the Talmud asks. Obviously, it’s very logical that this is so—that’s what it means to judge justly. So what’s the problem? It’s already written “Judge your fellow with justice”; why do I need another verse? So as I said: even something that has logic—even something written in a verse, sorry—that doesn’t mean it has no explanation. It has a verse because it is true for some reason; therefore the verse says it. That is true. But if this is logic interpreting “Judge your fellow with justice,” then we already have the verse “Judge your fellow with justice”; we don’t need another verse for this. Therefore the Talmud asks: so why do we need the verse “I gave my daughter to this man”? No—it asks why; it says that from “I gave my daughter to this man” they really learn something else; they don’t learn it from there. So why a verse, why at all? You don’t need this verse. It is enough that it says “Judge your fellow with justice.” Why do I need that verse? But still, then they ask: why do I need a verse—it’s logic. Right. So it says: rather, when the verse is needed, it is needed according to Rav Huna, for something else. They learn something else from this verse. Why do I need a verse? Why? It does answer. You really don’t need the verse, only the logic. “The mouth that prohibited” comes from logic. He asks: what do we do with the verse? The verse teaches another law.

I wanted to say—not the whole verse, this extra word. “This,” yes. Fine, that’s what we’re talking about. But it’s the reverse. As if—if why—because I don’t see that the verse is about something. Why? If the verse is extra, then you have to learn something else from it. Not the whole verse, only one word from the verse. It doesn’t matter; I call that “a verse.” That word in the verse is extra. So if it’s extra for here, then we need to find what to do with it, and so we learn another law from it. What’s the problem? Very often in the Talmud it works like that. Isn’t it usually the other way—I derive from the verse something I wouldn’t derive from plain logic? Here too it’s the same. I learn from the verse the law that one cannot slander a yavam. I learn another law. Right? That other law is not something I would have derived from logic. It doesn’t matter. I have to do something with this verse that doesn’t come from logic alone. That “something else” can be either my own principle in a context that doesn’t come from logic, or another principle for which I have no other source. It doesn’t matter; there are many examples in both directions.

Okay. So that’s what the Talmud says, and therefore in the bottom line it comes from logic. This is also an interesting comment regarding the source of migo. If you had seen the Beit Yaakov—I brought you the Beit Yaakov; we’ll speak about it in a moment. But there is first of all a comment here that Rabbi Akiva Eiger makes. Rabbi Akiva Eiger says that in the case of “I was taken captive and I am pure,” which is not a monetary case but a case of prohibition, right? Not the monetary one. He says: here there is something completely different. Since the basis for why we accept her words at all, that she was taken captive, is not by virtue of testimony—she is not witnessing to that matter—but rather because of self-imposed prohibition. Meaning, a person who prohibits something upon himself, or prohibits himself, is believed. Why? Believed not in the sense that we accept that this is the fact, but rather if he wants to prohibit himself, let him prohibit himself; we won’t stand in his way.

Why is that not like “a person cannot make himself wicked”? It’s basically the same idea—he is saying something about himself. No, but this isn’t wickedness. It isn’t wickedness. But “a person cannot make himself wicked.” Right—that’s the difference. That’s the difference. A person cannot make himself wicked, but if a person prohibits himself or prohibits something upon himself, self-imposed prohibition—a person who prohibits this upon himself, am I going to tell him by force that it’s permitted to you? You prohibited it, you prohibited it—be well. Why should I interfere with you? And say she secluded herself with another man? Now she is forbidden to him. Even if it later becomes clear that she was right and he wasn’t wicked and nothing happened—he didn’t make a vow, he only said that she wasn’t okay—so he prohibited her to himself. It’s like admission by a litigant. You admit that she is forbidden to you? Fine, then act with prohibition. Fine, if that’s what you admit, what do you want us to do? Okay?

So on that Rabbi Akiva Eiger asks: yes, but here that doesn’t work. Because here she didn’t admit that she is forbidden. She said, “I was taken captive and I am pure.” So I’m not forbidden—she did not come to prohibit herself to herself. So how can we accept from her the fact that she was taken captive? Here Rabbi Akiva Eiger says: you don’t need to get to “the mouth that prohibited” in order to believe her that she is pure, because there isn’t even “the mouth that prohibited”; this isn’t testimony. Is he arguing on the Mishnah? As if he’s objecting to the Mishnah? He’s not arguing on it; he’s asking: why does the Mishnah say this belongs to “the mouth that prohibited”? That’s a difficulty. Okay?

He says: why does the Mishnah connect this to “the mouth that prohibited” at all? Let’s say there is someone in the world who does not accept “the mouth that prohibited,” just for the sake of argument—even so, he would agree with this Mishnah, because if a woman did not prohibit herself, how can you say self-imposed prohibition? What do you answer? I didn’t understand that at all, I didn’t understand that at all. Her goal was to permit herself? Exactly. Self-imposed prohibition means this: you want to prohibit something? To act with prohibition in something? Fine! Act with prohibition—what does that have to do with me? But that is when a woman really says: “I was taken captive.” Period. That’s it. You yourself want to put yourself into the status of a captive woman? Fine, who are we to stand in your way? But this woman did not come to prohibit herself. She is giving background, but in the end she comes to permit herself. She says, “I am pure.” No—that’s not “the mouth that prohibited.” Rabbi Akiva Eiger says that you don’t need to get here to “the mouth that prohibited”; she didn’t prohibit herself at all.

So when do you ever need it? “The mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted” is a type of credibility. After she prohibited herself and turned herself into a captive woman, and in that she is believed, because of “the mouth that prohibited” we will nevertheless believe her that she is pure. Rabbi Akiva Eiger says: here we won’t believe her at all that she was taken captive. You don’t need to say she is pure; she isn’t believed that she was taken captive at all. But there was a certain delta-t where she said “I was taken captive.” No, no—it was one statement. One statement. It doesn’t matter; it was one statement. As if he doesn’t accept that she can testify about herself? Right. Self-imposed prohibition is self-imposed—it’s not… this is in prohibitions, not testimony. If you say that a person’s credibility about himself is by force of testimony, that’s another discussion. But he assumes this is like a vow. Meaning, as if—you want to prohibit yourself? Fine, we won’t interfere. But here the person didn’t prohibit himself—what do you want? She didn’t come to prohibit herself; she came to permit herself. The statement is “I was taken captive and I am pure.” He understands “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted” to mean: we believe you that you were taken captive. Right? We believe you that you were taken captive. Since you were the one who prohibited, we will also believe you that you were purified. Right?

Wait, wait, wait. Rabbi Akiva Eiger says: no, what do you mean? We don’t believe… wait, we don’t believe you that you were taken captive at all. Why should we believe you? Why not? Why yes? You are a litigant! If you say only “I was taken captive,” then I would believe her. Why? Not believe her, but I would accept that she has to act with prohibition. Self-imposed prohibition—she imposed a prohibition upon herself, so let her act accordingly. But that’s not credibility; I don’t believe her that she was taken captive. Rabbi Akiva Eiger says: fine, but that certainly doesn’t exist here, because she didn’t prohibit herself. So what’s the problem? There is no credibility, and she didn’t prohibit herself, so why is “the mouth that prohibited” needed at all? There is nothing here.

Is being in captivity not a matter of prohibiting herself? No. No—did she come to prohibit herself? But if she said “I was taken captive and I am pure,” then she didn’t prohibit herself; she says she is permitted. She came to say that she is permitted—that’s what she came to say. The point is important.

In light of the explanations I gave earlier for “the mouth that prohibited,” his question is not correct. Right, because that’s exactly the idea of “the mouth that prohibited.” It’s not… He assumes that “the mouth that prohibited” means I accept the part that “it belonged to his ancestors,” and I believe you in order to extract from that. I said: no, insofar as you don’t believe me to extract, I don’t know at all that it belonged to his ancestors. I’m not prepared to concede at all that it belonged to his ancestors if you won’t accept the qualification that I also bought it from them. That’s the whole idea of “the mouth that prohibited.” Meaning, Rabbi Akiva Eiger assumes that “the mouth that prohibited” is evidence that works on a double plane: first of all, they believe you in what you prohibited; since you were the one who prohibited, then the fact that you permitted takes out from what you created in the prohibition. Like: I created for you the possession, the whole framework, because I said that it belonged to your ancestors. Since I was the one, I am believed to remove from you and say I bought it from them. Then he is right, because there that doesn’t work that way; there this isn’t credibility. But according to what I’m saying now, it doesn’t belong to the issue at all. Even if there it isn’t credibility and here it is.

First of all, even in self-imposed prohibition there are views that it is credibility. But even if it isn’t credibility, it doesn’t matter, because here too it works the same way. Here too we do not believe the part that it belonged to his ancestors; we do not accept his admission that it belonged to his ancestors, because his admission that it belonged to his ancestors did not come to incriminate himself; this is not admission by a litigant, it doesn’t go against me. It goes in my favor. So we don’t believe it. The nice point that comes out of this is that they don’t really believe it. They don’t believe that it belonged to his ancestors and then believe that I bought it. They do not accept my admission that it belonged to his ancestors at all. Because insofar as it belonged to his ancestors, I also bought it. And if not, then it didn’t belong to his ancestors at all. So there is no point—we do not accept that matter at all. Okay? We do not accept from him the admission that it belonged to the other person’s ancestors at all. That is the point.

And that’s also what is written in the second Mishnah. Here I can’t not believe her that she was divorced. I didn’t understand. Do we have to establish her with the presumption of being divorced? I can’t not believe her? No—if she says not. I don’t believe her that she was a married woman except insofar as she was divorced. To the extent that… beyond the qualification. And I’m prepared to give her the status of a divorced woman, but there is no stage… no. There is no stage in which she was a married woman and afterward I need to believe her that she got divorced. There’s no such thing. She is a married woman only insofar as I accepted that she was already divorced. Not one millimeter beyond that. If I don’t believe her that she got divorced, then the first part, that she was a married woman, is also irrelevant. Exactly. Then the part that she had been a married woman also won’t be accepted. No, all that she is a married woman is only insofar as she got divorced. Meaning, it’s not… it’s not like you said that there’s some moment when I say, “Okay, it belonged to his ancestors; since that came from me, believe me to remove it from them.” No. Everything I accept is that it belonged to his ancestors only in order to accept the claim that I bought it from him. Only until… only up to that point. What’s the idea? What’s novel here? It’s the explanation I gave earlier. Okay, and therefore I say that Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s difficulty is not difficult. I gave the earlier explanation in advance, so you don’t understand Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s question. But the simplest… No, that means this can only be the fourth explanation, not, for example, an explanation where… Right. Right. Right. And therefore what matters here is that it be within the span of speech, so that it will be as if… Maybe. Exactly. This now begins the discussion of “within the span of speech,” which will come in a moment—and I hope it will come in a moment.

Okay, so that’s Rabbi Akiva Eiger. The Kovetz Shiurim enters the question whether this is credibility or not credibility. He says that Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s difficulty doesn’t work unless you understand self-imposed prohibition as a kind of vow, not as a kind of credibility. As I said now—that’s not correct. That difficulty is resolved even if you say it is credibility, whether you say it is… like a vow. It’s not really a vow, it’s like one.

Okay, now within that discussion, by the way, the Kovetz Shiurim brings in the question of what happens if witnesses came after she said “I was a married woman and I am divorced,” or “I was taken captive and I am pure,” and then witnesses came that she was taken captive or that she had been a married woman. That’s the last topic I added for you today on the sheet. What happens if witnesses came—before the court permitted her, or before—or after, I don’t know. They didn’t come. They didn’t come. But after… in any event, after she already spoke. Okay? Why does he bring it in? He brings it in according to his approach, because he of course understands it as… yes, exactly. But if it’s as I’m saying, as I said earlier, then it’s irrelevant. Fine—to that we’ll get in a moment at the end of the class.

Another note: the source of the law of migo. So the Beit Yaakov asks… yes, the Beit Yaakov says: from where do we know “the mouth that prohibited”? Apparently it is difficult, for migo is from the Torah, as Tosafot wrote earlier on page 18. And it is known that “the mouth that prohibited” is preferable to migo. And we already brought examples of why “the mouth that prohibited” is preferable to migo. Since a verse is needed for “the mouth that prohibited” according to the current initial assumption, then even if there is a verse for “the mouth that prohibited,” still from where do we know that migo is from the Torah?

Fine. What does the Talmud… The Talmud on page 22 asked: why do we need a verse for “the mouth that prohibited,” right? After all, we have logic. And you tell me that “the mouth that prohibited” is stronger than migo, right? Let’s say that “the mouth that prohibited” comes from logic. Fine? That is also the Talmud’s conclusion on page 22, right? It’s not a verse; the verse goes for something else; this comes from logic. So where does migo come from? Migo is a weaker logic. Or alternatively, if it comes from the verse and not from logic… In the initial assumption they brought a verse. Afterward they rejected it because they said there is logic. At the first stage they thought it was a verse, right? Once it is a verse, Rabbi Akiva Eiger asks: then where does migo come from? The verse tells you “the mouth that prohibited” because it is very strong. But migo, which is weaker—who said it exists? The subtext is: you should have known from the start that this is logic, because migo certainly comes from logic and not from a verse, and in fact they do accept migo. So what is the Talmud even hesitating about with “the mouth that prohibited”? That is the other side of the same coin. Yes? That’s basically what he asks.

Why did they continue… Could it not be that “the mouth that prohibited,” which is stronger, is stronger because it comes from a verse, while migo is weaker because it comes from logic and not from a verse? No, because we said that logic is Torah-level, so there is no difference. Torah-level—the exact same thing. He asks: how could the Talmud in its initial assumption think that “the mouth that prohibited” comes from a verse—and migo, where does that come from? After all, migo does not come from the verse; it comes from logic. So if migo comes from logic and it is weaker, then “the mouth that prohibited,” which is stronger, certainly comes from logic. So what initial assumption is there to learn it from a verse? Why look for a verse at all? Why wasn’t migo enough for us to begin with? Exactly.

Now of course one can always answer that this is exactly the Talmud’s answer. Right—in the initial assumption maybe the Talmud thought that “the mouth that prohibited” comes from a verse and migo does not exist in the Torah. It won’t have a basis… The Talmud says no—that’s not true; it is logic. What logic? The logic of migo. The logic of “the mouth that prohibited” is logic, and therefore both migo and “the mouth that prohibited” come from logic, and the verse is needed for something else. That is the Talmud’s answer itself. He asks a question on the question. He says: maybe the question is a good one—but that itself is what the Talmud answers. When the Talmud finally answers that “the mouth that prohibited” comes from logic, one can say that migo also comes from logic, so what’s the problem? In the initial assumption it really is difficult that they thought a verse was needed for it. Fine—not terrible. A difficulty on an initial assumption is a weak difficulty, because you can always say that this itself is what was newly taught in the answer.

But I’m saying more than that. After all, “the mouth that prohibited” is stronger than migo, right? But it also does more than migo. It does more than migo. After all, “the mouth that prohibited” can extract from someone in possession, for example. Migo cannot extract from someone in possession. And several other things, right? We saw several things—to exempt from an oath and some other things. So wait—what does that mean? Look, there’s a slightly subtler issue here.

Suppose that “the mouth that prohibited” comes from a verse. So the Beit Yaakov asks: then where does migo come from? If there is no logic, and “the mouth that prohibited” comes from a verse, then I have no source for migo, and a logic weaker than “the mouth that prohibited” certainly wouldn’t work—so there should be no such thing as migo in the Torah at all, right? Answer: not true. If you are talking about migo to extract, then you are right, because “the mouth that prohibited” used to extract comes from a verse. But if you are talking about migo to maintain possession, that could come from logic even in the initial assumption. After all, “the mouth that prohibited” is not only stronger than migo, but also has more power in court than migo, and that has implications for its force. It could be that all the Talmud asked was not “from where do we know that the mouth that prohibited is from the Torah” in the sense of where do we know the logic of “the mouth that prohibited,” but rather: from where do we know that such logic, which we understand regarding migo—but regarding migo it cannot extract—who says that in “the mouth that prohibited” it can also extract? So on that the Talmud says: there is a verse. And then the Talmud rejects that: no, it comes from logic—even for that you don’t need a verse. But then there isn’t even a difficulty on the Talmud’s initial assumption. That’s what I’m saying.

It’s true that “the mouth that prohibited” is stronger than migo, but it is also used for something stronger than migo. On the one hand, yes—I would formulate it this way: if I knew migo from logic, I would still need a verse for “the mouth that prohibited.” That doesn’t contradict anything, because I would learn by a fortiori reasoning that “the mouth that prohibited” is also effective, right—but only to maintain possession. But “the mouth that prohibited” is also effective to extract—how do I know that? That is what the Talmud asks. And to that it says: for that there is a verse. For the extra little edge—that it can extract, the advantages that “the mouth that prohibited” has over migo—that is what needs a verse. Not the basic logic. The basic logic—you are right—“the mouth that prohibited” is stronger than migo, and if migo comes from logic, then “the mouth that prohibited” certainly comes from the same logic; no problem there. But the Talmud asks: from where would I know that “the mouth that prohibited” is also stronger than migo and can extract? That is the question.

And even according to Maimonides, who holds that migo also works to extract, still “the mouth that prohibited” has advantages over migo according to Maimonides, in that he concedes to Rabbi Yehoshua—yes, there are advantages to “the mouth that prohibited.” So where do we know that from? For that there is a verse. Therefore, in my opinion, the question is not difficult in any case.

In any event, he says that in “the mouth that prohibited”—sorry—there is also an element of weakness compared to migo, and that is the novelty. In “the mouth that prohibited” there is an element of weakness compared to migo; therefore a verse was needed. Why? Because in “the mouth that prohibited” you are basically saying the claim that obligates you, and afterward you say the claim that exempts you. Once you said the claim that obligates you, it has already been accepted—admission by a litigant. Now the second claim—who says it helps? In migo, after all, I don’t say the claim that obligates me; I say the weaker claim and I could have made the other claim. Here I say both things. So the first claim that I said—I am believed to obligate myself, and that’s it. Now who says that afterward I can come with another claim and say, wait, wait, but believe me that I could have not said the first claim? The first claim has already been said—it’s gone, that’s it, it has been said. And they can stop you in the middle of the sentence and say: that’s it, we won’t hear more from you. No, I’m saying more than “we won’t hear more from you.” I’m willing to hear everything; I just won’t believe the second part. Why? Because this is what Tosafot in Bava Batra call—whoever learned chapter three of Bava Batra—retroactive migo. The migo says: look, if I had been a liar yesterday, I could have claimed something else. We do not say such a migo; that is retroactive migo. Only now do I have a migo. Meaning, if now I could have made another claim instead of this claim, that gives me a migo. But if now I make a claim where now I no longer have another alternative—only I no longer have another alternative because of something I did yesterday—and then I say: wait, if I were a liar, then yesterday I wouldn’t have done what trapped me today—that is retroactive migo, and we do not say that. The migo has to be an option available to me now, at the time I make the claim.

Now in “the mouth that prohibited” it is retroactive migo, because she says: “I was a married woman.” Now she has boxed herself in; she can no longer say, “I am not a married woman,” right? Now she says: “I am divorced.” After you said that you were a married woman, now you claim that you are divorced. Once you claimed that you are divorced, you could no longer say “I’m not a married woman”—you already admitted that you are a married woman. That’s retroactive migo.

And that’s exactly the opposite of the logic of “the mouth that prohibited”—as if, it’s exactly the opposite. Obviously—that’s what he says. Therefore he says, unlike everything we’ve said until now—that “the mouth that prohibited” has strengths compared to migo—there is also something weaker in “the mouth that prohibited” compared to migo, because “the mouth that prohibited” is a retroactive migo. At the stage when you make the weaker claim, you can no longer switch it and not make the stronger claim, because you already made that stronger claim earlier. True, it was one second earlier—not important—but still earlier. And here enters the whole discussion of “within the span of speech” and everything…

The stronger claim here would be that I was never married. To whom? Yes. Exactly. Or to remain silent, depending on Rashi, depending, yes. Okay? So he says: I already made that claim. Now I come and claim “I am divorced” or “I am pure.” Now I can no longer say “never happened,” because a moment ago I said I was a married woman or that I was taken captive. But that’s really weak—what do you mean? Because obviously here, on the side of “the mouth that permitted,” he’s acting as though only the mouth… No, but “the mouth that prohibited” was said first; “the mouth that permitted” was said afterward. But it’s as if he doesn’t accept the rule… No, it matters, because at the stage where you say the side of permission, you no longer have a migo. You no longer have a migo. You say, “I was a married woman and I am divorced”… what is it that you want to be believed about? About “I was a married woman,” you are certainly believed—you don’t need migo for that. About that you are certainly believed. You want to be believed about “I am divorced,” right? But the credibility of “I am divorced” is by force of a migo that I could have said “I’m single.” But you couldn’t have said that—yesterday you said that you are a married woman. Today you can’t say that you are single.

But if on one day, in one utterance—not one day—and you say “I am divorced,” that’s what you say. Of course that includes that you were married, but once you say “I am divorced,” you could also have said “I am single,” because there was no prior stage where you disclosed that you were already a married woman and boxed yourself in. Therefore you have a migo. If you do it in two stages, you no longer have a migo at the second stage. And you need the migo at the second stage. And that is what the verse teaches: that even though the mechanism of migo is not here because it is retroactive migo, the verse teaches that in “the mouth that prohibited” it will nevertheless work. In a case where there is a time gap. Yes. But “the mouth that prohibited” always has a time gap, because if you didn’t prohibit, what is there for me to permit? I understand. Also the case of the land, okay? Where he said “it belonged to your father and I bought it”—it’s the same thing. No. Why? I could have said “I bought it from your father.” Well, if I said “it belonged to your father”… No. No. That contains the two pieces of information, but they were said together. In such a case I do have a migo. If I say “I bought it from your father,” then when I say “I bought it from your father” I could also have said “single”—that it never belonged to your father at all, right? But if I say “it belonged to your father and I bought it from him,” seemingly I said the same information, but because I said it in two stages, then after the first stage I can no longer say “it didn’t belong to your father.” So when I say “I bought it from him,” I no longer have the migo that I could have said “it wasn’t his.”

So then what’s the difference between… No, if I were to say… “I was a married woman and got divorced”—that’s at the same time. What’s the difference? It’s the same thing. It’s not at the same time; it’s one after the other. No, I’m giving a case where it’s at the same time. Not at the same time—it’s always one after the other. You want to say “remember” and “observe” in one utterance? What? It’s one word after another. I asked for an example where a day had passed. Right—even if one second passed, what difference does it make whether it’s a day or a second? The difference between saying… wait, wait. She doesn’t have to say “I was a married woman”; she can simply say “I am divorced.” So that’s what Noa asked earlier, and I said: in that case the Beit Yaakov would say that indeed you don’t need the verse. That is “the mouth that prohibited” from logic. It is learned by a fortiori reasoning from migo. But “the mouth that prohibited” also works if I said it in two separate utterances. And that I would not know without the verse. That’s what he wants to say. Right, there is also a form of “the mouth that prohibited” for which you don’t need the verse—but there is also this type, and that is enough for us to need the verse.

Of course, he limits it to “within the span of speech.” His assumption—his assumption—is that only “within the span of speech” can it work even after the verse. But still, even within the span of speech, were it not for the verse, perhaps I would not have said it. That’s his claim. Right, there was separation, the migo was gone. Yes. Why? That’s a completely real difference. What do you mean? A completely real difference. She doesn’t have a migo in the second part of the statement. What do you mean? Really, she doesn’t have a migo. No, “I was a married woman and got divorced.” Does “got divorced” have a migo? But “I was a married woman and got divorced”—when I say the words “and got divorced,” there is no longer a migo. So is “the mouth that prohibited” stronger than migo? Yes. Right—that’s what he says. But then that doesn’t fit with Rabbi Yehoshua, who doesn’t accept… No, no, no—it does fit, it does fit. It fits because it is weaker than migo in the sense that it is retroactive migo, and stronger in all the aspects we said before. He says: if there were no verse, I wouldn’t know whether to learn it from migo or not to learn it from migo. The verse comes and says: no, no, this is perfectly fine, this too works—and therefore all the strengths now continue.

Of course, afterward, in the conclusion that everything comes from logic anyway, there’s nothing to talk about—then it remains that everything is stronger, so there is no problem at all. Why in the end is it stronger? Because all the explanations we said before remain in place; it is stronger. There is a certain side from which it is weaker; the verse rules that out. That side does not interfere. You said that because of the time gaps, it comes out as retroactive migo and therefore weaker. And despite the strengths of “the mouth that prohibited,” still we would not have said it. Then the verse comes, and then we know that no—that’s not a problem, and now all the strengths that existed before transfer to “the mouth that prohibited.” Exactly. Correct.

But as I said before, I don’t think his whole move is necessary. I don’t think we need that. In my opinion, the need for the verse is because “the mouth that prohibited” knows how to do other things that migo doesn’t know how to do. The question is where I would know that from. If I had learned “the mouth that prohibited” from migo, I would never have imagined that “the mouth that prohibited” can extract. On that the Talmud asks: from where do we know “the mouth that prohibited”? What does “from where do we know the mouth that prohibited” mean? From where do we know that “the mouth that prohibited”… So now he gave two explanations for the Talmud’s initial assumption. First, because migo is stronger. Second, because migo is weaker. Right. Right. And the third thing—and the third possibility—is that maybe in the initial assumption he is right, but the Talmud’s conclusion is simply not like that. Right—in the initial assumption he is right, good difficulty. That’s exactly what the Talmud answers: that everything comes from logic, and that’s it; truly no verse is needed. Okay.

Now, the question whether “the mouth that prohibited” is migo or not. So the Machaneh Ephraim—by the way, where are you holding with the sheet I sent? We finished. And you? I said we should give her more assignments. Okay, no, but the others. Yael, where are you holding? No, we got to… I’m on page thirteen. What does “thirteen” mean? In the words? I’m before that. Did you see the Machaneh Ephraim? No, not yet. Fine. We’ll continue a bit more in the next class—or half, I assume it will still take up half of the next class—and continue onward. Whoever finished the sheet, I already added one more section on this sheet; I’ll expand it before the next meeting, the continuation of the Talmud, yes.

Okay. I still want to complete it a bit, because these are really foundational matters. So, okay. Pass me the radio. Just kidding—some communications adviser is sitting there saying all kinds of things that… What are you saying? He says to him, I don’t know, because listen, it’s really exactly like bari and shema. So first of all, I said, how nice—I understand what he’s saying. And second, the announcer didn’t understand what he was saying. Avi, he didn’t understand what he was saying. And besides that, you can see he’s a Torah scholar. He knows what bari and shema means. That’s already an expression in Hebrew—bari and shema. Some Channel 14 commentator—over such a thing you need to count seven clean days. That’s what he said to him, right? Right, he didn’t understand what he was saying. Fine. Be well, all of you. Yes.

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