Lesson 14: Category 5 — The Eleventh Root

From the book Roots Outstretched by Rabbi Michael Avraham. Translated from Hebrew using gpt-5.4 (reasoning_effort=high, batch API).

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With God’s help

The Eleventh Root

One should not count the parts of a mitzvah (commandment) individually, part by part, when their combination constitutes a single mitzvah.

On the Relation Between the Parts and the Whole

A Discussion of the Nature of Concepts

Our present essay deals with the Eleventh Root, which establishes that one should not count separately particulars that are parts of a more comprehensive mitzvah, such as each of the Four Species. This root belongs to the fifth category of roots, which deals with classification and categorization, and it largely parallels Root Twelve, which the next essay will discuss.

By the very nature of this category, it appears that here too we are dealing with a purely technical principle, one without any halakhic (that is, legal, in the sense of Jewish law) implications. The parts of the mitzvah are, according to all views, fully binding halakhic obligations. The discussion of this root therefore concerns only the question of how they should be treated in the enumeration of the commandments.

And yet, as in the previous cases, we shall see that here too the positions under discussion rest upon broader principles. These principles touch on halakha (Jewish law), but no less on the way we conceive of concepts in the philosophy of science and beyond.

Since classification and categorization are central to science, and to human thought in general, we should not be surprised that in our essays on the roots of the fifth category issues arise that also concern the philosophy of science and human cognition in general. In the previous essay, we examined the logical basis for our generalizations and causal determinations in science, in interpretation, and in general. In the present essay, we will consider our cognition of abstract concepts, that is, ideas. If the previous essay largely paralleled the first section of the book Two Carts and a Hot-Air Balloon, which dealt with thought and logical inference, then the present essay parallels the book’s second section, which dealt with epistemology. See there regarding the connection between the positions presented in the two sections. As we explained there, these are different aspects of the same two approaches: the analytic and the synthetic, or in the terminology of the previous essay, the empiricist and the rationalist. This point will be discussed in the final chapter of our essay.

A. The Course of Maimonides’ Discussion in This Root

Introduction

We begin with an annotated quotation of Maimonides’ words in the present root. The matter will later be developed further from additional sources.

The Formulation of the Principle in the Heading

Even the heading of the root appears problematic at first glance:

One should not count the parts of a mitzvah individually, part by part, when their combination constitutes a single mitzvah.

At first glance this seems to be a tautology, a mere logical identity: once we already know that something is not a complete mitzvah but only part of a mitzvah, of course it should not be counted as an independent commandment. If these are different parts of one comprehensive mitzvah, then obviously only the comprehensive mitzvah should be counted. The real question is: how do we know that these are different parts rather than different mitzvot? And if we already know that, what novelty is there in saying that they are not to be counted separately?

To understand this, we must ask a different question: when Maimonides speaks about parts of a mitzvah as opposed to separate mitzvot, does he mean this in the halakhic sense, or only in the technical sense relevant to the enumeration of the commandments? As we have already noted more than once, there are cases in which, from a halakhic standpoint, there are two mitzvot, yet in the enumeration of the commandments they are counted as one. For example, in Root Nine we saw that the prohibitions of neshekh and tarbit are two separate negative commandments, as Maimonides explicitly writes at the beginning of chapter 4 of Laws of Lender and Borrower, and yet in the enumeration of the commandments they appear as a single prohibition. If so, in our case too, does Maimonides mean to claim that the Four Species are one mitzvah in the halakhic sense, or only that they should be counted as one mitzvah in the enumeration of the commandments, even though on the halakhic plane they are really four different mitzvot?[^1] Let us note that the opposite situation seems implausible, and we know of no such example: namely, several parts that halakhically constitute one mitzvah, yet nevertheless appear separately in the enumeration of the commandments.

From the course of Maimonides’ discussion, and from the absence of explicit reasons, as we shall see, it appears that he intends both planes here. In other words, in his view the parts of a mitzvah combine into one mitzvah on the halakhic plane, and therefore they must also be counted as one mitzvah in the enumeration of the commandments.

If that is indeed his intention, then the question we raised about the principle stated in the heading is also resolved. This is not a tautology at all, for he is claiming that parts of a mitzvah, in the halakhic sense, are counted as one mitzvah in the enumeration of the commandments. His claim is that, at least with respect to parts of a mitzvah, there is a necessary link between these two planes: halakhic status determines the way something appears in the enumeration of the commandments. As stated, this is not a tautology, because as we saw in other contexts, such as interest, no such necessary connection exists between the two planes.

Delimiting the Scope of This Root

At the beginning of his discussion, Maimonides defines the domain of the present root:

Sometimes a single command, which is one mitzvah, has many parts. For example, the mitzvah of lulav, positive commandment 169, which consists of four species. We do not say that the fruit of a beautiful tree is a mitzvah before itself, and palm branches are a mitzvah before themselves, and a bough of a leafy tree is a mitzvah before itself, and willows of the brook are a mitzvah before themselves. For all these are parts of the mitzvah. For He commanded that they be gathered together, and after they are gathered, the mitzvah is the taking of all of them together in the hand on the designated day.

As stated, Maimonides is speaking here about parts of a mitzvah. His first and most obvious example is the Four Species that we take on Sukkot. Maimonides rules that they are not to be counted as four different mitzvot, but as one mitzvah, because the Torah itself commanded their “gathering together”; that is, we are required to take all four together.

Let us recall that in Root Seven we saw the distinction between the subject matter of that root and the subject matter of this one, and with respect to Root Twelve we will discuss the matter, God willing, in the next essay. There we explained that Root Seven concerns different applications of the same mitzvah, such as the sliding-scale offering, or the different death penalties imposed on women who committed different forms of adultery, whereas here the discussion concerns parts of a single mitzvah-act. There, each application appeared alone in different circumstances; here, the parts all appear together each time the mitzvah is fulfilled.

The Four Species: The Act as That Which Unifies the Parts

From Maimonides’ reasoning in the previous paragraph, it appears that his reason is that we are dealing with one mitzvah-act, that is, one act performed as a single whole, and therefore it makes no sense to split it up and count each part as an independent mitzvah. To what may this be compared? To counting holding the lulav in the hand as one mitzvah, then lifting it as another, then raising it upward and waving it, though waving is not strictly part of the mitzvah itself, and so on. All these are parts of a single mitzvah-act, and therefore there is no reason to split them up in the enumeration of the commandments. So too with taking the Four Species: it is one mitzvah-act, and there is no reason to divide it.

Another Example: The Purification of the Leper

Maimonides now moves to another example:

By the same reasoning, it is not proper to count the Torah’s statement regarding the leper, that he is purified by two living birds, cedar wood, hyssop, scarlet thread, living water, and an earthen vessel, as six mitzvot. Rather, the purification of the leper is one mitzvah, positive commandment 110, in all its forms, together with whatever is required for it from these things and others, namely the shaving. For all these are parts of the mitzvah with which we were commanded, namely the purification of the leper, and that it be done in this manner.

At first glance, Maimonides is repeating himself. The purification procedure of the leper is composed of several parts, and those too must be counted as one mitzvah. Here, however, the performance is sequential, unlike the Four Species, and it involves different acts rather than one physical act. Nevertheless, Maimonides sees this as another example of the very same principle.

Moreover, here the reason is not that this is one mitzvah-act on the physical plane, as in the previous example, but that it is defined as one mitzvah. In light of our earlier clarification, we can now say that the definition is on the halakhic plane, and from that we infer a conclusion regarding the plane of the enumeration of the commandments.

But this example already raises the most basic difficulty in this root: how can we determine when we are dealing with parts of one mitzvah and when with different mitzvot? Maimonides offers no criterion here, and it seems that he assumes the matter is self-evident. In the previous example, the criterion was the physical mode of performance, when the parts are performed together. But here that is not the case, and no other criterion is supplied.

It is, however, possible that since the basis of the discussion is halakhic, namely that these are parts of one mitzvah on the halakhic plane, Maimonides leaves the matter to halakhic discussion, which is not his concern in the roots. Here he merely establishes that from the conclusions of the halakhic discussion we must also infer the proper way these mitzvot should appear in the enumeration of the commandments.

Still, even on the halakhic plane it is not clear how one can determine that these are parts of a mitzvah rather than separate mitzvot, at least in examples of this kind.

The Mark of the Leper: The Goal as That Which Unifies the Parts

In the next paragraph, Maimonides brings another example, from the obligation to create a distinguishing mark for the leper during his impurity:

The same reasoning applies to the sign we were commanded to make for the leper during his impurity, so that people would distance themselves from him. This is what Scripture says, “His garments shall be torn, his head shall be left bare, he shall cover over his upper lip, and he shall cry out, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’” None of these actions is a mitzvah before itself; rather, their combination is the mitzvah, positive commandment 112, namely that we were commanded to make a sign for the leper so that everyone who sees him will recognize him and distance himself from him, and that recognition is achieved in this way.

So too with what He commanded us, “You shall rejoice before the Lord your God” on the first day of Sukkot, and it is clear that this rejoicing is to be achieved by taking such-and-such.

Here too the Torah requires several acts: that his garments be torn, that he call out “Unclean! Unclean!”, that his hair remain untrimmed, and so forth. But here there is already some reason for determining that this is one mitzvah, namely that these acts are not the mitzvah at all. The mitzvah is to ensure that the leper has an identifying mark so that the the public will distance itself from him. In other words, all these acts have one goal, and that goal itself is the mitzvah, not the acts as such. Therefore, we are dealing here with parts of one mitzvah rather than different mitzvot.

Here Maimonides mentions another example of parts unified by a common purpose, namely rejoicing on the festival. We may add that, in light of what is said here, the purification of the leper may perhaps also be explained in the same way. There too, the parts combine to bring about the desired end, namely the purification of the leper, and that is why they are counted as one mitzvah.

At first glance, however, this is an instance of deriving law from the verse’s stated reason. Scripture informs us of the purpose of the mitzvah, and from that Maimonides draws a conclusion regarding the enumeration of the commandments. Yet as is well known, and as we discussed in our essay on Root Five, as a matter of halakha we do not derive law from the stated rationale of the verse.

To be sure, at first glance this conclusion is not a halakhic conclusion, as we saw in the introductory essay, since the enumeration of the commandments has no direct halakhic significance. But as we saw there, halakhic consequences may certainly follow indirectly from it, by way of the overall count of the commandments. Moreover, as we explained above, the basic determination in this root is made on the halakhic plane, namely how many mitzvot are present here, and from that determination follows the conclusion regarding the enumeration of the commandments. And we have already noted that this halakhic determination does have halakhic consequences, for example regarding the total amount one must spend to fulfill the mitzvah. If so, the purpose of the mitzvah here certainly does have halakhic implications.

At first glance, this claim is not problematic here, because this is a case in which Scripture itself informs us of the reason for the mitzvah, rather than our deriving it on our own. But in our essay on Root Five we noted that, at least according to Maimonides, even in cases where Scripture itself states the reason for the mitzvah, we do not derive law from it. See there for the explanation.

In our essay on Root Five we explained that when the Torah explicitly states a reason, it does so in order to teach us something. Either it teaches an additional mitzvah, according to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, or it teaches something else. If so, it is certainly possible that in such cases the Torah wishes to teach us how these mitzvot are to be treated in the enumeration of the commandments. But according to the first anonymous tanna, whose view Maimonides follows, these are not halakhic conclusions, and therefore the matter still requires clarification.

The Criterion of Halakhic Indispensability

Maimonides now continues and says that there is a subtle point here, but before that he introduces the criterion we were seeking above:

This root is very subtle and difficult to understand. Its subtlety is as follows. Everything about which the Sages said that this thing and that thing are indispensable to one another, it is clear that they are one mitzvah. This is the case with the four species of the lulav, and with the showbread together with the pure frankincense that is prepared with it. Their language concerning this is, “The rows and the bowls are indispensable to one another.” It is therefore clear that this is one mitzvah. Likewise, whenever it becomes clear to you that the intended end cannot be attained by any one of those parts alone, it is clear that their combination is the matter that is counted. Thus regarding the identification of the leper, it is clear to you that if only his garments were torn, but his head was not left bare, and he did not cover his upper lip, and did not cry out “Unclean,” then he has done nothing and the identification has not been achieved until he does all of them. Likewise, his purification is not attained except through all that was mentioned of the birds, the cedar wood, the scarlet thread, the shaving, and so forth; only then does his purification come about.

Maimonides establishes that parts of a mitzvah that are mutually indispensable, or that together lead to a single goal, are counted as one mitzvah, because they also constitute one mitzvah on the halakhic plane. It therefore seems that this is the criterion: the halakhic discussion will determine whether the parts are indispensable to one another, and from that we shall learn that they are parts of a single mitzvah, not separate mitzvot. Above we saw two other criteria, a common goal and a single act, but those do not belong to the halakhic plane. The criterion of halakhic indispensability had not yet been mentioned. It belongs to the halakhic sphere, whereas the previous criteria belonged to the physical plane or to the plane of the verse’s rationale.

Clearly, the halakhic criterion is the most fundamental, and it is the one present in every case. But it is important to understand that it is not a substitute for the others. The question whether the parts are indispensable is an indication that they are parts of one comprehensive mitzvah, but it is not the reason that this is one mitzvah. It reflects the fact that this is one mitzvah. Therefore, the halakhic criterion does not contradict the earlier criteria. Those operate on meta-halakhic or physical levels, while this one expresses their consequences on the halakhic plane.

Let us again note that this root links the halakhic plane to the plane of the enumeration of the commandments. We now see that the movement is twofold: from the physical plane, or the meta-halakhic plane of reasons, we move to the halakhic plane; and from there we move to the plane of the enumeration of the commandments.

One obvious consequence of the fact that halakhic indispensability is not the true reason for this root but at most an indication is that sometimes, even where there is no halakhic indispensability, we are still dealing with one comprehensive mitzvah. That will be the subject of the next subsection.

The “Subtle” Point: Parts That Are Not Indispensable to One Another

Maimonides’ prefatory remark about the subtlety of this root was aimed at the next passage. In light of what was said above, we might have expected halakhic indispensability to be a necessary and sufficient criterion, meaning that parts not indispensable to one another would constitute different mitzvot and would therefore be counted separately. But Maimonides now says that the matter is not so simple:

The difficult point, however, concerns matters about which the Sages said that they are not indispensable to one another. For one might suppose that since each of these parts does not require the other, each part should be a mitzvah before itself. As they said: the blue thread is not indispensable to the white, and the white is not indispensable to the blue.

We might therefore have said that the white and the blue thread should be counted as two mitzvot, were it not for the explicit language we found in the Mekhilta of Rabbi Ishmael, where it says:

Could they be two mitzvot, the mitzvah of the blue thread and the mitzvah of the white thread? Scripture says, “And it shall be for you as fringes.” It is one mitzvah and not two mitzvot.

Maimonides argues that parts not indispensable to one another do not always constitute separate mitzvot. Sometimes they form one mitzvah, and are therefore counted as one. He bases this on the tradition of the Sages, which at times informs us that this is the case, as regarding the blue thread and the white threads in tzitzit, learned from the Mekhilta or from a parallel midrash in the Sifrei. More on this below.

Let us note again that Maimonides relies on the wording of the Sages, who tell us that this is one or two mitzvot. On the face of it, they mean the halakhic plane, but one need not necessarily infer from that conclusions about the enumeration of the commandments, as in the example of interest cited above. At first glance, Maimonides assumes that the discussion here concerns the enumeration of the commandments, and Nahmanides attacks him for this in his glosses here, as does Rabbi Yerucham Fischel Perlow in his comments on this root, where he too adduces the example of neshekh and tarbit. More on this below.

So far we have seen that there are situations in which parts of a mitzvah that are not indispensable to one another are nevertheless counted together. Maimonides brought proof of this from the Sages, but the principal question remains: why indeed are they counted in this way? What distinguishes those that are counted together from those that are counted separately? In the following passage Maimonides mentions, almost in passing, the criterion:

It has thus become clear to you that even parts that are not indispensable to one another may sometimes be one mitzvah, when the matter is one. For the purpose of tzitzit is “so that you may remember.” Therefore, everything that together produces the remembering is counted as one mitzvah.

Thus the white threads and the blue thread in tzitzit are counted as one mitzvah, even though they are not indispensable to one another, because the purpose of both is one: remembrance. Presumably he means not only that both the blue and the white are intended for remembrance, but that the act of remembering is effected by both together, through the contrast between the blue and the white. More on this below. Here again we return to the criterion of the purpose of the mitzvah as what gathers the parts into a single whole.

Maimonides now summarizes the “subtle” point and again defines the rationale of the mitzvah as the relevant criterion:

We are therefore not left with the criterion, in the enumeration of the commandments, of whether they are indispensable to one another or not, except with respect to one question only: whether it is one matter or many matters, as we explained in Root Nine among these roots that we are endeavoring to explain.

The reminder of Root Nine probably refers to what we saw in our essay on Root Seven. There we explained that Root Nine implies that for a mitzvah to be counted separately, it must have its own verse and its own unique content. If its content merely repeats that of another mitzvah, or it lacks a distinct verse, it is not counted as a separate mitzvah. Here each of the different parts has its own verse, since all appear in the Torah, but their contents combine into one overall content. This is a case of many verses and one content, and therefore only one mitzvah is present. See our essay on Root Seven for a fuller account.

Tzitzit and Tefillin

To conclude this chapter, let us add Maimonides’ words in two additional sources: the mitzvah of tefillin and the mitzvah of tzitzit. Most of the discussion surrounding Maimonides’ words here revolves around these mitzvot, which appear in the same Mishnah in Menachot. Let us note already that Maimonides counts tzitzit as one mitzvah, the blue and the white together, whereas tefillin he counts as two mitzvot, the arm-tefillin and the head-tefillin. In his discussion of this root, Maimonides addresses tzitzit and says that the blue and the white are one mitzvah because both are intended for remembrance. Regarding tefillin he says nothing here, because tefillin is the simpler case: they are not indispensable to one another, and therefore they are counted as two mitzvot.

The Mishnah in Babylonian Talmud, Menachot 38a, states:

The blue thread does not make the white indispensable, and the white does not make the blue indispensable. The arm-tefillin does not make the head-tefillin indispensable, and the head-tefillin does not make the arm-tefillin indispensable.

In both cases, the parts of the mitzvah are not indispensable to one another. This is derived from verses in the Talmudic discussion there.

Now Maimonides, in positive commandment 14, lists one positive commandment of tzitzit, and in the course of his discussion he writes:

Do not count it as two mitzvot, even though the principle accepted by us is that the blue thread does not make the white indispensable, and the white does not make the blue indispensable, Babylonian Talmud, Menachot 38a; for they said in the Sifrei: “Could they be two mitzvot, the mitzvah of the blue thread and the mitzvah of the white thread? Scripture says: ‘And it shall be for you as fringes’—it is one mitzvah and not two mitzvot.”

This repeats what Maimonides wrote in our root, though without the explanation, namely that the blue and the white are directed toward a common purpose, remembrance of the mitzvot. The reason is that here Maimonides adduces only a proof, not an explanation, as we explained above.

By contrast, in positive commandments 12 and 13 he lists two mitzvot with respect to tefillin, and this is how he explains the matter in the course of positive commandment 13:

The proof that the head-tefillin and the arm-tefillin are two mitzvot is what they said in the Gemara on Menachot 44a, in astonishment at one who thinks that if one does not have both head-tefillin and arm-tefillin before him, he should not put on one without the other. Their expression is: “Should one who does not have two mitzvot fail to perform even one mitzvah?” That is, one who cannot perform two mitzvot should not refrain from performing one. Rather, he should perform whichever mitzvah is in his hand, and so he should put on whichever of them he has. It has thus become clear to you that they called the head-tefillin and the arm-tefillin two mitzvot.

Since the mere fact that the two tefillin are not indispensable to one another is not an unambiguous indication regarding the enumeration of the commandments, as explained above, Maimonides here brings proof from the Sages that we count tefillin as two mitzvot. Here too, it seems that the proof comes from the language of the Sages, who call them “two mitzvot.” It has already been noted, however, that this proves nothing about the enumeration of the commandments, since the Sages are not discussing that topic, but the halakhic plane. But in light of what we said above, we understand that here too Maimonides derives from the halakhic determination the conclusion relevant to the enumeration of the commandments. More on this below.

B. Notes of the Rishonim on Maimonides’ Words

Introduction

In this chapter we will deal with Maimonides’ disagreements with other early authorities, namely Halakhot Gedolot, Rabbi Daniel the Babylonian, and Nahmanides. These disagreements help clarify and illuminate Maimonides’ own words as well.

Nahmanides’ Principal Objection:[^2] Did the Sages Deal with the Enumeration of the Commandments?

Nahmanides raises here a fundamental objection that touches the whole subject of the enumeration of the commandments, and therefore all the roots. In his view, the Sages did not deal with the enumeration of the commandments at all. When they speak of two mitzvot, they mean a claim on the halakhic plane, not on the technical plane of counting the commandments.

One wonders at the Rabbi: if according to this Mekhilta the blue and the white are not indispensable to one another, for what purpose did it teach there that they are one mitzvah and not two mitzvot? Did this tanna now come to count the 248 positive commandments and teach us that we should include the matter of tzitzit in our reckoning only as one mitzvah, positive commandment 14? Such a mistake is simply not plausible.

Nahmanides objects that, even if the Mekhilta is teaching normative halakha, as he will later question, what sense is there in asking whether this is one mitzvah or two? On the face of it, the whole point of the discussion is precisely to examine whether these parts are indispensable to one another or not. Nahmanides assumes as self-evident that the Talmud does not discuss the enumeration of the commandments as such, but rather only when it is seeking a concrete halakhic consequence. He even brings proof from the Talmudic passage there:

This is what we learned in our Mishnah in Menachot 28a, and it was also taught in the Sifrei: “The four fringes are indispensable to one another, because all four are one mitzvah. Rabbi Ishmael says: all four are four mitzvot.” From here you learn that when they say “one mitzvah” they mean that they are indispensable to one another, and the one who says they are not indispensable makes them into many mitzvot.

That is, when the Sages speak in terms of the number of mitzvot, they do so only for the sake of the question of halakhic indispensability, not because the enumeration of the commandments is an independent theoretical topic. By contrast, Maimonides, at least as Nahmanides understands him, thinks that when the Sages speak of mitzvot they also mean the enumeration of the commandments.

The Root of Nahmanides’ Position

It seems likely that Nahmanides here is consistent with his own position at the beginning of his glosses to Root One. There he emphasizes the lack of direct halakhic significance in the enumeration of the commandments and even wonders why one should engage in it at all. It therefore makes sense that he would prefer to interpret every discussion in the words of the Sages that deals with mitzvot as a discussion having meaning on the halakhic plane, rather than as a discussion of the enumeration of the commandments as an independent theoretical subject. In the introductory essay we addressed the question of the halakhic significance of engaging in the enumeration of the commandments.

Did the Sages Deal with the Enumeration of the Commandments? Maimonides’ Position

As stated, Nahmanides assumes that Maimonides saw things differently. He understands Maimonides as holding that the Sages dealt with the enumeration of the commandments itself, and not only with halakhic implications. Therefore, Maimonides can infer that if the Sages referred to something as two mitzvot, that means we too should count them as two mitzvot in our own list. Nahmanides, by contrast, would say that halakhically these may indeed be two mitzvot, but it does not follow that they must therefore appear separately in the enumeration of the commandments.

We have already cited above the example of neshekh and tarbit, where there are indeed two different transgressions, and Maimonides himself agrees to this at the beginning of chapter 4 of Laws of Lender and Borrower, yet they are nevertheless counted as a single mitzvah. This is an example showing that he too agrees that such a distinction can exist, as Nahmanides proposes. But here, on the other hand, he does indeed infer from the words of the Sages that tefillin are two mitzvot, and from that also draws the conclusion that they must be counted separately. It therefore seems that he understood the Sages to be dealing with the enumeration of the commandments, not only with halakhic questions. How can this be reconciled with his own position regarding neshekh and tarbit?

We may understand this in light of what we said at the beginning of the essay. There we saw that, in order for Maimonides’ argument not to be tautological, we must interpret it differently. According to our suggestion there, even in Maimonides’ view the Sages were indeed dealing only with the halakhic plane, not with principles of the enumeration of the commandments, just as Nahmanides proved from the discussion of the strands of tzitzit. Maimonides’ claim regarding parts of a mitzvah is that the halakhic plane also determines the enumeration of the commandments. In other words, the Sages dealt only with halakhic questions, but we infer from their words that if these are two mitzvot on the halakhic plane, they must be counted separately.

Why, according to him, is this not like the case of neshekh and tarbit? There we saw a disconnect between halakhic meaning and the considerations governing the enumeration of the commandments. It may be that the distinction arises from the fact that neshekh and tarbit form a double prohibition from the standpoint of practical content, although the underlying ideas are distinct; see our essay on Root Nine. In double commandments, which are the subject of the roots belonging to the third category, there is no necessary connection between the enumeration of the commandments and the number of prohibitions. But here we are dealing with a different category of roots, the category of classification and categorization, the fifth category in our scheme. With respect to classification and categorization we are dealing with the relation between the parts and the whole, and here the halakhic plane does determine the way the mitzvot are counted.

Perhaps the reason is this. In cases of duplication, if the ideas are different, then there are indeed two prohibitions. However, if on the practical plane the two mitzvot have the same content, that is what determines the count in the enumeration of the commandments, and therefore there they will be counted as one mitzvah. That is why, in cases of duplication, there is room to distinguish between the halakhic determination and the enumeration of the commandments. But with principles of classification and categorization, it is clear that the classification itself is fundamentally based on the halakhic conception of those parts, and therefore in this category the halakhic status of the mitzvot also determines the way they are counted.

A similar source appears in Root Seven, where Maimonides brings proof from the discussion in Babylonian Talmud, Bekhorot 13b that levirate marriage and halitzah are two mitzvot, and likewise that redemption and breaking the neck of the firstborn donkey are two mitzvot. See our essay there. There too, he apparently assumes that halakhic classification determines the way something appears in the enumeration of the commandments. Yet there too we can explain that the Talmudic discussion is halakhic, and the conclusion regarding the enumeration of the commandments is Maimonides’ own. That is, Maimonides too agrees that the Sages did not deal directly with the enumeration of the commandments. It is important to emphasize that Root Seven also belongs to the fifth category, the category of roots dealing with classification and categorization. This strengthens our claim above that in these roots Maimonides does indeed move from the halakhic plane to the plane of the enumeration of the commandments, unlike the roots dealing with duplication, such as neshekh and tarbit.

We have seen two sources in which Maimonides connects rabbinic formulations with the enumeration of the commandments. In the case of tefillin, he learns from the distinction that these are two mitzvot that they must be counted as two separate mitzvot, and similarly in the case of levirate marriage and the firstborn donkey. But what about tzitzit? There, of course, the situation is much simpler. The Sages say that the blue and the white are parts of one mitzvah, and Maimonides concludes from this that they must be counted as parts of one mitzvah. Why does he move here from the halakhic plane to the plane of the enumeration of the commandments?

We can understand this once we note the following. Even if the two planes, the halakhic and the enumerative, can be separated, this can only be in one direction. It is possible, as with interest, that there are two halakhic mitzvot which, for technical reasons, appear as one mitzvah in the enumeration of the commandments. But by all views it cannot happen that on the halakhic plane these are two parts of one mitzvah and yet in the enumeration of the commandments they are counted as two separate mitzvot. Therefore, in the case of tzitzit, Maimonides’ proof is conclusive, and Nahmanides too must agree with it. If the Sages treat the blue and the white as two parts of one mitzvah, then obviously in the enumeration of the commandments tzitzit too will appear only as one mitzvah.

In Root Twelve we will address more directly and broadly the relation between the enumeration of the commandments and the halakhic plane, that is, the question whether the enumeration reflects something essential or is defined by merely technical principles.

The Rashbatz’s Note

Rashbatz, in Zohar HaRakia, positive commandment 18, challenges Maimonides’ proof regarding tefillin from the fact that the Sages called them two mitzvot. In Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 37b, the lulav and its species are also called four mitzvot. Rabbi Daniel raised the same objection in the responsum mentioned above:

Rava said: The lulav is in the right hand and the etrog in the left. What is the reason? These three are mitzvot, and this one is one mitzvah.

If so, we find that the Four Species too are called four mitzvot by the Sages, and yet here Maimonides does not conclude from this that they should be counted separately.

Rabbi Abraham Maimonides, in his reply to Rabbi Daniel in Ma’aseh Nissim, section 5, explains as follows:

As for their saying regarding the lulav that these are four mitzvot, it is known that they are parts of one mitzvah. The difference between this and their saying regarding tefillin that they are two mitzvot is that the four species of the lulav are indispensable to one another. If, for example, one found three of them and could not find the fourth, then he has not fulfilled any mitzvah at all with what he found. Therefore the blessing can only be recited over all of them together. Tefillin are not like this… Reflect on their statement regarding tefillin: “Should one who does not have two mitzvot fail to perform one mitzvah?” They would not say such a thing regarding the lulav; there the law is the opposite…

Rabbi Abraham argues that the difference is that in tefillin one does not make the other indispensable, whereas in the lulav each species makes the others indispensable.

At first glance, Rabbi Abraham’s answer is highly puzzling. See Rabbi Yerucham Fischel Perlow on Saadia Gaon’s Sefer HaMitzvot, positive commandments 5-6. Rabbi Daniel’s objection was formulated as a mimah נפשך, a dilemma: if the proof is that the Gemara calls tefillin two mitzvot, then the species of the lulav are also called four mitzvot. And if the proof rests on the fact that arm-tefillin and head-tefillin are not indispensable to one another, whereas the lulav species are, that too is not a significant difference according to Maimonides itself, who wrote in this root that even parts that are not indispensable can still be one mitzvah. If so, Maimonides’ proof from the Gemara in Menachot is unclear, and Rabbi Abraham’s answer is even less clear.

It seems that Rabbi Abraham means to say that the proof depends on a combination of factors: both the fact that the Gemara calls the two tefillin “two mitzvot” and the fact that they are not indispensable to one another. When we find the language “two mitzvot” in the context of mitzvot that are not indispensable to one another, that is different from finding similar language in the context of mitzvot that are indispensable to one another. His reasoning seems to be that where the parts are indispensable to one another, it is already clear that this is one mitzvah. But where the two parts are not indispensable to one another, there are cases in which this is one mitzvah and cases in which they are two. Precisely in such a situation the Gemara’s wording becomes significant. Therefore, if the Sages called such parts one mitzvah, they are indeed one mitzvah, and vice versa.

To this we may add what Rabbi Abraham notes at the end of the passage just quoted: would anyone imagine that the Sages would say of the Four Species that if one cannot perform all of them he should at least perform one? Maimonides does not derive his proofs merely from the wording of the Sages when they call the parts several “mitzvot.” The proof lies in the content, not only in the terminology. When the Sages refer to the Four Species as four mitzvot, this is no proof regarding the enumeration of the commandments, or even regarding the halakhic plane. It may simply mean that there are several parts here set alongside one another, for the purpose of deciding how they are to be held, which is the subject of the discussion in Sukkah. The context in which the terminology appears is what matters. In tefillin, for example, the Sages did not merely refer to them as two mitzvot; they explicitly said that if one cannot fulfill both, there is no reason not to fulfill at least one. Rabbi Abraham asks: would the Sages say the same regarding the Four Species? If not, the proof lies not only in the terminology but also in the content of the rabbinic statement.

The same is true of tzitzit. There too the proof rests on the fact that the Sages demonstrate that what we have here is one mitzvah. In other words, this is not merely an expression that uses the term “one mitzvah,” but an argument whose whole purpose is to prove that this is one mitzvah. If this had no halakhic significance, and therefore no significance for the enumeration of the commandments either, why did the Sages have to present a midrash teaching that tzitzit is one mitzvah? The context therefore proves that here too the words of the Sages were said on the halakhic plane and not as a mere turn of phrase.

The same holds for the redemption and the neck-breaking of the firstborn donkey. Maimonides’ proof from the discussion in Bekhorot is that the Sages treat these two mitzvot as distinct, one preceding the other. There too, then, the proof is not merely from the terminology of “two mitzvot,” but from the halakhic content of the statement.

Nahmanides’ Specific Objections

In his glosses to this root, Nahmanides agrees with Maimonides’ basic principle, namely that one should not count parts of a mitzvah separately, but he disputes Maimonides on various details, and we will discuss them one by one.[^3]

1.

First, Nahmanides cites the discussion in Menachot 38a, where a tannaitic dispute appears regarding whether the blue thread makes the white indispensable:

Gemara: Shall we say that our Mishnah is not in accordance with Rabbi? For it was taught: “‘And you shall see it’ teaches that they are indispensable to one another”—these are Rabbi’s words. But the Sages say: they are not indispensable. What is Rabbi’s reason? Because it is written “the corner,” meaning the kind of the corner, and it is written “a thread of blue,” and the Merciful One says “and you shall see it,” meaning that both must be present together. And the Rabbis? “And you shall see it” means that each one stands on its own. Shall we say that this is not in accordance with Rabbi? Rav Yehudah said in the name of Rav: you may even say it is in accordance with Rabbi; it was needed only regarding precedence…

Thus, according to Rabbi, the blue and the white are indispensable to one another. The Mishnah’s ruling that they are not indispensable applies only with respect to the order of the wrappings and to an entirely blue garment. See the Talmudic discussion there.

Nahmanides now argues that the simple logic is that parts not indispensable to one another should be counted separately, and that this too emerges from Maimonides’ words. Therefore only where there is proof from the Sages do we deviate from that principle. But if so, says Nahmanides, the Mekhilta Maimonides brought gives no such proof, and we may therefore remain with the simpler conception. It is entirely possible, he argues, that the Mekhilta is speaking according to Rabbi, who holds that the blue and the white are indeed indispensable to one another, and therefore from the Mekhilta’s standpoint they are two parts of one mitzvah.[^4] Nahmanides also adduces proofs that the Mekhilta indeed speaks only according to Rabbi, though see the commentary Kinat Soferim here, which rejects them.

Nahmanides himself tends in his remarks to say that whenever the parts are not indispensable to one another they ought to be counted as separate mitzvot, and he even proves this from the Gemara:

This is what we learned in our Mishnah in Menachot 28a, and it was also taught in the Sifrei: “The four fringes are indispensable to one another, because all four are one mitzvah. Rabbi Ishmael says: all four are four mitzvot.” From here you learn that when they say “one mitzvah” they mean that they are indispensable to one another, and the one who says they are not indispensable makes them many mitzvot.

He argues that when the Sages say different parts are one mitzvah, they mean that they are indispensable to one another. That is, contrary to Maimonides, who separates the discussion of indispensability from the discussion of the enumeration of the commandments, here we see that the two do depend on one another. In practice, however, Nahmanides goes on to explain that in the end he does not disagree with Maimonides, since Halakhot Gedolot also agreed with him on this point and counted the two parts of tzitzit as one mitzvah.

2.

Nahmanides continues: if the two parts of tzitzit are counted as one mitzvah, then Maimonides should also have counted the two parts of tefillin as one mitzvah:

This is a view that the author of Halakhot Gedolot could indeed sustain, since he also counted tefillin as one mitzvah. But the Rabbi counted tefillin as two mitzvot, commandments 12 and 13. And these two matters were taught in one and the same Mishnah: “The blue is not indispensable to the white, and the white is not indispensable to the blue; the arm-tefillin is not indispensable to the head-tefillin, and the head-tefillin is not indispensable to the arm-tefillin.” And if we look at their content, tefillin would seem even more to be one matter, for everything written in one is written in the other, and their matter is one: “so that the Torah of the Lord may be in our mouth,” set against the heart and the brain, the dwellings of thought.

He explains that these are two examples appearing in the same Mishnah, in Menachot, and it is therefore implausible to treat them differently. Moreover, he adds that in tzitzit the reason to count the blue and the white as one mitzvah is that they have a common purpose, as Maimonides himself wrote in the root. But if so, there is no less reason to count both tefillin as one mitzvah, since everything written of one is written of the other, and the Torah itself indicates that here too their subject is one: “so that the Torah of the Lord may be in your mouth.”

Nahmanides then raises the possibility that the distinction between tzitzit and tefillin lies in the fact that tzitzit is worn in one act, whereas tefillin are placed in two different acts. This is the physical criterion we mentioned above:

Unless the Rabbi wishes to argue that this is one act, since one wears the blue and the white together, whereas tefillin are two acts. But if two acts that are not indispensable to one another are not considered two mitzvot, then how does he count the recitation of the Shema morning and evening as one mitzvah, commandment 10; and the burning of incense morning and evening as one, commandment 28; and the two daily burnt offerings as one, commandment 39?

Nahmanides rejects this, because there are several examples of pairs of mitzvot performed at different times and in different acts, yet nevertheless counted as one mitzvah: the Shema, the offering of incense, and the daily burnt offerings, all of which are performed in the morning and the evening, yet each is counted as one mitzvah.[^5]

We already answered this in our essay on Root Thirteen, where we explained, according to Maimonides, that this is a repetition of the same mitzvah after half a day has passed, not two parts of one comprehensive mitzvah performed once per day. See there carefully.[^6] In any case, it is clear that Maimonides does not mean the physical criterion as a measure that essentially determines the count of the commandments. He mentions only the criterion that asks whether their subject matter is one or not.

If so, the distinction between tzitzit and tefillin according to Maimonides still requires explanation. If in both cases there is a common idea, and in both cases the parts are not indispensable to one another, and especially if we remember that both examples are brought in the same Mishnah, why does Maimonides nevertheless distinguish between them? To understand this, we must return to the meaning of halakhic indispensability, and that will be the concern of the next chapter.

C. Discussion: Three Types of Relation Between the Parts of a Mitzvah and the Whole

Introduction

We saw above that in commandment 13 Maimonides brings proofs from rabbinic midrashim that tefillin are two mitzvot, but he does not explain the underlying reasoning, and we rejected the possibility that the reason is simply that they are two different acts. With tzitzit, by contrast, both Maimonides and Nahmanides base the matter on the fact that the two parts are directed toward remembrance. We also concluded that Maimonides’ criterion is the common subject matter, namely the goal or rationale of the mitzvah. Nahmanides’ question now arises: why is the common basis in tefillin not enough to count them as one mitzvah? The proof from the Sages, even if valid, does not answer the question of why this should be so.[^7]

We are looking for a distinction among three cases: parts of a mitzvah that are indispensable to one another; parts that are not indispensable but do have a common basis; and parts that are not indispensable and have no common basis. Throughout, we must remember that in all these cases we are dealing, in some sense at least, with parts of one mitzvah.

Put differently: why does a common idea not always gather the parts into one mitzvah? When does it do so, and when not?

What Is Halakhic “Indispensability”?

The starting point for the discussion is the meaning of indispensability. When we say that a certain part is indispensable, this can be understood in several ways. One can say that the mitzvah as a whole is not fulfilled without this part, while still maintaining that there is some value in doing that part by itself, at least in order to gain some of the spiritual benefit, or on the formal plane, some partial fulfillment. Alternatively, one can understand it to mean that failing to perform this part also prevents one from performing the other part, that is, that performing the latter has no value at all.[^8] Likewise, when we say that a part is not indispensable, this too can be understood in parallel ways: either it does not prevent the performance of the other part, or the performance of the mitzvah as a whole is not thereby obstructed.

It is useful here to introduce a further clarification. There is a common misconception regarding the concept of indispensability. When we place only white threads on the corner of the garment, based on the rule that the blue thread does not make the white indispensable, is there any problem with that? Have we thereby neglected any positive commandment? At first glance, if the blue does not make the white indispensable, then one can fulfill the mitzvah with white alone. But on the other hand, the Torah commands us to place a blue thread on the fringe of the corner. Can that simply be ignored? Is it merely voluntary?

The answer is that if we put on only white threads, we thereby neglected the positive commandment of the blue thread. The rule that the blue does not make the white indispensable does not mean that placing the blue thread in the tzitzit is voluntary, or that it is merely an optional fulfillment. Rather, it means that even if I did not place the blue, that is no reason not to place the white. The absence of the blue does not deprive the white of meaning, as we saw above: should one who cannot perform two mitzvot therefore not perform even one?

A similar mistake appears with regard to beautifying a mitzvah. As is well known, beautification does not make the mitzvah itself indispensable, except in the case of the Four Species. Does that mean beautification is voluntary, a merely optional mitzvah? Certainly not. There is a positive commandment, though apparently not one counted separately, of “This is my God, and I will beautify Him,” understood as beautifying oneself before Him through the mitzvot. The statement that beautification is not indispensable means that even without beautification there is still reason to perform the mitzvah itself; in other words, the lack of beautification does not empty the mitzvah of meaning. But we have certainly neglected the mitzvah of beautification thereby. See more on this in our essay to the weekly Torah portion Beshalach, 5767.

The Question of the Relation Between the Whole and Its Parts

The picture actually depends on the question of the relation between the parts of a mitzvah and the whole. What is the meaning of performing only part of a mitzvah? Is one thereby performing that part alone? Or is one performing the entire whole, but in an incomplete way? For example, with tzitzit we may ask whether white alone constitutes incomplete tzitzit, or whether white alone is not the mitzvah of tzitzit at all, but rather the mitzvah of white. There are situations in which the performance of the part has no independent significance whatsoever, because only the complete whole has halakhic meaning, and neither of the two parts has such meaning on its own.

This may be connected to the philosophical question of the relation between the parts and the whole. See Two Carts and a Hot-Air Balloon, note 15 and the surrounding discussion. The British philosopher John Searle gives, in his book Mind, Brain and Science, an example of a property found only in the whole and not in the collection of components: liquidity. No individual water molecule is liquid; yet the whole is liquid, that is, it possesses the property of liquidity. Thus liquidity is a property found in the whole and in none of its components. This indicates that the whole has an existence distinct from the sum of its components, since it possesses properties they do not. The combination of molecules therefore creates an entity with its own essence and existence.

The same can be said about parts of a mitzvah. Sometimes the mitzvah is simply the collection of its components, nothing but their combination, a direct sum. And sometimes the whole of the mitzvah has something that no part, taken separately, has. Moreover, the performance of one part by itself may be viewed either as an independent performance of that part and nothing more, or as a partial or deficient performance of the whole.

Three Types of Relation Between the Parts of a Mitzvah and the Whole

We may summarize the matter in terms of three possible relations between the parts of a mitzvah and its whole:

1. The fulfillment of each part has value, and that value is the value of the whole, though incomplete without the performance of all the parts. Only their combination yields the complete value of the whole.

2. Each part constitutes a fulfillment with its own independent value, and they do not combine into a complete whole.[^9]

3. No individual part has any value on its own, neither as an independent value nor as a deficient value of the complete whole. In this case, value is created only when all the parts are fulfilled together.

The third case is certainly one in which every part is indispensable to the mitzvah. The first case is one in which, by all views, no part makes the mitzvah indispensable. The second case is more complex: one may say that no part makes the other indispensable, and yet when only one part is performed, the mitzvah as a whole has not been fulfilled. In that sense one may say that the parts do make the existence of the whole indispensable. In such a case we will say that the parts are indispensable if we wish to speak about the whole, in contrast to the first case; and we may say that they are not indispensable if we wish to speak about the fulfillment of the parts themselves, in contrast to the third case.

Returning to Maimonides’ Position

We saw above that Maimonides’ position is that parts not indispensable to one another may sometimes be counted as one mitzvah, as in tzitzit, and sometimes as two, as in tefillin. This depends on the essential interpretation of those mitzvot. We can now understand that the interpretive difference between these two kinds of mitzvot depends on whether they are parts of type 2 or type 1. We have seen that both can be described in terms of parts that are “not indispensable.” Two parts of a type 1 mitzvah will be counted as one mitzvah, whereas two parts of a type 2 mitzvah will be counted as two separate mitzvot.

If this is correct, then according to Maimonides this is precisely the difference between tzitzit and tefillin. In tzitzit, the white and the blue combine into one whole. Therefore, when the mitzvah is fulfilled with white alone, what we have is a partial fulfillment of the mitzvah of tzitzit as a whole. There is indeed independent value in the white without the blue, but this is the value of the whole, namely tzitzit. The same is true of the blue alone. Thus tzitzit is a type 1 mitzvah.[^10] Perhaps this is what the Torah itself indicates when it says:

Speak to the children of Israel and tell them that they shall make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout their generations, and that they shall place upon the fringe of each corner a thread of blue.

The Torah calls the thing “fringe,” tzitzit, even before it commands us to place in it a blue thread. This seems to indicate that the white alone is also called tzitzit, rather than “white.” This hints that one who places only white thread thereby fulfills the mitzvah of tzitzit, though in a deficient manner, and not some separate mitzvah of white.

With tefillin, by contrast, it appears that when one fulfills the arm-tefillin without the head-tefillin, the meaning is that one has fulfilled the mitzvah of arm-tefillin, not the mitzvah of tefillin in general. Thus according to Maimonides tefillin are of type 2. Halakhot Gedolot would presumably disagree and hold that they too belong to type 1. Let us note that the term “tefillin” itself does not appear in the Torah; it is a rabbinic term. There is therefore no common name in Scripture that binds the arm-tefillin and the head-tefillin into a single whole. This strengthens the claim that we are dealing here with two different mitzvot.

If we apply this analysis to the mitzvah of the Four Species, then since we know that they are indispensable to one another, it is clear that they are a type 3 mitzvah, meaning that none of the parts has any value at all separately. In such a situation, even if someone has a lulav but lacks the other species, there is no point in taking it separately. This is what Rabbi Abraham meant in his challenge to Rabbi Daniel:

Reflect on their statement regarding tefillin: “Should one who does not have two mitzvot fail to perform one mitzvah?” They would not say such a thing regarding the lulav; there the law is the opposite.

With the Four Species, no one would ever think to say that if he lacks one of them, he should at least take the others. This shows that none of the parts has any value without the whole, and therefore this is one mitzvah. By contrast, in tzitzit and tefillin there is certainly value in fulfilling an individual part. The difference is that in tzitzit the fulfillment of the part is a partial fulfillment of the whole, whereas in tefillin the fulfillment of the part is not a fulfillment of the whole but only of the part itself.

This is in fact what lies behind the explanation we proposed above for Rabbi Abraham’s words, namely that he combines the two criteria: indispensability and rabbinic terminology. In mitzvot whose parts are not indispensable, if there is rabbinic language that points to their being conceived as separate mitzvot, then we count them separately. But in mitzvot whose parts are indispensable, such terminology neither adds nor subtracts.

Maimonides’ proof in positive commandment 13 that the two parts of tefillin are two mitzvot came from the fact that the Gemara expresses astonishment at the idea that in the absence of one, one should not fulfill the other. If this were a type 1 mitzvah, the Gemara’s astonishment would be unclear. Is it so absurd to say that if one lacks one part, there is no point in fulfilling the other, if both create one whole? Maimonides therefore proves from the Gemara’s astonishment that tefillin are a type 2 mitzvah, and that is why the claim looks absurd on its face. When there is no such relation between the two parts, one simply cannot say that if he lacks one he should not fulfill the other.

This also helps us understand what the Mekhilta concludes regarding tzitzit. The Mekhilta learns from the verse “And it shall be for you as fringes” that the blue and the white are one mitzvah. Here too it seems reasonable to explain that it was already known, even before the derivation, that the blue and the white are not indispensable to one another. Therefore, when this verse says that the two parts together create a single whole called “tzitzit,” it means that these two parts, though not indispensable to one another, nevertheless combine into one whole. The conclusion is therefore unavoidable: they constitute a type 1 mitzvah rather than a type 2 mitzvah. It follows that they must be counted as one comprehensive mitzvah even though they are not indispensable. That is Maimonides’ proof from the Mekhilta.

With regard to the two daily burnt offerings, the incense, and the recitation of the Shema, which are three pairs performed at two times of day, we saw that according to Maimonides this is a reason to count them as one mitzvah performed at two times, as Kinat Soferim explains and as we proposed in Root Thirteen. Nahmanides, however, takes this very fact as a reason to count them as two mitzvot.

Perhaps the explanation of this dispute is that according to Maimonides and Halakhot Gedolot these mitzvot are of type 1. Since the act performed is identical, it follows that no different benefits are achieved by the two performances; hence this cannot be a case of two parts joining into some comprehensive whole. It must therefore be one mitzvah performed at two different times. Nahmanides, by contrast, takes these to be type 2 mitzvot, because the Torah commanded them to be performed twice daily, and likewise to be repeated every day. The daily repetition is simply extension along the axis of time, but the command to perform them twice a day means that a whole is thereby created. To be sure, the parts are not indispensable to one another, but together they form one whole. If I performed one without the other, then according to Maimonides I achieved the benefit, though not fully, of the mitzvah of the daily offering, not merely the mitzvah of the morning offering. According to Nahmanides, I achieved the benefit of the mitzvah of the morning offering, but in his view there is no comprehensive mitzvah of “daily offering” at all.

Summary

Our conclusion is that the division outlined above into three kinds of relation between parts of mitzvot is accepted by both Maimonides and Nahmanides. Their disagreements concern only the character of specific mitzvot, or the meaning of dependence on time and repeated performance. According to Halakhot Gedolot, it is possible that there is no type 2 relation at all. Any two parts that are not indispensable are counted as one mitzvah, for otherwise they would not be two parts of one mitzvah in the first place. This requires further thought. According to Nahmanides, perhaps there is fundamentally no type 1, except for tzitzit, and even there he seems hesitant.

D. Implications: The Conception of the Mitzvot of Tefillin and Tzitzit

Introduction

We saw above that although the parts of the mitzvot of tefillin and tzitzit are not indispensable to one another, and although both laws appear in the same Mishnah in Menachot, Maimonides conceives of them in two different ways. Tzitzit is a type 1 mitzvah, meaning that the fulfillment of each part is a deficient fulfillment of the whole, whereas in tefillin the fulfillment of each part is the fulfillment of the part and not of the whole. From this also follows the different way in which these two mitzvot appear in the enumeration of the commandments. In this chapter we will broaden the discussion somewhat, try to understand the meaning of this distinction, and note several halakhic consequences.

Is There a Connection Between the Two Parts of the Mitzvah of Tefillin?

At first glance, parts of a type 2 mitzvah, such as the arm-tefillin and the head-tefillin, look like two completely separate mitzvot. The appearance that we have before us two parts of one mitzvah seems illusory.

Why, then, does the question even arise whether to count them as one mitzvah? Is this merely a mistake? Is this case as absurd as the connection one might propose between redeeming the firstborn donkey and the grace after meals? On the the face of הthings, the case of tefillin is different. There is, after all, some kind of connection between the two tefillin, and despite their classification as type 2, there is something here beyond what is found in a purely accidental combination such as redeeming the firstborn donkey and the grace after meals.

Rabbi Daniel asks how Maimonides can say that the blue and the white count as one mitzvah because the Torah gives them one purpose, “so that you may remember all My commandments,” whereas tefillin do not count as one mitzvah although the Torah says of them as well: “so that the Torah of the Lord may be in your mouth.”

Rabbi Abraham, in reply, writes:

If it seems to you that because he said the blue and the white are one mitzvah since they have one purpose, it follows that the two mitzvot of tefillin should also be counted as one mitzvah because they too have one purpose, that is an error. For if so, then every mitzvah that has one purpose would have to be counted as one mitzvah. In that case the 613 mitzvot would collapse into only a few mitzvot, for the purpose of all forbidden foods is “you shall sanctify yourselves and be holy.” And so too with all the 613: they would be one mitzvah or two mitzvot, since the purpose of them all is love and fear, as Scripture says, “if you do not observe to perform… to fear the Lord,” and also, “if you carefully observe… to love the Lord.”

This is nothing at all. These are indeed two mitzvot of tefillin, distinct from one another, even though they have one purpose; whereas the white and the blue are joined because they have one purpose. Do you not see that they said explicitly regarding tefillin that they are two mitzvot, and regarding the white and the blue that both are one mitzvah?

Rabbi Abraham establishes that although the purpose of these mitzvot is one, a common purpose is not in itself the correct criterion for the enumeration of the commandments. Already here we can see that in his view tefillin are two mitzvot of one kind, not two wholly unrelated mitzvot such as the grace after meals and redeeming the firstborn donkey. This shows that even the parts of a type 2 mitzvah, each of which has its own independent value and apparently does not combine with the other into one whole, are nevertheless in some sense parts of one mitzvah.

How are we to understand the distinction between tzitzit and tefillin? If a common rationale is not a sufficient explanation, why do we decide that in tzitzit they are one mitzvah, but in tefillin not? It may be understood as follows. In tzitzit, the goal is to remember the mitzvot. That remembering is achieved most fully through the contrast between the blue and the white, because that contrast sharpens the association, as the Sages said: “The blue resembles the sea, and the sea resembles the sky, and the sky resembles the throne of glory,” Babylonian Talmud, Menachot 43b. In other words, the act of remembering itself cannot be optimally achieved without the combination of both components together, and therefore these are parts of one mitzvah. In tefillin, by contrast, the goal is indeed common, but each part achieves its portion of the goal without the aid of the other part. As Nahmanides explains, the arm-tefillin corresponds to the heart, in order to realize “do not stray after your heart,” and the head-tefillin corresponds to the mind, in order to realize “and after your eyes.” In the end, the goal is that we not stray after anything external, but each part operates separately and does not require the other in order to do its work. Therefore, in this case we define tefillin on the halakhic plane as two different mitzvot, because the halakhic plane is determined by the mode of action in relation to the goal, not by the mere combination of goals themselves. The goals belong to the plane of the verse’s rationale, and therefore combination on that plane does not determine the enumeration of the commandments.[^11] Rabbi Abraham explains this well when he says that if we followed rationales alone, then all positive commandments would have to be counted under the one mitzvah of love of God, and all prohibitions under the mitzvah of fear of God. Clearly, then, it is not the rationales as such that join mitzvot together, but the mode of their operation.

In light of this explanation, it becomes very clear why there is a connection between the two tefillin even though they are defined as separate parts. As we saw, both are intended to achieve one general goal: that we not stray after external things. In that sense they are certainly parts of one whole, though this does not express itself on the plane of the enumeration of the commandments. By contrast, redeeming the firstborn donkey and the grace after meals are obviously not parts of a single whole in any sense whatsoever. They are two completely different mitzvot, and therefore no one would even entertain the possibility of including them as one mitzvah.

A Halakhic Consequence: A Certain Kind of Indispensability in Tefillin After All

We can see a consequence of this determination in the Menachot discussion just mentioned. The Tur, Orach Chayim 26, brings the law of the Mishnah in Menachot:

If one has only one of them, whether the head-tefillin or the arm-tefillin, he puts it on and recites the blessing over it, for each one is a mitzvah before itself. He recites one blessing when he has only the arm-tefillin, and two blessings when he has only the head-tefillin. And even if he has both, but for some unavoidable reason he cannot put on both, for example he must leave on a journey and cannot delay, he may put on one of them, because they are not indispensable to one another.

The Beit Yosef there likewise brings the ruling that the head-tefillin and arm-tefillin are not indispensable to one another. He also cites the glosses to Sefer Mitzvot Katan, by Rabbi Perez, that the absence of indispensability applies only when one does not possess both kinds of tefillin, but if one has both, then failure to put on one does make the other indispensable. The Beit Yosef argues that this cannot be understood literally, for if one fulfills a mitzvah by putting on one, since each is a separate mitzvah, then this partial mitzvah is fulfilled even when one possesses both. For this reason he offers a strained interpretation of Rabbi Perez’s remarks.

Yet we find an explicit view of this kind in Or Zarua, section 578, citing his teacher Rabbi Simhah, and he himself disagrees with it. Their dispute concerns the conclusion of the Talmudic discussion in Menachot. Most commentators understand, as Or Zarua does, that in the final conclusion in both cases one does not make the other indispensable. Rabbi Simhah, and apparently Rabbi Perez with him, understand that they are not indispensable to one another only when one does not possess one of the two kinds of tefillin. But when he possesses both, one does make the other indispensable.

The Beit Yosef himself also infers this from the wording of the Tur just cited, who wrote that the tefillin are not indispensable to one another “even” when he possesses both. This suggests that in the Tur’s eyes it is even simpler that they are not indispensable when he does not possess both. He challenges the Tur from the Menachot discussion, whose conclusion implies that if there is any hierarchy between the two cases, when he has both and when he does not, it is the reverse of the Tur’s formulation. In any event, it seems that the Tur understood, at least in the initial assumption that he later rejects, like Rabbi Simhah and Rabbi Perez: when one has both parts, it is more intuitive to say that there is indispensability. Rabbi Perez and Rabbi Simhah even rule that way in practice.[^12]

The conclusion from all this is that the arm-tefillin and the head-tefillin, although by most opinions they are counted as two mitzvot in the enumeration of the commandments, may nevertheless in certain situations be indispensable to one another. According to most commentators, this is only an initial assumption that is later rejected, and it can be linked to the initial assumption that this is really only one mitzvah. But according to Rabbi Perez and Rabbi Simhah, such a distinction remains even in the final law. We thus see, as also emerged from Rabbi Abraham Maimonides’ words, that although the two kinds of tefillin form a type 2 mitzvah, they are nevertheless regarded as parts of one mitzvah. Common sense supports this as well: both are parts of the mitzvah of tefillin. The foundation of the matter is presumably the distinction we suggested above, in Rabbi Abraham’s words, between unity on the halakhic plane and unity in rationale.

As a matter of law, it is clear from the decisors that there is no such distinction, and tefillin are not indispensable to one another in any situation. In other words, they really are separate parts and therefore are counted as two mitzvot. But in type 1 mitzvot there is room to wonder whether such a distinction might not remain valid even in practice. Maimonides’ own formulation in his halakhic code seems to point in that direction.

The mitzvot of tzitzit and tefillin appear in the same Mishnah at the beginning of the chapter Ha-Techelet as two examples of mitzvot whose parts are not indispensable to one another. In light of this, the difference in Maimonides’ own wording about these two mitzvot becomes especially striking. In Laws of Tefillin 4:4 Maimonides writes:

The head-tefillin does not make the arm-tefillin indispensable, and the arm-tefillin does not make the head-tefillin indispensable, because they are two mitzvot, this one for itself and that one for itself…

His wording makes it clear that these are two mitzvot, and he emphasizes “this one for itself and that one for itself,” meaning two separate mitzvot in every situation, whether he has both kinds or not.

By contrast, in Laws of Tzitzit 1:4 Maimonides writes:

The blue thread does not make the white indispensable, and the white does not make the blue indispensable. How so? If one has no blue thread, he makes white alone. Likewise, if he made white and blue, and the white was cut and diminished up to the edge, while the blue alone remained, it is valid.

Here Maimonides does not suffice with a general rule of non-indispensability between the two parts, but goes on to explain “how so.” The explanation concerns the case where one has no blue thread and therefore makes white alone. On the face of it, this ruling applies only when he lacks blue. If he does have blue and nevertheless makes only white, it would seem to invalidate the mitzvah.[^13]

It thus follows that although Maimonides does not accept Rabbi Simhah’s distinction with regard to tefillin, which is a type 2 mitzvah, it may still be that even in his view there is a distinction, regarding mitzvot whose relation between parts is type 1, between a case where one has the second part and a case where he does not.

The explanation is exactly what we saw above. Type 2 mitzvot are completely separate, at least from the halakhic standpoint, and therefore there is clearly no room for such a distinction. If one does not have two mitzvot, why should he not perform the one mitzvah that is available to him? Recall that this very astonishment was the basis for Maimonides’ proof, in positive commandment 13, that tefillin is a type 2 mitzvah rather than type 1. But for that very same reason, with a type 1 mitzvah there is indeed room to say that if one does not have both parts, he should perhaps not perform even one. A mitzvah such as tzitzit has two parts that form one whole, and therefore one might claim that it is better not to perform it at all than to perform it defectively, when one is able to perform it in its complete form. This is not so where we are dealing with two separate parts, for there no such consideration exists at all.

The Blessings on Tefillin

One can also see traces of these conceptions in the discussion of the blessing recited over the mitzvah of tefillin. Today we recite “to put on tefillin” over the arm-tefillin, and “concerning the mitzvah of tefillin” over the head-tefillin. At first glance, two separate blessings seem to indicate that we are dealing with two different mitzvot. But from the wording of the blessings themselves one can already sense that this is not a split into two blessings over two different mitzvot, but two blessings over two aspects of one mitzvah.

We will not dwell here on the various views in the complex discussion of the blessings over tefillin, and will suffice with a brief presentation of the practical ruling. The Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 25:5, writes:

When putting them on, one should intend that the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded us to place these four sections, which contain the unity of His Name and the Exodus from Egypt, on the arm opposite the heart and on the head opposite the brain, so that we remember the miracles and wonders He did for us, which testify to His unity and to the fact that power and dominion in the upper and lower realms belong to Him, to do with them as He wills. One should subject to the Holy One, blessed be He, the soul that is in the brain, and also the heart, which is the source of desires and thoughts. In this way he will remember the Creator and diminish his pleasures. He places the arm-tefillin first and recites the blessing “to put on tefillin,” and afterwards places the head-tefillin, reciting only one blessing over both. Gloss: And there are those who say that over the head-tefillin one should recite “concerning the mitzvah of tefillin,” even if he did not interrupt in between. Such is the custom among Ashkenazic Jews, who recite two blessings. It is good always to say after the second blessing, “Blessed be the name of His glorious kingdom forever and ever.”

Already the opening formulation points to the two parts of tefillin as one whole on the plane of purpose, as we saw above. Afterwards there appears a dispute between the author of the Shulchan Arukh and the Rema regarding the blessings. According to the former, one recites only one blessing over both tefillin. The Rema notes that the custom is to recite two blessings. See also Be’er Heitev there.

Yet even according to the Rema, these are not two blessings over two mitzvot, because echoes of this same dispute appear in the next section as well, Orach Chayim 26:1-2:

1. If one has only one tefillah, he puts on the one he has and recites the blessing over it, for each one is a mitzvah before itself. The same applies if he has both, but for some unavoidable reason can put on only one; he puts on whichever he can.

2. If he puts on only the head-tefillin, he recites over it only the blessing “concerning the mitzvah of tefillin.” Gloss: According to our custom, since we recite two blessings every day, if he puts on only the head-tefillin, he recites over it both blessings; and if he puts on only the arm-tefillin, he recites only “to put on.”

In the Shulchan Arukh, this seems consistent with his own view that there is one blessing over both tefillin, and therefore that blessing is recited even over one of them. But the Rema writes that if he puts on only the head-tefillin, he must recite both blessings over it. See there in the Mishnah Berurah regarding the arm-tefillin. This clearly proves that even according to the Rema we are not dealing with two blessings over two mitzvot, but with two blessings over two aspects of one mitzvah.

And in Mishnah Berurah, Orach Chayim 25:32, it is explained:

According to our custom… the reason we recite two blessings over tefillin, and do not suffice with the blessing “to put on,” is that we hold that the original institution of these blessings was as follows: at the beginning of putting them on one recites “to put on,” and this blessing also refers to the head-tefillin; and when he places and tightens the head-tefillin, he also recites “concerning the mitzvah,” because this is the completion of the mitzvah. Therefore, if he interrupted and diverted his attention, he must again recite also “to put on” over the head-tefillin.

That is, the original institution of these blessings was such that the first is recited at the beginning of the mitzvah and the second at its completion. Again, the two tefillin are being treated here as one continuous mitzvah.

Summary

The conclusion from both implications we have cited is that the treatment of the two tefillin as two mitzvot applies to the enumeration of the commandments, but it is clear that we are not dealing with two entirely separate mitzvot, as we explained above. By contrast, with tzitzit no two separate blessings were instituted at all. And as we saw in tefillin, the two blessings were instituted precisely in order to join the placing of the two tefillin into one continuous mitzvah. This expresses exactly the tension between their being joined in idea and their being defined as two separate mitzvot. The ambiguity in the laws of the blessings reflects the presence of both poles.

E. Essentialism and Conventionalism Regarding Concepts[^14]

Introduction

In this chapter we will try to clarify the logical assumptions underlying the distinction between the two kinds of mitzvot whose parts are not indispensable to one another.

The Fundamental Difficulties in the Distinctions Presented Above

In the previous chapters we saw that there are two kinds of mitzvot whose parts are counted as one mitzvah. One kind consists of mitzvot in which the fulfillment of each part has the value of a deficient fulfillment of the whole, as in tzitzit. The second kind consists of mitzvot in which the separate parts have no meaning at all on their own, and only the whole gives the mitzvah its meaning, as with the Four Species. In that case, when part of the mitzvah is missing, there is no point in performing what remains. In such a case there is no such thing as a defective whole; if one part is missing, there is no fulfillment of the whole at all. In the previous case, by contrast, even a defective whole can exist, and it too has value. We also saw a further type, where the parts combine into one whole on the conceptual plane, but on the plane of the enumeration of the commandments they are nevertheless two separate mitzvot, as in tefillin.

A closer look at these distinctions raises several basic questions:

1. Why do such differences exist at all, and what do they mean? In other words, why are there different ways of defining the relation between the parts of a mitzvah and the whole?

2. Why does one and the same whole appear differently in different situations? In other words, if white alone really counts as fulfillment of the mitzvah of tzitzit, though deficiently, why should that change if one also has blue? Rabbi Yerucham Fischel Perlow, in his commentary on positive commandments 5-6, raises this difficulty with respect to Rabbi Simhah’s position concerning type 2 mitzvot, but of course it also touches Maimonides’ own view, which applies the distinction only to type 1 mitzvot. If partial fulfillment counts as fulfillment, why should that change when one is able to fulfill both?[^15]

3. Beyond all this, we must examine Maimonides’ initial intuition, with which Nahmanides agrees, that parts not indispensable to one another ought a priori to be counted as separate mitzvot, unless there is proof that this is not the case. Why is that so? In other words, why is it easier for us to accept the existence of type 2 mitzvot, two mitzvot that are not indispensable to one another, than type 1 mitzvot, two parts of one mitzvah that are not indispensable to one another? And then we must ask why this initial intuition is ultimately rejected.

We will now try to clarify the metaphysical-logical foundations common to all these questions, through the distinction between substance and accident.

Substance and Accident with Respect to Concepts

The pair of terms “substance” and “accident” has two meanings, both related to one another, and both relevant to our topic. First, “substance” can mean the thing itself, the entity, while “accident” is what happens to it or is attached to it, its properties or characteristics. Second, the distinction can be made among the various properties or characteristics of the substance. Some properties belong to it essentially, that is, they are part of its essence. Others are attached to it only contingently, and then they are “accidental” with respect to it.

When we speak of “substance” and “accident” regarding concepts rather than concrete objects, there is a tendency to think that only the second meaning is relevant. For example, when we consider the concept “Jew,” as an idea and not as a concrete Jewish person, we try to describe it. If we say that a Jew is someone born to a Jewish mother or converted according to halakha, this seems to be an essential property. By contrast, the property that a Jew speaks Hebrew is accidental, not necessary.

But what of the idea “Jew” itself? Does it have substance in the ontological sense? Is there really such a thing as the idea of Jew, or Judaism? Many tend to think not. With respect to concepts, or ideas, they think the distinction between properties and substance has no meaning, because for them Judaism is a term with properties generated by social-linguistic agreement, but it has no existence in reality in any sense.

According to this assumption, concepts are fictional entities created through human agreement.[^16] This is the conventionalist approach to concepts. On this view, a concept is nothing but a cluster of characteristics to which the speakers of a community have attached, by common agreement, a shared linguistic term describing the whole. This is done mainly for the sake of linguistic convenience. For example, instead of repeatedly saying of England that it is a country with elected government, civil rights, separation of powers, and so forth, and then defining France likewise as a country with elected government, civil rights, and separation of powers, and similarly Switzerland, Israel, the United States, and so on, we shorten matters by defining that collection of traits under the agreed term “democratic state,” and can thereafter use that term in all these cases.

Let us stay a bit longer with the example of a “democratic state.” According to conventionalism, this concept has no real entity behind it; it is created by human agreement. There are, of course, democratic states in the world, but their democracy is not itself a real entity. It is a property they possess, but not an entity in its own right. Of course, this concept has characteristics, and these divide into essential and accidental ones. For example, the characteristic that the name of the state begins with a certain letter is accidental, and the length of the elected government’s term of office is also not essential. By contrast, the basic features of the governing system seem essential to it. A state whose name begins with another letter will still be democratic, but if it has neither elections nor civil rights, we will not be inclined to regard it as a democratic state.[^17]

On Definition: Two Consequences of Conventionalism

A definition of a concept includes only its essential properties, not its accidental ones. These are the necessary conditions for constituting the concept. There is no reason to include accidental components in the definition, since even in their absence it is still the same concept.

In the conventionalist picture, it would seem that one cannot change the definition of a concept. If we change an accidental property, it was never part of the definition in the first place, so the definition has not changed. And if we change an essential property, then we have a different definition and therefore a different concept, assuming that all that exists in the concept is exhausted by its definition and there is nothing beyond it.

Another consequence of the conventionalist picture concerns disputes over the meanings of concepts. If such a dispute exists, then each side endorses a different definition of the concept. But a different definition concerns a different concept. A dispute over the definition of a concept therefore becomes, on the conventionalist picture, merely semantic. It is nothing but a product of misunderstanding.

For example, there is in Israel an ongoing dispute over the definition of the concept “Jew.” Some advocate the halakhic definition: one born to a Jewish mother or converted according to halakha. Others advocate a different definition: one who feels himself to be Jewish and senses a shared fate with the Jewish people. Definitions based on one’s relation to the state are less popular today than they once were.[^18] A conventionalist approach to this dispute would view it as a misunderstanding. One could simply call the subject of the first definition “Jew,” and the subject of the second definition “Israeli,” or any other arbitrary name, and thereby solve the problem. The ongoing dispute would then be nothing but a product of misunderstanding. In truth, the two sides would be dealing with different concepts rather than arguing over one concept.

Essentialism

Our more immediate intuition says that one can indeed argue over the definitions of concepts, and sometimes even change them. When we argue over the definition of the concept “Jew,” it cannot really be resolved by semantic means alone, as suggested above. There is a real dispute here, and it concerns the very same concept; otherwise it would not be real. The same applies to changing the definition of a concept. For example, “mathematics” once consisted mainly of computational questions and problems of measuring areas, and the like. Today it has expanded into many abstract and varied domains. Does that mean we are dealing with a different field, or rather that the definition has changed while it remains the same field, only transformed?

These intuitions lead us to conclude that there is something in a concept beyond the collection of its characteristics. As we saw, if a concept were merely a convention, it would be identical with its cluster of characteristics, and then the two problems mentioned above would arise. But if we assume that behind those characteristics stands an idea, a kind of existent, which serves as the “subject” that bears those characteristics, then we can indeed speak of changing a definition, and of disputing definitions. When there is a dispute over the definition of who is a Jew, this means that both sides are apprehending the same idea, but their contemplation yields different descriptions of it, and therefore a dispute arises. The same holds for a change of definition. When mathematics expands, this does not mean we are dealing with a different field, since the field called “mathematics” is not merely a social-linguistic convention. We are dealing with the same field itself, though its characteristics have changed, just as a person’s characteristics may change. What is this “field” itself? It is the idea “mathematics,” whose characteristics are the subject of our discussion.

The alternative picture proposed here is conceptual essentialism. In the essentialist picture, behind social-linguistic conventions stand ideas. A concept is not created by agreement alone, but by observation of an idea that yields characteristics each of us apprehends. When we do not apprehend the same thing, or when the characteristics change, dispute arises. In this picture the cluster of characteristics does not constitute the concept but merely describes it, exactly as is true of material objects. No one identifies a table with its being square and having four legs. These are its properties, but not its substance.

Essentialism leads us to the conclusion that even the absence of a property, including an essential one, can still describe the same concept itself under different circumstances. The identity of the new concept with its previous form can remain intact despite the change in characteristics, because the characteristics are not what constitutes the concept, but something merely attached to it, perhaps not always. If the new characteristics describe the same idea, we treat this as a change in the definition of the concept, while its substance is preserved. That means that the distinction between substance and accident with respect to concepts receives the same meaning it has with respect to objects. With concepts too, the distinction can be understood in both senses presented above.

This brings us to the Platonic conclusion that ideas are instantiated in concrete objects in our world in deficient ways. “Horse-ness” is the idea of a perfect horse, but it exists only in the world of ideas. Its actual realization in a concrete horse in our world is always accompanied by defects and imperfections. The idea usually appears in the world in a deficient way. The same is true of concepts. There is a concept in its purity, but its realization in the world, such as goodness or democracy, is usually partial and incomplete. Yet it is still an appearance of that very perfect idea. These defects and imperfections are what cause misunderstandings and disputes, because we do not observe the ideas directly but see them through their manifestations in our world. Below we shall see implications of this picture.

An Example: A Brief Discussion of Moral Relativism

Take, for example, the dispute over whether morality is relative. “Morality” obligates different, and sometimes even opposite, actions in different societies, and perhaps even within the same society at different times. Some will say that morality requires aborting a diseased fetus, while others will vehemently oppose that and say it is murder. Likewise regarding homosexual relations, sending the elderly out to die in the snow, as among the Eskimos, and so forth.

Are we dealing here with a dispute over the meaning and characteristics of the concept “morality,” or are we really dealing with two different concepts? If the concept “morality” were only a collection of characteristics and nothing more, there would be no room for real dispute. It would be obvious that the two apparently disputing sides are dealing with different concepts, and the confusion would arise only because they happen to use the same linguistic term to describe them. But if we adopt the essentialist intuition that this dispute is real, then we must assume that the concept “morality” has a substance, and the dispute concerns its characteristics. From one point of view it looks one way, and from another angle, whether spatial or temporal, it is grasped differently. Yet both sides are arguing over the same concept itself. Therefore this is a real dispute, not something that can be solved through semantic differentiation by inventing an additional term for the Eskimos’ view.

Ironically, the very existence of disputes over the content of moral demands, which is often brought as support for relativism, actually testifies that there is something objective in the moral idea. If there were no shared idea over which we are arguing, there would be no disputes here at all, only people talking past one another.

Returning to the Distinctions Above: Essentialism and Conventionalism in Halakha

Above we noted that both for Maimonides and for Nahmanides the initial tendency is to think that when we encounter two characteristics of a mitzvah that are not indispensable to one another, we are dealing with two different mitzvot. We can now understand that the reason is that we tend to think every part of a mitzvah is essential, and there is no case in which a part of the mitzvah is not indispensable unless it is not really part of that mitzvah but a separate mitzvah. If it is not indispensable, it is apparently not part of that mitzvah at all.

The logical basis for this is probably the feeling that a mitzvah is not some real existent but a theoretical concept. Such a concept is not a real entity, but a definition built from a collection of characteristics, though in this case those characteristics were not fixed by social convention, as linguistic concepts are, but by the Torah or by God. Such a definition includes only essential properties. If we subtract any part from the collection of characteristics of a mitzvah, then the mitzvah in question no longer exists at all. We have, in effect, arrived at a different mitzvah. Put differently: if a mitzvah is nothing but a collection of characteristics, then the absence of any one of them removes from the remaining whole its identity and turns it into something else.

For example, tzitzit is composed of blue and white. On the conventionalist view, there are indeed concrete objects called “tzitzit,” but the concept, or idea, “tzitzit” itself has no reality. It is nothing but a whole constituted by a particular combination of properties: the tying of blue and white threads in the way the Torah defined in the section on tzitzit. If we place only blue or only white on the corner of the garment, then this is not tzitzit in its halakhic sense, because the full definition is not met. Once characteristics are missing, it is no longer the same concept.

By contrast, if we adopt an essentialist conception, then the concept “tzitzit” denotes some kind of entity, a Platonic idea. We may then wonder whether white alone also counts as a deficient appearance of that same concept, or whether the appearance is so different that it is clearly not the same concept. In any case, within an essentialist framework one need not infer from the absence of some property that we are dealing with a different concept.

Thus, at least with respect to tzitzit, we see that the conventionalist picture is incorrect. As we saw above, the verse itself defines even the white, before the command to place a blue thread, as tzitzit. Afterward, however, the Torah instructs us to place in the tzitzit also a blue thread, and concludes that this whole combination “shall be for you as tzitzit.” It seems that the meaning is that the white alone is also tzitzit, but the full manifestation of the halakhic concept “tzitzit” is white and blue together.

Thus, in the verses concerning tzitzit, the Torah itself teaches us the logical structure with which we are concerned. As we saw, at least with respect to tzitzit all the early authorities agree that this is one mitzvah, and this accords perfectly with the Torah’s own language.

According to the essentialist approach, as stated, the halakhic idea may appear in a deficient form. Hence there can be situations in which part of the mitzvah is missing and yet the existence of the remaining parts still counts as a deficient fulfillment of the comprehensive mitzvah. This is a deficient or maimed appearance of the halakhic idea. Ideal tzitzit appears with blue and white. That is also the idea of tzitzit as it exists in the world of halakhic ideas. But when the blue is lacking, tzitzit may appear in our world with white alone, and this still counts as tzitzit, and even as fulfillment of the mitzvah of tzitzit. As we explained, this is a deficient appearance of the comprehensive mitzvah, not a partial mitzvah. The matter is analogous to a deficient appearance of an idea in material objects. Plato already pointed out that the idea of horse-ness may appear defectively in a concrete horse, which is not always perfect. The actual realization of the idea is not an exact copy, and the same is true of concepts.

The distinction made by Rabbi Simhah and Rabbi Perez between situations in which we have only the head-tefillin or only the arm-tefillin, and situations in which we possess both and nevertheless put on only one, is likewise based on the idea that when the mitzvah can appear in its full form, we may not fulfill it in a deficient way. But when we possess only one tefillin, then even placing it on constitutes a deficient fulfillment of the comprehensive mitzvah of tefillin. We are obligated to realize the idea in the purest form possible.

We saw that according to Maimonides this is not true of tefillin, because in his view these are two different mitzvot and not two parts of one mitzvah. Yet this seems possible even in his view with regard to the mitzvah of tzitzit. The logical explanation of his view is the same as the one we suggested with respect to Rabbi Simhah’s view about tefillin.

This resolves the three difficulties we raised above. To conclude this chapter, let us illustrate the distinction we drew between the two tefillin and a wholly accidental combination, such as the grace after meals and redeeming the firstborn donkey.

On Borges, Berkeley, and Maimonides

There is an extreme approach that treats even material objects in a “conventionalist” way, that is, it holds that material objects do not really exist objectively, but are merely phenomena within our consciousness. In philosophy this is called idealism, because it sees objects as ideas.

The main problem that exists in the conventionalist outlook also exists in idealism, and perhaps it is easier to demonstrate there. Borges, in his story “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius,” in the collection Fictions, describes the planet Tlön, governed by Bishop Berkeley, one of the most prominent idealist philosophers. In the “encyclopedic entry” describing Tlön we find the following:

One of the schools of Tlön went so far as to deny time: it argued that the present is indefinite, that the future has no reality except as present hope, and that the past has no reality except as present memory… This is not our concern here.

For the languages of the southern hemisphere of Tlön there are no nouns in the conjectural Ursprache from which the present languages and dialects proceed. There are impersonal verbs, qualified by monosyllabic suffixes or prefixes with adverbial force. For example: there is no word corresponding to the word “moon,” but there is a verb which in English would be “to moon” or “to moonate.” “The moon rose above the river” is