With God’s help

Noon on the eve of Sukkot 5762

 Greetings to Rabbi Ariel.

 An updated copy of my article for 'Tzohar'. As we discussed, I have cut back mainly on the subject of the disputes in reality, and also a little from the sequel.

 With great respect,

Michael Abraham

Yitzhak Sadeh 652/1

Yeruham, 80500

Tel: 08-6583230

 

Myth and historical truth:

Ideya HaPenini, Postmodernism and the New Historians

introduction

The attitude towards the concept of myth has undergone a significant change in the modern period. In the past, myth was treated as a description of a true historical reality, whereas today people often talk about the disconnect between the two levels: the mythical and the historical. In this article, I will start from the problem of disputes concerning reality, and I will link it to the issue of the relationship between myth and historical reality. I will try to show that the approach of the Torah and Halacha to the relationship between myth and reality indicates an ambivalent attitude towards the modern approach that disconnects the two. At the end of my remarks, I will argue that the modern approach to this issue does not really characterize contemporary debates, even in groups that we would expect to act according to this approach. The conclusion will be that the Torah approach, which is seemingly (and really) more outdated, is more in line with prevailing human intuition, even today.

A. Disputes in reality

In the yeshiva world, it is common to say that there is no disagreement at all between Toshbap scholars regarding reality. According to this approach, a disagreement in the Gemara, or in the Mishnah, never revolves around reality but only about Torah or halakhic values. The motivation for saying this is very clear. Since we have accepted from our rabbis that 'these and those are the words of the living God,' we must present their disagreements in a way that neither side is wrong. And here, in the case of value-halakhic disagreements, there are various explanations for how it is possible for two sides to share their rightness together, but in disagreements in reality, there seems to be no way out: only one of the sides can be right, while the other is necessarily wrong. The approach described above, which holds that there are no disagreements at all in reality, is a convenient theoretical way out that the yeshiva world tends to adopt in relation to this predicament.

Some go so far as to say this even regarding disputes between Rishonim. The assumption is that even in disputes between Rishonim we are supposed to believe that there are no errors, and regarding them too the rule is stated, 'These and these are the words of the living God.'

One example of many can be found in the book Minach Mitzvah 32, in the section 'Mosach Hashabbat' (Melachet Dash Sk'ga Sud'a 'Vaktav Rashi'). The Minach there challenges the Rambam by virtue of the assumption that he certainly does not disagree in reality with Rashi who wrote that milk is in the sense of 'fiqid ve'kir' (not connected to Dad). It should be noted that in several aspects this is an extreme example of the view that holds that there are no disagreements in reality. First, the dispute is between Rishonim and not among the Sages. Second, in Shlomo, regarding a dispute on a point that is known to everyone, it is unlikely that there will be disputes, but here it is a non-trivial 'reality' at all (the determination of whether milk is a fiqid or not). Third, the simple explanation in Rambam there is that he disagrees with Rashi, and the Menach not only assumes that there is no dispute here, but he also makes it difficult for Rambam by virtue of this assumption, and is even pushed to the end in explaining his method, s.

Precisely in light of these difficulties, the Manach's determination clearly shows that he assumed a priori, probably for the aforementioned theological reasons, that there could be no disagreements in reality between Toshbap scholars, and even among Rishonim.[1]

B. 'These and these are the words of the living God' in relation to disputes in reality: the concealment of knowledge

If it is difficult to accept the above position of the author of the Manach with respect to the first, it seems that the situation is not so simple with respect to the Tan'im and Amoraim. When examining various disputes in Chazal, Halacha, and Aggadah, one quickly discovers that there are quite a few disputes that are based on disputes in reality. Clear examples are questions such as existence or non-existence (whether Job was and was created, or whether he was or was not a rebellious and misguided son, etc.). The same is true regarding the reality in the Mishkan (from which the laws of Shabbat work are learned). Another prominent example is found in the dispute between Rabbi Ami and Rabbi Assi in Shavuot, page 26, where the rabbi gives an example of an oath by rape ('the person' - except for rape), where Rabbi Kahana swore that Rabbi said this, and Rabbi Ami swore that Rabbi said the opposite. Afterwards, they came to the Rabbi and he told them what he had really said, and it turned out that one of them was mistaken, and even swore by mistake about it. The same is true regarding a concubine on a hill (Gittin 6, 11) and more.

This is not the place to review all the solutions proposed to the problem of disputes among the Sages, on which much ink has already been spilled (see, for example, Avi Sagi's book 'These and Those', 'Hillel Ben Chaim' Library, Kibbutz HaMeuchad, 1996). I will only point out that in relation to reality, the rule 'These and Those are the words of the living God' cannot be adopted literally, unless we adopt a position that there is no halachic 'truth' at all. If so, the existence of disputes in reality is a fact, although of course it causes distress in the traditional approach.

Rabbi Nathan David Rabinowitz, in the introduction to his book 'Between Years of Generation and Generation' (Yeshivat Ahavat Torah, Jerusalem, 1986)[2], brings a letter by Rabbi Yitzhak Hutner that deals with the issue of realistic disputes (see Pahad Yitzhak Letters and Writings, p. 55).

Rabbi Yitzhak Hutner argues there that the rule "these and those" is also stated about disputes in reality. The explanation is that in fact historical reality is not really the subject of the dispute. It is clear that "the past does not exist," and it interests us only because of its implications for the present. Therefore, the past is nothing more than a device for shaping the halakhic law that binds us in the present. From the perspective of halakhic law, what is decisive is the manner in which historical reality was revealed to the sage of the Masoretic school, and not reality itself. Therefore, the study of the verses that leads to a certain realistic understanding is reality itself from a halakhic perspective. Accordingly, there are no disputes at all in reality, in the accepted sense. All disputes are in fact disputes over how reality is seen.

The emerging rule is that a dispute concerning the interpretation of the Torah, even if the question at issue is a historical-realistic question, is also subject to the rule, "These and these are the words of the living God." So far, we have dealt with disputes that are based on biblical interpretation. Regarding realistic questions that are not derived from the interpretation of verses, it can be said that one sage is right and the other is wrong.

For example, in the context of scientific facts, the problem of errors among the Sages arises. Here, there is no need to reach into controversy in order to overwhelm the problem, since a statement that is not controversial, but that contradicts scientific reality (at least as we understand it today), raises the same problem. Do we really necessarily have to understand that the Sages were not wrong in relation to reality?

Rabbi Neriah Gotal, in his book 'The Variations of Nature in Halacha' (Yachadiu Institute, Jerusalem, 1995), deals extensively with this issue, and there is no need to dwell on it here. I will only point out that his conclusion (as cited mainly in the P.C. and in the sources cited there) is an approach that disconnects the halachic position from the reality that ostensibly constitutes the foundation for it. The laws that are ostensibly based on realistic assertions are not really based on them. He claims that there are hidden reasons for all halachic law, and they are what constitute it (as cited in his sources). Therefore, it is possible to argue about the scientific facts that are presented by the Sages, but this does not cancel the obligation to the laws derived from them.[3]

One can see here an approach similar to that of Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner. A disconnect between the reality that supposedly underlies the Halacha, and the Halacha itself. In Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner's terms, one could perhaps say that Halacha is determined not according to reality but according to the manner in which it is revealed to the Toshbap scholars.[4]

So, the obvious conclusion from the first part of the discussion is that the historical truth of biblical events, and history in general, is in fact of no importance, and what is important to us from a Torah perspective are only the conclusions that arise from them. In modern terminology, it is said that the reality described in the Bible is given the status of a 'myth', whose truth is of no importance but rather the message conveyed through it. Is it possible that there is nevertheless importance in clarifying the historical reality itself?

C. Myths and Truth

The approach we have seen disconnects the historical truth of any 'myth' from the meaning of the myth for us. This is ostensibly the modern approach prevalent today with respect to myths in general.

The main argument of the researchers of myths themselves, and researchers of the concept of myth (=philosophers of myth), is that the meaning and power of any mythical story does not depend on the degree of historical truth in it. According to this approach, a mythical story that constitutes a founding foundation for any culture should not be examined according to historical parameters. Many myths that have no factual basis fulfill their important cultural-educational function, even if it is clear that they did not exist and were not created.

It is true that a community operating under the inspiration of a myth often perceives it as an unquestionable truth, but this recognition does not in any way diminish its influence and importance. According to them, even those who are endowed with more critical thinking, and understand that the myth in question has no factual basis, have no reason to be surprised by the myth, to be influenced by it, and even to be educated according to it.

I am not familiar with a systematic book in Hebrew that deals with the subject of myth, but there is a very interesting collection of articles edited by David Ohana and Robert Wistrich, called 'Myth and Memory' (Van Leer Institute and Kibbutz Hameuhad, Jerusalem, 1997). Throughout this book, the above approach is presented in a very clear and decisive manner. In the introduction to this book, the editors write the following key sentences:

The historian examines a society on a vertical axis of time; the sociologist analyzes it on a horizontal axis, at a given point in time; the mythologist, the researcher of myths, is entrusted with the axis of depth: the axis of dreams, desires, and memories.

Beyond the disconnect between myth and historical reality implied here, there is an expression here of another modern (and, in fact, postmodern) development in the study of myths. In the past, when a scholar refuted the truth of a myth, it was in order to challenge the society that operated under the inspiration of that myth. For example, various biblical scholars, members of the 'Wisdom of Israel', challenge the historical truth of what is described in the Bible, and to a lesser extent in the Talmud. The conclusion of most of them (and some would say: their initial motivation as well) is that what is said in the Bible has no validity, because it has no historical truth.

Today, in the postmodern era, there is tolerance, and sometimes even complete legitimacy, for acting within the cultural framework of a myth, even if it is clear to us that it lacks any factual basis. After the modernist era debunked the truth of myth, the postmodern era comes and asks: So what? A myth does not have to be true. This is the second assumption hidden in the above quote by Ohana Wistrich. Not only is myth disconnected from historical reality, but such a disconnection is legitimate.

In the Torah context, we encounter a disregard for historical reality in allegorical interpretations of the Bible. The first allegorical Jewish commentator, known as the founder of Jewish allegorism, is Philo (Yedidya) of Alexandria. He was followed by Yedidya of Penin (Habedarshi),[5] And his group, who in the Rambam's time were hanging on to allegorical interpretations of the Bible. A well-known allegorical reference to the Bible, which of course has roots in Kabbalah (also appears in the Rashba's Responsa, see below) is the reference to Abraham our father and Sarah our mother as symbols that represent the concepts of matter and form.

In fact, these positions can be seen as a prelude to the postmodern attitude towards myth. The pearly knowledge assumes that the real facts are not important, but only the conclusions (philosophical, in his case, and halakhic-thoughtful in the ones discussed above) that are derived from them. Ultimately, as we have already seen above, the relevant part from a Torah perspective is only the ethical-halakhic conclusions, and not the factual level.

The Rashba in his responsums (Chapter 11, 196-198) refers to these positions of Yedaiah the Peninite, in sending the famous boycott letter. The boycott was imposed on anyone who deals with philosophy before the age of twenty-five. The reason for this is that anyone who deals with these subjects too early (before 'having filled their stomachs with Shas and Poskim') is liable to reach the hasty and serious conclusions reached by Yedaiah the Peninite and his friends.

The question that arises here is what is the great problem and seriousness that the Rashba sees in these positions? Why is it that someone who observes a minor commandment as a serious one, but doubts the factual basis underlying the historical events in the Bible, has a flaw in his faith?

This is reinforced sevenfold in light of what we saw above. Rabbi Yitzhak Hutner, as well as the sources cited in Rabbi Gotal's aforementioned book, regard the realistic determinations that underlie disputes, or halakhic determinations, as non-binding in themselves.

D. The Peninnese and Post-Zionist Approach

In this chapter, I would like to point out the relevance of the question we are dealing with in relation to the questions that are being projected into our world today. In addition, I would like to point out the positions that underlie the prevalent references to the questions discussed.

As mentioned, Yedaya HaPenini applies a postmodern approach to the concept of myth in his words. The claim is that the historical truth in the myth is of no importance, but only the halakhic-Torah implications that are derived from it. We have seen that in Jewish thought this approach is not apparently foreign, and has implications in several areas, halakhic and others.

Surprisingly, today's Israeli society is troubled by very similar questions. These so-called 'new historians' raise pointed questions about the truth of Zionist 'myths'. Within the framework of these discussions, the question of the behavior of IDF soldiers in and between the various wars is raised, the question of the existence of a Palestinian people, the question of our right to the land, etc. In the course of discussing these questions, myths that accompanied us throughout the early years of the state are shattered, and in fact we did not treat them as myths at all. It was obvious to us that these were simple factual statements.

The same historical critics claim, for example, that Trumpeldor actually cursed in Russian, and did not utter the immortal phrase that we were all raised on: 'It is better to die for our country.' The same new historians also reveal to us about massacres and exiles carried out by Israeli fighters and politicians in various periods, about the murder of prisoners of war, and more.

This criticism naturally provokes harsh and painful counter-reactions. Some members of the public rebel against these descriptions, claiming that they are completely untrue, that they take the events out of context, and so on.

I do not wish to address the question of what of this criticism, as well as the objections to it, is factually based, and what is nothing but pure fabrication (and there are certainly such elements in the 'new' history, as was recently proven in court,[6] But also in 'old' history.) Here I would like to point out a puzzling fact that underlies these debates.

There is no denying that there is an almost perfect correspondence between the political-ideological worldview of the parties in this debate and their positions on historical issues. I hardly know an enthusiastic Zionist, certainly not a right-winger, who is a new historian. Almost all of them are clearly leftists (there are a few of them, but they are very few. It is interesting that political motivations are also attributed to them, such as the attack on the Mapainik establishment that led the Yishuv in its early years).[7]

This fundamental diagnosis raises two main questions:

1. The questions discussed are historical-factual questions. Therefore, there is no reason why an unbiased historical researcher would not adopt a 'new' position, even if he recognizes our right to the land and perhaps even advocates expelling the Arabs from here. The same is true vice versa. I see no reason why an anti-Zionist leftist would not recognize the truth of the 'old' history. On the factual level, he will claim that the description is correct, but on the ethical level, he will hold to leftist positions, however extreme. Ostensibly, there should be no connection between factual questions and ethical-political questions.[8]

It is true that a distinction must be made between two types of historical facts. If someone indeed advocates the position that Zionism was a virtuous and righteous movement without any moral deviations, then it is clear that he cannot be a new historian, at least in the sense of moral criticism of the Zionist movement. This is an example of a factual position, not an ideological position, and therefore it is certainly supposed to be influenced by facts. On the other hand, such a person can certainly be a clear and extreme leftist with respect to questions of our right, or the right of the Palestinians, to the land. For this reason, it is worth dividing the debates about the massacres and the exile, and the debates about the heroism of the Zionist act (such as 'Trumpeldor, the few against the many,' etc.). Here, it would seem to me, there is no connection between the facts and the ideology, and therefore it would seem possible to completely separate them.

2. There is another problem, more important to our subject, that arises in view of the nature of the public debate about history. If indeed we are already wise and intelligent and know the postmodern doctrine, and understand that there is nothing between the truth of the myth and the values it represents, why should we argue about all these historical questions? On the one hand, the new historians, who, as mentioned, most of them have an anti-Zionist worldview, could have attacked the Zionist position even if they agreed with the 'old' historical facts. There is no doubt that it is possible to believe that 'it is bad to die for our country' even if Trumpeldor did say the opposite. Certainly, history does not need to be distorted (and as I have noted, there are cases in which this is clearly done) in order to argue with the ideas of Zionism. On the other hand, the opposite is also true. The Zionist part of the public could accept the appeals of the new historians, and believe that Trumpeldor cursed in Russian, while at the same time educating generations on Trumpeldor's myth that it is good to die for our country.

It should be emphasized that these two claims are aimed at the 'defenders', who seemingly do not need to insist on the historical truth of the 'old' history, but even more so at the 'attackers', who certainly do not need to insist on undermining the accepted Zionist historiography in order to undermine its ideological-ethical foundation.

The second problem relates to the very fact that ideological bias in general can lead people to certain conclusions regarding historical facts. Ostensibly, there is no point in treating historical facts in a biased manner, since they have no connection to the various ideologies in debate. It is not apparent why we even have to deal with the facts in order to change values?

The conclusion that emerges from the second problem is that, surprisingly, Both sides of the debate think that the truth of the myth being taught is very important.In the opinion of both sides, it is not enough to educate about some myth, but it must also have a factual basis. It is this tendency that causes those with opposing ideologies to adopt opposite historical-factual descriptions.

This is a very surprising phenomenon, since at least the post-Zionist wing of this debate, which usually relies on postmodern thinking, and is certainly aware of the prevailing theoretical disconnect between the truth of the myth and the possibility of educating about it and acting according to it, does not act as we would expect it to, and as dictated by the theory it itself advocates. We are coming to know, surprisingly, that even the proponents of postmodern ideology act as if the historical truth of the myth is important and significant.

Ephraim Karsh, in his book 'Fibrok Israeli History', expresses his bewilderment towards the new historians, and the late:

Morris [=Benny Morris, one of the most prominent, and somewhat more moderate, of the new historians] never fulfilled the model of the researcher with pure intentions and without bias, which is, ostensibly, a lamp to his feet... He repeatedly sang praises of writing "objective history": "The historian of the Israeli-Arab conflict should try to write about this conflict as if it were the war between Carthage and Rome, or as if he had just arrived from Mars and was observing what was happening without ties or obligations."

If so, why did Morris find it necessary to distort and distort almost every document he relied on in his attempt to prove his argument that the idea of the 'transfer' had "a solid foundation in mainstream Jewish thinking in the late 1930s and 1940s"?

Why the need for "creative rewriting" of original documents and their tendentious truncation [=as Karsh shows in his aforementioned book] in a way that turns their original intent on its head? Isn't it reasonable to assume that a correct and solid thesis can stand on its own two feet without any verbal acrobatics? After all, Morris himself defined a "less good historian" as one who "will reveal only some of the facts (ignore or conceal the others)."[9]

I do not wish to enter into a defense of Benny Morris here, nor of the distortion of history in general. I wish to try to answer Karsh's question, or more precisely the assumption underlying it: Why should a new historian really change history in order to 'push' his ideology (even when he does not do so by deliberate distortions)?

It is important to note, in relation to the comparison between the Yaddaiya HaPenini and the new historians, that they 'walk together' only part of the way. The Yaddaiya HaPenini fully accepted the authority of the Torah and Halacha, but he allowed himself to question the historical basis on which it is based. He was a true postmodernist, for he denied the facts (the historical truth of the myth) and adopted the values that they express. In contrast, the proponents of the 'new' history deny the historical basis of Zionism, and deduce (and call on others to deduce) from this the lack of commitment to the Zionist ideology that is based on these myths. Despite the postmodern slogans about the lack of connection between historical truth and the significance of myth, they themselves still treat myths in a very conservative manner. In this sense, both sides of the modern-postmodern debate are on the side of the Rashba, and not with the Yaddaiya HaPenini.[10]

This conclusion leads us to ask even more forcefully why all of us, on our various sides, are unwilling to separate the historical reality from the myth on which we educate. Why can't we educate about Trumpeldor as a fairy tale, and why are we fighting for the truth of this mythical story? At the same time, let's return to our previous question about the Rashba: why should we accept the historical reality of Abraham and Sarah, and not be satisfied only with the obligations that are derived from what is written in the Torah regarding us.

To make the point clearer, it should be noted (as I did with regard to the two types of facts on the issue of post-Zionism) that I do not intend to separate layers that cannot be separated. Someone whose faith is indeed based on the historical existence of the Mount Sinai status cannot accept the obligations derived from the Mount Sinai status without believing in its historical occurrence (although I know quite a few Jews, observant to one degree or another, who do hold such a view. And Tzla). Here the historical position is completely clear to me. My intention here is to make it difficult only with regard to those occurrences, or figures, that are not a necessary condition for accepting the obligations themselves. For example, with Yedeya HaPenini we saw that despite the disconnect between the myth of Abraham and Sarah and the historical truth of that myth, he was prepared for full commitment. So why did the Rashba think that there was a flaw in his faith?

This is doubly true for those who interpret the Bible in an algorithmic manner out of conflict with the results of modern research. Here, seemingly, there is a truly 'heroic' attempt to hold on to the realm of faith, even though the research seems to contradict it. In this case, the algorithmic interpretation is not a device for evading commitment but rather a means for continuing to be subject to it. So why are those who hold to algorithmic interpretations of the Bible often perceived by us as having defective faith?

E. The mythic concept underlying the Rashba's boycott

In order to clarify the idea that, in my opinion, underlies the Rashba's conception of myth, I will first briefly discuss a well-known legendary issue.

The story of the consecration of the mother and her seven sons during the period of the 'Greek Controversy' appears in several sources, including the Sages, and also in Josephus, in various formulations. In Tanda Rabbah, Chapter 30, the story ends with the mother's address to her sons (who had already been killed):

My sons, go and tell Abraham our father, do not let your mind be deceived and say, "I built an altar and offered my son Isaac on it." For I built seven altars and offered my seven sons on it in one day, and he is only in trial without action, and I am in action.

Of course, the Midrash does not provide an answer to that mother's piercing question, but the question continues to resonate in the void of the world to this day. Many Israelites sacrificed themselves and their families for the sanctification of His great name, and why then do we dedicate such a unique and special place to our forefather Abraham?[11]

There is a common answer to this, and I don't know its origin. The claim is that our forefather Abraham 'reduced' this measure of dedication to sanctifying God to the world. After him, it became easier to do so.

This explanation can perhaps be understood on a different psychological, or 'rational' level. One could say that after we have learned about Abraham and been influenced by him, we manage to do his deeds more easily, and this is no longer such a big deal. My intention here is to make a different claim: there is a metaphysical influence here. Our father Abraham has a part in the act of that mother and her seven sons, beyond the fact that the act was done under his influence. My intention is to say that even those who have not heard of our father Abraham, or of the Akedah, are influenced by it in a specific way. This is not an 'educational myth' in the sense accepted today, but a 'working myth' (see Barish Orot Hakodesh for such a perception of the Torah in general).[12]

To the same extent, when we say that Abraham our father is the pillar of kindness in the world, we mean a metaphysical statement, meaning that the quality of kindness is literally 'found in him.' He is a center of kindness that radiates to all around him and also to the generations that come after him. Here too, we do not mean a moral, psychological, or other influence, but rather a metaphysical relationship: Abraham our father is a causal factor for the kindness that is done in the world, even among those who have never heard of Abraham our father and his deeds.

I apologize to the 'rationalist' reader who (like me) finds this kind of explanation, or this kind of position, difficult. Below I will try to show that the great 'rationalists' actually act in a way that indicates precisely such a perception.

In my humble opinion, this is the assumption that underlies the Rashba's perception of myth, and probably all of us as well. A myth is not just a story about which we educate ourselves and our children and students. If it were like that, its historical truth would really be of no importance. Myth is a causal focus of influenceThe actions of our forefather Abraham influence his sons, as do the actions of all fathers. Without this influence, they would be like other legendary or semi-legendary myths, which have no real impact, beyond their narrative-psychological power (these are indeed 'educative myths').

The status of Mount Sinai is also not a myth. If the status of Mount Sinai was not in historical reality, or if the fathers and their deeds were not in historical reality, it would not have been possible to educate about them in a meaningful way. There is also a different perception of the concept of 'education' in general here. Education is also not just a psychological influence, but a causal influence (not a deterministic one, of course). It is not possible to educate a people, or any social group, to act and surrender the soul throughout history, solely on the basis of shared myths, in the modern sense of the concept of 'myth.' This impossibility is not a psychological-educational problem, otherwise the myth and its historical truth would be nothing more than an educational means. This is a real problem, the indication of which is that it is not possible to educate about a lie, or about a historical mirage.[13]

At this very point, the postmodern view stands in contrast to the view here. According to postmodernism, reality and truth are of no importance in anything. Not of myths, nor of scientific facts. Everything is context-dependent, and involves presuppositions that are essentially unjustified, and cannot even be justified. Therefore, the postmodern assumption (do they have assumptions too!?) is usually that assumptions are adopted for self-interested reasons. Postmodernism perceives myths as self-interested means to advance social, educational, and national goals. That is why conspiratorialism so characterizes the postmodernists' view of the reality around them. Their own glasses turn everyone around them into conspiratorial people.

As mentioned, postmodernism also has a different concept of education.[14] According to the postmodernist, education is the use of various means, the historical or even scientific truth of which is of no importance, but only their educational value. Admittedly, there is an ambivalent dimension to this postmodern relationship: on the one hand, it gives it legitimacy, since we have no possibility or access to truth per se. On the other hand, the mythological element in myth always stands in the background, and therefore there is no willingness to treat it in a binding manner. We use it as long as it is convenient for us. When it is not convenient for us, we throw it away.

I reiterate that I do not intend to argue here against the postmodern approach with an instrumental argument: that is, that according to them, myth becomes an ineffective means, or that it cannot 'work' with such an approach (for example, because what is not real is psychologically difficult for us to educate about). I intend here to make a claim about reality: this is not the true meaning of myth.

Above we saw that even those postmodernists (post-Zionists) often do not act towards myths in accordance with their stated theoretical approach. We saw that they find it necessary to fight against the historical truth in the myth in order to shatter the values conveyed through it. This fact indicates that they also agree that there is a correlation between these two layers.

The post-Zionist may indeed argue in his defense that this war is being waged because we, who have a naive (primitive) approach to myths, attach importance to the historical truth in them. In other words, the war against the historical truth in myth can be interpreted as a war 'according to our system.' The postmodernist will argue that since his opponents have a naive position that links myth with historical truth, he has no choice but to shatter the historical truth underlying their myth in order to convince them to give it up.

It seems to me that this defense does not reflect the truth (although, as mentioned, a true postmodernist would not be bothered by this either), and here I return to problem 1 above.

One of the clear indications that this post-Zionist approach is genuine and not instrumental is the seemingly strange correlation that exists between the perception of history and the ethical-ideological position (problem 1 above). For some reason, most opponents of Zionist values not only bother to fight against the 'old' historical description, but also succeed in doing so. As a result of their research, they factually deny, to one degree or another, the historical truth of the Zionist myths (otherwise they could not fight, at least not an honest intellectual war).

It is important to understand the difference between the two levels. It is possible that there was a motivation to fight for historical reality in order to shatter ideology, a motivation that is based on the 'ideology' of the naive. However, motivation in itself is no guarantee that historical research will actually support it factually. If there is indeed a disconnect between reality and ideology, there is no reason why, if I want to shatter a historical myth for reasons of ideological war, I will actually find a factual basis for this war. If indeed, the 'new historian' wants to fight Zionism only for reasons of 'their ideology,' it is in principle expected that a situation will arise in which he does not find a 'weapon.' It is possible that his research would indicate the reliability of the old historiography, and then, despite the motivation to refute it, he will be forced to admit its truth.

If indeed, there is no real correlation between the level of historical facts and the level of values, how do we explain the fact that such a correlation clearly exists on the ground? In other words, the very fact that the new historian does succeed in seeing that the old history is incorrect, and history as it was indeed suited his ideology, is itself proof that there is a real connection here, and not just the use of a naive method, the 'method of the naive Zionists.'

The true meaning of the connection is that those who see history in a certain way are led to believe in the values it reflects. The planes cannot be separated, as postmodernists might like to do.

It is true that either side of the debate can be accused of dishonesty, or bias, and then the argument here is invalid, but I think it would be wrong to cast such a blame on both sides (except for a few who are indeed dishonest, see my comments above). To the best of my knowledge, people really believe in 'their' history, and this is because such a correlation does exist. The reason for this is the assumption that is shared by all of us, on all sides (even those who declare a different theoretical position): There is a strong connection between the perception of historical reality and the belief in the values it reflects. Therefore, someone who does not believe in the Zionist myths cannot be a true Zionist, and to the same extent, someone who believes in them will have a very difficult time being a true post-Zionist. This is the reason why we do not find post-Zionists who believe in the historical truth of the Zionist myths, because if they did believe in them, they would also be Zionists. And vice versa.

The conclusion that emerges from all of the above is that all parties act as if there is a strong connection between the historical truth in the myth and the values it conveys and reflects. The positions that deny such a connection are merely theoretical, and the behavior of those who hold those positions (at least most of them) reflects this most of all.

Therefore, it should come as no surprise that the Rashba sees a serious problem in the post-historicism of the school of Philo and the pearly Idaiya. Anyone who thinks that Abraham and Sarah were matter and form is not a true believer. He may be observing a commandment, but this too is not a stable and rooted state of worship of God. It is important for me to emphasize again: this is not an instrumental claim, that Idaiya and his friends will not be able to educate about untrue myths over time, and that this poses a danger to their faith or the faith of their students. My argument is that the fact that they will not be able to do so is an indication of a real, not a technical, problem in their faith. There is already a flaw in their faith. This is exactly the message that the Rashba is sending us through his boycott letter.[15]

F. 'History of High Need': Three Concluding Remarks

I would like to end with three comments.

1. Above we saw Rabbi Yitzhak Hutner's explanation of the phenomenon of disagreement in reality. The explanation offered was based on the fact that the disagreement is not in reality but in the way we see it. This is a kind of Kantian approach, which regards facts as belonging to the phenomenon (=the world as we see it), and not to the world per se (=the noumena).

There seems to be a postmodern approach here. Indeed, I am not interested in the historical truth of the myth, but only in the values that I want to draw from it. This is precisely where our discussion of the modern (or: postmodern) perception of myth began. So, in light of the position I presented at the end of my remarks that gives importance to the historical truth of myth, the question returns again: what place is there for disputes in reality?

It seems to me that there is no choice but to adopt the words of the Ramban here (which were also cited in the aforementioned letter of Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner), and to say that God gave the sages the power to determine reality. Of course, I do not mean to say that reality changes retroactively, but rather that the educational metaphysical power (= the operative power) that historical reality has, and that mythical stories do not have a historical basis, also exists for the (virtual) reality that was determined by the sages of the Oral Torah. If any sage of the Oral Torah determines that they found a sign in the soup for a concubine on the hill, then this is the historical reality from our perspective, and it has the power to act like real reality. Although there is no rewriting of history here, there is a granting of power retroactively.[16]

In this comment, I would like to place what has been said here in a broader context of the struggles between halakhah and reality. In my article that appeared in 'Tzohar' 7 ('The Expertise of the Halakhah Ruler as an Evaluator of Reality'), I argued that part of the authority, and in fact the expertise, of a ruler is the determination of reality. Although not in relation to the determination of the facts per se, but in relation to the determination of the attitude towards them (on two levels, p. s.). In the present article too, we encounter a struggle between halakhah rulings, or the determination of a Torah value, and reality. And here too, this happens on two levels:

A. When reality is related to vague everyday concepts, the posk decides when it is 'dangerous'? Or when it is 'ill'? And so on. This level also appeared in the present article, with respect to disputes in reality of the type in the above-mentioned case (is milk alone a fiqlid and an orphan). There the question referred to a vague realistic concept (fiqlid and an orphan, disconnected, or connected), and the posk had to decide whether such a degree of connection indeed constitutes a connection to the matter of milking on Shabbat, or not.

B. A more direct confrontation between the ruling of the halakhah and reality, when seemingly this is an inevitable clash. Such a clash occurs when a Torah scholar states that a gnat was found in the soup, and the reality is (as the other scholar believes) that a fly was found in the soup.

Here too, there is no reason to get into unnecessary logical problems. The argument is that the Torah's assertion receives the power of actual reality, even if it does not correspond to the reality that actually occurred. This power is the metaphysical power of influence, which allows us to educate and create a believing society, based on 'myths.' Without the power of the wisdom of Toshvaf, we would need actual reality in order to use this power of influence, but through the power of Toshvaf, God gives even the 'virtual' reality the same real power.

It is clear that the experience of the learned sage and the arbiter is also fundamentally different from the experience of the postmodern mythic man. The sage himself is trying to reach reality as it really was, and his description of reality is the correct description to the best of his understanding. From his perspective, there is no doubt that there is a striving to explore reality as it was. Only we, as observers, understand that there is a true aspect to each of the realistic descriptions in dispute.

Further discussion of another aspect of the relationship between Halacha and reality can be found in my article in Akademut 9, on Halachaic hermeneutics. The aforementioned article is dedicated to the distinction between yeshivah Torah study and academic study, and in it I point out, among other things, the disregard of yeshivah study and halakhic rulings for the influence of the historical context. This phenomenon has recently been sharply criticized by academia, and I propose there a theoretical platform that can serve as an explanation for this puzzling phenomenon. There too, the main concern is with values that arise from reality and not with reality per se. This topic is long, and certainly related to the subject under discussion, and a reader interested in expanding the scope can refer to the aforementioned article.

3.

The saying is well known (I think it was made by Professor Breuer), 'History is a high necessity.' Many of Israel's great men agree with this statement, as is stated and quoted at the beginning of the book 'Between Generations and Generations' above.

I would like to point out here that nothing I say here is intended to detract in any way from the importance of studying history. In fact, more can be said than that. It is precisely a 'naive' approach that believes in an absolute ability to discover the truth that is liable to discourage those who want to study history when they discover that they are unable to do so, and that there are disagreements between researchers and students about historical facts.

The natural response to such a situation is to adopt a postmodern approach, according to which there is no truth at all, and therefore we should not develop expectations in this area. While this is a great consolation, since if there are no expectations one is not disappointed, it is no less a healing for those who wish to engage in this important field. If there is no truth, there is no point in investing effort in discovering it.

The perspective proposed in this article can restore the lost dignity of historical research. According to this approach, we must discover historical truth, as we understand it. For us, this is the truth, but not because there is no truth at all (as the postmodernist claim), but because it is indeed the truth. It has the power of historical truth (if we do so with the intention of studying Torah), to influence, educate, and constitute a solid cultural foundation for modern Jewish society.

In my aforementioned article in Akademi, I argued against positions that attempt to offer a postmodern solution to parallel problems in the fields of halakhah, and I proposed a solution parallel to the one proposed here, in the name of.

epilogue[17]

In closing, I would like to quote from the words of Rabbi HaNazir in his book 'Kol HaNavoa', which is a reliable source for everything said here, and the late Zahav (Article 1, Section 7):

Torah means both theoretical and practical. Regarding something that does not concern action, the Talmudist asks, "What is its purpose?" The rule is, "Great is Talmud that leads to action." The wise man is "whose actions are more numerous than his wisdom," "and everything is according to the majority of the action," and also "a great action."

And so for her Alexandrian friends, the patriarchs, and the giver of the Torah, they were essentially a living law of the soul and mind.

As emerges from a review of the entire first article, Rabbi Hanazir reverses the conventional relationship between Talmud and practice. His claim is that practice influences learning, and accordingly he interprets Philo's (Yedidya) allegorical approach regarding the patriarchs, that Abraham and Sarah were matter and form, as an approach that claims that their reality causally created ideas and values. He calls this: 'a living, mental and intellectual law.' Abraham and Sarah were living people who not only symbolized the concepts of matter and form, but also acted them out in the world. This is the power of reality that influences ideas and values. These things are also explained there in section 13, and s.l. ibid. (and also in his notes):

The allegorical path of the Alexandrians does not come, as some say, from the historical matter in the Torah being distanced from them, but rather because it is a virtue for the generality of the sages of Israel, as the great modern Jewish religious philosopher, Rabbi Yosef Shlomo Rofe Dilmidigo, the Yeshiva of Candia, says.

Such is the way of the Midrash, Pardes, Pesht, Remez, Drush, Sud, especially in the Midrash Zohar, on which Rabbi Yitzchak Arama also relied, in his philosophical interpretations of the Torah. However, he fought against the multitude of philosophers, who went too far, allegorically, in their reliance on the teaching Rabbi.

These words of the hermit rabbi are the essence of the concept of myth as presented in this article.[18]

[1] A notable, almost grotesque, case involving such a dispute is found in the Book of Genesis 22:1-11, in a question that deals with land measurements in relation to graves. The dispute concerns finding the length of the diagonal of a rectangle whose sides are 6 cubits and 4 cubits long. The Rashbam states that the diagonal is 7 cubits (one and two pentagons), like the diagonal of a square with a side of 5 cubits. Although this is not exact, it can be said that it is "not thin," which is approximately correct (as is known, even in relation to a square there is a certain circle of the exact length of the diagonal, and these things are ancient).

And here in the Toda "Vakgun" there, two mathematical problems were made difficult for him: the second claims that the diagonal of 5 by 5 must be greater than the diagonal of 4 by 6, since the area of the square (25 square cubits) is one square cubit greater than the area of the rectangle (24 square cubits). In other words, the Rashbam relied on the assumption that the diagonal goes along the perimeter, and the Toss relied on the assumption that the diagonal goes along the area.

And, to our embarrassment, in the Makhtahat it seems that both of them were wrong about this (although in the Rishbam one could perhaps say 'not thin' and as a rule). According to the Pythagorean theorem, the square of the diagonal of the rectangle is 52, while the square of the diagonal of the square is 50. That is, the diagonal of the rectangle is longer than that of the square, and not both.

I now invite the reader to discuss the question of whether there is a disagreement among the Rishonim regarding reality, and in particular the question of whether it is correct to say regarding these disagreements the rule, 'These and these are the words of the living God.' And Tzela 3.

It seems that the things said here also concern the question of scientific errors among the Sages and Rishonim, even when they are not controversial, a topic that will be mentioned below.

[2] This book deals with halachic-historical problems, mainly in the Second Temple period, and challenges scholarly positions on these issues. The book is unusual (its author is a Haredi Rosh Yeshiva from the Brisk Beit Midrash), broad-ranging, and instructive.

[3] A similar statement is known as the Chazo'a, which claims that the halakha was determined according to reality two thousand years after the Torah (i.e., during the period of the Amoraic Tannaim), and even if reality changes two thousand years after the Messiah, this does not change the halakha.

[4] It is worth noting that in light of Kant's philosophical doctrine, all reality is like this. In fact, there is no objective reality per se, and every human or other observation of reality shapes it in its image as its likeness. In the light of the above, there seems to be nothing new in Rabbi Hutner's position, since whenever one speaks of reality, one actually means the manner in which it appears to the eyes of the observer. I discuss this matter at length in a book that will be published soon in the journal Aza, and in the journal Akhm.

[5] Student of the Baal Hashloma, author of the book 'The World', late 13th - early 14th century.

[6] See also Ephraim Karsh's book, The Making of Israeli History, Kibbutz Hameuchad, Tel Aviv, 1999.

[7] Uri Milstein is an exception, and a great leader.

[8] In Karsh's aforementioned book, on page 162, the following quote appears:

"Bad history is written by a historian who has an emotional interest in what should have happened, and who selects his sources and quotes only to see what he wants to see." (Albert Horney)

[9] This is what I meant when I said that Morris is one of the moderates of the new historians. This is true both in his attitude and description of Zionism, but mainly in his attitude to metahistorical theory. A true postmodernist denies the possibility of an unbiased description of history. He has no truth at all, historical or otherwise. In this sense, Morris is not a postmodernist, but a perfect modernist (at least in his theory, not sure in practice). He believes in historical truth, and he understands the primary role of the historian in revealing that truth.

[10] It is important to note that there is a thin layer of true postmodernists who maintain such a perfect detachment, but to the best of my knowledge they are a negligible minority. Being a true postmodernist is an almost impossible task, but only for those who are willing to draw from this position its full skeptical conclusions (assuming that a skeptic can draw anything at all. Consult my aforementioned books).

[11] The Danish existential philosopher Søren Kierkegaard also addressed this question in his work "Strength and Trembling," which deals entirely with the story of the sacrifice and the figure of Abraham, the "Knight of Faith." Kierkegaard's explanation is that Abraham sacrificed his son despite the moral and intellectual paradox that was involved (this is the meaning of the nickname "Knight of Faith"). This answer is not satisfactory, and not only because of the fact that in the Christian view, living in paradox is a symbol and the pinnacle of faith, but in Kerem Beit Yisrael it seems that this is a foreign band, and elsewhere I have expanded.

See also the collection of articles by the Rev. Y.D., which addressed this issue.

[12] There is a similar common explanation for the question of how many scholars in our time are drawn to the excuses of the great Rishonim, despite the passing of generations. Here too, the explanation is that after the Rishonim 'brought down' the explanation to the world, it is easier to say it. I am not sure that I identify with the question and with the assumption about the passing of generations in this sense, but it is important for me to show from this that anyone who says this is certainly not aiming for a metaphor, nor for psychological influence, since here we are talking about a scholar who was not previously familiar with the explanation that was given by him.

[13] The concept of 'education' in the context of the dedication of the altar, or the Temple and its vessels in general, does not express an educational action in the modern sense, but rather a practical action that does something to the Temple and the altar, and through them to us as well.

[14] A large part, and perhaps most, of the files published on the subject of postmodernity, to the best of my knowledge, deal with the concept of education, which is of course a very problematic concept in the postmodern context. The solution usually proposed to this problem is some kind of renunciation of postmodernity (usually the one renouncing it himself does not feel that his solution does so), or that the trend of education becomes education for postmodernity, and nothing more (it is important to note that such a solution is also a certain renunciation of postmodernity (see my aforementioned books).

[15] If the claim was merely instrumental, it was unfair. Does the Rashba really require its informants and friends to say things they do not believe in, just so as not to harm the beliefs of others? It is unlikely that this was the Rashba's intention. The Rashba required them to believe what he believed, and not just say so, one with his mouth and one in his heart.

[16] This concept is parallel to the concept of 'from here and to the future retroactively' in the teaching of Rabbi Shimon Shkop and his student Rabbi Shmuel Rozovsky (see, for example, Rabbi Shmuel's lessons on Tractate Makot 3, 1911, and the references therein). We relate to reality, according to the determination of the Oral Torah sages, only from here and to the future (and do not rewrite history), but the reference from here and to the future is also retroactively. In our observation, in the present tense, the reference is as if history itself had been changed.

[17] For the fundamental insight of this article, as well as many other ideas, I owe thanks to Rabbi Hanazir zt"l. Studying his book 'Kol HaNavo'ah' revealed whole worlds to me, and the insight here also emerged during the lessons I gave at the Yeshiva in Yeruham in 1999-2000, where we studied this book of his.

[18] As for Rabbi Hanazir's interpretation of Philo's words, I am not so sure. It seems that according to his interpretation, Philo's approach is that Abraham and Sarah were 'living law,' meaning real, living people who were also in the nature of law. It is generally accepted that Philo perceived them only as 'law,' which is not 'living,' and this is apparently how Yedaiah the Peninnis also understood it, and as a Mushnet. And it seems that Rabbi Hanazir commented on this there in section 13 and in the comments, and maintained his opinion (as in all his words).

In fact, it can be seen that the entire first article in the book 'Kol HaNovea' is dedicated to this, which deals mainly with the issue of parables in the Torah. The concept of 'parable' undergoes a transformation there similar to the one that the concept of myth underwent in the present article. According to Rabbi HaNazir in the aforementioned article, a parable has a connection of cause and effect to and from the parable, and not just a coincidental (psychological) connection of similarity between them. This is a matter for another article, and let the wise man be wiser still.