The Belittling Embarrassment Of Rabbi Broyde

So far, the wincingly-embarrassing revelations that Rabbi Dr. Michael Broyde had used more than one pseudonym to express himself anonymously in the public arena have besmirched his personal reputation, but no doubt had been publicly cast over the rigour and reliability of his academic work and piskei halacha. 

But it seems that there are holes in his academic and halachic probity as well. My old friend Steven I Weiss has written an article for the Jewish Channel, describing a detailed, controversial article written by Rabbi Broyde for Tradition about women's hair coverings, the scholarship of which was buttressed by a letter from an elderly Talmudic scholar named David Keter. Weiss's article casts serious doubts on the existence of such a person. Read Weiss' full article here. Rabbi Broyde's online article for hirhurim, which substantiated his halachic claims by relying on David Keter's support can be read here. Nothing is yet proven, but if this is indeed true then his lack of yashrus moves from the childishly embarrassing to the shamefully dishonest.

I have another example of Rabbi Broyde's apparent fabrication of halachic proof. A couple of years ago, Rabbi Broyde was in London, UK, and gave a shiur to a coneference of Jewish doctors. In the course of his lecture, he referred to a letter from the Lubavitcher rebbe which permitted prospective medical students to take entrance exams on Shabbat. My husband thought that this was an unusual position for the Lubavitcher Rebbe to take, and contacted his own Rav, the Lubavitcher Chassid and talmid chacham Rabbi Chaim Rapoport, shlita. Rabbi Rapoport was also puzzled by this; he said that he had never heard of such a psak from the Rebbe, and that he does not think that the Lubavitcher Rebbe would have said such a thing, for a number reasons. My husband then emailed Rabbi Broyde, asking where he could find the source the Rabbi Broyde had refered to. Rabbi Broyde's response was "I do not think it has been published.". My husband felt that this was an unsatisfactory answer, and emailed him again to ask "If not, where can I find reference to it to look into it further?". He received no further reply.


At the time, my husband thought that this seemed strange. If a letter has not been published, then how can Rabbi Broyde know of it to refer to it? And the psak in this letter contradicts the huge amount that is documented already about the Lubavitcher Rebbe's stance in this regard. In light of the discovery that Rabbi Broyde has fabricated other material, which was not halachically sensitive, his reliability in presenting 'new' halachic proofs is also affected.


I had initially felt pure sympathy and embarrassment for Rabbi Broyde, along with the sense that it is such a stupid thing to do. How embarrassing to be derided in this way! How shameful for a man of letters and scholarship to engage in such petty, childish tricks! But my sympathy is slowly evaporating. To engage in childish games of 'bigging up' one's importance and blowing one's own trumpet anonymously is one - ridiculous, embarrassing - thing. But to present inauthentic academic scholarship is another. And, to my mind, to create proofs to substantiate a halachic argument which cannot stand on it own legs is a far more serious third issue.

Chazal tell us that in the next World, man is presented with a retrospective of his life. The tzadikim, who triumphed over sin, will look back at the desire for sin which they overcame and say 'It was like a huge chasm', while the wicked who gave in to the desire to sin will say 'it was like a small hole'. This seems to be the wrong way around; surely he who gave into sin should think that the desire to sin was as large as a chasm, while he who triumphed over the desire should view his desire as something small and easily overwhelmed. Yet the reverse is true. When the wicked look back at the sin they gave into, they will see how petty and meaningless that sin was. They will wish that they had overcome their desire to do something which was nothing but a waste. The righteous, when they look back at their lives, will recognise that the fact that they triumphed over their base desires was an achievement of pure will, and that their victory is indeed great.

It seems to me that Rabbi Broyde's actions are similar. Maybe when he did it, it seemed like something important; something that no one would ever know about; something that didn;t really matter, because he was right anyway. And now that it is all being dragged into the bright light of public opinion, perhaps he is realising how small his sin was.


I remember reading somewhere that the sins we really regret are not the huge sins of ideology or conscience, but the petty sins of desire and smallness. It is sad that someone who is a great thinker and a great teacher has dragged himself down in this way.

Different Approaches To Learning Tanach

Yesterday, I went to a shiur by R' Menachem Leibtag. I confess I got there late and so I missed the beginning of this particular tangent. He was teaching about the morning blessing of 'laasok b'divrei Torah - to be immersed in the words of Torah'. He was discussing the different yeshiva approaches to learning Tanach - either that of emunas chachamim (trust - one could say blind trust - in the explanations of earlier teachers), where you learn Tanach through the prism of our Sages, including the disinclination to teach anything negative about any biblical character (I think that there are probably ranges within this approach), or an alternative approach where you first read and think about a text yourself, and then you turn to the Sages to try to understand it.

R' Menachem is not a fire and brimstone person. He pointed out that both approaches have their dangers. The 'yeshivish' approach is far more successful at inculcating fear of heaven, good character traits, and keeping kids 'on the derech'. But it comes at a price. (Those are his words.)

But without original study of original texts, one won't understand rabbinical statements (nor rabbinical writings such as the siddur, as R' Menachem is currently teaching us). So there are dangers and drawbacks to both sides.

And I am curious - what do you think? Do you agree that the 'emunas chachamim' approach is more successful? Do you think that the price R' Menachem refers to is worth paying? Or do you think that the 'original study' approach is better?

To speak personally, i was taught in a manner which was more in line with the 'emunas chachamim' approach. I grew up learning the commentary of Rashi along with Torah, and it truly affected how I read Torah until today. I would see the words of the verses, but I would be reading Rashi and Midrash under and through and between the lines. For many years, this went on without my even realising it. I remember many times when my husband would raise a question on the weekly Torah portion, and my response would be 'I don;t see any question, it's obvious, Rashi says...' (if someone who doesn't know me is reading this, my husband is ba'al teshuvah and did not grow up learning the commentaries alongside the verses). It would be hard for me to see the contradiction, because the answer that Rashi gave was so ingrained in my consciousness.

This means that I had to learn how to read the Tanach simply, how to read what is there and see what could be there, should be there, and shouldn't be there. While i have no real complaints about the my education (well, I do in parts), since it got me to where I am today, it genuinely took years for me to be able to read some parts of Torah at face value - without the overlay of classical commentary and Midrash. Today, that overlay is still there for me, but i am able to recognise it for what it is and push past it. Nowadays, it means that i have a warehouse stocked with midrashic and rabbinic material which i am able to draw on, when I have spotted those puzzles and patterns that lurk amongst the verses.

To me, the effect of seeing Rashi's commentary and midrash along with the words of Tanach is like looking through smeared glasses. You can see better than without them on - but you still can't see clearly.

Women Of The Wall

I'm not sure why I think this is a good idea, but i'm going to share my thoughts on the current furore over the Women of the Wall.

I think that what they do is either unnecessary or unexceptional. To pray with tallis and tefillin is unnecessary. The halachic truth (as I have heard it taught): it is not forbidden for women to wear either item. It is not required, and traditionally women never had worn them. Time has hallowed them to be men-only items, but that doesn't mean that any woman who does wear them is breaking any laws. But it is not necessary.

I don't agree with the desire to wear a tallis and tefillin. I don't think it adds anything. But nor am I going to get het up about someone else choosing to wear them. I will think her misguided, but not a sinner. She is someone who wishes to come close to God, who thinks that this will increase her sense of spirituality and inspiration, and although in my opinion she is going about it in an erroneous way, she is not breaking any laws and is also not disturbing my ability to connect with God.

I think that all these claims about the WoW causing disturbances and interfering with the ability of others to pray at the kotel are all spurious. Granted many (most?) people there will not agree with it nor like it. Granted, it may make them feel uncomfortable. But you know what? Life is like that. 

Life is full of things that make us feel uncomfortable. even when we pray. And as anyone who has ever prayed at the kotel knows, it is an experience which is fraught with distractions and disturbances. Sephardi women hanging over the mechitzah (separation) at barmitzvahs, ululating and throwing sweets. Women asking for charity money. Christian tourists praying to Jesus the Messiah (I find that particularly disturbing). Women of all types pushing past you to touch the stones. Hot sun sizzling on your back. Women walking backwards to leave the prayer plaza and bumping into you or treading on your toes. Mobile phones going off. People sobbing loudly. If you want a peaceful, undisturbed prayer experience, the kotel is not the place to go.

I think that the complaints that the WoW prayed too loudly or sang too loudly are also spurious. I accept that they might make it hard for men to pray (but see my point above). The men do have other places to move to to pray. They also could pray louder themselves, or join in, thus preventing themselves from hearing the women's voices. They could just wait a bit till they are finished. or they could be more consistent and request that barmitzvah groups at which the women sing (loudly) be evicted as well.

What is really going on is a part of the bigger debate about who defines Judaism in Israel, and who the kotel belongs to, anyway. A synagogue has every right to tell its worshipers that it has certain rules, which preclude praying in any particular way, and so the worshipers concerned who want to continue in a way which is contrary to the rules will have to go elsewhere. If the kotel is a private synagogue, this is totally legitimate.

But. But the kotel is not a private synagogue. It is a public space. One of the most beautiful things about the kotel is that everyone can attend, everyone can connect with God in their way. So if some people are allowed to evict other people because they do not agree with the way they are doing what they are doing, that is contrary to the whole beautiful essence of the kotel. Furthermore, it is not the job of any individual to appoint themselves judge, jury and executioner over the way in which a person chooses to connect with God.

Personally, although I see the advantages of this egalitarian section proposed by Natan Sharansky, I would be sorry to see it come into existence. Because right now, there is a section for men and a section for women. This separation enables all Jews to pray at the kotel plaza, at the same place under the same sky and same God, without divisions between one pray-er and the next. Once there would be an egalitarian section, then it would be 'us and them'. 'We' would look down on 'them', and 'they' would look down on 'us'. It would be a shame. I would rather keep us all together, with all our beautiful flaws and noise and distractions. 

Yom Ha'atzmaut and the Bull

Has anyone ever thought about the significance of yom ha'atzmaut falling in the month of Iyar? 

I notice now that from the beginning of the month, it's all already yom ha'atzmaut, kind of like how all of the month of Kislev is now the month of Chanukah. 

The month of Nissan is represented by the lamb - it stands for God's kindness to us, how He took us out of Egypt when we did not deserve it, gave us everything, and we followed Him like a lamb, with no defenses or merits of our own. 

Iyar, though, is the month of the bull. It's the month when, like the bull, we rebel and exert our power in a rebellious way. It is also the month when God withdraws His support from us, so that we can learn to walk by ourselves, supporting our own weight, like a mother letting go of her baby so he can learn to walk alone. Like the bull, in this month we can discover our own strength so that we can become ready to meet God as (almost) equals who stand on our own feet, a meeting which takes place in the month of Sivan, represented by the twins - Gemini, two individuals together. 

I can see where this timing could be taken to prove that the State of Israel/yom ha'atzmaut is a sign of our rebelliousness against God. And I can also see that it could be taken to mean that we were intended to discover the abilities and strengths which God gave us, to learn how to stand on our own feet before He meets us, like at Sinai, in a relationship which this time will never be broken.