In his latest book, Dr. Marc Shapiro continues his penchant for exploring Orthodoxy from differing—and, at times, controversial—perspectives. In this volume, he focuses on lying and truth-telling as they have played out in the tradition. His scholarly erudition and engaging prose style make this book a delight to read for both scholars and novices.
Dr. Shapiro’s book can be divided into two parts. The first section is a comprehensive, and sometimes shocking, history of the ways in which, from the very beginning—at least since the time of Abraham—truth could be stretched, tweaked, and sometimes dispensed with. This begins with the account of God repeating to Abraham Sarah’s statement that she and her husband are too old to bear children, but leaving out the part about him. There is the “little white lie” of the brothers saying to Joseph that Jacob asked him to forgive them—for which there is no evidence.
Within the rabbinic tradition, we find many instances of changing or censoring texts, including a number of cases related to women’s issues. For example, a halakhic opinion in the Tosefta is attributed to Beruriah, but when repeated in the Mishnah, Beruriah’s name is omitted. Similarly, where the Tosefta deals with cases of women studying Torah and wearing tefillin, these passages are altered in the Babylonian Talmud. Much later, a responsum of Rabbi Joseph Hayim of Baghdad (1832–1909) justifying the practice of married women not covering their hair is deleted when the Arabic version was translated into Hebrew. Dr. Shapiro brings passages related to consumption of nonJewish wine, the time of starting Shabbat, and the eating of kitniyot, where the lenient opinions are generally the ones censored.
This distortion occurs in all areas of Jewish tradition, says Dr. Shapiro, whether halakhic or hashkafic. The purpose in general seems to be to present a simplified narrative of tradition, with a minimum of controversy or disagreement.
Of interest to this reviewer is how individuals generally considered gedolim (major figures) have been treated—in particular, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, Rav Abraham Isaac Kook, and Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik. In each of these cases, the complexity of the gadol’s personality has been overlooked, and significant elements of his thought wiped out.
For example, Rabbi Hirsch, a pillar of German Orthodoxy, always posed a problem to the yeshivish world of Eastern Europe. Even though he has been accepted as a gadol, enshrined in an Artscroll biography, certain aspects of his thought were considered unacceptable. His harsh criticism of Maimonides was deleted from a translation of The Nineteen Letters, and his critique of mysticism and critical comments about Eastern European Jewry were likewise omitted. A passage of his writings on Jewish education eliminated mention of “Torah im derekh eretz,” one of his central values. Rabbi Hirsch is allowed to enter the pantheon, but only after being purged of “heresy.”
Similarly, Rav Kook was regarded by some as the gadol hador, but his positive attitude toward secular Zionism created cognitive dissonance in the hareidi world. Here, the strategy was to marginalize him by eliminating his haskamot from hareidi works and bringing quotations from his works without attribution. Thus, instead of censoring his writing, his name is written out of the hareidi world. Somewhat the same approach has been taken visá-vis Rav J. B. Soloveitchik, whose image was cropped out of a photo of himself and Rabbi Moshe Feinstein at a Chinuch Atzmai dinner.
On the matter of altering photos, Shapiro brings a multitude of examples: Head coverings appear on previously bare heads. Women’s photos are retouched to render them “kosher” and modest.
But what about truth? Here is where the second section of the book comes in. In the last chapter, aptly titled “Is the Truth Really That Important?,” Dr. Shapiro explains the rationale for all this deception. There are many statements in the Torah and rabbinic literature attesting to the importance of truth: “Mi-d’var sheker tirhak.” (“From lies, distance yourself.”) “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord.” However, the rabbis are not Kantians. Everything depends on context. Rules are black-and-white, but life is gray. Historical truth is not particularly important. Falsification for a greater good can be countenanced.
Both Rambam in the Guide for the Perplexed and Plato in the Republic argue for the usefulness of “noble lies”— lying for a greater good. Rabbi Elijah Dessler, in an essay titled “What Is Truth and What Is Falsehood?,” argues for a utilitarian approach to truth. Truth is not factual truth, but that which leads to a good result. What helps people lead people to do God’s will, even if factually inaccurate, is regarded as true. Many fabrications and revisions are seen as serving a higher good—the preservation and protection of the hareidi Torah culture. If this requires rewriting history, so be it. There are sources to support such a view. We are not talking about selfish individuals purposefully lying, but people struggling to protect something precious.
We “moderns” tend to see the downside of this trend. We see it as a diminution of the varieties of Jewish tradition and a denial of reality. In fact, one application of our approach is to find precedents for our views in the minority opinions of previous eras. However, for the traditionalist, variety is not necessarily a good thing; conformity and consistency are more important.
There is danger, however, in our reading this book in a self-serving way. It would be too easy to distance ourselves from the hareidim and see them as primitive compared to ourselves. Not so fast! The hareidim are defending their cultural suppositions. Are we so free of our own? Do we not sometimes ignore data that do not fit our assumptions?