A few years ago, during Sukkot, I had a conversation that deeply impacted me. After struggling to fit our family into the small sukkah on our Jerusalem terrace, a non-observant relative asked, “I thought women don’t have to do this—why are you inconveniencing yourself and your daughter?” At first taken aback, I eventually replied, “When something matters to you, you want to do it, even if it’s difficult.”
Although under rabbinic law women are exempt from the mitzvah of sukkah, I had never considered not sitting in it, just as many Jewish women perform religious acts they are exempt from. After all, exemption is not necessarily exclusion. Women may not be obligated to recite Shema, hear the shofar, or take the four species on Sukkot, but we are not barred from doing so. If one is religious, there is value and meaning in performing these acts, even if not required. And so, my daughter and I squeezed into the sukkah.
The role traditionally assigned to women in Jewish practice is far more complex than is commonly assumed.
And yet, the underlying point behind my relative’s question weighed on me. While many Jewish laws apply equally to both men and women, there are rituals and commandments that are incumbent on men alone. Moreover, some are regarded as distinctly masculine, to the exclusion of women. Various justifications for this disparity have been suggested, ranging from the belief that men and women have different roles in life to the idea that their spiritual needs are inherently distinct. Moreover, women experience these exemptions in various ways—some are deeply troubled by the disparity, while others accept or even embrace it.
It is, of course, impossible to know how Jewish women during the Talmudic era felt or thought about their diminished role in halakhah, as we lack texts authored by women. However, one truth remains clear: for the Talmudic sages who formulated these halakhot, the obligation to observe commandments is viewed as a privilege and a deeply meaningful responsibility. A clear expression of this is found in men’s daily recitation of the blessing thanking God for “not making me a woman” (Tosefta Berakhot, ed. Lieberman 6:18).
Classical rabbinic texts undeniably portray women as an “other,” with no active role in shaping halakhah or contributing to the discourses that define their place within Jewish law. However, the role traditionally assigned to women in Jewish practice is far more complex than is commonly assumed.
Our understanding of Jewish law has largely been shaped by the Babylonian Talmud (Bavli). However, halakhic texts from the Land of Israel—including the Mishna and other tannaitic works, the Talmud Yerushalmi, and some post-Talmudic writings—present a wider and sometimes more inclusive range of approaches to women’s obligations in halakhah. These texts reveal views and practices that contrast with the more narrow interpretations we commonly encounter, even in areas traditionally considered distinctly masculine.
Many cases where women are exempt from particular mitzvot reflect the view of the Bavli, even when the earlier tannaitic texts on which the Bavli is commenting offer multiple views without indicating a preference. The Yerushalmi, in turn, tends to favor tannaitic positions that obligate women, sometimes challenges positions that exempt them, or, at the very least, preserves the diversity of opinions within the tannaitic texts. The Bavli, however, consistently aligns with the positions that exempt women, indicating that these exemptions may be part of a larger, deliberate system.
One example is women’s exemption from the obligation to procreate (peru u-revu). The accepted halakhah among post-Talmudic authorities, which is still held today, is that this obligation applies solely to men.1 However, Mishna Yevamot 6:6 presents two opinions on who is included in this commandment: The first, anonymous, view (the tanna kamma) limits the requirement to men, while Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Beroka, from the second generation of Mishnaic sages, asserts that both men and women are equally obligated. The Tosefta paralleling this mishna, as well as the Yerushalmi’s discussion of it, both side with Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Beroka’s view and obligate women in this fundamental commandment (Tosefta Yevamot 8:4-5; Yerushalmi Yevamot 6:6). There is even evidence that this approach persisted in Byzantine Palestine after the Talmudic period.2
In contrast, the Bavli’s discussion of Mishna Yevamot 6:6 maintains that the halakhah follows the view of the tanna kamma, limiting the obligation to procreate to men (Bavli Yevamot 65b-66a). Moreover, throughout its extensive discussion, the Bavli highlights the Talmudic sages who followed the view exempting women from procreation and affirm that this is the accepted law. This view is likewise expressed throughout the Bavli.3
In other instances, early rabbinic sources (the Tannaim) include views that obligate women in certain commandments, but the Bavli modifies or omits them. For example, Tosefta Kiddushin 1:10 and Sifre Bamidbar 115 report a debate about whether women must wear tzitzit. The majority view says yes, while Rabbi Shimon disagrees, saying it’s a time-bound commandment and thus not required for women. The Yerushalmi preserves this debate and even includes support for the majority view from a later Talmudic sage, Rabbi Hela (thirdgeneration), obligating women in tzitzit, since they argue it is not time-bound. In the Bavli, however, only the opinion that exempts women is mentioned, with no sign that there was ever a disagreement (Bavli Kiddushin 33b–34a).
Understanding the Bavli’s Exemptions
No doubt, there are various ways to understand the Bavli’s positions that exempt women from commandments. In the case of the mitzvah of peru u-revu, perhaps it was designed to protect women’s lives, acknowledging the life-threatening risks of childbirth that women have historically faced.4 Alternatively, it could be seen as granting women greater reproductive freedom, allowing them to choose whether to have children. This latter possibility is brought to light in an anecdote recorded in the Bavli (Yevamot 65b–66a), which illustrates how this exemption allowed a woman to exercise some control over her reproductive choices. In this story, Yehudit, the wife of Rabbi Ḥiya, wishes to spare herself from yet another agonizing pregnancy, even though she knows that her husband wants another child. She therefore disguises herself and asks her husband whether women are obligated to procreate. When he responds in the negative, unaware that he is speaking to his wife, she drinks a sterilizing serum.
The Yerushalmi tends to favor tannaitic positions that obligate women in mitzvot.
As with many Talmudic anecdotes, the point of the story is unclear. Is this a justification for women’s exemption from the obligation to procreate, or is it a cautionary tale of what might happen if women have reproductive freedom? However, as David Daube aptly put it, the exemption of women from the obligation to procreate effectively positions them as “the instruments with the aid of which the men fulfilled their duty.”5 If men alone are assigned the obligation—an obligation that inherently requires women’s participation—then women, by default, become the means through which this obligation is fulfilled. As such, whatever potential positive outcomes the exemption may have offered—protection or autonomy—it still underscores the asymmetry in the Bavli’s position. On the other hand, when both men and women are formally obligated, as the texts from the Land of Israel dictate, they become independent agents, each fulfilling their own religious responsibilities.
In the case of tzitzit, the Babylonian Talmud’s unanimous position that women are exempt may reflect a general tendency to smooth over or minimize earlier tannaitic debates rather than anything inherent in the mitzvah of tzitzit. However, the Bavli could have adopted the initial opinion presented in the baraita, which obligates women. Instead, it aligns with the view that exempts women, thereby reinforcing the classification of tzitzit as time-bound and situating it within the broader framework of women’s exemption from time-bound positive commandments.6
Why the Bavli and the Yerushalmi Differ
We can only speculate about the possible factors that may have contributed to the differences between the Bavli’s and the Yerushalmi’s treatment of women in halakhah. It is possible that in each case there is a reason for the difference that relates to the particular mitzvah rather than a systemic view of women’s halakhic obligations. For instance, in the case of procreation, Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Beroka—followed by the Tosefta and Yerushalmi— obligates women based on a straightforward reading of the biblical command, “be fruitful and multiply (peru u-revu)” (Bereishit 1:28). Since the command is phrased in the plural, it addresses both Adam and Eve, and by extension, men and women. By contrast, the Bavli might prefer the anonymous view—that women are exempt from this mitzvah—since the anonymous view is generally regarded as the majority opinion of the Sages. Arguing against this approach, however, there are instances where the Bavli explicitly aligns with minority views that exempt women, disregarding the majority opinion entirely, as in the case of tzitzit.
Another way to explain these differences is by considering the broader legal tendencies of each Talmud. The Yerushalmi’s inclination to obligate women may reflect a more generally stringent approach to halakhah 7 that is unconnected with the implications for women. In contrast, the Bavli tends to organize legal discussions into clear categories and general principles. While this makes the law more systematic, it can also reshape earlier traditions, including those related to women’s obligations, in order to fit within these categories and principles. Debates preserved in sources like the Yerushalmi—such as whether women are obligated in tzitzit—are often streamlined or omitted in the Bavli. As a result, what was once a contested issue may appear as settled law, intentionally or not, limiting women’s roles in religious practice.
religious practice. The differences between the halakhot of the Land of Israel and the Bavli might also reflect the different cultural contexts in which they were developed—namely, GrecoRoman Palestine (in the case of the Land of Israel texts) and Sassanian Iran (in the case of the Bavli). The GrecoRoman world, although deeply patriarchal, granted Roman women significant legal rights and a certain level of legal status.8 For example, various Roman laws encouraged marriage and procreation for both men and women, which led to legislation that increased women’s property rights.9 By contrast, the situation in Sassanian Iran was more complex. Women were often regarded as property, ranked alongside slaves and minors, with limited legal capacity.10 Indeed, a married woman could be handed over by her husband, without her consent, to a childless man so that she could bear a child for him, after which she would return to her husband.11 These different cultural environments may have contributed in shaping how the Bavli and the Yerushalmi approached women’s role in procreation.
Bavli’s exemption of women from tzitzit seems contrary to Sassanian practice. Zoroastrian law required both men and women to wear a similar garment called the kushti, which is a ritual cord, braided to form three tassels at its end and tied around the waist over a white undershirt. One might perhaps have expected this practice to have influenced the Bavli to include women in the obligation of tzitzit. Instead, the Bavli affirms their exemption. This divergence demonstrates that the extent to which cultural contexts help explain the development of halakhic texts is complex, and cannot always be easily determined.
While the reasons for the disparities between the Bavli and Yerushalmi’s treatment of women can be understood through various lenses, it is likely that no single explanation accounts for all cases. The causes could range from local factors to broader cultural tendencies, but these remain speculative. What we can say definitively is that women are more often exempt from obligations in the Bavli than in the Yerushalmi. What is more, the fact of being obligated holds significance in all of these rabbinic texts, since the requirement to observe mitzvot is regarded as a privilege. As a result, the existence of a view in rabbinic texts from the Land of Israel that obligates women in more commandments, in contrast to the more frequent exemptions found in the Bavli—and hence the accepted halakhah—holds considerable importance. This view not only introduces new possibilities, but also carries implications for rethinking the status of women in Judaism.
For me, and for many other observant women, the difference between what I am technically “obligated” to do and what I choose to do in practice is something I don’t often reflect on. I have never considered not sitting in the sukkah, not reciting Shema, or not performing a number of other mitzvot, even if I’m not technically commanded to do so. But this has often led to a kind of cognitive dissonance, where I disregard the weight that the framers of halakhah placed on the idea of not being obligated. The texts from the Land of Israel, however, suggest that the disparity between what is considered obligatory for men and women might not be as great, or as inevitable, as it is often presented.