Hasidic Judaism

Rabbi Yisroel Hopsztajn, one of the greatest promulgators of Hasidism in Poland, blessing acolytes. Circa 1800.

Hasidic Judaism, or Hasidism, (Hebrew: חסידות, hasidut, Ashkenazic pronunciation: [χaˈsidus]; originally, "piety") is a popular mystical movement within Judaism. Hasidic teachings emphasize the need to cleave and be one with God at all times, the divine immanence suffusing the universe, the devotional aspect of religious practice and the spiritual dimension of corporeality and mundane acts. It draws heavily on Lurianic Kabbalah, and to an extent is a popularization of it. Hasidim, the adherents of the movement, are organized in independent sects, each headed by its own leader, known as Rebbe. Obedience and submission to the Rebbe are a key tenet of Hasidism, as he is considered a spiritual authority with whom the follower must bond to gain closeness to God.

The movement arose in contemporary Western Ukraine during the 18th Century, and spread rapidly through Eastern Europe, becoming dominant among its Jews by the 19th. Israel Ben Eliezer, the "Baal Shem Tov", is considered its founding father, and his disciples developed and disseminated it, eventually forming many loosely-related "courts" or dynasties. These share basic convictions, but operate apart and often possess unique traits and customs. Contemporary Hasidism is a sub-group within Haredi Judaism, and is noted for its religious conservatism and relative social seclusion.

Hasidic philosophy

Distinctions

The lengthy history of Hasidism, the numerous schools of thought therein, and particularly its use of the traditional medium of homiletic literature and sermons – comprising numerous references to earlier sources in the Pentateuch, Talmud and exegesis as a means to grounding oneself in tradition – as the almost sole channel to convey its ideas, all made the isolation of a common doctrine highly challenging to researchers. As noted by Joseph Dan, "Every attempt to present such a body of ideas has failed." Even motifs presented by scholars in the past as unique Hasidic contributions were later revealed to have been common among both their predecessors and opponents, and most others are widely extant outside the movement – playing, Dan added, "a prominent role in modern non-Hasidic and anti-Hasidic writings as well."[1] The difficulty of separating the movement's philosophy from that of its main inspiration, Lurianic Kabbalah, and determining what was novel and what merely a recapitulation, also baffled historians. Some, like Louis Jacobs, regarded the early masters as innovators who introduced "much that was new if only by emphasis";[2] others, primarily Mendel Piekarz, argued to the contrary that but a little was not found in much earlier tracts, and the movement's originality lay in the manner it popularized these teachings to become the ideology of a well-organized sect.[3]

Among the traits particularly associated with Hasidism in popular understanding which are in fact widespread, is the importance of joy and happiness at worship and religious life – though the sect did reinforce this with a stress on physical actions like dance, linked with the concept of "Worship from Corporeality" which are derived from its teachings on God's immanence. Another example is the value placed on the simple, ordinary Jew in supposed contradiction with the favouring of elitist scholars beforehand; such ideas are common in ethical works far preceding Hasidism. The movement did for a few decades challenge the rabbinic establishment, which relied on the authority of Torah acumen, but affirmed the centrality of study very soon. Concurrently, the image of its opponents as dreary intellectuals who lacked spiritual fervour and opposed mysticism is likewise unfounded. Joseph Dan ascribed this perceptions to so-called "Neo-Hasidic" writers and thinkers, like Martin Buber. In their attempt to build new models of spirituality for modern Jews, they propagated a romantic, sentimental image of the movement. The "Neo-Hasidic" interpretation was very popular, even "gained the patina of being an authoritative description of Hasidism", but had a tenuous connection with actual Hasidism.[1]

Immanence

The most fundamental theme underlying all Hasidic theory is the immanence of God in the universe, often expressed in a phrase from Tikunei haZohar, Leit Atar panuy mi-néya (Aramaic: "no site is devoid of it"). Derived from Lurianic discourse but greatly expanded in the Hasidic one, this panentheistic concept implies that literally all of creation is suffused with divinity. In the beginning, God had to contract (Tzimtzum) His omnipresence or infinity, the Ein Sof. Thus a Vacant Void (Khalal panui) was created, bereft from obvious divine presence and therefore able to entertain free will, contradictions and other phenomena separate from God Himself, which would have been impossible within His original, perfect existence. Yet, the very reality of the world is entirely dependent on the divine origin. Matter would have been null and void without the true, spiritual essence it possesses. Just the same, the infinite Ein Sof cannot manifest in the Vacant Void, and must limit itself in the guise of measurable corporeality that may be perceived.[4]

Thus, there is a dualism between the true aspect of everything and the physical side, false but ineluctable, with each evolving into the other: as God must compress and disguise Himself, so must humans and matter in general ascend and reunite with the omnipresence. Kabbalah stressed the importance of this dialectic, but mainly (though not exclusively) evoked it in cosmic terms, referring for example to the manner in which God progressively diminished Himself into the world through the various dimensions, or Sephirot. Hasidism applied it also to the most mundane details of human existence, but especially in the religious field. All Hasidic schools devoted a prominent place in their teaching, with differing accentuation, to the interchanging nature of of Ein, both infinite and imperceptible, becoming Yesh, "Existent" – and vice versa. They used the concept as a prism to gauge the world, and the needs of the spirit in particular. Rachel Elior noted: "reality lost its static nature and permanent value, now measured by a new standard, seeking to expose the Godly, boundless essence, manifest in its tangible, circumscribed opposite."[5]

One major derivative of this philosophy is the notion of devekut, "communion." As God was everywhere, connection with Him had to be pursued ceaselessly as well, in all times, places and occasions. Such an experience was in the reach of every person, who only had to negate his inferior impulses and grasp the truth of divine immanence, enabling him to unite with it and attain the state of perfect, selfless bliss. Hasidic masters, well versed in the teachings concerning communion, are supposed not only to gain it themselves but to guide their flock to it. Devekut was not a strictly defined experience; many varieties were described, from the utmost ecstasy of the learned leaders to the common man's more humble yet no less significant emotion during prayer.

Closely linked with the former is Bitul ha-Yesh, "Negation of the Existent", or of the "Corporeal". Hasidism teaches that while a superficial observance of the universe by the "eyes of the flesh" (Einei ha-Basar) purportedly reflects the reality of all things profane and worldly, a true devotee must transcend this illusory facade and realize that there is nothing but God. It is not only a matter of perception but very practical, for it entails also abandoning material concerns and cleaving only to the true, spiritual ones, oblivious to the surrounding false distractions of life. The practitioner's success in detaching from his sense of person, and conceive himself as Ein (in the double meaning of 'naught' and 'infinite'), is regarded as the highest state of elation in Hasidism. The true divine essence of man – the soul – may then ascend and return to the upper realm, where it does not possess an existence independent from God. This ideal is termed Hitpashtut ha-Gashmi'yut, "the expansion (or removal) of corporeality." It is the dialectic opposite of God's contraction into the world.[6]

To be enlightened and capable of Bitul ha-Yesh, pursuing the pure spiritual aims and defying the primitive impulses of the body, one must overcome his inferior "Bestial Soul", connected with the Eyes of the Flesh, and tap into his "Divine Soul" (Nefesh Elohit) which craves communion by means of constant contemplation, Hitbonenot, on the hidden Godly dimension of all that exists. Then he could understand his surroundings with the "Eyes of the Intellect". The ideal adherent was intended to develop equanimity, or Hishtavut in Hasidic parlance, toward all matters worldly, not ignoring them but understanding their superficiality.

Hasidic masters exhorted their followers to "negate themselves", paying as little heed as they could for worldly concerns, and thus to clear the way for this transformation. The struggle and doubt of being torn between the belief in God's immanence and the very real sensual experience of the indifferent world is a key theme in the movement's literature. Many tracts and writings have been devoted to the subject, acknowledging that the "callous and rude" flesh hinders one from holding fast to the ideal, and that this shortcomings are extremely hard to overcome even in the purely intellectual level, a fortiori in mundane life. One of the more extreme Hasidic thinkers, Nachman of Breslov, stressed the paradox entailed in grasping the Ein-Yesh dialectic and all its derivatives, declaring that logical thinking would be futile; the rationalist Chabad school, on the other end, defined it in intellectual terms.[7]

Another implication of this dualism is the notion of "Worship through Corporeality", Avodah be-Gashmi'yut. As the Ein Sof metamorphosed into substance, so may it in turn be raised back to its higher state; likewise, since the machinations in the higher Sephirot exert their influence on this world, even the most mundane action may, if performed correctly and with understanding, achieve the reverse effect. According to Lurianic doctrine, The netherworld was suffused with divine sparks, concealed within "husks", Qliphoth. The glints had to be recovered and elevated to their proper place in the cosmos. "Materiality itself could be embraced and consecrated", noted Glenn Dynner, and Hasidism taught that by common acts like dancing or eating, performed with intention, the sparks could be extricated and set free. Avodah be-Gashmi'yut had a clear, if not implicit, antinomian edge, possibly equating sacred rituals mandated by Judaism with everyday activities. While at some occasions the movement did appear to step mildly at that direction – for example, in its early days prayer and preparation for it consumed so much time that they were blamed of neglecting sufficient Torah study – Hasidic masters proved highly conservative. Unlike in other, more radical sects influenced by kabbalistic ideas, like the Sabbateans, Worship through Corporeality was largely limited to the elite and carefully restrained. The common adherents were taught they may engage it only mildly, through small deeds like earning money to support their leaders.

The complementary opposite of corporeal worship, or the elation of the finite into infinite, is the concept of Hamshacha, "drawing down" or "absorbing", and specifically Hamschat ha-Shefa, "absorption of effluence." During spiritual ascension, one could siphon the power animating the higher dimensions down into the material world, where it would manifest as benevolent influence of all kinds. These included spiritual enlightenment, zest in worship and other high-minded aims, but also the more prosaic health and healing, deliverance from various troubles and simple economic prosperity. Thus, a very tangible and alluring motivation to attract followers emerged. Both corporeal worship and absorption allowed the masses to access with mundane actions a religious experience once deemed esoteric.[8]

One more reflection of the Ein-Yesh dialectic is pronounced in the transformation of evil to goodness and the relations between these two poles and other, similar ones – including various traits and emotions of the human psyche, like pride and humility, purity and profanity, et cetera. Hasidic thinkers argued that in order to redeem the sparks hidden, one had to associate not merely with the corporeal but with sin and evil. One example is the elevation of impure thoughts during prayer, transforming them to noble ones rather than repressing them, advocated mainly in the early days of the sect, or "breaking" oneself's character by directly confronting profane inclinations. This aspect, once more, had sharp antinomian implications was and used by the Sabbateans to justify excessive sinning. It was mostly toned down in late Hasidism, and even before that leaders were careful to stress that it was not exercised in the physical sense but in the contemplative, spiritual one. This kabbalistic notion, even more so than others employed by the Hasidim, was not unique to the movement and appeared frequently in other Jewish groups.[9]

Righteous One

While its mystical and ethical teachings are not easily sharply distinguished from those of other Jewish currents, the defining doctrine of Hasidism is that of the saintly leader, serving both as an ideal concept and an institutional figure around whom followers are organized. In the movement's sacral literature, this person is referred to as the Tzaddiq, the Righteous One — often also known by the general honorific Admor (acronym of Hebrew for "our master, teacher and Rabbi"), granted to rabbis in general, or colloquially as Rebbe. The idea that, in every generation, there are righteous persons through whom the divine effluence is drawn to the material world is rooted in the kabbalistic thought, which also claims that one of them is supreme, the reincarnation of Moses. Hasidism elaborated the notion of the Tzaddiq into the basis of its entire system – so much that the very term gained an independent meaning within it, apart from the original which denoted God-fearing, highly observant people. This transition paralleled that of the word Hasid, traditionally "pious", which became synonymous with "adherent" (of a particular Tzaddiq), and entered Modern Hebrew as such.[10]

When the sect began to attract following and expanded from a small circle of learned disciples to a mass movement, it became evident that its complex philosophy could be imparted only partially to the new rank and file. As even intellectuals struggled with the sublime dialectics of infinity and corporeality, there was little hope to have the common folk truly internalize these, not as mere abstractions to pay lip service to. Rachel Elior quoted a letter composed either by Shneur Zalman of Liadi or his acolyte Aharon HaLevi of Strashelye, desperately stating: "the very fundament of worship is to detach oneself from the human understanding of the senses, and conceive the truth... Yet what may I do, as I cannot demonstrate to you the nature of infinity... And indeed you are accustomed only to lowly perception, which you can apprehend with your material senses."[11]

Facing this challenge, ideologues then and much later offered philosophical reasoning and exhortations to have faith. But the true answer, which marked their rise as a distinct sect, was the concept of the Tzaddiq. A Hasidic master was to serve as a living, tangible embodiment of the recondite teachings which many could not come to terms or even begin to comprehend. The Righteous himself was able to transcend matter and gain Devekut, spiritual communion, himself; as the vast majority of his flock could not, they were to cleave to him instead, acquiring some semblance of Devekut vicariously. His commanding and often — especially in the early generations — charismatic presence was to reassure the faithful and demonstrate the truth in Hasidic philosophy by countering doubts and despair. But more than spiritual welfare was concerned: since he could ascend to the higher realms, the leader was able to harvest effluence and bring it down upon his adherents, providing them with what they believed to be very material benefits. "The crystallization of that theurgical phase", noted Glenn Dynner, "marked Hasidism's evolution into a full-fledged social movement."

In Hasidic discourse, the willingness of the leader to sacrifice the ecstasy and fulfillment of unity in God was deemed a heavy sacrifice undertook for the benefit of the congregation. His followers were to sustain and especially to obey him, as he possessed superior knowledge and insight gained through communion. The "descent of the Tzaddiq" into the matters of the world was depicted as one with the need to save the sinners and redeem the sparks concealed in the most lowly places. Such a link between the functions of the Righteous as communal leader and spiritual guide legitimized the political power he wielded. It also prevented a retreat of Hasidic masters into hermitism and passivity, as most mystics before them did. Their worldly authority was perceived as part of their long-term religious mission to elevate the corporeal world back into divine infinity.[12]

Hasidic practice and culture

Liturgy and prayer

Most Hasidim pray according to one of the variations of the nusach known as Nusach Sefard, a blend of Ashkenazi and Sephardi liturgies, based on the innovations of Rabbi Isaac Luria (also known as the Arizal). However, many Hasidic dynasties have their own specific adaptation of Nusach Sefard; some, such as the versions of the Belzer, Bobover and Dushinsky Hasidim, are closer to Nusach Ashkenaz, while others, such as the Munkacz version, are closer to Nusach Sefarad of the Arizal. Hasidic Nusach is a very complicated study. Many Hasidic groups believe that their siddur reflects the wording and mystical intentions of the Arizal. Chabad-Lubavitch has a distinctive variant known as Nusach Ari of the Baal HaTanya. Other Hasidic rabbis from many other Hasidic camps have compiled authoritative "Nusach Ari" siddurim. One should not confuse the contents of the Lubavitcher siddur with the historical study of the Arizal's actual nusach.

The Baal Shem introduced two innovations to the Friday services: the recitation of Psalm 107 before Mincha (the afternoon service), as a prelude to the Sabbath, one gives praise for the release of the soul from its weekday activities, and Psalm 23 just before the end of Maariv (evening service).

In regard to dialect, Hasidim pray in Ashkenazi Hebrew, a form of Hebrew with many distinct features; for instance, the vowel tsere is pronounced [ej] insead of [e] like Sephardi Hebrew, and the vowel kamatz is pronounced [ɔ], [o], or [u] instead of [a] like Sephardi Hebrew. This dialect has nothing to do with Hasidism in its origins, nor was it chosen deliberately; it just happens to be the dialect of the places from which most Hasidim originally came, such as Galicia and Ukraine. Thus, there are significant differences between the dialects used by Hasidim originating in different places, such as Poland, Belarus, Hungary, and Ukraine.

Hasidic prayer has a distinctive accompaniment of wordless melodies called nigunim that represent the overall mood of the prayer; in recent years this innovation has become increasingly popular in non-Hasidic communities as well. Hasidic prayer also has a reputation for taking a very long time (although some groups do pray quickly). Some hasidim will spend seven seconds of concentration on every single word of the prayer of Amidah.

Hasidim have a reputation for having a lot of kavana, mental concentration, during prayer. Overall, Hasidim regard prayer as one of the most paramount activities during the day. In fact, one of the most controversial innovations of Hasidic practice as practiced in several courts involves the near-abolition of the traditional specified times of day by which prayers must be conducted (zemanim), particularly shacharis (the morning prayer service); the preparations for prayer take precedence and may extend into the allotted time. The Kotsker Rebbe allegedly originated this practice, which is prevalent to this day in Chabad-Lubavitch. It is controversial in many other Hasidic courts, who place more emphasis on praying earlier and not eating before praying, according to the interpretation of Halacha (Jewish law) which is followed by the vast majority of other Hasidic and non-Hasidic Orthodox Jews.

Daily immersion

Main article: mikvah

Male Orthodox Jews customarily immerse in a mikvah (ritual pool of water) before major Jewish holidays (and particularly before Yom Kippur), in order to achieve spiritual cleanliness. Hasidim have extended this to a daily practice preceding morning prayers. Although daily immersion in a mikvah is no longer mandated by halacha, Hasidism places great emphasis on this practice, because the Arizal taught that each time one immerses in a mikvah he adds holiness to his soul. It is also taught by the Baal Shem Tov, that all his wisdom was given to him by God in merit of his immersions in the mikvah, and that no male should go three days without going to the mikvah. The Talmud records an enactment by Ezra that after a seminal emission one must immerse in a mikvah before studying Torah or praying; although this enactment was later repealed, Hasidim and some other Jews still follow it, at least for prayer, though the Code of Jewish Law rules that it is not mandatory.

Dress

Main articles: Bekishe, Gartel and Rekel
Hasidic family in Borough Park, Brooklyn. The man is wearing a shtreimel and either a bekishe or a rekel. The woman is wearing a wig called a sheitel as she cannot show her hair in public.

Within the Hasidic world, it is possible to distinguish different Hasidic groups by subtle differences in dress. Some details of their dress are shared by non-Hasidic Haredim. Much of Hasidic dress was historically the clothing of all Eastern-European Jews. From at least the sixteenth century, styles of Jewish men’s dress in Eastern Europe were influenced by those of the szlachta (Polish nobles). While the szlachta abandoned certain types of clothing for newer fashions, Hasidim have preserved some of those older styles to the present day.[13] Furthermore, Hasidim have attributed religious origins to specific Hasidic items of clothing.

The Tsarist edict of the mid-19th century banning Jewish clothing mentions the "Jewish kaftan" and the "Jewish hat" and, as a result of this edict, Hasidim modified their dress in the Russian Empire and generally hid their sidelocks. Modern Chabad Lubavitch wear the Prince Albert frock coat substitutes for the bekishe reflecting this change, while many Polish Hasidim do so by wearing a redesigned shtreimel sometimes known as a spodik.

Hasidic dress did change over the last hundred years, and became more European in response to the Emancipation Movement. Modern Hasidim tend to wear Hasidic dress as worn just prior to World War II. Numerous pictures of Hasidim in the mid-19th century show a far more Levantine outfit (i.e. a kaftan lacking lapels or buttons) that differs little from the classical oriental outfit consisting of the kaftan, white undershirt, sash, knee-breeches (halbe-hoyzn), white socks and slippers (shtibblat). This outfit allegedly had a Babylonian origin before its later adoption by Jews, Persians and lastly the Turks, who brought it to Europe. The Polish nobility adopted its 16th century outfit from the Turks, hence the similarity between the Hasidic outfit and Polish nobles' clothing. (Similarly, Hasidic dress has a vague connection with Shia Muslim clerical dress, the Shia clergy adopted this dress from the Persians.) One Hasidic belief (taught by the Klausenberger rebbe) holds that Jews originally invented this dress code and that the Babylonians adopted it from Jews during the Jewish exile in Babylon of the 6th century BCE. This belief is not widely held or even well known among Hasidim.

Hasidic men most commonly wear dark (black or navy) jackets and trousers and white shirts. They will usually also wear black shoes. On weekdays they wear a long, black, cloth jacket called a rekel and on Jewish Holy Days the bekishe zaydene kapote (Yiddish, lit. satin caftan), a similarly long, black jacket but of satin fabric traditionally silk. The preference for black comes from a decree made by community rabbis in the 18th century stipulating that black outer garments be worn on the Sabbath and Jewish Holy Days out of the home, as opposed to the shiny, colorful kaftans that were worn prior to that time. The rabbis feared that brightly colored clothes might arouse resentment among non-Jews thereby leading to violence. Indoors the colorful tish bekishe is still worn.

On the Sabbath the Hasidic Grand Rabbis (rebbes) traditionally wore a white bekishe rather than a black one. This practice has fallen into disuse except for a minority of rebbes, such as Toldos Aharon and Lelov, and by Hungarian rebbes such as Tosh and Satmar. Many rebbes wear a black silk bekishe that is trimmed with velvet (known as stro-kes or samet) and in those of Hungarian lineage a gold designed or other coloured, tish bekishe or khalat (especially during the tish or during the prayers that come right before or after the tish).

Some Hasidim wear a satin overcoat, known among Hungarian and Galitsyaner Hasidim as a rezhvolke, over the regular bekishe. A rebbe's rezhvolke might be trimmed with velvet. Some rebbes wear a fur-lined rezhvolke known as a tilep (Yiddish: טולעפ fur coat).

Dombrover Rebbe of Monsey with the Nadvorna Rebbe. Note the pelts (fur coat) worn by the rebbes.

Most Hasidim do not wear neckties (with the exception of some Russian Hasidim, such as those stemming from Ruzhin, Karlin, and Lubavitch).

These are some of the religious aspects claimed by Hasidim of their dress code. The connections are quite tenuous and the real reasons for the Hasidic dress code are historical and sociological and not theological.

Headwear

Main articles: Shtreimel, Spodik, Kolpik, Kashket and Fedora
Rabbi Moshe Leib Rabinovich, Munkacser Rebbe, wearing a kolpik

Hasidim customarily wear black hats during the weekdays, as do nearly all Haredim today. A variety of hats are worn depending on the sect. Hasidim wear a variety of fur headdresses on the Sabbath:

Other distinct clothing

Gerrer Hasidim wear hoyznzokn—long black socks that the trousers are tucked into. Some Hasidim from Eastern Galicia wear black socks with their breeches on the Sabbath, as opposed to white ones, particularly Belzer Hasidim.

Many Hungarian Hasidic and non-Hasidic laymen wear a suit jacket that lies somewhere between a rekel and a regular three-quarter double breasted suit called a "drei-fertl" (Yiddish for "three-quarter"). It is distinct from a regular three-quarter suit inasmuch as the right side covers the left, like a rekel.

Many Skverer hasidim wear knee-high leather boots (shtifl) with their breeches on the Sabbath. This manner of concealing the stockings was introduced as a compromise prior to a family wedding when one side had the tradition of wearing white stockings and the other did not. The Skverer Rebbe and his family wear such boots every day, and so do some rabbinical families affiliated with other Hasidic groups.

The Dorohoi Rebbe in his traditional rabbinical Sabbath garb

Hair

Main article: Payot

Following a Biblical commandment not to shave the sides of one's face, male members of most Hasidic groups wear long, uncut sidelocks called payot (Ashkenazi Hebrew peyos, Yiddish peyes). Some Hasidic men shave off the rest of their hair. Not every Hasidic group requires long peyos, and not all Jewish men with peyos are Hasidic, but all Hasidic groups discourage the shaving of one's beard. Most Hasidic boys receive their first haircuts ceremonially at the age of three years (only the Skverrer Hasidim do this at their boys' second birthday). Until then, Hasidic boys have long hair. Some non-Hasidic Orthodox (and even a few non-Orthodox) Jews have adopted this custom.

Tzitzis

Main article: Tzitzit

The white threads dangling at the waists of Hasidim and other Orthodox Jewish males except for the strings that many leave hanging out; many Hasidim, as well as some other Haredim, wear the tallis katan over their shirt.

Women

Hasidic women wear clothing adhering to the principles of modest dress in Jewish law. This includes long, conservative skirts and sleeves past the elbow as well as covered necklines. Also, the women wear stockings to cover their legs; in some Hasidic groups, such as Satmar or Toldot Aharon, the stockings must be opaque. In keeping with Jewish law, married women cover their hair (and it's become customary by a lot of Hasidic women to shave off all their hair) using either a sheitel (wig) or a tichel (headscarf) which is sometimes used to cover a shpitzel. In some Hasidic groups, such as Satmar, women may wear two headcoverings – a wig and a scarf or a wig and a hat.

Families

Hasidic men and women, as customary in Orthodox Judaism, usually meet through matchmakers in a process called a shidduch,, but marriages involve the mutual consent of the couple. Expectations exist that a bride and groom should be about the same age. Marriage age in Orthodox Judaism ranges from 18 to 25, with 18–21 range considered the norm among Hasidim. No custom encourages an older man marrying a young woman, but this is often considered the ideal nonetheless. Hasidic thought stresses the holiness of sex, and pious Jewish couples follow strict regulations in their sexual lives.

Hasidic Jews, like many other Orthodox Jews, typically produce large families; the average Hasidic family in the United States has 8 children.[14] This is followed out of a desire to fulfill the Biblical mandate to "be fruitful and multiply".[15]

Languages

Main article: Yiddish language

Most Hasidim speak the language of their countries of residence, but use Yiddish among themselves as a way of remaining distinct and preserving tradition. Thus children are still learning Yiddish today, and the language, despite predictions to the contrary, is not dead. Yiddish newspapers are still published, and Yiddish fiction is being written, primarily aimed at women. Even films in Yiddish are being produced within the Hasidic community. Some Hasidic groups, such as Satmar or Toldot Aharon, actively oppose the everyday use of Hebrew, which they consider a holy tongue. The use of Hebrew for anything other than prayer and study is, according to them, profane. Hence Yiddish is the vernacular and common tongue for many Hasidim around the world.

The Hasidic Tales

Sculpture of the Hasidic movement on the Knesset Menorah, shaped by the wide influence of its Tales on Jewish culture. Hasidic ecstatic prayer is shown as a candle surrounding the soul's wick, amidst Nature embodying the Shekhina divine presence

"The Hasidic Tales", as they are known en masse, are a collection of Hasidic stories and anecdotes collected from the late eighteenth century onward that deal with a variety of topics having to do with Hasid culture. Touching on issues such as proper worship of the Torah, the place of the Rebbes or Tzaddikimm in Hasid society, or the importance of certain virtues, The Hasid Tales have been studied as a supplement to conventional historical works. Some of the tales are short anecdotes uttered by one Rebbe to explain a point about a specific theological matter while others are conversation between either two Rebbes or a Rebbe and a loyal follower. Regardless of how they are formatted, the tales with the most longevity and influence all share a couple of traits in common besides an appreciation of spontaneous worship and joyous celebration. For one, they are terse and compact, never being terribly excessive in length. And secondly, they tend to carry a strong and obvious point, with little extra information.[16]

A great portion of these tales have to do with the Zaddikim, or leaders of the Hasidism movement. As the Baal Shem were the heart of Hasidic Jewish communities and shtetls, the tales written about them were a reflection of the admiration and love that they were held in.[17] Initially these tales, characterized by things like vivid metaphors, unbelievable occurrences, and fantastic holiness were about the Baal Shem Tov and his lessons but soon took on the characteristics of their time and place. Each set of Hasidic tales within a certain time period or about a certain Rebbe, is known to reflect what they focused on. Examples of dissenting opinions on issues may be in what is and is not acceptable to pray for, whether or not the common man can achieve complete oneness with God, or what it is to be wise. As the lineage of Baal Shem advanced through the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries from Baal Shem to disciple, so did the physical spread of Hassidism. And through this, legends and anecdotes about the Besht, along with common Hasidic sentiments, was able to spread from Poland to regions in like Ukraine and Lithuania.[17]

This is believed to have been because the Rebbes, who would use such tales and stories to inspire the Hasadim, were trying to convince the “simple man” of these ideas.[16] Some of the more influential Baal Shems embraced this form of simple teaching for multiple reasons. The Besht, for instance, praised teaching the simple man because his ability to have strong communion with God could, at times, be stronger than that of his disciples. The Maggid of Mezritch preached Tzimtum, or contraction, as a way to make stories simpler to follow and, if there was a blaring message at the end, easy to take to heart.[16] Regardless of the reasoning supported by the Rabbis, a clear template is set throughout the majority of the most circulated Hasidic Tales. It is also believed that because many of these tales were not written down until several years after their inception that keeping them brief made them easier to remember, both for the deliverer and the receiver. These tales have developed such a strong presence in Hasid culture that they are still referenced today.

Contemporary demographics

Some of the larger and more well-known contemporary Hasidic sects include Belz, Bobov, Breslov, Ger, Lubavitch (Chabad), Munkacs, Puppa, Sanz (Klausenburg), Satmar, Skver, Spinka and Vizhnitz. One of the main divisions among them is political: the right-wing, mainly identified with Satmar, are hostile to the State of Israel and refuse to participate in the elections there, receive state funding and the like. They are mainly affiliated with Edah HaChareidis and the Central Rabbinical Congress. The great majority belong to Agudas Israel, represented in Israel by the United Torah Judaism party. Its Council of Torah Sages now includes a dozen Rebbes. In the past there Religious Zionist Rebbes, mainly of the Ruzhin line, but there are virtually none today.

The two main Hasidic communities in the United States, where 180,000 Hasidic Jews live,[18] are located in New York City and Rockland County, New York.[19] In New York City, the neighborhoods include Borough Park, Williamsburg, and Crown Heights in the borough of Brooklyn. However, the most rapidly growing community of American Hasidic Jews is located in Rockland County and Orange County in the western Hudson Valley of New York State, including the communities of Monsey, Monroe, New Square, and Kiryas Joel. One of the largest American Hasidic communities in the world, with over 50,000 members, is in Lakewood, New Jersey, which was once a center of mainly Litvish and Yeshiva Orthodox Jews, as well as other areas of the U.S. state of New Jersey, including Teaneck, Englewood, Passaic, and Fair Lawn. Other American Hasidic communities also exist in Pikesville and Northwest Baltimore, Maryland; the Fairfax neighborhood of Los Angeles; the Sherman Park neighborhood of Milwaukee; and St. Louis Park, a Minneapolis suburb. The West Ridge community in Chicago has the largest Hasidic community in the Midwest.

A Canadian Hasidic population can be found in the Outremont borough of Montreal.

According to The New York Times, the high fertility rate of Orthodox Jews will eventually render them the dominant demographic force in New York Jewry.[20] A 2009 article published by the University of Florida stated that the growth of Hasidic Judaism may cause Jewish politics in the US to shift towards the political right.[21]

Chabad is a global Hasidic movement that is based in New York. It has 4,000 shluchim, emissaries, scattered across the globe.[22]

The largest Hasidic community is in Israel, located mainly in Jerusalem and its adjacent areas, such as Ramat Beit Shemesh and also the religious city of Bnei Brak. Smaller communities are scattered across Europe, most notably in and around Stamford Hill, north-east London.

The largest groups in Israel today are Ger, Chabad, Belz, Satmar, Breslov, Vizhnitz, Seret-Vizhnitz, Nadvorna, and Toldos Aharon. In the United States the largest are Satmar, Bobov, Ger, and Lubavitch all centered in Brooklyn, New York City, USA. Reb Aharon's Satmar camp is centered in Kiryas Joel, New York, while Reb Zalman is in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and Skver (New Square) in Rockland County, New York.

History

Background

In the late 17th Century, several social trends converged among the Jews of the southern periphery of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, especially in contemporary Western Ukraine, which enabled the emergence and flourishing of Hasidism.

The first and most prominent was the popularization of the mystical lore of Kabbalah. For several centuries an esoteric teaching practiced surreptitiously only by a narrow strata of the highly learned, a mass of cheap pamphlets printed by both Jewish and Christian publishers from the beginning of the century rapidly transformed into almost household knowledge. The kabbalistic inundation was a major influence behind the rise of the heretical Sabbatean movement, led by Sabbatai Zevi, who declared himself Messiah in 1665. The propagation of Kabbalah made the Jewish masses susceptible to hasidic ideas, themselves in essence a popularized version of the teaching – indeed, Hasidism actually emerged when its founders determined to openly practice it instead of remaining a secret circle of aesthetics as was the manner of almost all past kabbalists. The correlation between publicizing the lore and Sabbateanism did not escape the rabbinic elite, and caused vehement opposition to the new movement.

Another factor was the decline of the traditional authority structures. Jewish autonomy remained quite secured; later research debunked Simon Dubnow's claim that the Council of Four Lands' demise in 1746 was a culmination of a long process which destroyed judicial independence and paved the way for the hasidic rebbes to serve as leaders (another long-held explanation for the rise of Hasidism advocated by Rapahel Mahler, that the Khmelnytsky Uprising effected economic impoverishment and despair, was also refuted). However, the magnates and nobles held much sway over the nomination of both rabbis and communal elders, to such a degree that the masses often perceived them as mere lackeys of the land owners. Their ability to serve as legitimate arbiters in disputes – especially those concerning the regulation of leasehold rights over alcohol distillation and other monopolies in the estates – was severely diminished. The reduced prestige of the establishment, and the need for an alternative source of authority to pass judgement, left a vacuum which hasidic charismatic leaders eventually filled.

Historians discerned other influences. The formative age of Hasidism coincided with the rise of numerous religious revival movements across the world, including the First Great Awakening in New England, German Pietism and the Russian Old Believers who opposed the established church. They all rejected the existing order, decrying it as stale and overly hierarchic. They offered what they described as more spiritual, candid and simple substitutes. Gershon David Hundert noted the considerable similarity between the hasidic conception and this general background, rooting both in the growing importance attributed to the individual's consciousness and choices.[23]

Israel ben Eliezer

Main article: Baal Shem Tov
Israel ben Eliezer's autograph.

Israel ben Eliezer (circa 1690?–1760), known as the Baal Shem Tov ("Master of the Good Name", Acronym: "Besht"), is considered the founder of Hasidism. Born apparently south of the Prut, in the northern frontier of Moldavia, he earned a reputation as a Baal Shem, "Master of the Name" – common folk healers who employed mysticism, amulets and incantations at their trade. Little is known for certain on ben Eliezer: though no scholar, he was sufficiently learned to become notable in the communal hall of study and marry into the rabbinic elite, his wife being the divorced sister of a rabbi; in his later years he was wealthy and famous, as attested by contemporary chronicles. Apart from that, most is derived from hasidic hagiographic accounts. These claim that as a boy he was recognized by one "Rabbi Adam Baal Shem Tov" who entrusted him with great secrets of the Torah passed in his illustrious family for centuries; the Besht later spent a decade in the Carpathian Mountains as a hermit, where he was visited by the Biblical prophet Ahijah the Shilonite who taught him more. At the age of thirty-six he was granted heavenly permission to reveal himself as a great kabbalist and miracle worker.

By the 1740s, it is verified that he relocated to the town of Medzhybizh and became recognized and popular in all Podolia and beyond. It is well attested that he did emphasize several known kabbalistic concepts, formulating a teaching of his own to some degree. The Besht stressed the immanence of God and His presence in the material world, and that therefore physical acts such as eating have actual influence on the spiritual sphere and may serve to hasten the achievement of communion with the divine (devekut). He was known to pray ecstatically and with great intention, again in order to provide channels for the divine light to flow into the earthly realm. The Besht stressed the importance of joy and contentment in the worship of God, rather than the abstinence and self-mortification deemed essential to become a pious mystic, and of fervent and vigorous prayer as a means of spiritual elation instead of severe aestheticism. In that he laid the foundation for a popular movement, offering a far less rigorous course for the masses to gain a significant religious experience. And yet, he remained the guide of a small society of elitists, in the tradition of former kabbalists, and never led a large public as his successors did. While many later figures cited him as the inspiration behind the full-fledged hasidic doctrine, the Besht himself did not practice it in his lifetime.[24]

Consolidation

Israel ben Eliezer gathered a considerable following, drawing to himself disciples from far away. They were largely of elitist background, yet adopted the populist approach of their master. The most prominent was Rabbi Dov Ber the Maggid (preacher). He succeeded the former upon his death, though other important acolytes, mainly Jacob Joseph of Polonne, did not accept his leadership. Establishing himself in Mezhirichi, the Maggid turned to greatly elaborate the Besht's rudimentary ideas and institutionalize the nascent circle into an actual movement. Ben Eliezer and his acolytes used the very old and common epithet hasidim, "pious"; in the latter third of the 18th Century, a clear differentiation arose between that sense of the word and what was at first described "New Hasidism", propagated by the Maggid and his successors.[25]

Doctrine coalesced as Jacob Joseph, Dov Ber and the latter's disciple Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk composed the three magna opera of early Hasidism, respectively: the 1780 Toldot Ya'akov Yosef, the 1781 Maggid d'varav le-Ya'akov and the 1788 No'am Elimelekh. Other books were also published. Their new teaching had many aspects. The importance of devotion in prayer was stressed to such degree that many waited beyond the prescribed time to properly prepare; the Besht's recommendation to "elevate and sanctify" impure thoughts rather than simply repress them during the service was expanded by Dov Ber into an entire precept, depicting prayer as a mechanism to transform thoughts and feelings from a primal to a higher state in a manner parallel to the unfolding of the Sephirot. But the most important was the notion of the Tzaddiq – later designated by the general rabbinic honrific Admor (our master,teacher and rabbi) or by the colloquial rebbe – the Righteous One, the mystic who was able to elate and achieve communion with the divine but unlike kabbalists past, did not practice it in secret but as leader of the masses. He was able to bring down prosperity and guidance from the higher Sephirot, and the common people who could not attain such a state themselves would achieve it by "clinging" and obeying him. The Tzaddiq served as a bridge between the spiritual realm and the ordinary folk, as well as a simple, understandable embodiment of the esoteric teachings of the sect, which were still beyond the reach of most just as old-style Kabbalah before. The various hasidic Tzaddiqim, mainly the Maggid's disciples, spread across Eastern Europe with each gathering adherents among the people and learned acolytes who could be initiated as leaders. The Righteous' "courts" in which they resided, attended by their followers to receive blessing and council, became the institutional centers of Hasidism, serving as its branches and organizational core. Slowly, various rites emerged in the "courts", like the Sabbath Tisch or "table", in which the Righteous would hand out food scraps from their meals, considered blessed by the touch of ones imbued with godly Light during their mystical ascensions.[26]

From its original base in Podolia and Volhynia, the movement was rapidly disseminated during the Maggid's lifetime and after his 1772 death. Twenty or so of Dov Ber's prime disciples each brought it to a different region, and their own successors followed: Aharon of Karlin (I), Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk and Shneur Zalman of Liadi were the emissaries to the former Lithuania in the far north, while Menachem Nachum Twersky headed to Chernobyl in the east and Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev remained nearby. Elimelech of Lizhensk, his brother Zusha of Hanipol and Yisroel Hopsztajn established the sect in Poland proper. Vitebsk and Abraham Kalisker later led a small ascension to the Land of Israel, establishing a small hasidic presence in the Galilee.

The spread of Hasidism also incurred organized opposition. Rabbi Elijah of Vilnius, one the greatest authorities of the generation and a hasid and secret kabbalist of the old style, was deeply suspicious of their emphasis on mysticism rather than mundane Torah study, threat to established communal authority, resemblance to the Sabbatean movement and other details he considered infractions. In April 1772, He and the Vilnius community wardens launched a systematic campaign against the sect, placing an anathema upon them, banishing their leaders and sending letters denouncing the movement. Further excommunication followed in Brody and other cities. In 1781, during a second round of hostilities, the books of Jacob Joseph were burned in Vilnius. Another cause for strife emerged when the Hasidim adopted the Lurianic prayer rite, which they revised somewhat to Nusach Sefard; the first edition in Eastern Europe was printed in 1781 and received approbation from the anti-hasidic scholars of Brody, but the sect quickly embraced the Kabbalah-infused tome and popularized it, making it their symbol. Their rivals, named Misnagdim, "opponents" (a generic term which acquired an independent meaning as Hasidism grew stronger) soon accused them of abandoning the traditional Nusach Ashkenaz. In 1798, Opponents made accusations of espionage against Shneur Zalman of Liadi and he was imprisoned by the Russian government for two months. Excoriatory polemics were printed and anathemas declared in the entire region. But Elijah's death in 1797 denied the Misnagdim their powerful leader. In 1804 Alexander I of Russia allowed independent prayer groups to operate, the chief vessel through which the movement spread from town to town. The failure to eradicate Hasidism, which acquired a clear self-identity in the struggle and greatly expanded throughout it, convinced its adversaries to adopt a more passive method of resistance, as exemplified by Chaim of Volozhin. The growing conservatism of the new movement – which at some occasions drew close to Kabbalah-based antinomian phraseology, as did the Sabbateans, but never crossed the threshold and remained thoroughly observant – and the rise of common enemies slowly brought a rapprochement, and by the second half of the 19th century both sides basically considered each other legitimate.

The turn of the century saw several prominent new, fourth-generation tzaddiqim. Upon Elimelech's death in the now-partitioned Poland, his place in Habsburg Galicia was assumed by Menachem Mendel of Rimanov, who was deeply hostile to the modernization the Austrian rulers attempted to force on the traditional Jewish society (though this same process also allowed his sect to flourish, as communal authority was severely weakened). The rabbi of Rimanov hearkened the alliance the hasidim would form with the most conservative elements of the Jewish public. In Central Poland the new leader was Jacob Isaac Horowiz, the "Seer of Lublin", who was of a particularly populist bent and appealed to the common folk with miracle working and little strenuous spiritual demands. The Seer's senior acolyte, Jacob Isaac Rabinovitz the "Holy Jew" of Przysucha, gradually dismissed his mentor's approach as overly vulgar and adopted a more aesthetic and scholarly approach, virtually without theurgy to the masses. The Holy Jew's "Przysucha School" was continued by his successor Simcha Bunim and especially the reclusive, morose Menachem Mendel of Kotzk. The most controversial fourth-generation tzaddiq was the Podolia-based Nachman of Breslov, who denounced his peers for becoming too institutionalized, much like the old establishment their predecessors challenged decades before, and espoused an anti-rationalist, pessimistic spiritual teaching, very different from the prevalent stress on joy.

Routinization

Palace of the Ruzhin dynasty in Sadhora.

The opening of the 19th Century saw the Hasidic sect transformed. Once a rising force outside the establishment, the tzaddiqim now became an important and often dominant power in most of Eastern Europe. The slow process of encroachment, which mostly begun with forming an independent prayer quorum and culminated in the Righteous becoming an authority figure (either alongside or above the official rabbinate) for the entire community, overwhelmed many towns even in Misnagdic stronghold of Lithuania, far more so in Congress Poland and the vast majority in Podolia, Volhynia and Galicia. It began to make inroads into Bukovina, Bessarabia and the westernmost frontier of autochthonic pre-WWII Hasidism, in northeastern Hungary, where the Seer's disciple Moses Teitelbaum (I) was appointed in Ujhely. Less than three generations after the Besht's death, the sect grew to encompass hundreds of thousands by 1830. As a mass movement, a clear stratification emerged between the court's functionaries and permanent residents (yoshvim, "sitters"), the devoted followers who would often visit the Righteous on Sabbath, and the large public which prayed at Sefard Rite synagogues and was minimally affiliated.

All this was followed by a more conservative approach and power bickering among the Righteous. Since the Maggid's death, none could claim the overall leadership. Among the several dozens active, each ruled over his own turf, and local traditions and customs began to emerge in the various courts which developed their own identity. The high mystical tension typical of a new movement subsided, and was soon replaced by more hierarchical, orderly atmosphere. The most important aspect of the routinization Hasidism underwent was the adoption of dynasticism. The first to claim legitimacy by right of descent from the Besht was his grandson, Boruch of Medzhybizh, appointed 1782. He held a lavish court with Hershel of Ostropol as jester, and demanded the other Righteous acknowledge his supremacy. Upon the death of Menachem Nachum Twersky of Chernobyl, his son Mordechai Twersky succeeded him. The principle was conclusively affirmed in the great dispute after Liadi's demise in 1813: his senior acolyte Aharon HaLevi of Strashelye was defeated by his son, Dovber Schneuri, whose offspring retained the title for 181 years. by the 1860s, virtually all courts were dynastic. Rather than single tzaddiqim with followings of their own, each sect would command a base of rank-and-file hasidim attached not just to the individual leader but to the bloodline and the court's unique attributes. Israel Friedman of Ruzhyn insisted on royal splendour, resided in a palace and his six sons all inherited some of his followers. With the constraints of maintaining their gains replacing the dynamism of the past, the Righteous or "Rebbes"/"Admorim" also silently retreated from the overt, radical mysticism of their predecessors. While populist miracle working for the masses remained a key theme in many dynasties, a new type of "Rebbe-Rabbi" emerged, one who was both a completely traditional halakhic authority as well as a spiritualist. The tension with the Misnagdim subsided significantly.[27]

But it was an external threat, more than anything else, that mended relations. While traditional Jewish society remained well entrenched in backward Eastern Europe, reports of the rapid acculturation and religious laxity in the West troubled both camps. When the Haskalah, the Jewish Enlightenment, appeared in Galicia and Congress Poland in the 1810s, it was soon perceived as a dire threat. The maskilim themselves detested Hasidism as an anti-rationalist and barbaric phenomenon, as did Western Jews of all shades, including the most right-wing Orthodox such as Rabbi Azriel Hildesheimer.[28] In Galicia especially, hostility towards it defined the Haskalah to a large extent, from the staunchly observant Rabbi Zvi Hirsch Chajes and Joseph Perl to the radical anti-Talmudists like Osias Schorr. The Enlightened, who revived Hebrew grammar, often mocked their rivals' lack of eloquence in the language. While a considerable proportion of the Misnagdim were not adverse to at least some of their goals, the rebbes were unremittingly hostile.

The most distinguished Hasidic leader in Galicia in the era was Chaim Halberstam, who combined talmudic erudition and the status of a major decisor with his function as tzaddiq. He symbolized the new era, brokering peace between the small Hasidic sect in Hungary to its opponents. At that country, where modernization and assimilation were much more imminent than in the East, the local Righteous joined forces with those now termed Orthodox in relation to the rising liberals. Rabbi Moses Sofer of Pressburg, while no friend to Hasidism, tolerated it as he combated the forces who sought modernization of the Jews; a generation later, in the 1860s, the rebbes and the zealot ultra-Orthodox Hillel Lichtenstein allied closely.

Around the mid-19th Century, over a hundred dynastic courts related by marriage were the main religious power in the territory enclosed between Hungary, former Lithuania, Prussia and inner Russia, with considerable presence in the former two. In Central Poland, the pragmatist, rationalist Przysucha school thrived: Yitzchak Meir Alter founded the court of Ger in 1859, and in 1876 Jechiel Danziger established Alexander. In Galicia and Hungary, apart from Halberstam's House of Sanz, Tzvi Hirsh of Zidichov's descendants each pursued a mystical approach in the dynasties of Zidichov, Komarno and so forth. In 1817, Sholom Rokeach became the first Rebbe of Belz. At Bukovina, the Hager line of Kosov-Vizhnitz was the largest court.

The Haskalah was always a minor force, but the Jewish national movements which emerged in the 1880s, as well as Socialism, proved much more appealing to the young. Progressive strata condemned Hasidism as a primitive relic, strong but doomed to disappear as Eastern European Jewry underwent slow but steady secularization. The gravity of the situation was attested to by the foundation of Hasidic yeshivas (in the modern, boarding school-equivalent sense) to enculturate the young: the first was established at Nowy Wiśnicz by Rabbi Shlomo Halberstam (I) in 1881. These institutions were originally utilized by the Misnagdim to inoculate their youth from Hasidic influence, but now the latter faced a similar crisis. One of the most contentious issue in this respect was Zionism; the Ruzhin dynasties were quite favourably disposed toward it, while Hungarian and Galician courts reviled it.

Calamity and renaissance

Outside pressure was mounting in the early 20th Century. In 1912, many Hasidic leaders partook in the creation of the Agudas Israel party, a political instrument intended to safeguard what was now named Orthodox Judaism even in the relatively traditional East; the more hard-line dynasties, mainly Galician and Hungarian, opposed the Aguda as too lenient. Mass immigration to America, urbanization, World War I and the subsequent Russian Civil War uprooted the shtetls in which the local Jews lived for centuries and were the bedrock of Hasidism. In the new Soviet Union, civil equality first achieved and a harsh repression of religion caused a rapid secularization. Few remaining Hasidim, especially of Chabad, continued to practice underground for decades. In the new states of the Interbellum era the process was only somewhat slower. On the eve of World War II, strictly observant Jews were estimated to constitute no more than a third of the total Jewish population in Poland, the world's most Orthodox country.[29] While the Rebbes still had a vast base of support, it was aging and declining.

The Holocaust hit the Hasidim, easily identifiable and almost unable to disguise themselves among the larger populace due to cultural insularity, particularly hard. Hundreds of leaders perished with their flock, while the flight of many notable ones as their followers were being exterminated – especially Aharon Rokeach of Belz and Joel Teitelbaum of Satmar – elicited bitter recrimination. In the immediate postwar years, the entire movement seemed to tether on the precipice of oblivion. In Israel, the United States and Western Europe, the survivors' children were at best becoming Modern Orthodox. While a century earlier the Haskalah depicted it as a medieval, malicious power, now it was so weakened that the popular cultural image was sentimental and romantic, what Joseph Dan termed "Frumkinian Hasidism" for it began with the short stories of Michael Levi Rodkinson (Frumkin). Martin Buber was the major contributor to this trend, portraying the sect as a model of a healthy folk consciousness. "Frumkinian" style was very influential, later inspiring the so-called "Neo-Hasidism", and also utterly ahistorical.[30]

Yet the movement proved more resilient than expected. Talented and charismatic Hasidic masters emerged, who reinvigorated their following and drew new crowds. In New York, the Satmar Rebbe Joel Teitelbaum formulated a fiercely anti-Zionist Holocaust theology and founded an insular, self-sufficient community which attracted many immigrants from Greater Hungary; already by 1961, 40% of families were newcomers.[31] Yisrael Alter of Ger created robust institutions, fortified his court's standing in Agudas Israel and held tisch every week for 29 years. He halted the hemorrhage of his followers and retrieved many Litvaks (the contemporary, less adverse epithet for Misnagdim) and Religious Zionists whose parents were Gerrer Hasidim before the war. Chaim Meir Hager similarly similarly restored Vizhnitz. Moses Isaac Gewirtzman founded the new Pshevorsk (Hasidic dynasty) in Antwerp. The most explosive growth was experienced in Chabad-Lubavitch, whose head Menachem Mendel Schneerson adopted a modern (he and his disciples ceased wearing the customary Shtreimel) and outreach-centered orientation. At a time when most Orthodox and Hasidim in particular rejected proselytization, he turned his sect into a mechanism devoted almost solely to it, blurring the difference between actual Hasidim and loosely-affiliated supporters until researchers could scarcely define it as a regular Hasidic group. Another phenomenon was the revival of Breslov, which remained without an acting tzaddiq since the rebellious Rebbe Nachman's 1810 death. Its complex, existentialist philosophy drew many to it.

Exorbitant fertility rates, increasing tolerance and multiculturalism on behalf of surrounding society and the great wave of newcomers to Orthodox Judaism which began in the 1970s all cemented the movement's status as very much alive and thriving. The clearest indication for that, noted Joseph Dan, was the disappearance of the "Frumkinian" narrative which inspired much sympathy towards it from non-Orthodox Jews and others, as actual Hasidism returned to the fore.[30] In 2005, Prof. Jacques Gutwirth estimated there were 400,000 men, women and children adhering to Hasidic sects worldwide, and that figure was expected to grow due to high birth.[32] By that time, many of these were torn apart by schisms between Rebbes' sons vying for power, a common occurrence also in the 19th Century which reemerged as adherents' numbers recovered. Most notably, Satmar underwent a schism as the supporters of Aaron Teitelbaum and Zalman Teitelbaum both declared their leaders lawful heirs. Vizhnitz split after the firstborn Israel Hager won his father's favour anew in 2007, after twenty years during which his brother Menachem Mendel was presumed next in line. In Bobov a Rabbinic tribunal ordered one of the contesting groups to adopt the name Bobov-45. Similar divides created numerous other splinter factions.

See also

Footnotes

  1. 1 2 Joseph Dan, Hasidism: Teachings and Literature, The YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe
  2. Louis Jacobs, Basic Ideas of Hasidism, in: Hasidism, Encyclopedia Judaica, 2007. Volume 8, p. 408.
  3. Mendel Piekarz, Ben ideʼologyah li-metsiʼut, Bialik Institute (1994), OCLC 31267606. pp. 151-152; Dyner, Men of Silk, p. 27.
  4. Rachel Elior, יש ואין - דפוסי יסוד במחשבה החסידית, in: Masuʼot : meḥḳarim be-sifrut ha-ḳabalah ube-maḥshevet Yiśraʼel, Bialik Institute (1994), OCLC 221873939. pp. 53-54.
  5. Elior, p. 56.
  6. Elior, pp. 60-61.
  7. Elior, pp. 55, 62-63.
  8. Dynner, Men of Silk, pp. 32-33.
  9. The entire section is based on: Elior, יש ואין; Dan, Teachings, YIVO; Hasidism, Judaica, pp. 410-412.
  10. David Assaf, The Regal Way: The Life and Times of Rabbi Israel of Ruzhin, Stanford University Press (2002). pp. 101-104.
  11. Elior, p. 65.
  12. Elior, pp. 66-68; Dynner, pp. 20-21.
  13. Goldberg-Mulkiewicz, Olga. "Dress". The YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe. Retrieved Feb/20/14. Check date values in: |access-date= (help)
  14. "Jews and the Jewish Birthrate". Aish.com. Retrieved 2009-05-05.
  15. Citron, Aryeh. "Be Fruitful and Multiply – Parshat Bereishit – Parshah Halachah". Chabad.org. Retrieved 2011-09-16.
  16. 1 2 3 Schacter-Shalomi, Zalman, Wrapped in a Holy Flame (2003) San Francisco CA, Jossey-Bass, ISBN 0-7879-6573-1
  17. 1 2 Buber, Martin, Tales of the Hasidim: The Early Masters (1948) New York NY, Schocken Books ISBN 0-8052-0995-6
  18. "As Hasidic population grows, Jewish politics may shift right". University of Florida. Retrieved 21 December 2013.
  19. Robert Zeliger. "Culture Clash". Copyright © 2013 www.lohud.com. All rights reserved. Retrieved 2013-03-09.
  20. David Brooks (March 7, 2013). "The Orthodox Surge". The New York Times. Retrieved March 17, 2013.
  21. "As Hasidic population grows, Jewish politics may shift right." University of Florida. November 27, 2006. Retrieved on May 2, 2009.
  22. Wertheimer, Jack (June 16, 2014). "Why the Lubavitch Movement Thrives in the Absence of a Living Rebbe". JA Mag in Jewish World. Orthodox Union. Retrieved 30 September 2014.
  23. Glenn Dynner, Men of Silk: The Hasidic Conquest of Polish Jewish Society, Oxford University Press (2006). pp. 3-23.
  24. Moshe Rosman, Ba‘al Shem Tov, The YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe.
  25. Moshe Rosman, Founder of Hasidism: A Quest for the Historical Ba'al Shem Tov. University of California Press (1996). pp. 37-38.
  26. Dyner, pp. 34-39, 42.
  27. David Ellenson, Rabbi Esriel Hildesheimer and the Creation of a Modern Jewish Orthodoxy. University of Alabama Press, 1990. p. 44.
  28. Jaff Schatz, Jews and the Communist Movement in Interwar Poland, in: Dark Times, Dire Decisions : Jews and Communism. Oxford University Press (2005). p. 36.
  29. 1 2 Joseph Dan, The End of the Frumkinian Hasidism, Jerusalem Studies in Jewish Thought, Volume 15, pp. 261-274.
  30. Israel Rubin. Satmar: Two Generations of an Urban Island. P. Lang (1997). p. 42
  31. Jacques Gutwirth, The Rebirth of Hasidism: From 1945 to the Present Day, Odile Jacob, 2004. p. 139.

Further reading

  • Balog, Yeshayahu; Morgenstern, Matthias (2010). Hasidism: A Mystical Movement Within Eastern European Judaism. Mainz: Institute of European History. 
  • Berger, Joseph (2014). The Pious Ones: The World of Hasidim and Their Battle with America. New York: Harper Perennial. ISBN 978-0-06-212334-3 (print); ISBN 978-0-06-212335-0 (eBook)
  • Buber, Martin (July 23, 1991) [1947]. Tales of the Hasidim. translated by Olga Marx; foreword by Chaim Potok (Paperback: 2 volumes in 1 ed.). New York: Schocken Books. ISBN 0-8052-0995-6. LCCN 90052921. 
  • Dynner, Glenn (2006). Men of Silk: the Hasidic Conquest of Polish Jewish Society. New York: Oxford University Press. ISBN 0-19-517522-0. 
  • Finkel, Avraham Yaakov (October 1994). Contemporary sages: the great Chasidic masters of the twentieth century. Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson. ISBN 1-56821-155-4. LCCN 94003078. 
  • Rosman, Moshe (1996). Founder of Hasidism. Univ. of Calif. Press. ISBN 0-520-20191-4. 
  • Elior, Rachel. The Mystical Origins of Hasidism. 
  • Cecil Roth and Geoffrey Wigoder, ed. (1972). Hasidic Judaism. Encyclopaedia Judaica 7 (New York: Macmillan Company). LCCN 84214344. 

External links

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