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Lives Of Contention

Altona Germany

Rabbi Shlomo Bistritzky's hand trembles as he opens the lock of the ancient cemetery in Koenigstrasse Altona.

The gate creaks open, and in an instant, we feel as though we’ve been transported back 300 years, to the shining days of Altona, Hamburg, and Wandsbek — or as they’re known in Jewish history, the Kehillos AHW, from which sprouted forth hundreds of dayanim and rabbanim. The joint rabbinical court of the three communities wrote dozens of seforim and produced tens of thousands of halachic rulings — all lost in the oblivion of the Holocaust.

Autumn leaves cover the dusty headstones. Torah scholars of enduring stature. Even the blurred letters of the headstones conceal a glorious Torah world that produced such mighty forces as Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz and his spiritual rival, Rav Yaakov Emden. The lettering is blurred with age, difficult to decipher. If not for our guide, Hamburg shaliach Rabbi Bistritzky, for whom the paths of the cemetery are as familiar as the streets of his native Tzfas, we could not have located the gravesites. It’s been centuries since anyone was buried here, and virtually no one visits, either. The keys are in the hands of the Jewish community, and visitors rarely ask for them, although almost every day of the year marks the yahrtzeit of one of the great Torah leaders interred here.

We’re in the very heart of the “Land of Altona,” near Hamburg, an important focal point of Jewish history; great men who left their mark on our people lived here. Altona was both the name of the city and the German municipal district within the greater Hamburg metropolis. The city was founded in 1535 as a fishing village. In 1664, it received township status from the king of Denmark; in 1867, it became part of Prussia; and in 1938, it was incorporated, along with a number of other towns, into the city of Hamburg.

A Dispute for the Sake of Heaven

A Jewish community already existed in Altona in the mid-seventeenth century. In 1671, the Jews of Altona united with the Ashkenazic community of Hamburg, joined by the Wandsbek community in 1674. The communities succeeded in preserving their shared community framework throughout the next century. They kept their organizational independence, but they had a joint rabbi and rabbinical court that met in Altona. In 1811, after Napoleon conquered the region, he compelled the Jews to disband the union. From then on, Altona existed as its own community.

We walk among the cemetery headstones, many lying cracked and broken on the ground.

“Here you can find many vestiges of historical events that took place right here in Hamburg and in Altona,” Rabbi Bistritzky relates. “Some of these headstones have been restored and righted by students of Hamburg University. They were doing some peripheral research on the cemetery and on those interred here, and took the opportunity to restore the stones somewhat.”

For some reason, though, the cemetery hasn’t caught the attention of many Jewish visitors. Hamburg is an industrial city, below the tourist radar. Nevertheless, Rabbi Bistritzky has made a mission of bringing more people to this spot, where so much Jewish history is buried.

In the middle of the cemetery, side by side, with only four headstones separating them, are the gravesites of the renowned Torah giants Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz and Rav Yaakov Emden, who was the son of the Rav of Altona, the Chacham Tzvi. This is the greatest treat of all: to see these two famous tzaddikim, so well-known for their lifetime dispute l’sheim Shamayim, for the sake of Heaven, buried side by side.

How did this unusual placement occur? Before his passing, the members of the chevra kadisha saw Rav Yaakov greeting his departed relatives, exactly as it says in the holy seforim — that a person’s relatives come to greet him before he enters the World of Truth.

Shalom aleicha, my father, my teacher!” Rav Yaakov said, smiling. And then, to the astonishment of the chevra kadisha, they heard him say, “Shalom aleicha, Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz!” The person with whom he’d had the greatest conflict of his life, who had passed away twelve years earlier, had come to welcome him.

This was considered a great wonder, and the Noda b’Yehudah, Rav Yechezkel Landau, later rav of Prague, directed the chevra kadisha to seek out a gravesite near Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz, since their dispute had been solely l’sheim Shamayim.

Later, a Torah leader of the time related that he saw the two tzaddikim in a dream, learning Torah together in Gan Eden, but that their disciples who incited the quarrel were in Gehinnom.

We’re standing beside the headstones of these great tzaddikim, sensing the rustling of the wings of history. When will someone come to daven at their gravesites? When was the last time the sweet words of Tehillim were recited here beside them? When will Kaddish be said in this holy place? And why do so many of the tour organizers who travel to graves of tzaddikim skip this cemetery, among the most important in Europe?

Pilpulim Sweet as Honey

Rav Yaakov was born in Altona, Germany, on 15 Sivan 5458/1698. His father was Rav Tzvi Hirsch Ashkenazi, known as the Chacham Tzvi. In 1716, he married the granddaughter of Rav Naftali Katz (the “Smichas Chachamim”), and settled in Breslau. Rav Yaakov (or “YaBeTz” — the acronym for Yaakov Ben Tzvi) did not want to be paid for a rabbinic position, and so became a traveling jewelry salesman.

In 1728 he finally did accept the call of the Jewish community in Emden to fill the rabbinical position of that town, from where he took his surname. Due to his fiery, unbending character, and to his wish to be independent of others’ opinions, he resigned from his position four years later. He moved back to his birthplace, Altona, where he opened his own printing press, and refused to serve as a rav to his last day.

In his autobiography Megillas Sefer, he jokes that he used to recite the blessing, “Blessed are You, Who did not make me an aved [acronym for av beis din]” — a play on the words of the morning blessing: “Blessed are You, Who did not make me an eved [slave].”

His business dealings didn’t come at the expense of his occupation in Torah. He devoted most of his time to his Torah writings, which earned him a reputation as one of the leading Torah scholars of his generation. One of his major works is the famous siddur that he composed, which at the time aroused opposition because it contained some radical changes.

His other works included Lechem Shamayim, a commentary on the Mishnah; Tzitzim u’Prachim, on Kabbalah; Sheilas Yaabetz, halachic responsa; Mor u’Ketziah, parts I and II, commentaries and chiddushim on the Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim. His comments and chiddushim, recorded on the pages of his Gemara, were printed in the Vilna Shas. Rav Yaakov passed away in Altona, on 30 Nisan 5536/1776.

Just four headstones away is the gravesite of Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz. He was a posek, preacher, expounder, kabbalist, and rosh yeshivah. Born in Krakow, Poland, he studied in Polish yeshivos and in Prague, and was the rosh yeshivah of the Great Yeshivah of Prague. From 1750, he served as the rav of the tripartite community structure of Altona, Hamburg, and Wandsbek.

One of Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz’s most difficult tasks was interpreting the Gemara in a way that would not anger the Christians. There is a tradition about his many disputations with kings and priests, in which he offered many sharp, astute retorts, and there are many anecdotes about these debates. His Torah works are characterized by sharp pilpul. As a posek, decisor of Jewish law, Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz stuck very closely to the Shulchan Aruch, and his sefer Urim v’Tumim cites Tosafos at length.

Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz wrote dozens of seforim, on topics of halachah, commentary, aggadah, and Kabbalah, most notably Yaaros Dvash, Urim v’Tumim, and Karti u’Palti (the only one published during his lifetime).

“During his lifetime,” says Rabbi Shlomo Bistritzky, based on his extensive research regarding this cemetery, “there was an scourge of mothers dying in childbirth, along with their babies. Rav Yonasan would write kameyos [written amulets] for women about to give birth, that they not die in childbirth.” Taking us through the cemetery, he points out to us gravestones that are inscribed with the words “mother and newborn child.” These graves are witnesses to that outbreak which, according to testimony, did indeed stop in the wake of the kameyos that were written.

It was these amulets that helped fuel the rivalry between him and Rav Yaakov Emden — who made it his mission to ferret out secret supporters of the false messiah Shabetai Tzvi. Rav Yaakov Emden said that close examination of the amulets proved that Rav Yonasan was a secret Sabbatean. After years of attempted excommunications on both sides and political intervention by the King of Denmark, the heated conflict was eventually ended, but not before it had spread far and wide, keeping world Jewry at the time in a state of excitement and intrigue.

Illustrated Headstones

The Altona cemetery is unique in that its graves contain illustrated headstones. Kohanim have a picture of hands outstretched, blessing the Jewish People; the headstones of Leviim are adorned with carved cups of water to pour on the hands of the Kohanim. Indeed, there are also special drawings on the headstones of Torah leaders, and the descriptions — in the vernacular of those days, which today might be found amusing — are worthy of note as well:

“Here lies the rebbetzin, the talker,” reads one headstone, apparently about a woman who gave Torah lectures to women. And on the headstone of an elderly man who was full of wisdom are the words: “Here lies the full old man.”

Every stone here is history.

“Here’s the headstone of Rav Refael HaKohein, rav of Hamburg [5483/1723 – 5564/1803],” Rabbi Bistritzsky says.

The headstone reads:

“Here lies the famous rav, the gaon, the true chassid, light of Israel, glory of the generation, Rav Refael HaKohein, ztz”l, author of Toras Yekusiel; VeShav HaKohein; Sheilas HaKohanim Torah; Marpeh Lashon; Das Kedoshim, head of the beis din of the Three Communities AHW, for twenty-three years, and left, four and a half years before his passing, to go to the Holy Land, may it be rebuilt and filled speedily, in our days, and returned here because he couldn’t get there due to the wars. On the 24th of MarCheshvan, he completed his eighty-first year, and on the morrow, took sick with the illness that took his life on Erev Shabbos, 26th of Cheshvan. And heavy mourning and great honor were his, at his death, and he was buried and eulogized according to law, on Sunday, 28th of MarCheshvan, in the year of ‘a great man for the Jewish People and accepted by all his brothers.’$$$SEPARATE QUOTES$$$”

Rabbi Bistritzky fills in more details about this giant of Torah: “A whole history lies behind this headstone. If he had been buried in Eretz Yisrael, people would be visiting his gravesite and according him great honor. He was a tremendous talmid chacham, a student of the Shaagas Aryeh [Rav Aryeh Leib ben Asher Gunzberg, 1695-1785]. He was nineteen years old when he started to serve as rosh yeshivah of the Minsk yeshivah, and afterwards was rav of Pinsk.

“He first became acquainted with Berlin when he went there to have his sefer, Toras Yekusiel, published, because there were not yet Jewish publishing houses in Poland. Even then, he was asked to stay as rav and as the head of the AHW communities, but he returned to Poland. Only three years later, after the passings of both Rav Yaakov Emden and Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz, did Rav Rafael HaKohein return to Berlin. This time, he was appointed as rav and head of the beis din of the AHW kehillah.

“In those days, Rav Refael HaKohein attained a major ruling for the beis din of the AHW. King Frederik of Denmark actually passed a decree forbidding the Jews from presenting their cases before a state court and requiring that every incident be judged according to Torah law, before a community beis din, all in order to strengthen the Jewish communities.”

It seems that all great men are subject to controversy, and Rav Refael HaKohein’s famous sefer Toras Yekusiel, which presented new rulings, created a storm in some circles.

A number of years after the printing of Toras Yekusiel, a sefer called Mitzpeh Yekusiel — entirely comprised of very sharp, mocking, and disdainful criticisms and misrepresentations of Toras Yekusiel — was printed in Berlin. At first, no one paid any attention to Mitzpeh Yekusiel, but a few years later, it was reprinted in a second edition and sent to all the rabbanim and dayanim of Europe.

By then, Rav Refael HaKohein was rav and dayan of the AHW communities, and this time the dayanim of AHW decided to respond. They held a special conference in the beis din and decided to ban Mitzpeh Yekusiel and to excommunicate its author until he recanted. The author’s name did not appear anywhere in the sefer, however; he had hidden himself completely, out of fear of the agitated masses.

Genius That Is No More

Beside this headstone is that of another great Torah scholar of the eighteenth century, Rav Tzvi Hirsch Baschko, 1740-1807, an in-law of Rav Akiva Eiger, whose approbation the Noda B’Yehudah had sought for his sefer. Already in his youth, he was famed for his tremendous scholarship. He published the sefer of responsa Tiferes Tzv, on the Shulchan Aruch in two parts, the first on Orach Chaim and Yoreh Deiah; leading scholars sent him their questions.

Born in Zamosc, Poland, he was rabbi first of Tyszowce, then in 1771 of Brody, and from 1788 of Glogow, where he established an important yeshivah. Some years later, he was chosen to serve as dayan of the AHW communities, alongside Rav Refael HaKohein, who was very glad that such a gaon, esteemed by all the Torah leaders, was coming to Altona.

On his headstone is inscribed:

Ateres Tzvi Yisrael [The crown of glory of Israel]. Here lies our master, our teacher and our rav, rav of all those in exile, the great, famed, sharp-minded, well-versed chassid and kabbalist, holy man of G-d, the wise and exceeding humble, prince, judge, who spread Torah in Israel, who wrote many writings on Shas and poskim, Tanach, and responsa which are yet in manuscript, who enlightened the eyes of the exiled ones. None have arisen like him, and none will be. Rav Tzvi Hirsch of Zamosc, ztz”l. And before, he was head of the beis din of Brody and greater Glogow. Niftar on Monday, chai Elul 5567 [1807], in his 67th year.”

After reading the effusive epitaph, Rabbi Bistritzky asks me, “Do you see this next headstone? Notice the inscription. There are no adjectives of praise. It just says ‘The famous Rav Yechezkel , head of the beis din of the Three Communities, Altona, Hamburg, and Wandsbek.’ Do you know why? Because this great gaon wrote in his will not to put the word gaon on his headstone. This is the gaon Rav Yechezkel Katzenellenbogen, grandson of the author of Masaas Binyamin, and himself the author of the responsa Knesses Yechezkel [1749], who gave approbations to the seforim Bris Shalom and Ohri v’Yishi.

“He was characterized by his courageous rulings. He didn’t know the meaning of fear. During the years when he was rav, there was a difficult problem. Before he came to the city, an epidemic broke out in town. Those who died had to be buried outside the city limits. The chevra kadisha wanted to transfer the bodies back to the cemetery. Many rabbanim were opposed, for fear of dishonoring the dead. It was Rav Yechezkel who ruled that it was permitted to do so, and indeed the bodies were transferred here.

“Then, in 1815, the community supporters wanted to force the whole community to come specifically to the big shul, by prohibiting small shuls to be held in homes. It was Rav Yechezkel who ruled that this should not be done, that it was forbidden to force the public to come to the big shul and that they must be permitted to daven in small shuls if they prefer.

“In those years, the Shabbetai Tzvi movement was in full swing. It was Rav Yechezkel Katzenellenbogen who waged war against the Sabbateans and even published a long missive calling for the excommunication of everyone who had such leanings. Actually, he was the posek of the entire region. Among other things, he published a missive detailing all the laws of Kaddish, Mourner’s Kaddish, shaliach tzibbur, and conduct in shul. The community supporters displayed these rulings in a siddur that was placed before the shaliach tzibbur. Rav Yechezkel was eighty at his passing.”

Murder in Hamburg

The headstone of the kadosh Reb Avraham Metz has a chilling backdrop of murder. Reb Shlomo tells us the horrifying tale:

“Reb Avraham Metz was a businessman, a silver merchant who left his home and simply disappeared. For four years, no one knew anything of his whereabouts. Then another silver merchant, Reb Aharon, also left his home on a business deal and didn’t return. After some days, a woman decided to investigate what had become of him, conducting an investigation worthy of a top-notch detective. She discovered, to her horror, that Reb Aharon had been murdered by a gang from the underworld. When the murderer understood that he’d been discovered, he tried to escape by ship, but was stopped by the authorities before he could make his escape.

“City residents who were friends of the arrested man informed the Jews that if it turned out that their suspicions were groundless, they would meet a bitter end. The woman led the police to the place where she estimated the body of the murdered man ought to be found, and indeed it was found there, bearing clear signs of violence. The solving of the murder of Reb Aharon solved the murder of Reb Avraham Metz as well, who had bought silver items from the murderer’s father. The murderer of the two men was executed by the government of Hamburg.”

Two volumes of Chachmei AHW have been written, describing the lives of the rabbanim who lie buried here. And although these seforim are basics for any yeshivah library and their heroes are well-known, the cemetery remains empty and deserted — off the beaten tourist track, unfortunately, but definitely worth the effort.

PAYING THEIR RESPECTS

In the very heart of Hamburg’s Mercado Mall is a plaque that states that the spot on which the mall has been erected, there was once a cemetery, and that under the marble on which the parking lot was built, Jews were once buried. Their names are inscribed on the large memorial plaque, engraved with a Star of David. This is Ottensen cemetery, the second cemetery of Altona, founded in 1663, in which some 1,000 Jews, including great Torah scholars, were buried.

The cemetery didn’t get visitors, and an uninformed Jewish community sold it to real estate agents who wanted to build a mall on the spot. If not for the intervention of the Asra Kadisha, the entrepreneurs would also have built a huge underground parking lot that would have destroyed the burial place of the Jews who lay there. The company, together with the Hamburg municipality, invested no less than $8 billion to build the parking lot in a way that wouldn’t harm the burial place. The construction was supervised by Rav Yitzchak Kolitz, ztz”l, chief rabbi of Jerusalem, who came to Hamburg especially for that purpose.

“Eight billion dollars! Building an emergency room in the Ashkelon hospital, in a way that wouldn’t harm the burial place there, wouldn’t amount to even a tenth of that sum,” says Heinz Jaeckel, managing director of the Jewish community in Hamburg and the man who devoted his days and nights to a solution when the problem arose.

“Look at these plaques,” he says, after we’ve parked our car. “There was supposed to be an underground parking lot built here, but then it would have been built on the cemetery. Though most of those buried there had already been reinterred elsewhere, with all due honor, the company, Pirelli RE, was still concerned that the graves of some of the deceased, who perhaps hadn’t been transferred in their entirety, might be harmed. Therefore, the company preferred to forgo the underground parking lot. Instead, sealed plates were built over the cemetery, hermetically closing it off, and the entire parking place and mall were built on top. The change in plans cost the company a fortune, and the municipality had to pay for damages.

A similar arrangement was suggested to the Israeli prime minister’s office regarding the episode of Ashkelon’s Barzilai Hospital, whose proposed new emergency room was to be build atop discovered graves. The arrangement was rejected, although it would have cost less than ten percent of this mall.

Heinz Jaeckel tells the story: “The Ottensen cemetery, on which the company built the mall, was in use between 1663 and 1700. The government gave the Jews use of the land to build a cemetery. After the Holocaust, most German Jews left the country, but the small Jewish community that remained was left with a great deal of property. There was a feeling that German Jewry had no future and no one would think of staying permanently to lead a Jewish life. The cemetery area had been desecrated during World War II, and the municipality had built a bunker on it.

“After the war, the cemetery area was returned to the Jewish community. In 1952, the Jewish community sold the area to a real estate company, which built a mini-mall there. But first they honorably transferred the headstones, under the direction of the chevra kadisha, reinterring some bodies in a new location.

In 1995, however, the situation exploded. The company that had bought the land decided to tear down the mini-mall and to build a big, new mall in its place, with a gigantic underground parking lot that would solve the Hamburg parking problem.

“A group of Jewish Hamburg expatriates were galvanized. How could a mammoth mall be built on the place where there was a cemetery that might yet contain graves?!”

Members of the Asra Kadisha came to Hamburg to check the location of the ancient cemetery and the demolished mall on whose ruins the new mall was to be built. A large group of demonstrators arrived together with them, public opinion was aroused, and, along with it, the great public debate about the sanctity of the dead.

Rav Yitzchak Kolitz offered a halachic solution: the mall itself would be built, but the underground parking lot would not. Huge marble slabs, which Rav Kolitz personally supervised, were laid underneath the mall, separating the cemetery from the building. The solution was acceptable to all.

The company, of its own initiative, even built a monument in the center of the mall, memorializing the cemetery with a list of names of all those buried there.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 321)

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