His exacting standards weren’t always popular but no one could deny that Rav Abramsky restored the prestige of the London Beis Din. Through the efforts of askanim who had to arrange for a passport because the Russian authorities had stripped him of travel documents Rav Abramsky arrived in London in late 1931. For the next two years he served as rabbi of the Machzikei Hadas synagogue in east London where he delivered numerous shiurim throughout the week in addition to an advanced shiur at Yeshivah Etz Chaim.
Rejection and Acceptance
In early 1934 when Dayan Shmuel Yitzchak Hillman retired from his post as Chief Dayan of the London Bais Din Chief Rabbi Joseph Hertz sought to replace him with a preeminent halachic authority. Even the non-religious leaders of the United Synagogue were keen to select a figure acceptable to right-wing Orthodox Anglo-Jewry as the latter group had become increasingly vocal about the London Beis Din’s lax standards particularly regarding shechitah.
The United Synagogue first approached Rav Avigdor Schonfeld head of the right-wing Adas community but he rejected the offer. Other rabbanim also came under consideration but when Rav Abramsky emerged as a possible candidate all other options faded. Although he was far to the right of the centrist Rabbi Hertz and possibly the least likely to be able to communicate with his constituency due to the language barrier (he barely spoke English) Rav Abramsky had the greatest name recognition of all the nominees. Rav Menachem Gelley and Rav Ivan Binstock both currently dayanim on the Bais Din emphasize that the United Synagogue and Chief Rabbi Hertz were singularly impressed by Rav Abramsky’s credentials. “Rav Abramsky had an outstanding reputation,” explains Rav Gelley, “and it was considered a ‘catch’ to have someone of his stature on board.”
The United Synagogue made its official offer to Rav Abramsky in June 1934. Although initially amenable, Rav Abramsky grew wary of taking the position when a butcher, under the guise of asking about the kashrus of a chicken, furtively apprised him of the flagrant kashrus violations taking place under the beis din’s jurisdiction. Of greatest concern was the fact that for decades, the beis din had licensed butchers who openly sold meat that was not menukar (porged). This left the onus on the customer to request that the meat be menukar (as in shatnez testing). Many customers did not do so, either out of ignorance or because proper nikkur made the meat look unappealing. Many butchers felt no compunction selling meat without nikkur, and the chief rabbi and beis din had been unsuccessful in stopping the practice.
After hearing about these violations, Rav Abramsky demanded that if he were to become chief dayan, the beis din would forbid butcher shops they certified from selling hindquarter meat altogether, thus eliminating the need for nikkur. Rabbi Hertz countered that he would commit to certify only butchers who did nikkur. Rav Abramsky suspected that this commitment wouldn’t be enforced, so he rejected the job offer.
At this juncture, the United Synagogue approached Rav Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg, then the head of the Hildesheimer Seminary in Berlin, to fill the position. Although Rav Weinberg expressed interest in the position, the Hildesheimer Seminary exerted pressure on him to remain with them, and Rav Weinberg withdrew his candidacy.
In an unexpected turn of events, Rav Hertz returned to Rav Abramsky and repeated his offer: If he would accept the position of chief dayan, the beis din would certify butchers only if they committed to do nikkur on all hindquarter meat. Although he had initially rejected this proposal and insisted that he would only consider the position if no hindquarter meat would be sold, Rav Abramsky changed his mind and accepted the offer.
What caused this change of heart?
This mystery unraveled when I chanced upon a footnote in Rav Abramsky’s biography stating that in the period between the two offers, Rav Abramsky visited his father in Eastern Europe. In a United Synagogue protocol from October 28, 1934, one of the officials of the United Synagogue expressed the hope that Rav Abramsky would visit Rav Chaim Ozer Grodzensky in Vilna, and be advised to soften his approach to the offer from the London Beis Din. Rav Abramsky did indeed meet with Rav Chaim Ozer. What, precisely, did Rav Chaim Ozer advise him, and why?
That footnote in the biography did not supply any further details, but careful examination of a handwritten letter from Rav Chaim Ozer to Rav Abramsky that appears on a later page in the book provided an important clue to the latter’s change of heart.
Dated Rosh Chodesh Nissan (April 4) 1935, the letter reads, “If there is hope that the breaches will be fixed, especially in the matters of kashrus, my advice is that you accept the position.”
It seems clear that Rav Chaim Ozer influenced Rav Abramsky to be more flexible with regard to his demands, but there is an additional factor that may have swayed him. Rav Abramsky apparently realized that Rabbi Hertz’s second offer — despite the weakness of the terms — was, in a sense, a capitulation. At this point, Rabbi Hertz’s proposed ban on selling meat without nikkur could not be an empty offer.
This theory is supported by reports in the Jewish Chronicle, Britain’s primary Jewish newspaper. With each of his offers to Rav Abramsky, Rabbi Hertz had sent a letter regarding nikkur to the Shechita Board. The first was never read, but the second was. According the Jewish Chronicle, at the time of the second offer, “a meeting was convened to consider a letter from the Chief Rabbi on the subject of the sale of hindquarter meat. After tracing the arrangements made in the past, and recent developments [emphasis added], the letter states that the Beth Din has decided that henceforth, all hindquarter meat sold in any shop under the control of the Beth Din and Shechita Board must be porged, and that one of the conditions of the license must be that no customer shall be sold hindquarter meat unporged.”
At this point, Rav Abramsky decided to compromise, and almost a year to the day from the first offer, he was officially appointed chief dayan on June 20, 1935.
No More Nikkur
Less than a month after his appointment, Rav Abramsky issued a full-page public statement in the Jewish Chronicle describing the firm measures the beis din would now enforce to prevent the sale of meat without nikkur. But he never relinquished his goal of entirely eliminating the sale of hindquarter meat, and during World War II, when many porgers were enlisted to assist in the war effort, he was able to enact a ban on the sale of hindquarter meat.
This measure met with stiff opposition. Sir Robert Waley Cohen, vice president of the United Synagogue, expressed concern that prohibiting hindquarter meat would necessitate using additional cows, making British Jews appear unpatriotic during a period of wartime rationing. In addition, the Shechita Board was facing a large deficit as a result of meat rationing, and fees lost from hindquarter licenses threatened to further increase the deficit.
Despite the pressure, Rav Abramsky did not back down from his demand, with his wife Reizel supporting him by offering to open a restaurant to sustain the family should he resign over the issue. After a meeting with the Shechita Board in 1941, Rav Abramsky delivered an ultimatum: If the committee would not stop the sale of hindquarter meat, he would leave the post of chief dayan. He rose, submitted his letter of resignation, and abruptly left the room. The members of the committee realized that Rav Abramsky was serious and voted unanimously to prohibit the sale of hindquarter meat.
This ban has never been annulled, and to this day, Jews in Great Britain are not in danger of eating gid hanasheh because of Rav Abramsky’s perseverance.
Timing Instinct
The nikkur episode was but one instance in which Rav Abramsky displayed a unique instinct for timing, knowing how and when to intervene to buttress halachic observance. In another instance, a fashionable catering hall opened in London, and the management repeatedly refused to obtain kashrus certification from the London Beis Din. Since many of their customers did not keep kosher, the administrators saw no need for the extra expense. Rav Abramsky, who regularly read the Jewish Chronicle so he could know what to daven for, noticed a prominent advertisement about the dinner of a major Jewish institution scheduled at this catering hall. The guest of honor was to be a member of the royal family.
Rav Abramsky and his fellow dayanim immediately drafted an advertisement notifying the public that the dinner would not be under kashrus certification, and asked one of the dayanim to notify the Jewish institution of the impending advertising campaign. Within ten minutes, Rav Abramsky received a call from a lawyer representing the hall, threatening to sue the beis din for damages. Rav Abramsky responded that a prominent attorney had already been hired to represent the beis din. In the scramble for a compromise, the Jewish institution’s lawyer suggested that the hall be certified for this one occasion. Rav Abramsky promptly refused the offer. Not long thereafter, the manager of the hall personally approached Rav Abramsky and requested permanent certification from the beis din.
Curtailing Dubious Conversions
Another key achievement for Rav Abramsky during his tenure as chief dayan of the London Beis Din was to improve geirus (conversion) standards in three areas.
First, the London Beis Din had previously only required conversion candidates to commit to keep Shabbos and to study Jewish laws and customs. In his contract, Rav Abramsky stipulated that candidates would also be required to live in a Jewish environment and demonstrate that their workplace would not hinder Shabbos observance.
Second, upon assuming office, Rav Abramsky restricted synagogue rabbis from being involved in the conversion process, outside of referring potential geirim to the Beis Din. This lent more objectivity to the conversion process, because if the prospective convert was dating or engaged to a Jew, the local rabbi was often subject to pressure to convert the potential marriage partner.
Third, after World War I, in an increasingly secularized society, interreligious socializing became more common, and the number of non-Jews seeking conversion was much higher than ever before. While the beis din generally refused to convert people motivated by marriage, they often capitulated when pressure was brought to bear from high places. Rav Abramsky, however, was never intimidated by any chief rabbi or officers of the United Synagogue into allowing dubious conversions.
One prominent member of the London community repeatedly approached the beis din to convert his son’s fiance. After delaying the decision for a while, Rav Abramsky finally informed the family that since they were Kohanim, it was forbidden for the young man to marry a convert in any case, so the conversion would be pointless.
When asked why he had not rejected the conversion on those grounds at the outset, Rav Abramsky replied that he had not wanted the public to assume that the young man’s status as a Kohein was the only obstacle to this conversion, but that any conversion for the sake of marriage would be rejected. Furthermore, Rav Abramsky explained that he wanted to establish that “there is no bias in the matter, even for community leaders.”
The numbers are dramatic. In 16 years under Rav Abramsky’s leadership, the London Beis Din accepted only five converts — as compared to 24 converts in 1925 alone.
Rav Abramsky’s uncompromising conversion standards were not popular with many of London’s Jews, especially secularized Jews. Reform historian Jonathan A. Romain protests, “For many Jews, the Chief Rabbi’s Court sometimes appeared to be less a communal servant than a communal tyrant.” While Rav Abramsky was hardly a tyrant, he certainly did not view himself as a servant of the public, but a servant of Hashem, charged with safeguarding and preserving the authenticity of the Jewish nation.
An Affable Lion
Upon reaching the official retirement age of 65 in 1951, Rav Abramsky and his wife settled in Bayit V’gan in Yerushalayim. He gave shiurim in the Slabodka yeshivah in Bnei Brak, continued to publish seforim, and later served as nasi of the Vaad Hayeshivos.
But his influence on British Jewry continues to be felt until today, and eventually, even secular Jews came to appreciate the values he had brought to their community. On Rav Abramsky’s 90th birthday, the Jewish Chronicle paid tribute to him, stating:
“[Rav Abramsky] laid down the law as he saw it... He [has] the presence of an affable lion, though he is not always so affable, especially when [halachah is] contradicted, and even the late and great Sir Robert Waley Cohen (a non-religious power broker of the United Synagogue), no respecter of holy persons, stood in awe of him.”
Rav Abramsky’s approach to religious leadership was poignantly captured by the late Chief Rabbi Lord Jakobovits, in which he recounted a visit with Rav Abramsky after the latter had relocated to Yerushalayim, during which Rav Abramsky drew his attention to a passage in the first perek of Yehoshua: “Be strong and courageous, for you shall cause this people to inherit the Land which I swore to their fathers to give to them. Only be strong and very courageous to observe, and to do according to all the law which Moshe, My servant, commanded you...”
When discussing acquiring Eretz Yisrael, Hashem only commands Yehoshua to be “strong and courageous,” noted Rav Abramsky, but when it comes to observing the laws of the Torah, Hashem instructs him to be very courageous.
These words accurately depict Rav Abramsky’s own ability to stare down any opposition to his efforts to shore up the halachic standards in England — be it communal leaders, left-leaning rabbis, or even a British judge.
When a shochet who had been fired sued the London Beis Din in secular court, Rav Abramsky was called to testify. After establishing Rav Abramsky’s name and position, his attorney asked, “Is it true that you are the greatest living halachic authority on the European continent?”
“Yes,” Rav Abramsky replied. “It’s true.”
“Rabbi Abramsky,” the judge said sharply, “isn’t some humility in order?”
“Your honor,” the Rav replied, “I am under oath.”
(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 629) https://mishpacha.com/the-affable-lion/
