There is one more piece of the puzzle that remains to be explained. How could such an extreme reversal in the approach of the commentators have occurred? How could it be that all the translators and early commentators interpreted nachal eitan to mean “rocky ravine,” while almost all the later commentators – both Jewish and non-Jewish – understood the phrase to mean “flowing stream”?
Perhaps the key to answering this question lies in the fact that the early authors and sages were more familiar with the land of Israel and its landscapes. Many of them actually lived in the land itself, and others – especially Rashi, whom Luzzatto describes as having a “palate for tasting the taste of the Holy Tongue” – seemed to have had a unique sense for preserving the spirit of the land of Israel. These earlier authors interpreted nachal eitan in accordance with the landscape and atmosphere of the land of Israel. By contrast, the later writers generally lived in completely different landscapes. Many lived near the rivers of Europe, or on the banks of the Nile in Egypt, in the case of Rambam, and it may be that their interpretation was subconsciously influenced by the landscape in their own vicinity.
For further study:
S. R. Driver, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Deuteronomy (ICC), Edinburgh 1901, 241-242.
Yoel Elitzur, “Geographical Terminology in the Bible: nhr, nḥl, and nḥl ‘ytn,” Iggud: Selected Essays in Jewish Studies 1 (2008),
S.D. Luzzatto, Torah Commentary, trans. E. Munk, Jerusalem 2012.
This division of the verse also explains why the first letter of the word va-nachal (“in the wadi”) loses its dagesh, changing from the plosive bet to the fricative vet: It is connected to the preceding word ha-arufa, which ends with a vowel.
See Rashi’s commentary on Leviticus 16:8; compare to Toras Kohanim, Acharei Mot 2: “From where do we know that it must be on a cliff? We learn this from the verse ‘to an inaccessible region.’”
