We all know the basic story of Chanukah, but what is the source of our knowledge? Remarkably, though the history is transcribed in the Books of the Maccabees and other sources, very few details of the story are recorded in Chazal. Indeed, this seems to be one example of a broader phenomenon: when a student of history turns to Chazal or other traditional Jewish sources, there is very little to work with, leaving us to wonder why there is so little recorded history in the post-biblical period. True, Talmudic literature relates numerous stories from which we can cobble together some sort of narrative, but it expresses little interest in systematic history.1 Why is that?

One possible answer lies in the Talmudic concept of mai de-havei havei — whatever happened already happened, so what difference does it make now? For example, the Gemara Yoma 5b states that knowing the order in which the kohanim were dressed during the inauguration is unimportant, were it not for the fact that this information is relevant to interpreting the verses. The Zohar (Beha’alotcha 149b) powerfully expresses the notion that there is little value in knowing interesting historical tidbits. Why, it wonders, does the Torah tell us that Noach’s ark landed on Mount Ararat? “Who cares whether it landed on this mountain or that one?” The Zohar answers that passages such as these teach us important values and deep secrets. Indeed, we can only perceive the message of the Torah when we dig below the surface. 

The priority of the message over historicity is powerfully expressed by the principle of ein mukdam u-meuchar ba-Torah — Scripture is not written in chronological order — precision with respect to historicity is sacrificed in order to better convey the message of the Torah. Instead of approaching history from a dispassionate academic perspective, Jewish thinkers look to the past chiefly to cement their relationship with God and shape their belief in Him and His people. For this, stories suffice; we don’t need history. 

In my recently released book, Illuminating Jewish Thought: Faith, Philosophy, and Knowledge of God (Maggid Books, 2020, pp. 395–402 and 437–443), I elaborate on why such an approach does not fully answer the question. Indeed, numerous traditional sources extol the value of knowing and understanding our past if we are to understand the present and prepare for the future, including the well-known verse:

זְכֹר יְמוֹת עוֹלָם בִּינוּ שְׁנוֹת דּוֹר וָדוֹר שְׁאַל אָבִיךָ וְיַגֵּדְךָ זְקֵנֶיךָ וְיֹאמְרוּ לָךְ.

Remember the days of old, Consider the years of ages past; Ask your father, he will inform you, Your elders, they will tell you. Devarim 32:7 

In the words of R. Mayer Twersky, “To be a Jew, to live as a Jew, means to live with a sense of history… A Jew’s history constitutes who he is, what he is, how he lives, to what he aspires.”² 

What, then, does mai de-havei havei mean? Presumably, it informs us that some details of history are of little value. Along similar lines, Rambam writes that studying chronologies of kings or military chronicles is a waste of time. However, we cannot extrapolate from the fact that there is no usefulness in knowing the order in which the kohanim were dressed during the inauguration that all history is useless. The study of history is especially valuable when it will bring us to an awareness of God’s providential role in world events, or give us a better understanding of who we are and where we should go. Knowledge of our past must guide our current decisions; without it we are in danger or making grave mistakes.³  Thus we must return to our question, why is there so little Jewish History in Chazal and other traditional sources.

R. Shimon Schwab addresses the question of why Chazal do not record much history in an article originally published in Mitteilungen (Dec. Mar. 1984–85) and reprinted in Selected Writings (Lakewood, N.J., 1988, pp. 232–235). R. Schwab notes that even though “the story of Chanukah is described in detail in the Book of Maccabees,” in Chazal there are “only a few scant references to this epic drama.” Moreover:

We have no authentic description by our Tanaim of the period of the Churban, the Jewish war against the Romans, the destruction of the Jewish state, the revolt and the downfall of Bar Kochba, except for a few Haggadic sayings in Talmud and Midrash. For our historical knowledge we have to rely on the renegade, Josephus Flavius, who was a friend of Rome and a traitor to his people.

Come to think of it, since the close of the Tanach at the beginning of the Second Beis Hamikdash, we have no Jewish history book composed by our Sophrim, Tanaim and Amoraim. The prophets and the Anshei Knesses HaGedolah have recorded all the events of their days as well as all previous periods. When prophecy ceased, the recording of Jewish history stopped at the same time. Why did our great Torah leaders not deem it necessary to register in detail all the events of their period just as the Neviim had done before them?

R. Schwab suggests a fascinating answer — to record history would be a violation of lashon ha-ra:

There is a vast difference between history and storytelling. History must be truthful; otherwise it does not deserve its name. A book of history must report the bad with the good, the ugly with the beautiful … the guilt and the virtue … It cannot spare the righteous if he fails, and it cannot skip the virtues of the villain.

Essentially, only with God’s directive can we record the unflattering truths of history.4 R. Schwab’s theory, while interesting, raises a number of questions which we address in the above section of my book.

Another similar approach to why historical details of the Chanukah story are not recorded in Chazal can be found in R. Shlomo Brevda’s le-Hodot u-le-Hallel (adapted into English by R. Eliron Levinson as The Miracles of Chanukah). He suggests that Chazal deliberately concealed much of the Chanukah story in order to protect us from reading potentially harmful material. As a precedent, R. Brevda cites Ramban’s comments to Bereishit 12:2. There, Ramban inquires about the many missing details in Avraham Avinu’s life story, from when he is born at the end of parshat Noach until Hashem tells him to leave his home (beginning of parshat Lech Lecha) when Avraham is 75 years old (Bereishit 12:4). Ramban answers that the Torah is not fond of discussing idolatrous ideology. The Torah wished to avoid speaking about the heretical beliefs of those who opposed Avraham and to skip the religious debate between him and the people of Ur Kasdim. Ramban adds that this is also the reason the Torah does not elaborate on the advent of idolatry in the generation of Enosh, instead merely alluding to it.

Thus far, we have presented two approaches — Chazal were uninterested in history, or they felt it was inappropriate to convey history. Let us consider a third possibility based on Maharal’s teachings: Chazal did not reject history; they were seeking to go beyond history. Perhaps the Talmud focuses mainly on wisdom that is inherently valuable (Torah) or that has some sort of immediate utility (e.g. medicine).5 History does not have that same inherent value. While important, insofar as it can serve as the basis for valuable lessons, and is even a reflection of God’s plans, it lacks the same inherent significance (it is mikreh) and it is not immediately practical. Thus, while many Talmudic sources derive instruction from past events, history is absent. What Chazal do teach are the lessons and meaning that emerge from history. 

Thus, Maharal writes that the Torah is not a history or biology book and should not be read as such. For example, when Chazal state that we have 248 eivarim and 365 gidin, they were not seeking to teach anatomy, but rather to teach us how the 613 mitzvot (which are comprised of 248 positive commandments and 365 negative commandments) perfect and sanctify the physical body. When the Torah teaches that rainbows are a covenant between God and man, it was not explaining the physics of the rainbow; it was imparting the spiritual reason behind the physical reason (refraction). Maharal (Be’er ha-Gola, 6) notes that many people incorrectly perceive a contradiction between Torah and science because they falsely presume that the Torah’s goal is to convey the physical reasons. Likewise, with respect to history, if we wish to study the facts, we can turn to secular sources; Chazal sought to understand the reasons behind the reasons — what’s behind the secular causation. The absence of science from Torah does not imply that science is not valuable. Likewise, the omission of history in Talmud does not indicate that it is useless, it simply reflects that it is not Torah.6 

Moreover, from our very inception, God told us that we are (or can be) above history (tzei me-itzagninut shelkha — see Nedarim 32a and Rashi to Bereishit 15:5). History focuses on secular causation, but the Jewish people merit unique providence. If history reflects nature (teva), we exist above nature (le-ma’alah min ha-teva). 

Thus, if we wish to truly understand the story of Chanukah, knowing the history may be helpful, but it’s insufficient and often misleading. Knowing the facts is not enough; we must learn their lessons. We must seek meaning, not information. We must remember that we are a people that have broken the patterns of history and whose future is not shackled by the past or present. Had the Chashmonaim studied military history or current events they may never had started up with the mighty Greeks. But instead they studied Torah. And the rest, as they say, is history. 

Endnotes

1. It is not just the Talmud that omits this course of study. Dr. Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi in Zakhor: Jewish History and Jewish Memory (University of Washington Press, Seattle 1982) notes that the Rishonim for the most part do not engage in the study of history. He notes that the lack of interest in history in the medieval period cannot be attributed to the lack of Talmudic material, since medieval Jewry “blazed new paths in philosophy, science, linguistics, secular and metrical Hebrew poetry, none of which had precedents in the Talmudic history. Only in historiography, a field in which Islamic civilization excelled and forged an important tradition, did a similar interaction fail to take place” (33). Yerushalmi deals with the handful of possible exceptions, such as Yosippon, Seder Olam, and Sefer ha-Kabbala. While in the early-modern period Jewish historical works began to emerge, Yerushalmi claims that their authors largely were influenced by non-Jewish sources, or, later, were traditionalist responses to those works.

2. https://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/976818/rabbi-mayer-e-twersky/victorythrough-surrender-how-to-live-and-die-alkiddush-hashem/. Likewise, R. Aaron Lopiansky recently wrote: “We need to teach our children history. And that history needs to include much more than dry names and dates and stories of gedolim. They need to have an accurate understanding of the experiences of the Jewish communities of each generation -- the daily life, the hardships, the challenges, the successes, and the wounds. The pasuk implores us to ‘contemplate the years of each generation.’” (“Sometimes Mashiach Is Not the Solution” Mishpacha, May 26, 2020)

3. Indeed, in his recent comments on current events R. Mayer Twersky implied that greater historical consciousness would help us better respond to come of the communal challenges we currently face. See http://torahweb.org/torah/special/2020/rtwe_sojourn.html.

4. While beyond the scope of this short piece, this would seem to relate to another fascinating position of R. Schwab concerning the controversy regarding the chronology of the kings of Persia.

5. Dr. Yerushalmi wonders why the Rishonim were interested in science and philosophy but not history. Here too, we might respond that these fields, especially when studied the way in which the Rishonim studied them, are inherently valuable. Linguistics too, when used to understand and interpret Torah, is intrinsically important.

6. Interestingly, Maharal’s student, R. David Gans (1541–1613), was a rare example of a pre-modern Jewish historian. His history, entitled Tzemach David, includes two parts, the first containing the annals of Jewish history, the second those of general history. The introduction to the second section justifies authoring a “profane” subject like general history, showing that it can even be studied on Shabbat.