With his translation of David Weiss Halivni's The Formation of the Babylonian Talmud, Jeffrey L. Rubenstein has made an outstanding contribution to the world of Talmud scholarship and to Jewish studies in general. Originally published as the “Introduction” to Mekorot umesorot: bava batra (Jerusalem, Magnes Press, 2007), The Formation of the Babylonian Talmud presents Halivni's latest iteration of his theory of the development and redaction of the Bavli. As Rubenstein notes, with its presentation of a comprehensive theory of the Bavli's development, The Formation of the Babylonian Talmud holds a unique place in rabbinic scholarship of the past century. The goal of this review is not to evaluate the details of Halivni's argument (his work is a mainstay of contemporary Talmud scholarship), but instead to summarize the main contours of his theory and then to evaluate Rubenstein's contribution: introduction, translation, and annotations.
Halivni's proposal for the development of the Bavli takes as its countervoice the “traditional voice”––that of Sherira Gaon (c.900–c.1000)––which posits that the anonymous portions of the Talmud (the setam) are explanations of Amoraic statements and coterminous with those traditions. Anonymous statements were so formulated because all sages concurred with the explanation of the amoraic dictum. The Talmud was completed at the conclusion of the Amoraic period in the fifth century with brief statements added by the Saboraim, living shortly after the Amoraim. In contrast to this theory, Halivni proposes that the composers of the anonymous portions of the Bavli, the majority of the Talmud, were not contemporaries of the Amoraim but instead functioned for at least two-hundred years after the close of the Amoraic period, from the beginning of the sixth century to the second half of the eighth century. They composed their traditions without attribution to emphasize the distinctions between Amoraic teachings (mainly dicta and fixed laws) and their own dialectical analysis. Most likely at the conclusion of the Stammaitic period, the Saboraim added minor editing and brief explanations to this larger body of work (25–26). Two other groups also left their mark on the Bavli: Compilers (me'asfim) and Transposers (ma‘avirim). Compilers, functioning c. 730–770, collected sugyot from different academies and wove them into a single Talmud. Transposers, functioning throughout the Talmudic period, transferred whole sugyot from one location to another or completed one sugya on the basis of another (155–156, 162).
Although for Halivni literary stylistic differences between Amoraic and anonymous statements are a sign of the chronological gap of their respective authorships, his theory does not rest on this literary difference but rather on the concept of “forced explanations,” or contradictions. As Halivni observes, medieval commentators noted contradictions in the Talmudic text. However, their methodological approach was to explain away and resolve these contradictions. In contrast, Halivni finds these forced explanations crucial to understanding the Bavli's textual development. “Forced explanations derive from the fact that the interpreter did not have access to the sources in their entirety, or did not know the correct textual version, or lacked original sources—and he had no choice but to resort to a forced explanation to complete that which was missing...” (41). Halivni posits that while Amoraim engaged in dialectical analysis, those traditions were not preserved and transmitted by Reciters (tannaim), professional memorizers. Stammaim, over generations, reconstructed these earlier arguments (and later Stammaim even reconstructed the arguments of earlier Stammaim); forced explanations result from these reconstructions. These are the broad contours of Halivni's argument.
Jeffrey Rubenstein is one of Halivni's most prominent students. In his own work, Rubenstein has taken Halivni's theories, developed primarily about legal sugyot, and applied them to aggadic sugyot. He has convincingly demonstrated that the Stammaim not only shaped the Bavli's legal sugyot but also extensively shaped aggadic ones. He is thus particularly suited to translate and comment on his teacher's work. Here Rubenstein has provided an explanation of his translation, an introduction, and additional annotations to Halivni's text. Two aspects of Rubenstein's translation choices are particularly salient: the first are his translations of Halivni's technical terminology (eg. “Compilers” for me'asef and me'asfim; “Transposers” for ma‘avir and ma‘avirim), and the second is his provision of full translations of many of the Talmudic passages Halivni mentions. Rubenstein's translation choices are excellent, and they will hopefully provide scholars with a common English terminology through which to discuss Halivni's theories. The choice to provide fuller translations of Talmudic passages, while desirable, is more complex. Even with these translations, Halivni's argumentation remains dense. Understanding his reasoning in each cited sugya still requires a considerable investment of time and, perhaps even more so for experts, a consultation of the original souces.
Summarizing the intellectual trajectory of Halivni's thinking from its beginnings in the first volume of Mekorot umesorot (1969) to the present and locating Halivni's theories within the wider world of rabbinic scholarship, Rubenstein's introduction is essential to this book's project. As Halivni does not write in a linear style, shuttling from a more general point about redaction to specific and technical examples and then back again, Rubenstein's introduction aids the reader in focusing on core aspects of Halivni's claims. Thus, a reader less experienced in the field of rabbinics can not only get a sense of the history and current state of Halivni's argument but also focus on sections of the book that enable her to best understand Halivni's theories. Rubenstein also notes a number of lacunae in Halivni's work: Stammaitic contribution to aggadah, the Bavli's Persian context, and current scholarship on oral cultures. Yet, fitting for a student of Halivni's, Rubenstein does not offer extensive critique of Halivni's theories, letting the reader find his own way.
Rubenstein's annotations to Halivni's commentary are equally important. As Rubenstein notes, Halivni's main academic interlocuters are nineteenth and twentieth-century scholars such as Isaak Halevy, Jacob Nahum Epstein, and Hanoch Albeck. In his annotations, Rubenstein provides important citations of more recent work, enabling a fuller picture for contemporary students of rabbinics. Thus, for example, while Halivni accepts the view that the Bavli did not know the Yerushalmi, Rubenstein cites current scholarship that disputes this claim. The works cited in these annotations enable the interested reader to follow up many of the lacunae that Rubenstein notes in Halivni's theories.
Rubenstein's translation is not meant to be a critical assessment of Halivni's ideas. Rather, it aims to open his work to a wider audience, both within the general world of Talmud study (popular as well as academic), and within the academy as a whole. With scholars from a variety of fields now able to access Halivni's argument, it is possible for it to receive even further evaluation. How might scholars of other classical literatures critique or sharpen Halivni's argument? What might scholars of oral cultures add? Finally, this book will be useful to another aspect of scholarship: teaching. As much of the theoretical literature on the development of the Talmud is in Hebrew, this book enables teachers of rabbinics to assign English-speaking students one of the most significant recent works on the Bavli. With Rubenstein's explanation of Halivni's approach and Halivni's own words, students will have the opportunity to read the Bavli with the accompanying voice of a master—and to be taught to evaluate the many voices of the Bavli itself.