The present book brings to the public eye a little essay that has lain forgotten for 120 years. Published in Vienna in 1899, Netiv Moshe: Maamar Meḥkari ʿal Mishpat haNashim baEmunah (The Path of Moses: A Scholarly Essay on the Case of Women in Religious Faith), never attracted much attention. Literally woven of fragments of biblical verses and accompanied by footnotes whose length exceeds by far that of the main text, it had no chance of becoming a best seller. Had it been written by a charismatic religious leader or a renowned publicist, it might have stirred a debate, but Rabbi Mózes Salamon, the author of the essay, was the rabbi of a small provincial community, whose name and opinions did not really matter.
Tucked away among thicker books on one of the endless shelves of the Haifa University Library, it waited patiently for a reader.1 In over thirty years of wandering along these shelves I have probably passed it hundreds of times, until, one day, it simply fell into my hands. I certainly was not the first to hold it, and, probably like others before me, I was not impressed by either its appearance or its title. After all, I have seen over the years quite a few books with similar names that promised to prove beyond any doubt that Jewish women were the luckiest women on Earth. However, once I began to read it, I understood that this time it was different.
Intrigued by its bold critique of the place of women in Judaism, I began to seek the identity and origins of its author. I could not imagine what a frustrating search it was going to be. As in everything connected with this book, I had only luck to count on. The author refers to himself on the book’s cover as “the lowly Mózes Salamon of Khust.” By a funny coincidence I had known, in my early youth, someone who came from Khust, so I understood right from the beginning that I should look for my author in Hungary. However, at that point my luck left me for some time, because the author’s name and the name of the community he served as they appeared in Hebrew on the book’s cover were unintelligible. My lack of knowledge of the language and geography of Hungary certainly did not help. However, after months of fruitless searching in the library and on the internet, I somehow came across a yellowish postcard for auction on a collectors’ website. Sent in 1890, it was addressed to “Herrn Rabbinner. Arwa Thurdosin.” The author of the postcard, written (again, lucky me!) in Hebrew, expressed hope that it would reach one R. Salamon who used to be the rabbi of the town. Bingo! Both the name of the rabbi and that of the town matched my information. At last, I had a waypoint to begin my journey.
I have been with R. Salamon ever since, revealing fragment by fragment his life and work, challenged anew every time by his admirable knowledge of the Scriptures and the intricacy of his writing. After all this time, I am still amazed by the modernity of Salamon’s views, I admire his integrity and resolve, I share with him his hopes and grievances, I am aware of his weaknesses no less than of his achievements. Most of all, I am grateful to him for giving a real meaning to my professional life, for turning it into such an enjoyable, challenging adventure.
On a personal note. My mother passed away two years ago at the age of 97. As a child growing up in an egalitarian environment, I did not see anything special in her being a medical doctor, a psychiatrist. She did not see anything special in it either, except that she could not imagine herself as anything other than a doctor. For better or worse, she definitely was not the “Jewish mother.” As time passes, I admire her more and more. I am amazed by her pursuit of self-fulfillment, her professional integrity, and the insatiable love of knowledge that did not leave her till the end. The more I learn about the history of women, the less I take it for granted. After all these years of studying and teaching about the place of women in religious societies, it suddenly dawned on me how fortunate I have been to be born in the twentieth century, when at least in some parts of the world, women were given the right of choice. It makes me think with deep sadness of all those women that have dreams but are prevented from fulfilling them in the name of divine or man-made laws.
It is not a rare book. It can be found in three different libraries in Israel and online at