הרב ראובן חיים קליין Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein

This lecture is hosted by the Sofrim Group headed by Binyomin Weisz and Reuven Chaim Klein <sofrimlist+owners@googlegroups.com>.

Empty Exaggerations

Moses said that when the Ten Spies reported back to the Jewish People about the Land of Canaan, they claimed to have seen: “great and fortified cities in the Heavens” (Deut. 1:28). The Talmud (Tamid 29a, Chullin 90b) explains that in this verse, the Torah speak hyperbolically, because the Spies did not literally see that the Canaanite cities reached the Heavens. As Rabbi Ami put it, in this case, the Torah speaks in “words of havai.” Rabbi Ami further explains that the prophets of the Bible, and even the rabbis, are also wont to speak in hyperbolic exaggerations. The Talmud (there) uses two different terms to refer to such “exaggerations” — havai and guzma. Because the Talmud ostensibly uses these two terms interchangeability, they seem to be synonymous. But when we explore the etymologies of these two different terms, we will see that their origins differ from one another.

As mentioned above, the Talmud states that the not only does the Bible sometimes speak in hyperbole, but so do the rabbis. They offer various examples of this in the Mishnah: The Mishnah (Tamid 3:4) states that the animal sacrificed in the Daily Offering would drink from a golden cup. The Mishnah (Tamid 2:2) also states that sometimes the pile of ashes upon the Temple’s altar would reach three-hundred kor. Another Mishnah (Middot 3:8) describes a Golden Vine in the Temple, upon which people who wanted to denote gold can affix an additional golden grape or cluster. The Mishnah concludes by noting that this golden vine was so enormous, that it took three-hundred Kohanim to move it. A fourth Mishnah (Shekalim 8:5) states that the parochet in the Temple was so heavy that it took it required three-hundred Kohanim to lift it to immerse it into a mikveh. The Talmud says about some or all of these cases that the rabbis spoke “words of havai,” or offered a guzma. As Rabbi Yissachar Ber Eilenberg (1550–1623) clarifies, these examples are just a sampling of the instances in which the rabbis exaggerated in the Mishnah, but is not an exhaustive list of all rabbinic hyperboles.

Going back to the passage about the “cities in the Heavens,” Rabbi Meir Pozna of London posits that the exaggeration in that passage was not the spies exaggerating about the enormity of the Canaanite cities, but was rather Moses exaggerating the spies’ rhetoric. He notes that when the Bible speaks about what the spies themselves actually said, it quotes them as saying: “and the cities are great and fortified” (Num. 13:28). It was Moses who exaggerated the spies’ report as though they said that the cities were “in the Heavens” (a phrase Moses himself repeats later in Deut. 9:1).

In explaining what a guzma is, Rashi (to Bava Metzia 38a, Chullin 90b) writes that it is merely  extraneous words, or “simply words,” that do not reflect the actual reality (see also Rashi to Erachin 11a). Similarly, Rashi (to Chullin 90b) explains that “words of havai” refers to speech spoken by common people, who often speak in vulgar ways that exaggerate the matter at hand. He notes that even though such people are not trying to lie, per se, nor are they careful to speak the exact truth.

The Talmud (Beitzah 4a) asks why there was a Baraita that explicitly taught that one is allowed to do two things which are obviously permitted, and the Talmud answered that this Baraita was simply a guzma. Rashi (there) explains that guzma refers to a sort of rhetorical device whereby one attempts to stress a specific idea by adding to it. In this case, neither rulings taught by the Baraita were untrue, yet they are still branded a guzma because the way these rulings were presented implied that they were novel, even though in truth they were utterly obvious.

After citing the Talmudic sources above that talk about guzma and havai in the Bible and in Rabbinic works, Rabbi Eliyahu HaBachur (1469–1549) in Sefer HaTishbi declares that guzma and havai mean the exact same thing—i.e., the act of overstating something in a way that it is not literally true. HaBachur claims that guzma is actually a Greek loanword, an assertion also made by Rabbi Binyamin Mussafia (1606-1675) in Mussaf HaAruch. Nevertheless, after some searching, I have been unable to pin down a specific Greek word from which guzma may have been borrowed or even derived. Because of that, I prefer to assume that guzma is of Semitic origin.

In Biblical Hebrew, the root GIMMEL-ZAYIN-MEM appears only five times: Three times in the word gazam, which is a type of grasshopper (Joel 1:4, 2:25, and Amos 4:9) and twice in the proper name Gazam, whose family were among the Nethinim who came to the Holy Land with Zerubbabel (Ezra 2:48, Neh. 7:51). In Rabbinic Aramaic, this root took on the additional meaning of “threatening” (see Targum to Ps. 8:3, Prov. 15:30, Job 30:21, and Shavuot 46a).

Rabbi Yaakov Emden (1697–1776) posits that guzma in the sense of “exaggeration” is based on this last meaning of the root. He explains that just as most threats are simply “empty threats” aimed at intimidating somebody, even though, in truth, the threatener has no intention of actually carrying out his threat, so too is a guzma a hyperbole that does not line up with the actual truth.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (to Gen. 11:6, Lev. 26:4, and Deut. 18:10) connects the Rabbinic Hebrew term guzma to the Biblical term gazam by explaining that just as locust tend to travel in swarms — with an inordinate amount of grasshoppers joining together — so too does a guzma imply a hyperbolic rendition of something true, yet whose numbers are likewise inflated.

Fascinatingly, Rabbi Hirsch also connects this root to the words yazam (“planning/enterprising”) and kasam (“magic”) via the interchangeability of GIMMEL, YOD, and KUF: yazam denotes the ability to create something more out of something less, and kasam denotes the ability to circumvent the limitations of nature to yield something more than usual (or because the magician purports to have access to more knowledge than the average person). Rabbi Hirsch also connects gazam to geshem (via the interchangeability of ZAYIN and SHIN), explaining that a geshem is a solid mass comprised of a hyperbolic amount of parts.

Because guzma is not a Biblical Hebrew word, Rabbi Shlomo Pappenheim (1740–1814) does not discuss its etymology, yet his explanation of the root GIMMEL-ZAYIN may prove helpful for understanding the word guzma. Rabbi Pappenheim understands the core meaning of the biliteral root GIMMEL-ZAYIN to be: “shaving/trimming something in a way that leaves some parts attached and some parts detached.” Other words derived from this root include: geiz (Ps. 72:6), grass that remains after trimming; gozez (Gen. 38:12, 31:19), shearing wool from sheep; gazam, a type of grasshopper which eats some produce and leaves the rest; geza, a tree whose top is truncated; and gazit, shaven/hewn stone.

Moreover, the root GIMMEL-ZAYIN-MEM (gozem) in Rabbinic Hebrew has another meaning which is similar to that of GIMMEL-ZAYIN — “to clip, prune” (see Avodah Zarah 50b). This is done when one trims a plant for the benefit of the plant itself, i.e., so that it will continue growing properly. In light of this, I would like to suggest that guzma is conceptually similar to this idea, because it denotes an exaggeration which is not completely detached from reality, but is rooted in some sort of truth (albeit in an overstated and excessive fashion).

Interestingly, Rabbi Shmuel Jaffa-Ashkenazi of Istanbul (1525–1595) writes in his commentary Yefeh Mareh (end of Jerusalemic Talmud Shekalim) that the word guzma is a portmanteau of egoz (“nut”) and meah (“one-hundred”), as the term denotes the sort of exaggerating whereby when speaking about a single nut, one would refer to it as though there were one-hundred nuts. Unfortunately, he does not explain why egozim in specific were chosen to illustrate this idea. (See also Eruvin 2b regarding guzma and the number one-hundred).

While the word guzma appears neither in the Bible nor in the Mishnah, the term havai already appears in the Mishnah. The Mishnah (Nedarim 3:1–2) rules that if one takes a vow in the style of havai, then the vow does not come into effect. For example, if a person vows to forbid something to himself on condition that “I did not see [as many people] on this road as [the number of people] who exited Egypt” or “I did not see a snake [that was as long] as the beam of an olive press,” then even if he did not literally see 600,000 people on the road or did not literally see a snake that was as long as a beam used for pressing olives, the vow does not come into effect. This is because the fellow who undertook the vow simply intended to accentuate — by way of exaggeration — the large amount of people that he saw on the road, or the length of the snake that he saw; but, he never really intended to undertake a serious vow that was tied to the literal meaning of his own words. The Mishnah brands such invalid vows “nidrei havai.”

The word havai can be spelled in two different ways: HEY-VAV-ALEPH -YOD and HEY-BET-ALEPH-YOD. If we follow the first spelling, then it seems that havai is a form of the verb “is/to be.” In that sense, havai refers to an exaggeration as something that “just is,” i.e., it simply reflects the way that people talk, but otherwise there is not much to it.

If we follow the second spelling, then havai seems to derive from the biliteral root HEY-BET. Rabbi Aryeh Leib Feinstein of Brisk (1821–1903) understands the core meaning of that root to be “raising one’s voice” (see Prov. 30:15), with havai as “exaggeration” being a way of figuratively raising one’s voice to make oneself heard. Rabbi Pappenheim similar sees HEY-BET as referring to “calling/commanding others to prepare something,” although he does not explicitly deal with the post-Biblical word havai.

Putting a different spin on it, HaBachur suggests that the word havai is derived from the Aramaic term hovai (“thorn”), found in Targum (to Isa. 7:25, 32:13, Job 30:4). He understands the connection by explaining that just as thorns are considered unimportant vis-à-vis the rest of a plant, so too are words of havai considered unimportant and untrue when compared to other rhetorical or literary devices. This explanation is actually first cited by Rabbeinu Nissim (to Nedarim 20b), when explaining the Mishnaic term nidrei havai. It also bears some thematic resemblance to Dr. Alexander Kohut’s explanation which compares the word havai to a similar Persian word that means ” breath/air/nothingness/futile.”

Rabbeinu Tam (1100–1171) and Rabbi Eliezer of Metz (1115–1198) are quoted as explaining that the word havai relates to the Biblical word habaim – “engaging in stupidities” (see Targum to Ezek. 20:29), presumably because if a hyperbole does not fully reflect the reality that it purports to describe, then it is nothing but mere stupidity (see also Tosafot Yeshanim to Nedarim 20b).

Earlier, we cited the Talmudic passage that says that the Mishnah’s reports about the massiveness of the Golden Vine in the Temple was merely hyperbolic. Rabbi Yaakov Emden explains that this does not mean that the Mishnah was lying about how many Kohanim it took to move the Golden Vine. Rather, it means that what the Mishnah says should not be literally taken as true exactly the way it sounds, but that it is still true if properly interpreted.

In other words, Rabbi Emden explains that the Golden Vine really did require 300 Kohanim in order to move it, but the Mishanh exaggerated in implying that all 300 Kohanim were needed to carry the golden ornament all at once. In truth, Rabbi Emden assumes, it took 300 Kohanim to carry the vine because it was so heavy that when some Kohanim became tired from carrying it, others had to take their place. Thus, the Mishnah means that all together there were 300 Kohanim involved in moving the Golden Vine, but not that all of them were needed at the same time as the Mishnah’s wording implies.

Thus, Rabbi Emden maintains that even when the rabbis state that something is a guzma or reflects “words of havai,” this does not mean that what is stated is not literally true, but rather that only the prima facia implications of what is stated is inaccurate, but what is actually stated is still literally true.

In the same vein, Rabbi Eliyahu HaKohen of Izmir (1659–1729) explains that the Canaanite cities were said to reach the Heavens because when one looks upon something that is very tall, it appears as though it reaches the Heavens. Thus, the literal meaning of that verse is not totally false, even though it is not “factually true.”

A similar sentiment is expressed by the Italian Kabbalist Rabbi Menachem Azariah of Fano (1548–1620), who writes that the word havai does not imply that something is totally null and void. Rather, it implies something that still needs to be understood and studied. He finds an allusion to this in the fact that havai can be understood as an acronym for the verse hinei barchu et Hashem, “behold they are blessing G-d” (Ps. 134:1). In this way, he intimates that “words of havai” should be taken seriously but not necessarily literally.

Kol Tuv,

Reuven Chaim Klein

Beitar Illit, Israel

Author of: God versus Gods & Lashon HaKodesh

Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein is the author of God versus Gods: Judaism in the Age of Idolatry (Mosaica Press, 2018). His book follows the narrative of Tanakh and focuses on the stories concerning Avodah Zarah using both traditional and academic sources. It also includes an encyclopedia of all the different types of idolatry mentioned in the Bible.

Rabbi Klein studied for over a decade at the premier institutes of the Hareidi world, including Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood and Yeshivas Mir in Jerusalem. He authored many articles both in English and Hebrew, and his first book Lashon HaKodesh: History, Holiness, & Hebrew (Mosaica Press, 2014) became an instant classic. His weekly articles on synonyms in the Hebrew language are published in the Jewish Press and Ohrnet. Rabbi Klein lives with his family in Beitar Illit, Israel and can be reached via email to: rabbircklein@gmail.com

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The Color Purple

Let’s clarify this from the get-go: There is no word in Classical Hebrew for the color “purple.” I repeat: There is no word in Classical Hebrew for the color “purple.” In fact, the English word purple itself does not necessarily even refer to what we call “purple” nowadays. That being said, there are three Hebrew words which have come to be associated with “purple”—argaman, segol, and lilach. In this essay, we will show how argaman does not mean “purple” and is not, in fact, even a color, and how segol and lilach are Modern Hebrew neologisms that only recently came to mean “purple.”

The word argaman appears 38 times in the Bible. Additionally, the words argavan in Biblical Hebrew (II Chron. 2:6) and argavana in Biblical Aramaic (Dan. 5:7) are alternate forms of argaman, based on the interchangeability of the letters MEM and VAV. Moreover, argavana is also the Aramaic word used by the Targum to translate the Hebrew argaman. But what does the word argaman/argavan mean, and from where does this word come?

The root of argaman seems to be comprised of five letters: ALEPH-REISH-GIMMEL-MEM-NUN. When writing about four- (quadriliteral) or five- (pentaliteral) letter roots in Hebrew, Ibn Ezra asserts that such atypical words are either compound roots comprised of multiple roots fused together, or are loanwords borrowed from a language other than Hebrew. Indeed, scholars like Rabbi Dr. Ernest Klein (1899–1983) and Dr. Chaim Tawil see the Hebrew argaman as borrowed from the Akkadian argamannu. The famous American archeologist William Foxwell Albright (1891–1971) argued that the Hebrew word argaman cognates with similar Hittite and Ugaritic words that mean “tribute/offering,” and thus evoke argaman as an expensive dyed cloth that was often paid as tribute.

In detailing the laws of the Temple and its paraphernalia, Maimonides (Laws of Klei HaMikdash 8:13) writes that argaman refers to wool that was dyed red. In his commentary to the Mishnah Maimonides (to Kilayim 9:1) again defines argaman, this time using the Arabic word laca. Bartenuro (there) uses that same word, but also clarifies that argaman was wool dyed red. The word lac is actually also an English word and refers to a “red resin”; it comes up more often in the English terms shellac and lacquer, that refer to red coloring. Maimonides’ approach that argaman refers to something dyed red is echoed by later authorities, including his son Rabbi Avraham Maimuni (to Ex. 25:4), Rabbi Tanchum HaYerushalmi (to Dan. 5:7), and Torat HaMincha (Parashat Titzaveh).

The Midrash (Shir HaShirim Rabbah §3:16, Bamidbar Rabbah §12:4) states that argaman resembles the gold of the kapporet, which was of a reddish hue (Yoma 45a). In fact, Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein (1829–1908) in Aruch HaShulchan HeAtid (Klei Hamikdash §28:12) adduces Maimonides’ position from this source.

Radak in his Sefer HaShorashim initially writes that argaman refers to crimson red, but then cites Rasag as explaining that tola’at shani refers to crimson red, so he concludes that argaman must refer to a different shade of red. Several Midrashic sources assert that argaman resembles fire, which points to the notion that argaman refers to something akin to the color orange (see Sifrei Zuta, Midrash HaGadol and Yalkut Midrashei Teiman to Num. 4:13, and Midrash Agur ch. 14).  Several Yemenite sources, including Midrash Chefetz and Meor HaAfeilah (to Ex. 25:4) write that argaman refers to a yellowish-red, while tola’at shani refers to a strong red. So perhaps Radak would agree that argaman was orange-colored. [After writing that argaman cannot refer to crimson but must be a different shade of red, Radak mentions those who explain argaman as lac.]

Explaining argaman as red does not preclude also explaining argaman as orange, for essentially orange is a shade of red (mixed with yellow). What is clear, though, is that none of these sources see argaman as a mixture of red and blue/green. This omission seems to obviate the notion that argaman refers to what we call “purple.” Moreover, all the commentators agree that argaman does not actually denote a color, but rather refers to woolen fabric that was dyed a certain color. So even if argaman refers to purple, it does not refer to the color purple, but to wool that was dyed purple.

Maimonides’ famed interlocutor Rabbi Avraham ben David of Posquieres (1110–1180), also known as Raavad, disagrees with his position. Instead, he asserts that argaman refers to something comprised of two or three colors “woven” (arug) together. As Rabbi Yosef Kurkis (circa. 1540) and Rabbi Yosef Karo (1488–1575) clarify, Raavad understood the word argaman as a portmanteau of the triliteral root ALEPH-REISH-GIMMEL (like in arigah, “weaving/tapestry”) and the word min (“species/type”). Thus, he understood argaman as reflecting a sort of panoply of colors, not just once specific color.

The Midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah §12:4) states that the term argaman alludes to the sun, who prepares (oreg, literally “weaves”) different forms of “sustenance” (manna). Alternatively, argaman is a reference to G-d who “weaves (oreg) together the world, so that each thing brings out its species (min), and one species will not mix with another.” Similarly, the Zohar in Idra Rabbah (141b) seems to understand that argaman refers to a hue of red that includes other shades as well (see also Zohar Terumah 139a).

Rashi (to Ps. 68:28), basing himself on Machberet Menachem, seems to explain that argaman is derived from the triliteral root REISH-GIMMEL-MEM, which usually means “gathering” or “stoning somebody to death.” As Rashi explains it, that root is, in turn, related to the root REISH-KUF-MEM (possibly via the interchangeability of KUF and GIMMEL), which usually refers to “embroidery.” Although Rashi does not explicitly make this point, the common denominator between all the meanings of REISH-KUF-MEM and REISH-GIMMEL-MEM is that they refer to gathering things together—be they multiple stones to kill a person or multiple threads to produce needlework. This perhaps suggests that Rashi follows Raavad’s understanding of argaman as consisting of multiple shades joined together.

Like Rashi, Ibn Ezra (to Prov. 26:8) also seems to understand argaman as a derivative of the root REISH-GIMMEL-MEM, but he explains that root as referring to “exalted” things, with argaman thus seemingly referring to an “exalted” sort of dyed fabric.

Ohalei Yehuda sees the word argaman as a portmanteau of oreg (“weaving”) and manah (“respectable portion”) in reference to argaman being considered an important type of clothing in the ancient world. Alternatively, he prefers the understanding that argaman derives from argavan, which is comprised of the roots ALEPH-VAV-REISH (“light”) and GIMMEL-VAV-NUN (“color/appearance”), in allusion to the bright color that argaman denotes. I similarly propose that argavan could be seen as a contraction of ALEPH-REISH-GIMMEL (“weaving”) and GIMMEL-VAV-NUN (“color/appearance”), with the middle letter GIMMEL related to both etymons.

Even though Raavad, Rashi, and the others do not explicitly identify argaman as red, that does still seem to be their understanding—albeit they seem to understand that argaman includes multiple shades of red. Indeed, Professor Athalya Brenner-Idan sees argaman as a general term that includes various shades of red that range from pink all the way to violet/dark purple. She supports this position by noting that the Temple Scroll (found within the DSS) uses the expression argaman adom (“red argaman“), implying that the term argaman alone can also include shades that are not typically understood as strictly “red.”

There are some cases in which it is fairly clear that argaman does not refer to purple. For example, Rashi (to Song of Songs 7:6) implies that argaman is a color that is sometimes found in women’s hair. Yet, as Professor Brenner-Idan first pointed out, it is dissatisfactory to understand argaman as referring to purple in that case, because no natural hair is purple-colored. In that particular instance, she supposes that perhaps argaman does not refer to a specific color, but serves as a stand-in for any expensive or rare item. See also Targum Onkelos (to Gen. 49:11) and Rashi (there) who write that argaman resembles the color of wine, which again seemingly precludes argaman as referring to “purple.”

That said, the Septuagint consistently translates argaman into Greek as porphyra, which is the antecedent of the Latin purpura, and, ultimately, the Old English word purpure. The Modern English word purple derives from those earlier words, but did not always refer exclusively to the red-blue combination with which most English speakers are now familiar. Rather, in several languages the word purple means “red,” and the word for what we call “purple” is actually violet. The same was true in English until relatively recently. Indeed, the Oxford English Dictionary offers the following alternate definition for the word purple: “Formerly: of any generally red shade; (now) of a deep, rich shade intermediate between crimson and violet.” Thus, when we hear the word argaman translated into purple, this is not necessarily what we call “purple,” but rather a generic type of red.

The Midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah §12:4) states that argaman is the most esteemed of the different fabrics used in the Tabernacle and Temple because it represents the garments used by royalty. In many other Midrashic sources, the word used for royal clothes is purpira. For instance, the Midrash (Pirkei De’Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 50) writes about Mordecai that just as the king wore pupira, so did Mordecai wear purpira. We also know from various Greco-Roman historians that Tyrian purple was a controlled commodity that was typically only made available to the royal family. However, just because the Greek word we are discussing is a cognate of the Modern English word purple, this does not mean that the actual color of the clothes in question was really what we call “purple.”

In 1894, Yechiel Michel Pines introduced a new word for “purple”: segol. This word seems to be influenced by the English word violet, which was originally the name of a purple-colored flower, and then became the word for the color itself. The Talmud (Brachot 43b, Shabbat 50b) mentions a plant called a siglei, which Rashi (there) explains is a reference to the three-petaled “violet” flower.

Rabbi Dr. Ernest Klein suggests that the name siglei derives from the Aramaic word sigla (“cluster of grapes”), probably because the formation and color of grapes on a cluster resembles the formation and color of the violet flower. I would further argue that perhaps the Aramaic word sigla itself derives from the Hebrew word eshkol due to the interchangeability of SHIN and SAMECH, as well as KAF and GIMMEL. We find, in fact, that Targum Yerushalmi typically translates the Hebrew word eshkol into the Aramaic sigla. Interestingly, Rabbi Eliyahu HaBachur (1468–1549) in Meturgaman notes that sigla also lends its name to the vowelization symbol segol, which is comprised of three dots in a cluster-shaped formation.

Another Modern Hebrew term for the color “purple” is lilach. Just like segol primarily refers to the violet flower and was later extended to refer to the color of said flower, so too was lilach (literally, “lilac”) a term originally used from the lilac flower that was later extended to the color of said flower. The same is true of the Modern Hebrew words for “lavender” and “mauve,” which are also recognized by the Academy of the Hebrew Language as different words for “purple.”

For more information about the meaning of argaman, see Kuntres Merkavo Argaman by Rabbi Yisrael Rosenberg of Lakewood. Many of the ideas and sources discussed in this essay were inspired by that work.

Kol Tuv,

Reuven Chaim Klein

Beitar Illit, Israel

Author of: God versus Gods & Lashon HaKodesh

Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein is the author of God versus Gods: Judaism in the Age of Idolatry (Mosaica Press, 2018). His book follows the narrative of Tanakh and focuses on the stories concerning Avodah Zarah using both traditional and academic sources. It also includes an encyclopedia of all the different types of idolatry mentioned in the Bible.

Rabbi Klein studied for over a decade at the premier institutes of the Hareidi world, including Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood and Yeshivas Mir in Jerusalem. He authored many articles both in English and Hebrew, and his first book Lashon HaKodesh: History, Holiness, & Hebrew (Mosaica Press, 2014) became an instant classic. His weekly articles on synonyms in the Hebrew language are published in the Jewish Press and Ohrnet. Rabbi Klein lives with his family in Beitar Illit, Israel and can be reached via email to: rabbircklein@gmail.com

On Hooks and Hangers

The sixth letter of the Hebrew Alphabet VAV is named after the Hebrew word vav (“hook”), because that letter is orthographically represented by a symbol that very much resembles a “hook” on which things may be hung. Cognates of the word vav only appear 13 times in the Bible, all instances of which are in the chapters of Exodus that deal with the construction of the Tabernacle (Ex. 26, 27, 36, 38). In every single one of those instances, Targum Onkelos renders the word untranslated in his Aramaic translation, leaving the word as simply vav. In this essay, we will explore four words for “hook/hanger” in Hebrew, but along the way we will learn all sorts of interesting factoids related to such diverse languages as English.

The early grammarians like Menachem Ibn Saruk, Rabbi Yonah Ibn Janach, and Radak are unanimous in explaining that the root of vav is VAV-VAV, although Rabbi Shlomo Pappenheim of Breslau (1740–1814) seems somewhat inclined to view the word’s root as the monoliteral VAV. Interestingly, Rabbi Aharon Marcus (1843–1916) supposes that the Hebrew word vav is not actually comprised from the root VAV or VAV-VAV in the grammatical sense of words derived from roots comprised of letters. Rather, he contends that this word derives from the orthographic appearance of the sixth letter of the Hebrew Alphabet, which looks like a “hook” (similar to the Arabic numerals 6 and 9 with which we might be more familiar). Because of this resemblance, the letter VAV itself came to be synonymous with “hook” in early Hebrew, but not that the word vav actually means “hook.” Rabbi Marcus even goes as far as to claim that this crude nomenclature was later abandoned once the Jews entered the Holy Land, as evidenced by the fact that the word vav appears nowhere else in the Bible besides the chapters in Exodus cited above.

Rashi (to Ex. 27:10) explains that the Hebrew word vavim means ankliyot. This word appears several times in the Mishnah as well (Pesachim 5:9, Tamid 3:5, Middot 3:5, and Keilim 12:2-3) in the sense of “hook,” especially the barbed part of a hook.

The Mishnaic Hebrew word ankliyot, in turn, appears to actually be a Greek loanword, and seems to be related to such English words as anchor, angle, angling, ankle, and hang. According to linguists, Greek and English/Germanic are derived from the Proto-Indo-European language (PIE), and the ultimate forebear of these words is the proto-Indo-European word ang/ank (“to bend”). Some scholars even trace the name of the Angles — one of the Germanic Anglo-Saxon tribes that occupied what later became known as England — to the word in question. They argue that the Angles’ original homeland was a hook-shaped peninsula that protruded from the European continent, or that these tribesman were expert fisherman or descended from expert fisherman who were adept at angling “fishhooks” to catch fish. If this is true, then the word onkliyot also serves as the ultimate etymon of the English word English.

Rabbi Shlomo of Urbino writes Ohel Moed (his lexicon of Hebrew synonyms) that an alternate word for “hook/hanger” in Hebrew is shfataim, which appears only once in Scripture (Ezek. 40:43). Targum (there) translates this word as ankliyot, although, in this case, it is spelled with an initial AYIN (as opposed to ankliyot mentioned above which was spelled with an ALEPH at the beginning). This explanation is also cited by Rashi and Radak (there).

However, Abarbanel (in his commentary to Ezekiel) and Radak (in his commentary to Ezekiel and in his Sefer HaShorashim, entry SHIN-PEH-TAV) offer an alternate explanation of shfataim as a “place” upon which pots were placed (that is, a sort of stovetop). This explanation is also implied by Machberet Menachem categorizing this word in his fifth category of the SHIN-PEH root. Rabbi Pappenheim also follows this approach in explaining how shfataim can be traced to the biliteral root SHIN-PEH (“slithering”). The core meaning of that root refers to moving around without lifting one’s feet from the ground, like Balaam who was said to walk shefi (Num. 23:3) and other magicians (ashafim), whose name implies that they did the same (Dan. 1:20, 2:2, 2:10). Other derivatives of this root include shephiphon (“snake”), a creature who ambulates about via creeping and crawling on the ground, with its body always touching the floor and never lifting itself up. In that sense, the shfataim refers to the spot where pots are placed, but from which they are not lifted (until they have finished cooked). See also Rabbi Eliezer of Beaugency’s commentary to Ezek. 40:43 who explains shfataim as a sort of “ledge/lip” that will surround the perimeter of the future Temple’s Table.

A third Hebrew word for “hook/hanger” — one that Rabbi Shlomo of Urbino does not explicitly list as a synonym to vav and shfataim — is the word agmon. This word appears five times in Scripture (Job 40:26, 41:12, Isa. 9:13, 19:15, 58:5), and Targum also renders it as ankliyot (at least in Job 40:26). Elsewhere, Targum (to Isa. 9:13, 19:15) translates the word agmon as hegmon (an explanation also cited in Radak’s Sefer HaShorashim). This latter word is also of Greek origin, and is the antecedent of the English word hegemony. (By the way, Targum to Isa. 58:5 leaves agmon untranslated).

Machberet Menachem defines agmon as a cane with a hooked top. Radak explains that agmon refers to a certain type of reed, arguing that ALEPH-GIMMEL-MEM ought to be understood in light of GIMMEL-MEM-ALPEH (via metathesis), from which derives from the word gome (“reed”). Rabbi Pappenheim makes a similar point, drawing on the biliteralist tradition to trace agmon and gome to the two-letter root GIMMEL-MEM (“absorbent or spongy matter”). The most basic word derived from this root is agam (“swamp/marshland”), on account of such a place’s sponge-like ability to soak up so much water, yet always remain wet. In light of this, Rabbi Pappenheim explains that gome refers to a sort of “spongy reed” that grows in such marshy wetlands, and agmon primarily refers to a sort of thistle with a hooked top that also commonly grows in an agam. As Rabbi Pappenheim explains it, the agmon was commonly used as a fishhook and eventually the word itself came to refer to any hooked or bent item.

In short, there are seemingly three words in Biblical Hebrew and one in Mishnaic Hebrew that mean “hook.” The Biblical Hebrew vav seems to be the most basic word for “hook,” although it only appears in Exodus and nowhere else in the Bible. The Biblical Hebrew words shfataim and agmon also seem to mean “hook,” albeit some commentators explain those words differently. Finally, the Mishnaic Hebrew ankliyot is actually of Greek origin and is, in fact, related to the very word “hook” in English and the word English itself!

As I wrote this article, I began to wonder if the Greek word onkliyot is somehow how related to the Greek personal name Onkelos, borne by the author of the famous Targum that translated the Pentateuch into Aramaic. A similar Greek name, Akylas, was borne by another famous translator of the Torah. Some have even argued that the two translators were actually one and the same. This question was discussed at length in the book Aquila and Onkelos by A. E. Silverstone (Manchester University Press, 1970). That book cites a letter that Rabbi Shmuel David Luzzatto (1800-1865), also known as Shadal, wrote to the Maskillic scholar Rabbi Shlomo Yehuda Rappaport of Prague (1786–1867). In that letter, Shadal argues that the Greek word onkliyot actually derives from the Hebrew root AYIN-KUF-LAMMED (“crooked”) and because of this, people more familiar with this Hebrew term mispronounced the name Onkelos as Akylas. (The fact that Onkelos is spelled with an initial ALEPH and Akylas is spelled with an initial AYIN need not bother us, because we have already seen above that when it comes to this Greek word, the letters ALEPH and AYIN are used interchangeability).

Kol Tuv,

Reuven Chaim Klein

Beitar Illit, Israel

Author of: God versus Gods & Lashon HaKodesh

Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein is the author of God versus Gods: Judaism in the Age of Idolatry (Mosaica Press, 2018). His book follows the narrative of Tanakh and focuses on the stories concerning Avodah Zarah using both traditional and academic sources. It also includes an encyclopedia of all the different types of idolatry mentioned in the Bible.

Rabbi Klein studied for over a decade at the premier institutes of the Hareidi world, including Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood and Yeshivas Mir in Jerusalem. He authored many articles both in English and Hebrew, and his first book Lashon HaKodesh: History, Holiness, & Hebrew (Mosaica Press, 2014)  became an instant classic. His weekly articles on synonyms in the Hebrew language are published in the Jewish Press and Ohrnet. Rabbi Klein lives with his family in Beitar Illit, Israel and can be reached via email to: rabbircklein@gmail.com