It was the late 19th century, a time of immense change and clashing ideologies within the Jewish world of the Russian Empire. The air was thick with the scent of progress and the echoes of tradition. Right in the heart of this cultural ferment stood a newspaper called Hameilitz – meaning “the mediator” – the very first Hebrew newspaper in Russia. Founded by Alexander Zederbaum, it aimed to bridge the gap between observant Jewish life (Yiddishkeit) and the modern “enlightenment” sought by the maskilim, a movement advocating for secular education and engagement with wider society. But as with any mediator, Hameilitz wasn’t without its biases. It was a staunchly maskilic publication, and fiercely critical of Hasidism, a mystical movement characterized by charismatic rebbes and deeply devoted followers. In their eyes, Hasidim represented everything holding back Jewish progress. Hameilitz regularly took shots at rebbes and their communities, despite ironically portraying itself as a religiously observant paper. This backdrop sets the stage for a fascinating glimpse into the life and times of the Rebbe Maharash, the fourth Lubavitcher Rebbe, and how he became the subject of a very public, and ultimately very false, attack within the pages of this influential newspaper. The story not only reveals the intense rivalries of the era but also illuminates the remarkable standing of the Rebbe Maharash, even among those who didn’t subscribe to his teachings.
The year is 1881, and a storm brewed in the pages of Hameilitz. On September 20th, a letter appeared, supposedly from a resident of Dvinsk named MY Yafit. Yafit, a clear maskil, vented his frustration about the dire financial situation in the Jewish community of Dvinsk. He accused the wealthy of hoarding their resources, refusing to help the poor, and instead pouring their money into what he considered unworthy causes. And what was his prime example of an unworthy cause? “The Rebbe of Lubavitch, who recently made a commotion in our city and emptied the pockets of its residents.” He didn’t stop there, also criticizing a visitor from Jerusalem selling symbolic plots of land in Eretz Yisrael, suggesting these sales were a scam. This critique of rebbes accepting contributions and Hasidim giving them was a well-worn maskilic tactic, a familiar cudgel against a movement they viewed as parasitic. But this particular attack, aimed directly at the Rebbe Maharash, struck a nerve with his devoted followers. It was an accusation too public, too damaging, to let pass without a vigorous defense. The stage was set for a public clash, not just of ideologies, but of truth itself, played out in the very newspaper that had published the initial fabrication.
The slander didn’t sit well with the Rebbe Maharash’s loyal followers, especially those strategically positioned in S. Petersburg, the very city where Hameilitz was published. Just a month later, on October 25th, Hameilitz published a report from its editor, detailing an indignant response they had received. R. Yisrael Chaikin, a respected shochet (ritual slaughterer) in Petersburg, and the prominent merchant R. Mones Moneszon, had swiftly and emphatically countered Yafit’s claims. They questioned why Hameilitz had published such a story, asserting that Yafit had “falsely slandered this rebbe, as he did not visit Dinaburg, neither this year nor last year.” The editor, faced with such a categorical denial from reputable figures, had little choice but to retract. He admitted to being misled by a “fraudulent writer” and expressed regret for spreading “false slander about a man who is holy in the eyes of his followers and respected even by those who do not believe in his miracles, due to his abundant Torah teachings, his holy lineage, and his wisdom.” It was a remarkable public apology, a testament not only to the veracity of Chaikin and Moneszon’s claims but also to the Rebbe Maharash’s widespread esteem. Even Hameilitz, known for its anti-Hasidic stance, couldn’t ignore his stature. This retraction, however grudgingly given, offered a rare glimpse into the complex respect and animosity that coexisted in the Jewish intellectual landscape of the time, where even ideological opponents recognized the Rebbe Maharash’s inherent greatness.
The individuals who stepped forward to defend the Rebbe Maharash were not just any Hasidim; they were deeply influential figures. Harav Yisrael Shraga Chaikin, the Peterburg shochet, hailed from a distinguished Hasidic family in Shklov. His residency in Peterburg, outside the strict Pale of Settlement, was a testament to his unique status, allowing him connections that transcended typical Jewish communal life. Fluent in Russian, he served as a crucial translator and assistant to both the Tzemach Tzedek (the third Lubavitcher Rebbe) and the Rebbe Maharash during their visits to the capital for communal affairs. This close relationship placed him in a prime position to know the Rebbe’s movements. Then there was R. Menachem Mones (Monye) Moneszon, a wealthy businessman whose family ties ran deep with the Lubavitcher Rebbes – he was married to the Tzemach Tzedek’s granddaughter. R. Monye was more than just a relative; he was a devoted mekushar (one who binds himself to a Rebbe), a financial benefactor, and an active representative of the Rebbes’ interests in Peterburg’s Jewish communal affairs. Both men, living in the bustling, modern environment of Peterburg, were acutely aware of public opinion and the power of the press. Their close personal relationships with the Rebbe Maharash meant they knew the lie firsthand. Their swift, decisive action in directly confronting Hameilitz‘s editorial board highlights not only their unwavering loyalty but also their significant standing within both the Hasidic world and the broader Jewish society of the Russian capital, proving that the truth, when championed by influential voices, could even sway a biased media outlet.
The story, however, wasn’t quite over. To further dispel any lingering doubts, Hameilitz published another piece on November 15th, bringing in an independent witness to corroborate the Rebbe Maharash’s whereabouts. This time, the testimony came from Yaakov Meir Lifshitz of Sebizh, a man identified by Hameilitz as a non-Hasid, motivated purely by a love for truth. Lifshitz’s letter provided remarkably precise details about the Rebbe Maharash’s summer travels, effectively dismantling Yafit’s initial claim. He stated unequivocally that the Rebbe was not in Dvinsk that summer. In fact, the Rebbe had traveled abroad to Marienbad, a renowned health sanatorium famous for its mineral baths, for his health. Lifshitz meticulously traced his journey: “at the beginning of the summer, he traveled to the sanitoriums abroad via the Moscow-Brisk train, and from there he continued to Vienna, via Warsaw.” Upon his return, he departed Warsaw on September 7th, passed through Brisk, and headed directly to Krasnoya, near Lubavitch, without ever setting foot in Dvinsk. This detailed itinerary, later confirmed by the Rebbe Maharash’s own letters, left no room for doubt. Lifshitz also pointed out that Yafit’s letter was written and published while the Rebbe was still abroad, making his claims impossible. The newspaper, now thoroughly convinced, offered another apology, emphasizing the Rebbe Maharash’s “sterling reputation” and calling Yafit’s initial report a “criminal offense” against a “great Torah scholar, who dedicates his life to Torah and avodah.” This second, even stronger, retraction underscored the undeniable evidence that Lifshitz provided, serving as a powerful vindication of the Rebbe Maharash’s character and movements.
Ultimately, the source of the “fake news” itself – MY Yafit – was compelled to respond. On November 22nd, Hameilitz reported that Yafit had sent a clarification, claiming he had already submitted a correction earlier, but it had apparently been lost in the mail. In his new letter, he semi-retracted his original statement, admitting his only mistake was the name of the visiting rebbe. It wasn’t the Rebbe Maharash, he asserted, but rather the Rebbe of Kopust who had visited Dvinsk that summer. He insisted that all other details of his report regarding financial impropriety remained accurate. The editor, eager to put the matter to rest, added that independent sources had confirmed the Kopuster Rebbe had indeed visited Dvinsk, thus “vindicating” Yafit to some extent. However, a final twist came with the editor’s parting remark: he noted that he had been informed that Lifshitz, the diligent letter-writer from Sebizh who had so meticulously detailed the Rebbe Maharash’s travels, was in fact a Hasid, despite his initial portrayal as a neutral, non-Hasidic truth-teller. This detail, though seemingly minor, added another layer of complexity to the narrative, suggesting that even in the pursuit of truth, alliances and affiliations played a subtle, yet significant, role. The entire episode serves as a compelling historical case study, not only of “fake news” in the 19th century but also of the fervent loyalties, intellectual battles, and the profound stature of the Rebbe Maharash in a tumultuous era of Jewish history.