Once again I need to make some changes to allow people to subscribe by email. So there might be some posts related to that in the days to come.
Thursday, June 29, 2023
Thursday, June 22, 2023
my new book - "Kohelet - A Map to Eden" is now available!
I'm so happy to share with all of you that after nearly six years of work, my first book, Kohelet - A Map to Eden, is available:
While it doesn't deal with etymology per se, it does use a linguistic lens to discover connections and parallels between Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) and the opening chapters of Bereshit (Genesis).
It's a genuine page-turner, and shows how
Kohelet - often viewed as depressing, confusing, and even tedious -
tells a real story, and provides a powerful message of hope.
Kohelet
– A Map to Eden is not simply a running commentary on Kohelet,
although I do delve into the explanation of its verses. Rather, think of
it as a captivating story. As you read through its pages, you will
embark on a journey with me, where I uncover the parallels between
Kohelet and Bereshit, and the analogies between the lives of Shlomo and
Adam. You’ll then witness how these connections lead to the story of the
Spies and how those episodes of downfall find redemption in the mitzva
of tzitzit, the Yom Kippur service, and the profound words of Kohelet
itself.
Those using the korenpub.com site can use the code ๐ค๐จ๐ก๐๐ฅ๐๐ at checkout to get a 10% discount.
Lastly, as a chance to further explore Kohelet, I plan on a series of posts where I'll take some of Kohelet's more unusual words and try to give some interesting explanations of their backgrounds. Hope you enjoy!
Wednesday, March 22, 2023
pakach and pikuach nefesh
In a recent episode of his great podcast Streetwise Hebrew, host Guy Sharett reviews words deriving from the root ืคืงื. He discusses the meaning and usage of such words as:
- ืคִּืงּืּืַ pikuach - "supervision, inspection"
- ืְืคַืงֵּืַ mifakeach - "supervisor"
- ืคַּืงָּื pakach - "inspector"
- ืคִּืงֵּืַ pikeach - "sharp, bright (person)"
early 14c., "burden, vex, inconvenience," from Old French encombrer "to block up, hinder, thwart," from Late Latin incombrare, from in- "in" (from PIE root *en "in") + combrus "barricade, obstacle," probably from Latin cumulus "heap" (see cumulus).
Tuesday, March 14, 2023
cumin and kimmel
The connection between the English "cumin" and the Hebrew kamon ืַּืּืֹื (often pronounced today kamun ืַּืּืּื) is broadly accepted.
Here's Klein's CEDEL entry for "cumin":
Middle English cumin, comin, from Old English cymen, cymyn, from Latin cuminum, from Greek kyminon, which is of Semitic origin. Compare Hebrew kammon, of same meaning, Aramaic kammona, Syriac kmmuna, Ugaritic kmn, Akkadian kamunu, Punic chaman.
He notes that the word entered Mycenean Greek as early as the 15th century BCE.
We find the Hebrew kamon twice in the Bible, in two verses in the same chapter:
And scatter cumin,
Or set wheat in a row,
Barley in a strip,
And emmer in a patch?" (Yeshaya 28:25)
Sunday, March 12, 2023
cadmium and kedem
The chemical element cadmium has an interesting etymology. Here's what the Online Etymology Dictionary states:
bluish-white metallic element, 1822, discovered 1817 by German scientist Friedrich Strohmeyer (1776-1835), coined in Modern Latin from cadmia, a word used by ancient naturalists for various earths and oxides (especially zinc carbonate), from Greek kadmeia (ge) "Cadmean (earth)," from Kadmos "Cadmus," legendary founder of Boeotian Thebes. With metallic element ending -ium. So called because the earth was first found in the vicinity of Thebes (Kadmeioi was an alternative name for "Thebans" since the time of Homer).
It then continues to point out that calamine - known from the calamine lotion used to treat itchiness - may get its origin from cadmium:
"zinc carbonate," also, confusedly, "zinc silicate," 1590s, from French calamine, from Old French calemine, chalemine (13c.), from Medieval Latin calamina, corrupted by alchemists from Latin cadmia "zinc ore," from Greek kadmeia
But lets go a little further. Where did the Theban king Cadmus get his name?
According to Greek mythology, he was Phoenician, and according to Herodotus, he was the one that introduced the Phoenician alphabet to the Greeks. The Phoenicians used the same alphabet as the speakers of Hebrew, which is why the the two alphabets (names and shapes of letters) are so similar.
Cadmus coming from Phoenicia also likely explains the origin of his name. Many scholars say it derives from the root ืงืื, meaning "east." For example, in his CEDEL Klein writes that the name denotes "the man who came from the East."
Hebrew also has kedem ืงֶֽืֶื meaning "east." But the root ืงืื can also mean "be before, be in front", because at that time people oriented themselves towards the east. This sense of "before" was not only in space, but also in time, so ืงืื can also mean to precede.
So if this is the case, cadmium and calamine are cognate with Hebrew words like:
- ืงָืַื kadam - "to precede, to take precedence"
- ืงְืָื kedam - "preliminary"
- ืงֹืֶื kodem - "before, previously"
- ืงִืֵּื kidem - "to promote, advance"
- ืงִืְืָื kidma - "advancement, progress"
- ืงָืִืืָื kadima - "forward, onward"
- ืงַืְืืֹื kadmon - "ancient"
Tuesday, March 07, 2023
another email test
Thanks again for your patience as I test the email subscriptions once again.
Since today is Purim, I thought you might enjoy a link to all of the Purim posts on Balashon:
https://www.balashon.com/search/label/purim
Enjoy and happy Purim!
Monday, March 06, 2023
more changes for email subscribers
For those that remember, about two years ago I had to change the service to provide email subscriptions to Balashon.
Well, it turns out that service also needs to be replaced. So I'm switching to MailerLite. Hopefully it will go smoothly, but expect a few test posts in the next several days so I can confirm that it works well.
Hopefully all existing subscribers have been migrated successfully, and there's a new subscribe button on the right for anyone who would like to start getting these posts by email.
If you have any issues with the transition, let me know. If you're not getting the posts, and you are subscribed, try checking your spam/junk email folders, and add the sender to your safe sender group.
Sunday, January 08, 2023
deyokan
What is the origin of the Talmudic word ืְּืืֹืงָื deyokan? In rabbinic literature it meant "image, likeness", and today, in modern Hebrew, means "portrait, profile."
The origin of this word is not entirely clear. Some authorities state that it is derived from the Greek ฮดฮตฮฏฮบฮฑฮฝฮฟฮฝ, deikanon, which refers to a picture, especially an embroidered one. Others think that it is related to the word ฮตแผฐฮบฯฮฝ, eikon, which means statue or picture, with the added Hebrew or Greek prefix d or diyu.
In his Hebrew commentary (Hullin, p. 389), he makes a similar statement, quoting both theories and noting that the second one is an explanation of the Geonim, who claim that the prefix means "two", and therefore the word means a duplicate of an image.
Let's expand on both possibilities.
The first theory says it derives from the Greek deikanon. That word is cognate with the verb deiknynai meaning "to show." There are a number of English words that ultimately come from that root, including these two:
- paradigm: "an example, a model," from Late Latin paradigma "pattern, example," especially in grammar, from Greek paradeigma "pattern, model; precedent, example," from paradeiknynai "exhibit, represent," literally "show side by side," from para- "beside" + deiknynai "to show"
- policy: ["written insurance agreement"], 1560s, "written contract to pay a certain sum on certain contingencies," from French police "contract, bill of lading" (late 14c.), from Italian polizza "written evidence of a transaction, note, bill, ticket, lottery ticket," from Old Italian poliza, which, according to OED, is from Medieval Latin apodissa "receipt for money," from Greek apodexis "proof, declaration," from apo- "off" + deiknynai "to show"
Surely connected with Gk. eikon (= likeness; see ืִืืงืֹื ִืื), but the ื is of uncertain origin. According to some scholars ืְּืืֹืงָื is the contraction of ืְּืืֹ (= Gk. dyo, ‘two’), and eikon, and properly means ‘a double image’.
The Greek eikon gives us the English "icon" as well:
"image, figure, picture," also "statue," from Late Latin icon, from Greek eikon "likeness, image, portrait; image in a mirror; a semblance, phantom image;" in philosophy, "an image in the mind," related to eikenai "be like, look like," which is of uncertain origin.
Both explanations seem reasonable to me. I'll leave it to you to consider which you consider either a paradigmatic example of a good etymology or an iconic one.
Sunday, January 01, 2023
persimmon and afarsemon
I was listening to an episode of The History of English Podcast, and I was surprised to hear "persimmon" included in a list of words originally from the Native American Algonquin language. I really enjoy eating the fruit persimmon, which goes by the name ืֲืคַืจְืกְืืֹื - afarsemon in Hebrew. Those two words are obviously connected, and I know that the word afarsemon appears in the Talmud. So how could persimmon be an Algonquin word?
Well, I decided to check my facts. First I confirmed that persimmon is a New World word:
the North American date-plum, a tree common in the U.S. South, 1610s, from Powhatan (Algonquian) pasimenan "fruit dried artificially," from pasimeneu "he dries fruit," containing Proto-Algonquian */-min-/ "fruit, berry."
And I was also right about afarsemon. However, in the Talmud it doesn't refer to a sweet, fleshy, orange fruit. Rather, it was a fragrant plant whose oil produced very valuable perfume. As noted here, the "afarsimon was considered so valuable that at one point it was literally worth its weight in gold."
Many scholars, such as the botanist Yehuda Feliks, identify the afarsemon with the shrub Commiphora opobalsamum. (Others say it was Commiphora gileadensis). It went by many different names (or may have been associated with various similar plants.) Many of them are listed in the Wikipedia entry "Balm of Gilead."
Included in this list is the biblical term ืֹּืฉֶׂื bosem, which appears 29 times in the Bible, or the variant ืְּืฉָׂืִื (my basam) that appears once in Shir HaShirim 5:1 . We actually discussed bosem many years ago, when we noted that it eventually gave the English words "balsam" and "balm" - so it shouldn't be surprising that the term "Balm of Gilead" is related. (The variant basam may have been the one borrowed into Greek.)
According to Klein (quoting Loew), bosem and afarsemon may be related as well. Here is his entry for afarsemon:
balsam tree; balm. [According to Lรถw a blend of Gk. balsamon (see ืָּืฉָׂื) and Aram. ืֲืคืּืจְืกְืָื Syr. ืֲืคืּืจְืกֶืָื (= balsam tree, balm), which is a loan word from Armenian aprsam.]
Feliks, in his book Plant World of the Bible (Hebrew), in the entry for bosem, writes that while in Biblical times bosem referred specifically to Commiphora opobalsamum, in Talmudic times bosem took on the general sense of "scent, fragrance" leaving more specific words, like afarsemon, to refer to the expensive balm. (He also mentions the Talmudic terms ืืคืืจืกืื, ืืืกืืื and ืืคืืืืกืืื).
So when and how did the confusion between afarsemon and persimmon begin? I couldn't find an exact date or a specific person who started calling the persimmon as afarsemon in Hebrew. But it seems to have happened in the mid-20th century, and the general consensus is the reasonable conclusion that it was due to the similarity between the two words. Feliks notes (in 1968) that in Israel there is no remnant of the original afarsemon orchards that grew in Jericho and Ein Gedi. So although afarsemon had a rich cultural heritage, it was available for public use by that time.
I have a theory that may give an additional reason. While the word "persimmon" is Native American, related species grew elsewhere in the world, particularly in East Asia. In Japanese the word for persimmon is kaki, and that is the adopted word used in many European languages, like French, Spanish, and German. But that word couldn't be adopted in Israel, since in Yiddish, kaki means "poop" (related to farkakte - lousy, literally "full of crap.") It has the same meaning in Modern Hebrew. (I've seen European speakers here refer to an afarsemon as kaki, and believe me, that raises some eyebrows.) So there was no way that would be the word used in Israel. So why not adopt the available, and similar, afarsemon?
But this would not be the only creative Israeli take on the persimmon. According to the Encyclopedia of Jewish Food (entry "persimmon"), Israelis developed a hybrid of the American and Japanese persimmons, which have "no seeds, no core, and even more importantly, no bitter taste even when unripe." Sometimes called "Sharon fruit", it is exported all over the world, and at least for me, is something I look forward during its season - every winter. It might not be worth its weight in gold, but I wouldn't trade it for any perfume.
** Update:
I just thought of one other reason why modern Hebrew may have been comfortable with adopting afarsemon for persimmon. They already had a fruit that began with a similar sound: afarsek ืืคืจืกืง - "peach." So for speakers of Hebrew, who never witnessed afarsemon as a perfume, may have easily begun using it for a fruit based on the similarity to afarsek.
** Update to the update:
The great blog Language Hat recently shared this post, and as often happens when that occurs, there are great comments by very knowledgeable people. One of them noted:
The afarsek connection makes sense to me, as I had always (until looking it up a few years ago and finding the Algonquin connection) folk-etymologized afarsemon as a blend of afarsek and rimon “pomegranate”, on the model of afarshezif “nectarine” < afarsek + shezif “plum”.
I completely missed mentioning ืֲืคַืจְืฉְׁืִืืฃ afarshezif. And certainly that additional fruit name would encourage people to think afarsemon had a similar origin. But in my defense, I did look at a few lists of fruits in Hebrew and afarshezif wasn't there. While I definitely know the word, I guess it skipped my mind. But interestingly, it doesn't appear in either Klein or Even-Shoshan. The latter is more surprising, since it includes plenty of slang and colloquialisms. But as these pages point out, it's a mistake to call it an afarshezif, since nectarines aren't a crossbreed of peaches and plums, but their own fruit. Therefore, they say it's proper to call it ื ֶืงְืָืจִืื ָื nektarina, and I suppose that's why it didn't enter the dictionary (or any of those lists I looked at.)
Monday, December 26, 2022
hedyot and idiot
What is the connection between the Hebrew hedyot ืֶืְืืֹื - "layman, layperson" and the English "idiot"?
They share a common origin, but in this case the Hebrew is closer to the original meaning than the English is.
Hedyot entered Hebrew in the rabbinic period, being borrowed from Greek. It was used in phrases like ืֹּืֵื ืֶืְืืֹื kohen hedyot (as distinguished from the High Priest), or in this mishna, discussing permitted work on the intermediate days of the festivals:
ืַืֶืְืืֹื ืชּืֹืคֵืจ ืְּืַืจְืּืֹ, ืְืָืֻืָּื ืַืְืִืื
A layman, who is not a skilled tailor, may sew in his usual manner if necessary for the Festival, whereas a craftsman may form only temporary stitches. (Moed Katan 1:8)
Klein notes that its original meaning of hedyot was "a private man, a layman, a common person" and provides this etymology:
Gk. idiotes (= private person, one not holding office; layman; an ignorant), from idios (= one’s own, private, personal, separated, distinct)
The same idios gave us two other English words that preserve that original sense of "separate, private":
- idiom: "phrase or expression peculiar to a language"
- idiosyncrasy: behavior or thought particular to an individual
early 14c., "person so mentally deficient as to be incapable of ordinary reasoning;" also in Middle English "simple man, uneducated person, layman" (late 14c.), from Old French idiote "uneducated or ignorant person" (12c.), from Latin idiota "ordinary person, layman; outsider," in Late Latin "uneducated or ignorant person," from Greek idiotes "layman, person lacking professional skill" (opposed to writer, soldier, skilled workman), literally "private person" (as opposed to one taking part in public affairs), used patronizingly for "ignorant person," from idios "one's own"
So like hedyot, it originally meant a private person (as opposed to a ruler like a king) or a common soldier (as opposed to a military officer). Only later did it come to mean someone uneducated, then a more "technical" term for someone mentally deficient, and eventually in our day simply an informal term for a foolish or stupid person.
That last meaning exists in modern Hebrew as well - as ืִืืְืืֹื (borrowed from European languages). Despite their similarities, it's important for any speaker of Hebrew today to not use them interchangeably.
Sunday, November 27, 2022
choref and cherpa
A reader recently asked if I've explored the words ืֹืจֶืฃ choref - "winter" and ืֶืจְืคָּื cherpa - "shame." I know that I wrote about choref. It's a post I go back to often, since it's a quick way of explaining how words can change over time (stav used to be the later season, and choref the earlier one.) In fact, I revisited it in a recent column in HaMizrachi Weekly (see page 28 here).
However, to my "shame" I never thought to write about a connection to cherpa. Perhaps that's because Klein doesn't suggest one, and back in 2007 when I first wrote that post, I relied on him even more heavily than I do now.
So I thought of writing an update to that post, exploring the possible connection to those two words. But as it happened, Mitchell First beat me to it. He recently sent me a copy of his latest book, Words for the Wise. As with his previous books, it includes many interesting short essays on history, liturgy, and of course the history and meaning of Hebrew words. (For the latter topic, you'll often notice credit to Balashon, which is always appreciated).
Mitchell wrote a truly comprehensive review of the root ืืจืฃ and at this point, I don't feel that I have much to add. His original column on the topic can be viewed here, although the book has an expanded version (pp. 167-174), so if you can, it's worth taking a look there.
Happy winter everyone!
Sunday, November 20, 2022
pulmus and polemic
The connection between the English word "polemic" and the Hebrew ืคּืּืְืืּืก pulmus seems fairly obvious. They both mean "controversy, dispute, debate" and both ultimately derive from the Greek polemos. Cased closed, right?
Well, I, for one, was surprised to learn that while what I wrote above is true, they each shared an earlier meaning, no longer in use. The Greek polemos meant "war", and that was the original meaning of both pulmus and polemic.
Here are the Online Etymology Dictionary entries for "polemic" both as noun and adjective:
polemic (n.)
1630s, "controversial argument or discussion, a controversy," from French polรฉmique (16c./17c.), noun use of adjective meaning "disputatious, controversial" (see polemic (adj.)). From 1670s as "a disputant, one who writes or argues in opposition to another."
polemic (adj.)
"of or pertaining to controversy," 1640s, from French polรฉmique "disputatious, controversial," or directly from Greek polemikos "of war, warlike, belligerent; skilled in war, fit for service; like an enemy, stirring up hostility," from polemos "war," a word of unknown origin.
And here is Klein's entry for pulmus:
ืคּืּืְืืֹืก, ืคֻּืְืืֹืก m.n. (pl. ืคּืּืְืืֹืกִืื, also ืคּืּืְืืֹืกִืּืֹืช) PBH 1 war. NH 2 polemic. [From Gk. polemos (= war), which is related to pelemixein (= to shake, cause to tremble), from IE * pelem–, enlargement of base *pel– (= to shake, swing).]
We find the meaning "war" in a number of Talmudic sources, such as Mishna Sotah 9:14:
ืַּืคֻּืְืืֹืก ืฉֶׁื ืַืกְืคַּืกְืָื ืּืก ืָּืְืจืּ ืขַื ืขַืְืจืֹืช ืֲืชָื ִืื, ืְืขַื ืָืֵืจืּืก. ืַּืคֻּืְืืֹืก ืฉֶׁื ืִืืืּืก ืָּืְืจืּ ืขַื ืขַืְืจืֹืช ืַּืּืֹืช, ืְืฉֶׁืֹื ืְืַืֵּื ืָืָื ืֶืช ืְּื ืֹ ืְืָื ִืืช. ืַּืคֻּืְืืֹืก ืָืַืֲืจืֹื ืָּืְืจืּ ืฉֶׁืֹּื ืชֵืฆֵื ืַืַּืָּื ืָּืַืคִּืจְืืֹื ืְּืชืֹืְ ืָืขִืืจ, ืְืจַืּืֹืชֵืื ืּ ืִืชִּืืจืּ ืฉֶׁืชֵּืฆֵื ืַืַּืָּื ืָּืַืคִּืจְืืֹื ืְּืชืֹืְ ืָืขִืืจ:
In the war [pulemus] of Vespasian the Sages decreed upon the crowns of bridegrooms, i.e., that bridegrooms may no longer wear crowns, and upon the drums, meaning they also banned the playing of drums. In the war of Titus they also decreed upon the crowns of brides, and they decreed that a person should not teach his son Greek. In the last war, meaning the bar Kokheva revolt, they decreed that a bride may not go out in a palanquin inside the city, but our Sages permitted a bride to go out in a palanquin inside the city, as this helps the bride maintain her modesty.
We have a citation above as to the earliest appearance of "polemic" meaning dispute in English. When did the meaning change in Hebrew?
Kutcher (Milim V'Toldotehen, 31) writes that the change from "war" to "war of words" was a result of influence from European languages like German and English. However, he doesn't say exactly when.
Ben-Yehuda has no entry for pulmus in his dictionary at all - which isn't surprising since he avoided including in it words that he considered "foreign."
The Historical Dictionary Project of the Academy of the Hebrew Language has the earliest "modern" meaning in a 1911 work. That surprised me, since I assumed that the polemics written in the Middle Ages to defend Judaism were known as pulmusim, but that doesn't seem to be the case.
So as so frequently happens, even the most obvious words leave much for me to discover.
Monday, November 07, 2022
chesed and chasid
There are some words in Biblical Hebrew that are difficult to interpret because they only appear once in the entire Tanakh. We've discussed plenty of those. However, there are other roots that are so common, and have such variety of meaning, that it can be just as difficult to pin down the "main" sense (if there even is one.) The root ืืกื is certainly one of those cases.
Its two main forms appear frequently: ืֶืกֶื hesed (246 times) and ืָืกִืื hasid (32 times). But what do they mean? Hesed can be easily defined as "kindness" (or an act of kindness), "grace", or "mercy." The related hasid is either an adjective, hesed-like, or a noun, "one who does hesed." But that doesn't make its translation any simpler - it can mean (one who is) pious, devout/devoted or kind.
So lets look at some different explanations of these words and how scholars have tried to interpret them.
Klein has both words representing kindness. He defines hesed in this order:
1 kindness, goodness, mercy. 2 affection. 3 lovely appearance.
And hasid, according to him, has a similar development. In Biblical Hebrew it means "kind, benevolent", and only in Modern Hebrew does it gain the sense of "pious, godly, devout."
The BDB entry (note the new Sefaria BDB resource!) goes further than Klein. They also have the root starting with "kindness", but note that both words can refer to piety in the Tanakh as well (e.g, hesed - Yeshaya 57:1; hasid - Tehilim 4:4).
Gesenius says the root has a different original meaning: "to love, desire." This "desire" comes to mean "zeal" or "love" for anyone - expressing itself in kindness or mercy. In other contexts, it can reflect piety (towards God) or the grace of God toward humans. That sense of grace is expanded, in some cases, to beauty in general (as in Esther 2:9,17).
The Ben Yehuda dictionary entry for hesed begins with the translation "grace" and explains it as something "beyond the requirement of the law, not done out of obligation but because of love." In fact, this is the only translation offered by Ben Yehuda. As far as hasid, he initially defines it as "one who acts with hesed," then "one who acts with tzedek," and only in the third definition offers the translation "pious" (for which he does provide biblical sources.)
Steinberg goes in a different direction. He says that the root ืืกื means "diligent." When diligent in the positive sense, that can lead to generosity, kindness, love, and devotion. Perhaps this sense of devotion can explain how hasid came to mean someone devoted to God (i.e., devout, pious) more than just someone who is kind.
From the sense of "pious ones", the term was adopted by those opposing Hellenistic Jews in the Second Temple period, and later following this, by an Ashkenazi religious community in the 12th and 13th centuries, and the Jewish spiritual movement begun in 18th century Europe. Today, in secular Hebrew, a hasid, can be a devotee or follower of any movement or individual.
There are two related terms to ืืกื that we have not yet discussed. One is the surprising use of hesed in a negative context. It is not common - only appearing in Vayikra 20:17 where it means "disgrace" and Mishlei 14:34, where it means "reproach" (as well as in the verb form in Mishlei 25:10). How did it obtain this opposite meaning to all else that we've seen?
Klein gives two possible answers. One is that they come from different roots. He writes for this meaning of ืืกื:
he insulted (a hapax legomenon in the Bible, occurring Pr. 25:10). [Aram. ืֲืกַื (= was put to shame), Aram.-Syr. ืַืกֵּื (= he reproached, reviled), Aram. ืִืกְืָּื (= shame), Syr. ืֶืกֽืָּื (= shame, reproach, ignominy), Arab. แธฅasada (= he envied). Some scholars connect Arab. แธฅasada with MH ืָืฉַׁื (= he suspected). See ืืฉׁื. See also ืֶืกֶื แดตแดต.
But he also offers the suggestion that this is a case where one root can contain two opposite meanings. For his second definition of hesed, he notes:
According to some scholars ืֶืกֶื แดตแดต and ืֶืกֶื แดต are of the same origin. For the ambivalence of meaning cp. ืֵּืจַืְ (= he cursed), which is ult. identical with ืֵּืจַืְ (= he blessed)
Perhaps this is a case of a contronym, which we have discussed several times. The BDB, for example, writes that the same "eager zeal or desire" which led to kindness, can also lead to envy, shame, and reproach.
The other word which may be related is the Hebrew word for "stork", ืֲืกִืืָื - hasida. In his entry, he defines it as:
lit.: ‘the pious bird’; so called in allusion to its love for its young
He notes that the Latin word for stork, pietaticultrix, had the same meaning - representing its dedication to both its young and its parents. When the hasida is mentioned in Vayikra 11:19, Rashi, quoting Hullin 63a, comments:
Why is it called hasida? Because it acts kindly with its fellows in respect to food.
However, a question remains: if the stork acts with hesed, why is it listed as a non-kosher bird? An answer offered in the name of various Chassidic (!) rebbes is that the stork is devoted only to its own kind. That may be a sign of piety, but it is not a sign of kindness - and so the stork is not kosher. In our review of the various meanings of hesed, this is a very important lesson to remember.
Monday, October 31, 2022
chok and chakika
The Hebrew word for "law, statute" ืֹืง chok, derives from the root ืืงืง. That root can mean "to decree, legislate", but it can also mean "to engrave" or "to carve (out)." What is the connection?
Before researching this question, I would have assumed that the laws were originally engraved in stone or clay, and that would explain the development. But that doesn't seem to be exactly the case.
Klein provides the following entry for ืืงืง:
Aram. ืֲืงַืง (= he engraved), Arab. แธฅaqqa (= was right, was obligatory), แธฅaqq (= justness, truth, necessity, obligation), Ethiop. แธฅeq (= moderate, sufficient).
(While he mentions here the Arabic haqq "truth", there is also an Arabic cognate, huqq, meaning "a hollow place". This developed into huqqah - "a small box, vessel", which eventually entered English as "hookah".)
Klein also notes the related root ืืงื, which while also meaning "to engrave," more commonly means "to imitate." One definition that Klein provides for this root is "to trace," which seems to be the bridge between engraving and imitating.
However, regarding ืืงืง, the cognates from the other Semitic languages imply that the development went from "engraving" to "set in place." This led to the Arabic "truth" and eventually to the Hebrew chok as well. This also can be seen from the progress of the word chok itself. Note the order of definitions in Klein's entry:
1 something prescribed, enactment, decree, statute, law, rule. 2 prescribed portion, prescribed due.
It didn't originally mean "law" but rather a set portion, a prescription. We see that usage in this verse, describing the portion the Egyptian priests received from Pharoah:
ืจַืง ืַืְืַืช ืַืֹּืֲื ִืื ืֹื ืงָื ָื ืִּื ืֹืง ืַืֹּืֲื ִืื ืֵืֵืช ืคַּืจְืขֹื ืְืָืְืืּ ืֶืช־ืֻืงָּื ืֲืฉֶׁืจ ื ָืชַื ืָืֶื ืคַּืจְืขֹื ืขַื־ืֵּื ืֹื ืָืְืจืּ ืֶืช־ืַืְืָืชָื׃
"Only the land of the priests he did not take over, for the priests had an allotment [chok] from Pharaoh, and they lived off the allotment which Pharaoh had made to them; therefore they did not sell their land." (Bereshit 47:22)
It is easy to see how the word for a prescription can turn into a word for a law or rule.
In the Tanakh, we also find the related word ืֻืงָּื chuka. In Biblical Hebrew it is essentially synonymous with chok. But in Modern Hebrew chukah got a more specific meaning - "constitution."
Sunday, October 02, 2022
snif
I was recently asked about the etymology of the word ืกְื ִืืฃ snif - meaning "branch," as in the branch of a bank or the local branch of a youth movement.
Klein provides some information. For snif, he writes:
PBH 1 attachment, addition. NH 2 branch of a school or of a business institution. [From ืกื ืฃ.]
But in his entry for the root ืกื ืฃ, he doesn't have much to offer regarding the origin. He defines the verb as "to add, join, insert" (with some forms also meaning "to annex"), but leaves the etymology as "of uncertain origin." This is actually surprising, since he tends to rely heavily on the Ben Yehuda dictionary's etymologies.
In this case the entry for ืกื ืฃ in Ben Yehuda suggest that ืกื ืฃ may be the ืกืคืขื (saf'el) verb form of the Hebrew root ืขื ืฃ, also meaning "branch." (Saf'el is similar to shaf'el, which we saw here, and is more likely to be found in words wtih Aramaic influence.) So the meaning would be "to cause to become a branch." Even-Shoshan expands on this, implying that the original form was ืกืขื ืฃ, but the ayin dropped out, leaving ืกื ืฃ.
In this essay, Yaakov Etsion notes that in Talmudic Hebrew, snif referred to wedges or beams that were attached to larger pieces. From there it was later borrowed into the more abstract sense of any type of attachment. And in the end, Etsion notes that it was Eliezer Ben-Yehuda himself who gave snif the modern meaning of "branch, affiliate."
Sunday, August 21, 2022
taar and morah
In the Tanakh, there are two words for razor for shaving. The more common one, ืชַּืขַืจ ta'ar, is found in five verses: Bamidbar 6:5, 8:7; Yeshaya 7:20; Tehilim 52:4, and Yechezkel 5:1. (In Yirmiyahu 36:23, it refers to a scribe's knife.)
The less frequent word, ืืֹืจָื morah, only appears three times: Shoftim 13:5, 16:17; and Shmuel I 1:11. All of these mentions of morah refer to nazirites (Shimshon and Shmuel).
The laws of the nazirite are found in Bamidbar, and that is where ta'ar appears. The phrasing of the verses is very similar. Bamidbar 6:5 says ืชַּืขַืจ ืֹื־ืַืขֲืֹืจ ืขַื־ืจֹืืฉׁืֹ "no razor [ta'ar] shall touch his head." Of both Shimshon and Shmuel the verses say ืּืืֹืจָื ืֹื ืַืขֲืֶื ืขַื ืจֹืืฉׁืֹ "and no razor [morah] shall come on his head." This would seem to indicate that the two words are synonymous - referring to the same object, first in the law of the nazir, and then in the stories of two nazirites.
This understanding is reflected in the etymology of the two words. Many recent scholars say that they share a common origin. For example, Klein writes in his entry for morah:
Of uncertain origin; possibly contraction of ืַืขֲืจָื, from ืขืจื แดต (= to lay bare), whence ืชַּืขַืจ (= razor).
The root ืขืจื, "to lay bare, strip" (the source of arom ืขืจืื - "naked") therefore led to both words. Morah was a contraction (the ayin dropped out) of ma'areh (meaning an open, bare place - see Shoftim 20:33), and ta'ar was a different way the noun was formed.
Kaddari also accepts this theory, and expands it by noting the connection between the root ืืื - "to shave" and ืืื - "to uncover, expose."
This same root - "to reveal" - can explain another usage of ta'ar in the Tanakh. It can also mean "sheath (of a sword), scabbard" (Shmuel I 17:51; Shmuel II 20:8; Yirmiyahu 47:6; Yechezkel 21:8,9,10,35). As Klein points out:
Prob. from ืขืจื แดต (= to lay bare, uncover), whence also Ugar. t‘rt (= sheath of a sword); hence of the same etymology as ืชַּืขַืจ แดต.
Gesenius says that ta'ar as sheath, "perhaps so called from emptiness."
Today, morah is almost never used for "razor" (probably because its other meaning, female teacher, is much more prevalent). Ta'ar is used for razor, although the phrase ืกַืִּืื ืִּืּืּืַ sakin giluach is also common. As far as sheath/scabbard, I guess I never had a reason to use the word, since the current word surprised me: ื ָืָื nadan. But it too is biblical, found in Divrei Hayamim I 21:27. However its origin is Persian (see a discussion here).
Monday, August 08, 2022
gazam and higzim
'When discussing hiflig, I mentioned that while one definition is "exaggerate", that's not a use common in Hebrew today.
I've now given it a bit more thought, and I think the reason is perhaps the popularity of the word higzim ืืืืื for "exaggerate." With a word that pervasive, there wasn't need for a synonym, which left hiflig as "exaggerate" an archaic usage.
That got me wondering about higzim. It is the hifil form of the verb ืืื. That verb, in its kal form, means "to cut", or more specifically "to prune, trim." (We've already noted that it fits the pattern of roots beginning with *ืื meaning "to cut.") How did a root that means "to prune" (the process of shortening) come to mean "to exaggerate" - which is making something bigger than it really is?
Klein notes that in addition higzim meaning "to exaggerate", it also means "to threaten." While not in common use today, that sense is found in Talmudic Hebrew. Jastrow provides a few such cases in his entry. For example, he quotes Shevuot 46a:
ืขืืื ืืื ืืฉ ืืืืื ืื׳ a man frequently threatens mischief and does not do it. Ib. ืืื ื ืื ื׳ ืื׳ .. in this case, too, he may have threatened and not done it.
The English Steinsaltz translation is slightly different than Jastrow's:
ืืืื ืขืืื ืืื ืืฉ ืืืืื ืืื ืขืืื ืืื ื ืื ืืืืื ืืื ืขืืื
Evidently, a person is prone to bluster without acting on his threat. Here, also, it could be that he was blustering about seizing collateral, but did not act on it.
The choice of "to bluster" as the translation of the Aramaic cognate ืืืื was a clever choice. Meaning "to talk or act with noisy swaggering threats" and "to utter with noisy self-assertiveness", it encompasses both the sense of "to threaten" and "to exaggerate." This is appropriate for the case above, where the person doesn't carry through with his threat.
But not every threat is a bluster. For example, the midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah 14:6) refers to the story of Joseph and Potifar's wife, saying that if Joseph did not acquiesce to her request, she threatened to tell her her husband that Joseph assaulted her. And yet Joseph did not give in to her, despite what she threatened to do to him - ืฉֶׁืָืְืชָื ืַืְืֶืֶืช ืַืขֲืฉׂืֹืช ืืֹ. And as we know from the biblical story - she did indeed tell her husband that Joseph assaulted her - she carried out her threat.
One word can't therefore contain all the meanings of higzim. So we need a different explanation as to the different meanings of the verb ืืื. Klein provides just such an explanation. After providing an initial definition of ืืื meaning "to cut down, hew down," in his explanation of the second meaning ("to exaggerate, to threaten"), he writes:
This base is prob. identical with ืืื แดต. The phases of sense development prob. are: cut; ‘to speak in a cutting or sharp manner; to exaggerate; to threaten’.
It seems to me that "to threaten" probably preceded "to exaggerate", but his connecting of "to cut" and to speak in a "cutting or sharp manner" makes sense to me.
Sunday, July 31, 2022
hiflig and muflag
A few months ago, we discussed the root peleg ืคืื. I noted the following:
The cognate ืคืื provides even more words. As with ืคืื, the root means "cleave, split, divide." Here are a sample of some of the words deriving from that root:
- ืคִּืֵּื pileg - "to divide, separate"
- ืִืคְืִืื hiflig - "to depart (by ship), to set sail"
Looking back, I don't think I gave enough attention to the form hiflig, and I didn't even mention the passive form - muflag ืืืคืื. Let's look at them now.
Unlike pileg, these forms only appear in post-Biblical Hebrew. Klein provides a few different meanings:
Hiph. - ืִืคֽืִืื 1 he separated (orig. ‘he divided’); 2 he went off (lit.: ‘he separated himself’); for sense development cp. Fren. partir (= to divide, separate), se partir (= to separate oneself, depart, leave); 3 he set sail; 4 he turned aside, diverted, put off; 5 he removed; 6 he exaggerated (lit. prob. meaning ‘he went too far’).
— Hoph. - ืֻืคֽืַื 1 was diverted; 2 was removed.
For muflag he offers a few more:
PBH 1 distant, remote. PBH 2 distinguished, excellent. NH 3 exaggerated.
However, there are many more meanings found in Talmudic and Rabbinic Hebrew. Jastrow lists the following (see the link for citations) for hiflig:
- to part, go away
- to go to sea
- to rest from work, to pause
- to divert, put off; to discard
- to reject, disregard, discard
- to decline from the road
- to withdraw one's self, to be reserved, speak in indefinite and general terms
- to differ
- to go too far
- to put off with fair words
- to put aside
- to separate oneself
- to branch off, to step aside
- to not mind, to not pay attention
- to go astray
- to go far
What I find remarkable, is that with the root having so many meanings and connotations over the centuries, in modern Hebrew very few are still in use.
to depart (by ship, boat); to sail; to exaggerate
sailed, sail, sailing, shipped out, proceeded, departed
If we add the word ืฉืื shevach - "praise" - to the phrase, then we find examples both in Medieval Hebrew and in Modern Hebrew of ืืคืืื ืืฉืื meaning "lavish praise (on someone/something)." Those examples don't imply exaggeration.
Regarding muflag, we see a similar phenomenon. Looking at the definition found in the various dictionaries, you might think that the common meaning was "exaggerated." That's particularly true if you consider some of the negative connotations of hiflig cited, like "to go astray", "to reject', and in particular, "to go too far", which Klein suggested was the origin of the meaning "exaggerated".
But again, that's not really what we see in common use. Morfix does suggest "exaggerated", but the meanings listed are "grand" and "exalted". Reverso doesn't have "exaggerated" at all, instead offering:
superlative, ripe old, old age, great age, overdrive, superlatively, superfluous
I do recognize that "superfluous" isn't so far from "exaggerated", but I think the latter implies more conscious intent. A common use of muflag today is in the phrase gil muflag ืืื ืืืคืื (as seen in some of Reverso's suggestion), referring to someone very old. So I think good translations of muflag could be "exceeding(ly great)" or "excessive", depending on the context. Sometimes it would reflect the earlier sense of "to go far" and other times "to go too far."
Sunday, July 24, 2022
olar
A reader asked about the etymology of ืืֹืָืจ olar - "pen knife" - since Klein reports that the word is "of unknown origin." The more recent Even-Shoshan dictionary also does not provide the origin of the word.
The word olar appears for the first time in Mishnaic Hebrew, but appears in only a very few sources, making its history difficult to decipher.
The most prominent source is Mishna Kelim 12:8, which lists various utensils subject to ritual impurity. It begins by mentioning: ืָืืֹืָืจ, ืְืַืงֻּืְืืֹืก - the olar and the kulmos. Since the latter is a "reed pen" (as we discussed here), the olar was understood to specifically refer to a penknife, since that kind of small knife was originally used for cutting the quills used for pens. Like the English word penknife, today olar refers to any kind of pocket knife, like the famous Swiss Army knife.
We also find the olar and the kulmos together in Tosefta Kelim BB 7:12, and that's pretty much it. The Historical Dictionary Project of the Academy of the Hebrew Language provides a few more mentions, but none shed light on the possible origin of the word. However, looking at the quotes mentioned there, we do find that some sources have the word spelled ืืֹืָื olad, instead of olar.
Jastrow prefers this spelling, and provides this definition:
a tool for hollowing out and cutting the writing reed (scalprum), a sort of pen-knife.
Following his general tendency to look for Semitic origins for Talmudic words, Jastrow suggests that olad comes from the roots ืืื or ืืื, presumably in the way that a fetus fills the abdominal cavity of a pregnant woman.
That suggestion seems farfetched to me. Yet putting his etymology aside, it's not clear which is the original word - olar or olad. Based on the similarity between the letters resh and dalet, it's understandable how such a rare word could have been the subject of a scribal error in either direction. But with no etymology, we can't really say which form should be preferred.
The question of olar vs olad became more intense during the dawn of modern Hebrew - I assume because the word was now entering the vernacular, and people needed to know how to say and write it.
Bialik claimed that olad was the original form (which lead to an interesting conversation with Avineri), as did Kohut in his Arukh Hashalem. Tur-Sinai agreed that olad was probably the original form, but noted that since we don't know the etymology, there's no point in objecting to the popular form olar. And since olar is the way it appears in most printed editions of the Mishna, as well as in the later works of the Rambam (as pointed out by Melamed here) , that's what stuck.
So what about the etymology? The footnote to the olar entry in the Ben-Yehuda dictionary concedes that the source isn't known (which is likely what led Klein to the same conclusion). It notes that there were attempts to find a Greek source, but like Jastrow's Hebrew one, they are not convincing. It quotes Fleischer as saying that olar (or olad) is one of those words that entered Hebrew in the Mishnaic period that we simply don't know the etymology. Fleischer was commenting on Jacob Levy's dictionary of Talmudic terms (in German). Levy (page 40) proposes a Greek etymology, and then Fleischer later disagrees (page 279). Using Google Translate, Fleischer considers this one of the "numerous unsolved, maybe even unsolvable, etymological riddles of this mixed language." (German speakers are welcome to provide a better translation).
Nothing I found in more recent scholarship has presented a "new" etymology for olar.
If you read this far that might not be satisfying, and even frustrating. But I look at it as an opportunity. Perhaps one of you will be the one to crack the case!
Sunday, July 17, 2022
kasda
This is a short one, but I thought it was interesting.
The Hebrew word for helmet, kasda ืงַืกְืָּื (or in the Mishna, ืงַืกְืָּื) comes from Latin. Here is Klein's etymology:
From L. cassis, gen. cassidis, which prob. stands for * kadh-tis, from IE * kadh– (= to guard, watch), whence also Old Eng. hลd, hood, haett (= hat).
While words like hood and hat may indeed be distantly cognate with kasda, I liked these closer cousins.
The Latin cassida shows up in the name of a genus of tortoise beetles, whose shells do recall a helmet:
![]() |
| From Wikipedia / © Darius Bauลพys |
It also appears in the name of of a family of large sea snails, the Cassidae, who are also known as "helmet snails":
![]() |
| https://www.flickr.com/photos/budak/51362681871 |
How responsible of them to be wearing a kasda!


