By Rabbi Moshe Gourarie – Rov of Bais Levi Yitzchok, Pomona

I read with great interest the article by my dear friend, R’ Mendel שי’ Greenberg, on the subject of speaking Yiddish, from the Chassidishe Derher.

The article itself is a welcome contribution. Among many in Anash, the use of Yiddish has unfortunately declined dramatically, and any effort to rekindle awareness of its importance is undoubtedly worthwhile.

The first half of the article highlights the value of speaking Yiddish, drawing on Sichos and inspiring anecdotes. The second half addresses the question of chinuch. A reader could easily come away with the impression that the Rebbe’s position is clear-cut: when some students are not Yiddish-speakers, a cheder should not teach in Yiddish.

I believe this conclusion is too simplistic.

As with many issues, the Rebbe’s shitah is neither black nor white. It is nuanced, and appreciating it requires careful study and discernment. The use of Yiddish as the language of instruction in Talmudei Torah is a complex sugya in the Rebbe’s teachings, and only by appreciating that complexity can one properly understand his view.

Before turning to the sources themselves, I should make one brief disclosure. I am affiliated with educational institutions that teach in Yiddish. Nevertheless, I hope the discussion will be judged on the merits of the arguments rather than on the identity of the author.

Let us begin with one of the Rebbe’s responses cited in the article.

An article published in Di Yiddishe Heim lamented the decline of Yiddish among American Jewry, noting that English had become the language of rabbinic sermons, the yeshivah, and virtually all communal life.

The Rebbe crossed out the entire passage and wrote:

אפילו את”ל שכן הוא %001, אין צורך והכרח להכריז עד”ז ובמשמעות שכן יקום וכו’

Even if you were to say that this is 100% true, there is no need or necessity to announce it publicly in a way that implies that ‘this is how it’s meant to be’ etc.

In other words, even if this accurately describes reality, it should never be presented as the ideal. At most, it is a bedi’eved.

A reader might assume that this response concerns only the general importance of speaking Yiddish, not the language of instruction. However, the Rebbe specifically deleted the statement that English had become the language of the yeshivah. Clearly, the educational setting was very much part of his concern.

An even more explicit source was not mentioned in the article:

R’ Bentzion שי’ Vishetzki, principal of Cheder Oholei Torah in Kfar Chabad (known as “Cheder Yiddish”), wrote to the Rebbe describing a school where fifty children were learning al taharas hakodesh while effort was being made to teach specifically in Yiddish. Having heard that this might be contrary to the Rebbe’s wishes, he wrote that he was prepared to resign.

The Rebbe circled a few words including those about the school’s Yiddish instruction and responded:

ואשרי חלקו וגדול זכותו ובטח עוד יוסיף בזה וה’ יצליחו

Praiseworthy is his lot and great is his merit; surely he will add more to this, and may Hashem grant him success

[It has been pointed out to me that, in an interview, the author of the article did cite this response and explained that the Rebbe had initially opposed opening such a school. Once it already existed, however, the Rebbe encouraged its continuation.

Whether or not this explanation is accurate is not relevant here. Had the Rebbe seen no value in teaching in Yiddish, he could simply have encouraged keeping the school open without specifically praising its insistence on Yiddish instruction. The fact that the Rebbe highlighted that point speaks for itself.]

Allow me to add two stories:

1) My great-grandfather, Harav Yirmiyah Alloy AH, had a yechidus with the Rebbe in 5737 (1977). The Rebbe asked about the education of his grandchildren in South Africa and inquired what language they were studying in. When he replied that they learned in English, the Rebbe remarked that learning Chumash in English resembles “learning the Bible.”

2) Mrs. Esther Rochel Moskowitz תליט”א related that when she and her husband, Harav Daniel Moskowitz AH, were considering opening a Chabad school in Chicago, the Rebbe, through Harav Chadakov, instructed that the school distinguish itself from the other frum schools in three ways: it should maintain the highest spiritual standards, teach in Yiddish, and have complete separation between boys and girls. She added that most of the five girls with whom the school opened did not speak Yiddish at home.

I recognize that these are personal recollections, and the Rebbe repeatedly cautioned against relying on hearsay. I therefore cite them not as independent proof, but because they reinforce what already emerges from the Rebbe’s own written words.

The article also quoted the Rebbe’s well-known letter (Igros Kodesh, Vol. 21) to Harav Hershel Fogelman of Buffalo:

שאלת שפת ההוראה, הנה כפי שהוא מצייר את מצב הדברים, עצתנו שילמדו הילדים באופן זמני הכל באנגלית, ויחד עם זה להשתדל שבמשך הזמן יתלמדו גם אידיש ואז יוכלו לעבור גם לשפת ההוראה באידיש.

Regarding the question of the language of instruction: Based on your description, our advice is that, for the time being, all subjects should be taught in English. At the same time, efforts should be made that, over time, the students also learn Yiddish, and then it will be possible to transition the language of instruction to Yiddish.

Note that the letter concludes: ואז יוכלו לעבור גם לשפת ההוראה באידיש – and then it will be possible to transition the language of instruction to Yiddish.

The implication is clear. Teaching in Yiddish was the desired goal; English was recommended only as a temporary necessity.

The same point emerges from the Rebbe’s well-known letter to Kfar Chabad. Although the Rebbe writes that “שהשפה בה ילמדו התלמידים לא זהו העיקר” (the language in which the students study is not the primary point), he immediately adds:

כן מובן שבמקום ששפת הלימודים יש לה השפעה על עניני יראת שמים וכיו”ב, אזי גם לקביעת השפה חשיבות בהתאם לזה

It is also understood that in a place where the language of study has influence on matters of Yiras Shamayim and the like, then the choice of language also has relevance in line with that.

Anyone familiar with these schools knows how profoundly the language spoken within them shapes their atmosphere. A school where Yiddish is prevalent fosters a very different level of Yiras Shamayim.

Taken together, these sources leave little room for doubt. The Rebbe regarded teaching in Yiddish as a genuine educational value. The real question is how that value is balanced against others. When insisting on Yiddish would seriously compromise the students’ learning, their ahavas haTorah, or other more fundamental educational goals, those priorities take precedence. But that does not diminish the inherent value the Rebbe attached to Yiddish as the language of instruction.

Moving from the theoretical discussion to practical application, we face an apparent tension. On the one hand, the Rebbe placed great value on Yiddish as the language of instruction. On the other hand, there are explicit responses indicating that, in certain circumstances, instruction should be in the local language. What, then, should Mosdos Chinuch do?

Obviously, I am not in a position to establish universal guidelines. Every institution should consult with its own Rabbonim and mashpi’im. I would, however, like to suggest several points.

First, there is a simple practical consideration. When many families in a school community already speak Yiddish, the process becomes much more natural, and even children from other homes will generally acquire Yiddish more easily.

There is, however, a deeper educational distinction that deserves attention. As the author himself noted in a footnote, there is a difference between a mosad al taharas hakodesh and a regular Talmud Torah.

In a school where secular studies (including reading and writing English) are taught, teaching limudei kodesh in Yiddish creates an additional challenge for children who do not speak Yiddish at home. Their natural language is English, and they must now learn to read in two languages. Naturally, reading in English will be easier and more enjoyable. When they want to read for pleasure, they will choose English, and over time the gap between their natural language and the language of their limudim may grow, potentially weakening their connection to learning.

The situation is different when the child’s only reading language is Yiddish. In that case, Yiddish becomes a natural language for him, even if he speaks English at home. His books, writing, and everyday literacy are all in Yiddish, so the language of learning is not foreign to him.

(Needless to say, a school that teaches limudei kodesh in English must teach children to read and write English properly. It is inconceivable that a child should not know how to read the language he understands or write in any language.)

Another important distinction is between a school where Chumash is translated into Yiddish but the general atmosphere remains English, and a school where the only language spoken by the Hanhala is Yiddish. In the first case, Yiddish remains merely the language of difficult studies; in the second, students learn to think and live in Yiddish.

Furthermore, when children grow up speaking Yiddish from their earliest years – even before beginning Chumash, and sometimes even before learning nekudos – the concern that Yiddish will make learning more difficult largely disappears. They already understand and speak the language when formal learning begins.

It is important to emphasize that the value of Yiddish instruction is not only the ruchniyus’dige value of the language or the atmosphere of Yiras Shamayim it creates. When Yiddish is truly the language of the cheder, it can also greatly enhance the learning itself.

Every Mechanech is familiar with a painful reality: there are children who read English easily but struggle with reading Lashon Hakodesh. One reason, in my opinion, is that English is their spoken language. The words are familiar to them, which naturally makes reading easier. While they are taught the basics of reading Lashon Hakodesh, the words themselves are not part of their natural vocabulary.

This challenge is far less pronounced among children who speak and read Yiddish. Since Yiddish is their spoken language, and they read materials in Yiddish, reading skills (of words written in Alef Beis) develop on the foundation of a language they already understand.

Furthermore, Yiddish has another unique advantage: a significant portion of the language itself consists of Lashon Hakodesh terms and expressions. A child who grows up speaking Yiddish therefore develops a natural familiarity with the language of sefarim that a child for whom Yiddish is foreign does not have.

I would like to conclude with a thought related to the broader issue.

I heard from my grandfather, Harav Elimelech Zwiebel AH, that at a gathering of mashpi’im around Yud Shevat 5730, there was painful discussion regarding the fact that sometimes tefillah in our own yeshivos did not appear as it should, and at times was even weaker than in non-Chabad yeshivos. R’ Nissan Nemenov explained that this was a form of hashgachah: because the standard expected of Temimim is higher – that there should be genuine avodah in tefillah – when that standard is lacking, the result can be even more disappointing.

The same concept applies here.

It is certainly true that many Mosdos must teach in English, and under those circumstances this can unquestionably be the Rebbe’s rotzoin. Nevertheless, the lechat’chilah remains that Yiddish should be the language of instruction, as demonstrated above.

The deviation from the mode of lechat’chilah can sometimes wrongfully create an overcorrection in the opposite direction: not merely teaching in English when necessary, but creating an entirely English environment that is foreign to the ruach of a yiddishe mosad chinuch.

I once encountered a gifted ten-year-old student who did not know the meaning of the words “machmir” and “mekeil” until they were translated into English. Harav Heller, shlita, related that he met a child from a chassidishe family who did not know the meaning of “Eibershter” and needed to be told that it meant “Hashem”!

Even when teaching in English is necessary, children must be accustomed to Yiddish expressions and the language of Torah learning, so that Chumash, Mishnayos, and Likkutei Sichos become a natural part of their world, not something foreign added onto their identity.

Our deepest aspiration is to raise children whose entire being is permeated by Yiddishkeit and chassidishkeit. May we merit true nachas from our children and students, and be zoiche to the coming of Moshiach, when we will be able to say ראו בנים שגידלנו. May this be תיכף ומיד ממש.