A significant portion of siddurim distributed in Eretz Yisrael, whose stories have been published in this column, are effectively new editions – sometimes entirely identical ones – of siddurim made outside Eretz Yisrael which ended up in Eretz HaKodesh. This is the case with some of the siddurim published by the Tel Aviv-based Sinai company, a range of siddurim originally published for Jewish communities in north Africa, as well as a number of more updated siddurim, which were first published in the United States and only later made aliyah – usually with their original form unchanged.
At the same time, from the early twentieth century until today, siddurim from Eretz Yisrael have also made the opposite journey: from the store of Rabbi Amram Aburbeh to the communities to Fez and Casablanca during the British Mandate, from the Koren publishing house to the Anglo-Saxon communities in the west, and from modest publishers in Me’ah Shearim and its sister neighborhoods to Charedi communities throughout the world. One of the most prominent of these Israeli exports – which does not seem to have lived up to its promise – was the Rinat Yisrael siddur for those outside Eretz Yisrael, which first appeared in the state’s 25th year.
Much has been written on the dramatic influence of the Rinat Yisrael series on the world of prayer in Eretz Yisrael. The aesthetic and national elements cemented in the siddur – and its mass distribution since its first printing – quickly made the Rinat Yisrael a beloved, familiar item, combining halachic, spiritual, ideological, and aesthetic elements.
The success of the first siddur in the series – produced in 1970 in nusach Sefard – quickly led to another edition in nusach Ashkenaz, and then another siddur marketed to “Sefardim and sons of Mizrahi communities.” But even before this, another unique siddur was produced as part of the series, meant not for those praying in Israel and thanking G-d for its existence, but rather those who dwell outside its border while praying in its direction. All this was done at the direction of editor Shlomo Tal, who served for many years as principal of the Gold Institute or Machon Gold for training teachers in the Diaspora.
While the Rinat Yisrael siddur’s original editions relied on the support of the Religion and Education Ministries, the edition meant for Diaspora Jews was funded by the World Zionist Organization’s department for Torah education and culture in the Diaspora. Accordingly, the introduction – signed by department heads Moshe Koronah and Haim Hamiel – primarily stressed the significant role the siddur plays in the world of Jewish education abroad: “There is hardly a school in the Diaspora where reading the siddur is not a part of its curriculum … one cannot describe Jewish education and living without the siddur and without knowing the prayers … the siddur helps him become acquainted with and appreciate his Jewish identity and find his place within Klal Yisrael; it grants him a sense of belonging in the Jewish public.”
The siddur for congregants abroad was only printed in nusach Ashkenaz, likely due to the preferences of most of the target communities. As a clearly Orthodox siddur, the changes it included – as opposed to the ones printed in Eretz Yisrael – were not surprising or far-reaching, and they derived directly from prayer customs outside the Holy Land: removing “Morid Hatal” and “Ein KeElokeinu” from the siddur, adding “Baruch Hashem LeOlam Amen VeAmen” for Maariv, as well as including the prayers said abroad on second day yom tov and during chol hamoed. Halachos specific for those abroad were integrated into the Dvar Yom BeYomo collection printed at the end of the siddur, which was meant to cement halachos and customs – some of them national – for communities adopting the siddur and its contents. A slightly more significant change was included by Shlomo Tal in the tachanun formula for Monday and Thursday. While the siddur for Eretz Yisrael omitted the words “[hussa Hashem aleinu] BeEretz Shivyeinu – Have mercy on us G-d in the land of our captivity,” the editions for people outside Eretz Yisrael included the phrase. This, even if many people using the siddur did not consider the country they lived in to be one where they were held captive.
The siddur was printed a number of times in the seventies and eighties, and appears to have been fairly successful across the sea initially. In 1982, a new, special edition was even printed, which integrated English translations of its comments and explanations, done by David Zahan. This was so even though the original drivers of the project likely hoped that students and congregants would so improve their command of Hebrew that translation would not be necessary.
Either way, the siddur’s distribution has greatly shrunk in the last twenty years, in part due to the emergence of growing and healthy competition in the field of sifrei kodesh, and it would seem that its story today primarily reflects the first hopes of its editors, on the State of Israel’s 25th birthday: to unite Jews both inside and outside Eretz Yisrael in prayer to Hashem.
Originally published on JFeed.com.
