The Commentator

My sixty plus year association with Yeshiva began in 1939 when, as a nervous high school sophomore, in the company of Moshe Tendler and his father, my rebbe, I came up to Washington Heights from the Lower East Side to take a bechina. It was Dr. Bernard Revel himself who gave us the exam, testimony to his own deep involvement in Yeshiva life as well as to the size of the institution at that time. Unfortunately, that was virtually the only extended personal contact that I had with Yeshiva's first president. He passed away shortly over a year later.

But I was extremely fortunate that, even as a high school student, I heard shiurim from such world famous Torah luminaries, as R. Moshe Aharon Poleyeff (he was later assigned to a college level shiur and I was again blessed to be in his class and to be warmed not only by his Torah by also by the love he radiated to his students), and R. Aaron Burack and R. Moshe Bick, the latter who became the major posek for the Boro Park community after he left Yeshiva.

During my high school years I was only dimly aware that there was a college on the premises. The war in Europe and the increasing involvement of the U.S. involvement in Pearl Harbor and our entry into World War II enveloped everyone, especially those who understood what was happened to our brothers and sisters in Europe. Thus I do not have strong memories of the leadership void and difficult times at Yeshiva following Dr. Revel's passing. It took some three years for Dr. Belkin to be chosen as the second president of Yeshiva in 1943 and by then I was completing my freshman year at Yeshiva College.

The totally enrollment of the college at that time was less than 300 and all of its facilities were housed in the one building on Amsterdam Avenue where I had spent my High School years. There were only two laboratories. One served all biology courses and the other was for chemistry offerings, and they were opposite each other on the fourth floor. There was also a room designated as a physics lab and lecture room. Since I was a major in chemistry, I spent a good part of my collegiate years on that floor. But it seems that Dr. Levine, himself a YC graduate and also taught virtually all the chemistry courses since even required courses were offered only in alternative years, prepared us well because I was not at a disadvantage when I enrolled for graduate work at Brooklyn Polytechnic. The warm personal student-faculty, inter-student relationship and small class size - very important for lab work - made up for the lack of extensive and sophisticated facilities.

One should also note that this warmth pervaded most of the institution. Student aid, for example, extended not only to tuition scholarships but also to weekly food stipends and even to distribution of suits at Passover time to needy students. This was all without government funding.

College courses began at three and, as today, shiur and Beit Midrash busied us until then. In college, as in high school, I was exposed to the best of the best, perhaps the finest group of roshei yeshiva in any institution at that time. There was R. Poleyeff again. And then Yeshiva's president, Dr. Belkin. He always cleared his calendar to offer a regular, brilliant shiur which was marked by precise and clear formulations and appreciations of basic principles. Each shiur lasted exactly one hour and ended with a short summation. My last two years were spent in the shiur of the incomparable and unforgettable Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik about whom so much has been written and will continue to be written as more and more of his teachings become available.

Semikha was a two year post-college program at the time, and one year was usually spent with R. Dovid Lifshitz learning Chullin and the second half in self-study of Yoreh Deah. An oral bechina, administered by the three giants of the Torah world at Yeshiva - R. Moshe Shatzkes, R. Joseph Baer Soloveitchik, and Dr. Samuel Belkin - based on your Yoreh Deah and two tractates of the candidates choosing, was the final daunting task. It was a humbling, frightening experience, but it gave status and dignity to the entire process and the successful recipient of semikha could be provide of his achievement and confident of his scholarship and abilities.

While I was studying for semikha I served as a part-time laboratory assistant in chemistry and I had the pleasure of introducing students to a brand new laboratory, built in another section of the fourth floor. Faculty had been expanded and required courses were now offered every year. In 1950, with the appointment of Dr. Samuel Soloveichik to the chemistry department, I was no longer needed and I left Yeshiva to teach at the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School and to pursue my graduate degree at the Polytechnic.

In 1957 Dr. Belkin called me back to Yeshiva and wanted me to join the newly formed JSS faculty. The interview was really a student-teacher reunion. Indeed, all my life I addressed Dr. Belkin as "rebbe." At it's conclusion he asked me "How much do you make at R.J.J.?" I told him and he said "I'll give you more." Only when I received my first paycheck did I know my salary.

In 1951, after receiving my Masters in Chemistry, Dr. Isaacs, who had been my dean at Yeshiva College and was now teaching chemistry at Stern College, also asked me to join the faculty there in addition to YC. His family arrived in the U.S. early in the nineteenth century and he and his six brothers were brilliant professionals. All seven were deemed worthy of Phi Beta Kappa election, a record which I believe still obtains for that organization. One of his brothers, Nathan Isaacs, a Harvard faculty member, is said to have been considered as a successor to Dr. Revel. Our Dr. Isaacs was a chemist with acknowledged expertise in water chemistry. As YC dean he applied his own high standards and unwavering integrity, characteristics which the fledging college needed as it sought acceptance and recognition. When he came to Stern, he taught me to adopt his approach. I recall finding a worthwhile experiment in a lab manual which we were not using that semester, and I suggested that our students would profit from this exercise and I wanted to copy it and distribute it. He agreed with my evaluation but then gently guided me to the opening page of the manual and the bold letters "copyrighted."

When David Ben-Gurion visited Yeshiva, Dean Isaacs was almost the only one who did not participate as a welcoming official in this ceremony for the noted Premier of Israel. He explained his absence to me: "all my live I've been against what this man stood for (his resignation of religion as a factor in the destiny of the Jewish people in the Land of Israel) and I'm not going to change now by honoring him." He resisted all pressures to award college degrees when all requirements were not fulfilled. His was a totally honest administration.

Dr. Isaac's wife was the first Dean of Students at Stern and during the school year they resided in an apartment in the Stern Residence Hall. They were thus both readily available to students almost all the time.

Those years at Stern came to an end in 1966. Dr. Belkin, reacting to the increasing activism and restlessness of students in American universities which was beginning to affect Yeshiva, asked me to become the first Dean of Undergraduate Students in Yeshiva's history. Dean Samuel Sar had been Dean of Men until his sudden passing in 1962 but his duties did not really involve him with the undergraduate school to a great extent. I was to be responsible for all non-academic programs/activities at the undergraduate schools. To my pleas that the appointment be delayed for a year so that I could finish my doctoral thesis at the Polytechnic, Dr. Belkin replied, simply, "I need you now." I acceded and, as it turned out, gave up any chance for an academic career in chemistry.

To prepare for my new appointment, I had a long session with the Rav seeking guidance and direction on how to deal with religious issues and problems. He, of course, gave me invaluable advice emphasizing one basic principle: "Remember that you are an educator, not a legislator." I was to call upon him a number of times during my tenure as Dean of Students.

I was also anxious to be guided on keeping individual guidance records to preserve confidentiality because I wanted to expand and strengthen our efforts in that area. I went to Boston to spend an afternoon with the master of one of the dormitories at Harvard. He reviewed his processes confirming my own emphasis on preserving confidentiality. When I asked what he would do if he received a court order to surrender student records he replied, "Well, I'd probably have to comply with it, but you can be damn sure I'll be up the night before going through them..." What was established apparently had some value because Dr. Israel Miller, who succeeded me in 1968 with the title of Vice President for Student Affairs, continued the procedures I pioneered.

My two-year appointment as Dean of Students was by and large a period of introduction and acclimation to a new administrative structure in an uncharted area. But it also entailed beginning to cope with a student body which was beginning to reflect the seething student bodies on other campuses. One particular incident stands out. We had received word that students at Columbia were preparing to come uptown to "liberate" Yeshiva. Then YC dean, Dr. Isaac Bacon, fearing physical confrontations arranged to have the local precinct captain on hand in his office to help evaluate potential threats to student safety. A meeting of students was schedule for that evening in Rubin Hall. One of the student leaders who didn't want Columbia on the Yeshiva campus kept those of us who were waiting with Dean Bacon informed, periodically, of the progress of the meeting. Things were a bit tense until our contact came in at 10:00 PM and informed us "they're breaking for Maariv." We now knew that there would be no violence that night and the captain went back to the station house.

In 1968, thanks to a major give by Mr. Jakob Michael obtained through the efforts of the then Professor Norman Lamm, the university recast the Teachers Institute as the Erna Michael College of Hebraic Studies. TI had a new status and focus, and a thoroughly revised curriculum prepared by an outstanding panel of educators who labored for over a year and produced a structured yet innovative set of goals and objectives and the programs to achieve them. This new college would be empowered to award BA and BS degrees in the major fields of Jewish Studies. Its original mission to train teachers was not neglected and, in addition, it provided for a free tuition track for those who committed themselves to enter the field of Jewish education for a minimum four year period. An outstanding faculty was equipped and delighted to take on this challenge, and Dr. Belkin asked me to become a part of this effort by leaving my position of Dean of Students and become the first dean of this new college.

I was succeeding an enormously popular and widely loved director, Dr. Hyman Grinstein, and my appointment was not greeted with universal acclaim. Moreover, the degree granting tracks demanded greater academic rigor and this was not received well by many members of a student body which was accustomed to a more relaxed atmosphere. This, plus the introduction of a written entrance examination for admission and placement combined to decrease enrollment at this new school. But over the years we succeeded in graduating a most respectful number of highly educated men who have made, are making, significant contributions as educators/academicians, and community leaders. We also introduced the first Sephardic Studies Program under the direction of Chacham Solomon Gaon and participated in the introduction of joint-degree programs with BRGS, FGS and WSSW. Our education initiative, however, was not successful because other more attractive career doors opened at this time and these drew more students.

My new position brought me into much closer, almost weekly, contact with Dr. Belkin because there were no layers of administration between us and I wanted to keep him abreast of all developments. I came to idolize him. He had a brilliant mind, a keen memory and a clear understanding of the educational goals he wanted to pursue. With all this he had a realistic understanding of the interface between the school and its constituents: students, faculty, lay leaders, government agencies, and the community at large. Thus, he rejected a proposal, widely advocated at the time, to promote student recruitment for the colleges by sending college teachers to give credit courses at various high schools. "I don't believe in a college on wheels. A college is more than a teacher standing in a classroom. It's a daily interaction in all locals, the library, coffee in the cafeteria, a common club or activity."

He was also against building luxurious dormitory facilities, suggesting that students should spend time in Beit Midrash and library rather than playrooms and lounges. He supported other educational institutions unselfishly; when I complained that a new high school to be opened by a Yeshiva alumnus would impede recruitment, he replied simply: "The sun shines for everyone."

In dealing with government agencies as well as the larger community he was a proud and sharp advocate for Yeshiva and Judaism. I was present at a meeting between Dr. Belkin and a delegation of officials who came from Washington to discuss our admissions policy. One of the visitors said to him: "Now Dr. Belkin, I note your proximity to Harlem. When, and I say when - not if - you admit your fist student from that area, what help are you prepared to offer that minority?" Dr. Belkin replied: "Jews are a minority and have always been a minority, although I know that your office does not classify them as such. But we know what it feels like and when the time comes we will know what to do."

Dr. Belkin never forgot that he was a Rosh Yeshiva by upbringing and training. His attitude towards members of the RIETS faculty was warm and sympathetic. It is true that the RIETS faculty salary scale was, by and large, lower than other faculties. This was due to the unrelenting financial pressures which always plagued Yeshiva. If one had to adhere to a market salary schedule to obtain qualified professors then there was no choice if quality education was to be provided. Yeshiva, which did not practice nepotism in employment, had a large pool of outstanding Roshei Yeshiva to choose from and this dictated a lower range to relieve the overall pressure on the institution.

But, in return for this sacrifice, Roshei Yeshiva enjoyed far greater job security. They were freed from the uncertainties of the academic world and did not live in a "Publish or Perish" atmosphere. Nor did they undergo periodic evaluation by peers, in tenure reviews by internal and external academicians. I do not recall any appointed Rosh Yeshiva who was released by Dr. Belkin.

Moreover, Dr. Belkin sometimes withstood great pressure from lay leaders to end this practice. I recall an emergency meeting to deal with a financial crisis at which one prominent Yeshiva lay leaders, a prince of a man and a close friend of Dr. Belkin, called out to him - in the presence of senior administration and board member - "Dr. Belkin, we must cut down on our Yeshiva faculty. If you can't fire them then send them to me and I'll fire them." On another occasion, a similar request for cutbacks was turned back when Dr. Belkin sent in a letter of resignation after the meeting. When an astonished board member asked why, Dr. Belkin replied that he could not serve as a heard of a faculty subject to such conditions. And that was the end of it.

And these feelings extended to individual faculty. With tears in his eyes he instructed me "always answer telephone calls." It seems that a Rosh Yeshiva had tried to reach him the day before but Dr. Belkin was in a series of meetings and he was unavailable. The next day when he was able to return the call he was devastated to learn that "he needed me. His wife was in the hospital."

With all of the above Dr. Belkin was also blessed with a sharp and ready wit which sometimes was able to defect or mitigate objections or resentment. To the interviewer from Time magazine who asked him at the age of 31 "aren't you rather young to be a college president?" he replied: "It's a fault which grows smaller with each passing second." When a Rosh Yeshiva came in to tell him that his daughter, fresh out of college, got a job with IBM at a salary which exceeded his, Dr. Belkin replied: "Tell her that her president also makes more than your president." And when Dr. William Foxwell Albright, a non-Jew and one of the most distinguished archaeologists and historians of the Ancient Near East, was awarded an honorary degree at Yeshiva, Dr. Belkin greeted him and inquired about his health. He complained that his eyes were troubling him and this was hampering his work. I heard Dr. Belkin's immediate response: "Dr. Albright, there may be something wrong with your sight but there's nothing wrong with your vision."

His crowning characteristic, of course, was his humility. He even disclaimed the trappings of his office - the car, apartment, office furnishings, etc. Once, when his grandson's application to an activity on faculty (I forgot which) was somehow held up, Dr. Belkin asked me to find out what was wrong, and said: "Tell them I'll pay. I'll pay."

As the university grew its budget and obligations expanded far beyond available resources he opined that he lived by "divine optimism." And he would instruct a loyal Sheldon Socol: "Dr. Socol, you go home and get a good night's sleep. There's no sense in both of us being up all night."

But with all his hard work and total dedication Dr. Belkin could not attenuate a deepening crisis. In the early seventies, Dr. A. Leo Levin, a vice president and trusted aide to Dr. Belkin, called me into his office to tell me that he was returning to his post at the University of Pennsylvania, but that before he left he was asking me to take on a "nasty" assignment: The university could no longer rely on individual departments and schools to cut their own budgets, and a university wide budget committee was to be formed. This committee, which he asked me to chair, would be mandated to propose and implement reductions throughout the university, other than at AECOM which was to have its own committee. It is always difficult to cut budgets, consolidate departments and eliminate offices. It is excruciatingly difficult when one deals, as we had to do, with a relatively small circle of administrators who are your friends and for whom you fare the highest regard. But we set ourselves to gather data, decide priorities and, after months of meetings with all parties achieved what we judged to be equitable reductions in budgets based on perceived priorities.

Scars of that process remains. And although the broadest reductions were made in non-academic areas and in schools which were deemed to be secondary to the university's mission, the faculties of the undergraduate colleges, which were given the highest priority, were deeply upset and hurt by some remedies which were considered. These feelings led to a diminution of campus collegiality and faculty began to view themselves as employees rather than colleagues.

As the crisis continued, Dr. Belkin, debilitated by illness, discouraged by the disregard of funds and donors to Israeli causes which caused a serious drop in fundraising for Yeshiva, wearied of the university struggle, decided that he could no longer contribute as he did heretofore and he resigned the presidency in 1975.

An executive committee was formed to administer the university on a daily basis. The Board of Trustees then decided to empower a university-wide search committee to identify and recommend candidates to succeed Dr. Belkin. The committee had fifty-three members and every constituency was represented. The Chairman of the Board, Mr. Max Etra, asked me to chair this committee. A recent book about Dr. Belkin alleged that two friends of Dr. Belkin helped him draw up a "short list" of possible candidates from which his successor was named. Our committee did not receive, nor was it guided, in any measure, shape, or form, by such a list. It did initiate an international search, contacting agencies and institutions as well as academicians and community leaders. It also directly solicited nominations from fifty seven presidents of academic institutions. Internally, faculty, administrators, students and alumni were approached by various means. This search was as thorough as we could make it.

More than a hundred responses were received and almost sixty nominations were presented. A working committee of fifteen, representing all constituencies of the larger search committee, analyzed all nominations using an evaluation chart of thirty-three criteria to quantify rankings. After many meetings of the working committee the number of nominees was reduced to eight whose names were presented to the full search committee. Of these, three declined to be considered and the conditions set by one nominee could not be met.

After a series of interviews and re-interviews two candidates emerged as recommended by the committee. All in all between December 1975 and July 1976 there were seventeen meetings of the working committee and none of the full search committee.

At a final meeting in July 1976 the full committee approved a written report which I presented for transmission to the board. This was to be supplemented by another report, also approved by the committee, to be delivered orally.

I did so on July 14, 1976. The reports were well received. In August, the board elected Dr. Norman Lamm, one of the two recommended by the committee.

I do not know if Dr. Lamm was on the alleged "short list." But I doubt that such a list existed. I had made a private visit to Dr. Belkin in his hospital early in 1976 and I sought to benefit from his expertise and wisdom. I asked him directly if he had any guidelines to recommend to me. Mrs. Belkin was the only other person in the room and, because of our relationship, Dr. Belkin knew that I would respect a request for confidentiality should he decide to share something with me. There was no recommendation. Only a blessing, which I shall always cherish as these were his last words to me.

The new president brought his own style and strengths to the office. On the academic front, after a period of study, he revamped the traditional departments and divisions to cut across school lines. Student interest in Judaic Studies was helped by this change because interschool cross registration was now much easier. Faculty were also able to divide their course loads among different schools and campuses when invited to do so. Consolidation of administrative offices simplified schedule and program preparation. Lines of administrative responsibility were clarified.

But in my view, Dr. Lamm's greatest overall contribution was putting Yeshiva's financial business in order. The new president, after surviving a nightmarish brush with an imminent bankruptcy, had no choice by to devote most of his time and energy to fundraising. He was rewarded with striking, historic, success. When he took office Yeshiva was about seventy million dollars in debt. When he left, the endowment stood at about one billion dollars. This is an awesome, unbelievable achievement. Thus I think it is fair to say that if Samuel Belkin built Yeshiva, Norman Lamm saved it.

Of course Dr. Lamm's presidency is marked by other accomplishments. He provided dignified leadership and his brilliant representation of Yeshiva to academic and lay communities through his speeches and writings helped Yeshiva grow and promoted the vital "Friends. Funds. Freshman" concepts which Sam Hartstein, the venerable publicist of Yeshiva, used to emphasize. These facts are well known and need not be reviewed again here.

But, in all fairness, I would like to record that I believe that an important contribution to the successful attainment of financial stability at Yeshiva is Sheldon Socol. His indefatigable efforts on behalf of the institution which he truly loves, the skills which he brings to his work, recognized and admired by the lawyers, bankers and financiers who have dealt with Yeshiva, contributed mightily to Dr. Lamm's success. I write this even as I note that I have often fought with him over what I thought were his false perspectives on the mission of Yeshiva and the role of faculty. There were times that I complained heatedly that his proper rile was to carry out policy, not to make it. But, on balance, he was a vital part of the infrastructure at Yeshiva these many years.

My own administrative involvement with Yeshiva ended when I resigned as Dean of Undergraduate Jewish Studies in 1989 and I returned to my first love, teaching. I spent ten wonderful years in the classroom and, in my retirement, I miss my daily interaction with the bright, wonderful, sometimes meddling, Yeshiva students who are the future of our people.


Rabbi Jacob Rabinowitz, YC '46, RIETS '48, has held many administrative posts at Yeshiva and is currently an emeritus professor of Talmud. Upon his retirement, Rabbi Rabinowitz was awarded an honorary degree from Yeshiva.