Meet the Oldest Printed Book in the National Library!
Printed in Rome, this book was once part of an Italian prince's library. Years later it made its way to Argentina, and eventually to Israel. The tome is now over 550 years old...
The oldest printed book in the National Library collections, from 1469
The National Library of Israel collections include thousands of rare books from a plethora of countries, most of which were printed hundreds of years ago. About 300 of them were published during the Incunabulum period, the term used to denote the first 50 years of printing history, between 1450-1500. Printing was introduced to Europe around 1450 by Johannes Gutenberg in Mainz, Germany. One of the first books Gutenberg and his publishers printed was the Biblia Gutenberga, which contained both the Old and New Testaments in Latin. The book was well received thanks to the high quality print of the sacred text and the relatively large number of copies produced. Around 50 copies have survived to this day and they are considered extremely rare and valuable. A single page from one of the copies printed between 1450-1455 is preserved in the National Library of Israel.
Printing technology spread rapidly. First in Germany – by the year 1500 there were already some 300 printing presses up and running in different locations across the country. Other European nations soon followed suit: Printing began in Italy in 1464, a year later the Netherlands followed, while France received the new technology in 1469. In 1473, books began to be printed in Spain, and then in England in 1476. Often, the printing pioneers in these countries were German experts who had studied and operated presses in their homeland, and then immigrated to other parts of Europe to establish new printing houses.
The rapid expansion of printing houses across the known world led to the First Knowledge Revolution. Christian religious books were the most commonly printed literature in the early days of the printing press, but philosophical works and even popular literature found their way onto the presses as well.
European Jews also recognized the advantages of printing. By the 1470s production of Hebrew books in Italy and Spain had begun. In most cases, the editions were relatively limited in quantity. The first books, released in batches of only 200 to 300 copies, were quite expensive.
Among the incunabula preserved in the National Library of Israel is a copy containing several ancient philosophical texts, all originally composed in the second century CE. It contains essays by Lucius Apuleius Madaurensis, “Hermes Trismegistus” (there was no such author in truth, this was a later given name for an author or multiple authors active in the 2nd-century), and Albinus Platonicus. Printed in the city of Rome by Konrad Sweynheim and Arnold Pannartz (a German pair who had immigrated to Italy) in 1469, this marked the first time that the philosophical texts were printed.
The printing of this book, as according to the colophon (the author or printer note that usually appears at the end of a book), was completed on February 28th, 1469. This precise, recorded date helped us to determine that this is the oldest printed book in the National Library of Israel’s collection.
Lucii Apuleii Platonici Madaure[n]sis philosophi Metamorphoseos liber
As was customary during this period, typesetters left room for the first initials of passages or chapters to be added in later. Book purchasers could then take the book to a professional illustrator to add colored letters, which often transformed the books into fascinating works of art. However, in our copy, these places remained empty. On the other hand, there were at least two owners of the book through the centuries who filled the tome with many handwritten footnotes.
We can reconstruct some of the history of the book via the various seals and the ex-libris. For a certain period at the end of the 18th century, it was part of the library of Prince Marco Borghese of Italy. At the beginning of the 20th-century, it was owned by the collector Marcel Schlimovcz. For a period of time, it was kept in the Jewish community library in Argentina. The book was then donated to the National Library around 40 years ago.
On October 12th, 1898, the visionary of the State, Binyamin Ze’ev (Theodor) Herzl, embarked on a journey to the Land of Israel in order to advance his great dream- a Jewish state for the Jewish People.
Throughout his journey, Herzl sent regular postcards and letters to his family. The one-of-a-kind collection of correspondence is housed at the National Library of Israel. The collection features brief greetings, written on postcards, sent to his eight-year-old daughter Paulina, from various stops along the journey.
The inscriptions on each of the postcards are brief, containing one or two sentences in Herzl’s handwriting. But the poignant words shed light on Herzl’s great love for his daughter and his desire to update her on the progress of his trip and reassure her that everything was fine.
The first postcard in the series was sent from Constantinople, soon to become Istanbul. The postcard is dated October 15th, 1898:
“Tender kisses to my delicate daughter Paulina from her faithful Papa”
Herzl had timed his journey to the Holy Land to coincide with a visit by the German Emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II. The Zionist visionary hoped to discuss the particulars of a future Jewish homeland with the Kaiser. On the same day on which he sent the above postcard, Herzl wrote the following in his personal journal:
“I have discussed the conditions we should put forth with Bodenheimer [a member of the delegation which accompanied Herzl]. The border of the region: from the river of Egypt to the Euphrates. To stipulate a transitional period with independent institutions. A Jewish governor for the transitional period. When the (Jewish) population in a certain area reaches two-thirds of the total population, the administration, from a political standpoint, will become a Jewish administration.”
Five days later, on October 20th, Herzl wrote to his daughter from Smyrna, the Turkish port city of Izmir:
“Many tender kisses from Asia Minor to my good daughter Paulina, from her faithful Papa”
Herzl, already in Athens the very next day, wrote:
“Tender kisses from Greece to my delicate daughter Paulina from her faithful Papa”
The journey stretched on, and on October 29th, reached its climax – the meeting with Kaiser Wilhelm II at Mikveh Yisrael in Jerusalem. Herzl hoped that, with his help, he might receive a special charter for the establishment of a Jewish state from the Turkish Sultan. A cameraman from Herzl’s delegation was supposed to capture the historic moment, but the amateur photographer missed the photo-op to Herzl’s great disappointment…
The next day Herzl wrote again to Paulina, this time in a postcard celebrating his meeting with the Kaiser:
“To my good Paulina, tender kisses are sent to you from your faithful Papa in Jerusalem”
The next day, Herzl sent yet another postcard, this time with a picture of Hebron, on which he wrote:
“Kisses from your faithful Papa“
“If I remember you in the future, Jerusalem, not with pleasure will I remember you,” Herzl wrote in his journal on October 31st, “The moldy residues of two thousand years of cruelty, intolerance, and filth lie in the stinking streets. If we ever get Jerusalem, and if it is within my ability, I will clean it first. I shall remove everything that is not sacred, I shall set up housing for laborers outside of the city, I shalI empty out the nests of filth, destroy them, burn those ruins which are not sacred, and the bazaars I shall move to another place. Preserving the old building style as much as possible, I will erect a modern, convenient, clean and functioning city around the holy sites.“
Thanks to Dr. Gil Weissblei of the Archives Department for his assistance in the research and preparation of this article.
The Secret Nazi Documents Captured in a British Commando Raid
Confidential papers seized during a British special-forces raid in Norway in 1941 offer a glimpse into the inner workings of Nazi military occupation. They were originally published that same year by the British Government.
British officers with a captured Nazi flag after the raid on the Lofoten Islands, photo by Capt. Tennyson d'Eyncourt, British War Office official photographer.
Leafing through the frayed pages of the old, brown booklet, one large German word, its letters appearing in dark, bold print, jumps out at the reader : GEHEIM!…Secret!
These papers were not meant to be seen by unauthorized personnel. They relay instructions from high ranking German officers in the Wehrmacht to rank and file soldiers engaged in the occupation of Norway. The language is laconic and to-the-point, as befits military documents, but there can be no mistake: The instructions were written in the spirit of National Socialism.
The orders appearing in the booklet essentially form a brief, practical manual on how to take over a democratic country and suppress its population.
The story of this stash of confidential German military documents takes us back to the early stages of World War II. The Miracle at Dunkirk, where over 300,000 soldiers were barely evacuated to safety, was still fresh in the memory of the British population. France, Belgium, Holland, Poland, Denmark and Norway were all already under the Nazi boot. British Prime Minister Winston Churchill was preparing his country for the long and difficult fight ahead. The situation was dire and the national mood was grim.
This was the setting for Operation Claymore: a large-scale raid by British special-forces on the Norwegian Lofoten Islands in 1941.
In the early morning hours of March 4th, hundreds of British commandos quietly entered the Vestfjorden. They immediately set about destroying German-controlled ships, some of them laden with thousands of tons of cargo. The main objective of this mission, however, was something else: fish oil. This substance was being shipped at a rapid pace from Norway to Germany, where glycerin would be extracted from the oil to be used in the production of powerful explosives. Around 800,000 imperial gallons of fish oil were set alight during Operation Claymore as the commandos descended upon factory after factory.
Burning oil tanks as seen from the British destroyer HMS Legion, photo by Lt. R.G.G. Coote, Royal Navy official photographer.
The Germans were caught by surprise – 228 prisoners of war were captured in the operation. In addition, the ranks of the free Norwegian forces were strengthened by 300 volunteers who jumped at the chance to join the war against fascism, boarding the British ships as they began their return voyage. Perhaps most importantly – the commandos managed to seize the rotor wheels of an Enigma cypher machine and several code books, which would help Allied ships to avoid German U-boats for some time.
“My congratulations on the very satisfactory operation” wrote Churchill in a memo addressed to all those involved after their safe return. The large British force had suffered only one injury. The operation provided a badly needed boost for Allied morale and the Norwegian volunteers proved “that the people of the Occupied Territories were still spiritually with us in the fight.”
Fires burning in Stamsund, Lofoten, Norway as British commandos leave. Photo by Capt. Tennyson d’Eyncourt, British War Office official photographer.
There was another interesting find among the items seized in the raid: German documents captured at the military Harbor Control Post at Svolvaer. These secret papers addressed to German soldiers stationed in Norway provided a glimpse into the nature of Nazi military occupation and what life was like under it. The documents were quickly translated and published in the form of a small booklet by the British government that same year. A rare copy of the booklet, complete with facsimiles of the original documents in German, has recently been found in the archives of the National Library of Israel.
The papers show that the Norwegian people did not make things easy for their German occupiers: “Appearances would indicate that the temper and attitude of the Norwegian population have recently stiffened against our endeavors” wrote General Nikolaus von Falkenhorst, the commander of German forces in Norway in one of the documents.
A facsimile of the first page of General Nikolaus von Falkenhorst’s letter to his troops, as it appears in the booklet published by the British Government, from the National Library collections.A facsimile of the second page of General von Falkenhorst’s letter, as it appears in the booklet, from the National Library collections.
When Hitler notified von Falkenhorst that he was to be in charge of the invasion of the Scandinavian country, the Nazi leader ordered the general to have a basic plan ready by 5 pm that same day. On the way back to his hotel, with no time to consult military charts, von Falkenhorst stopped by a local shop and purchased a Baedeker tourist guidebook of Norway. He planned the invasion in his room that afternoon using the maps in the tourist book. Hitler promptly approved the plan.
Svolvaer, Lofoten, Norway, 2010, photo by Vincent van Zeijst.
In his written address to his troops, the general surprisingly called for calm in the face of Norwegian stubbornness: “…it has become necessary, and it is more than ever urged, that restraint and caution be exercised.” Von Falkenhorst ordered his soldiers to avoid all political discussions or controversies (these matters were the responsibility of the Gestapo, not the army). But there was less tolerance whenever a threat emerged against troops or army property: “In such cases […] Military force should be brought into action in its full severity […] where action is taken it must be ruthless and employ the severest measures“.
Left to right: Vidkun Quisling, Heinrich Himmler, Reichskommissar Josef Terboven and General von Falkenhorst in Norway, 1941. Photo: German Federal Archives.
A separate document from the collection offers a string of examples of various possible “offences” by the local population, along with the acceptable response to be taken by German soldiers.
Offence:
A German National is insulted or struck because he is German.
Measure to be taken by the Wehrmacht:
Provisional arrest of the culprit if he is caught in the act.
Offence:
A local commander is informed on a Wednesday that on the previous Tuesday a German National was struck.
Measure to be taken by the Wehrmacht:
Report to Security Police (Gestapo).
Offence:
A Norwegian girl of friendly disposition towards Germans has her hair cut short.
Measure to be taken by the Wehrmacht:
Provisional arrest of the culprit, but only if caught in the act, or if strongly suspected of attempting to escape. In other cases report to the Security Police.
Offence
Public statements by fortune tellers or members of sects derogatory to Germany.
Measure to be taken by the Wehrmacht:
In cases of serious insults, for example, in respect of the Fuehrer, provisional arrest, otherwise report to the Security Police.
Offence:
Subversive preaching by Ministers of Religion either in the pulpit or at the graveside.
Measure to be taken by the Wehrmacht:
Particular restraint and caution necessary. In all cases only report to the Security Police.
We can see from the above that even those who were merely suspected of even the slightest offence against the German occupiers would soon attract the attention of the Security Police, the Gestapo, which did not bode well for those under suspicion.
Another document makes clear that “All political parties in Norway, together with all branch and subsidiary organisations are dissolved and forbidden […] the Nasjonal-Samling, with its affiliated branches and organisations, is the only exception to these prohibitions. Its activity is subject to no restrictions.“
Vidkun Quisling, founder of the Nasjonal Samling party, whose name has become synonymous with the word ‘traitor’. Photo: the National Archives of Norway.
The Nasjonal Samling was a far-right Norwegian political party that had never been able to gain even a single seat in the Storting, the Norwegian parliament. The German army however, was ordered to aid its transformation: “No difficulties, either of a personal nature or of organization, must be allowed to obstruct the granting of every aid in building up the Nasjonal Samling.” The party’s founder, Vidkun Quisling, was appointed Minister-President of Norway by the German authorities in 1942. He would serve in that role until the final Nazi defeat more than three years later. To this day, the world “quisling” is synonymous with “traitor” in several languages. Knut Hamsun, the Nobel Prize winning author, was another of the few Norwegian Nazi sympathists, who even eulogized Adolf Hitler after his death.
A facsimile of a German document which details how the Norwegian press was to be handled under the Nazi occupation, as it appears in the booklet, from the National Library collections.
One of the most interesting documents in the collection relates to the handling of the local Norwegian press, which was ordered to “publish only such news as is designed to further, or at least not to hinder, the policy of the German Reich“.
Here are some of the specific directives included in the document:
German and Italian official communiques must be published daily and, wherever possible, on the front page.
The greatest care must be taken in publishing every sort of report that it contains nothing that might lead to unrest among the population in any way.
All reference to former political questions in Norway (the question of the King, the Nygaardsvold Government, the Party System, Trade Unions &c.) is forbidden.
In publishing German news and news from countries with which Germany is at war, preference has to be given to German news. This extends to typography as well (make-up, head-lines, size of type, etc.).
Weather reports are absolutely forbidden. In this category are included weather surveys dating back over long periods, damage through bad weather, lightning, temperature, snowfall, and indirect reference to weather in sporting news.
Reports on economic matters, regardless of whether they are short announcements or detailed surveys, must avoid showing the slightest negative tendency.
When reporting on domestic politics in Norway:
All attacks on the German authorities, either in direct or veiled form, must be suppressed.
The following reminder to encourage an optimistic and happy atmosphere was also included:
Editorial staff cannot be too often prompted not merely to write in the sense of their instructions without comment, but to adopt a positive attitude, i.e. in their articles Editors must give full support to measures taken in Norwegian domestic politics and express themselves in a positive sense.
In conclusion, the document adds:
The above outlines should form the subject of intensive oral instructions to editors. In no circumstances must these instructions be made public, nor must the fact that such instructions have been given to editors become known in any way. Editors should, however, make notes while they are receiving oral instructions.
The document is signed “Dr. Ehmer, Captain, Army Press officer.“
Amy Simon, a cataloguer in the National Library’s Foreign Languages Department, contributed to this article.
A Memory of the Last Jews of Yemen
In the 1980s, photographer, painter and poet Myriam Tangi took three separate trips to Yemen in the hopes of photographing the last Jews living in the country.
Three young Jewish boys studying, Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983. In the middle is Lewi Faez, who was around 6 years old at the time. He arrived in Israel in 1992 at the age of 16, with his 14 year-old wife and an infant. Photo by Myriam Tangi.
According to legend, Jewish history in Yemen dates back to the time of King Solomon and the request of the Queen of Sheba to see Hebrew craftsmen settle in her country. Indeed, some historians identify Sheba with the ancient Kingdom of Saba in the southern Arabian Peninsula. More recently, in 1949-50, about 49,000 Yemeni Jews were brought to the nascent State of Israel on secret flights during Operation Magic Carpet. As of 2017, it was believed that there remain approximately 50 Jews in the entirety of the country with most of them living in in a compound adjacent to the American Embassy in Sana’a, Yemen’s largest city and its capital.
As non-Muslims living in an Arabic country, the Jews of Yemen, one of the most ancient Jewish communities in the diaspora, were considered dhimmi, which literally means, “protected class.” As dhimmi, Jews had certain rights but also had to contend with a number of restrictions, including limits on their freedom of movement – For example, Jews were only permitted to travel within Yemen and could not venture beyond the borders of the country.
Visits to these regions by foreigners were extremely rare, meaning the villagers were just as curious as the tourists. The boy with the book in the foreground, who refused to stop reading for the sake of the picture, was an exception. Al-Hajar, near Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi
The Jews of Yemen were also forbidden from carrying the djambiha, a dagger-like sword carried by all Yemenite Muslim men around the waist. This restriction clearly indicated who among the men was not Muslim. Jews were restricted to certain crafts: jewelry making, leather working, shoe repair and metal works. Jewish women were permitted to weave baskets to sell at market.
Yemenite Jews were not allowed to own land and were under the protection of the sheikh of the village or the city where they lived. This meant that the sheikh was responsible for their safety and was obligated by law to protect them. The relationship between the community and the sheikh was often warm and sometimes even friendly.
A Jewish woman working. Yemen, 1986, photo by Myriam TangiJewish men in Al-Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1984, photo by Myriam Tangi
In the 1980s, we set out on a journey to photograph the last few remaining Yemenite Jewish communities that were scattered throughout the country. There were at the time, approximately 300 to 400 Jews left in Yemen and only a few foreigners had travelled through this remote country at the tip of the Arabian Peninsula.
We made our way to different villages across the country including Beit Sinan in the Arhab district, about an hour north of Sana’a, the capital. The villages closer to Sana’a had stricter rules for code of dress. The Jewish women in the far off villages did not wear full niqabs, which covered the whole body, like the Muslim women did. Instead, they wore veils that covered only their heads. But as we drew nearer to the capital, the veils grew larger and women were expected to cover more. Muslims could enter Jewish homes at any moment, except on Shabbat.
We also travelled in a big truck through the steep roads of the mountainous regions to reach yet un-explored villages such as Al-Hajar, near Haydan and west of Sa’dah, a large city located in northern Yemen. The village of Wadi Amla was another destination; both are not far from the border of Saudi Arabia.
We were traveling as tourists. We made no mention of our Jewish identities for our own safety and for the safety of the local Jews. We were allowed to visit with the Jewish communities as we said we were looking to buy jewelry – a trade held by the local Jews. We also mentioned that we were vegetarians which gave us an opportunity to join a Jewish family for a meal. Not all of these small and dispersed Jewish communities had their own synagogues. We understood from our interactions with a particular community that one family owned a Torah scroll and that other Jews would gather in this family’s home for prayer services, as it was forbidden to visit the local synagogue.
Beit Sinan, Arhab, Yemen, 1986. In the mufredj (living room) the mori (teacher) prepares tzitziyot (ritual tassels) while the children study and a mother feeds her infant. The child on the right is supervising the others. In the foreground we see a hookah. A cooking pot can be seen in the middle of the room, meals are eaten while sitting around the pot on the floor. Photo by Myriam TangiA Jewish girl (left) and a Muslim girl (right), Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi
These photos are a testament to the peaceful lives led by the Jews of Yemen at that time. The children would spend their days studying with their Mori, a teacher chosen by the community, or with their father who would multitask in maintaining control over the reading and studying while working. Since there was usually only one copy to read from, the local children often developed the ability to read a book from any angle.
A Jewish girl (left) and a Muslim girl (right), Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam TangiYemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi
While the situation in Yemen has changed, just a few decades ago this same country, which was so detached from the modern, Western way of life, gave us the impression of traveling back to biblical times, and allowed us to experience a different rhythm of life, typified by laid-back afternoons spent chewing Khat leaves.
This series of photographs has been recognized by the IPA (International Photography Awards) organization.
This post was written as part of Gesher L’Europa, the NLI’s initiative to connect with Europe and make our collections available to diverse audiences in Europe and beyond.
