On February 22, 1948, a massive explosion shook Ben-Yehuda Street in central Jerusalem. A truck bomb destroyed three buildings and killed some sixty people. The following day, a man could be seen kneeling amid the ruins, gathering charred, bloodstained pages from what remained of the \u201cDarom\u201d bookshop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was the shop\u2019s owner himself \u2013 Michel Yitzhak Rabinowitz.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rabinowitz was born in 1879 in the town of Mir, then within the Russian Empire. He had always been a man of words. As a young man, he was already known as a prodigy. He studied at the yeshivas of Telz and Slabodka and received rabbinic ordination. At the same time, he was among the early members of the Zionist movement, and articles he wrote were published in the Hebrew press of Eastern Europe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After his marriage, he moved to Minsk, where he began dealing in new and antiquarian books at the shop of his father-in-law, Meir Heilperin. But books were not merely \u201cmerchandise,\u201d and before long the shop had become a lively cultural center, attracting young people and intellectuals from throughout the surrounding area. When he was not at the shop, Rabinowitz was active in several Jewish and Zionist organizations. This activity led to his repeated arrests and eventually to his dismissal from his position as a lecturer at the government-run teachers\u2019 seminary for Yiddish teachers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In 1925, a few months after the death of his wife, Rabinowitz immigrated to the Land of Israel with his three daughters and settled in Jerusalem. By one means or another, he managed to bring his private library out of Russia with him \u2013 a remarkable collection of manuscripts and rare books that became the foundation of the \u201cDarom\u201d bookshop he opened on Ben-Yehuda Street. The inspiration for the new shop\u2019s name came from the Talmudic dictum pointing people who seek wisdom towards the position of the Menorah in the holy Temple. \u201cOne who wishes to become wise should turn southward.\u201d The shop offered Jerusalemites an impressive selection of old and new books, displaying sacred texts alongside works of literature and general learning.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/screenshot-2026-06-15-083706.jpg\")
As in Minsk, the shop soon became a place of pilgrimage for scholars, writers, and intellectuals, while Rabinowitz himself became deeply involved in the cultural and literary life of the Yishuv. He gave a regular Saturday lecture on Maimonides at Yeshurun Synagogue, spoke on a wide range of subjects on the \u201cKol Yerushalayim\u201d radio station, and was active in numerous organizations, including the Me\u1e33it\u1e93e Nirdamim Society, which continues to this day to publish scholarly editions of foundational works and rare texts from the Jewish literary canon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One Jerusalemite, the writer S. Y. Agnon, who was a friend of Rabinowitz, eulogized him in these words:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe late Rabbi Michel Rabinowitz was an exceptional scholar, well versed in every corner of Torah. There was no area of Torah that he did not engage with. Old and new books were always open before him, at every time and every hour\u2026 He, too, had original Torah insights, but he never committed them to writing\u2026 I said to him, \u2018Write your words in a book and publish them in print.\u2019 He stretched out his hand toward all the books that filled the shelves of his shop and pointed to them, as though saying: \u2018Who am I to come after them?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A unique figure, with one foot firmly planted in the Lithuanian yeshiva world and the other in the worlds of Jewish enlightenment and Zionism, Rabinowitz maintained an extensive correspondence throughout his life with rabbis, writers, and intellectuals from across the Jewish world. His archive was deposited at the National Library by his daughters in 1985, offering a rare window into the lives, thoughts, and struggles of the people of his time.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/picture1-429x600-1.jpg\")
The Rabbi<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\nOne of the central figures in Rabinowitz\u2019s correspondence was Rabbi Yehezkel Abramsky, a leading rabbi of Lithuania, who would later serve as a rabbi in London and Jerusalem. The letters focus primarily on Rabinowitz\u2019s efforts to bring Rabbi Abramsky\u2019s writings, Hazon Yehezkel<\/em>, to print, as well as on attempts to arrange his departure from Soviet Russia, where he felt isolated and cut off from the world of Torah, and where he faced a very real threat, if not to his life, then at least to his freedom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cAfter all, your shop also serves as a meeting place for scholars and students of Torah,\u201d Rabbi Abramsky wrote to Rabinowitz in a 1928 letter preserved at the National Library. \u201cSurely your ears have heard various opinions there concerning my book Hazon Yehezkel<\/em>. I, sitting here alone and isolated within four cubits of Torah, wish to know whether there are those who seek to praise this sacred work, which is the passion of my life. And if they seek to criticize it, for what reason and from what perspective do they speak? [\u2026] Perhaps my book has received no attention at all from the scholars of the Land of Israel? For worse than those who praise or criticize is the one who does not examine it at all. [\u2026] Forgive me, my friend, if I have wearied you this time with my words. I simply have no one with whom to discuss this matter, and so I have poured out my thoughts before you. After all, you alone, and no one else, have taken an interest in my work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/screenshot-2026-06-15-081847.jpg\")
From Rabbi Abramsky\u2019s letter to Michel Rabinowitz<\/a>, preserved in the Michel Rabinowitz Archive at the National Library of Israel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nAs persecution by the Communist authorities intensified, Rabbi Abramsky sought to leave Russia. Rabinowitz appealed on his behalf to the leaders of the moshava of Petah Tikva, who were, at the time, looking to appoint a new rabbi. In the correspondence concerning these efforts, a poignant human moment emerges: Rabbi Abramsky asked the leaders of the moshava about the circumstances of the widow of the previous rabbi, Rabbi Yisrael Abba Citron (a copy of the letter Rabbi Abramsky sent to the leaders of the moshava was enclosed with his letter to Michel Rabinowitz):<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt would give me great pleasure to know how secure the situation is of the rabbanit, widow of the late rabbi. My heart is, of course, confident in your noble spirit and kindness, that you have surely shown compassion toward both the living and the departed. [\u2026] Surely, my dear friends, you have seen fit to put her mind at ease in this matter, so that, God forbid, she should not have to worry about her livelihood in her widowhood. And when I, too, know the details of this matter and that all is well, my peace of mind will be complete.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Widowed Rabbanit<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\nRabbi Yisrael Abba Citron (Kitroni) was born in Daugavpils and attended both a heder<\/em> and elementary school as a child. At the age of fourteen, he left his parents\u2019 home to study at the yeshivas of Telz and Volozhin. Upon his return, he married Rachel, the daughter of Rabbi Yosef Rozen, known as the \u201cGenius of Rogachov.\u201d Although he received offers to serve as rabbi in major European cities, in 1911 (Hebrew year 5671) he chose instead to settle in the small moshava of Petah Tikva, saying, \u201cBetter to be a rabbi in a small village in the Land of Israel than in a great city abroad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/screenshot-2026-06-15-084753.jpg\")
Rabbi Citron\u2019s business card from his tenure as rabbi of Petah Tikva.<\/a> From the Levi Yitzhak Schneerson Archive, the National Library of Israel. This item is part of the Reinhard-Po\u028bmbronski Collection documenting the early history of Zionism, and was made accessible with the support of Eli and Janet Reinhard.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nRabbi Citron served as rabbi of Petah Tikva for approximately seventeen years and died suddenly in 1927, at the age of just forty-six. He and his wife, Rachel, had no children, and under Jewish law, Rachel was therefore required to undergo halitzah<\/em> with one of his brothers before she could remarry.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBut as if the pain of childlessness and the death of her husband were not enough, the brothers refused to perform halitzah<\/em>. Both had abandoned the Jewish way of life: one had converted to Christianity, while the other, who did not believe and observed no religious way of life, lived in Bolshevik Russia. They may have disagreed about many things, but on one matter they were in complete agreement: they opposed the religious rite of halitzah<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAnd so the widowed rabbanit remained an agunah<\/em>, unable to remarry and without a source of income.<\/p>\n\n\n\nWhen Rabbi Abramsky learned of Rabbi Citron\u2019s death, he was deeply concerned for his widow. Above all, he wanted to ensure that his arrival to serve as the town\u2019s rabbi would not undermine the community\u2019s support for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Epilogue<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\nIn the end, Rabbi Abramsky\u2019s appointment as rabbi of the Petah Tikva moshava did not come to pass. The Soviet authorities refused to grant him an exit visa, and he was arrested on charges of \u201canti-Soviet activity\u201d \u2013 meaning, his desire to immigrate to the Land of Israel. After considerable efforts and pressure brought to bear by religious leaders across the Jewish world \u2013 from Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinski to Chaim Nachman Bialik \u2013 Rabbi Abramsky was released on condition that he leave the Soviet Union permanently. The terms of his release were acceptable to all concerned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rabbi Abramsky was deported to Latvia, and only many months later were his wife and two of their children able to join him. His two eldest sons remained behind for many more years, a source of anguish documented in numerous letters the rabbi wrote to Michel Rabinowitz, many of which are also preserved in the archive. In the winter of 1931, Rabbi Abramsky settled in London, where he served as a rabbi for approximately twenty years. Only in 1951, following his retirement, did he immigrate to Israel and settle in Jerusalem.<\/p>\n\n\n
\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/nnl-ephemera11428504170005171-ie5702469-fl6287026.jpg\")
Poster announcing Rabbi Abramsky\u2019s arrival in the Land of Israel<\/a>, from the Pavezner Collection, the National Library of Israel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nRabbanit Citron remained an agunah<\/em> for the rest of her life. The halitzah<\/em> case sparked a halakhic debate concerning the validity of halitzah<\/em> performed by an apostate or an atheist. Following her husband\u2019s death, Rabbanit Citron continued to live in Petah Tikva, supporting herself on a meager pension provided by the moshava committee. She later decided to publish the writings of her husband and those of her father, known as the \u201cRogachover.\u201d To this end, in the 1930s she returned to Latvia and settled in the city where she had married and which she and her husband had left many years earlier: Daugavpils.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIn 1941, most of the city\u2019s Jews were murdered in the Pogulyanka Forest, and in the winter of 1942, the Nazis rounded up the remaining Jews in the ghetto and murdered them as well. Among those killed was Rabbanit Rachel Citron.<\/p>\n\n\n
\u201cAfter all, your shop also serves as a meeting place for scholars and students of Torah,\u201d Rabbi Abramsky wrote to Rabinowitz in a 1928 letter preserved at the National Library. \u201cSurely your ears have heard various opinions there concerning my book Hazon Yehezkel<\/em>. I, sitting here alone and isolated within four cubits of Torah, wish to know whether there are those who seek to praise this sacred work, which is the passion of my life. And if they seek to criticize it, for what reason and from what perspective do they speak? [\u2026] Perhaps my book has received no attention at all from the scholars of the Land of Israel? For worse than those who praise or criticize is the one who does not examine it at all. [\u2026] Forgive me, my friend, if I have wearied you this time with my words. I simply have no one with whom to discuss this matter, and so I have poured out my thoughts before you. After all, you alone, and no one else, have taken an interest in my work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n As persecution by the Communist authorities intensified, Rabbi Abramsky sought to leave Russia. Rabinowitz appealed on his behalf to the leaders of the moshava of Petah Tikva, who were, at the time, looking to appoint a new rabbi. In the correspondence concerning these efforts, a poignant human moment emerges: Rabbi Abramsky asked the leaders of the moshava about the circumstances of the widow of the previous rabbi, Rabbi Yisrael Abba Citron (a copy of the letter Rabbi Abramsky sent to the leaders of the moshava was enclosed with his letter to Michel Rabinowitz):<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt would give me great pleasure to know how secure the situation is of the rabbanit, widow of the late rabbi. My heart is, of course, confident in your noble spirit and kindness, that you have surely shown compassion toward both the living and the departed. [\u2026] Surely, my dear friends, you have seen fit to put her mind at ease in this matter, so that, God forbid, she should not have to worry about her livelihood in her widowhood. And when I, too, know the details of this matter and that all is well, my peace of mind will be complete.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rabbi Yisrael Abba Citron (Kitroni) was born in Daugavpils and attended both a heder<\/em> and elementary school as a child. At the age of fourteen, he left his parents\u2019 home to study at the yeshivas of Telz and Volozhin. Upon his return, he married Rachel, the daughter of Rabbi Yosef Rozen, known as the \u201cGenius of Rogachov.\u201d Although he received offers to serve as rabbi in major European cities, in 1911 (Hebrew year 5671) he chose instead to settle in the small moshava of Petah Tikva, saying, \u201cBetter to be a rabbi in a small village in the Land of Israel than in a great city abroad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n Rabbi Citron served as rabbi of Petah Tikva for approximately seventeen years and died suddenly in 1927, at the age of just forty-six. He and his wife, Rachel, had no children, and under Jewish law, Rachel was therefore required to undergo halitzah<\/em> with one of his brothers before she could remarry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But as if the pain of childlessness and the death of her husband were not enough, the brothers refused to perform halitzah<\/em>. Both had abandoned the Jewish way of life: one had converted to Christianity, while the other, who did not believe and observed no religious way of life, lived in Bolshevik Russia. They may have disagreed about many things, but on one matter they were in complete agreement: they opposed the religious rite of halitzah<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And so the widowed rabbanit remained an agunah<\/em>, unable to remarry and without a source of income.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When Rabbi Abramsky learned of Rabbi Citron\u2019s death, he was deeply concerned for his widow. Above all, he wanted to ensure that his arrival to serve as the town\u2019s rabbi would not undermine the community\u2019s support for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the end, Rabbi Abramsky\u2019s appointment as rabbi of the Petah Tikva moshava did not come to pass. The Soviet authorities refused to grant him an exit visa, and he was arrested on charges of \u201canti-Soviet activity\u201d \u2013 meaning, his desire to immigrate to the Land of Israel. After considerable efforts and pressure brought to bear by religious leaders across the Jewish world \u2013 from Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinski to Chaim Nachman Bialik \u2013 Rabbi Abramsky was released on condition that he leave the Soviet Union permanently. The terms of his release were acceptable to all concerned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rabbi Abramsky was deported to Latvia, and only many months later were his wife and two of their children able to join him. His two eldest sons remained behind for many more years, a source of anguish documented in numerous letters the rabbi wrote to Michel Rabinowitz, many of which are also preserved in the archive. In the winter of 1931, Rabbi Abramsky settled in London, where he served as a rabbi for approximately twenty years. Only in 1951, following his retirement, did he immigrate to Israel and settle in Jerusalem.<\/p>\n\n\n Rabbanit Citron remained an agunah<\/em> for the rest of her life. The halitzah<\/em> case sparked a halakhic debate concerning the validity of halitzah<\/em> performed by an apostate or an atheist. Following her husband\u2019s death, Rabbanit Citron continued to live in Petah Tikva, supporting herself on a meager pension provided by the moshava committee. She later decided to publish the writings of her husband and those of her father, known as the \u201cRogachover.\u201d To this end, in the 1930s she returned to Latvia and settled in the city where she had married and which she and her husband had left many years earlier: Daugavpils.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In 1941, most of the city\u2019s Jews were murdered in the Pogulyanka Forest, and in the winter of 1942, the Nazis rounded up the remaining Jews in the ghetto and murdered them as well. Among those killed was Rabbanit Rachel Citron.<\/p>\n\n\nThe Widowed Rabbanit<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Epilogue<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/nnl-aleph11375293480005171-ie79620085-fl79620089.jpg\")