The Legacy of Yud-Tes Kislev

After the Maggid of Mezritch’s nesius ended and his Chassidim took over the mantle, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was assigned the most difficult region: the area in White Russia with a stronghold of the opponents of Chassidus, people who feared the Chassidic revolution would be detrimental to Yiddishkeit. These staunch opponents of Chassidim — wary of any revolutionary or kabbalistic movement, especially after Shabtai Zvi — used extreme measures to fight against the rapidly-growing Chassidus movement, including public denouncements and boycotts.

Life for the Chassidim became unbearable. Because of financial boycotts, they had no money to live. In the spring of 1798 — in an act that deeply pained the Baal Hatanya — the Chassidim turned to local authorities, asking them to intervene. What began as a rift had become an all-out war. And the effects would be devastating.

Weeks later, the opponents of Chassidus sent a letter to Paul I, the Emperor of the Russian empire, describing the Chassidim as a group of hoodlums.
“They lead a lawless life filled with various pleasures, complete with luxury and beauty, they roam with nothing to do while eating and drinking, negatively influencing others. They also steal and take bribes. They steal from their family and send it to Zalman, the son of Baruch, in Liozna.”

The Emperor’s reaction was predictable — and terrifying. As a paranoid dictator always quick to find non-existent threats to his reign, Paul I concluded that the Chassidim were stealing funds to support revolutionary groups. A local inquiry wouldn’t be enough if the “hoodlums” were bribing local officers to turn a blind eye, so the Emperor ordered his own officers to launch a high-level investigation.

It didn’t take long for the investigators to find “evidence.” It was fundraising letters and receipts of Colel Chabad donations. There was no shortage of Colel Chabad activity for the investigators to swoop down on.
“They collect money and then they send it abroad through their leader Rabbi Zalman,” the investigators reported.

In Tishrei of 1798, the Baal Hatanya was arrested along with thirty of his Chassidim. He was imprisoned in the infamous Petropavlovsk fortress, Russia’s most secure prison, situated on an isolated island in St. Petersburg, on the Neva river. His Chassidim were terrified.

The Ottomans were Russian enemies, and sending money to the Land of Israel could be considered treason. To make matters worse, Paul I was a ruthless man who had never shown restraint when it came to meting out harsh penalties. The future seemed unimaginably dark.

The Baal Hatanya was first interrogated on October 7.
“There are no clandestine operatives,” he told his interrogators, explaining that all Jews — Chassidim or otherwise — had an ancient custom to support their brothers in the Land of Israel.

After several weeks of imprisonment, the Baal Hatanya was given a lengthy questionnaire to fill out with questions about Yiddishkeit and Chassidus. His answers, penned in Lashon Hakodesh, described the basics of Avodas Hashem in pure, simple terms.

In response to questions about the money sent abroad, the Baal Hatanya wrote:
“It is our religious obligation to support and sustain the poor in the Land of Israel so that they should pray for all Jews. It is not done in a way of decree, for I do not have the power to do so, only with a prayer and imploring, and those who listen, give, and those who refuse, don’t.”

The interrogator finally concluded that the Baal Hatanya was not a danger to Russia, nor was he guilty of any revolutionary activities. On the contrary, the interrogator wrote, the Baal Hatanya had devoted his life to studying “old books” and he had never erred in his life.

The report was sent to the Emperor and — after fifty-three days of imprisonment — the Baal Hatanya was exonerated of all charges. He was free to go.

The date was November 16 — or Yud-Tes Kislev, exactly twenty-six years since the Maggid of Mezritch’s petirah, when he had promised the Baal Hatanya that, “This day will be a yom tov.”

And Yud-Tes Kislev 1798 was indeed a joyous day. As the news of the Baal Hatanya’s miraculous release spread across the country, Chassidim gathered to celebrate the news, singing and dancing in jubilation.

The Baal Hatanya saw his earthly release as a heavenly vindication of his life’s work — a sign to continue the dissemination of the deep, radiant secrets of the Torah. And continue he did, with unprecedented fervor, ushering in a new golden era of Chassidus. Today, Yud-Tes Kislev is celebrated as the “Rosh Hashanah of Chassidus.”

But the status of this day as a Yom Tov wasn’t always a sure thing. During his Yud-Tes Kislev sicha in 1957, the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, recounted the story of the first anniversary of Baal Hatanya’s release, repeating a sicha from the Frierdiker Rebbe twenty years earlier.

As the day approached, the Rebbe said, nobody knew what to expect. It was clear that there would be no tachanun, but what about Yom Tov celebrations?

In the first letter the Baal Hatanya wrote after his release, he asked his Chassidim to restrain themselves from celebrating in an overt, gloating way — behavior which would widen the rift between the Chassidim and the misnagdim.

The Chassidim were unsure if the Baal Hatanya would permit even quiet, restrained celebrations. In a letter to Rabbi Boruch of Medzhybiz, the grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, the Baal Hatanya wrote that he didn’t want this day to be widely celebrated because of his personal release — he felt inadequate to be the conduit for such a public Kiddush Hashem.

The Chassidim were disappointed. This was a day brimming with potential, a joyous day for Chassidus. How could they just let it slip by, unmarked?

It was the famed shadar (ambassador) for Colel Chabad, Reb Yaakov Smiliyaner, who came up with a brilliant solution. He suggested that everyone prepare their Colel Chabad pledges early, by Yud-Tes Kislev, instead of waiting until later in the year, as was usual. Reb Yaakov would take the funds to the Rebbe, who would surely react with joy — and in that moment Reb Yaakov would ask if the Chassidim could come and celebrate on Yud-Tes Kislev.

Reb Yaakov’s plan worked. The assurance that the poor in Eretz Yisrael would have what they need this year filled the Baal Hatanya with joy — removing the burden of months of fundraising. And when Reb Yaakov asked about Yud-Tes Kislev moments later, the Baal Hatanya agreed that the Chassidim could come to farbreng.

Farbreng they did. Hundreds of Chassidim flocked to the Baal Hatanya, enjoying a seudah, a farbrengen, and a maamer. The following year, the day was celebrated again and established as an official Yom Tov.

The Rebbe’s sicha ends there — but there’s another part to this story. Colel Chabad wasn’t just the reason the Yud-Tes Kislev was established as a Yom Tov; it was also the reason the Baal Hatanya had been released in the first place.

In the aforementioned letter the Baal Hatanya wrote to Rabbi Boruch of Medzhybizh, the Baal Hatanya attributed his release to one particular merit: his work for Colel Chabad.
“The merit of the Holy Land is what stood by us and our fathers,” the Baal Hatanya wrote, quoting the words of Vehi She’amda.
“Being involved in Eretz Hakodesh generally, and especially with Torah study and doing mitzvos — which specifically is the idea of Colel Chabad — is building it and preparing it for Moshiach,” the Rebbe said in a sicha on Yud-Tes Kislev 1974. “The Baal Hatanya says that this is the merit that stood by him — and it stood by the future generations as well. Because of the Baal Hatanya’s support for Eretz Yisrael, we merited a redemption then, and in future generations.”

The Rosh Hashana of Chassidus – Yud-Tes Kislev — is, of course, a celebration of the Baal Hatanya’s release and the golden era of Chassidus that followed. But it’s also a day of giving. A day marking the protection our tzedakah brings us. A day dedicated to our support for our fellow Yidden in Eretz Yisrael.

And, according to the Baal Hatanya, THAT is something truly worthy of celebration.