Bava Kamma 39a ~ Injuries from Bullfighting

Let's Run with the Bulls

Don't try this at home.  In fact, don't try this anywhere.

Every year in early July, the annual Running of the Bulls happens in Pamplona, Spain. This year’s event resulted in 35 injuries, but no (human) fatalities. Since records began in 1911, there have been 16 deaths. The last was in 2009 when a bull gored a 27-year-old Spaniard in the neck, heart and lungs.

It is with this background that we reach today’s remarkable passage in the Talmud that addresses the legal liabilities of bulls whose job was to gore people. Here is that passage from a Mishnah which we read in today's Daf Yomi:

 בבא קמא לט, א 

שור האצטדין אינו חייב מיתה שנאמר כי יגח ולא שיגיחוהו

A bull of the arena [that killed a person] is not liable to the death penalty, for the verse states [Ex. 21:28] "If an ox gores" - which implies that an ox that is compelled to gore [is exempt]. (Bava Kamma 39a.)

According to Rashi, bulls were trained to fight against each other (שמיוחד לנגיחות ומלמדין אותו לכך). Tosafot takes it up a notch; back on page 24b Tosafot noted that the bulls were trained to fight people. (לא דמי לשור האצטדין שהאדם נלחם עמו להורגו) In other words, we are describing a bullfight.

 A Jewish Bullfighter from the Upper West Side

Before we go further, let's frame this liability by watching a video. It is, I am fairly certain, the only video evidence of a lady Jewish bullfighter from New York's Upper West Side. Her name is Rachel Wolf, and her day job is to raise money for Shaare Zedek Hospital in Jerusalem. But here she is, in Peru in 2010, 'fighting' (kinda) a bull (kinda). Note: No Jews, matadors, or animals were harmed in the making of this video. Listen our for the screams of "Yay Rachel" over the rather cheesy background music.

Now imagine if the still sizable horns on that little bull had met, not the matador's cape, but the matador. Or worse still, Rachel. According to the Mishnah, the bull would not be subject to any penalty, since it was bred to gore, and so did not really do so of its own volition. Which seems rather fair to me. (Sorry, Rachel.)  

Injuries from Bullfighting

Far from a theoretical ruling, the Mishnah addresses a real issue for those countries in which bullfighting is still a national pastime. (I'm talking about you, Spain. And Portugal. And you too, Mexico, Columbia, Ecuador, Venezuela and Peru.)  Not surprisingly, all countries in which bullfighting is practiced continue to see the nasty injuries that result. And I'm not talking about those of the bull. 

In May 2010 Julio Aparicio slipped while fighting this half-ton bull.  The horn of the animal tore into the bullfighter's throat and emerged through his mouth.  Aparicio underwent six hours of surgery; doctors performed an emergency tracheotomy and worked to reconstruct his throat, jaw, tongue and the roof of the mouth. But don't worry. He made a full recovery and returned to the bullfighting arena ten weeks after the goring.  

“A considerable risk of serious, life-threatening injuries is inherent to bullfighting. Penetrating inguinal and perineal trauma with injury to the femoral vessels represents a specific, potentially fatal injury. ”

— Rudloff, U. Gonzalez, V. Fernandez, E. et al. Chirurgica Taurina: A 10-Year Experience of Bullfight Injuries. Journal of Trauma. 2006; 61: 970–974.

In 2005 a group of surgeons published an enticingly titled paper: Chirurgica Taurina: A 10-Year Experience of Bullfight Injuries, based on data collected from the Plaza de Toros Nuevo Progreso, the second-largest bullfighting arena in Mexico. 

Over the ten year study period, 2,328 bullfights  were included. Seven hundred and fifty bull- fighters were identified, of which 68 -that's 9% - required emergency medical care by the surgical trauma service Not surprisingly, the most common site of injury was the lower extremity (55 of 99 injuries), followed by the upper extremity, the groin, the perineum, and the abdomen. And there were some really nasty injuries. "Of the seven perineal injuries" wrote the authors, 

all involved the scrotum with varying degrees of scrotal hematoma and avulsion of the scrotal skin leaving the testicle bare in one case. There was one case of rectal perforation requiring a diverting colostomy. Of the five abdominal injuries, two breached the peritoneum causing bleeding from the small bowel mesentery in one case, and prolapse of the omentum in the other. In two other cases the bullfighters had separate wounds of entry and exit caused by the horn which had passed tangentially through the layers of the abdominal wall...

Another paper, Bullhorn and Bullfighting Injuries, reported on fifteen bullfighting injuries. Here they are:

 From Garcia-Marin, A. Turegano-Fuentes, F.  Sanchez-Artega A et al.  Bullhorn and Bullfighting Injuries.  Eur J Trauma Emerg Surg (2014) 40:687–691. 

A Jewish Bullfighter from the Fifteenth Century

The fact that the Mishnah addresses the liability of a bull that injures or kills in the arena suggests that Jews were indeed involved in the business of bullfighting. But through the centuries this Jewish involvement seems to have been rare.  Evidence for this is found in a manuscript in the British Museum. It was written sometime in the fifteenth century, and it parodies a bullfight in which Jews appear as both spectators and participants.  In a paper analyzing the parody, Elena Lourie notes that the point of the poem was

clearly to ridicule the Jews and their cowardice when confronted by a brave and ferocious bull...Although fourteenth and early fifteenth-century records reveal the presence of three or four Jewish lion tamers in Saragossa and Pamplona, entrusted with the keeping of the king's lions...there can be no doubt that they were oddities and that the very notion of Jews engaged in bullfighting went against the canon of what was considered proper and was intended to strike the reader as a thing, in itself, ridiculous and grotesque.

...And one from the Twentieth Century

Aside from Rachel, I know of only one other Jew who entered the arena - the professional matador Sidney Franklin (1903-1976). Franklin, who wrote an autobiography Bullfighter from Brooklyn, left New York (and his orthodox Jewish upbringing) in 1922, and moved to Mexico City, where he started his career as a professional bullfighter.  Ernest Hemingway was rather impressed with the Jewish matador from Brooklyn; he wrote a chapter about Franklin in Death in the Afternoon, and included pictures of Franklin at work in the arena. Let's end with Hemingway's description of Franklin at work:

Franklin is brave with a cold, serene and intelligent valor but instead of being awkward and ignorant he is one of the most skillful, graceful and slow manipulators of a cape fighting today. His repertoire with the cape is enormous but he does not attempt by a varied repertoire to escape from the performance of the veronica as the base of his cape work and his veronicas are classical, very emotional, and beautifully timed and executed. You will find no Spaniard who ever saw him fight who will deny his artistry and excellence with the cape...He is a better, more scientific, more intelligent, and more finished matador than all but about six of the full matadors in Spain today and the bullfighters know it and have the utmost respect for him.

“שוורים שמשחקין בהן ומלמדין אותן ליגח זה את זה אינם מועדים זה לזה. ואפילו המיתו את האדם אינן חייבין מיתה שנאמר כי יגח לא שיגיחוהו
Bulls that are taught to gore one another and that are used in tournaments are not considered to be ‘warned.’ Even if such a bull kills a person it is not liable to the death penalty...”

— רמב"ם משנה תורה הל׳ נזיקי ממון פרק ו ,ה

Next time on Talmudology: Injuries from Cows.

Channukah ~ What Have the Maccabees Ever Done for Us?

Who could forget that classic scene from The Life of Brian, in which the Judean rebels ask, “What have the Romans ever done for us?”

After much debate, Reg, the rebel leader (played of course by the brilliant John Cleese) concludes “All right, but apart from the sanitation, the medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, a fresh water system, and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?”

We might have asked the same thing about the Maccabees, or as they are known in Hebrew, the Maccabim (spelled either מַכַּבִּים, or מַקַבִּים), the heroes of the story of Chanukah. They gave us Chanukah to be sure, and their name: Maccabi Games and Maccabi Tel Aviv Football Club,and Maccabi Haifa and Maccabi Petach Tikvah, and more. But really, aside from a stunning military victory, a few decades of peace, freedom to worship in the Temple, and some naming opportunities, what have the Maccabim ever done for us? Actually, a lot more than you might have thought. They might have given us everything.

CHANUKAH in a nutshell

As a reminder, Antiochus had set his sights on conquering Alexandria in Egypt but was prevented from doing so by the Romans, who ordered him to withdraw or consider himself to be at war with the Roman Republic. Recognizing when he was defeated, he turned his army north. According to the Second Book of Maccabees (5:11–14), here is what happened next:

Raging like a wild animal, [Antiochus] set out from Egypt and took Jerusalem by storm. He ordered his soldiers to cut down without mercy those whom they met and to slay those who took refuge in their houses. There was a massacre of young and old, a killing of women and children, a slaughter of virgins and infants. In the space of three days, eighty thousand were lost, forty thousand meeting a violent death, and the same number being sold into slavery.

As described by the Jewish historian Josephus (who was not an eyewitness, but lived about a century later), here is what caused the Jewish revolt:

Now Antiochus was not satisfied either with his unexpected taking the city (Jerusalem), or with its pillage, or with the great slaughter he had made there; but being overcome with his violent passions, and remembering what he had suffered during the siege, he compelled the Jews to dissolve the laws of their country, and to keep their infants uncircumcised, and to sacrifice swine's flesh upon the altar; against which they all opposed themselves, and the most approved among them were put to death.

The Maccabim, led by Mattathias (Mattisyahu) and his five sons, waged a guerilla campaign against their Greek oppressors, which culminated in a military victory and the re-dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem. Of course there may have been a miracle, something to do with oil (though the Rambam makes no mention of it, as we have discussed elsewhere), but the real miracle was the restoration of an independent Jewish state under the Hasmoneans, until civil war and an intervention by the Romans ended it all in 63 BCE.

By any account this would be enough for which to thank the Maccabim (well, not the civil war, but certainly the rest). But it turns out that perhaps we owe the Maccabim a great deal more than this.

a search for the terminus ante quem

Last year, the Israeli archeologist Jonathan Adler published The Origins of Judaism, in which he asked a simple question: what is the earliest archeological evidence for Jewish practice? Adler was not primarily interested in textual evidence (though he cites a fair amount), but with the lived experience of individuals, on their practice and not on their beliefs. Adler focussed on epigraphic and archeological discoveries, to arrive at a terminus ante quem, “the boundary of time when or before which the particular element of Judaism under examination must have first emerged.”

…the date of the earliest available evidence demonstrating that Judeans knew something resembling the Torah and were observing its laws will serve as the terminus ante quem for the earliest emergence of Judaism. That it to say, Judaism must have emerged at this time or earlier. Lacking further evidence, this is the most we can determine with any degree of confidence (18).

I know what you are thinking, and Adler addresses it:

Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. It is possible, for example, that the Judeans commonly knew of the Torah and were observing its laws for decades or even centuries prior to our established terminus ante quem, and that for whatever reasons no evidence has survived (ibid).

Adler’s conclusion, based on a “data-driven analysis” is that “we possess no compelling evidence dating to any time prior to the middle of the second century BCE which suggests that the Judean masses knew of the Torah and were observing its laws in practice. This will establish the middle of the second century BCE as the overarching terminus ante quem for the initial emergence of Judaism.” Which is to say, the Hasmonean period. Here is just some of that data.

1. Kashrut

   As we have discussed elsewhere on Talmudology, Adler analyzed the makeup of fish remains at 30 sites throughout the southern Levant from the Late Bronze Age through to the end of the Byzantine period (ca. 1550 BCE to 640 CE). They found that “the consumption of scaleless fish— especially catfish—was not uncommon at Judean sites throughout the Iron Age and Persian periods.” In other words, Judeans likely ate catfish, which are not kosher. [You can read a criticism of this claim from Bar Ilan’s Joshua Berman and Ari Zivotovsky here.] Pig remains suggest that by the Roman era, Judeans were not eating pork. “But here the trail of evidence ends. Prior to the second century BCE, there exists no surviving evidence, whether textual or archeological, which suggests that Judeans adhered to a set of food prohibitions or to a body of dietary restrictions of any kind…it is only from the Hasmonean period onward that we may claim to know of Judeans adhering to a set of dietary restrictions of any kind.” (49)

2. Ritual Purity

   Josephus describes two stories set in the second half of the first century BCE that relate to ritual purity. The Dead Sea Scrolls, composed some time in the second or first century BCE are of course full of laws that address this area. And they are mentioned in the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, dated to a similar time. The Maccabim themselves are described (2 Mac 12:38) as having purified themselves “according to the custom” before making camp for Shabbat. Beyond this, the Hebrew Bible provides “little evidence” that the laws of tumah and tahara were known before the second century BCE. For example, although the complex rituals around purification after touching a corpse (tuma’at met) or contracting a skin disease (tzara’at) are mentioned in the Torah, there is not “even one passing allusion to anyone putting these rites into practice elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible.” In addition, although there are many mikva’ot (ritual immersion pools) that date to the Hasmonean period, no stepped mikva’ot have yet been dated “to any time earlier than the late second century BCE” (82).

3. Visual Art

   There is a Torah ban on making a graven image, but the earliest imageless coins were minted in Judea in 131 BCE. In contrast, all the surviving coins minted in Judea in the fourth century BCE display human and animal images. The Persian era Judean authorities included figural images on all their minted coins and exhibited “no signs of regard for any such Pentateuchal prohibition.” Adler suggests that it was only from the Hasmonean era onward “that there is a never before seen aversion to figural art among Judeans” (111).

4. Tefillin and Mezuzah

   We have yet to unearth any tefillin and mezuzot artefacts that predate the second century BCE, though, to be fair, these objects are made of perishable organic material. (Remember, Adler is focussed on the lived experience of the Judeans, not what may have been written in the Torah. The latter certainly predates this.) Fun fact: perhaps the oldest archaeological witness to tefillin or mezuzah is the Nash Papyrus, dated to mid-second century to the mid-first century BCE. But there are many finds that demonstrate that by the first century CE tefillin and mezuzah existed as Judean ritual practices.

5. The Menorah

   “A single golden, seven-branched menorah as prescribed in the Pentateuch certainly stood in the temple prior to its destruction in 70 CE, and both texts and archaeological finds suggest that Judeans living in both the first century CE and the first century BCE were well aware of both its existence and its general appearance. Prior to the mid-first century BCE , not a single example has been found of a seven branched menorah depicted in Judean (or Israelite) art, and earlier texts that speak of either a single or multiple golden or silver lampstands in the temple provide little correspondence with Pentateuchal prescriptions” (167).

Menorot in Judean art only appear from the Hasmonean time onward. From here.

Judaism as a way of Life emerged during the Hasmonean Period

Adler provides more evidence, from the observance of Shabbat and Yom Kippur and Sukkot, to the establishment of the synagogue. You will have to read that for yourself, or listen to a talk in which he outlines his thesis.

Our resolute conclusion has been that some point around the middle of the second century [BCE] should be regarded as our terminus ante quem, the time during or before which we ought to seek the emergence of Judaism….we would be remiss not to regard as at least suggestive the fact that all of the many practices and prohibitions analyzed throughout this book first come into historical focus precisely during the course of the Hasmonean period. Is it possible that Judaism as a way of life followed by Judeans at large first emerged only around this time?

It turns out that the Maccabim have done a lot for us. Way more than you might have once thought. They either (i) left us with the earliest cultural artefacts that belong to a Judaism we might recognize as our own, or (ii) were the first to practice it. Either way,

…it would not be wrong to view Judaism as having emerged out of the crucible of Hellenism, which dominated the cultural landscape of the time. In a poetic way, it seems only fitting that our English word “Judaism” itself is the result of a Hebrew/Greek hybrid, rooted etymologically in the Greek rendering of the Hebrew “yehudayah” merged with the Greek suffix'“-ismos”. (236)

Now that is a something worth saying Hallel for.

---

More Talmudology for Chanukah:

Rashi and Why Women Light the Menorah

Was there a Chanukah Miracle?

Bava Kamma 35a ~ Analgesia for Animals

בבא קמא לה, א

ההוא תורא דהוה בי רב פפא דהוה כיבין ליה חינכיה עייל ופתקיה לנזייתא ושתי שיכרא ואיתסי

There was an ox in the house of Rav Pappa that had a toothache. It went inside, pushed the cover off a beer barrel, drank the beer, and was healed.

Descartes on Animal Pain

The silly notion that animals do not feel pain is widely thought to have originated with the French philosopher Rene Descartes (1596-1650). "They eat without pleasure, cry without pain, grow without knowing it; they desire nothing, fear nothing, know nothing". While these words were those a student of Descartes, the contemporary philosopher Peter Harrison notes that they are generally thought to capture the essence of Descartes' view of animals. "The father of modern philosophy" continues Harrison, "is credited with the opinion that animals are non-sentient automata, an opinion for which over the centuries he has been ridiculed and vilified."

“To be able to believe that a dog with a broken paw is not really in pain when it whimpers is a quite extraordinary achievement, even for a philosopher.”

— John Cottingham. "A Brute to the Brutes?' Descartes's Treatment of Animals. Philosophy 1978; 53; 551-559.

Scientists Ignoring Animal Pain

Vivisection of a dog. From J. Walaeus. Epistola Prima de Motu Chyli et Sanguinis (1647).

The debate as to Descartes' true view is fascinating, but need not detain us. What is certain is that the pain that animals undoubtedly feel was either denied as existing, or overlooked for centuries by scientists. Animals were used for experiments of the most horrendous kind in the names of science, even when the pain was evident to those who were causing it. Here, for example, is the French physiologist Claude Bernard (d. 1878), who felt that without vivisection, 'neither physiology not scientific medicine is possible': 

A physiologist is not a man of fashion, he is a man of science, absorbed by the scientific idea where he pursues: he no-longer hears the cry of animals, he no-longer sees the blood that flows, he sees only his idea...no anatomist feels himself in a horrible slaughter house; under the influence of a scientific idea, he delightfully follows a nervous filament through stinking livid flesh, which to any other man would be an object of disgust and slaughter.

“It is sometimes said that people in the seventeenth century had no motion of cruelty to animals and Descartes even argued that animals are mere machines, incapable of feeling pain. It is also said there was so much cruel treatment of one human being by another in the seventeenth century that what was done by the vivisectionists to animals would scarcely have seemed horrendous. ”

— David Wootton. Bad Medicine. Oxford University Press 2006. 108-109.

Do Fish Feel Pain? - Yes!

The tropical Zebrafish grow to about 2.5 inches in length.  And they don't like pain.

Rav Pappa's ox sought out pain relief from beer, but recent evidence has shown that it's not just oxen who like to have their pain relieved.  So do fish.  In a paper in the The Journal of Consciousness Studies, Lynn Sneddon demonstrated that not only can fish feel pain, but that they are willing to pay a cost to get pain relief. Zebrafish, like humans, prefer an interesting environment to a boring one. When given a choice, these fish swim in an enriched tank with vegetation and objects to explore, rather than in one that is bare. With me so far? OK. Next, Sneddon, from the University of Liverpool in the UK, injected the tails of the zebrafish with acetic acid, which no doubt annoyed them, but did not cause any change in their preference for the interesting tank over the one that was bare.  Finally, she injected the fish with acetic acid, but added a painkiller into the water of the bare tank. This time, the fish chose to swim into the bare but drug filled tank. Fish who were injected with saline as a control remained in the enriched tank and did not swim into the drug enhanced bare tank.  The conclusion: zebrafish are willing to pay a cost in return for getting relief from their pain. Similar observations have been made in rodents too; when in pain, they will self administer analgesics, preferring to drink analgesic dosed water or eat dosed food when presented with a choice. 

Defining Animal Pain

In the scientific world there was  - and perhaps still is -  a debate about the nature of pain that animals may feel.  Sneddon, the fish physiologist, wrote that if we are to conclude that animals experience pain in a way similar to humans, then (1) "animals should have the apparatus to detect and process pain; (2) pain should result in adverse changes in behavior and physiology; and (3) analgesics (painkillers) should reduce these responses..." Thanks to advances in microscopy and physiology, today we know that animals have many of the anatomical features (like nerves that transmit the pain stimulus) needed to process pain.  

The Ox of the House of Rav Pappa

Rav Pappa's ox demonstrated the second and third of Sneddon's features: pain changed the behavior of the ox (off it trotted to find pain relief ), and analgesia, (in this case beer) indeed reduced the pain response.  Of course we are left wondering how it was known that the ox of the house of Rav Pappa specifically had a toothache, (and not say sinusitis or a bad migraine), but based on what we know about the ways in which fish and rodents will seek out an environment in which painkillers are available, the story is no where near as fanciful as we might suspect.  

קיצור שולחן ערוך - קצא

אָסוּר מִן הַתּוֹרָה לְצַעֵר כָּל בַּעַל חָי. וְאַדְּרַבָּא, חַיָב לְהַצִּיל כָּל בַּעַל-חַי מִצַּעַר 

It is forbidden to cause pain to any living creature. In fact a person is required to save any living creature from pain...(Abbreviated Code of Jewish Law by Shlomo Ganzfreid, 1864).

Talmudology on the Parsha, Vayeshev: The Strange Story of Theriac

בראשית 37:25

Having thrown their brother Joseph into a pit, his brothers sit down to eat and consider their next move:

וַיֵּשְׁבוּ֮ לֶֽאֱכל־לֶ֒חֶם֒ וַיִּשְׂא֤וּ עֵֽינֵיהֶם֙ וַיִּרְא֔וּ וְהִנֵּה֙ אֹרְחַ֣ת יִשְׁמְעֵאלִ֔ים בָּאָ֖ה מִגִּלְעָ֑ד וּגְמַלֵּיהֶ֣ם נֹֽשְׂאִ֗ים נְכֹאת֙ וּצְרִ֣י וָלֹ֔ט הוֹלְכִ֖ים לְהוֹרִ֥יד מִצְרָֽיְמָה׃

And they sat down to eat bread: and they lifted up their eyes and looked, and, behold, a company of Yishme᾽elim came from Gil῾ad with their camels bearing gum balm and ladanum, going to carry it down to Miżrayim.

Here is the translation of this verse written by Saadia Gaon, (882–942 C.E) known as the Tafsir, which was written in Judeo-Arabaic:

ת̇ם ג̇לסו ואכלו טעאמא פרפעו עיונהם פנט̇רו פאד̇א בקאפלה אעראב ג̇איה מן אלג̇רש וג̇מאלהם מחמלה כ̇רנובא ותריאקא ושאהבלוט מארין ליחדרו ד̇לך אלי מצר

So according to Saadiah Gaon, one of the spices carried by the Yishmaeli camel caravan was theriac (תריאקא). It is an odd word choice, and might not mean to us today. But in the past, theriac certainly meant a great deal. So let’s jump into the history of theriac.

Theriac pot, 1782, from here.

Theriac in the Classical Jewish Sources

Theriac is mentioned in the Talmud, during a discussion of the benefits of a fever.

נדרים מא, ב

אָמַר רָבָא: הַאי אִישָּׁתָא, אִי לָאו דְּפַרְווֹנְקָא דְּמַלְאֲכָא דְמוֹתָא, מְעַלֵּי כְּחִיזְרָא לְדִיקְלֵי, חַד לִתְלָתִין יוֹמִין, וְכִי תִּירְיָיקִי לְגוּפָאי

Rava said: With regard to fever [ishta]…it is advantageous if its incidence is once in thirty days, and it is like an antidote [tiraiki] for poison in the body…

What might this “antidote” be? In his famous dictionary, Marcus Jastrow, explains תִּירְיָיקִי in this way:

Theriac is mentioned by the Rambam, (הל׳ חמץ ומצה 4:10) and in the Shulchan Aruch, the Code of Jewish Law. There we learn that should any chametz (leavened food) fall into your theriac on Passover, the mixture may be kept and used, despite the usual prohibition of mixtures of this sort. Good to know.

שולחן ערוך אורך חיים, 441

והתריאק"ה שנתן לתוכן חמץ מותר לקיימן בפסח שהרי נפסד צורת החמץ

In his commentary on our passage of Talmud, Rabbi Asher ben Jehiel (1250–1328), known as the Rosh, noted that theriac is made from all manner of spices. He would surely know this, because during the time in which he lived, theriac flourished. But theriac predated the Rosh by more than one thousand year. In fact the second century Greek physician Galen is thought to have authored an entire work De Theriaca ad Pisonem on the healing properties of theriac, and its use as an antidote to poison.

“כי הטריאקה איננה סם אחד, אבל היא מרקחת רבת ההרכבה, יכנס בה שאור ודבש ובשר שקצים ורמשים, כי יכנסו בה אבק העקרבים ובשר האפעה, כי לכך נקראת כן, כי הארס בלשון יון תריאק. וכן בלשון תלמוד טרקיה חויא (שבת קט:), וכן הוזכרה המרקחת בלשונם כי טוריאקה לכוליה גופא (נדרים מא:), וחלילה שיכנס בקטורת בשר שקצים ורמשים ושאור

Theriac [called “triga” by Rashi] is not one ingredient but is a compound of many ingredients, containing leaven and honey, the flesh of forbidden animals and reptiles, for the powder of dried scorpions and the flesh of the viper go into it, this being the reason why it is so called [theriac], for “poison” in Greek is called theriac.

So also in the language of the Talmud:“Torkai (stung by) a serpent.” Similarly this compound is mentioned in the language [of the Rabbis]: “as theriac is good for the whole body.”’”

— Ramban, Commentary to Ex. 30:34

Where did theriac come from?

The word theriac comes from the Greek term θηριακή (thēriakē), meaning "pertaining to animals,” from another word θηρίον (thērion), meaning a wild animal. It is from this word that word “treacle” is derived. Theriac may have originated in the second century BCE., where legend has it that it was developed as an antidote against poisoning by Mithridates VI, King of Pontus. Actually, the king seems to have had an unusual interest in this antidote; he is thought to have tested it on prisoners condemned to death, and hence theriac was once known as mithridatium. The original recipe (and there are many) contained as many as forty ingredients, and over the centuries theriac was variously concocted using all manner of things, although the most frequently listed were viper flesh, opium, wine, honey and cinnamon. Theriac was used for perhaps some two millenia (!) until it declined in popularity in the 18th century. Here, for example, is the Latin theriac recipe of Paul Guldenius, printed in Thorn in 1630. (It is one of only two surviving copies, held by the Gdansk Library of the Polish Academy of Sciences.)

The printed Paul Guldenius Theriac recipe (Gdansk Library of the Polish Academy of Sciences). From Raj. et al. The real Theriac – panacea, poisonous drug or quackery? Journal of Ethnopharmacology 2021: 11

And here is the translated list of the Guldenius recipe:

Also from Raj. et al.

Jews, Theriac and the Black Death

During the terrible outbreak of bubonic plague in the middle of the fourteenth century, and the many that followed, theriac was recommended for its preventive and curative properties. For example, it was discussed by the Italian Jew Abraham ben Hananiah Yagel (1553– c.1624). He was by any definition a polymath. His works include not one but two lengthy encyclopedias, a manual of belief “audaciously adapted from a Catholic manual” and a work in praise of women. But Yagel was first and foremost a physician, and it was in this role that in 1587 he published his first work, a short tract on plagues called Moshia Hosim [The Savior of Those Who Seek Refuge]. “Do not fear the warmth brought on by theriac,” he wrote, “for in small diluted doses it cannot harm anyone.” Those who were sick should dress in clean, comfortable clothes “for they stimulate the sense of touch” and should be surrounded with sheets soaked in a mixture of vinegar and theriac, as well as fresh flowers and sweet-smelling roses “for they uplift the sprits of the sick.”

What should you take if theriac was not available? Good question. Yagel recommended urine:

…those who are learned about nature have taught that it is useful and good to take the urine of a young, handsome, and healthy boy, and to drink it each morning. It will filter out the bad air [that causes the plague].

Hold off your criticism. Yagel here was indeed reflecting the best of contemporary medical thinking. The German medical historian Karl Sudhoff (1853– 1938), who made a career studying almost 300 plague texts from the early Middle Ages, noted that in one Latin treatise on health written in 1405, “older patients who were sometimes counseled to drink a boy’s fresh urine might (understandably enough) feel some nausea.” And the Italian physician named Dionysus Secundus Colle who recovered from the plague around 1348 had this to say: 

I have seen women gathering snails and capturing lizards and newts, which they asserted that, once they had all been burnt down to a powder . . . they administered two drachmas of it in a boy’s urine, and they cured and persevered many, and afterward I was compelled to investigate [this cure myself] and afterwards I cured many.

Theriac was also thought to prevent infection. Jacob Zahalon (1630– 1693), the author of Otzar Hahayyim [A Treasury of Life] described his work as both a physician and a rabbi during an outbreak of bubonic plague in Rome in 1656. The plague arrived from Spain and swept over southern Italy, killing over one million people; in the Jewish Ghetto in Rome, according to Zahalon, it lasted some nine months.

When the physician visited the sick, he would hold in his hand a large tar torch, burning it night and day to purify the air for his protection, and in his mouth he had theriac . . .

“Poison antidotes figured prominently as wonder drugs, owing to their powers to cure poison alongside a wider variety of ailments. The ubiquitous theriac and its forerunner mithridatium were prime examples.”

— Alisha Rankin, The Poison Trials: Wonder Drugs, Experiment and the Battle for Authenticity in Renaissance Science. The University of Chicago Press 2021. p150.

In a recent paper on the healing properties of theriac from a group of Polish researchers, the authors explain the theory behind the use of theriac:

The humoral doctrine, based on the views attributed as far back as to Hippocrates (5th/4th c. BC), assumed the existence in body of four basic substances called the humors. Disturbance of their balance or having them spoiled would cause disease. 

The[se] humoral physicians supposed that both for epidemic and intoxication the real cause was a “venom”, entering into body and corrupting its liquids. Hence, drugs believed to neutralize poisons, such as Theriac, were used when a “venom” was diagnosed. Therefore early modern medics recommended the treacle to be used in case of epidemics (when the toxin was considered e.g. airborne) as well as after poisoning, a snake or a rabid dog bite etc.

Contemporaries actually believed that Theriac is a potent anti-epidemic drug. After all, it was used not only during the outbreaks of bubonic plague, the early modern epidemic disease par excellence. For instance, in 1551, during the sudor anglicus outbreak, numerous English physicians regarded the treacle as a staple in prophylaxis, cure and treatment of that mysterious and contagious disease. In the 17th c., London physicians assumed that Theriac might resist measles outbreaks among children and young adolescents. Whereas in German-speaking territories in the 18th c. the treacle was used as a medicine against numerous types of “typhoid fevers” and typhus, smallpox, and other contagious diseases, including the cattle plague. In Muslim world, in turn, it was widely recommended during the outbreaks of cholera.

Fake Snake oil and Genuine Snake Oil

Over the centuries, theriac was concocted with all manner of different exotic ingredients. But how could the consumer be sure they were getting the real-deal theriac, and not some useless knock-off? Through a poison trial, obviously.

In her fascinating recent book The Poison Trials: Wonder Drugs, Experiment and the Battle for Authenticity in Renaissance Science, Alisha Rankin, a professor of history at Tufts University in Boston describes how theriac and other wonder drugs were tested. Often, a pair of criminals condemned to death would be used. They were given a poison like aconite (which comes from a genus of flowering plants which includes monkshood) and then one of them received the theriac. One such Poison Trial took place in 1524 and was overseen by the physician to Pope Clement VII. Here is Rankin:

Led by the pope’s personal physician Paolo Giovio, the doctors gave both prisoners a good quantity of a deadly aconite called napellus, enough to kill “not merely two men, but one hundred.” As the poison took effect, the prisoners started to gesticulate wildly and cry out from the pain in their hearts. Immediately, Caravitia [a surgeon who had created the antidote and offered it to the pope] anointed one of them with some of the oil, and the man’s heart and pulse quickly returned to normal. The other prisoner, who was given no antidote, died in great agony…

Less than two weeks later, a four-page pamphlet appeared in print, described as a “Testimony of the most true and admirable virtues of a composite oil against plague and all poison, with which an experiment was conducted by distinguished men, at the command of the Supreme Pontiff Pope Clement VII, in the Roman Capitoline edifice.”

Still, these trials did not convince everyone. Galen had written that “there is much trickery practiced about the drug by tricksters.” During the Renaissance period, there was concern that the theriac was inferior or outright fraudulent. The same concerns were raised about another cure-all: unicorn horn, and apothecaries had to go to great lengths to prove to the satisfaction of their customers that the horn came from a genuine unicorn.

But did it work?

It probably goes without saying, but I will say it anyway. There is nothing that we today would count as scientific evidence to suggest that theriac, in any of its recipes, actually worked. The same group of Polish researchers we cited above carefully reconstructed theriac from that the recipe of Paul Guldenius (and you can read their fascinating paper here). They concluded that “only two species included in Theriac can be harmful in humans: poppy and sea squill, but in both cases the calculated quantity of morphine and cardiac glycosides, respectively, were below toxic level.” Well at least that. And here are some more of their observations:

Summing up the results, due to the extreme complexity of the Theriac recipe after theoretical analysis it is easier to say what pharmacological effect the medicine did not have than what it actually had. Historical and phytochemical investigations have consistently shown that – at least in the Early Modern period – the assumptions regarding narcotic or toxic effects of Theriac are not supported by the results. On the other hand, taking into account the compounds one can expect positive results in antioxidant tests or antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory activity. Still, at the moment there is no indication that the famous panacea’s efficacy in the main indications was based on anything more than just a placebo effect.

This too, seems to have been understood by at least one talmudic rabbi. In reply to Rava’s statement that having a fever once every month was “as good as theriac,” his contemporary Rav Nahman bar Yitzchak had this brief retort:

לָא הִיא וְלָא תִּירְיָיקָה

- Give me neither a fever nor theriac!

אַחֵינוּ כָּל בֵּית יִשְׂרָאֵל

הַנְּתוּנִים בַּצָּרָה וּבַשִּׁבְיָה

הָעוֹמְדִים בֵּין בַּיָּם וּבֵין בַּיַּבָּשָׁה

הַמָּקוֹם יְרַחֵם עֲלֵיהֶם

וְיוֹצִיאֵם מִצָּרָה לִרְוָחָה

וּמֵאֲפֵלָה לְאוֹרָה

וּמִשִּׁעְבּוּד לִגְאֻלָּה

הָשָׁתָא בַּעֲגָלָא וּבִזְמַן קָרִיב