When the Chafetz Chaim Was Accused of Gossip

On December 14, 1928, Rabbi Yisrael Meir of Radin known to the world as the Chafetz Chaim sent an open letter to the editorial team of the Der Moment newspaper. He began: “I heard that an article in your paper expressed surprise that I, of all people, would not avoid lashon hara (gossip) and face-shaming in my protest letter about the rabbinate in Vilna, to which I’ve devoted my life. So now they accuse the Chafetz Chaim of speaking gossip? Can that be?”

To understand the story, we need to go back. At that time, Russian authorities required rabbis to be able to speak Russian and hold university degrees in various secular fields. Naturally, many great Torah scholars didn’t meet these requirements. This led to the appointment of so-called "state rabbis"—officials who often had little or no real knowledge of Torah. In Jewish communities, people joked about these government-appointed rabbis, who had the title but none of the wisdom.

But sometimes, those pushing secular ideas known as the “enlightened”—succeeded in giving a state-appointed rabbi real power and influence, which deeply concerned the Orthodox Jewish community.

Vilna, often called “the Jerusalem of Lithuania,” had long been a center of Torah scholarship. Great rabbis like Rabbi Shlomo HaKohen, Rabbi Bezalel HaKohen, and Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Grodzinsky had served there. When Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer passed away in 1887, his famous son-in-law, Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinsky, took over not officially, but as the clear spiritual authority of the city. He felt it was inappropriate to appoint just one rabbi in a city with so many Torah giants, so he let “Rabbi Kantor,” a government figurehead, remain in place with no real say in religious matters.

In 1910, the secular community tried to push through a major change. They nominated Chaim Chernovitz who was a known secular thinker and student of Bialik and Klausner, to become the state rabbi. Many saw this as a dangerous move. The Orthodox community instead supported Rabbi Rubinstein, a respected Torah scholar who also had the required qualifications. Rabbi Grodzinsky invited him personally and made him promise that he would not interfere with religious life or community affairs and just serve as a figurehead. Rabbi Rubinstein agreed and was appointed, bringing peace to the city.

But peace didn’t last. During World War I, Rabbi Chaim Ozer was forced to flee Vilna due to an arrest warrant against him. When he returned, he discovered that Rabbi Rubinstein had gone back on his word and taken over control of the religious institutions. The Orthodox community objected, but the secular leadership quickly stepped in and told the authorities the protests were invalid, after all, it had been the Orthodox who agreed to his appointment in the first place.

A major rabbinic emergency meeting was held. The greatest Torah leaders of the time including Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinsky, Rabbi Shimon Shkop, Rabbi Pesach Pruskin, Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, the Rabbi of Brisk, Rabbi Hezekiah Yosef Mishkovsky, and others, sent a public call to the Jewish world: don’t let secular activists decide who leads our communities. At the head of this call stood the elderly Chafetz Chaim himself.

In his open letter, the Chafetz Chaim wrote: “How my ears burn from the news coming out of Vilna! They have trampled the foundations of faith with pride and disdain. Evil has risen on our path. They decided, by majority, to distance the great Torah leaders from their influence and to crown someone unworthy. Woe to us that this has happened in our time!”

The reaction from the secular world was swift and sharp. How could the Chafetz Chaim accuse Rabbi Rubinstein like this? Wasn’t it lashon hara, prohibited gossip?

The Chafetz Chaim stood his ground. He replied with a detailed letter, explaining that his words were not gossip but Torah truth, spoken out of responsibility, not hatred. There was no trace of personal insult, only concern for the honor of the Torah and the spiritual future of the Jewish people.

Rabbi Isser Zalman Meltzer, still young at the time, joined in the Chafetz Chaim’s defense. In a now-famous letter, he explained: “If it’s permitted to speak critically about a craftsman when his work is poor, how much more so when someone’s profession is Torah! The community needs to know whether a rabbi is fit to lead. It’s not gossip, it’s truth for the sake of Torah.”

The debate was intense, involving many of the generation’s leading voices. In the end, a compromise was reached. Two rabbis would be appointed: Rabbi Rubinstein, and also Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinsky, this time officially, giving the Orthodox community a Torah leader they could rely on. The crisis in Vilna passed, and peace was restored, at least for a while.

But the story left a lasting message: standing up for Torah values, even in the face of false accusations, is not only allowed, it’s a mitzvah. The Chafetz Chaim’s courage and clarity taught us that speaking out with truth, when it’s done respectfully and with pure intent, isn’t lashon hara at all—it’s leadership.