The Jerusalem Talmud, or as it known in Hebrew, Yerushalmi, is the compilation of some seven generations of rabbinic scholarship, roughly spanning the years 225 to 425 CE. It has long been sidelined by its more frequently studied successor, the Babylonian Talmud, or Bavli. Recently, the late Heinrich Guggenheimer’s English translation of this massive work was added to Sefaria’s online library of Jewish texts. To Zachary Rothblatt, this constitutes “a watershed moment in history”:

Now, Yerushalmi can and will have a place in the cultural conversation of the average [student]. While it remains a difficult text even in translation, its newfound accessibility is unprecedented. . . . Yerushalmi preserves hundreds of [rabbinic] traditions absent in Bavli. Bavli contains many more statements from the first four generations of Eretz Yisrael Amoraim, [that is, the sages active in Roman Palestine from circa 230 to 350 CE], but much less material from the fifth generation and onward.

The numerous traditions common to both Talmuds also present a rich opportunity for direct comparison. As [the medieval sage] Yom Tov ben Abraham Assevilli wrote, “We always rely on their Talmud (i.e., that of the scholars of the Yerushalmi) and interpret and codify our Talmud (the Bavli) based on their words.”

Even if the agreement with Hamas to secure the release of some, and possibly all, of the remaining hostages—and the bodies of those no longer alive—is a prudent decision for Israel, it comes at a very high price: potentially leaving Hamas in control of Gaza and the release of vast numbers of Palestinian prisoners, many with blood on their hands. Nadav Shragai reminds us of the history of such agreements:

We cannot forget that the terrorists released in the Jibril deal during the summer of 1985 became the backbone of the first intifada, resulting in the murder of 165 Israelis. Approximately half of the terrorists released following the Oslo Accords joined Palestinian terror groups, with many participating in the second intifada that claimed 1,178 Israeli lives. Those freed in [exchange for Gilad Shalit in 2011] constructed Gaza, the world’s largest terror city, and brought about the October 7 massacre. We must ask ourselves: where will those released in the 2025 hostage deal lead us?

Taking these painful concessions into account Michael Oren argues that they might nonetheless be necessary:

From day one—October 7, 2023—Israel’s twin goals in Gaza were fundamentally irreconcilable. Israel could not, as its leaders pledged, simultaneously destroy Hamas and secure all of the hostages’ release. The terrorists who regarded the hostages as the key to their survival would hardly give them up for less than an Israeli commitment to end—and therefore lose—the war. Israelis, for their part, were torn between those who felt that they could not send their children to the army so long as hostages remained in captivity and those who held that, if Hamas wins, Israel will not have an army at all.

While 33 hostages will be released in the first stage, dozens—alive and dead—will remain in Gaza, prolonging their families’ suffering. The relatives of those killed by the Palestinian terrorists now going free will also be shattered. So, too, will the Israelis who still see soldiers dying in Gaza almost daily while Hamas rocket fire continues. What were all of Israel’s sacrifices for, they will ask. . . .

Perhaps this outcome was unavoidable from the beginning. Perhaps the deal is the only way of reconciling Israel’s mutually exclusive goals of annihilating Hamas and repatriating the hostages. Perhaps, despite Israel’s subsequent military triumph, this is the price for the failures of October 7.