A Window Into Widows

Part II

In last week’s essay, we started to discuss the etymology of the Biblical Hebrew word almanah(“widow”). In the essay before you, we will continue that discussion and then will treat the words almanta, armela/armalta, and others that seem to be synonymous with almanah. At the end of this essay, we will talk about the name of the Jewish anti-Christ figure, Armilus HaRasha, and speculate on how his name might relate to the discussion at hand.

Moving to the realm of the esoteric, the Zohar (Mishpatim 102a) talks about how it is dangerous for a man to marry a widow because the spirit of her deceased husband might oppose the union. Rabbi Aharon Berechiah of Modena in Maavar Yabok (Sefat Emet ch. 9) writes that this danger is alluded to in the very word almanah which can be read as a portmanteau of al (“no/not”) and manah (“portion”)—a warning that marrying an almanah should not be one’s lot. It should be noted that Rabbi Mordechai Spielman (in Tiferet Tzvi to ZoharMishpatim 102a) writes at great length that this “prohibition” against marrying a widow only exists in Kabbalistic sources, but according to the revealed law as seen in the Talmud, there is nothing wrong with marrying a widow.

The prophet Isaiah foresaw the future downfall of Babylon, saying, inter alia, that “cats will inhabit their almenot” (Isa. 13:22). The meaning of the word almenot in this passage is subject to dispute. One group of commentators sees the word as related to armenot (“castles/palaces”). This group includes such exegetes as Targum Jonathan, Rabbi Saadia Gaon, Rabbi Yehuda Ibn Balaam, Rashi, Mahari Kara, Ibn Parchon, and Radak. Their view is predicated on the interchangeability of the letters lammed and reish, with almenot viewed as the equivalent to armenot. See also Abarbanel and Malbim (to Isa. 13:22) who see the word almenot as related to ulam (“hall”). [For more discussion of armon (“palace/castle”), see “Castle in the Sky” (Nov. 2020).]

However, Ibn Ezra and Ibn Kaspi (to Isa. 13:22) reject this explanation because they (bizarrely) contend that lammed and reish are not interchangeable. Rather, they explain almenot as referring specifically to palaces that have been emptied of their denizens. In this way, the City of Jerusalem after the destruction of the First Temple was similarly described as “like an almanah” (Lam. 1:1) because it had been emptied of its Jewish inhabitants. Rabbi Moshe Sofer’s brother-in-law Rabbi Shlomo Eiger (in Gilyon Maharsha to Ketubot 2a) inverts this discussion and argues that since almenot refers to “deserted castles,” so too does almanah refer to a married woman who has been “deserted” by the death of her husband…

Interestingly, the Laws of Shabbat refer to two different types of domains from which it is forbidden to carry an object from one to the other: a public domain (reshut ha’rabim) and a private domain (reshutha’yachid). But there is also a third type of domain called a karmalit, which is somewhere in the middle. Maimonides (in his commentary to the Mishnah Shabbat 1:1) explains that a karmalit is called so because it is comparable to an almanah. He thus reads the word karmalit as k’armalit, with the initial kaf serving as a grammatical prefix (and he also sees a hidden aleph) to mean “like a widow.” He explains that just as a widow is in an in-between status, whereby she is no longer a maiden but is also not a married lady, so too does the term karmalit represent an in-between type of domain which is neither fully a reshut ha’rabim, nor fully a reshutha’yachid.

Speaking of Maimonides, it is interesting that Maimonides (Laws of Yibbum and Chalitzah 4:34) seems to have coined a new word for “widow” to be used in halachic documents—almanta. It is somewhat strange that Maimonides would make up a new word for something so common that already has a word in Biblical Hebrew and Rabbinic Hebrew/Aramaic. Besides for Maimonides, nobody else uses this word, which is clearly just an Aramaicization of the Hebrew term almanah. But the truth is that the Rabbi Shabsai Frankel edition of Maimonides’ work (Yalkut Shinuyei Nuschaot there) reveals that in manuscripts of Maimonides held at the university libraries of Oxford and Cambridge, the word almanta does not appear, and instead the regular Aramaic word armalta (with which we are already familiar) appears.

Rabbi Ernest Klein in his etymological dictionary of Hebrew writes that almanah and armela are of uncertain origin, but cites that Jacob Barth sees the latter as derived from the triliteral root reish-mem-lammed(related to the Arabic murmil/armal meaning “needy/helpless”), while Theodor Nöldeke and Rudolf Růžička connect these terms with the Aramaic `alima (meaning “feeling pain”).

Here’s where it gets interesting: Armilus is a mythical anti-Messiah figure described in various late Midrashic and medieval Jewish texts. He is often portrayed as a tyrant or demonic leader who will deceive many, wage war against the Jewish people, and ultimately be defeated by the Messiah ben David. He represents the Jewish version of the anti-Christ and is a fascinating figure who emerges from Jewish apocalyptic literature. The name Armilus appears most famously in the Midrashic text from the Geonic period known as the SeferZerubavel, a brief yet haunting work of apocalyptic vision that mixes echoes of Biblical prophecy with later Midrashic traditions.

Throughout the generations, scholars have proposed various theories about the etymology of the name Armilus, and my readers know that any excuse I can find for engaging in onomastics, I will avail myself of. One theory proposed thus far connects the name Armilus to the armillatus Caligula, which would mean that the anti-Messianic monster received his name from the Roman Emperor Caligula’s bracelet. Others have proposed seeing the name as a corruption of the name of the evil Persian-Zoroastrian deity Ahriman or Angro-Mainyus, but most scholars reject these suppositions. The most accepted understanding sees the name Armilus as derived from Romulus, the mythical founder of Rome, or as a corruption of the name Aurelianus (a Roman emperor). 

There is even a suggestion that Armilus derives from a similar Greek name Eremolaos/Eremelaus, which means “destroyer of people,” i.e., the one who leaves people desolate or causes depopulated. This connects Armilus with the idea of a false messiah or anti-Christ figure who causes destruction among the nations.

However, I would like to propose a plausible, though admittedly speculative, etymological approach to understanding the name Armilus as deriving from a Semitic root. One compelling possibility is that this name connects to the Aramaic term armela, meaning “widow.” If this association holds, the name could function as a potent metaphor for the Jewish people’s state of national bereavement in the tumultuous period preceding the Messianic era. Alternatively, it might evoke a sense of spiritual desolation—a collective experience of estrangement or abandonment, as though the Jewish People had been severed from their Divine source of sustenance. This interpretation aligns thematically with eschatological narratives that depict profound dislocation before ultimate redemption, suggesting that the name Armilus may encode a theological commentary on exile and Divine concealment. Even if this understanding is not etymologically or linguistically true, it still makes sense on a drush level.

On a related note, I’d like to highlight a unique and invaluable resource for widows and orphans within the Jewish community: Invisible Tribe by Sara Miriam Gross. This remarkable compilation offers a tapestry of personal narratives, reflections, and words of strength, specifically tailored to those navigating the profound loss of a husband and father. More than just a book, it serves as a communal lifeline—validating grief, fostering resilience, and reminding its readers that they are neither alone nor forgotten. By weaving together voices of shared experience, Invisible Tribe becomes both a comfort and a compass, offering guidance and solidarity to families facing the painful void left by absence. It stands as a testament to the Jewish value of gemilut chasadim(acts of lovingkindness), extending support to those in one of life’s most vulnerable chapters. n

This article has been excerpted from its original. Please visit 5TJT.com to read the full article.

Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein is an author and freelance researcher based in Beitar Illit. He studied in Yeshiva Gedolah of Los Angeles, the Mir Yeshiva in Jerusalem, and Beth Medrash Govoha of America in Lakewood, and received semichah from leading rabbis. He also holds an MA in Jewish Education from Middlesex University/London School of Jewish Studies. Rabbi Klein authored two popular books that were published by Mosaica Press, as well as countless scholarly articles published in various venues. His articles on Hebrew synonyms are commissioned by Yeshivas Ohr Somayach in Jerusalem and have appeared on their website since 2016.