A rare siddur from Satanov: how a 1749 manuscript connected Ukraine, Safed, and the ANU Museum in Tel Aviv

In ANU — Museum of the Jewish People in Tel Aviv, a rare exhibit has appeared that is difficult to perceive simply as an old book. It is a handwritten siddur with the kavanot of Ari, created in 1749 in Satanov — a city that is now located in Ukraine. The prayer book was handwritten by the scribe Israel ben Raphael Segal and is now presented as part of the museum’s permanent exhibition.

For the Israeli audience, this story is especially important. It connects several layers of Jewish memory: Safed and the teachings of Ari, the Jewish communities of Podolia, the manuscript tradition of Eastern Europe, the journey of a family heirloom through the USA, and the return of this book to the public Jewish space already in Tel Aviv.

Not an ordinary prayer book: what is a siddur with the kavanot of Ari

Before the museum visitors is not a standard prayer book for everyday reading. It is a siddur with kavanot, that is, with special mystical intentions that should accompany the prayer. In such a tradition, prayer is understood not only as the recitation of text but also as spiritual work: every word, every combination of names, every internal setting has significance.

The siddur is associated with the teachings of Rabbi Isaac Luria, known as Ari.

He lived in the 16th century, became one of the key figures in Jewish mysticism, and had a huge influence on the Kabbalistic tradition. It is important, however, to emphasize: Ari himself did not compile this siddur. His teachings were recorded and transmitted by his disciples, primarily Rabbi Chaim Vital.

In such manuscripts, the text of the prayer is often accompanied by diagrams, tables, highlights, and combinations of divine names. The Times of Israel notes that the prayer book presented in ANU includes detailed instructions for meditative intentions, as well as visual elements — diagrams and tables. Therefore, this book can be considered not only as a religious text but also as a complex spiritual-graphic system.

According to The Jerusalem Post, the prayers in this siddur are structured according to the Kabbalistic concept of worlds — Atzilut, Beriah, Yetzirah, and Assiah. This makes the manuscript part of a special tradition where the order of prayer correlates with the structure of spiritual reality.

Why it was handwritten

At first glance, it may seem strange that in 1749, when print culture had long existed, such a text was still being handwritten. But in Kabbalistic circles, this was not a sign of technical backwardness, but part of internal discipline.

Such siddurs were not widely distributed in printed form for a long time to limit access to esoteric knowledge. The handwritten format helped keep the text within a narrow circle of people who, according to the beliefs of that environment, were prepared to understand and use it.

The material side of the book also speaks of its significance. The siddur is written in ink on paper and bound in a leather cover, decorated with colored leather inserts and gold leaf. It was not a random notebook for personal notes, but an item in which prayer, knowledge, craft, and status were combined.

Satanov: Ukrainian geography of Jewish mysticism

The origin of the siddur from Satanov is one of the strongest details of this story.

Satanov, or Sataniv in Ukrainian, is now located in the Khmelnytskyi region of Ukraine. Until 1793, it belonged to Poland and was part of historical Podolia. The city was located on the left bank of the Zbruch River, which separated Podolia from Galicia.

For Jewish history, this place is far from peripheral. In the 18th century, Satanov was a leading Jewish community in Podolia. Its synagogue was built as a fortress — not only as a house of prayer but also as a means of protection against Tatar and Cossack attacks.

This detail changes the perception of the exhibit. It is not just an old prayer book found somewhere in Eastern Europe. Before us is a trace of Jewish intellectual and spiritual life on the territory of modern Ukraine — the very Ukraine where communities, yeshivas, Hasidic courts, cemeteries, synagogues, and manuscript traditions existed for centuries.

For NAnovosti — Israel News this topic is also important because it helps to see Ukraine not only through the prism of modern war and politics but also as a space of deep Jewish memory. Satanov, Podolia, Safed, Tel Aviv — these are not disparate points, but parts of one historical map.

From Safed of Ari to Podolia

Ari is primarily associated with Safed — one of the main centers of Jewish mysticism.

Britannica indicates that Rabbi Isaac Luria was born in Jerusalem, spent part of his life in Egypt, and in 1570 arrived in Safed, where his teachings received special development.

Through disciples, manuscripts, and Kabbalistic circles, this tradition spread far beyond the borders of Eretz Israel. In the 18th century, its traces were already visible in Eastern Europe, including Podolia. That is why the siddur from Satanov shows not only local history but also the movement of Jewish thought between the lands of Israel and the diaspora.

The Jerusalem Post also notes that siddurs with the kavanot of Ari influenced subsequent traditions, including the siddur of Rashash — Rabbi Shalom Sharabi — and the prayer practices of the Hasidic movement in Eastern Europe. This is especially important for understanding why such a manuscript is valuable not only as a museum rarity but also as evidence of spiritual continuity.

The path of the book: from personal prayer to museum memory

This copy was rewritten for personal use by Israel ben Raphael Segal — a scribe of Kabbalistic manuscripts. The pages of the siddur have preserved numerous notes, annotations, and ownership marks. They indicate that the book did not lie motionless on a shelf but was used, passed from hand to hand, lived within the religious environment.

Among the ownership traces is mentioned the seal of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Munzon, a descendant of the Hasidic dynasty of Ruzhin. This adds another layer to the story: the siddur turns out to be connected not only with Lurianic Kabbalah but also with the world of Hasidic dynasties of Eastern Europe.

Later, the book ended up in the USA.

It was acquired by the father of Rene Schreiber, and then passed on to his son. Before his death, Rene Schreiber bequeathed to donate the siddur to the museum. Thus, the family heirloom became part of the public exhibition of ANU — Museum of the Jewish People in Tel Aviv.

This route itself resembles the biography of many Jewish items: creation in Eastern Europe, preservation in the family, emigration, life in America, and return to national memory already in Israel. An item that once served one person in prayer now tells the story of an entire people.

Why the exhibit was presented before Lag BaOmer

The appearance of the siddur in the exhibition before Lag BaOmer is not accidental.

This day is traditionally associated with Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and the world of Jewish mysticism. In 2026, Lag BaOmer began on the evening of May 4, and it was during this period that the museum presented the rare Kabbalistic prayer book to the general public.

Such a choice of time enhances the symbolism. Lag BaOmer in Israeli culture is often perceived through bonfires, family trips, and school traditions, but the holiday also has a deep mystical layer. The siddur with the kavanot of Ari draws attention precisely to this side — to the inner work of prayer, to Kabbalistic thought, and to how Jewish tradition was passed down through generations.

For museum visitors, this is not just an opportunity to see a beautiful old book. It is a meeting with a world where prayer was simultaneously a text, a map, a discipline, and a mystery.

Why this story is important today

The 1749 siddur from Satanov is especially relevant now when the conversation about the Jewish heritage of Ukraine is once again resonating in Israel.

Against the backdrop of war, migration, trauma, and the rethinking of historical memory, such exhibits help to see a longer line: Jewish life on Ukrainian lands was not an episode, but one of the important chapters in the history of the people.

This book reminds us that the territory of modern Ukraine was not only a place of pogroms, catastrophes, and losses. It was also a space of scholarship, trade, craft, prayer, Kabbalah, Hasidism, and family continuity. Without this part, it is impossible to honestly tell the story of the Jewish East of Europe.

For Israel, such a manuscript in ANU is also a return of memory to the center of the national narrative. Not in the form of an abstract museum label, but through a specific item: paper, ink, leather, gold, notes, seals, names of owners, and a city on the map of modern Ukraine.

NAnovosti sees in this story not only a cultural news item but also an important bridge between the past and the present. The siddur from Satanov shows how Jewish tradition survives borders, empires, wars, emigrations, and language changes.

It can be handwritten in Podolia, preserved by a family in America, and almost three centuries later become part of an exhibition in Tel Aviv.

That is why this exhibit should be perceived not as a museum rarity for specialists, but as a living testimony. It speaks of the fact that Jewish memory is not stored only in major political dates. Sometimes it is hidden in the margins of an old manuscript, in the seal of a former owner, in a leather binding, and in a prayer once read with special intention.