Jewish Studies at the Turn of the Twentieth Century, Proceedings of the 6th EAJS Congress - Toledo, July 1998, Volume 2: Judaism from the Renaissance to Modern Times

JEWISH STUDIES AT T H E T U R N O F T H E T W E N T I E T H CENTURY V O L U M E II

JEWISH STUDIES AT THE TURN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY Proceedings of the 6th EAJS Congress Toledo, July 1998 Volume II: Judaism from the Renaissance to Modern Times

E D I T E D BY

J U D I T T A R G A R O N A BORRÂS AND

ANGEL SÁENZ-BADILLOS

VOLUME

TWO

' '68 ‫' י‬

BRILL LEIDEN · B O S T O N · KÖLN 1999

Deutsche Bibliothek - GIP-Einheitsaufnahme J e w i s h s t u d i e s a t t h e t u r n o f t h e t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y : proceedings of the 6th EAJS congress, T o l e d o , J u l y 1998 / ed. b y j u d i t T a r g a r o n a Borrâs a n d Angel Sàenz-Badillos. - Leiden ; Boston ; K ö l n : Brill ISBN 90-04-1 1559-5

Vol. I. Biblical, rabbinical, and medieval studies.—1999 ISBN 90-04-1 1554-4 Vol. 2. Judaism from the Renaissance to Modern Times.—1999 ISBN 90-04-1 1558-7

L i b r a r y of C o n g r e s s Cataloging-in-Publication

Data

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication D a t a is also available

ISBN ISBN

90 04 11558 7 (Vol. 2) 90 04 11559 5 (Set)

© Copyright 1999 by Koninkhjke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Brill provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910 Danvers MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. PRINTED IN THE NETHERLANDS

To the memory of Prof. Shelomoh Morag

CONTENTS

PART

ONE

JEWISH MYSTICISM A N D

PHILOSOPHY

PETER SCHÄFER

Jewish Mysticism in the Twentieth Century

3

FRANCESCA ALBERTINI

Ehje asher Ehje: Ex. 3,14 According to the Interpretations of Moses Mendelssohn, Franz Rosenzweig and Martin Buber

19

A M I R A ERAN

The Relevance of Intertextual Interpretation of Texts for the Teaching of Jewish Philosophy: Hermann Cohen and Franz Rosenzweig on Ethos and Eros

27

ROLAND GOETSCHEL

Kawwanah et finalité de la prière dans le Shomer Emûnîm de Joseph ben Emmanuel Ergaz (1685-1730)

34

ALESSANDRO G U E T T A

Avraham Portaleone: From Science to Mysticism

40

IRENE KAJON

The Problem of Divine Justice in Samuel David Luzzatto's Commentary to the Diwan o f j e h u d a Halevi

48

J o s E P PUIG MONTADA

O n the Chronology of Elia del Medigo's Physical Writings

54

R A M Ô N R O D R Î G U E Z AGUILERA

La sabiduria ética de Spinoza, en perspectiva histôrica

57

STEFAN S C H R E I N E R

Rabbanite Sources in Isaac of Troki's SeferHisguq Emunah

65

RUBEN STERNSCHEIN

Tensiones en la interpretation de Ea Religion de la Ra^on

73

ALEXANDER T H U M F A R T

Readings on Cabbala: Giovanni Pico della Mirandola

83

PART

T W O

JEWISH

ART

GABRIELLE SED-RAJNA

Studies on Jewish Art in the Last Fifty Years. A Survey

93

D A V I D CLARK

Social Implications of Spatial Locations of Jewish Museums in Europe .... 106 J.-M. COHEN

A New Approach to the Study of Jewish Ritual Textiles

115

FEDERICA FRANCESCONI

Argenterie hébraïque

à

Modena

(XVIII e —XIX e

siècle)

121

ESTHER GRAF-HABER

Jüdische Maler und Graphiker in Skandinavien von den Anfängen im 17. Jahrhundert bis zum Beginn des 1. Weltkriegs

129

DALIA HAITOVSKY

The Hebrew Inscriptions in Ludovico Mazzolino's Paintings

133

V1NCENZA M A U G E R I

Anciennes Synagogues de Modena

(XVI C -XIX C

siècle)

146

ELIAS V. MESSINAS

Late Synagogues of Greece: Origins and Architecture. The Relationship between Greek Synagogues and Medieval Spanish Synagogues: The Bimah

152

AVIGDOR W . G . P O S È Q

Soutine and El Greco

158

SUZY S I T B O N

L'espace, les formes dessinées par la lettre, le texte dans les bibles hébraïques espagnoles du XIII e siècle

163

E D W A R D VAN V O O L E N

Aspects of Emancipation: Dutch Art and the Jews

PART JEWISH

169

THREE

LITERATURE

BOAZ ARPALY

Jaffa Versus Jerusalem: On the Meaning of the Social-Ideological Composition of Temol Shilshom (Only Yesterday) or A G N O N Prophesizes the Future of the Israeli Society

179

RJSA D O M B

Narration and Nation: Isrsaeli Literature in Fifty Years of Statehood

186

RAQUEL GARCÍA L O Z A N O

Hacia un nuevo nosotros: Aná1isis de la poesîa de Yehudah Amichai

194

GABRIELLA M O S C A T I STEINDLER

Between Ideology and Tradition: Biblical Archetypes in Women's Poetry in Eretz-Israel

202

M A R Í A P É R E Z VALVERDE

El lenguaje como soporte del modelo hermenéutico de la novela Véase: Amor de David Grossman

209

ALICIA RAMOS G O N Z A L E Z

The First Hebrew Women Writers: Writing on the Margins

215

G I L A RAMRAS-RAUCH

Ida Fink and Holocaust Literature

225

Z 0 H A R SHAVIT

The Lost Children of German-Jewish Culture

229

ENCARNACIÔN VARELA

Hypotexts of Leah Goldberg's Sonnets: Ahabatah sheI Teresa di Mon

236

MONIKA ZEMKE

The German-Jewish Writer Arnold Zweig and his Relation to Judaism

PART HISTORY AND

244

FOUR SOCIOLOGY

ELIZABETH A N T É B I

Baron Edmond de Rothschild (1845-1934): From HaNadiv (The Benefactor) to HaNassi (The Prince)

251

LISA ANTEBY

Ethiopians and Russian Immigrants in Israel: Post-Zionist O/im?

257

R I T A BREDEFELDT

Jewish Life in Sweden 1860-1930. Economy and Identity in a Nordic Perspective

265

D A V I D CLARK

Creating Jewish Spaces in European Cities: Amnesia and Collective Memory

274

JUDITH R. COHEN

Music and the Re/Construction of 20th Century Iberian Crypto-Jewish Identity

282

J U D I T H FRISHMAN

The Jews' Refusal to Believe: 19th Century Dutch Polemics Concerning the Jews and Their Fate

293

SYLVIE A N N E G O L D B E R G

Questioning Time

300

IVAN KALMAR

Jewish Orientalism

307

U R I R . KAUFMANN

Historiography on Modern Jewry in Germany after 1945

316

A N N A - R U T H LÖWENBRÜCK

Die Auswirkungen der Emanziparionsgesetzgebung auf die jüdischen Landgemeinden im Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen 1811 bis 1871

323

DANIEL MEIJERS

Europe's Last Pogrom? A Provisional Note on the Sociogenesis of Discrimination and Violence

330

GLORIA M O U N D

Jewish and Marrano Connections in the Relationship of Prinz Luis Salvador of Habsburg and Nathanial von Rothschild

337

KRZYSZTOF PILARCZYK

Zur Zensurfrage der jüdischen Bücher in Polen im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert

346

M A R C LEE RAPHAEL

Rabbi Norman Gerstenfeld's Crusade against Zionism, 1935—1948

354

KAREN LISA G . SALAMON

Setting the Table. Meals as Jewish Socio-Cultural Praxis in Late Modernity

360

BARBARA SCHÄFER

The K E D E M — A Cultural Foundation for Hebrew Culture in Palestine. An Attempt that Failed

368

MARCELLA S I M O N I

"The only little corner of the great British Empire in which no one ever played cricket." Reciprocal Relations in British Palestine: Health and Education (1930-39)

375

A N T H O N Y DAVID SKINNER

Jewish Modernism. The Hidden Meanings of Gershom Scholem's Sabbatei Sevi

384

SANDY SUFIAN & SHIFFRA SHVARTS

"Mission of Mercy" and the Ship that Came too Late: American Jewish Medical Relief to Palestine During World War I

389

ADAM SUTCLIFFE

Sephardi Amsterdam and the European Radical Enlightenment

399

CHAVA WEISSLER

Tkhines for the Sabbath Before the New Moon

PART

406

FIVE

SEPHARDIC

STUDIES

CARMEN ALBERT

El régimen de comparativo y superlativo en la traducciôn ladinada (siglo XV) del Cuyari de Yehudá Halevi

415

TAMAR ALEXANDER & YAAKOV BENTOLILA

Elementos hispânicos y jaquéucos en los refranes judeo-espanoles de Marruecos

421

BEATRIZ A L O N S O ACERO

Entre la aceptaciôn y el rechazo: la presencia judia en Oràn (1589-1639)

430

MARY ALTABEV

The Role of Judeo-Spanish in the Framework of the Turkish Jewish Collective Idendty

440

ROSA ASENJO

Aspectos del neojudeoespafiol en el Me'am lo'e^Sir Halirim

446

AMELIA BARQUÍN

Martirio; cenas de la vida: un folletin de Sam Lévy

451

A N N E T T E BENAIM

"Le dixo tomadlo por Quiduxin." La validez de este fenômeno segûn se refleja en alguna de las responsa sefardies del siglo XVI

457

A N G E L BERENGUER AMADOR

Aspectos lingüisdcos del libro de David M. Atias La giierta de oro (Liorna, 1778)

464

K E N N E T H BROWN

Genio y figura de seis poetas sefardies de Amsterdam, Hamburgo y Livorno de los siglos XVII-XVIII

469

M I G U E L A N G E L DE BUNES IBARRA

Los Sefardies entre la Cristiandad y el Islam en los siglos XVI y XVII

478

J U L I O CAMARENA

Cuento espafiol, cuento sefardi: Paseo por entre dos mundos

485

ESTHER C O H E N

El roi de la mujer judia en la transmisiôn de la cultura sefardi, siglos XVI y XVII

491

FERNANDO D Í A Z ESTEBAN

La fidelidad de los Judios a los Reyes en la Hisioria Universal]udajca de Miguel de Barrios

498

J O S É - M A N U E L GONZALEZ BERNAL

El judeoespanol en los libres de texto de Lingua espaiiola (castellana) y Literatura en las Ensenanzas Médias (Secundaria) en Espafia

504

CARMEN H E R N A N D E Z GONZÀLEZ

Aspectos morfosintâcucos del superlativo en la prensa sefardi de Salônica (1897-1935)

511

IVAN KANCHEV

Solidaridad lingüistica y tolerancia religiosa de los Sefardies balcânicos

517

Y1TZCHAK KEREM

The Fate of Greek Sephardic Cultural Personalides in the Holocaust

523

D O R A Ν . MANTCHEVA

El Dicnonario judeo-espanol-bùlgaro de Albert Pipano como testimonio lexicogrâfico

530

M A CARMEN MARCOS CASQUERO

Las adaptaciones literarias en un "romanzo tresladado": El buraco del inßerno (Esmirna, 1908)

538

MARGALIT MATITIAHU

Comparaciôn entre la poesia en ladino, 1írica y humoristica, en los periôdicos de Salônica (1860-1940) y la poesia lirica y humoristica publicada en Israel (1950-1965)

546

ALMUTH M Ü N C H

Nociôn y realidad de "emancipaciôn" y "asimilaciôn" en dos tipos de textos de influencia publica: Ejemplos del periodismo sefardi de Oriente y el Me'am Lo 'eZ Šir HaŠirim de Hayyim Yishaq Šaki (1899) 555 MARIBEL M U N O Z JIMÉNEZ

El imperativo en judeoespanol

563

ISAAC PAPO

Consideraciones sobre la evolution histôrica de la prensa judeoespanola en Turquia y en los Balcanes

567

HILARY POMEROY

Halia Isaac Cohen's Notebook: A New Sephardic Ballad Collection

Rocfo

578

PRIETO

A propôsito de la copia El testamento de Aman

584

ALDINA QUINTANA RODRÎGUEZ

Proceso de recastellanizaciôn deljudesmo

593

S H M U E L REFAEL

Poemas sin senso (Nonsense Poetry) en la poesia popular sefardi

603

ANA RIANO

Fuentes rabinicas en el Me'am lo'e^Isaias

610

BERND ROTHER

Espanoles filosefardies y primeros falangistas

616

M E S S O D SALAMA

Funciôn y poédca del Romancero biblico sefardi

623

MIRTA SCHNEIDER

La poesia marrana y su proyecciôn en el siglo XXI. Del momento de la expulsion a través de la poesia de J. P. Delgado a su vigencia présente

631

HAIM-VIDAL SEPHIHA

El ladino (judeo-espafiol calco) de Ishac Cardoso

637

M I T C H E L L SERELS

Contribution of Sephardim to the Development of Lusophone Africa

641

E D W I N SEROUSSI

Hacia una tipologia musical del cancionero sefardi

649

HARALAMBOS SYMEONIDIS

El judeoespanol de Tesalônica en contacto con la lengua griega. Investigaciôn sobre ejemplos fonéticos seleccionados

658

C A R M E N VALENTÎN DEL BARRIO

Los extremes de la vida y sus conexiones con el poema judio medieval Lamentaäön del alma ante la muerte

667

SETH W A R D

Converso Descendants in the American Southwest: A Report on Research, Resources, and the Changing Search for Identity 677 SUSANA W E I C H SHAHAK

Temas paneuropeos en la tradition oral del Romancero Sefardi: Preservation y cambio

687

JOHN M . ZEMKE

El alma : el cuerpo :: el piloto : la nave (De anima 413a8): El regimiento de la vida de Moshe Almosnino

694

PRESENTATION In July of 1998 the European Association for Jewish Studies celebrated its Sixth Congress in Toledo, with almost four hundred participants. This singular city, full of historical memories of Jewish life, offered a very attractive, unforgettable setting for a fruitful meeting of Jewish scholars from all over the world. In these Proceedings we have collected a significant portion of the papers and communications that were read during the Conference, including the opening lecture (by Sh. Morag), and the four general lectures (by F. Garcia, S. Reif, P. Schäfer and G. Sed-Rajna). By and large, the papers offer a broad, realistic perspective on the advances, achievements and anxieties of Judaic Studies at the turn of the 20th century, on the eve of the new millennium. Above all, they represent the point of view of the European scholars, enriched with notable contributions by colleagues from other continents that participated in our scientific meeting. The Congress was possible thanks to the collaboration of many individuals and institutions, whom we would like to thank here. First of all, the members of the Honorary Committee, which was presided over by H. M. the Queen of Spain, and included several significant personalities from political and academic life. The Executive Committee of EAJS (that fixed the main lines of the Congress). The fifteen distinguished scholars who agreed to prepare and coordinate the academic aspects of the different sections, and thereby earned our particular gratitude: M. Pérez, J. Rivera, L. Giron, M. Goodman, M. F. Garcia Casar, H. Trautner-Kromann, S. A. Goldberg, G. Abramson, R. Fontaine, M. Schlütter, G. Sed-Rajna, Κ. L. G. Salamon, U. Haxen, E.Romero and A. Sàenz-Badillos. The Organizing Committee also included F. Diaz Esteban, F.J. Fernández Vallina, R. Izquierdo and C. Carrete. We would also like to thank the institutions that offered financial support to the celebration of the Congress: the Fundaciôn Diâlogos, the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, the Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, the Spanish Ministry of Education and Culture, the Museo Sefardi of Toledo and BCH. All the individuals who contributed with practical means or personal help, including the staff and members of the Department of Hebrew and Aramaic Studies of the Universidad Complutense, Madrid, and of the Center for Advanced Judaic Studies of the University of Pennsylvania, as well as E. Alfonso, C. Boon and J. Goertz, who carefully corrected the proofs, have earned our deep gratitude. All of them have helped make the publication of these volumes possible. The original sections of the Congress have been reorganized for publication. This volume is dedicated to the Judaism of modern times, from the Renaissance to our days. The papers have been arranged according to subject: thought, art, literature, history and sociology, and a considerable section on Sephardic Studies (which has been possible with the help of I. M. Hassán and E. Romero). Another volume includes the papers dealing with Jewish studies on biblical, rabbinical and medieval times, as well as Jewish languages and bibliography. Judit Targarona Borrâs and Angel Sàenz-Badillos

PART

ONE

JEWISH MYSTICISM A N D

PHILOSOPHY

JEWISH MYSTICISM IN THE T W E N T I E T H CENTURY PETER SCHÄFER Berlin, Germany and Princeton, USA

When the organizers of this congress first approached me about giving one of the plenary presentations they suggested a lecture on the study of classical Rabbinic literature and of Jewish mysticism in the 20 th century. I don't think they were motivated by a belief in some inherent relationship between the two areas of research, some mysterious affinity hopefully to be revealed by me, but rather, and much more down to earth, with this topic proposal they simply wanted to kill two birds with one stone (if I may use this metaphor), to cover in one lecture two major areas of Jewish Studies. For a moment I was tempted to accept the challenge and to put on, so to speak, first the hat of Rabbinic literature and then that of Jewish mysticism but only for a very brief moment—the two hats, I'm afraid, would have merged all too soon into a clown's cap. So we agreed upon "Jewish mysticism in the 20 th century," not a particularly modest choice either. That I decided in favor of Jewish mysticism instead of Rabbinic literature was not only because of my own (present) predilection but also because I would venture the opinion that, within the array of the various disciplines of Jewish Studies, the 20 th century may be called with some justification the century of Jewish mysticism, and this in the double sense that it is only in the 20 ,h century that research on Jewish mysticism became an academic discipline (nobody will dispute this), and that during this century hardly any other field of Jewish Studies has been as flourishing and, indeed, as fashionable as Jewish mysticism. This second assertion, of cause, may be disputed but I think we can all agree that the history of scholarship on Jewish mysticism in the 20 th century is the history of an unforeseen and most amazing success, certainly by comparison with the previous centuries, in particular with the 19th century. O u t of forgotten books and manuscripts, out of the prejudices of the intellectual leaders of a Jewish world which had submitted itself to the rationalism of Christian (Protestant Christian) spirituality arose a new interest in the mystical dimension of Judaism which now, at the turn of this century, even has to defend itself against the reproach of wanting to put mysticism at the very core of Judaism and, as far as academia is concerned, research on Jewish mysticism at the very core of Jewish Studies. To be sure, this lyric description of the rise of the study of Jewish mysticism out of the intellectual ashes of the 19th century is part of the success story of the discipline and its founder Gershom Scholem, the foil against which his light shines all the brighter. In reaction to this, more recent studies want to prove that the 19th century wasn't as rationalistically dry and anti-mystical as Scholem wants us to believe, that Graetz, Bloch, Jellinek and others should be taken much more

seriously also as scholars of Jewish mysticism and not just be ridiculed. But still, as honorable as such attempts to do justice to the scholars of the 19th century are, nothing about their research can compare with the explosion of systematical, planned, and comprehensive research undertaken in the 20th century and accomplished to a large degree by the founder himself (it is even hard to avoid the impression that the resuscitation of the scholars of the 19th century is not as innocent as it might appear but in fact part of the rebellion against the towering figure of the founding father of the discipline himself). I The history of research on Jewish mysticism in the 20th century is mainly the life-history of Gershom Scholem, of his success and failure, and therefore it shouldn't come as a surprise that I will devote a major part of my deliberations to him.1 When the young Gerhard decided, out of a spirit of rebellion against his parents and the assimilationist world of German Jewry at the beginning of the 20th century, to turn to Kabbalah as the major object of his personal and scholarly interest—in his early autobiography From ‫־‬Berlin to Jerusalem he says explicitly that between 1915 and 1918 he filled many notebooks with excerpts, translations and reflections on the Kabbalah—he started a process the consequences of which were at the time less than clear to him. What he knew at this early stage (he was in his late teens) was that Jewish Studies (which, by the way, he calls in his German writings mostly "Judaistik") had beaten Mathematics, his other and earlier love affair; but within the realm of Jewish Studies he believed Kabbalah would be only a starter, to be succeeded by other areas, in particular by the literature, function and, as he calls it, metaphysics of lament in Hebrew literature. That the preoccupation with Kabbalah was soon to become his lifework which even earned him a living, he couldn't know; when he finally left Germany in 1923 after he had completed his Ph.D. thesis on the Book Bahirix the University of Munich, he still expected to eke out an existence by teaching Mathematics in high schools. What brought Scholem to choose Kabbalah as the object of his research has long been the subject of scholarly debate, especially since his death in 1982. It is true, as Joseph Dan writes that "his road toward the study of kabbalah began with the repudiation of German nationalism and of Jewish assimilationism," that he was "first and foremost a Jewish nationalist," 2 and that his interest in the Hebrew language, in Jewish history, in the study of Talmud and Midrash, and then in Kabbalah (in this order!) is to be seen against the background of his Zionism. It is equally true that he didn't choose Jewish mysticism because he 1

2

What follows is neither an exhaustive evaluation of Scholem's contribution nor, much less, a comprehensive description of the history of Kabbalah scholarship in the 20 lh century. Rather, it is the more modest and, admittedly, at the same time ambitious attempt to highlight some major lines of development and to focus on some problems being discussed at present. I had to leave out many important areas of research and to neglect much progress that has been made in particular fields in the last decades of this century. Dan, J. 1987. Gershom Scholem and the Mystical Dimension ofJewish History. New York and London: New York University Press, 8 ff.

was interested in mysticism in general and wanted to explain Jewish mysticism in the broader framework of mysticism as an encompassing religious phenomenon. But can we simply and categorically conclude from this, as Dan does, that "Scholem did not become a scholar of the kabbalah because he was a kabbalist or a mystic," 3 that the major force behind his interest in Kabbalah was his "outrage at the treatment that the kabbalah had received from previous generations of scholars who had dealt with it"?4 Again, the latter part of Dan's argument is certainly correct: Scholem clearly wanted to open up a neglected field, and he no doubt took great pleasure and satisfaction from the "pioneering adventure" of discovering an unknown continent. 5 However, the former part is less obvious, to say the least. Of course, Scholem wasn't a Kabbalist or a mystic in the sense that he, in the exuberance and ardor of his youth, yearned for mystical experience and therefore became interested in Kabbalah. This is too simplistic an approach to the dichotomy of mystic versus scholar of Jewish mysticism. If one reads From Berlin to Jerusalem carefully, I am not so sure that one acquires, as Dan maintains, just "an impressive amount of detailed information, but not a glimpse of the soul of its author, and almost no answer to the basic questionmarks surrounding his early life."6 When I read the book for the first time I was struck by the continuous emphasis, running as a leitmotif through the whole book, on his quest for the hidden and secret life of Judaism. What Scholem was after, from the very beginning, was Judaism as a living force, something which had been buried much too long under the debris of centuries past. It is because of this ardent quest for what keeps Judaism alive that he turned to the Hebrew language, to Jewish history, to the Talmud, to Kabbalah and, indeed, to Zionism, not the other way around. It was in the Kabbalah that he finally discovered the bubbling source of Judaism's vitality, certainly not the only source but one which had been neglected or rather deliberately suppressed and which needed to be uncovered. To be true, Scholem was first and foremost a historian and, as he himself often put it, a philologist of the Kabbalah (he saw a deep relationship between history and philology) but his notion of a historian and historical research is far more complex than a simple juxtaposition of historian of Jewish mysticism versus mystic may suggest. We have known this ever since 1979 when David Biale first published Scholem's famous letter to Salman Schocken, written in October 1937.7 In this letter, which he gave the title "A Candid Word about the True Motives of my Kabbalistic Studies," he explains in detail what brought him to the Kabbalah and what he hoped to find in it. It opens with the clear statement: In no way did I become a 'Kabbalist' inadvertendy. I knew what I was doing—only it seems to me now that I imagined my undertaking to be much too easy. When I was about to put on the hat of the philologist and withdrew ‫נ‬ 4 5 6 7

ibid., 9. Ibid. Ibid., 10. Ibid., 5. Biale, D. 1979. Gershom Scholem. Kabbalah and Counter-History. Cambridge, Mass., and London: Harvard University Press, 215 f., English translation, 31 f.

from mathematics and epistemology into a much more dubious field, I had scarcely any knowledge of my subject, but I was full of 'insights'.

These sentences describe precisely his shift from mathematics and epistemology to Kabbalah, and the tools he takes with him to enter the field of Kabbalah are those of the philologist-historian. However, Biale's translation "when I was about to put on the hat of the philologian" conceals the irony behind this statement. The German original reads: "Als ich mich daran machte, den Schafpelz des Philologen anzuziehen," "when I was about to put on the sheep's clothing of the philologist," i.e., Scholem masquerades as the wolf in sheep's clothing, the fellow philologist among the peaceful and honest philologists. But in reality he conceals under his sheep's clothing a very different purpose, something which goes far beyond what the tools of philology and historical research can achieve. He pretends to be a philologist but in reality he is or rather wants much more: he is in search of the "secret life of Judaism," as he explicitly says in the letter, a "higher level" of Judaism beyond the rationalistic atrophy of Jewish philosophy, and he "sensed such a higher level in the Kabbalah. [...] It seemed to me that here, beyond the perceptions of my generation, existed a realm of associations which had to touch our own most human experiences." The wolf in sheep's clothing is the mystic masquerading as a philologist in order to find the mystical truth behind the "misty wall of history." T o be sure, there is only one way through the "misty wall of history" to this hidden truth, to the "mountain, the corpus of things" (in German: "das Korpus der Dinge"), namely "historical criticism and critical history." Only the "legitimate discipline of the commentary" and the "odd mirror of philological criticism" can make visible the "mystical totality of truth, whose existence disappears particularly when it is projected into historical time." In other words, the mystical truth disappears when projected into history and still, there is no other way to approach it. But the philologist, or rather the philologist-mystic, doesn't rely only on himself and on his philological tools; these tools alone would never lead him to the desired mountain, as the last sentence of the letter makes clear: Today, as at the very beginning, my work lives in this paradox, in the hope of a true communication from the mountain, of that most invisible, smallest fluctuation of history which causes truth to break forth from the illusions of "development."

As it becomes evident now, the "mountain" is Mount Sinai, the mount of the divine revelation, and it is the "communication from this mountain" (in German: "das richtige Angesprochenwerden aus dem Berge") which, if only for a brief moment, reveals truth. The historian depends on the "communication," although he has no other way to approach the mountain but through historical research. Both the tools of the philologist-historian and the revelation from the mountain accomplish the desired goal, the mystical truth, neither the mystic alone nor the historian alone; the modern mystic is the historian, who has done his homework and to whom is revealed "the smallest fluctuation of history which causes truth to break forth from the illusions of 'development'."

Scholem claims in the last sentence of his letter to Schocken that the paradoxical relationship between the mystic and the historian of mysticism guided his work "today," i.e., 1937, "as at the very beginning," i.e., around 1915/1916. That this is not the retrospective illusion of the more mature Scholem of 1937 but refers back to concrete historical circumstances can be proven now from a text which I found in the Scholem archive in the Jewish National and University Library in Jerusalem. This text is preserved in two almost identical versions, one as the introduction to a longer and unpublished essay entitled "Reflections on the meaning and appearance of the Kabbalah" ("Betrachtungen über den Sinn und die Erscheinung der Kabbala"), and the other under the title " O n the Kabbalah viewed (from) beyond" ("Über die Kabbala, jenseits betrachtet"); both are dated to "1921" and "Munich 1921" respectively. I have published and analyzed this hitherto unknown text in an article in the last issue of Jewish Studies Quarterly, and I will not go into detail here. 8 What most strikes the reader is that the new text is to a large degree identical with the letter to Schocken (however with some significant differences which I point out in the article), i.e., that already during his Munich period when he was writing his dissertation on the Book Bahir Scholem expressed ideas very close to those in his private letter to Schocken or, to put it differently, that the young Scholem at the age of 24 was already deeply concerned about the relationship between the mystic and the historian, between mystical and historical truth. The Ph.D. thesis on the Bahir is a prime example of the kind of philological analysis he has in mind in his letter to Schocken and in the new text of 1921; it consists, as Dan correctly observes, "of notes and references" and reveals very little "of the mystical gnostic spirit of the Bahir'"'— and yet, it was precisely at this time that he wrote his "Reflections," showing the "empathy and connectedness," 10 which we miss in his dissertation and his early writings. Hence we can now prove that Scholem did "hide his innermost empathy with mysticism in these early studies" as Dan hesitantly suspects (which in my opinion excludes the alternative, also suggested by Dan, that he developed it somewhat later in his scholarly career): from the very beginning of his preoccupation with Kabbalah Scholem was aware of the tension between mysticism and research on mysticism; as a matter of fact this tension determined most of his life, albeit most probably to a diminishing degree, but he was very reluctant to make this awareness public. As his further deliberations show, he even toyed with this tension and liked playing the role of the wolf in the sheep's clothing, of the philologist among philologists. The only published version of some of the ideas expressed in his "Reflections" from 1921 and his letter to Schocken from 1937 is the first sentence of his "Ten Unhistorical Aphorisms on Kabbalah" ("Zehn unhistorische Sätze über Kabbala"), published in 1958 in the Festschrift

8

9

10

See Schäfer, P. 1998. " 'Die Philologie der Kabbala ist nur eine Projektion auf eine Fläche': Gershom Scholem über die wahren Absichten seines Kabbalastudiums.‫״‬yjj2 5, 1-25. Dan 1987: 11.

Ibid.

for Daniel Brody.11 This is a remote echo of the earlier versions, which resolves the original tension between the mysdc and the historian in favor of a clear division of labor, in which the Professor of Jewish mysticism seems to have overcome the mystic. And even this pale version he didn't want to become widely known. In an unpublished letter of March 1960 to his former student Joseph Weiss he wrote: It was with that pleasurable satisfaction felt by readers of murder mysteries that I read your remarks on my article in the Festschrift for Brody, which was published exacdy a year ago in Zurich. I said then (to myself) with good reason that only someone like yourself could understand its significance, all the more so because at the time you went on to comment on my relationship to this world with which I preoccupy myself: this time I have done something that people would not have expected of me, and written things that I should not have written, and, given that I have written them, should not have published (the reason for publishing them was that I was asked to contribute something that I never intended under normal circumstances to publish!!). But seeing that this has now happened, I also wanted to have the things published, but just didn't want to mention it to anyone or to give anyone offprints ..., and wanted to wait and see who among my pack of Kabbalists would discover it for themselves! It wasn't meant to be malicious, but rather to test for thoroughness and for the sixth sense (the bibliographical) as well, which masters of the mystery need to possess. I've made myself, albeit not in the way you mentioned back then, into one of those figures who hide themselves in their own well-known paintings ...12

This last sentence refers to an article published by Weiss in 1947 on the occasion of Scholem's 50th birthday, in which Weiss speaks of Scholem's esoteric trick of hiding himself in his writings like the medieval painters who smuggled themselves into the features of one of the figures in their paintings: "With voluminous volumes of texts and philological details he publicly reduces the figure of the metaphysic to that of the scholar. [...] The secret metaphysic dresses himself as the exact scientist. Scholarship is Scholem's incognito. Thus nobody can really know what Scholem wanted to find in the Kabbalah." 13 Indeed, the master of masquerade revealed to the public only the toned down version of his innermost thoughts, and it is only this version which he lets his student Weiss discover. The letter to Schocken he made public only when he was afraid of having been completely misunderstood by the young David Biale in his dissertation Gershom Scholem. Kabbalah and Counter-History, published in 1979. The much earlier "Reflections" were never published by him.

11

12

Scholem, G. 1958. "Zehn unhistorische Sätze über Kabbala." In Geist und Werk. Aus der Werkstatt der Autoren des Rhein-Verlages spm 75. Geburtstag von Dr. Daniel Brody. Zürich: Rhein-Verlag, 209-215. See Schäfer 1998: 22f. Scholem, G. 1994. Briefe I: 1914-1947. Ed. I. Shedletzky. Munich: Beck, 459.

II Let me now summarize briefly the main stages in Scholem's career as a historian of Jewish mysticism before I turn to his critics. Already in July 1925, when he was still a librarian at the Jewish National Library, hoping to be appointed lecturer in the newly founded Institute for Jewish Studies at the newly founded Hebrew University (as a matter of fact the Institute was opened before the ceremonial opening of the university), he wrote his later-to-become-famous letter to Haim Nahman Bialik, in which he outlined in meticulous detail his future research program in Jewish mysticism.14 We know now that he did not complete most of this quite optimistic program and that some very important topics of his later research had yet to emerge, but two features of the letter are worth mentioning. First, his predominant interest in the antiquity of the Kabbalah, in its early origin, and second, his awareness of the neglected state of the field and the emphasis he puts on the necessary Vorarbeiten (groundwork) before any serious historical work can be done. Both aspects would continue to be part and parcel of his future scholarly life. As to the latter, the Vorarbeiten, he knew very well that only a survey of all the relevant Kabbalisric manuscripts scattered in the libraries of Europe and America, the subsequent analysis and, if possible, publication of these manuscripts, i.e., that only much arduous and painstaking work could pave the way toward a comprehensive description of the historical development of Jewish mysticism throughout the centuries. The former, the predominant interest in the antiquity of the Kabbalah, guided him for many years. His inaugural lecture at the Institute for Jewish Studies, delivered in November 1925, a few months after his letter to Bialik, was dedicated to the quesdon "Was R. Mose de Leon the author of the Zohar?"15 and tried to prove, in opposition to his great antipode Graetz, that he indeed was not. (According to Graetz the Zohar was nothing but a big forgery, written completely at the end of the 13th century by Mose de Leon, who claimed that it was the work of the Tanna R. Simeon b. Yohai). The Zohar, Scholem argues, is composed of many layers which reach back into late antiquity and of which Mose de Leon is only the last link in the chain. The reasons for this anti-Graetz are obvious: Graetz had despised the Kabbalah because of his misguided rationalism; if his rationalism proved to be wrong, then the results of his research had to be wrong, too. It took Scholem more than ten years to revise his own prejudices and to acknowledge that Graetz was right, despite his questionable premises, and that Mose de Leon was indeed the author of the Zohar. This change of mind does not just reflect the end of a minor and long forgotten scholarly debate (as a matter of fact the question of the authorship of the 14

15

Published for the first time on December 1967 in Ha-Po'et ha-T^a'ir—Shevu'on Mißeget Po'a/e Eret^-Yisra'el 39 (11), 18-19; German transladon in Scholem, G. 1997. Judaica 6: Die Wissenschaft vom Judentum, ed., transi, from the Hebrew, and provided with an afterword by P. Schäfer, in cooperation with G. Necker and U. Hirschfelder. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 55-67. Many of the desiderata mentioned in this letter have been dealt with in the meantime, less by Scholem himself but rather by other scholars; some have become a sub-discipline of their own, others are still open. See in more detail Scholem 1997: 86-90. Published in Madda'ei ha-Yahadut 1, 1925/26, 16-29 (Hebr.).

Zohar was reopened quite recently with much fervor by Yehuda Liebes)16 but signals a breakthrough on the part of Scholem to the truly historical dimension of Jewish mysticism. In the period between 1921 and 1936 Scholem concentrated on the Vorarbeiten of searching for and analyzing the manuscripts, publishing many learned articles in Hebrew journals (in particular on the two Cohen brothers, the outstanding representatives of the Castilian Kabbalah in the second half of the 13th century); now he turned to the work of summarizing the results of these detailed studies and of putting them in a broader historical context. He clearly followed the maxim, directed in 1944 against his own colleagues in Jerusalem in his famous essay Mitokh hirhurim 'al hokhmat Yisra'el ("Reflections upon the Wissenschaft des Judentums"): 17 "Woe betide a scholarship, which renounces summarizing its results, but a sevenfold woe betide a scholarship, which summarizes its results before having analyzed, clarified, and squeezed out all the details." N o doubt, Scholem had done his homework before he started summarizing his results and defining the general historical and cultural meaning of the Kabbalah. This new period of Scholem's scholarly development was inaugurated by a veritable thunderbolt: his 1936 essay on the Sabbatian movement, Mtt^wah haba'ah ba-'averah,18 later published in English under the title "Redemption through Sin." 19 This revolutionary essay not only threw new light on the deeply mystical and religious sources of this doomed movement, it placed Sabbatianism for the first time in the broader historical context of the expulsion from Spain in 1492 and the Lurianic Kabbalah on the one hand, and the Haskalah and Jewish emancipation of the late 18lh and the early 19th centuries on the other. As J. Dan puts it: "Suddenly scholars and readers were brought to the realization that the symbolism of the kabbalah was not just a curious, mildly interesting, marginal aspect of Jewish culture but was a source that could supply many answers to basic, perplexing problems of Jewish history." 20 Immediately after the publication of this essay Scholem started to write a series of lectures to be delivered in 1938 at the Jewish Institute of Religion in New York, which was to become his most famous and influential book Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism, first published in English in 1941 and translated into many languages. This was the first attempt to describe the historical development not only of the Kabbalah in the more narrow sense of the word but, as the tide suggests, of Jewish mysticism in general. The book starts with a general outline of Jewish mysticism (the first chapter is called "General Characteristics of Jewish Mysticism"), a topic to which he never returned, and then unfolds its subject in chronological order: from "Merkabah Mysticism and Jewish Gnosticism" 16

17

18 19

20

Liebes, Y. 1993. Studies in the Zohar. Albany, N.Y: State University of New York Press, 85-138, 194-227. Published for the first time in Luah ha-Aretz Tel Aviv 1944, 94-112; easily available in Scholem, G. 1975. Devarim he-Go, ed. A. Shapira, vol. 2, Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 385-403; German transladon in Scholem 1997: 9 - 5 2 (quotadon 51). Kennet 2, 1936/37, 347-92. In Scholem, G. 1971. The Messianic idea in Judaism and Other Essays on Jewish Spirituality. New York: Schocken, 78-141. Dan 1987: 21.

through "Hasidism in Mediaeval Germany," "Abraham Abulafia and the Doctrine of Prophetic Kabbalism," "The Zohar" (in two long chapters on the book and its author, and on the theosophical doctrine), "Isaac Luria and his School," "Sabbatianism and Mystical Heresy" up to "Hasidism: the Latest Phase." In the Preface to the first edition Scholem apdy describes the interplay between the thorough and painstaking philological analysis of sources and the slowly emerging synthesis of a general picture of Jewish mysticism: It was a beginning in more than one sense, for the task which confronted me necessitated a vast amount of spade-work in a field strewn with ruins and by no means ripe as yet for the constructive labours of the builder of a system. Both as to historical fact and philological analysis there was pioneer work to be done, often of the most primitive and elementary kind. Rapid bird's-eye syntheses and elaborate speculations on shaky premises had to give way to the more modest work of laying the secure foundations of valid generalization. Where others had either disdained close acquaintance with the sources of what they frequendy rejected and condemned, or erected some lofty edifice of speculation, I found myself constrained by circumstances and by inclination to perform the humble but necessary task of clearing the ground of much scattered debris and laying bare the outlines of a great and significant chapter in the history of Jewish religion. [...] As the innumerable and often laborious investigations of detailed points neared completion, the outlines became less blurred, and presently there emerged from the confusing welter of facts and fiction a picture, more or less definite though not at all points complete, of the development of Jewish mysticism, its inner significance, its problems and its meaning for the history of Judaism in general. 21

As one immediately notices from the table of contents of Major Trends, there are many gaps in the chronological sequence of the unfolding of Jewish mysticism throughout the centuries. In particular, the beginnings of the Kabbalah in the 12th and 13th centuries in the geographical area of Southern France and Spain are conspicuously absent. Scholem jumps, as it were, from Merkavah mysticism, which he locates in Palestine in the first centuries of the Christian era, to the Ashkenazi Hasidim, who flourished from about 1150 to 1250 in Germany, and to the Zohar in late 13 ,h -century Castile, the highlight of what he calls the theosophical Kabbalah, stopping off in the middle to put in a chapter on Abraham Abulafia and his prophetic or ecstatic Kabbalah. However, he was fully aware of this gap. In 1948 he published his first summary in Hebrew on the early Kabbalah, Reshit ha-Qabbalah (Jerusalem 1948), to be followed in 1962 by a completely revised and more than doubled version in German, Ursprung und Anfänge derKabbala (Berlin 1962): it was this book—and it was probably no coincidence that he wrote it in German—which brought to fruition what his Munich dissertation of 1923 on the Bahir so hopefully and boldly had begun. Five years before this, in 1957, he had published his definite work on Sabbatai Zevi, which completed his earlier essay "Redemption through Sin" and the respective chapter in

21

Quotation from the 1995 reprint, New York: Schocken, XXV.

Major Trends·. Shabbetai T%vi weha-tenu'ah ha-shabbeta'it bimei hayyaw (translated into English only in 1973 and into German in 1992).22 Ursprung und Anfänge der Kabbala was the last major monograph by Scholem to appear. During the last twenty years of his life, from 1962 until his death, he published many articles and collections of articles, among them a series of lectures on Merkavab mysticism he had given at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in New York (under the title Jewish Gnosticism, Merkabah Mysticism, and Talmudic Tradition, first published in 1960, and in a second and enlarged edition in 1965). Most influential among a wider public have been the revised editions of many of his Eranos lectures in collections like Zur Kabbalah und ihrer Symbolik (Zurich 1960; On the Kabbalah and its Symbolism, New York 1965) and Judaica (the first four volumes). He started to participate in the annual meetings of the Eranos society in Ascona, which was deeply inspired by the Jungian school of psychology, as early as 1949 and kept faith with them until 1979, i.e., until shortly before his death. He was clearly no follower of Jung but seemed to have found in the Eranos conferences a worthwhile audience for disseminating his ideas on Jewish mysticism outside the inner circle of specialists in Israel and the United States. Another important summary and revision of the major characteristics and the historical development of the Kabbalah are his articles in the Encyclopaedia Judaica (1972), collected for easy reference in the volume Kabbalah (Jerusalem 1974). Last but not least, the last period in his scholarly life bore fruits like the memories of his youth Von Berlin nach Jerusalem (Frankfurt a.M. 1977) and the history of his friendship with Walter Benjamin. 23 Ill The picture of Jewish mysticism that Scholem drew during the greater part of this century is still admired today (although it is striking that a "Scholem school of Kabbalah" in the proper sense of the word doesn't exist and probably never did exist), but since his death in 1982 it has been contested by a younger generation of scholars, most notably at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem which he dominated for so many years. This is, of course, a most natural process, which Scholem would have been the last person to disapprove of, but it has some very unfortunate and even tragic implications, which seem to plumb the depths of the human soul and which psychoanalysts might want to call the desire for patricide. In addition to the many gaps which are now being filled in the course of continuing research and to the discussion on and correction of many details in the huge edifice, not of speculation but of solid foundations which he erected, there are three fundamental conclusions or presuppositions (depending

22

23

Scholem, G. 1973. Sabbatai Sevi. The Mystical Messiah 1626-1676. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press; Scholem, G. 1992. Sabbatai Zwi. Der mystische Messias. Frankfurt a.M.: Jüdischer Verlag. Scholem, G. 1975. Walter Benjamin—die Geschichte einer Freundschaft. Frankfun a.M.: Suhrkamp; Scholem, G. 1980. Walter Benjamin/Gershom Scholem. Briefwechsel 1933-1940. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp. I do not agree with J. Dan's apodicdc judgment that subjects like Walter Benjamin, Jewish-German relations, and the Wissenschaft des Judentums movement "were never very important to Scholem" (Dan 1987: 31).

on the point of view) that have come under fierce attack in the post-Scholem era: his insistence on the Gnosis as a dynamic force in Jewish history (from Merkavah mysticism to the Bahir and the Castilian version of the Kabbalah), his assessment of the expulsion of the Jews from Spain as a major factor in reshaping the Kabbalah in the 16th century (in particular with regard to Messianic implications), and, above all, the emphasis he put on what he called the theosophical strand of the Kabbalah as opposed to the prophetic or ecstatic Kabbalah, of which Abraham Abulafia is the most prominent representative. I will deal only with the last and, in my opinion, most influential argument against Scholem's view of the Kabbalah. Among the most fervent critics of Scholem and his definition of Jewish mysticism is Moshe Idel of the Hebrew University (by the way, not a direct student of Scholem). In the introduction to his well-known book Kabbalah: New Perspectives24 and, in a briefly and polemically summarized form, in a lecture delivered at the Berlin conference celebrating the 50lh anniversary of Scholem's Major Trends,25 he has established a phenomenology of Jewish mysticism, which can be reduced to a few key terms. I will summarize and, for the sake of convenience, designate them, as type (a) and type (b): (a) is mythic or mythocentric, symbolic, theocentric, theosophical (this is the most important term of the a-type), seftrotic (i.e., designing the system of the 10 Sefirot, the ten dynamic potencies within God), theurgic (i.e., influencing the inner life of God by means of prayer and by performing the mit^wot), nomian (i.e., centered on the Halakhah), canonical, exoterically open to all Jews, less mystical, not interested in the union with God. (b) is anthropocentric, ecstatic (the most important term of the b-type), esoteric, sublime, anomian, individualistic, intended to induce paranormal experiences, mystical par excellence, aiming at the union with God. Here we have the two strands of mysticism described also by Scholem but expressed in an extreme and radically opposed way. Moreover, Scholem is explicitly accused of not only emphasizing the a-type and neglecting the b-type of Jewish mysticism but of even deliberately suppressing the b-type. It is Idel himself, who in using his phenomenological method has finally done justice to the b-type, the true form of Jewish mysticism, so he argues. Regarding the historical development of Kabbalah, Idel's categorization comes to the following conclusion: The a-type manifests itself in the early theosophical and theurgic mysticism of Rabbinic Judaism, in the Kabbalah in 12th century Provence, and, above all, in what Scholem calls mainstream Kabbalah, the Zohar in Spain (late 13th century), as well as in Isaak Luria's school in Safed in the 16th century. The b-type starts with Merkavah mysticism of the Hekhalot literature, continues with the Ashkenazi Hasidim, i.e., the German pietists of the 12th and 13th centuries, finds its climax in the prophetical Kabbalah of Abraham Abulafia 24 25

New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1988. Idel, M. 1993. "The Contribution of Abraham Abulafia's Kabbalah to the Understanding of Jewish Mysticism." In Gershom Scholem's Major Trends in ]emsh Mysticism: SO Yean After. Ed. P. Schäfer and J. Dan. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 117-143.

(1240-1291), continues with the Safed branch as well as with Sabbatianism in the 17,h century and with Eastern European Hasidism in the 18th and 19,h centuries, and has its last ramifications in mystical movements in contemporary Israel and America. I shall leave out other classifications resulting from this rather stereotype confrontation of the a- and b‫־‬types, except for one, which, I believe, is highly significant for Idel's approach and which has implications, too, for the modern study of Jewish mysticism. Finally, Idel argues, even those who deal with Jewish mysticism (as well as the methodological tools they use) can be classified according to two categories: first, the modern, "secular" academics mainly of the Scholem school, who, with their historical-philosophical methods, are primarily or exclusively occupied with the a-type of Jewish mysticism, and second, contemporary orthodox Jews, who prefer the b-type and are surprisingly open to (Idel's) phenomenological approach. Moreover, Idel continues, Scholem's emphasis on the a-type unfortunately has led some scholars to conclude that Jewish mysticism is devoid of the essence of mysticism, that it shouldn't even be called mysticism at all. This negation of the core of mysticism (which, of course, is the unio mystica) in Jewish mysticism, Idel argues, assumes with Christian scholars like Carl G. Jung (the famous psychoanalyst and renegade pupil of Freud) and Robert C. Zaehner (a well-known historian of religion of Scholem's generation) an overtly anti-Jewish bias. I cannot discuss here possible anti-Jewish implications in the works of Jung or of Zaehner (although I am convinced that Jung's message clearly has andJewish elements), but there can be no doubt that Jung and in particular Zaehner (who explicitly quotes Scholem) used Scholem to deny Jewish mysticism the essence of mysticism, the mystical union of man with God. The following quotation from Zaehner is indeed revealing: If mysticism is the key to religion, then we may as well exclude the Jews entirely from our inquiry: for Jewish mysticism, as Professor Scholem has so admirably portrayed it, [...] would not appear to be mysticism at all. Visionary experience is not mystical experience: for mysticism means, if it means anything, the realization of a union or a unity with or in something that is enormously, if not infinitely, greater than the empirical self. With the Yahweh of the Old Testament, no such union is possible. [...] [I]t is therefore in the very nature of the case that Jewish 'mysticism' should at most aspire to communion with God, never to union. 26

This is a blundy anti-Jewish statement, but it is not very fair, to say the least, to hold Scholem responsible for it. Neither does Scholem refer to the "Yahweh of the Old Testament," nor does he argue that the mystical union is the very essence of any kind of mysticism (this is Zaehner's prejudice), nor does he maintain that there is no mystical union at all in Jewish mysticism. All he says in Major Trends is that the mystical union is a useless parameter for measuring mysticism, Jewish or non-Jewish (and with this argument he comes close to Bernard 26

Zaehner, R. C. 1958. At Sundry Times. London: Faber and Faber, 171, as quoted by Idel 1988: 134.

McGinn, the eminent modern scholar of Christian mysticism), that "it would be a mistake to assume that the whole of what we call mysticism is identical with that personal experience which is realized in the state of ecstasy or ecstatic meditation. Mysticism, as an historical phenomenon, comprises much more than this experience, which lies at its root." 27 Idel tries to prove in most of his works that the striving for mystical union is a predominant characteristic of Jewish mysticism, that the b-type of his classification is the predominant type of Jewish mysticism, that indeed Jewish mysticism may be called mysticism like any other mysticism, in particular Christian mysticism. This, I am afraid, is an apologetic approach which does justice neither to Scholem nor to Jewish mysticism. It would be easy to ridicule the schematic classification of Idel's a- and b-types. If they are of any use, then it is only to show that there is an ongoing dichotomy within Jewish mysticism of related as well as contrasting and even conflicting elements. This dichotomy between theosophical and ecstatic, community-oriented and individualistic, theocentric and anthropocentric, nomian and anomian, exoteric and esoteric etc., this dichotomy and tension is what characterizes Jewish mysticism. Discussing to what degree the one is more mystical and the other less so is pointless and of no help in illuminating one of the most fascinating and fruitful trends of the Jewish religion. And it is of not much help either to divide up scholars into those who are in danger of denying Jewish mysticism its mystical core (in his article Idel even reveals the names: Joseph Dan, Isaiah Tishby, R. J. Zwi Werblowsky, and Peter Schäfer)—and who consequently provide Christian scholars with their antiJewish arguments—and those, who follow Moshe Idel in his quest for the living, ecstatic experience of Jewish mysticism. At least Scholem, the scholar and the person (as I have argued at the beginning), is much more complex than Idel's schematic black-and-white picture wants us to believe. IV As we approach the end of this century, the overlord dominating the field of Jewish mysticism for most of it, has died, and the rebels against this towering father figure are also growing older. It is only natural that their approach and their methodological presuppositions should now come under closer scrutiny. N o doubt, they have added immensely to Scholem's picture of the development of Jewish mysticism, which he himself called, in his characteristic mixture of modesty and self-confidence, "more or less definite though not at all points complete." 28 They have made it much more complete, filling in many more details, and correcting not a few of his mistakes or premature conclusions. But they followed him also in his self-confidence, in what he expressed so inimitably in his Preface to Major Trends·. "I owe a debt of gratitude to those among my predecessors in this field whose footsteps I have followed, but honesty compels

27 28

Scholem 1995: 5. Ibid., XXV.

me to add that on most points my later views have very little in common with their own." 29 Let me briefly turn to the most recent attack or rather sweeping blow against the two most prominent representatives of the new Jerusalem school, Moshe Idel and Yehuda Liebes, by a young scholar called Gil Anidjar, until now completely unknown in the field of Kabbalah Studies. His article, published in Jewish Social Studies,30 bears a tide which is hard to digest: "Jewish Mysticism Alterable and Unalterable: On OrienAng Kabbalah Studies and the 'Zohar of Christian Spain'." In printing "Orient" in the word "Orienting" in italics the author clearly indicates the main direction of his argument: he wants to prove that not only Scholem's research but also that of his successors, who claim to be so independent of him, is dictated by their predilection for myth, for all things Greek, and, since there is a direct line from myth and Greek culture to Christianity, for the Christian context of Kabbalah, in particular with regard to the Zohar. This, he argues, is nothing but "Jewish Orientalism," "a specific attempt to (re)10cate Jewish mysticism vis-à-vis the Orient and the Oriental and its alleged binary opposite: Greek and Christian thought and culture." 51 Moreover, since the "Orient" is associated with "femininity" and worse, "homosexuality," in orienting Kabbalah research toward the Christian West, Jewish Orientalism "participates in the constitution of sexual boundaries." 32 This is, as I said, a sweeping blow, and the rather lengthy article is as hard to digest as the tide already suggests. The author, inspired by Edward Said's Orientalism and modern cultural studies, has taken on an ambitious project to which he clearly doesn't stand up. Moshe Idel has deemed Anidjar worthy of a long rejoinder with the no less complicated tide "Orienting, Orientalizing or Disorienting the Study of Kabbalah: 'An Almost Absolutely Unique' Case of Occidentalism" 33 —the reader doesn't know what is more remarkable, the very fact of the rejoinder or its forced ironical tone. Of course, Idel doesn't find it difficult to reject Anidjar, to point to Anidjar's fashionable biases, and to show in minute detail and with many quotations from his own work that Anidjar is wrong, that he has misunderstood or even deliberately misquoted him (or deliberately suppressed quotations which show the opposite of what he wanted to argue); in particular he proves that, contrary to Anidjar's main argument, he and his colleagues have adduced wealthy evidence of Islamic and Arabic influence on the Kabbalah. All this or most of this may be correct, but still there remain two arguments raised by Anidjar which do throw a light on the present state of Kabbalah Studies and which probably need more serious consideration than that suggested so far by Idel. The first is the triad of the three basic concepts of "symbol," "myth," and "mysticism," to which Anidjar devotes a great part of his article, arguing that they are the major categories which dominate the research of Scholem as well as 29 30 31 32 33

Ibid. N.S. 3 , 1 9 9 6 / 9 7 , 8 9 - 1 5 7 . Ibid., 112. Ibid., 122. Kabbalah 2, 1997, 13—47.

of his successors; in other words, that with regard to the underlying concepts there has been no change after Scholem and certainly no "Copernican révolution," as Ivan Marcus proclaimed it when reviewing Idel's Kabbalah: New Perspecrives·.** "the basic terms and questions that determine the scholarly endeavor surrounding Kabbalah," Anidjar maintains, "have fundamentally not changed." 35 O r to quote Scholem, who reflects his own viewpoint after his vigorous attack against the Wissenschaft des Judentums in his famous essay written in 1944: Banu limrod we nimt^enu mamshikhim, "We came to rebel and found ourselves as successors." 36 Even Idel concedes that this is an "original proposal," to find out what are the "main categories that organize the scholarly discourse, and criticize them one by one." 37 However, Idel contents himself with demonstrating that he has never argued the centrality of myth and symbol, and, as far as myth is concerned, that he differs from Scholem on crucial points. "Unlike the view attributed to me by Mr. Anidjar," he argues, "I proposed several times to distinguish between mythical versus non-mythical, even anti-mythical forms of Kabbalah." 38 This is exacdy the problem. Whether or not Scholem has "overemphasized the mythical nature of Kabbalism," as Idel maintains, 39 he certainly did not impose on the Kabbalah a clear-cut distinction between "mythical" and "non-mythical," and it is more than doubtful whether he would have regarded such a distinction as progress. More importantly, Idel conspicuously doesn't refer to the question of "mysticism," which is Anidjar's major point in demonstrating that Idel (and Liebes) are much closer to Scholem than they care to admit. For Idel, as we have seen above, the unio mystica is the very essence of mysticism and essential for what he calls the experiential and ecstatic strand of Kabbalah. Scholem is much more subtle: he certainly doesn't disregard the mystical union in Jewish mysticism but he doesn't want to declare it the essence of mysticism, whether Jewish or nonJewish, and generally cautions against overemphasizing the ecstatic experience. There is clearly a certain ambiguity in Scholem's statements on the mystical union, but this ambiguity is due to the complexity of the Kabbalah, as Scholem sees it, and not to the lack of clarity in his thinking. The only "progress" made by Idel is again that he resolves this ambiguity in favor of his distinction between two clear-cut strands, the theosophical versus the ecstatic strand, his aand b-type; the category remains the same, as does the category of myth (and probably also of symbol). What is needed, however, is a discussion about the categories, which hasn't even started, rather than the questionable " p r o o f ' that they apply only to parts of the Kabbalah. The second question raised by Anijar, but not even addressed by Idel, is that of the historical context of the Kabbalah, and I believe that this is the question which has to be taken up much more seriously in future research. It is important 34 35 36 37 38 39

Speculum βΊ, 1992, 160. Anidjar 1996/97: 99. Scholem 1975: 402; Scholem 1997: 49. Idel 1997: 32. Ibid., 36. Ibid., 34.

but not enough, as Idel does, to follow the winding paths of literary influences and dependencies, to demonstrate that there are indeed many Islamic and Arabic influences on the Kabbalah on the literary level. The historical question which Anidjar raises is that of the context in which the Kabbalistic systems were developed. Whether this context is Christian or Muslim or Christian and Muslim, this depends on the particular circumstances of the particular Kabbalistic system and cannot be reduced to literary influences (by the way, Anidjar does have interesting things to say about the category of "influence," which are unfortunately ignored by Idel). As far as the Zohar is concerned, Anidjar has clearly overshot the mark. His concrete examples for the "Oriental" background are, as Idel righdy demonstrates, as few as they are dubious, and he completely ignores what Yitzhaq Baer has to say in his History of the Jews in Christian Spain about the Christian context (e.g., the social implications and the similarities of the social doctrine of the Zohar to the Franciscan movement). 40 The problem is not so much what kind of background we are talking about but that since Baer there hasn't been much written at all about the historical background and the social milieu out of which the Zohar emerged. The same is true, to conclude with another example, for the Bahir, the first book of the Kabbalah we possess. It appeared at the end of the 12,h century in Southern France, in Provence, in an obviously Christian context—but this context hasn't been explored at all. Scholem took a lot of trouble to prove the Gnostic background in the remote (in terms of space and time) East, indeed the "Orient" (a very good example against Anidjar's "Jewish Orientalism"!), but he never looked at the immediate Christian context of the second half of the 12th century. T o be sure, he did look at the Christian context, but only that of the heretic sects of the Cathari and Albigenses, which received their main ideas again from the gnostic East. This is strange enough, and one might well ask why Scholem ignored the Christian environment of the Provençal Jews, yet one can hardly accuse him of a predilection for the Greek-Western-Christian strand as opposed to the Orient (yes, of course, Anidjar might argue that this "Orient" is Christian and Western and certainly not Islamic, but I am afraid this speaks against his category of "Orient"). In any case, what is at stake is a description as full as possible of the historical circumstances, the background, the environment, in which the Bahir, the Zohar and other important Kabbalistic books and movements originated and grew. Scholem did it so magisterially for the Sabbatian movement in the 17th century and to a much lesser degree for the Lurianic Kabbalah, for the Zohar, for the Ashkenazi Hasidim and for the Bahir—but the companion to his Sabbatai Sem. The Mystical Messiah still remains to be written by his successors. T o have drawn our attention to this important but neglected question of Kabbalah Studies is no minor achievement for our younger colleague.

40

Baer, Y. 1961. A History of the Jews in Christian Spain. Vol. 1, Philadelphia and Jerusalem: The Jewish Publicadon Society, 261 ff.

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ÈhYÈH

ASHÈR

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Ex 3,14 A C C O R D I N G

TO THE

INTERPRETATIONS OF M O S E S M E N D E L S S O H N , FRANZ ROSENZWEIG AND M A R T I N BUBER FRANCESCA ALBERTINI Roma, Italy

Translating Ex 3,14, at first Mendelssohn clashes with a grammatical and linguistical difficulty, which is immanent to that verse. In the first place, the particle ashèr, called locative of origin, introduces a secondary proposition where we generally find the object of the predicate or of the subject of action, or also we find any kind of complement. But in the Bible ashèr often acts as conjunction with an explanatory subordinate sentence. In the second place, and it's the greatest difficulty, èhyèh is the first singular person of verb hâyâh (imperfect here), which is usually translated as "to be." According to Mendelssohn, in the particular case of Ex 3,14 it is possible that we are in front of an archaic and contractive form of verb "to be," which could indicate here an action happening contemporaneously in the past, in the present and in the future. In others words, Mendelssohn observes that, even if the verb "to be" indicates a permanent and definite status of subject, in Ex 3,14 it stresses the dynamism of a subject, dynamism which sets on the same temporal plane both the principal sentence and the secondary one. In the light of these difficulties, it's clear the translation of Ex 3,14 isn't founded on the linguistical and grammatical competencies of the translator at all, but on his particular conception of the Divine Being noticing that an exact translation of Ex 3,14 is in effect impossible. Mendelssohn translates the whole passage with a long periphrasis, rather than appealing to a concise translation as did the previous German experts: Gott sprach zu Mosche: Ich bin das Wesen welches ewig ist. Er sprach nämlieh: So sollst du zu den Kindern Jisraels sprechen: Das ewige Wesen welches sich nennt: Ich bin ewig, hat mich zu euch gesendet.

This long periphrasis can be translated in the following way: God spoke to Moses: I am the Eternal Being. And He said: So you spoke to the children of Israel: The Eternal Being, who names Himself "I am eternal." sent me to you.

Since this moment, in Mendelssohn's translation of Torah we will always find the Tetragrammaton as "Der Ewige." Mendelssohn is the first to introduce this term into the German Judaism of his age to translate the inexpressible Tetragrammaton and later this tradition was able to impose itself on the German Jewish world in spite of numerous experts' resistance.

With regard to his original translation, Mendelssohn clears up his own point of view in the wide Biur dedicated to Ex 3,14, where the philosopher explains the reasons which led him to translate in that particular way èhjèh ashèr èhjèh:1 "I am who I am." According to Midrash (Berakot 9b), the Saint (can He always be blessed) said to Moses: Tell them, I am who I was and now I am the same and I will be the same in the future [and furthermore our rabbis of venerable memory said: I will be with them in this sufferance as well as I am with them in the slavery under others reigns. They wanted to tell that], past and future are in the present of Creator, seeing that there are no changed and no fixed time for Him (Jb 10,17) and no one of His days is never spent. For Him all times are called with the same name and with an only expression which includes past, present and future.

As a consequence, according to Mendelssohn Der Ewige or Ewiges Wesen points out the necessity of God's existence and points out also His never-ending and incessant Providence. Using this name it's as if God said: I am with men's children to be benign and merciful to whom I will be mercifui. N o w say to Israel I was, I am, I will be.... and I will be with them every time they will come crying to me.

In this part of his commentary relative to Ex 3,14, Mendelssohn seems to bring the definition of Divine Being back to the human experience of time, to the unforeseeablety of a future, which can assume innumerable forms. In the light of this particular meaning, the first part of the verse should indicate God's Essence, while the second part should indicate the changeable manifestations of an only substance, which is in reality always identical with itself. This incipit of Mendelssohn's commentary confutes one of Raphaël Hirsch' criticisms, according to which the term Der Ewige would depreciate Divine Providence's intervention in human history. O n the contrary, Providence is one of the fundamental categories of Mendelssohn's philosophical and religious thought and Providence will have an essential rôle in Jerusalem, where the philosopher points out how, without having faith in Providence, in the soul's immortality and in God's eternal truths, human beings can't realise their ultimate goal, which is to be happy. According to a fascinating hypothesis advanced by a few French experts, 2 through Ich bin das Wesen, welches ewig ist we would stress the possibility given to God by Providence to exceed time inside time itself or to transform memory into an instrument of Redemption. In the light of Mendelssohn's understanding of Ex 3,14, Providence gives human beings (the finite being who can't know any dimension other than his own finiteness) an opening onto a dimension beyond time. But the way to reach this dimension is inscribed in the terrestrial nature of the human condition, that is, Providence as eternity is already experienced in the world of men and women, in the community of prayer. The experts, who proposed such a sugges-

Cf. Mendelssohn, M. 1991. Gesammelte Werke. Berlin: Frommann Verlag, vol. 9 / 1 , 133-134. Such as Colette Sirat and René Lapassier.

tive hypothesis, don't explain if Mendelssohn understands the eternity as absence of time or as a dimension beyond time which isn't definable in a negative way with respect to what we know as time. At any rate, surely Redemption is for Mendelssohn a glimpse of the past, which is now read in the light of his deepest meaning and which transforms itself into a "providential present." This providential present nullifies its temporality when it reaches it. In the commentary of Ex 3:14, Mendelssohn doesn't compare himself only with the temporal category at all. According to the philosopher, this verse contains a triple signification: eternity, necessary existence and, obviously, Providence. Justifying his position, in his commentary of Ex 3:14, Mendelssohn finds out that a few of his eminent predecessors (Onqelos for Aramaic language, Saadia and Maimonide for Arabian language) have had to make a draconian choice: the former opted for the exploitation of Providence's idea, the others for the necessary existence and Jonatan Ben Uziel for the link with temporality. Mendelssohn affirms that he opted for the term Der Ewige, both when translating Ex 3:14 and when translating the Tetragrammaton, because all other meanings of identity and of the Divine Name would spring from this substantivized adjective. According to this point of view, the "Necessary Eternal Being" (Das ewig notwendig) and the "foreseeing and provident Being" (das vorsehende Wesen) are the mirror of each other, that is they have got an equivalent value. In fact, in Mendelssohn's thought all these meanings are involved in Ex 3:14. In Mendelssohn's choice we find a part of his conviction (which isn't, for Rosenzweig, as I show better later, maintainable) in the possibility of a rational theology. In evident contradiction with the experience offered by the History of Philosophy, the Foreseeing-Provident Being must spring, for a logical conclusion, from the Necessary Existent Being. In others words, for Mendelssohn, whose thought is still pre-critical (that is anterior to the most important of Kant's works), the essence have supremacy on existence. Even if Mendelssohn's God acts through His Providence in History, He is still a God whose conceptual and abstract identity shines in His concrete theophany. Mendelssohn's God is still a philosophers' God, even if Mendelssohn tries a difficult mediation between his Jewish faith and his Enlightenment thought.

Franz Rosenzweig According Leo Baeck, on the basis of the correspondence of those years between Rosenzweig and Buber, we can affirm, without straying too far from reality, that Rosenzweig influences Buber's translation of Ex 3:14, since it represents a tradition perfectly consonant with Rosenzweig's concept of Redemption developed at the time of Der Stern der Erlösung. Rosenzweig translates Ex 3:14 in the following way:3

3

Cf. Rosenzweig, F.-Buber, M. 1992. Die Bibel. Stuttgart: Bibelgesellschaft Verlag, 189.

Gott aber sprach zu Mosche: Ich werde dasein, als der ich dasein werde. Und sprach: so sollst du zu den Söhnen Jisraels sprechen: "Ich bin da" schickt mich zu euch.

Beginning with Rosenzweig's explanations in his correspondence, we have to try to understand what dasein and werde mean with respect to Mendelssohn's Ewigkeit. In a letter to Hans Ehrenberg dated April 23, 1926,4 Rosenzweig affirms that his translation of that enigmatic verse has been influenced by Benno Jacob's research on Exodus 5 (published in 1922 as Moses am Dornbusch). In light of this research, which is centralised on the problem of divine identity as it shows Itself in Exodus, for his translation of the term èhyèh Rosenzweig doesn't privilege the meaning "necessary existence," but rather the meaning "Providence." Even at a mere linguistical level, èhjèh hasn't got the static meaning of being, but the dynamic meaning of a Being who becomes and acts. This verse indicates the Divine Identity pronounced and shown just by God, and therefore returns to God's effective presence next to Moses. According to Rosenzweig, it is clear, considering their enslavement, that the unhappy Jewish people Moses has to turn to don't expect a conference ex-cathedra about God's necessary existence. They need an explanation which dispels any reasonable doubt, as does their hesitating leader. For this reason, according to Rosenzweig's letter to Buber dated June 23, 1923, the biblical context justifies only a translation for Ex 3:14, a translation which can't concern the "Eternal Being," but, on the contrary, the "Present Being," who is and who becomes with and alongside the Jewish People. In Rosenzweig's conception, biblical monotheism doesn't consist in the simple unique idea of God, but it consists in recognising this God as a Being who isn't separated from concrete existence, from what is more personal and immediate: èhjèh and Ich bin da, pronounced from the burning bush and delivered to mankind through Moses. According to Rosenzweig, the third chapter of Exodus shows Divine selftestimony, which allows him to elucidate the Tetragrammaton's dull surface. God doesn't name Himself as the "Essent Being" (der Seiende), but as the "Existent Being" (der Daseiende), He Who exists not only in Himself, but also "for you," Who exists for you face to face (metaphor which be held dear by Emmanuel Lévinas), He Who approaches you and helps you. According to this particular meaning, Rosenzweig writes in a letter to Ernst Carlesbach dated 2nd August 1924:6 Mendelssohn's G o d doesn't allow me to use the familiar form of address; I can't say to Him: "You."

4 5 6

Cf. Rosenzweig, F. 1990. Der Mensch und sein Werk. Dordrecht: Nijhoff Verlag, 1° vol., 1104. Cf. Benno, J. 1922. Mosesam Dornbusch. Frankfurt am Main: Källiger Verlag. Cf. ibid., 1128.

In his translation/interpretation of Ex 3:14, Rosenzweig is almost obliged to compare himself to Mendelssohn. In the essay Der Ewige, Rosenzweig shows great esteem for Mendelssohn, "who enabled German Jews to understand the meaning of their Deutschtum," even if Mendelssohn's Judaism is exclusively founded on divine Gesetzgebung, that is, only on revealed legislation. It is true that, in accordance with Mendelssohn, Rosenzweig thinks that faith is founded on Revelation's event and thinks that Revelation is reflected by Divine Law. But if Mendelssohn conceives commandments as symbolical acts, Rosenzweig attributes the possibility to make understood the link between faith and reason to the concrete experience of revealed theophany.

Martin Buber Here, we will limit ourselves to that period of Buber's life (1923-1938 ca.), when dissertations on Ex 3:14 appear frequendy in the philosopher's correspondence. His privileged interlocutors are, during this period, (with the exception, obviously, of Franz Rosenzweig) Ernst Simon, Gerhard Scholem, Hugo Bergmann and Hugo von Hoffmanstahl. In the course of his collaboration with Franz Rosenzweig, Buber shows a great esteem for this last one's observations and advice, in fact the two philosophers agree upon the following approach: to send each other translations of a few more complicated verses and to evaluate together the version most consonant with the biblical text. It dates back to March 5, 1923, the first account Rosenzweig sent to Buber about difficulties Rosenzweig encounters comparing himself with Ex 3:14:7 O n the basis of what I have seen till now, I think the translation which best approaches Scripture is "Ich werde dasein als der ich dasein werde."

Buber's answer dates back to March 30, and shows that the considerations on that which will later become his dialogical philosophy played a very important part in the translation of that enigmatic verse: In Ex 3:14, we have to try to keep the doubleness of Divine Promise included into the repetition of term "èhyèh": "I will be present and I will remain prèsent in your way" [...]. Dialogue's importance is given to "ashèr," which joins the two promises and the two interlocutors to each other.

According to Buber, as he writes later in the same letter to Rosenzweig, even if a promise joins in the same way the one who makes it and the one who accepts it, the focal point of Ex 3:14 is represented by God and not by a human. Traditional hermeneutics usually thinks Moses' answer means just that: to know the answer to give Jewish people, when they ask Moses the true God's Name, God Who gave Moses the message. So conceived, according to Buber, the meaning of this verse transforms itself in one of the focal points of his main hypothesis. O n the basis of this last, the Jewish God should be only an evolu-

7

Cf. Buber, M. 1975. Briefwechsel aus sieben Jahrçbcnten. Heidelberg: Lambert Schneider Verlag, 2 vol., 78.

tion of a few gods already present in that area whose principle characteristic is the appropriation of their names by believers. According to Buber's perspective, this hypothesis is invalidated by the fact that, in biblical Jewish (and nowadays also in Modern) to ask for the name the question isn't "What is [‫ ]מה‬your name?," but "Who [‫ ]מי‬are you?." Seeing that Moses' request shows itself just through the question " ‫מי א ת ה‬," it is clear that Moses' query doesn't refer only to God's Name, but also to what this name hides. In a letter to Ernst Simon dated November 15, 1923,8 Buber writes that the deepest meaning of Ex 3,14 is the same we find.in Gn 35:10, when, after God's struggle with Jacob on the bank of river, the Lord gave Jacob the name of Israel ("He who struggles with God"). According to Buber, the substantial difference between these two old-testamentary episodes is the fact that, while in G n 35:10 we have a unilateral imposition, in Ex 3:14 we face a direct dialogue between creature and Creator. Surprisingly, in a certain sense, in Ex 3:14 humans "limit" God, obliging Him to answer. In this letter, as in that one dated 4 th August 19259 to Hugo von Hoffamnstahl, it is evident how Buber tries to connect Ex 3:14 with the Divine Name and how Buber tries to explain It in the light of èhjèh ashèr èhjèh. During this period, Buber thinks that, since Ex 3:14 appears to be an answer to an appeal, God's Name is also at first a vocative: Ya-hu. Beginning from this vocative (here is Rosenzweig's influence), God is called through an unpronounceable name, which is contemporaneously more and less than a name: YHWH. In a letter to Hugo Bergmann dated 14th September 1927,10 Buber observes that, as Tetragrammaton is an answer to an appeal if we interpret It in the light of Ex 3:14, it is clear why our own biblical names rarely refer in their form and root to Tetragrammaton. The only exception is represented by Moses' mother's name, Yochebed ("God is great"). This name almost witnesses a kind of "family tradition," which would prepare the way to Revelation's event of Divine Essence. Really, it is more reliable to maintain that, in a period of religious lassitude, as the slavery age under Egyptian aegis, the intimate Tetragrammaton's essence sinks into oblivion. So Tetragrammaton transforms Himself into an empty phonetical resonance. As Buber writes in a letter to Rosenzweig dated 14th July 1925," in a certain sense, in the collective memory and consciousness of Jewish Peopie, Ex 3:14 arouses the last Tetragrammaton's meaning, showing His deepest essence which even Patriarchies didn't know (Ex 6:3). The usual translation "I am Who I am" [Ich bin der ich bin] gives a Divine Being's description as the "Unique Essent" or "Eternally Essent" that is He Who keeps Himself for ever in His being. [....] However, this kind of abstraction isn't suitable to the rebirth

8 9 10 11

Cf. Cf. Cf. Cf.

Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid.,

89. 147. 195. 161.

of religious vitality as that one which happens inside Jewish People through Moses.

In this letter, Buber stresses how hâyâh doesn't indicate a pure metaphysical essence at all, but a happening, a "coming-to-be," "to-be-present between this one and that one," but it doesn't indicate an abstract and transcendent existence. According to Buber, the answer "I am Who I am" isn't suitable to a Reveladon, but at the worst it can be congenial to an essence which desires to remain mysteriously hidden even to people to whom it introduces itself. From this perspecrive, "I am Who I am" shows itself to be a meaningless tautology or one whose meaning can be understood by the human mind. What should Revelation's meaning be, if God's purpose was to remain hidden? When Jewish people are informed about their imminent liberation, they need to experience divine proximity and not Its great distance from human destiny and events. The Lord is present as He Who has been, who is and who will be present in a both transcendent and earthly immediacy. Buber observes that just after and just before Revelation (Ex 3:12 and Ex 4,12), God reaffirms His presence next to these whom He has chosen. When Moses, timorous about the task given to him, asks God what he will be able to say to the Jews, how he will be able to convince them, God replies I will be with you. Renewing this promise just made to Yztchaq, God nullifies any noticeable difference between Patriarchies' God and the voice speaking to Moses from the burning bush. During this exceptional linguistical challenge, Moses is invited to introduce himself to the Jews as èhyètís envoy. As Buber observes in a letter to Ernst Simon dated April 12, 1932,12 èhjèh isn't a name at all, but is the contractive form of the verb hâyâh, which contains with itself the last meaning of Revelation. God can't be named èhyèh, or rather God shows Himself in this way only in the third chapter of Exodus, when it is necessary for the Jews be conscious of God to permit Him to communicate His will. This consciousness can't be taught by a theological treatise, but it can be experienced in the certainty of the daily dialogue with Patriarchies' God. According to Buber, the link between Ex 3:14 and the Divine Name decrees the birth of a new alliance, where Creator and creature find themselves joined, even if at different levels, in the always open dimension of dialogue. Buber also examines the interpretation of Ex 3:14 carefully in the essay (1945) "Moses," in which the analysis is conducted predominately on a historical basis. Revelation, which in the essay Ich und Du can appear as a mere spiritual essence where the concrete world of reciprocity founds itself, assumes more and more earthly distinguishing features during the evolution of Buber's studies on the Bible. In the essay "Moses," Revelation is faced both as political and as historical category, even if It never looses either Its ultramondanity or Its connective character between Creator and creature. In the work Eclipse of God,n a collection of essays written between 1930 and 1950 (when Buber is already over

12 13

Cf. Ibid., 431. Cf. Buber, M. 1973. Eclipse of God. London: Happingen Publ.

seventy years old), these particular Revelation's aspects are more carefully examined in the light of a new problematic: God's hiding caused by human Ego. It is true that Ex 3:14 grants God's presence next to humans, but humans can escape from this link when they wish. Desiring a comparison with a son and not with a servant, God has granted to human being the possibility not to choose in favour of Creation. God has permitted human being to refuse Revelation and to replace a new God: the Ichheit (we can translate it as Egoity). In this sense, Buber concludes his decennial speculations about God and Revelation, stressing the never ending struggle of human beings to keep the link with God alive. In every moment, this link can be swallowed up by an objectivizing and egoistic Ich, an Ich who doesn't know the dialogical dimension of love.

T H E RELEVANCE OF INTERTEXTUAL INTERPRETATION OF TEXTS FOR THE TEACHING OF JEWISH PHILOSOPHY H E R M A N N C O H E N AND FRANZ ROSENZEIG O N ETHOS

AND

EROS

A M I RA Ε RAN Lewinsky College of Education, Israel

This short study is an attempt to tie the relevance of Jewish traditional texts to later Jewish philosophical methods, by letting the different layers of texts communicate with each other, either through an explicit intention of the writer, or through an artificial standpoint of the viewer. My approach is best demonstrated in the following saying, which serves as an introduction to the central text of my examination: R Hiyya B. Abba in the name of R. Johanan expounded, with reference to the Scriptural text, *Whoso keepeth the fig tree shall not eat the fruit thereof (Prov 27:18). Why were the words of the Torah compared to the fig tree? As with the fig tree the more one searches it, the more figs one finds in it, so it is with the words of the Torah; the more one studies, the more relish he finds in them. ÇErubin 54a-54b; Ed. Epstein, I. London 1938, 379)

Thus, the relevance of any text, according to this passage, is in the eye of the beholder; the more he studies it, the more fruits he finds in it. The focus of my study will be the relation between the fig-leaf: the allegoric language of the Bible and the Midrash, and the fig-fruit: the real love relations between man and woman behind the simile of the love for G o d and for His Torah I shall examine a narrow angle of the concept of love expressed by Hermann Cohen and Franz Rosenzweig through the lens of the Bible (The Song of Songs) and the sages (Ήrubin), hoping to show how echoes of the past carry— consciously and unconsciously—concealed and unconcealed implications for the present. The text of Έrubin continues as follows: R. Samuel B. R. Nahmani expounded, With reference to the Scriptural text, 'Loving hind and a graceful roe' etc. (Prov 5:19); Why were the words of the Torah compared to a hind? To tell you that as the hind has a narrow womb and is loved by its mate at all times as at the first hour of their meeting, so it is with the words of the Torah, they are loved by those who study them at all times, as the hour when they first made their acquaintance. ('Erubin 54)

In the eyes of the sages the ideal woman, and hence the ideal love, is a love in which there is no difference between its sensual-carnal aspect and its intellectual and spiritual aspect. The most elevated and exalted notion of the spiritual pleas-

ure of learning is united with the most primitive and instinctive bodily pleasure of making love. The womb is the location of happiness as well as the intellect, and love which originates in the womb constitutes a spiritual soul-link which repeats itself over and over again in future meetings with the same powerful freshness of the first virginal acquaintance. The notion of time here is thus narrowed to the individual experience, which dominates and overcomes the objective notion of real factual time. The narrow womb of the graceful roe, which is the origin of real life, is correlative to the Torah which is the origin of an idealistic concept of life and its practical implications. Hermann Cohen, who makes the passage "love the rea as thyself' the core of his ethics, is careful enough not to identify moral love with erotic love, and all the more the "other" with the beloved woman. Yet the feminine allusions which radiate from emotional ties almost force Cohen to follow in the footsteps of the sages and to make room for the narrow womb. Nevertheless, Cohen turns passion into compassion and makes the knowledge of suffering, rather than the pleasure of love, the prime motivation for breaking out the self-satisfaction to the act of giving love. The mutual joy of love shred between two equal individuals is replaced by Cohen with feeling of sympathy which is the result of the essential inequality between a "lower" individual who is worthy of compassion and the "higher" individual whose virtues fit the moral pattern. The Hebrew word for compassion, rabamim, is derived from the root rebem, which means womb. The basis for moral relations is thus the acquaintance with one's soul-brother, which is equal in strength and intensity to the relationship with one's blood-brother. Compassion, then, is a spiritual substitute for unconditional motherly love, and it guarantees that the bonds of society will be as unalterable as family ties. Therefore, the first meeting with the "other" must always have the demanding power of the first acquaintance of the lover with the "graceful roe," since this is exactly the manner in which moral duty is differentiated from an episodic emotional reaction. According to Cohen's adaptation of Ben Azai's interpretation of Gen 5:1: "This is the book of the generations of man," all men are brothers. The likeness and sameness of all humans provide evidence for their mutual moral obligations, which draw their validity from the common physical womb. Hence, the essential equality of men, which constitutes the basis for the moral demand, is justified by their brotherly relations traced back to one father and reinforced by the likeness of God implanted in each of them. Referring to the famous verse of Michah, "What doth the Lord require of thee: only to do jusdy and to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God," Cohen now can make a profound distinction between the practice of moral duties and the performance of acts of loving-kindness. Whereas in the case of moral duties no emotions are involved, the act of loving kindness blossoms out of love. Consequently, while moral duty ought to be impersonal in the sense that man should relate to all his fellow-men in the same way, an act of love is an

expression of empathy and affection towards a specific person. Through sympathy with suffering, love acknowledges the differences and discords between the archetypal "fellow-man" and the real flesh and blood individual, whose incompleteness calls for compassion and merciful acts. The expression of compassion is the most authentic manifestation of solidarity with soul-brothers, and it is precisely its role to render blood ties into spiritual ties and to render passion into compassion. Thus merciful love combines compassion and passion into one. Ahavat hesed focuses its attention on giving—hesed—over and above the strict moral imperative. This type of love crosses the borders of morals and penetrates the realm of intimate relations. The rea can now be seen as the beloved one, the "other," and in this sense he corresponds to the beloved woman, whose hesed is sought out of passion alone. The merging of feelings and duty is possible by uniting the universai mental qualities of man with his personal physical weaknesses, seeing them all originating in the common womb of humanity. As we strive to explore the effect of traditional expressions of human love on the concept of divine love, we ought to take into account that Franz Rosenzweig treats the Biblical texts as if they were an exact documentation of the desired love relations. He opposes the inclination to treat the Song of Songs as a simile, a worldly allegory of supersensual relations of superhuman love. "But love is not 'but simile' "—he protests—"it is simile in its entirety and its essence... for love could not be eternal as love if it did not appear to be transitory..." In real love there should be no objective distinction between vital, sensual, earthly passion and rigid, frozen spiritual satiety. Just as R. Hiyya believes that the essence of love combines the pleasure of the moment—the very first and ever-first moment of the act of love—and the non-temporal pleasure of the knowledge of love, so too, Rosenzweig sees the main characteristic of love as expressed in the Song of Songs in its perpetual movement. The dynamic nature of the presence of love makes it impossible to nail it to any objective definition, for it is not connected with any external goal it is bound to achieve. The experience of the self is the only testimony for its occurrence, and thus the declaration of "love now," which means to love and be loved, is the gist of the information that can be drawn from the Song of Songs. Despite its intense vitality, love is sterile because it is divorced from its productive feminine potential to create life. This inherent talent is detached from the momentary human presence of love and devoted solely to the divine. It is amazing that while Rosenzweig is not willing to make any distinction between the human and the divine realm when he describes existential occurrences, he does make this clear-cut distinction when he discusses the fertility of love. We have recognized the Song of Songs as a focal book of revelation; in it these words [love strong as death] constitute the sole objective moment , the sole rationalization, the sole passage which is only stated not spoken. In these words creation visibly extends upward into revelation and is visibly topped up by revelation. (Star; 202)

If the direct experience is completely subjective, the indirect speech about the nature of love provides the objective criteria which isolate the event and reveal the role of God. According to the objective point of view, revelation is the content of the love of God, and creation is the attribute of God by which his love is seen and felt. Yet, even the objective look is too narrow to encompass direcdy the creative, ever-changing activity of God; it can only talk about its negation: death. Death as the counterpart of life is the counterpart of the originating power of God and the counterpart of Eros. The negation of death as the end of life is correlative to the positiveness of Eros as a spring of life. Death is the Ultimate and Consummate of creation and love is strong as death. This is the only thing that can be stated, pre-dictated, re-counted about

love. (Ibid.) Death is the content of an objective empty generalization about what stands in contrast to the unspeakable completeness of the divine chain of occurrences that is named by its emotional drive: love. For love is speech wholly active wholly personal, wholly living, wholly speak-

ing. (Ibid.) It is precisely this notion of wholeness that can not be grasped by the mind, which is parallel in its strength to the absolutism and totality of death, and which was ascribed by R. Hiyya to the Torah. The comparison of the Torah— an all-encompassing wholeness—with a narrow womb, is a reversed parallelism of the identification of Eros and creation suggested by Rosenzweig. But while R. Hiyya is interested in confining the intellectual, general pleasure of studying the Torah to one and first meeting of love, Rosenzweig is interested in the generalization of the personal, intimate, concrete and unique touch of love to an objective conceptualization. It should be added here that in his attempt to generalize the impact of Eros on the self, Rosenzweig follows in the footsteps of Cohen. As was stated before, Cohen expands the notion of the love of "thy rea " to the human brotherliness, and as a result ethical activity is centered in generality whose realization is humanity. Rosenzweig elaborates this inclination and sees in the rea or the neighbor only a representative of the moral love. The "neighbor" might be a person or a thing, which present the nearest target for the realization of the formal commandment to love. One's fellow man merits love simply by virtue of his presence and proximity. Thus the neighbor is only a representative. He is not beloved for his own sake, nor for his beautiful eyes, but only because he just happens to be standing there, because he happens to be nighest to me. (Ibid., 218)

In a surprising turn, Rosenzweig prefers to see as the "nearest" rea not the nearest blood related person, who naturally has permanent close relations with the self, but an "episodic" fellow—man who happens to be loved in the circumstances of the moment.

Moreover, Rosenzeig sees in real flesh and blood des a type of brotherly reladon which stands in opposition to love relations: But here the soul aspires beyond this love to the realm of brotherliness, the bond of supernatural community, wholly personal in its experience yet wholly worldly in its existence... If this longing is to be fulfilled, then the beloved soul must cross the magic circle of belovedness... (Ibid., 204)

I do not think that Rosenzweig here is adopting Cohen's attitude, according to which only spiritual brotherhood is worthy of moral love. It seems to me that the reason for Rosenzweig's approach is his insistence not to limit love by external borders, and to free it from all obligations and justifications besides its pure existence. Love does not need an excuse, nor does it need an external goal. It has an independent inner engine and it moves towards a lover from the moment of its beginning. Thus, the autonomy of the moral act is defined through its intention and not by its expected consequences. Similarly, the passion of love is kept as long as the lover has trust in the strength of love alone, and he does not seek certainty and infinite affirmation in a permanent connection, as is characteristic of blood ties. If it were otherwise, if the act were a product of a given volitional orientation... if in short it were to emerge as infinite affirmation, then it would be not act of love, but purposive act. (Ibid., 215)

The reason for rejecting the identification of sensual love with moral love is to be found in the philosophical concepts of both Cohen and Rosenzweig, in their refusal to see in passionate love (Rosenzweig), or in the act of loving-kindness (Cohen), a schematic and organized act, which is chained to its purpose, however desirable and admirable it may seem to be. It is quite clear that one can not summon up sympathy at will, nor can one order oneself to produce love for someone. Although the motives of Rosenzweig and Cohen for this rejection are not the same (Cohen aspires to emphasize the motivation of the good will, while Rosenzweig wishes to stress the drive of the free will), they both see in the love for one's fellow-man a manifestation of the love of God, and they both see moral love as a confine reflection of the divine love. The absence of erotic affection from the moral love might be understood as a natural result of the generalized character that the moral act should assume. Since the center of ethical conduct is humanity—or its representative, one's fellow man—the moral act can not be personal. Yet, another possible explanadon, which can be found in the prototype of relations between sensual love and mental love portrayed by R. Hiyya, is the importance of the virginity of experience for real love. From this point of view, spiritual love lags behind sensual love, because it can only imitate the pleasure of the first lovers' acquaintance, or revive it through recollection. There is no need to repeat the importance of the first and only moment for Rosenzweig's concept of love. His whole train of thoughts revolves around the peculiar talent of love to carry in itself its everlasting renewed beginning. All future events are merely a reproduction of the

first moment of love, giving birth to itself from an inner womb that continuously fertilizes itself. According to R. Hiyya, the special virtue of the beloved—be it a real woman or the Torah—is her talent for giving to every meeting with her, the joy and the pleasure of the first virginal experience. The taste of the beginning does not fade as the experience repeats itself; its freshness and uniqueness transform time and space into abstract measures of spiritual nearness, intellectual knowledge and moral generalization.

Conclusions In this study I have examined Jewish traditional texts, which can stand alone in a broader context, as sources of inspiration and information for later modern Jewish philosophical compositions. My presumption was that the effect of the earlier texts on the later may be explored, even if it is not admitted explicitly by their writers. The passage from Έηώίη ascribed to R. Hiyya and, of course, the texts from the Song of Songs were used as a prototype of love relations in their twofold implication: the sensual-personal and the spiritual-universal. I have strived to show how these two different aspects of love assume new meaning in the eyes of later generations of readers, in order to adopt them to the prevailing moral concept of love. The common features of all the approaches discussed, were these: a) Sensual love, which is concerned with the immediate pleasures of the body, is a blessing and should be seen as one of the virtues of the beloved woman. b) Eros is identified mosdy with that sensual, spontaneous and passionate love. c) Eros is connected with the overwhelming, personal, intimate, firstsight love encounter. d) The generalization of the erotic drive and the feminine implications associated with the (narrow) womb constitutes the basis for moral activity centered in the love for one's fellow-man, and for moral conduct derived from feelings of brotherliness. The differences between the approaches to love in the systems examined, can be summed up to the following: a) While Rosenzweig is following in the footsteps of R. Hiyya and gives priority to sensual love, whose strongest expression is the first moment of acquaintance with the beloved, Cohen keeps the desired act of love out of the reach of the momentary experience. Since Cohen is presenting an idealistic philosophy, he gives priority to the conceptualization of emotional love and hence prefers to render passion into compassion. b) The vitality of love is best described according to Rosenzweig, by its comparison to death. For Rosenzweig, the fear of death is not less alive than the surrender to the conquering power of love. Thus, while R. Hiyya emphasizes the overwhelming impression of the first hour of the lovers' acquaintance, Ro-

senzweig stresses—with no less importance—the encounter with the last moment of life. c) In the eyes of R. Hiyya, the virtue of the narrow womb lies in its being both source of life and source of love. The intellectual pleasure of the study of Torah is a spiritual transformation of the pleasurable fertility of the womb, which reproduces and reconstructs the excitement of the first moment of love over and over again. For Rosenzweig, on the other hand, the special faculty of the womb, giving life, is confined only to the virginal first hour, and is compared in strength to the last moment and the ending of life (to death). Thus, the fertility of the womb is made barren by the terror of death. d) While Cohen aspires to distinguish the act of loving-kindness from a routine moral act by considering the latter a manifestation of compassion, Rosenzweig prefers to detach morality from emotional love and to see in any "nearest" fellow-man or thing a worthy object of the ethical activity. e) According to Cohen, compassion (rahamim), whose source is the common womb (rehem) of all humans, is the most authentic manifestation of humanity, since it gives expression to the brotherly relations among all men. For Rosenzweig, on the other hand, brotherliness—genetic and spiritual—is but a reduction of the of the total and absolute value of spontaneous love.

Primary Sources: Rosenzweig, F. 1971. The Star of Redemption. Trans. W. W. Hallo. NW-York. (Re. 1985. N o t r e Dame: IN); quoted as: Star.

Secondary Sources: Melber, J. 1968. Hermann Cohen's Philosophy of Judaism. N e w York. Rotenstreich, N. 1968. From Mendelssohn to Rosen^weig—Jewish Philosophy in Modern Times. N e w York. 52-105; 149-218.

KAWWANAHET

FINALITÉ DE LA PRIÈRE

DANS LE SHOMER

EMÛNÎM DE

J O S E P H BEN E M M A N U E L ERGAZ (1685^730) ROLAND GOETSCHEL Sorbonne Nouvelle-Paris IV, France

Joseph Ergaz consacre plusieurs paragraphes vers la fin de la seconde partie de son livre Shomer Emûnîm au problème de savoir où doit aller l'intention de la prière (§ 62-75) et quelle est la finalité dont elle est revêtue (§ 76-78). Le problème de la kawwanah se posait déjà pour les kabbalistes de Provence mais revêt une nouvelle signification dans le contexte de la kabbale post-lourianique et du sabbatianisme. 1 Ergaz part de l'impossibilité en raison de la perfection de prédiquer de lui un quelconque attribut, pas même par voie de négation, comme l'aurait admis Maïmonide pour en déduire qu'on ne saurait adresser de prière à l'Eyn-Sof. Désigner la divinité par un attribut signifierait toujours introduire en elle une limitation. Ainsi si on le désignait comme "sage" cela signifierait qu'il est "sage" mais déficient en ce qui concerne d'autres attributs, et que celui-ci n'engloberait pas en lui toutes les autres perfections, alors que cela est le cas.2 Il n'y a pas en Lui de modalité qui soit particulière, telle que l'attribut "sage" qui renverrait à la sagesse seulement. Il en découle que si on le qualifie de "sage" même en spécifiant que cette sagesse n'a rien de c o m m u n avec notre sagesse, on gagne ce disant à ce que l'Eyn-Sof et "Sagesse" ne sont pas deux comme c'est le cas chez nous, mais on le limite cependant par l'attribut de "sagesse" et on dénie de lui les autres perfections, ce qui est faux. E n effet l'Eyn-Sof est une substance simple, une réalité une qui englobe toutes les perfections en son unité. Aucune trace de perfection particulière telle que "sage" ne s'inscrit en lui, et il en va ainsi des autres attributs. C'est même le cas pour l'attribut "un," lui aussi indique une limite, savoir qu'il serait limité par son unité. C'est pourquoi si on s'oblige à le désigner comme "un," même si on affirme qu'il n'existe pas d'unité comme la sienne, cela demeure interdit, car on introduit en lui une limitation. 3 Celui qui pense en disant " u n " énoncer son unité, parvient au résultat contraire. Il ne sied en effet pas de qualifier l'Eyn-Sof de l'attribut

Cf. Scholem, G. 1962. Les Origines de la Kabbale. Paris, 258-263. Pour le problème des kawwanot dans le contexte du sabbatianisme cf. notre article "Le problème de la kawwanah dans le Yosher Lebab d'Emmanuel Hai Ricchi." In Prière, Mystique et Judaïsme. PUF 1987, 207-222. Ra'aya Mehemmna, 257 a. Cf. Bahya ibn Paquda, Hobot ba-Lebabot. Premier Portique. Ch. VIII et IX, et Maïmonide, Guide I, Ch. 57.

"un" car il précède ce qui est "un". Et comme l'enseigne le Sefer Yetsirah: "Avant l'un que dénombres-tu?" 4 A propos de quoi le (pseudo) Rabad s'est exprimé ainsi: Étant donné qu'il n'est même pas possible d'attribuer le n o m b r e un, même à Keter Etyon, si ce n'est en raison de sa pleine indifférenciation et non pour sa mesure et son nombre qui est en sa généralité dans Hokhmah. S'il en est ainsi, quelle chose et quelle expression seront aptes à être énoncée concernant la cause des causes? 5

11 en résulte qu'aucun terme ne peut être prédiqué de l'Eyn-Sof afin que le langage ne vienne pas limiter ce qui est illimité. Il nous est par conséquent interdit de le qualifier par un quelconque nom, attribut, lettre ou voyelle.6 Il découle de là qu'aucune prière ne peut s'adresser d'aucune manière à l'Eyn-Sof en sa simplicité. Mais il s'agit alors d'élucider comment il est possible de dire que les sefirot sont les noms et les attributs mentionnés dans la Torah et dans le rituel des prières? Ne faudrait-il pas en conclure que nous adressons nos prières non à l'Eyn-Sof mais aux sefirot, ce qui serait une transgression achevée? Ainsi que l'ont enseigné nos maîtres, de mémoire bénie dans le Sifré à propos du verset (Deut 4,7): Comme ΥΗΨΉ notre Dieu en toutes les invocations que nous dirigeons vers Lui, "vers lui" et non pas vers "ses attributs." 7 La réponse à cette difficulté est que nous n'adressons pas nos prières aux sefirot mais seulement à la force qui agit en elles, qui est l'Eyn-Sof revêtu des sefirot. Celui qui adresse une prière à une quelconque sefirah se rend coupable de polythéisme comme l'ont enseigné R. David ben Zimrah dans la préface de son Magen David, R. Moïse Cordovero dans son 'Elimah Rabbati ainsi que tous les autres kabbalistes. 8 Il est aussi le premier inte‫ש‬gible, du moment que nous croyons qu'il illumine l'univers entier par sa gloire et qu'il gouverne par sa providence particulière. S'il en est ainsi, c'est à Lui et non en dehors de Lui que nous adressons nos requêtes concernant la subsistance, la santé, l'allégement et l'expiation du châtiment, ainsi que la satisfaction de nos autres besoins. En effet tout vient de Lui car il n'existe nulle puissance en dehors de Lui pour dispenser le bien. Si nous devons adresser toutes nos prières à l'Eyn-Sof, qui donne, comment est-il possible du fait du revêtement de l'Eyn-Sof dans les sefirot que nous puissions lui-adresser nos prières et de le mettre en relation avec les noms et les attributs évoqués dans nos prières? Pour répondre à cette interrogation, Ergaz rappelle son opposition à la théorie des attributs de Maïmonide. S'il en allait, comme le prétend l'auteur du Guide, que des actions opposées n'impliquent pas de changements dans la

4 5 6 7

8

Sefer Yetsirah, I, 7. Pseudo-Rabad (R. Joseph Ashkenazi) sur Sefer Yetsirah. Jérusalem 1962, 28 b. S homer Emûnim, § 63 (Par la suite, le livre sera désigné par le sigle SE.). Sifré sur Deut 4,7. Ergaz s'inspire manifestement de Möise Cordovero, Pardes Rimmonim. Jérusalem 1966 /67 Porrique XXXII, chapitre 2, 75 b-c. David ben Zimra, Magen David, (repr. s. d.) Munkatz 1911/12 préface, ch. II. Moïse Cordovero, 'Elimah Rabbati 'Eyn kôl, Tamar. Jérusalem 1966, II, ch. 2, 10 b - c et 18, 16a-6 c.

substance de l'agent, 9 nous pourrions prédiquer de l'Eyn-Sof tous les noms et tous les attributs, en les considérant comme des attributs d'action, et non comme des attributs essentiels. Mais puisque cela n'est pas, conformément à la tradition ésotérique et à tant de démonstrations fournies par les théologiens qui ont établi de manière apodictique que l'activité de l'Eyn-Sof est une activité d'une simplicité entière, il en découle que même du point de vue de ses actions, nous ne sommes pas autorisés à prédiquer de lui des attributs multiples car la particularisation et la multiplicité des attributs d'action induirait la multiplicité en ce qui Le concerne. Et même si chacun des attributs d'action exprime une perfection particulière et limitée, il est impossible de la prédiquer de l'Eyn-Sof car elle enseignerait limite et déficience relativement aux autres perfections. La réalité de Son activité n'est pas de cette espèce, elle englobe en effet toutes les actions et toutes les perfections dans une unité plénière. C'est pourquoi, même du point de vue de ses actions, nous ne prédiquons de Lui aucun attribut, car nous n'avons pas de mot pour rendre toutes les actions et toutes les perfections dans l'unité absolue et l'indifférenciadon plénière par lesquelles s'accomplit Son action. Cependant, on s'aperçoit que les kabbalistes ont su répondre à une question épineuse: Comment rapporter à l'Eyn-Sof tous les noms et attributs du point de vue des actions qu'il exerce par le moyen des réalités émanées et des sefirot... Cela est possible, avance Ergaz, qui s'inspire d'Abraham Herrera, en distinguant, deux espèces dans l'activité de l'Eyn-Sof: 10 La première, lorsqu'il a fait émaner, sans aucun instrument (kelì) Keter de 'Adam Qadmon lequel a émané de Eyn-Sof sans aucun intermédiaire. A ce niveau, on ne peut prédiquer de Lui aucun des noms écrits dans la Torah fût-ce en tant qu'attributs d'action. Aucun nom ne suffit en effet pour qualifier son action simple qui est totale et absolue. La seconde espèce de Ses activités est celle qu'il exerce à travers des instruments. En effet, c'est en recourant à cet instrument considéré qu'est Keter de 'Adam Kadmon qu'il a fait émaner les dix sefirot de 'Adam Qadmon et avec elles les dix sefirot du monde de l'émanation. 11 De même II a créé, formé et fabriqué l'ensemble des trois mondes de la création, de la formation et de la fabrication par l'intermédiaire des réalités émanées. Dans cette perspective, on peut lui attribuer noms et attributs considérés comme des attributs d'action. Ergaz appuie son argumentation sur un passage du Ra'aja Mehemna (Is 40,25): Je suis l'image de qui, et à qui va-t-on me faire ressembler? Avant que le Saint-béni soit-Il n'eut créé une image dans le monde et dessiné une forme, Il était unique sans forme, ni image; et qui le connaissait avant la création? Il était sans image. 9 10

11

Maïmonide, Guide I, ch. 53. SE § 87. Sur la théologie kabbalisdque d'Abraham Herrera, on consultera le beau livre de Yosha, N. 1994. Mythe et Métaphore, l'interprétation philosophique de la Kabbale de Ar"ipar R. Abraham Cohen Herrera (Hébr.). Jérusalem. Adam Qadmon est dans la kabbale d'Isaac Louria le nom de la première réalité qui résulte du tsimtsûm. Elle est elle-meme divisée en dix sefirot, dont la première est désigné comme Keter de 'Adam Qadmon.

Il est interdit de lui attribuer une forme ou une image de ce monde, ni de le représenter par la lettre H é ou la lettre Yod, ni m ê m e par le saint nom, ni par aucune lettre ou voyelle; c'est ce qui est dit (Deut 4,15): Vous n'avez aPerÇu aucune forme, c'est dire vous n'avez aperçu aucune réalité qui a forme et ressemblance. Mais après qu'il a fait cette image du char de l ' H o m m e d'enhaut, Il est descendu là et est d é n o m m é par cette forme du tétragramme afin qu'il soit connu par Ses modalités, par chaque modalité. O n le n o m m e 'El, 'Elohim, Shadday, Tseba'ot, 'Eheyeh afin qu'on connaisse comment il régit le m o n d e par chaque modalité: par grâce ou par rigueur selon la manière dont le servent les humains... 12

Le Ra'aja Mehemna vient donc enseigner qu'après avoir fait émaner les sefirot, l'Eyn-Sof se trouve désigné par leurs noms qui se référent à ses attributs et aux manières dont il régit le monde. Ergaz se réfère aussi à ce propos aux écrits de l'école d'I. Louria, ainsi se réfère-t-il au début du Otsrôt Hajyim : Lorsque s'éleva à Sa volonté le dessein de faire émaner les êtres émanés pour la raison connue, afin d'être proclamé miséricordieux, gracieux, longanime etc... car s'il n'existait pas dans le m o n d e quelqu'un qui soit apte à accueillir la miséricorde, comment serait-il désigné c o m m e miséricordieux? 13

O n est obligé de dire ainsi que l'Eyn-Sof est désigné en tous ces noms car voici que tous les noms saints présents dans la Torah qui sont l'essence des sefirot ne le sont que par l'adjonction de la puissance de l'Eyn-Sof qui les unifie. Ergaz évoque à ce propos le témoignage du Zohar Hadash: Et Lui II unifie le Yod au Hé, le lVaw au Hé et on ne l'appelle Y H W H que par Lui, et ainsi pour 'Adonay de même que pour , Eheyeh et 'Elohim. Et dès qu'il se retire de là, il n'y a plus de n o m par lequel II puisse être connu. 1 4

Il en résulte donc que les sefirot sans l'Eyn-Sof ne peuvent plus être désignées par YHWH ou par les autres noms. S'il en va ainsi, lorsque nous évoquons le tétragramme et le restant des noms, nous y incluons également la puissance de l'Eyn-Sof qui les unifie et qui est la raison pour laquelle les sefirot sont désignés par ces noms que nous évoquons. Il en résulte que l'Eyn-Sof dans la modalité où il est uni et où il maintient les sefirot qui correspondent à ses activités se trouve désigné par le nom YHWH et par les autres noms et surnoms, mais il ne s'attache à Lui aucun nom dans la modalité de son essence absolue, c'est cela que vient signifier le Zohar Hodash en déclarant "dés qu'il se retire de là, il n'y a plus de nom par lequel II puisse être connu." 15 Pour faire admettre l'idée qu'il est possible à la fois de le désigner par des noms en raison de ses actions alors que l'on ne peut rien prédiquer de Lui, considéré en soi, Ergaz recourt à une parabole. Supposons que le parchemin

12 13

14 15

Ra'aya Mehemna, Ζ II, 42 b. 'Otsmt Hayyim. Ed. Ά . Shalom. Jérusalem 1995, 5. Ergaz se réfère également au 'Adam Yashar. Jérusalem, 1994, 1. Les deux écrits ont été publiés par R. Jacob Tsemah; Ergaz mendonne encore le début du Mabô'She'arim. Tel-Aviv, 1961 P. 2 a. Zohar Hadash sur Yitro 34 c. Ergaz renvoie également à. Ra'aya Mehemna III, 257 b. "Tous les noms ne sont que des surnoms en raison de ses actions."

immaculé produise le tétragramme et les autres noms. Le parchemin blanc enveloppe toutes les lettres des noms à l'extérieur comme à l'intérieur et les porte toutes, car elles n'ont ni existence, ni pérennité si ce n'est par le moyen du parchemin. Il en découle qu'en dépit de ce que le parchemin dans son essence est entièrement blancheur et qu'il n'y a pas en ce qui le concerne un quelconque tracé de lettres ou de voyelles, il existe cependant pour le parchemin sous les lettres du tétragramme une sorte de tracé des lettres et de la forme du tétragramme. En effet sous le Yod de l'encre, il y a le Yod blanc du parchemin qui supporte le Yod de l'encre, de même sous le Hé et ainsi pour toutes les autres lettres; en sorte que le nom tétragrammatique résultant de l'encre amène à limiter la blancheur du parchemin selon l'image de la forme du tétragramme. Il en va de même pour les autres noms tracés sur le parchemin. Mais ceci n'a précisément lieu qu'au moment où les lettres d'encre se trouvent sur le parchemin; mais si les lettres s'envolent et le quittent, le parchemin redevient blanc comme lorsqu'il était sans aucune lettre ou chose semblable. Le sens de la parabole est limpide, nous assure Ergaz. Car l'Eyn-Sof et son instrument considéré Keter de 'Adam Qadmon est semblable au parchemin qui n'a ni nom, ni lettre, ni voyelle. Car Keter de 'Adam Qadmon est, comme dit son effet, simple. Et parce que l'Eyn-Sof fait émaner tous les noms et toutes les sefirot par l'intermédiaire de Keter de 'Adam Qadmon et que tous se maintiennent et subsistent par Lui, comme les lettres sur le parchemin, il est possible d'attribuer à l'Eyn-Sof tous les noms et titres écrits dans la Torah pour le désigner par elles et ceci cependant au niveau de la pensée et de l'intention du cœur exclusivement et non par la voix et la parole, par l'expression de nos lèvres. En effet, comme on l'a dit, aucun mot ni aucune parole n'est susceptible d'être énoncée au sujet de l'Eyn-Sof. L'essentiel de l'enseignement ésotérique concernant ce sujet a été fourni dans le Tiqqûnej Zohar où l'on s'exprime ainsi: Car dans chaque mention qui sort de sa bouche, en tout lieu, en toute parole, il est nécessaire d'orienter son intention au niveau de la parole vers le nom 'Adonay, au niveau de la voix en direction de YHWH et d'unifier ces noms en une unité complète, dans l'unité de l'Unique et l'Occulte qui les relie l'un à l'autre et les unifie en un. L'intentionnalité doit nécessairement aller vers Lui, car ni la parole, ni la voix ne s'appliquent à Lui mais seulement la pensée. 16

Ergaz considère que ce texte est sans équivoque et qu'en toutes nos louanges et prières, nous devons évoquer les noms divins qui se réfèrent aux sefirot sur le plan de la parole et de la voix mais que notre intentionnalité de notre pensée et notre cœur döit se porter vers l'Eyn-Sof qui est, selon les termes des Tiqqûnim "l'Unique et l'Occulte qui les relie l'un à l'autre et les unifie en un" car c'est ainsi que les sefirot sont désignées par Y H W H de même que par les autres noms. Ainsi lorsque nous disons "Ha- 'El ha-Gadôt' (Le Dieu grand) le mot lui-même tel qu'il se trouve exprimé au niveau du langage est en Gedullah (grandeur) mais

16

Tiqqûney Zohar; 3 a. Le motif comme la citation figure chez Cordovero ( supra n. 7).

l'intention va à l'Eyn-Sof qui s'épanche en Gedullah}1 II en va de même pour tous les autres surnoms, modalités et effectuations. Il n'est rien dans la prière qui fasse allusion à l'Eyn-Sof sinon l'intention. C'est pourquoi l'homme doit diriger son intention vers Lui qui est le tout, c'est par sa puissance que toutes les sefirot agissent et qu'elles se trouvent désignées par tous les noms et attributs. 18 Il semble pourtant possible de soulever une objection à l'affirmation selon laquelle il n'y a que l'intention, la kawwanah, qui aille à l'Eyn-Sof. Un passage du Ra'aya Mehemna semble énoncer le contraire, savoir que lorsqu'on demande à l'Eyn-Sof en sa modalité simple aucun des attributs ne se trouve pris en compte mais après qu'il ait fait émaner les sefirot, il faut Lui rapporter les attributs: "Mais après qu'il ait fait cette forme du char de l'Homme d'en-haut, Il est descendu là et II est désigné par la forme du tétragramme" 19 ce qui viendrait nous faire entendre qu'il est désigné aussi au niveau du dire et de la parole et pas seulement au niveau de l'intention. La réponse à l'objection est la suivante. Si le Ra'aya Mehemna avait dit "Il est descendu là et il y a en lui Y H W H " ou "Il est désigné par Y H W H " l'objection serait valable: Savoir que des attributs Lui sont advenus par le truchement des sefirot, c'est à dire que lorsqu'il est descendu là, il y a en Lui Y H W H ou II est appelé YHWH. Mais le Ra'aya Mehemna dit très précisément: "Il est descendu là et II est désigné par la forme du tétragramme" c'est à dire avec la forme du tétragramme, car le tout unifié est désigné comme YHWH. Ceci s'accorde avec le passage évoqué précédemment du Zohar Hadash: le tétragramme comme les autres saints noms sont la substance des sefirot par l'adjonction de la puissance du Eyn-Sof qui les unifie et les maintient. Elles ne sont appelées Y H W H qu'en Lui. C'est pourquoi le texte porte: "Il est descendu là," Il unit et maintient les sefirot et c'est en raison de ceci qu'il est appelé par la forme de YHWH. Il en découle que cette désignation s'effectue au niveau de la voix, de la parole et de la pensée. La voix et la parole concernent les sefirot, qui sont Y H W H et 'Adonay, la pensée porte sur l'Eyn-Sof car il ne sied pas de la voix et la parole mais seulement de la pensée. Ergaz explique que la raison de ce que l'on ne peut attribuer à l'Eyn-Sof les noms en raison des actions par le truchement des émanés qu'au niveau de la pensée et de l'intention seulement et non à celui du dire de la parole est qu'il correspondent aux sefirot auxquelles la puissance de l'Eyn-Sof est immanente. Il en découlera que toutes les prières s'adresseront a l'Eyn-Sof par le truchement des sefirot : La pensée vise l'Eyn-Sof cependant que la parole et le dire se situent au niveau des noms. La prière ne provoque pas de changement en l'Eyn-Sof, ni même au niveau de YArikh 'Anpin, le changement n'est opéré qu'en Zeir Anpin et Nuqbah, les configurations régissant notre monde. La finalité de la prière est donc d'agir sur le plérome divin, Abodah tsorekh Gabo'ah et Ergaz justifie ce principe en distinguant entre deux modes d'épanchement du divin. 17

18 19

L'expression Ha-'Etha-Gadôtest présente dans la première des dix-huit bénédictions et se trouve empruntée à Deut 10, 17. Gedûttah est la quatrième des dix sefirot. SE, 83 b. Ergaz se réfère lui-même ici à Cordovero (supra n°7). Ra'aya Mehemna sur Bâ' 42 b .

AVRAHAM PORTALEONE F R O M SCIENCE TO MYSTICISM ALESSANDRO G U E T T A INALCO, Paris, France

In this paper I will try to bring out some of the significant aspects of the work of Avraham Portaleone (1542-1612), a Jewish doctor from Mantua, known mainly as the author of the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, a most unusual encyclopaedia published in Mantua in 1612. After some brief biographical data and the description of the book, I will mention the main critical study of it, then offer my personal interpretations, (which confirm the conclusions of that study) and apply them to areas that have been neglected until now. Avraham Portaleone (in Hebrew: ‫ )שער אריה‬was born in Mantua in 1542. Descended from a family of illustrious doctors, he studied in Bologna with Ya'aqov Fano, then in Mantua with Avraham Provenzali who—in his own words—"was in possession of all parts of the oral Torah." 1 This means that he had been able to study the Talmud, or at least its judicial syntheses. Let us remember that at this time all copies of the Talmud were supposed to have been burned, according to the Papal bull issued by Julius III in 1553. Provenzali also taught the young Portaleone Latin. H e then studied in Pavia, where he became a doctor of medicine in 1563. We find him as doctor to the Dukes of Mantua, the Gonzaga family, for w h o m he composed the Consilia medica2 and the De auro dialog,! très, published in Venice in 1584. Meanwhile, he was active in the city's Jewish community, donating his work as "doctor to the poor," as shown in a document published by Shlomo Simonsohn. 3 At the age of 65, Avraham Portaleone was struck down by a serious illness: an attack of apoplexy that paralyzed the whole left side of his body. It was this that led him—as he writes himself—to compose his major work in Hebrew, the Shiltey ha-Gibborym (The Shields of the Brave), intended as an act of pardon for the sins of his youth. Let us follow the description of these circumstances, as the author relates them at the beginning of his book. I would point out that this is one of the rare examples we possess of a fragment of Jewish autobiography of that time: When G o d wanted to chasten me I fell ill. Two years ago the whole left side of my body became as if dead and I could no longer touch my hand to my breast

1 2 3

Shiltey ha-Gibbotym. Mantua 1612, 185b. Ibid. Simonsohn, Sh. 1964. Histoty of the jews in the Duchy of Mantua, Jerusalem, 294.

nor walk in the street, even leaning on a cane, because of the loss of feeling and the ability to move my limbs. I searched my behavior and saw (after H i m w h o sees all) that in addition to my sins, which were more numerous than the hairs on my head, the clamor of my neglecting the Torah rose before the face of G o d . For I had dealings with the children of Greek wisdom, I sought to reach the heights through philosophy and medicine, which lured m e with their honeyed words to seek salvation in the ways of darkness, and thus prevented me f r o m devoting myself to the heritage of the community of Jacob, as I should have done. That is why G o d was angered against me, dire maladies have darkened my days and defeated me; my nerves are ruined, my sighs d o not cease, so that with the bitterness of my soul, sleep has left me and I cannot recover my strength. Happiness has fled and pain increased. So I raised my eyes upward and made repentance (teshuvah) in my heart. I told myself that sin might be forgiven if, after repairing what he had damaged, the father were to teach his children that they would be victorious with G o d if they would put His Law in their hearts, meditate on it day and night and observe prudence and good counsel; by so doing they would be blessed [...].4

So just what is the work in question? It consists of a series of ma'amadoth, that is, excerpts from the Bible, Mishna, Talmud', Midrash and Zohar, to be read during the week in correspondence with the prayers. The author dedicates the work to his children and explains his reasons for writing it. Study—he writes—has an effect upon God, for if the children of Israel observe the Torah through study, God rewards them, according to a reciprocal system in which each party has need of the other. And since it is clear that not everyone can devote his days to study, a careful reading of the selected passages will suffice. This premise contains a number of interesting themes: the reciprocity between God and men (which leads to the notion of theurgy, the idea of human action on God); the pragmatism of a man who lives in the world; the importance attributed to the reading of the text, which has the power to procure material fortune in this world and eternal happiness in the next (which puts on the same plane—as to their effects at least—words and actions). But the next step is perhaps the most interesting. It is well-known that for the Jews, after the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem, prayer was substituted for sacrifice. Reading the biblical passages concerning the sacrifices, as well as their rabbinical interpretations, reinforces this substitution: it is as if one had really offered the sacrifice. Therefore, continues Portaleone, in order to have clearly in mind the situation of the worshiper offering the sacrifice, to have the necessary kawwanah ("intention," or "direction"), you must be able to imagine the concrete scene in which the rite took place. Portaleone puts great emphasis on this aspect, writing, for example (3b): And now, in order that you may be able to direct (‫ )לכוון‬jour entire being to heaven while you are in your House of Prayer, as if (‫ )כאלו‬you were in that other great and holy House [the Temple] [...]. I will copy for you [...].5

4 5

Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, 2b. Ibid., 3a.

There are many passages of this sort in the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym. The author insists on the need to reproduce a situation of the past mentally, through the imagination, so that the religious acts of the present should have the same effect. The expressions that recur are: "You must imagine being there [in the Temple];" 6 "It will be in our eyes just as if you were there, presenting your offerings." 7 This transfer by the mental recreation of a disappeared situation is more than symbolic: it can be called mystical, because in order to address God in an effective way, according to Portaleone, one has to transport himself in a determined time and space. Once the worshipper is there, his words will be able to transform reality (including God). How to encourage this psychological transfer; how to flesh out, as it were, one's memory? By describing the situation, in this case the Temple, in all its concrete reality. And indeed it is the description of the Temple, which makes up the first part of the book, that will render the second part more effective. For only through visualizing the scene will one be able to read with the right kawwanah and to identify more completely with the worshiper in the Jerusalem of the past. This multiple chain (prayers replace religious actions and sacrifices, study or reading replaces prayer, and study necessitates a description of the place of sacrifice) makes it possible for Portaleone to look at the past in a realistic manner. He undertakes a description of the Temple as it really was, setting aside all allegorical significance: one might say the mystical need to identify with the worshipper of the past leads one to see that past in a historical light. If, in order to "be there" one needs to render the past present, then one has first to reconstruct it faithfully. T o this end, Portaleone mobilizes his remarkable knowledge of science, history and philology, to reconstitute the Temple and its site as they actually were. In doing so, he composes a series of treatises typical of the scholarship of his time, speaking of music when he describes the songs of the Levites, of botany when he comes to the offerings of incense, and so on. In his treatment of these subjects, Portaleone juxtaposes traditional Jewish science—from the Talmud through Maimonides to the most recent commentators—and modern seience, including naturally a great many references to ancient science, Greek, Latin and Arabic. We will return later on to this idea of inserting modern content with a religious aim. It is interesting to note, before proceeding with this analysis, that Portaleone's approach, that is, of recreating the scene of the religious event of the past so that the religious practice of the present should be well-oriented (have the right kawwanaB), closely resembles that of the spiritual exercises of Ignatius Loyola (1491-1556), the founder of the Jesuit Order. 8 I will cite as an example the preamble to the first exercise: 6 7 8

Ibid., 101a. Ibid. Cf. D e Nicolas, A. T. 1986. Ignatius de Loyola, powers of imagining: a philosophical hermeneutic of imagining through the collected works of Ignatius de Loyola, with a translation of these works. Albany: State University of New York Press.

The First Prelude is a composition, seeing the place. Here it is to be noted that, in a visible contemplation or meditation—as, for instance, when one contemplates Christ our Lord, Who is visible—the composition will be to see with the sight of the imagination the corporeal place where the thing is found which I want to contemplate. I say the corporeal place, as for instance, a Tempie or Mountain where Jesus Christ or Our Lady is found, according to what I want to contemplate. 9

Speaking of these exercises, Roland Barthes uses the term "transferential relation." 10 The expression "to see with the eyes of the imagination," which occurs repeatedly in the preambles of the spiritual exercises is identical to the expression used by Portaleone. We will also see that the second part of the Spiritual Exercises consists of a collection of quotations from the Gospels, following the life of Christ from the Annunciation to the Ascension: these are the Mysteries of the Life of Christ our Lord. It is very tempting to see a parallel between this second part of Spiritual Exercises and the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym. Much water has flowed under the bridge since Avraham Melamed, in his fundamental study in 1976 on the political thought of Italian Jews in the Renaissance, argued for a parallelism between Portaleone and some Jesuit authors on the subject of political theory. 11 But parallel does not mean identical, quite the contrary: only by bringing out the points that two conceptions have in common can one pinpoint the differences. It is not insignificant, for example, that for Ignatius Loyola it is the historic figure of Jesus Christ, his life, that opens the spiritual exercise, whereas for Avraham Portaleone it is the Temple of Jerusalem and its site. We have pointed out the somewhat paradoxical mixture of traditionalism and "modern" spirit, of mystical piety and recourse to the secular sciences that makes the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym such an unusual work. It had particular success with Catholic and Protestant scholars who found it a mine of information on Antiquitates hebraicae. In the 18th century, whole passages of the Shiltey haGibborym were translated into Latin. 12

9

10

11

12

Fleming, D. L. 1978. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. St Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 32. Saint Ignace de Loyola, Exercices spirituels. Traduits de l'espagnol par J. Ristat. Préface de R. Barthes. Paris 1972, 48. Melamed, A. 1976. Wisdom's little sister. Unpublished Ph. D. Thesis (Hebr.). University of Tel Aviv. Cf. my "Le mythe du politique chez les Juifs italiens des Cités." In Politik und Religion im Judentum. Ed. Ch. Miething. Romania Judaica Band IV, Tübingen, forthcoming; cf. also Miletto, G. "Die Bibel als Handbuch der Kriegskunst nach der Interpretation Portaleones." In Proceedings of the Conference Judentum und cristliche Renaissance, Wittenberg 28-30 june 1998, forthcoming. Ugolini, B. 1744—1769. Thesaurus antiquitatum sacrarum [...] opuscula in quibus veterum Hebraeorum mores, leges, instituta, rituus sacri et civiles il/ustrantur. Venice: J. G. Herthz. Cf. 1" volume, sub initio: "Commentarius de Templo Hierosolomytano ex R. Abrahami ben David Seilte Haggiborim excerptus maximam huius Voluminis partem amplectetur, in quo tanta sese ubique offert rerum praestanda et erudido, ut merito ceteris, qui hoc argumentum illustarunt, preferendus esse videatur." Cf. also Opitio, J. H. 1708. Disquisitio Historico-Philo/ogica de Candelabri Mosaici Admirabili Structura ... Jena: Joh. Phil. Lindner, where Portaleone's Shiltey ha-Gibborym is often quoted. For other quotadons and commentaries of the book, cf. Fürst, J. 1863. Bibliotheca Judaica. Leipzig, vol. 3, 114. A more recent, interesting judgement is in Beugnot, A.-A. 1824. Les Juifs d'Occident, ou Re-

Portaleone's approach was indeed so unusual that Avraham Melamed in the above-mentioned study (which to date is the only research of any depth that has been done on this work, and then only on a specific aspect of it) puts forth the hypothesis that the real aim of the Shiltey ha-Gibborym is to transmit modern knowledge under the cover of pious intentions. Christian censorship, as well as Jewish self-censorship, was much in force; it was not a time to advocate harmony between rational and religious attitudes. Whence the precautions taken by Portaleone who, to express his rational and "modern" knowledge, has to advance in a disguised form, much as Descartes did later on. Portaleone's project, therefore, attempted to modernize Jewish culture by bringing in new content in a form that would be more palatable to the traditionalists. It is impossible, of course, to settle this question with any certainty. I will however present an example of this mixture of traditional aims and mystical content. Then I will propose a comparison with the Portaleone's Latin book, De auro dialogi très, which will show more clearly the particularity of the Shiltey haGibbotym. The example is taken from the very first pages of Portaleone's Hebrew work. It is a description of punctuation inserted into the broadest description of alphabets known at that time, a prelude that the author deemed necessary before plunging into the real work of scholarship. Speaking of the Latin alphabet, Portaleone states that there is no need to reproduce it typographically in order to describe it, as—he writes—"all the children of our people know it perfecdy, in both its printed and its cursive versions." But punctuation did need to be explained. Portaleone explains to his readers the name, shape and function of the main punctuation marks, that is, the comma, the colon and the full stop or period. He gives their names in Greek and Latin (carefully spelling them in Hebrew) then in Italian. Then, to insure better understanding, he describes their function, taking as reference the te'amim, the cantülation signs of traditional Bible reading. In the same spirit as we find in the Ku%ari of Yehuda Halevy, he seizes the opportunity to proclaim that the te'amim were prior to the Latin signs. T o make sure he will be correctly understood, he cites a long biblical verse (Deut 12:11) into which he inserts Latin punctuation marks. He supposes that the reader, familiar with the Masoretic text, will learn the Latin signs by associating them with the te 'amim. I find this procedure both complex and strange. It is unlikely that the readers for whom the Shiltey ha-Gibboiym is intended were not aware of the existence and usage of these signs, as they had been in use in printing for several decades, particularly in Italy and as the educated Italian Jews were perfectly familiar with the culture of the country. Portaleone writes on two levels, one intentional, the other perhaps unintentional. He begins by reducing the basic elements of secucherches sur l'état civil, le commerce et la littérature des Juifs, en France, en Espagne et en Italie, pendant la durée du Moyen Age. Paris: Lachevardière fils, 265-6.

lar culture to Jewish culture. The te'amim of the Torah, according to Jewish tradinon, are revealed, just as its letters. 13 But Portaleone slips over this subject ; what interests him, is not only the fact that they precede latin punctuation, but that they were the model for it, both logically and didactically. This first movement is typical of the fundamentalist attitude in that it reduces external knowledge to traditional knowledge, thus neutralizing it. And Portaleone the penitent was—if we take him at his word—motivated by a fundamentalist piety. But at the same time—and this is the second line of thought—by applying these signs to a biblical verse, he opens the possibility of a reading of the text governed not by the rabia' and atnab but by commas and periods. By bringing the secular into the sacred sphere, in an attempt to reduce the one to the other, he is in fact accomplishing a work of modernization. And if we compare the same verse in Portaleone's punctuated version with those that came out of Protestant circles, one by Antonio Brucioli (in Italian in 1532), another by Pierre Robert Olivétan (in French in 1535), we can judge the effective modernity of Portaleone's version, which is closer to our usual standards. 14 I will conclude with a brief examination of Portaleone's first work, De auro dialogi tres.xs This is a treatise in Latin, in the form of a dialogue, on the medicinal properties of gold, a fundamental subject for the science of the time. After long argumentation, the response of the Jewish doctor is finally negative. Gold has no healing properties. This work is worth studying in the context of the history of science, as the author presents his own scientific ideas and compares them to those of traditional authorities as well as modern authors. Here we should be aware of two aspects. The first is a mistrust of alchemy as a doctrine of occult essences and universal sympathies, close to some aspects of the Cabala. Portaleone—who would later be a great admirer of the cabalist, his contemporary, Menahem Azaria Fano, and would take him as an example when writing his ma'amadothVi— is here suspicious of this kind of mysticism. O n the other hand, he is quite close to the alchemists in their role of experimenters. 17 He creates the character of Dynachrisus, who can be taken as representing himself, and shows him dressed as an alchemist and defying the ironic questions put to him. This form of dress, he explains, is in no way magic, it is merely functional, making it easier to carry out certain chemical experiments. For only on experimentation can truth be founded. 18 13

14

15

16 17

18

Cf. for instance the position of Portaleone's contemporary, the well-known Samuel Archivolti, in his linguistic treatise Arugath ha-bosem, Venice 1603, 92a. For a historical survey of the punctuation in that period, cf. Catach, N. 1994. La Ponctuation. Paris, 28. The only existing analysis of De auro dialogi très is in Thorndike, L. 1929-59. A History of magic and experimental science. New York, vol. 5, 645-647. Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, 3a. Cf. also Ibid. 173b, for a sympathetic judgement of kabbalah. Portaleone's position toward alchemy and experimentadon will be shared later by Francis Bacon. Cf. Advancement of Learning, New York 1900, 19: "The search and endeavors to make gold have brought many useful invendons and instructive experiments to light." De auro dialogi très, 17. Cf. also 17: "Porro si haec, experientia dico, multa nos a primo orto non docuisset, parvum ferme mundanis rebus, inter nos, et radone experda animalia, esset discri-

The motif of experimentation pervades these dialogues, which, as a literary work, are remarkably for their vivacity and wealth of intertextual references. There are many allusions, veiled or not, to Greek and Italian literature, which would be worth researching in their own right.19 The beginning of the third dialogue 20 is particularly significant in this regard. It shows, through a theatrical representation, the impossibility of referring back to tradition in order to find truth. The mystical traditionalism of the repentant Portaleone seems to be clearly in contradiction with the modern-style impatience of the young scientist: Achrivasmus: What are you doing, Ο Dynachrisus, locked away in the depths of the Library so that no matter how hard I knock you do not hear me? Dynachrisus: I am talking with the dead. I conjure them with a particular application. A: O h dear friend! D o you wish to lose your soul? D: May God prevent it! A: Open, I pray. D o not keep me outside any longer. D: Push the doors and they will open at once. A: G o o d day, my Dynachrisus. Oh, how surprising! You have a candle burning in broad daylight. D: That is what the magicians, diviners and enchanters used to do, all those who tried to learn the truth from the dead. A: Are you joking, Dynachrisus, or are you in earnest? What relation have you with the dead? D: I just wanted to see if the dead were strong enough to be of help to me who am alive. But despite all my efforts they do not seem to want to take me under their protection. A: But where are they then, your dead? D: Are you still dulled by sleep? D o you not see the house is full of them? A: Oh, now I understand my ignorance. You were referring to the books! And I thought you were talking to the dead! D: May they stay away from here! There is no kinship between them and me!

Books, the authorities of the past, are therefore mute. 21 Only individual experience can give results that are solid and certain. The contrast with the Shiltey haGibbotym is striking.

19

20 21

men." Cf. 76, where the author derides the blind fidelity to Pline's words. In Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, Portaleone will also "dare" to discuss the traditional masters, but he will do that in a much more caudous way. Cf. for instance the witty allusion to Boccaccio's Decameron at page 21, where Portaleone invites implicitly the reader to look at the tenth "novella" of the ninth day: an extremely obscene one, on a "transformation" which is not really alchemisdc. The reference to Plato's dialogue Eutydemus (88), in a passage in which Dynachrisus (alias Portaleone) is accused to be a sophist, seems to confirm the traditional Christian judgement of the Jewish corpus as "sophistic" literature; but it ends in a rehabilitadon of the character, who despises the material gold and praises the "golden" virtues of morality. De auro dialogi 1res, 89. In 1632—almost fifty years after Portaleone published his Latin dialogues—Galileo Galilei wrote the following, famous words: "Come freely with reasons and demonstrations (yours or Aristode's) and not with textual passages or mere authorities because our discussions are about

It is up to researchers to explain this author's change of attitude between the Latin work of his youth and the Hebrew one written in the last years of his life. Are we in the presence of some sort of fiction in this last book, which is trying to carry modern content into Jewish space while avoiding censorship and mistrust? O r is it a change typical of an era which, troubled by radical and too rapid changes, has difficulty ridding itself of its past? Whatever the case, by his changes of heart, the choice of his subjects and his cultural references, the work of Portaleone represents an important model in the difficult and delicate accession of Jews to modernity.

the sensible world and not about a world of paper." Cf. Finocchiaro, M. A. 1997. Galileo on the World Systems. A New Abridged Translation and Guide. Berkeley/Los Angeles/London, 127.

T H E PROBLEM OF D I V I N E JUSTICE IN SAMUEL D A V I D LUZZATTO'S C O M M E N T A R Y T O T H E DIWAN

OF J E H U D A HALEVI

IRENE KAJON Università degli Studi di Roma "La Sapienza," Italy

At the half of the last century Samuel David Luzzatto edited a collection of sacred hymns and poems of Jehuda Halevi, which he transcribed from a manuscript adventurously arrived in his hands. 1 His edition gave a remarkable impulse to the research about the poetry of this Jewish medieval author: the scholars, who are active after Luzzatto in different environments, consider the results of his work of transcription, vocalization, and explanation as the necessary ground of their own inquiry until our time. 2 But Luzzatto was not only an editor and a competent philologist of Jehuda Halevi's poems; he also presented his most important teachings as a revival and a development of the central thoughts of this poet in some of his writings. 3 Under the influence of Luzzatto's assertions 1

2

3

In 1838 Luzzatto received the manuscript from Eliezer Askenazi, who bought it in Tunis in the same year. O n Askenazi, cfr. Luzzatto's letter of March, 1, 1843 to L. Cantoni in Luzzatto, I. ed. 1881. Catalogo ragionato degli scritti sparst di S. D. hu^atto con riferimcnti agli altri suoi scritti editi e iniditi. Padova. Luzzatto at first published some poems of Jehuda Halevi in Jewish journals (cfr. Calalogo), then edited them in 1840. Betulat Bat Jehudah. Prag, and in 1864. Diwan. Lyck, from which I shall quote. A. Geiger, w h o translated Jehuda Halevi's poems into German (1851 Breslau; reprinted in Geiger, L. ed. 1876. Nachgelassene Schriften. Berlin, III, 97-177), received help from Luzzatto (cfr. Luzzatto's letters of 1851-1852 to A. Geiger in Catalogo ragionato, and in Luzzatto, I. ed. 1878. Index raisonné des Hires de Correspondance de Feu S. D. Lu^~atto, precede d'un Avant-Propos et suivi d'un Essoi de pensées et jugements tirés de ses lettres inédites. Padova). Luzzatto's editorial work is made use of in the collections of medieval Jewish Spanish poetry edited by A. Geiger (1856 Leipzig‫)׳‬, H. Graetz (1862 Breslau), M. Sachs (1901 2. ed. Berlin), and in the edition of Jehuda Halevi's poems by H. Brody (4 vol., 1894-1930 Berlin; reprinted 1971 Westmead, England). Brody's edition is the ground of the editions by S. Bernstein (1944 New York), I. Zemora (1964 Tel Aviv), D o v Jarden (1978 Jerusalem), and of the translations of the poems into English (Salaman, N. ed. 1924 Philadelphia; reprinted 1973 New York), French (Durocher, B. ed. 1985 Paris), and Italian (Cattani, L. ed. 1987 Roma). The first Italian translators and scholars of Jehuda Halevi's poetry pay homage to Luzzatto, his first editor. They include: S. D e Benedetti, whose Jehuda Halevi's Cançoniere appeared in 1871 Pisa; A. Sorani, who placed an essay of Bialik on Jehuda Halevi before his translation of the poems published in 1913 Reggio Emilia; S. Savini, who in 1923 published an article on Jehuda Halevi in II Concilio where he mentioned U. Cassuto as his mentor about this subject. Luzzatto's introductions to his above mentioned collections are reprinted in jehuda Halevi. Selection of Critical Essays on His Poetry. Ed. A. D o r o n 1988: Hakibbutz Hameuchad; and in the Hebrew-French version of Jehuda Halevi's poems, Ed. Y. Arroche and J. G. Valensi. Montpellier, 1988. Cfr. the letter of March, 7, 1839 to G. Brecher, which Brecher included in his edition of Jehuda Halevi's Kuçari according to the Hebrew version of Y. Ibn Tibbon. 1839. Prag, reprinted in S. D. Luzzatto's Hebräische Briefe. Ed. I. Luzzatto, Ε. Graber and D. Kaufmann. 1882. Przemysl, vol. IV, Ν. 235; the letters of July, 8, 1839 to A. Lattes and of December, 6, 1839 to I. S. Reggio in

some researchers have often tried to demonstrate the similarity between his ideas and Jehuda Halevi's ideas.4 O n the contrary the aim of this paper is to point out that the interpreters who stress the affinity between Jehuda Halevi and Luzzatto either do not pay attention to Luzzatto's criticism of Jehuda Halevi, or simply accept the particular interpretation of Jehuda Halevi's thinking given by Luzzatto, which actually is founded on a misunderstanding and therefore is not accurate. Both attitudes of Luzzatto with regard to Jehuda Halevi, i. e. criticism and particular interpretation, are apparent in Luzzatto's commentary to Jehuda Halevi's Diwan in relation to the problem of divine justice. This problem has two different sides: the first side concerns first of all the manner in which a human being who comprehends justice as a divine attribute should see an eventual offense in connection with his own behavior, as a justified event or in some cases as an unjustified event, and then the manner in which this human being should or should not react to this offense; the second side concerns our faith in God as a righteous and benevolent being and our ability to understand the ways which He chooses in order to carry out righteousness and benevolence in the world. Luzzatto criticizes Jehuda Halevi's position with regard to this first side of the problem of divine justice; and he gives a particular interpretation, which misunderstands Jehuda Halevi's words, with regard to this second side. The following two parts of this paper treat both sides of the problem of divine justice, which appear in some of Jehuda Halevi's poems edited by Luzzatto and are discussed in Luzzatto's commentary.

Luzzatto's criticism of Jehuda Halevi's notion of vengeance as an element of divine justice Jehuda Halevi wrote the poem which is the sixth in Luzzatto's edition of the Diwan, when he received some news about the sudden apparition of a Messiah. Luzzatto gives this poem this ride: "Hearing (an idle hearing) that Israel's redemption is near." He thinks that the poet wanted to give other Jews the courage of coming back to Erez Israel through this poem: Far a dove sings well T o W h o m call you give back your good word. Your G o d calls you, quickly Bow down and offer a tribute. T u r n to your nest, to the path of your tent Zion, and raise a sign in your testimony. Your dear w h o exiled you for your bad work He redeems you today, what d o you respond? G e t up and come back to the beautiful land

1890. Epis/olario italiano francese latino di 5. D. Lutgatto pubbhcato da' suoifigti. Padova; the letter of August, 20, 1845 to M. F. Lebrecht in Index Raisonné, 94—96; 1862. Lesjoni di teologia morale israelitica. Padova, Part I, XLVI; 1863. Le^toni di teologia dogmatica israelitica. Trieste, 9, 27, 31. Cfr. Heinemann, I. 1962. La loi dans la pensée juive. De la Bible a Rosenqweig. French version of Ch. Touad, Paris, 167 ff.; Nissim, P. 1966. "Lo studioso e il maestro." Rassegna mensile di Israel sept.oct., 29-41; Klausner J. 1910. "Il carattere, le credenze, le idee." Ibid., 64-102; Lattes D. 1056. "Il poeta." Ibid., 163-173.

Devastate the field of E d o m and the field of Arab. With anger destroy the house of those who destroyed you And build for W h o m loves you a house of love. 5

Luzzatto does not conceal his deep disagreement and uneasiness in front of the antepenultimate and penultimate verses of this poem in his footnotes. He writes in his commentary to those verses: Jehuda Halevi has sucked his faith from the breast of the Bible and from the words of the rabbis (blessed be their memory); but in his poetry he is not free of the way which is characteristic of Ishmaelitic poets and of some Jewish poets prior to him and also affected by Ishmaelitic manners. In fact the Arabs were lovers of wars, seekers of vengeance, and enemies of those who had another cult and they tried either to convert all the nations to their faith or to persecute and to destroy them. Therefore their poets celebrated strength, triumphs and the defeat of enemies. But Israel always was lover of peace, and his only yearning was to live in security under his vineyards and his fig-trees; and Israel never wanted that the other nations converted to Judaism, because his Torah was for him a peculiar property, a particular legacy of Jacob's house. So Jewish poets never celebrated the excellence of strength and vengeance, but only asked G o d to protect His people from his oppressors' hands, and they praised G o d when they were saved from their enemies. The prophets always described future redemption as a divine work, neither in strength nor in power, but in His spirit; they described the nations, among whom Israel was scattered, as their helpers in their return to their fathers' land, and so it was in redemption of Egypt and Babylon ("The nations will take them and bring them toward their place," Is 14:2).

So Luzzatto criticizes the notion of vengeance as an element of divine justice and therefore of human justice, which he finds in this poem of Jehuda Halevi. This concept is described by Luzzatto as a rest of a primitive culture which is very far from Judaism. But it is sound to ask if Luzzatto really understands the reasons that move Jehuda Halevi to maintain this concept. The grounds which explain the position the poet affirms are, indeed, very different from the reasons which Luzzatto makes manifest in his commentary. First of all, in order to understand really these grounds, it is necessary to remind that the antepenultimate and the penultimate verses refer to 2Kings 3:19 (as Luzzatto himself recognizes). It is written in this verse: You will destroy all the fortified towns and all the important towns, cut down all the good trees, fill up all the sources of water, and devastate every good part of land by means of stones.

This prophecy is uttered by Elisha, whom the kings of Judah, Israel and E d o m consult about the result of their war against Moab. About this people in the same chapter it is written that they attacked their enemies when they believed to find them in weakness and distress, and that their king offered his first-born son to gods during the siege of the capital of his kingdom. So the vengeance, to

5

The term " E d o m , " which appears in the antepenultimate verse of this poem, means "Christianity" (cfr. Enc. Jud., entries " E d o m " and "Esau").

whom Jehuda Halevi refers in his poem, does not regard the nations who simply have a faith different from the faith of Israel, as Luzzatto deems in his commentary, but the idolatrous nations who do not accept ethical laws. The fault of the nations who persecute or oppress Israel is not intellectual, but ethical: Jehuda Halevi defends the notion of vengeance in front of these nations because he affirms moral responsibility and freedom of choice between good and evil, and because he connects moral responsibility and freedom to the notions of penalty and justice. Secondly, in order to understand why Jehuda Halevi does not reject vengeance, it is necessary to recall that for him Israel is not only a praying community, as Luzzatto thinks, but an active community too: Jacob's house could hasten redemption if Jacob's house would return into history. Finally, Jehuda Halevi repeats in his poem the Biblical verses about vengeance because he thinks—differendy from Luzzatto—that evil is not only a means for a good aim: certainly, like Luzzatto, he believes that Jewish exile is a means for Jewish purification and therefore mankind's redemption; but he does not believe that this makes Jewish exile completely clear and understandable. If the human being who does an action only is an instrument in God's hands, then he really is not responsible, his deeds always have an explanation as parts of a rational order, and it is impossible to insert punishment in divine justice. O n the contrary, if an action depends on choice which always is not fully transparent, evil never is totally justified and the element of vengeance in justice is understandable. For Jehuda Halevi God remains the creator of good and evil, light and darkness, as He is for the Bible; for Luzzatto God only is the creator of good and light. Therefore there is not an estrangement of Jehuda Halevi from Jewish sources in his poem, as Luzzatto maintains; on the contrary, Luzzatto is far from the Bible exactly because of his thought about God. So the concepts of human freedom and evil which Jehuda Halevi and Luzzatto advocate are extremely different. Their idea of divine and human justice rests on these concepts: Jehuda Halevi thinks that vengeance is a necessary ingredient of divine justice (which eventually could be completed, but never superseded by love for enemies and forgiveness in human history—and the relationship between justice and love is of course a very difficult problem); Luzzatto does not think so. Therefore the modern interpreter criticizes the medieval poet.

Luzzatto's interpretation of the notions of faith and philosophy in Jehuda Halevi The ideas that God alone is a benevolent being, that the world and history are understandable, that evil only is a means for a good end, on which Luzzatto grounds his criticism of the element of vengeance in divine justice, are dear to him from the very beginning of his reflection. One can find these ideas in many points of his commentary to the Diwan of Jehuda Halevi/‫ ׳‬in a juvenile text and in other writings and letters.7 Luzzatto connects these ideas to his concept of 6 7

Cfr. the footnotes to the poems which have the numbers 10, 15, 25, 36. Cfr. the poem of 1818, written at the age of 18, mentioned in the memoirs that were published in German in ]ahrbuch für Israelitin. 1848, reprinted in Italian in 1878-1882. Autobiografia, preceduta

common sense as the faculty which permits human beings to comprehend God's ways, although in a persuasive, rather than in a rigorous and systematic manner: not philosophy, but sound pracdcal judgment understands how Providence works in the world. Luzzatto grounds Jewish faith in the revelation at Sinai on this understanding. With regard to the notions of faith and philosophy Luzzatto states his agreement with Jehuda Halevi only because he gives an interpretation of these notions, which does not correspond to the meanings they actually have in Jehuda Halevi's texts: the medieval philosopher identifies faith with the faith of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the faith of the prophets and of everybody who studies and observes the Torah and the uninterrupted tradition the interpreters build on the Torah; instead Luzzatto identifies faith first of all with the faith of common sense, when it builds a not rigorous metaphysics, and then with the faith in God as the being who gave the unchangeable Torah to all Jewish generations. For Jehuda Halevi philosophy is a strict science of being which certainly does not recognizes revelation, but can be useful as a means of arguing and proving after the reception of revelation; for Luzzatto philosophy is a frivolous science, which claims to investigate methodically what is beyond human power. The meanings which Yehuda Halevi gives to the terms "faith" and "philosophy," how he sees the relationship between these terms, the interpretation of these terms and of this relationship in Jehuda Halevi which Luzzatto offers, the antagonism between Jehuda Halevi and Luzzatto about these points, become apparent if one confronts the Ku%ari* with Luzzatto's writings and letters. 9 The positions of both authors on these subjects also appear in the poem that has the number 31 in Jehuda Halevi's Diwan edited by Luzzatto, and in Luzzatto's footnotes to this poem. This is the poem: Beautiful and good is to raise a camp in Your house For the people where Your name is encamped. da alcune notice storico-letterarie sullafamiglia Lu^atto a datart da/ secolo XVI. Padova (German edition by I. Luzzatto, S. Morais and M. Grunwald 1882, Padua, 87-88); 1848-1852. II Giudaismo illustrato nella sua teorica, nella sua storia e nella sua letteratura. Padova, particularly the essays "Essenza del Giudaismo" and "Lezioni di storia giudaica"; 1857. Discorsi morali agit studenti israeliti. Padova (particularly the talks of May 1833, May 1835, December 1844); Lesjoni di teologia morale israelitica, "Introduzione," XXIV; Leqoni di teologia dogmatica israelitica, 29-30; letters of July, 3, 1839 to I. S. Reggio, of February, 12, 1854 to T. Randegger, of September, 24, 1857 to M. Steinschneider, in Epistolario ita/iano francese latino. 8 9

I, N. 11, 19-25, 63; II, N. 34; III, N. 40-41, 64-67; V, N. 1 - 6 , 13-14. Cfr. II Giudaismo il/ustrato, pardcularly "Essenza del Giudaismo," the Hebrew poem "Derech Eretz ο Atizismus." Sion I, 81-93. March 1841, Italian version under the tide "II falso progresso." By E. Padova; 1863; Pontremoli, 1879. "Atticisme e t j u d a i s m e " (1838). Ossär Nehmad. IV, 131-132; Leqioni di teologia dogmatica israelitica, 13 ff.; "Introduzione critica ed ermeneutica" and "Prefazione" to 1871. Il Pentateuco volgari^ato e commentato. Padova; letters of November 26, 1838, February 21, 1839, May 9, 1839, July 3, 1839 to I. S. Reggio, and of August 24, 1857 to G . Besso, in Epistolario italiano francese latino. About the meaning that Luzzatto gives to "Atticisme" cfr. Autobiografia: he takes the term from D e Jaucourt, who wrote the entry "Paris" in the Ençyclopedie (1765. Dictionnaire Raisonné des Sciences, des Arts et des Metiers. T o m e XI; reprint of the first ed. 1751-1780, 1966 Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt); but D e Jaucourt distinguishes between external politeness and Greek philosophy, which both exist in Athens in different forms than in Paris, while Luzzatto blames all of Greek culture with the excepdon of aesthetics and technical progress.

The name, which stays in eternal height, but He Stays in a broken heart and with a humiliated man. The highest heavens do not hold Him, But He came down to Sinai and was in the bush. His way is very near and very far Because all He did is for being and for an end. A thought is in my heart from my G o d A response is on my tongue from my G o d too.

This is Luzzatto's explanation of the content of this poem: The manner of Your paths is near and far, easy and difficult to understand, because all He does is for an end, for a particular aim which depends on the intention about that thing, and this aim sometimes has a meaning for us, sometimes has not a meaning. Beyond the word "for an end" which is taken from the sentence "All God did, is for an end of His" (Prov 16:4), there is the sentence "in order to be," i. e. there is nothing without a cause, but all is produced by conditions, and every loss changes into a benefit; so all G o d does is for a benefit, and not for a loss or for a damage.

Besides, Luzzatto says about the penultimate and the last verses: "As all the things God created are for an end, also every thought comes from God into my heart, and every word from Him into my tongue." In his poem, as we can observe, Jehuda Halevi sees the relationship between God and human beings, God's presence at Sinai, the miracle of the burning bush, the eternal divine love for Israel as the most important points from which it is possible to ponder on God's paths in the world, however these paths remain very far away and therefore in-comprehensible. O n the contrary, in his notes Luzzatto makes revelation dependent on common sense's knowledge that all is ultimately good, however divine paths are not comprehensible to a rigorous and evident philosophical science. Jehuda Halevi thinks that revelation as a fact is prior to the knowledge of God and the world, and therefore that revelation always happens again in time in different shapes. O n the contrary, Luzzatto thinks that revelation, as it was in the past once and for all, is founded in the knowledge, however an unscientific one, of Creator and creation. But Luzzatto introduces his commentary as if it really would express the meaning of Jehuda Halevi's poem. While the modern interpreter justifies Jewish faith through sound practical intelligence, the medieval poet recognizes Jewish faith as the ground which gives legitimacy to the ideas of creation and redemption, however evil remains dark in its last root.

O N T H E C H R O N O L O G Y OF ELIA DEL M E D I G O ' S PHYSICAL W R I T I N G S JOSEP PUIG MONTADA Universidad Complutense, Madrid, Spain

Elia del Medigo (ca. 1460-1493) is very well known for his Book on the Essence of the Religion, 1 which he wrote after his return to his native Crete. H o w ever his major activity was as a translator of Averroes' Hebrew versions into Latin and as a philosopher commenting on Averroes' writings and following his doctrines. 2 Italy was the place for this twofold activity; we know that in 1480 he set up in Venice and became an active Averroist of the Renaissance scene with his publication of the Qyaestio de ejficientia mundi. Shortly thereafter he began to teach at Padova University but no official records about it are extant. His friendship with Giovanni Pico della Mirandola dates from this year and although in 1482, Pico left Padova for Florence and Elia for Venice, they met again in Florence in 1485. 3 During the years 1481-86, Elia did the double work of translation and commentary o n Averroes' Hebrew writings for his friend and disciple. The essays De primo motore and De esse et essentia et uno as well as his Annotationes to the commentary on the Physics should be mentioned here. For later years, reference must be made to D o m e n i c o Cardinal Grimani, again a disciple and supporter of Elia. 4 Elia rated his work as a commentator much higher than that as translator, as he tells us in the introduction to his commentary on the Metereologica·. T o explain the words of the philosophers is worthier than to translate them from one language into another. 5 Besides he wrote on subjects of importance for his contemporaries, where he continuously relied on quotations of Aristode, Philosophus, and of Averroes, Commentator. 1

2

3

4

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Ed. Reggio, I. S., Vienna 1833 (Repr. Jerusalem 1969). Cridcal ed. Ross, J. J.1984. Tel Aviv: University. English transi. Geffen, M. D. 1970. Faith and Reason in Elijah del Medigo's Behinat h a Dat and the Philosophic Backgrounds of the Work. Columbia University, PhD, 389-462. Three classical works give us relevant information: Dukas, J. 1876. Recherches sur l'histoire littéraire du 15e. siècle (Laurent Maioli, Pic de la Mirandole, Elie del Medigo). Paris. Perles, J. 1884. Beiträge %ur Geschichte der hebräischen und aramäischen Studien. Munich. Cassuto, U. 1918. Gli Ehret a Firen^e nell'età del Rinascimiento. Florence, 282-299. See also Geffen, Faith and Reason, 5-39. For an updated bibliography, see Bartôla, A. 1993. "Eliyahu del Medigo e Giovanni Pico della Mirandola. La testimonianza dei codici vadcani." Rinascimento 33, 253—254. See Kieszkowski, B. 1964. "Les rapports entre Elie del Medigo et Pic de la Mirandole (d'après le ms. lat. 6508 de la Bibliothèque Nadonale)." Rinascimento, Seconda serie, 4, 41-91, and Bartôla, ibid. 253-278. See Paschini, P. 1943. Domenico Grimani, Cardinale di J. Marco (+1523). Storia e Letteratura IV, Rome; for their relationship, 8-9. Quamquam hoc opus difficile atque indignum mihi esse reputo, dignius aliquid est ex dictis philosophorum, et si sit parum, dectarare et intelligere quam de una lingua in atiam libros transfem. In Meteora (Venecia: Andrea de Thoresanis de Asula, anno Domini 1488, die vero 12 idus septembris), fol. 1 r l .

Del Medigo devoted several studies to the philosophy of nature: De primo motore, De effidentia mundi, and Annotationes.'‫ ׳‬I consider the Qyaestio de mundi effidentia as the first in time, although there is a reference at the beginning to a proposition to be made clear, which "has already been made clear in the Qvaestione de primo motore."1 This seems to be a later addition by an editor in the age of printing, because De primo motore is prior to De mundi effidentia in the collection, but there are several reasons for reversing the order chronologically. At the end (Effirientia, f. 136 M) we read finis huius opusculi factum est Venetiis 1480. This is a rather early date, before he met Pico della Mirandola. He promises to discuss the subject in greater extent (magisprolixe) with God's help: for now, he had wished only to write the philosophers' accounts up to that point, adding that "it is known that the way of the Scripture is different from the philosophical way." Asserts like this gained him the reputation of sustaining the double-truth doctrine. In this Qyaestio de mundi effidentia Elia bases his knowledge on Aristode and Averroes, and for the second he mainly uses his treatise De substantia orbis* and his Short, Middle, and Long (Book XII, Lâm) Commentaries on the Metaphysics,9 He sometimes quotes the Long Commentary on De caelo and Ibn Bâjja's totam summam Philosophiae et Eogicae (Effidentia, f. 136 F).10 Therefore the Qvaestio de primo motore should come after De mundi effidentia in time. Geffen places its composition between the end of 1480 and the beginning of 1482." From the foreword reproduced in the editions of 1544 and later ones, it appears that Elia wrote the treatise after a public discussion at the University of Padova which took place in 1480.12 Moreover the sources for his discussion in De primo motore are more numerous. T o those already indicated above, there may be added: a) the Short, Middle and Long Commentaries on the Physics·, b) the Epitome of De caelo‫׳‬, c) idem of Metenologicar, d) Long and Short Commentaries on De anima; e) Averroes' capital

6

For Renaissance editions of Elia's works, see "Continuidad medieval en el Renacimiento: El caso de Elia del Medigo." ha Ciudad de Dios 206 (1993) 51-53. 7 Effidentia, f. 134 H. For all the quotadons I shall use the Venetian edition of Hieronymus Scotus, 1552 as in the copy preserved in the Staatsbibliothek of Munich. 8 In Aristotelis Opera Omnia cum Averrois ... Commentants, Venice: apud Iunctas 1562- 1574, (Repr. Frankfurt 1962) vol. IX, ff. 3-14. From now on, I quote this edidon as Iunctas. Hebrew ed. & English transi, by A. Hyman, Cambridge, Mass.: The Mediaeval Academy of America, 1986. 9 Elia reads Averroes in the Hebrew and Latin versions and he has often translated his works into Latin, as above mentioned. For the inventory of Averroes' commentaries, see Wolfson, H. A. 1973. "Plan for the publicadon of a Corpus commentariorum Averrois in Aristotetem." In his Studies in the History of Philosophy and Religion. Vol. I, Cambridge, Mass., 430-445. 10 Avempace has not a work with such a tide, but many short writings which can be subsumed under a general ride, as in this case seems to happen. For his works see Jamâl a d - D i n al-Alawî, Mu 'aUafât Ihn Rushd. Beirut-Casablanca 1983. 1 ‫ י‬Faith and Reason, 14, note. 12 Qui ohm in hoc Studio Patavino quaestionem banc publice optime disseruit, ed. Venice, apud heredes LuceantoniiJunte, 1544, f. 122 rl. Twice a year, every professor of the Padovan university held a public discussion which was attended by other professors, students and sometimes by the Venetian authorities. With reference to this discussion see Lucchetta, F. 1964. II medico efitosofoBeHunese Andrea Alpago (+ 1522). Padova, 10-11.

book: Destructio destructions,13 and f) De conttexione intellectus abstracti cum homines "Rabi Moysis," i.e. Maimonides, and his Guide of the Perplexed are mentioned (ff. 126 Ρ, 127 Β, 134 Β). Aquinas (f. 126 Κ), with whom he disagrees, and Albert the Great (f. 134 A) also appear, but Del Medigo pays more attention to Burleigh and to the 14 th -century Averroist John of Jandun. 15 Indeed, John is the author of a treatise in which he faces the issue whether the eternal beings have efficient cause, Utrum aeternis repugnet habere causam effirientemu> and this is the issue discussed by Elia in both Quaestiones. In any case, Elia insists that his positions are just a compilation (aggregata) of those of Aristode and Averroes, because he did not take anything from the "Moderns." (Motore, f. 134 G). In sume, we notice a larger bibliographical basis than in the already mentioned Qyaestio de efficientia mundi and, therefore, we may consider De primo motore to be later. N o doubt the Clarisssimae annotations in dictis Averrois super libros Physicorum were written after these two books. At the very beginning he confesses that Giovanni Pico della Mirandola asked him for these notes which he describes as "some things that come to my mind about the book of Phjsicf'u and in which he speaks only as a philosopher. Therefore we have to assume that they were written during the time the two men were together, and in fact, at the end of the notes, he states that the book was finished in Florence in fine Iulij of 1485. The basis of the Annotationes is larger than that of De primo motore, as it adds Averroes' Long Commentary on the Posterior Analytics, and [Middle] Commentaries on the Topics, De generatione et corruptione, his commentaries on the series De animalibus and on Plato's Republic,™ a work that Elia had translated for Pico della Mirandola. 19 O n the other hand, his references to Latini like Burleigh, Grosseteste or even Jandun are many and he often criticizes them for being moved as he is by an interest to reconstruct the true thinking of Averroes. Why did the editor place De primo motore before the Qvaestio de effidentia mundi? Both quaestiones focus on the same issue, whether the First Mover, identified with God, moves the outermost sphere as a final cause or also as an efficient cause, the Agent. However the Qvaestio de effidentia mundi deals with the subject in a less developed form as the Qvaestio de primo motore, which therefore makes the former writing somehow redundant. The editor, or maybe Elia himself, decided to place the De primo motore at the beginning according to its importance. 13

14

15

16

17 18

19

Arabic text of Tahâfut at-Tahâfut ed. by Bouyges, M. 1930. B.A.S. Ill, Beirut; English transi, by Van den Bergh, S. 1954. 2 vols. Oxford; medieval Latin version ed. by Zedier, Β. 1961. Milwaukee, Wise. Latin, in the mendoned edidon of Aristode and Averroes' works (Note 11): apud Iunctas, vol. IX, folios 155 ff. Hebrew text with English transi, by Kaiman, P. B. 1982. The Epistle of the Possibility of Conjunction with the Active Intellect by Ihn Rushd. New York. For his biography and works, see Schmugge, L. 1966. Johannes von Jandun (1285/89-1328). Stuttgart. Edited by Maurer A. 1955. "John of Jandun and the Divine Causality." Mediaeval Studies 17, 197207. Aliqua quae circa Librum Physicorum mihi apparent (Annotationes, f. 138 F). Averroè: Parafrasi della "Repubblica" nella tradusjone latina di Elia de!Medigo. Ed. A. Coviello and P. E. Fornaccioni. 1992. Florence. ... dedaratum est a Piatone in suo de Regtmine ciuitatis; et ab Averroi in commentario vnius Hbri, quern tradu.xi vobis de hebraico in latinum (Annotationes, f. 138 G; also 150 A).

LA SABIDURÍA ÉTICA DE SPINOZA EN PERSPECTIVA HISTÔRICA RAMÔN RODRÎGUEZ AGUILERA Universidad de Sevilla, Spain

Libertad como liberation e incremento de la potencia humana: pero con escaso control de la acciôn externa Objetivo central de Spinoza era mostrar c o m o posible y deseable un aprendizaje de la libertad humana, polémicamente sostenido entonces en contra del sentido religioso trascendental de la vida. El ser humano, segûn Spinoza, dene una capacidad de liberarse gradualmente de la dependencia exterior inercial, en la que se halla inserto como ser finito y sensible, llegando a ser cada vez más activo y autônomo, llegando a tener cada vez más "realidad," ο "perfecciôn." Ser libre equivale a incrementar una potencia humana natural, actuando cada vez más por fines propios, reconocibles por la razôn. La consecuencia más inmediata de esta forma de libertad es la felicidad 0 gozo que acompana a una vida virtuosa y a la experiencia de la verdad·. una especie de serenidad ο seguridad vital, de certe^a intelectuai y emodva a la vez. Para alcanzar esta genuina forma de "salvaciôn" (terrenal ο intelectual), es decir, esta forma de vida, a un uempo, libre y feliz, piadosa y prospéra, virtuosa y sabia, habria que comenzar desprendiéndose de la falsa creencia ("supersdciosa") de que existe un más allà del m u n d o natural: con un supuesto origen (temporal) en la voluntad de un Dios creador y espiritual, y con una meta de salvaciôn, después de la muerte, reservada a un aima humana inmortal. Conciliando, en la conducta présente ο en la actual relaciôn vital con la Naturaleza, la satisfacciôn del propio deseo y de las exigencias de los afectos (como una fuerza constructiva, en principio, y no como un mal menor), con el uso de la inte/igencia y de la ra%pn, en una esforzada búsqueda de equilibrio interior ο personal. Y siempre, de manera parcial y graduai: pues, segûn Spinoza, nada ni nadie escapa de la necesidad lôgica del mundo, ni logramos nunca un control ο dominio completo de nuestros actos. Ahora bien, esta bûsqueda constante de una seguridad racional—calificable, por su objetivo final, de "absoluta"—en un m u n d o natural, considerado por Spinoza como expresiôn temporal de una Sustancia inalterable y eterna, no deberia convertirse en otra forma de huida ο de desvalorizaciôn del m u n d o real e inmediato, donde transcurre la vida humana, con sus cambios incesantes, su dolor, inseguridades e insatisfacciones inevitables. Ni tampoco debería implicar una mera integraciôn, ο adaptaciôn pasiva—ο activa solo a través de la razôn ο el entendimiento—en un m u n d o considerado c o m o ya dado, prefijado ο "cerrado," pues se excluiria entonces el desarrollo de una individualidad humana concreta y toda posible novedad ο innovaciôn interior ο exterior. Spinoza no incu-

rre, por supuesto, en este determinismo fatalista. Pero, para marcar ya—en coincidencia con Dewey—una primera distancia cridca respecto de él: su novedosa metafísica inmanente y naturalista tampoco inaugura un mundo propiamente "abierto," tal y como ha comenzado a ser posible solo a partir de la revoluciôn industrial y la libertad moderna, es decir, con la activa modificaciôn, ο "liberaciôn," del propio sujeto en su interaction con el medio natural y social. El naturalismo metafisico y ético de Spinoza, anclado en una divinidad trascendente respecto del mundo de las cosas creadas, no se puede subsumir, sin más, en la clàsica dicotomia ontolôgica de la necesidad eterna y de la contingencia temporal: pues la Sustancia (divina) es ahora inseparable de su efecto (mundano). Por eso, esta forma de inmanentismo teolôgico (que no de ateismo, ni propiamente de panteismo) abre una nueva perspectiva vital, una relation "mental" del sujeto con el Universo, que lo distingue de sus precedentes medievales. Inaugura un tipo de seguridad vital nuevo, de claras consecuencias sociales y politicas, en parte, a su vez, como consecuencia de su critica consciente y bien argumentada de la disposiciôn religiosa trascendental (judia ο cristiana), y como consecuencia, precisamente, de su sincera religiosidad y ansia de salvaciôn eterna. El teismo tradicional, con su prestigio y su poder, pero también con su artificio y "necedad," se fue quedando sin razones filosôficas y sin programa práctico, convirtiéndose más bien en un obstâculo para preservar una "verdadera fe." Sus fines morales contrariaban las exigencias de la naturaleza humana y del orden social emergente. Taies fines, absolutizados, eran también fuentes existenciales de temor y de engano, esto es, del miedo al castigo divino ο social y de la esperanza de un lejano premio futuro separados de la utilidad real de evitar males mayores ο de conseguir bienes mayores. Spinoza supo mostrar, en aquellas circunstancias, lo que más convenia, ο lo que convenia verdaderamente, al individuo y al Estado: la virtud de la feliridad, gozo ο beatitud interior, y la virtud de la pa%rivily la seguridad. Y argumenté, con persuasiva lôgica que existia una relaciôn intrínseca entre la utilidad de la "comunidad" socio-politica y la utilidad del individuo, considerado una "parte" de la sociedad. La seguridad del Estado no consistía ya, en su concepciôn, en la simple evitaciôn de la guerra ο en la mera sujeciôn de esclavos obedientes, sino que se asentaba en la misma seguridad de la vida (Tratado Politico, cap. V). Así, el principio de "legitimidad" del Estado—como vendría más tarde a denominarse—arraigaba ya, al igual que la posibilidad de la libertad individual, en el principio ontolôgico de la necesidad natural, rompiendo asi, decisivamente, con la arbitrariedad de la fortuna ο la veleidad de la voluntad. El transcurrir histôrico se encargaría de demostrar que el control legal e institucional de la coacciôn y la Justicia, asi como el bienestar material, la felicidad, el amor y la amistad, serian a la larga fines, resortes y môviles más eficientes y estables que los valores "trascendentales," utilizados de hecho por un poder grupal confesional, a veces sectario, y asociados siempre al miedo ο a la venganza, separândose en fin de los intereses de todos, de la razôn comûn y hasta de ley misma. Lo que para una mentalidad tradicionalista ο "popular" pudo ser visto entonces como una mera critica interna y hasta destructiva de un pasado noble y sagrado, iniciaba—con Spinoza en su relaciôn particular con las innovaciones postrenacentistas y reformistas de su época—un nuevo talante humano e

intellectual, con el que todavia, pese a su notable "idealismo metafïsico" ο a su "mentalismo" interior ο racionalista, es posible dialogar, criticamente, y no solo establecer una distancia histôrica. Dios (redefinido por Spinoza como Sustancia eterna e intemporal en relaciôn con sus "modos" temporales, anâlogamente a como el Dios de las Escrituras habia sido definido con frecuencia en relaciôn contigua con las cosas creadas) seguia siendo la realidad ultima existente, ο el sustento de toda la realidad, y, por tanto también, el supremo valor ο bien supremo. Pero, adviértase el cambio semántico: Dios es, ciertamente, causa de todo, y también de la vida humana, pero no el sentido de la vida humana. Es ya la insobornable fe del creyente, con su perspecriva racio-vitalista autônoma, la que créa el sentido .de la realidad y de la propia vida. Dios (realidad a la vez trascendente e inmanente), objeto del conocimiento verdadero y del amor intelectual, se hace de hecho inseparable de esta disposiciôn humana, del "afecto" intelectual y activo que serena y fortalece el ànimo. El aprendi^aje efectivo de un nuevo sentido de la libertad racional y de la felicidad del sabio spinozista, ο del propio Spinoza, no se retrae ya, por tanto, a un mundo aislado y / ο comunitario de la sola fe, ο a un recinto de mera contemplaciôn ociosa, ni se reduce tampoco a una funciôn social de privilegio. Esta forma de fe religiosa e intelectualista, heredada del pasado y reafirmada a contracorriente, constituye de hecho un tipo nuevo de interioridad que corre en paralelo y en concomitancia con el surgir histôrico, minoritario, pero significativo, del moderno espiritu cientifico y artistico y de la formation inicial del ciudadano a partir del sùbdito, que ya no es esclavo (ni psicolôgico ni social), pues obedece al Estado y a la ley civil también por su propia utilidad. Asi, pues, en aquel mundo histôrico en cambio estructural por efecto del desarrollo material e intelectual, la nueva orientation ética de Spinoza era innovadora y funcional principalmente en estos dos aspectos: 1. Frente al trascendentalismo teolôgico, ο incluso frente a cualquier forma nueva de utôpico idealismo, falsamente critico e inaplicable, la justification naturalista de los valores y de las normas situaba, con eficacia, los fines humanos en el lugar pertinente de la action. Aunque la action humana era todavia, ciertamente, una action pnncipalmente interna, esto es, una prolongation de las actitudes "mentales" ο de la "union" de la mente con la Naturaleza, la conducta humana se comprendia como un conjunto peculiar de hechos naturales sometidos a las leyes mecánicas generales, y en relation con las instituciones sociales y poh'ricas. La modernidad se avistaba entonces con el lema todavia medieval "el ser es el valor," pero ello ya no significaba que el "valor" fuese todavia una cualidad objetiva del Ser, ni que fuese inherente a las cosas mismas, y ni siquiera un atributo intrinseco a la naturaleza del alma ο de la mente (Etica, III, 9, esc.; Ε, IV, 37, esc. 2), sino más bien que todo deber-ser, conforme al que la action se orienta, presupone no un fin trascendente, sino una causa, un ser real, y en particular un ser vivo, un sujeto que piensa, desea y évalua, es decir, que establece activamente una relaciôn practica de su cuerpo y su mente con las cosas, y acaso con los demás sujetos. Por eso, el mal mismo, en que se puede incurrir, no es sino "la privation de un estado más perfecto" y posible que el ser humano pierde por las acciones

errôneas que daiian ο menoscaban su potencia natural, es decir, su propia capacidad de ser, perdurar y actuar (Carta 19, E, III, 7, 9,11, etc.) 2. Para desarrollar (plenamente, y hasta de un modo excelente) esta potencia inmanente de ser en relaciôn abierta con el mundo natural, era necesaria una concepciôn de la identidad humana que conciliase la dimension volitiva e intelectiva de la action y de la vida humana misma. Aunque en esta "antropologia" spinoziana la voluntad propiamente dicha no cumplia todavia y con claridad la funciôn activa que en principio le corresponde, esto es, de poder cambiar también las condiciones externas de la action humana, la reconciliation de los afectos ο emotiones con la razôn cognoscitiva e intuitiva otorgaba, ante todo, sinceridad "cordial" y enérgica vitalidad a la vida practica humana. Sin embargo, la original formulation metafisica de esta compenetraciôn entre el conocer y el hacer ve disminuido su acierto novedoso al reducirse al nivel de la acciôn 0 disposition mental,, a la consecution de una plenitud ο serenidad interior, respecto de la que habria medir ο evaluar todas las demâs formas de acciôn. Ello situa esta sabiduria ética en buena medida todavia en un mundo histôrico "premoderno," y en particular "pretecnolôgico," aunque el sujeto comience a aprender a auto-controlar reflexivamente la utilidad y el placer de su propia conducta. Estos dos rasgos senalados, la incorporation de los valores a la acciôn del sujeto (1) y la conciliation de lo racional y lo afectivo-volitivo (2), deciden, pues, la portion de novedad y las limitaciones de la position ética de Spinoza. Por un lado, la orientation externa de la acciôn interior distingue a Spinoza del budismo ο del estoicismo clàsico, y lo convierte, a su modo, en un critico avant la lettre del subjetivismo individualista, que tenderia a escatimar la dimensiôn ontolôgica, objetdva ο real de los valores, por ejemplo, bajo las formas del moralismo intentional, del monismo liberal individualista, ο del posterior emotivismo moral ο formalismo juridico extremo. Por otro lado, en cuanto la acciôn se halla orientada solo desde la actividad mental interior, el sujeto no actûa de hecho en reciproca interaction con el entorno (natural ο especificamente humano) esto es, no incorpora positivamente las circunstancias ο "medios" externos hasta convertirlos, en algunos casos, en "finés" propios de su acciôn. Es decir, el control "voluntario" no se extiende, expresa y claramente, a todas las consecuencias de la acciôn. Pese a sus ambivalencias y limitaciones, résulta todavia un valor imprescindible la nueva relaciôn intrinseca entre la "salvation" del individuo y la "salvaciôn del pueblo." El relativo autocontrol de la conducta individual corre en paralelo con el incremento también graduai de la autonomia y la seguridad de la sociedad. Las pasiones encontradas tienden a conciliarse también en la conducta social, a través de la regulation legal y a través de la education cultural. Equilibrio éste, entre el sentido ético de la acciôn individual y el sentido ético de la acciôn del Estado, que se mantiene por encima de la dualidad, tan marcada en el pensamiento de Spinoza, entre el ideal de autosuficiencia del sabio, activo, sereno y consciente de sus relaciones sociales, y la mayor dependencia y pasividad del vulgo ο de la masa, que practica la virtud sin conocimiento racional y que acaso a escapa de manera instintiva y tumultuosa del ordenamiento religioso ο social

tradicional, obedeciendo al nuevo Estado más por la pasiôn que por la razôn. Pero, en el nuevo Estado civil se abririan a la larga nuevos cauces de pardcipaciôn institucional y se iniciaría la formaciôn de una cierta opinion publica por encima de las iglesias ο confesiones. En ultima instancia, se trata de una dualidad sociolôgica (sabio/masa) estable, pero no histôricamente inalterable, dada la comûn naturaleza humana, cuyo dinamismo histôrico el propio Spinoza no liega, sin embargo, a hacer explicito. Empenado ante todo en resolver el problema de su felicidad y / o de su salvaciôn eterna, acomeriô Spinoza una nueva "reforma de la mente," que acabô convirtiéndose de hecho en una invitaciôn dirigida, en primer lugar, a la minoria dirigente y más capaz, politica y culturalmente de Holanda y de Europa: "el hombre que se guia por la razôn es más libre en el Estado, donde vive segûn las leyes que obligan a todos, que en soledad, donde solo se obedece a si mismo" (Ε, IV, 73). El nuevo sentido de la moral y de la justicia exigirian ya la éliminaciôn de todo odio reactivo, hasta el punto que una sentencia judicial guiada por la pasiôn y no por la ley pasaria a considerarse ya como una forma de venganza. Como una consecuencia indirecta, pero explicita, pues, de unir la fe judaica recibida con el ideal ético racional del Amor intelectual a Dios, se creô una conexiôn material entre las exigencias de la ley y de la justicia y la fuerza ética del amor (personal y social), de la que no tenia noticia la humanidad anteriormente. Y de hecho, el proceso general "civilizatorio occidental," aunque no por influencia destacada de Spinoza, ha respondido también a algunos de los rasgos de esta forma de aprendizaje conductual y moral de la libertad, que afectaba desigualmente al sabio y a la masa. Una creciente autorientaciôn psiquica de los individuos, con una menor incidencia del miedo y la esperanza de origen "trascendental," sucediô ο acompanô a la centralization politica de la coacciôn social (Norbert Elias). A largo plazo, la libertad como aprendizaje en la autorregulaciôn de la vida, como incremento de la potencia y autonomia, individual y social (también politica) ha sido también un hecho histôrico.

La libertad como poder y el derecho del poder: las dificultades de un realismo normativo metafisico. La libertad "politica," entendida como libertad de pensamiento y de expresiôn y como "verdadero fin del Estado" (7TP, cap. XX), se asienta en la misma necesidad y en la misma facultad, capacidad ο derecho natural de cada cual de autoafirmarse y de usar su razôn como efecto temporal de una esencia eterna. El individuo solo ο aislado no puede sobrevivir materialmente, ni desarrollar su socialidad natural, ni conducir virtuosamente su vida. Por convencimiento espontaneo ο por la fuerza, acaba transfiriendo parte de su derecho natural al Estado. Ahora bien, en el nuevo orden social y politico ya no podrà con impunidad combatir a los demás con odios, iras ο enganos, ni rebelarse contra el Estado aunque sea injusto, pues solo el "supremo poder" tiene entonces el "supremo derecho" sobre cada sûbdito, a través de preceptos y de acciones que buscan la utilidad de todos y su consentimiento. (TTP, cap. XVI). Existe, pues, pese al cambio de situation ο estado, una transiàôn ontolôgica continua entre el derecho ο

capacidad natural de cada cual de hacer en principio todo cuanto puede hacer, sin más criterios que quererlo y poderlo hacer, y el derecho comiin de todo el Estado, que puede decidir "en virtud de una decision ο acuerdo unánime" lo que es bueno y lo que es malo, lo que es legal ο legitimo y lo que no lo es, e imponer por tanto la obediencia, de buen grado ο a la fuerza (TP, cap. II, & 19). La fuerza inercial natural ontolôgico-modal (vis ο conatus) tiende a preservarse y durar en la existencia individual y en el orden social donde esta existencia se desarrolla. ^Résulta aceptable (por nosotros y hoy dia) esta continuidad entre dos niveles claramente heterogéneos de la acciôn, es decir, entre su determinaciôn individual y su alcance social, y por tanto también, entre la libertad entendida como un hecho y la libertad entendida como valor? Tal continuidad parece desde luego más razonable desde el punto de vista de la genealogia evolutiva: en la génesis histôrica del Estado alguna continuidad real comparten la acciôn humana individual en el "estado de naturaleza" y la acciôn individual y social en el orden socio-politico. Pero nos résulta más problemâtica desde el punto de vista de la "justification" del valor de la libertad. Pero, en rigor, Spinoza no se propone dar "justification" alguna: expresa sin más una preferencia ο conveniencia efectivas. Los valores surgen, ciertamente, como realidades sociales, como hechos, ipero, cuando ο por qué deben seguir existiendo? ·—

2?i‫־‬ c !tt ‫כ‬

I

Ο

Sources: 1885: Rubin, M. Det mosaiske Troessamfund i Kjöbenhavn. 173-193 in Ved 150 Aars-Dagen for Anordningen af 29. Marts 1814 (1964). 1906: Cordt Trap: Jöderne i Köbenhavn efter‫־‬Folketaellingslisterneaf 1906, Nationalökonomisk Tidskrift 1907 vol 45, 156-197. 1931: Jörgensen, H. Colding: Jöderne i Danmark omkring 1931. Nationalökonomisk Tidskrift 1934, vol. 72, 330-345. 8 The picture is more mixed for professions, but rising as a whole from 1885 to 1931 (10,7% occupied in professions 1885, 15,4% in 1906 and 11,3% in 1931). Agriculture and farming played the same insignificant role in Denmark as in Sweden. 7 8

O h l s t r ö m 1959: 15-21. Between approximately 7 9 % and 9 0 % of the Jews in D e n m a r k lived during this period in Copenhagen. See D a n m a r k s Statistik: Tabelvaerk tit Köbenhavns statistik for tiden 1876—1919 and Statistiskc Opfysninger om Köbenhavn og Frtdriksberg.

In Christiania/Oslo in Norway we find the same principal development of a majority of Jews occupied in trade followed by declining numbers employed in this sector (74,3% in 1893 to 68,3% in 1930) and increasing numbers in industry and handicrafts (11,4% in 1893 to 14,6% in 1930). G R A P H y. T H E O C C U P A T I O N A L D I S T R I B U T I O N OF J E W S IN C H R I S T I A N I A / O S L O , NORWAY 1893-1930

• 1893 Π 1904 01920 • 1930

M

Μ

Trade and

FVofessrans and

Industry and

transportation

religion

handicrafts

Sources: Del Mosaiske Trossamfund (The Jewish Congregation in Oslo): Menighedsprotokol 1893-1930. Also from 1918-1930 Den Israelitiske Menighet i Oslo. The latter was a parallel, more orthodox congregation. The two congregations were merged in 1939. Both these sources are at the Jewish Congregation in Oslo, the archives of which were opened to me due to the kind help of Dagfinn Bernstein. 9

From traditional Jewish occupations to increased occupational diversification For Sweden, Denmark and Norway the decline of the gainfully occupied Jews in trade is stable, while the increase in industry and handicrafts is more unstable: Sweden has the most stable increase in industry, while Denmark and Norway show first a small decrease followed by an increase in 1930. The Danish industrial increase from 1906 to 1931 is very marked i. e. 20,6 percentage units. This

9

T h e majority of the Norwegian Jews lived during this period in Chrisriania/Oslo i. e. a bit lesser than two-thirds. See Koritzinsky, H M H. 1922. Jödemes Historie i Norge. 75-79. Also Statistisk Sentralbyrà and The National Archiver. Population Censuses for 1891, 1910, 1920, 1930.

mixed development has probably several reasons and cannot extensively be dealt with in this paper. But one obvious reason is surely the different pace of industrialization in each country, another reflects the fact that Danish and Norwegian Jews experienced a more lengthy shift from (declining) handicrafts to (increasing) industrial work than the Swedish Jews. The shift took place often within the same branch (for example tailors and shoemakers to workers in textile and leather factories). Within professions the picture is even more mixed with a slight increase for Denmark and Sweden up to 1930 and a strong increase in Norway up to 1930. These represent the younger generations with higher education careers mentioned above. O n e main common feature emerges in the Nordic countries: a development away from the one-sided dominance of trade (the "traditional" Jewish occupation) to a more comprehensive, diversified, occupational structure. Still, in 1930 trade occupies a larger share of the gainfully occupied Jewish population than that of the total population occupied in trade. 10 The Jews made use of the new economic possibilities, but they did it in their own way—according to their preferences and tradition of upward social mobility within trade and industry and higher education in the professions. As a matter of fact, we can already in 1915 see the beginning of the same development among the gainfully occupied Finnish Jews. This is obvious when the occupational structure of the Finnish Jews in 1898 is compared to that of 1915. Even if a great majority (77%) is occupied in trade, there is a discernible decrease (to 71%) and a small increase in industry and handicrafts from 17,4% in 1898 to 21% in 1915." Bear in mind, that this is still under Russian rule and before the emancipation. This strategy is not unknown in other European countries and can be observed for example among Austrian, Hungarian and German Jews, during the same period. 12

10

11

12

1930 gainfully occupied in trade: Sweden 15,5%, Denmark 4 % and Norway 7,2% of all the gainfully employed in each country. Sources: Sweden: Statens Officiella Statistik, Folkräkningen 1930. Denmark: Statistisk Aarbog 1935. Norway: Statistisk Arbok 1935. Even if the statistics differ a bit depending upon what is included, it still is way below that of the Jewish populations' share. T h e sources for this development are from the Finnish National Archives: Siviilitoimituskunnan arkisto H e 1, Juutalaisten maassa oleskelua koskevia asiakirjoja 1894—1915 and Heisingin Poliisilaitoksen arkisto. Passitoimisto. Luettelo Mooseksen uskolaisista 1877-1905. The numbers for 1898 are from Helsinki, the Jewish population being nearly 60% of the total. T h e numbers for 1915 are for the whole Jewish population in Finland. See Beller, S. 1989. Vienna and the Jews 1867-1938, 13, 90-103. Karady, V. 1984. Studies in Contemporary Jewry. E d . J . Frankel. 225-252, 240-241. Volkov, S. The "Verbürgelichung" of the Jews as a Paradigm in Bougeois Society in Nineteenth-Century Europe. 367—368.

C R E A T I N G J E W I S H SPACES IN E U R O P E A N C I T I E S A M N E S I A AND COLLECTIVE M E M O R Y DAVID CLARK University of North London, U K

T h e starting point for this paper is Robert Shields' notion of space myth (Shields 1991). According to Shields, the spatial is charged with emotional content, mythical meanings, community symbolism and historical significance. T h r o u g h a process of labelling certain sites and zones become associated with particular activities. This leads to the creation of space myths. Soon narratives emerge, narratives which not only attach themselves to specific places, but which also tend to become insider stories forming part of the symbolic construction of community. This paper explores the formation of space myths in relation to Jewish sites in E u r o p e a n cities. Specifically it examines how space myths and collective memory are interwoven in order to legitimate the kind of centre-margin relationships that are being forged. First, it examines how collective memory concerning Jewish sites had been repressed in the 1950s, leading to a deliberate collective amnesia in many European cities. Next it examines the revival of such space myths and collective memories in the 1980s and 1990s. T h e revival of such collective memory is linked to attempts by the centre, and the agencies of the state in particular, to "recolonise" the margins. Yet it is also linked to attempts by grass-roots movements to explore the culture-inbetween, as Bhabha denotes it, and so redefine the group's identity in terms other than those imposed by the centre (Bhabha 1996).

Collective Amnesia While collective memory is not altogether lost, it is highly selective, and certain acts of wilful amnesia take place. As Andreas Huyssen notes: " T h e difficulty of the current conjuncture is to think memory and amnesia together rather than simply to oppose t h e m " (Huyssen 1995: 7). Acts of collective remembrance did occur in the period immediately after the Second World War. Milton and Nowinski mention the "Mausoleum to Jewish Martyrdom" in the Milan municipal cemetery, erected in 1947 and the "Memorial of the U n k n o w n Jewish Martyr," erected in Paris in 1956. In Poland, memorials made f r o m fragments of tombstones began to appear at various derelict Jewish cemeteries. Gradually a number of memorials were established at various concentration camp sites, such as Buchenwald in 1958, Ravensbruck in 1959 and Sachsenhausen in 1961 ( Milton and Nowinski 1991). Nevertheless, for much of this period, collective amnesia seemed to be m u c h stronger than collective memory. Indeed, Sabine O f f e argues very con-

vincingly that while sites of commemoration were established on concentration camp sites, former Jewish residential areas in the midst of current urban life were made "invisible" through deliberate acts of urban planning (Offe 1997). Thus, O f f e cites the example of the state of Hesse, where, between 1945 and 1987, 63 synagogues were torn down or extensively "remodelled" for other uses. Hence, collective amnesia is not a simple matter of forgetting; it is something that has to be striven for, worked at, alongside other actions leading to remembrance. If we examine former Jewish sites in European cities, in the immediate postwar period, it soon becomes clear that a certain dilemma faced planners, city authorities and politicians alike. This dilemma consisted in what to do with the old buildings, mosdy in ruins, that were reminders of a former Jewish community, destroyed or uprooted by the Holocaust. The "Old Synagogue" in Essen, which started life in 1913 as the " N e w Synagogue," was badly damaged by fire on Kristallnacht in 1938, when hundreds of synagogues were burned and thousands of shops destroyed and looted. The synagogue remained in ruins until the municipality bought the building from the Jewish community in 1959. Despite various petitions from the local Jewish residents to turn the building into a community centre, the municipality decided to convert the building for its own uses. In the process the municipality obliterated all signs of the building's former use, removing the Torah niche on the eastern wall and constructing a low ceiling which hid the soaring cupola. The building was then used to house an exhibition on industrial design. Only after part of the exhibition was destroyed by fire in 1979 did the municipality have a change of heart. Other countries in Europe faced a similar dilemma in terms of what to do with buildings or sites that were reminders of a pre-war Jewish community. Although the municipality of Amsterdam had purchased the site of four synagogues in the heart of the old Jewish quarter in 1954, littie had been done for the next twenty years. The synagogues were hastily renovated and made usable, mainly for storage purposes by the municipality. There was littie attempt to maintain or restore any of the original features of these synagogues. Only after the mid-1970s, when the idea of establishing a Jewish museum on the site was approved, did plans take shape to restore some of the original features. It is very striking that the period from 1954 till 1974 witnessed similar acts of collective amnesia in the Netherlands as those I outlined for Germany. I am sure that the same phenomenon was repeated elsewhere in Europe, and even more strikingly so in countries under communist regimes. Under communism synagogues and Jewish community centres were generally taken over by the state and turned to secular use, as civic buildings, warehouses, cinemas and factories James Young discusses how the memorialisation of Buchenwald, in the German Democratic Republic, was cast in the light of the dominant communist view which emphasised the plight of political prisoners, especially communist prisoners, of all nationalities (Young 1993). The themes of internationalism and political persecution were also strongly portrayed in the Polish memorials of the

1950s and 1960s, while the specific targeting of Jews by the Nazi regime was downplayed or even ignored. O f course, acts of remembrance did take place under communist regimes as well, but these tended to be the exception rather than the rule. Nevertheless, the general response, both in the East and the West, was for a form of collective amnesia in the 1950s and 1960s, which sought to obliterate any painful reminders of the communities that were lost as a result of the Holocaust.

Reviving Old Memories: The Centre Rediscovers the Margin By the 1980s, however, there occurred a tremendous renewal of interest in sites of Jewish interest in Europe. Places and spaces associated with historical Jewish settlement suddenly took on a new meaning and significance. Collective memory was being revived, but it was being revived because of the needs of the "present," rather than simply being an innocent rediscovery of the past. The move to reconnect specific locations, buildings and spaces in the city with narratives associated with Jewish setdement is a result of a two-fold pressure. The most dominant pressure came from the "centre," from the agencies of the state. Yet there was also an under-current of pressure stemming from the "margins" themselves, from grass roots level, sometimes spurring the centre to take action, and sometimes acting in opposition to what was happening at the centre. O n e way of making sense of this transition from collective amnesia to collective memory is to place this phenomenon within the wider context of centremargin relationships. Cilly Kugelman outlines five distinct phases of (West) German-Jewish relations in the post-war period (Kugelman 1996). The immediate aftermath of the war and the experience of the Displaced Persons Camps are characterised as being a period of great uncertainty and ambivalence. Next came the period from around 1950 till the mid-1960s, when attempts were made to "normalise" relationships between the state and the Jewish community via the intermediary of "official" spokesmen for the Jewish community. Yet, there was a tacit agreement within the Jewish community to keep a low profile, to seek anonymity and invisibility. This is the period characterised above as one of collective amnesia. The early 1960s, with the Eichman trial, and the memorialisation of various concentration camps, brought the events of the Holocaust back into public debate. Yet, it was not till the late 1970s that this debate really reached all levels of society, particularly after the screening of the American TV series on the Holocaust, broadcast in Germany in 1978-79. This stimulated much local-level research on the fate of German Jews during the Nazi era and an interest in the history of local Jewish communities. Indeed, in the 1980s there was a sudden surge to open museums and to unveil monuments and plaques commemorating former Jewish communities. Kugelman also notes that this period coincided with the rise of a much more vocal and more "visible" Jewish community and Jewish leadership. This new leadership was much more ready to take to the public limelight and openly protest against public policies affecting the Jewish community.

The German Experience The "centre" actually invests financial resources to renovate, rebuild and refurbish buildings that had been hitherto neglected, defaced or virtually demolished, as well as setting up monuments and plaques on sites that were now considered to be of some significance in respect of a former Jewish population. Thus, the New Synagogue in Essen, built in 1913, partly destroyed in 1938, renovated in 1980 and re-opened as a museum on 9 th November 1980. The building was renamed the "Old Synagogue" and dedicated as a memorial site and documentation centre. Plans were set in motion to renovate the building to its former appearance as a synagogue and in 1986 the state administration (Land Nordrhein-Westfalen) donated sufficient funds for the work of reconstruction. T h e building now houses two permanent exhibitions, one on "Milestones in Jewish Life: from emancipation to the present day," and the other on "Persecudon and Resistance in Essen: 1933-1945." The initiative to renovate the former synagogue did not come from the Jewish community in Essen, but rather from the municipality. The funds for the building work were raised from the state of Nordrhein-Westfallen. The themes of the permanent exhibitions are placed in a very specific historic context, from the emancipation (beginning of the 19th century) to the present (with a specific focus on the Nazi era). Thus, the municipal authorities in charge of the museum have taken a very narrow and very specific view of what constitutes the historical narrative to be recounted in the museum.

The experience in Southern Europe The Museo Sefardi, in Toledo, now housed in a former synagogue, was established in 1964, with the aim, according to its constitution, of preserving, maintaining and testifying to Spanish-Hebraic culture. The museum is a state museum, under the aegis of the ministry of Education and Culture. The synagogue itself was substantially renovated between 1985 and 1994 and is located in the former Jewish quarter and well over 200,000 people annually visit the museum. The director of the museum notes that the main concerns of the central government, in funding the museum, are architectural heritage, historical and cultural heritage, local history and tourist development (Lopez Alvarez 1997). The renovation of part of the old Jewish quarter, including the synagogue, is clearly part of a strategy to enhance the tourist attraction of the area, in line with Spain's current emphasis on cultural tourism, as opposed to the massive investment in seaside resorts of the 1960s and 1970s. In Italy, since the late 1980s, many inidatives have taken place to safeguard or restore Jewish sites. This is as a result of legislation that mandated the state, at local and regional level, to take an acdve role in preserving and maintaining Italian Jewish heritage (Gruber 1998). In Bologna, a Jewish museum is to be located in a Renaissance palazzo in the heart of the old Jewish quarters, to be opened in 1999 and will be run by the civic authorities. The museum will be aimed mainly at a non-Jewish public and at tourists. Ruth Gruber writes: "Regional authorities in Emilia Romagna, working together with the small Jewish communities in several cities, have been at the forefront of efforts to bring

Jewish culture and heritage to light. These activities have included a detailed census of all items and sites of Jewish heritage in the region and initiating a project to revitalise Bologna's medieval ghetto neighbourhood" (Gruber 1998: 5). Thus, as in Spain, so too in Italy the need for tourist development and the revitalisation of older neighbourhoods, are key elements in driving local and regional government to "rediscover" its margins.

Polyvocality on the margins: the slow emergence of a Jewish voice Klaus N e u m a n n gives an account of events at Hildesheim (Neumann 1998). A small and very simple memorial was erected in 1948 at the site where the synagogue used to stand. In 1987 a much more elaborate monument was put in its place and officially unveiled in November 1988. The local Jewish community could not be represented at the time, as most of the remaining Jews had moved away by then. Yet, by February 1997 a new Jewish congregation was established in Hildesheim, consisting mainly of Jewish immigrants from the Ukraine and the former Soviet Union. From then on it would be the Jewish community w h o would be organising the annual memorial services at the site of the monument. This highlights some of the changes undergone by German Jewry over the post-war decades. I have already commented on the invisibility of the Jewish community in Germany in the 1950s; low numbers also contributed to a low profile. In Hildesheim the Jewish community dwindled from seventy families in the 1950s to only one resident in 1988 (Neumann 1998: 38). And yet, by 1997 a new Jewish population had arrived in Hildesheim and a new congregation established. There had been a steady trickle of Jewish immigration into Germany from the East and various flash points brought new waves of immigrants, from the 1950s onwards. But clearly, the demise of communism in the Soviet block after the events of 1989 accelerated this process. As a result, German Jewry has swelled in numbers and is now more "visible." This new-found visibility, however, is a complex phenomenon. A number of factors contribute to such visibility. As mentioned previously, a younger, postwar, generation has taken over prominent leadership positions within the community, a more vocal and more assertive leadership. There has also been the arrival of newer immigrants, swelling the numbers of the Jewish community. At the same time, the non-Jewish population in Germany is engaged in a wide spread debate concerning the Holocaust and what happened to German Jewry during the Nazi era. The state institutions are busy setting up and supporting memorial sites, museums and documentation centres. While there is much official interest in the history of the pre-war Jewish population, there is greater ambivalence towards the post-war Jewish community in Germany, espedaily towards the newer arrivals from the former Soviet block. Yet, some institutions in Germany are more pro-active than others. Thus, the Jewish Museum in Rendsburg is seeking closer co-operation with the Jewish community. Representatives of the Hamburg Jewish community are on the steering committee of the museum. Moreover, the museum has established

quite a few informal links with Jews in Rendsburg, Kiel, Lübeck and Hamburg, most of these Jews being emigrants from the former USSR (Dettmer 1997).

Polyvocality on the Margins: The Polish Case The interest in reviving memories of Jews in Poland came initially from nonJewish sections of the populations, especially young intellectuals. Krzyztof Gierat, a young Pole, organised a festival of Polish films on Jewish themes in 1986 and in 1988 organised the first Festival of Jewish Culture in Krakow (Gruber 1996). A second such festival was so successful that it has become a very popular annual event. The festival takes place in the Kazimierz district of Krakow, the old Jewish quarter, which still contains seven synagogues and other buildings associated with the Jewish setdement in the city. The festival features exhibitions, theatre performances, lectures, films, workshops, and concerts. Many of the participating artists are Jews brought in from other parts of Europe and America, as well as Polish artists and performers. The emergence of polyvocality in Poland is quite an extraordinary and at the same time complex phenomenon. In the mid to late 1980s, espousal of interest in Jewish themes under a communist regime was also an act of defiance of some sort, of attempting to redefine Polishness in terms other than those laid down by the centre. Since the fall of communism, an interest in Jewish themes still represents an attempt to redefine Polishness in the new context, but in a situation in which possibilities and horizons are much more wide-open. O f particular significance here, though, is the opportunity the Kazimierz festival of Jewish culture affords Polish Jews to rediscover, retrace and'redefine their own Jewish culture and Jewish identity. The Kazimierz festival of Jewish culture is a venue, a space, in which both Jews and non-Jews, can explore together what being Jewish might mean, and what implication this might have for their own personal identity. It may well be that what is being explored here is the "culture-in-between" described by Homi Bhabha. He writes: " the hybrid strategy or discourse opens up a space of negotiation where power is unequal but its articulation may be equivocal. Such negotiation is neither assimilation nor collaboration... They deploy the partial culture from which they emerge to construct visions of community, and versions of historic memory, that give narrative form to the minority positions they occupy; the outside of the inside; the part in the whole" (Bhabha 1996: 58).

Polyvocality on the Margins: the French Case The Rue des Rosiers area in Paris was known as a Jewish area already in the Middle Ages, but a series of expulsions left a long period of Jewish absence, till the 19th century, when Jews began to return to Paris in ever larger numbers. At first Jews came from Alsace and other parts of France, but towards the end of the century increasing numbers were coming from Poland and Russia. By the mid-19 t h century, Jewish schools, orphanages and synagogues were built in the area, reinforcing the Jewish character of the area.

Low rents continued to attract further newcomers in the 20 th century, but the German occupation of Paris led to the deportation of most of the Jewish residents in the area. After the war, some of the former residents returned to live in the area, but it was a dwindling community. The Ashkenasi population, many of them originally from Poland, gradually moved out, and in 1963 sold the synagogue at number 17 Rue des Rosiers to the Lubavitch Hassidic movement. But by the late 1950s and early 1960s it was mainly the Sephardi population f r o m North Africa that was moving into the area, fleeing uncertainty and political unrest in North Africa and seeking refuge in the midst of a well-known Jewish quarter which also offered cheap housing (Brody 1995). In the 1990s, the Jewish character of the Rue des Rosiers area is still unmistakable. The area itself attracts other Jews, from other parts of town w h o come to shop and eat in the Kosher restaurants. Jewish tourists also drop in to soak in the atmosphere, to shop, enjoy Jewish cuisine, see an exhibition by an Israeli artist, or learn about the particular history of this particular corner of Paris. It is an area where you can come in order to participate in and identify with a Jewish way of life, whether you be Ashkenasi or Sephardi, religious or secular. The Rue des Rosiers area attracts a stream of visitors, Jews and non-Jews, w h o come to it to recapture a brief vision of what has been lost elsewhere. They come to gaze upon a live Jewish community, a Jewish community that is not ashamed of parading its Jewishness for all to see.

Conclusion Collective memory is of necessity selective, but I have sought to argue that such selectivity is based on conflicts and power relationships that pertain to the prèsent rather than the past. The focus for this paper has been spatial narratives that have become associated with the built-environment and have become enmeshed with collective memory. A key feature of such space narratives is the way in which they reflect centre-margin relationships. I outlined first of all a period of collective amnesia, from the 1950s till the 1960s, in which many Jewish communities in Europe sought to keep a low profile. Official policy at that time generally sought to deny or "forget" any spatial narrative that specifically linked certain buildings or sites to former Jewish setdement in the area. Yet, by the mid-to-late 1970s, renewed interest in Jewish buildings, Jewish sites and all aspects of Jewish culture had swept across many parts of Europe. This trend gathered even more m o m e n t u m in the 1980s and 1990s. T o begin with it was particularly the centre that took an active interest in such spatial narratives and sought to revive such narratives by rebuilding and renovating old synagogues and Jewish communal buildings. In Germany, guilt over the Holocaust was an important motivating factor. Elsewhere, the promotion of cultural tourism and the attempt to rejuvenate inner city areas by transforming medieval or renaissance sites into tourist attractions, provided an important impetus to reviving Jewish spatial narratives.

Yet, invariably, the narratives of spaces on the margins are contested narradves. Indeed, it is doubtful whether German municipalities, state and federal governments would have taken such an active interest in Jewish sites and Jewish narrarives in the 1980s and 1990s if there had not been a groundswell of interest at the grass root level at the time. In Kazimierz, the Jewish quarter of Krakow, non-Jewish Poles initiated a move to revive a specifically Jewish narrative in the area by introducing a Jewish cultural festival. In Paris, the Rue des Rosiers area has become an area for competing narratives involving at least two centuries of successive waves of Jewish immigrants. At each stage there has been a contest for supremacy in the area, with conflicts and tensions between the various groups. And yet, in each case there has also been a blending together, to produce a new space narrative and space myth, in order to retain a vital and vibrant identity on the margins, an identity which truly represents the "culture-in-between." While this paper has ranged widely over different countries in Europe, over different phases of the post-war period, I have sought to illustrate the manner in which collective memory and space narratives essentially reflect the nature of centre-margin relationships at the time.

References Bhabha, H. 1996. "Culture's In-Between." In Questions of Cultural Identity. Ed. S. Hall and P. du Gay. London: Sage Publications, 53—60. Brody, J. 1995. Rue des Rosiers: une maniéré d'étrefuif. Paris: les Editions Autrement. Deitmer, F. 1997. Scientific Officer, Jewish Museum in Rendsburg, letter to the author, dated 12.6.1997.

Gruber, E. R. 1996. Filling the Jewish Space in Europe. New York: The American Jewish Committee. , 1998. "Museum provides Bologna with gateway to Judaism." The Jewish Chronicle , April 3, 5. Huyssen, A. 1995. Twilight Memories. London: Routledge Kugelmann, C. 1996. "Das Judische Museum als Exponat der Zeitgeschichte." In Wiener

Jahrbuch fur Jüdische Geschichte, Kultur und Museums Wesen. Band 2. 1995/1996 , Vienna: Verlag Christian Brandstatter, 43-77.

Milton, S. and Nowinski, I. 1991. In Fitting Memory: The Art and Politics of Holocaust Memorials. Detroit: Wayne State University Press. Neumann, K. 1998. "Cropped Images." In Humanities Research. 1. Canberra: T h e Humanities Research Centre, Australian National University. Offe, S. 1997. "Sites of Remembrance? Jewish Museums in Contemporary Germany."

Jewish Social Studies, 3, 2, 77-89. Reuter, F. 1992. "Jewish Worms: Rashi House and Judengasse." Taken from an original

article published in Der Wormsgau, Wtssenschajliche Zeitschrift der Stadt Worms, 15, 1987/91, repr. in 1992 with the support of the Altertumsvereins W o r m s e.V., Worms. Shields, R. 1991. Places on the Margin. London: Routledge.

Young, J. 1993. The Texture of Memory: Holocaust Memorials and Meaning, New Haven: Yale University Press.

Music

AND T H E R E / C O N S T R U C T I O N

OF 20 TH C E N T U R Y IBERIAN C R Y P T O - J E W I S H IDENTITY JUDITH R . COHEN Toronto, Canada In the early 1920's, the Polish Ashkenazi engineer Samuel Schwarz published a book on the hidden Jews of Belmonte in Portugal, and shortly afterwards Captain Arturo de Barros Basto began his "rescue operation" or "obra de resgate," setting in motion a series of events which changed their lives dramatically. Since that time, interest in the Crypto-Jews has waxed and waned, but over the latter decades of the 20 th century, pardy as a result of political changes in both Spain and Portugal, and the expulsion quincentennials of 1992 and 1997, it has escalated sharply. There are indeed Iberian people w h o have maintained, throughout the centuries and generations, at least some identification and vestigial Jewish practices or family memories of them; and there are, of course, concrete remnants of Jewish neighbourhoods and buildings scattered over the peninsula. But there are also imagined communities, 1 people and areas identified as Jewish or Crypto-Jewish for other reasons; sometimes sincere wishful thinking, at other times for religious purposes, and, increasingly, related to the perception of commercial possibilities of tourism aimed at the "discerning traveller." Tours are set up to visit Crypto-Jewish towns and O J Q ' s (old Jewish quarters), and festivals have sprung up, proclaiming themselves survivals of a Jewish p a s t — o r even if they do not proclaim themselves as such, popular perception often does it for them. F o r the anthropologist and ethnomusicologist, aside from its obvious relationship to the rather overworked preoccupation with the " O t h e r , " this develo p m e n t offers a fertile opportunity to explore the issue of imagined communities, the anthropology of tourism and festivals, musical appropriation and what Rene Lysloff has referred to as "plunderphonics." Here, I propose to focus o n musical aspects: the use of music as an identity marker in both "authentic" and imagined Crypto-Jewish communities and events in Spain and Portugal. My observations are based o n two years of fieldwork in historically Crypto-Jewish areas along the Portuguese-Spanish border. 2

This term is adapted from Benedict Anderson's pioneering use of it; see Anderson 1983/1991. This work was made possible by research grants from York University and from the Social Sciences and Humanides Research Council of Canada which I gratefully acknowledge. Fieldwork was often carried out with the help of my research assistant and collaborator, J o s e - R a m o n Aparicio, in Galicia, and of my daughter, Tamar liana Cohen Adams.

Fieldwork approaches In my years of fieldwork among Sephardim in several countries, idendficadon has been the easy part. Working with Crypto-Jews is a different story: for obvious reasons, sauntering into the main bar or square of a village and calling out, "will all the hidden Jews please come out and be taped?" is not a viable strategy. Even when identification is not the main problem, some people don't want to be interviewed about Crypto-Jewish traditions; others object to being taperecorded. While there is no longer the overt danger of the Inquisition, secrecy has been built into Crypto-Judaism. Even the most well-meaning ethnographer and tourist, myself included, can be seen, if not as an actual threat, then at least as a nuisance—oxymoronically, as a benevolent (one hopes) end-product of the Inquisition. In the small villages, people sometimes identify themselves as "Judeu," usually not at the first meeting, and have tended to be more open to being taped, sometimes even enthusiastically. Other people might say that Jews "used to live here but not now." In most cases, however, these same people don't mind responding to the same general ethnomusicological questionnaire we've developed for everyone, whether or not they have Jewish origins: musical preferences, musical occasions, local repertoire and so. We also ask about Jewishrelated tradidons by embedding questions into a more general frame-work, songs of or about "other" groups, mule-drivers (often associated with Jews), contrabandistas (same thing, not so different from the Canadian Jewish bootiegging activities!), "mouros," or "ciganos." For musicians in imagined communities, the questionnaire includes selection of repertoire, song arrangements, the role of the group leader, and any perceived relation of Judeo-Spanish songs to local tradition.

The Repertoire What emerges from these two years are several levels of musical life and repertoires. For the musical life of imagined communities, what is specifically Jewish, as far as I can see, is all from outside, though as time goes on, it tends to acquire a mythological community ancestry. I will focus on (I) the "real" Portuguese Crypto-Jewish communities, summarizing the levels of musical life and briefly discussing their possible origins and their functions as identity markers for peopie both inside and outside the communities. Then I will briefly explain (II) the use of Sephardic music in two imagined community festivals on the Spanish side of the border. T H E REAL

C R Y P T O - J E W I S H REPERTOIRE, IN P O R T U G A L

A. "INDIGENOUS," mosdy recited, rather than sung, prayers and Biblical ballads B . J E W I S H IMPARTED / ACQUIRED SONGS

1. early 20h century, auto-identified as traditional a) Judah and Tamar b) ]udeo-Spanish ("Ladino") and Hebrew songs; Hatikvab 2. later 20h century

C . S H A R E D LOCAL R E P E R T O I R E

1. considered Jewish by Jews 2. considered Jewish by non-Jews 3. general repertoire D . M U S I C A L PREFERENCES

Before discussing musical repertoire, a little information about Captain Arturo de Barros Basto is in order. He was a charismatic figure born into a CryptoJewish family from the Porto area in the late 19th century. After founding his own religion, "Oryamism", he eventually converted to formal Judaism, and devoted all his spare time to what he called the "obra de resgate," the "rescue mission"—identifying Crypto-Jews in remote areas of the country and "bringing them back to the fold"; he also set up a Yeshiva and was the moving force behind the establishment of the Porto synagogue. His is a fascinating story, but time does not permit me to discuss more of it than its musical implications here.

A. "Indigenous " repertoire The prayer texts and Biblical ballads which appear to be the oldest part of the Crypto-Jewish repertoire are now mosdy recited rather than sung, and are mosdy performed and transmitted by the women, w h o also are in charge of much of ritual life. The Biblical ballad texts have been printed several times, and consitute Amilcar Paulo's Romanceiro Criptojudaico (1969). The problems surrounding the origins of the prayers have been discussed at length by specialists with more experience than I have with Inquisition records and other archival sources (da Costa Fontes, Gitlitz). The prayer texts themselves have been available in print for much of this century, often through Schwarz's book (see also Canelo, Garcia, da Costa Fontes), which some women use as a source. The Biblical ballads, not surprisingly, recount situations of danger, rescue and faith: "Jonah and the Whale," "The Sacrifice of Isaac," "Daniel and the Lions." Recitarions are done quickly and quiedy—there are obvious historical reasons for speed and sonic discretion The ballad which is still actually sung, at Passover, is "The Crossing of the Red Sea." It appears, with a musical transcription, as far back as Schwarz's book, with the same tune as the current one (Schwarz 1925: 93—4). I was somewhat bemused to read Schwarz's description of the melody as "oriental and exotic" and that it "therefore dates back to very early times" (46-7). Schwarz was a highly educated Polish Ashkenazi Jew, from a highly-educated family; his identification of "oriental" with early Iberian Jewish life is easily understandable, especially in the context of late 19 th -early 20 th century Romanticism. But why would he characterize this rather pedestrian melody as "oriental" or "exotic"? Portuguese people of any socio-economic level we hummed it to immediately characterized it as "a march." N o one could give it a specific name, though a similarity was suggested between one section of the song and the well-known

mid—19th century revolutionary hymn Maria da Fonte3 which in fact Barros Basto was fond of singing (Jean-Jarval 1929: 60). We perceived only a vague resemblance, but perhaps Crypto-Jewish women associate "Maria" — f o r Myriam—in the Red Sea ballad with Maria da Fonte, another strong woman in the role of rescuer. 4 I can see two main reasons for for Schwarz's "oriental" characterization. One is that when he met the Crypto-Jews in 1917, they may have sung it differendy from the way they sing it today. In my field recordings, and those I have heard from the 1980's5 and in the film The Last Marranos (Brenner et al) and in an Israeli video (Lossin), it is sung in a straightforward style, with a steady rhythm. Perhaps in Schwarz's time it was sung in a more rubato, more ornamented style which inspired his description? I find this somewhat unlikely, as at that time they were even more "secret" than now and likely used the quick, discreet style of the prayers—still, it's possible. Or else, this orientalism reflected Schwarz's own reception of the song, and an example of wishful thinking: for romantic or funding-related reasons, or both, he wanted to identify it as a survival of pre-Expulsion or at least cercaInquisition times. At any rate, the song has become an identity marker of the Crypto-Jews of Belmonte (I haven't heard it anywhere else). The Lossin film uses it as a musical leitmotif, played romantically on a shepherd's flute (khalil) and other instruments at strategic moments. I have often heard it sung quiedy, as a prayer, by different individuals or small family groups. At the 1998 seder at the new synagogue in Belmonte, it was sung collectively and loudly by several community members present. Musically, the question is: when did this particular melody become associated with the ballad: presumably sometime between the mid-late 19th century and the time Schwarz first heard it around 1917? And how? This question about melody acquisition/appropriation forms a bridge to the next section:

B. Jewish imparted I acquired songs ι. Early 20h-century,

auto-identified

as

traditional

Going doggedly through its thirty years of Ha-Lapid, the newsletter Barros Basto founded, edited and distributed to "his" Jewish communities, I found numerous musical references, including nodces of books received, of Lisbon recitals by a Moroccan Sephardic woman musician; and of visits from various rabbis from different countries. In Sous le charme du Portugal by Lily Jean Jarval, a French Jewish journalist who accompanied the Captain on some of his trips to Crypto-Jewish villages, the author,, apparendy more "sous le charme du Capitaine" than "le charme du Portugal", describes him, with his "Napoleonic pro3

4

5

Conversation with Maria-Antonieta Garcia, author of Os Judeus de Belmonte, at her home in Fundào, near Belmonte, N o v e m b e r 1996. The use of local patriotic hymn tunes for religious contrafacta in Jewish culture was commented on during this same EAJS congress by my colleague, Edwin Seroussi (1998). I would like to express my deepest thanks to Professor Simha Arom and to Inacio Steinhart for their generosity in sending me copies of recordings from their field coUecdons.

file," reciting medieval Galician-Portuguese poetry, and singing everything from tango to Portuguese regional songs, including improvised desaßo's. His daughter also described his wide musical interestsat musical soirees in his home, his wife or son would play piano while he sang everything from the repertoire already described to Gounod's Ave Maria.6 a) Judah and Tamar There is one narrative ballad identified by Belmonte Jews as "ours", and recorded by Amilcar Paulo among Jews in the Bragança area as well; it is sung at weddings and around Purim. While those who know it will say it has "always" been around, neither the text nor the music seems very "old." Barros Basto published the text in the 1920's, in Ha-Lapid with a note about "Black Judah the medieval troubadour of Ceuta" in a different issue. The story, in simple rhymed couplets, tells of Judah the impoverished troubadour and the lovely, wealthy Tamar; Judah serenades her beneath her window, the father refuses permission (we don't hear about the mother), Tamar runs off with Judah at night to the head rabbi Eliezar (there was one of that name in pre-Expulsion Lisbon); the latter persuades the father to give them his blessing. The melody is a simple dance tune, to which a refrain has been added. Interestingly, the tune is N O T from either the Belmonte or the Bragança area, but rather from the region where Barros Basto spent his adult life, the Minho. It sounds familiar to everyone there, and every specialist in Portuguese folk music we've talked to can "almost" identify it, but not quite; still, they agree that whatever else it is, it's not from either the Belmonte or the Tras-os-Montes areas where it's sung. While the Belmonte woman who first sang it for me said the song has "always" been in her family, her sister told us it was "brought from Porto": that their father, then the area's mailman, had "received" it from there. This could mean someone from Porto taught it to him or perhaps that the words came in Ha-Lapid. Could it have been introduced or even composed by Barros Basto? It has a Porto-area tune, has been described as coming from Porto, its text appears in Ha-Lapid, while Barros Basto had a solid knowledge of history, wide musical tastes and a knack for singing desafios and composing contrafacta. Whoever introduced it, the song has become for the Crypto—Jews in Belmonte a symbol of their identity. b) "Ladino " and Hebrew There have been confusing reports about "Ladino" songs and Hebrew prayers among Portuguese Crypto-Jews, leading to speculation about their survival from pre-Expulsion times. A Portuguese translation of Hatikvah also dates to this time period, but there is not much mystery about its presence. A 1970's thesis from South Africa includes transcriptions of several songs in Judeo-Spanish and Hebrew which the author says she collected in Portugal before the 1974 Revolution. She doesn't identify the songs in Judeo-Spanish as what they are: relatively recent lyric compositions of the eastern Judeo-Spanish 6

Conversations with Myriam Azancot, Porto, Portugal, May 1997 and September 1998.

tradition. I have been able to trace most of the people she lists as "informants". Many have died, and memories of her are sparse when they exist at all. O n e woman she cites as singing "Ladino" songs told me she couldn't remember having sung anything but local songs at any time in her life, including whatever she learned in a choir directed by a local woman who had studied piano for years in Lisbon. This now elderly woman, however, told me she had only spent a short time in Lisbon, and none of the songs was at all familiar to her. 7 O f the Miranda/Bragança area people, most had died, but I found the men's names in lists of students who attended Barros Basto's Yeshiva. So, the songs would appear to be, rather than vesdges of pre-Expulsion days, vestiges of the early decades of the 20 th century—interesting, of course, in itself, and a possible example of re-appropriation, conscious or otherwise. O n the cassette which forms part of the thesis, 8 the few Judeo-Spanish songs included are performed by a Bosnian rabbi instead of by the "informants"; in fact, none of the recorded exampies seems to be from her actual fieldwork, so it is difficult to say anything more detailed about them. A journalist in Guarda, near Belmonte, informed me that he himself belongs to an old Crypto-Jewish family and that in Guarda there is a "community" which continues to pray and sing in Hebrew and "Ladino," learned from the Yeshiva in Porto. However, although he initially agreed to take me to visit members of this group and Yeshiva descendants in certain villages, he has been consistendy unavailable, apparendy for other visitors as well.

2. Later 20'h century Jewish imparted/acquired songs Since 1990, Belmonte has had two rabbi's and one young shokhet who performed some of a rabbi's functions, resident in the town, and a lot of Jewish visitors from abroad. Their reception of liturgical melodies and Israeli songs constitutes this part of their musical life. We were astonished to hear of a woman in a nearby village who sang "real Crypto-Jewish songs"; we interviewed her and were treated to her version of "Eretz" classics (Hinei ma tov, Ushavte mayim, etc.). I learned in Jewish summer camp in the 1960's. Herself a practicing Catholic, she had learned them from rabbis and visitors while working in Belmonte over the years, and had taught them to the women's singing group she directs. The most recent acquisitions in the local Jewish repertoire concern Belmonte and the immediate area only (aside from the mainstream Jewish community in Lisbon and the small synagogue of Porto): they are from the rabbis and other recent visitors. Few people are able to lead a service or even participate fully; and of course different visitors have brought different melodies. The popular Judeo-Spanish song Cuando el rej Nimrod has entered musical life in 7 8

Conversations, Lisbon 1997 and 1998, Castelo de Vide 1998. As well, at least two examples are taken from pre-existent recordings and incorrecdy attributed; one appears to be sung by the author herself. This is pointed out as a caution against taking undocumented material literally and assuming song origins where they do not in fact exist. T h e author died around the time I first came across her thesis; her husband kindly sent m e a copy of the cassette and is not himself aware of or responsible for its inconsistencies.

Belmonte both as a melody for Hebrew texts and as a song in its own right, in a Portuguese translation by the rabbi there in 1990-1992. Other Israeli songs and the "Ya'asaeh Shalom" popularized in many parts of the Jewish world have been absorbed. The song repertoire also depends on visitors, of course: for example, they didn't know any Passover songs. I confess to ethnographic interference; I have given a few informal concerts of Sephardic and related songs, and taught them the Passover cumulative song "Had Gadya" in a Moroccan JudeoSpanish version, which they automatically translated into Portuguese. 9

C. Shared local repertoire ι. Seen as "Jewish " by Jews In Belmonte, self-identified Jews may say they don't sing the songs of the "goios," but in fact I've recorded a similar repertoire among "Judeus" as among those with no known (or admitted) Jewish origins. In fact, at the Passover picnic in 1998, one of the men played harmonica and the first tune he offered, although nobody sang the words, I instandy identified as a song for the feast of the Virgen in a nearby village. They were so amused at my ability to identify it that I wondered whether the choice of melody had been a joke, inspired by my presence. Women at the picnic also told me that they sometimes composed satirical contrafact texts using local melodies, but wouldn't sing any of these for me. In the summer of 1997, some Belmonte women referred to certain jogos de roda as "ours" and others as "not ours." So far, I haven't been able to identify any pattern or anything in the texts or melodies, to explain this identification; I have found the same ones known to people of the same generation all around the area. But the jogos themselves were, until recendy, part of the Passover picnie. They have traditionally been done by adults as well as children, but have fallen into disuse in much of the country, not only among the Jews. In the 1920's, Jews of Bragança in Tras-os-Montes are described singing and dancing a jogo de roda with new words, " E mais um hebreu/que na roda entrou" (Vasconcelos 1958: 173). I identified it as a contrafact of a well-known jogo de roda, "e mais um cravo," ("mais um cavaleiro," "e mais um pandeiro," "mais uma rosa" if a woman, etc.). T o me, the use of this particular jogo de roda, and perhaps of jogos de roda in general, especially at the Belmonte Passover picnics, suggested an identification, whether conscious or unconscious, of a circle of safety to which one Crypto-Jew, and another and yet another, "mais um, mais uma," enters.

2. Seen as Jewish by many non-Jews There are two ritual songs to which some people attribute Jewish origins. O n e is the Encomendaçào das Almas, a song for the departed souls, part of village Easter ritual, and the other is the "Twelve words, or two tablets of Moses." Neither can be sung inside the church, only outside it. The second is a cumulative chant, Their quick absorption of the song was undoubtedly facilitated by the existence of a Portuguese folksong almost idenrical to it (Barros Basto 1926).

known as Las doce palabras ditasj retomeadas, sometimes with its refrain only sung (see Espinosa). In Spain it's used as a Christmas song, but in Portugal often as a deathbed ritual. It's very similar to the Passover cumulative song Ekhad mijodea, but mixes Christian and Old Testament imagery. In the villages, both or one of these may be attributed to Jews, but not usually BY the Jews themselves. By extension, songs from an area idenufied with Jewish history may be considered "Jewish," as was the case with two young tradidonal musicians from a village near Miranda do Douro, idenufied all the songs in an anthology from nearby Sendim as "Jewish." They also produced the mystifying statement that local singing in parallel thirds has a "distincdy Jewish (synagogal) flavour" and originates from Jewish refugees in the Miranda area; and that they "christianized" their Hebrew songs into the Encomendaçào das almas, as well as lullabies, love songs, work songs, pastoral songs and satirical songs—i.e. the entire traditional repertoire! (Topa 1998: 91). In a similar vein, at least one Ashkenazi group I have met, in an American city with a large Portuguese population, is convinced that Ε ado is of Jewish origin because it is Portuguese and because it is associated with nostalgia and melancholy.

Shared repertoire not identified as Jewish This varied, but by and large the Judeus seemed to have a similar range of repertoire as their neighbours.

D. Musical Preferences In Tras-os-Montes, people often characterized Jews as preferring lyric, romantic songs, sometimes distinguishing the "Judeus" from the "lavradores," the farmworkers. Jews, they said, prefer string to percussion instruments, and favour romantic love songs over work-related songs. In both Bragança and the Mogadouro area we were told that the "Judeus" were more lively, liked happy songs and were the first to start them off, during Carnaval and other times, contrary to the stereotype of the "melancholy" image mentioned earlier. In both Tras-osMontes and the Belmonte area, people of Jewish descent as well as those who weren't talked of having sung and played the jogos de roda. Besides the Judeu/Lavradores preferences, Judeus often indicated the fado as a preference—this appreciation was shared with the population at large, though they didn't always mean the same fado.w Among those Crypto-Jews who had formally converted to Judaism and were affiliated with the new synagogue, "anything Jewish" was often stated as a preference. Some women shared a local fondness for the broadside ballads which used to be circulated by the cego's, itinerant blind singers, or by mule-drivers. In fact, as far as I could see, even when Judeus profess not to have anything to do with songs of the local "goios," they seem to have the same appreciation for local music events such as a rancho open-air performance.

10

O f t e n they specified Coimbra fado, in others the rural fado, which is very different f r o m that of the clubs in Lisbon.

The

"imaginedcommunities"

My main focus for this section is the Testa da Istoria in Ribadavia, in Galicia. I have discussed Ribadavia's case in more detail elsewhere (Cohen 1996; forthcoming), so will be very brief here. Today's Testa traces its origins to an annual event which took place from the late 17th through the mid-19th centuries, and which seems to have involved a street festival and performances of plays with Old Testament themes; it may well have been of converso origin. In the m i d 1980's, this Istoria was re-invented, and given a medieval fair atmosphere in Ribadavia's picturesque streets. Later, they added a "Sefardi wedding." As the tourist involvement (and income) grew, and Ribadavia became part of the Caminos de Sefarad, a "Coordinadora," or organizing committee, was established, which is now taking formal steps to form the Fundacion Festa da Istoria. The event has become an odd combination of a North American-style pseudo-medieval festival and an object of quasi-veneration to many people who believe it is a "real" medieval Sephardic festival rising phoenix-like from the ashes of centuries—even with its pork sausages for sale under a huge Maguen David banner. Local villagers have told me the Ribadavians "must be real Jews" because they make so much money at it, so it has actually ended up reinforcing negative stereotypes. Meanwhile, the small Porto Jewish community has taken to bringing a Sefer Torah and conducting a Friday night service in the former Church of the Madalena, with a concluding mini-concert by the Ribadavia singing group—an event enthusiastically attended by tourists and, of course, the media—so that the church has become both de-sacralized and re-sacralized, in MacCannell's anthropology of tourism terminology, and the boundary between religious observance and performance has become blurred. Ribadavia did indeed have a Jewish population, a very active one, before the expulsion; and the area maintains considerable tradition of people who are descended from Jews. But no one, to my knowledge, is seeking to formally regain Jewish identity or even say they are Jewish. The same is true of Hervás, which now holds a "Jewish festival," in which residents of the O J Q (Old Jewish Quarter) wear "medieval Jewish clothes" and the local folk music ensemble performs Judeo-Spanish songs learned from various CD's. The "Hotel Sinagoga" has a billboard at the town entrance, and there is an Inquisition comic book for sale at the tourist office. A local "taverna" has added a Maguen David, paraleling Ribadavia's "Bar Ο Judeu" ("The Jew Bar"). Here and elsewhere, it is as if the buildings have not only become sacralized, but have taken the place of peopie, a Sites-R-Us community of stone instead of souls. But to return to music: in Hervás, the local traditional ensemble has learned several of their Judeo-Spanish songs from commercially available recordings; these songs have somehow become associated with their own "heritage." 11 In 11

Ironically, both the Hervás and the Ribadavia singing groups learned many songs f r o m my own recordings with the Canadian Sephardic ensemble Gtrine/do, though at the time they didn't know w h o I was. In 1998 my daughter and I sang one song during their performance at the festival, and a photograph of us appeared in a national Spanish newspaper identifying us as residents of Hervás' O J Q , though I had taken pains to tell the photographer we were Canadian!

Ribadavia, oddly enough, Gerine/do's CD's also played an important role in the acquisition of song repertoire, supplemented by Gloria Levy's 1950's recording of popular Judeo-Spanish songs from the eastern lyric repertoire, and later by Flory Jagoda's compositions. T o my surprise, when I asked the women why they had made certain melodic changes in a song they'd learned from Gerineldo, the answer was, "oh, we've ALWAYS sung it that way" While "always" is a reasonable extrapolation from a traditional village with two short generations of women, as in Belmonte; it is quite another proposition in a group which had learned their repertoire from CDs purchased at the Corte Inglés two years earlier! Over a very short time, the songs became internalized as part of " o u r " repertoire, to the point where the answer they gave me became possible, with no sense of incongruity on their part. This appropriation of the repertoire is not a deliberate misleading action on their part: they've always sung, they've always known that the O J Q is the OJQ, and learning Sephardic songs is just another, perfecdy logical aspect of it for them. So, we are left: with real communities; imagined aspects of real communities; individuals and groups who have not "come out" so cannot be studied; buildings almost anthropomorsized; other buildings given a Jewish status they may not have had, and imagined communities to inhabit these buildings and sing songs which are then imagined to go back to their imagined roots. O n e may treat these developments as falsifications, or misleading at best; or, one may retort that in the case of Crypto-Jews or even towns and villages of known Jewish history, it is simply a question of re-appropriation of part of their own culture they happened to miss out on for five centuries; or, one may adopt the determinedly neutral standpoint of postmodernist anthropology, finding along with Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Bendix, Stoeltje and others that it's just a new tradition, a new, valid creative expression. Some of my colleagues here in Spain, notably Josep Marti in Catalunya, have carried out studies of folklorized festivais, invented traditional festivals and so on. But in this case, perhaps the difference is mis-representing a tragic part of history and not so much reducing it to folklore as reducing it to a folklore which wasn't even its own; turning a tragic stage of history into a tourist event. And, people are, if not claiming to be, then being told they are, who they are not. In both cases, the "real" and "imagined" communities, music is used as part of the process of harnessing and re-shaping the memory of who they were—or who they might have been—or who one would like them to have been—or who they think others might like them to have been. Music whose history is unknown to many of the protagonists has become part of rewriting a popular version of Iberian Jewish history.

Sources cited Anderson, Β. 1983, 1991. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread o/Nationalism. Verso. Azancot, M. 1997, 1998. Interviews, Oporto. Basto, A. de Barros 1926. Η'ad Gadiah, Influênaas hebráicas no folclore portugûes. Porto: Insrituto Teologico Israelita. Brenner, F., Neumann, S., Steinhart, I. 1990. Les Derniers Marranes (vidéocassette). France, SEPT-Télévision. Canelo, D. A. 1985. Os Ultimos Judeus Secretos. Belmonte: Jornal de Belmonte. , 1996. Ο Resgate dos Marranes Portugueses. Belmonte: David Augusto Canelo. Cohen, J. 1996. "Bringing it All Back Home: Sephardic Re-Creation in a Galician T o w n . " D0naire 6, 98-106. , forthcoming. " 'We've always Sung it that Way!': Re/Appropriarion of Medieval Spanish Jewish Culture in a Galician T o w n . " In Charting Memory: Recalling Medieval Spain, special issue of Hispanic Issues. Ed. S. Beckwith. da Costa Fontes, M. 1990-93. "Four Portuguese Crypto-Jewish Prayers and their 'Inquisitorial' Counterparts." Mediterranean Language Review 6—7, 67—104. Espinosa, A. 1930. "Origen oriental y desarollo histôrico del cuento de las doce palabras retorneadas." Revista de Filologia Espanola 17, 390—413. Garcia, M. A. 1993. Os Judeus de belmonte. Lisbon: Universidade Nova. Gitlitz, D. 1996. Secrecy and Deceit, the Religion of the Crypto-Jews. Philadelphia: Jewish Publicadon Society. Ha-Lapid, monthly (irregular) publicadon. Ed. A. de Barros Bastos (Oporto) 1928-58. Jean-Jarval, L. 1929. " E m Bragança, entre os Marranos." Ha-Lapid 2 4 / 4 , 1—4. , 1929. Sous le charme du Portugal. Paris. Lysloff, R. T. A. 1997. "Mozart in Mirrorshades: Ethnomusicology, Technology and the Politics of Representation." Ethnomusicology 41 / 2 , 206-219. Lossin, Y. (dir.) 1992. Out of Spain 1492 (Belmonte 1-2) (vidéocassette). Jerusalem: Israel Broadcasting Authority. MacCannell, D. 1976. The Tourist, a New Theory of the Leisure Class. New York: Schocken. Marti, J. 1996. ElFolklorismo, usoy abuso de la tradiciôn. Barcelona: Ronsel. Mea, E. de Azevedo & Steinhart, I. 1997. Ben-Rosb, Biografla do Capitào Barros Basto, 0 Apôstoh dos Marranos. Oporto: Afrontamento. Nabarro, M. 1978. The Music of the Western European Sephardic Jews and the Portuguese Marranos: an Ethnomusicological Study. (Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of South Africa). Paulo, A. 1969. Romanceiro Criptojudâico: Subsidies para 0 estudo dofolclore marrano. Bragança. , 1985. Os Judeus Secretos em Portugal Oporto, Laberinto. Schwarz, S. 1925. Os Crischàos-Novos em Portugal no Seculo XX. (Reprint. Lisbon: Universidade Nova, 1993). Seroussi, E. 1998. "Fuentes Musicales del Cancionero Sefardi." Toledo, European Assodation for Jewish Studies Congress. Paper published in this volume. Topa, A. 1998. "Galandum, Galandaina." In Festival Intercéltico programme booklet. Ed. M. Correia. Oporto: Discantus, 77-82. Vasconcellos, J. L. de 1958. Etnografla Portuguesa, Tentame da sistematiyaçào. Vol. 4. Lisbon: Impresa Nacional-Casa de Moeda.

T H E J E W S ' REFUSAL T O BELIEVE 19TH C E N T U R Y D U T C H P O L E M I C S C O N C E R N I N G T H E J E W S A N D T H E I R FATE JUDITH FRISHMAN Kathol. Theol. Universiteit te Utrecht, T h e Netherlands

In 1784 the first volume of Joseph Priestley's A Histoiy of the Corruptions of Christianity appeared in a Dutch translation. The uproar which it aroused led to heated discussions during the final sessions of the synod of the province of South Holland which was taking place in Dordrecht on the 5 t h -15 t h of July, 1785. A majority felt Priesdey's book "contained many things which undermined and vitiated the Dutch reformed religion." 1 It was decided to propose the founding of a society for the defense of the Christian (i.e. Protestant a n d / o r Reformed) religion so that, with the publication of anti-religious works like Priesdey's a prize would be offered to the author of the best refutation. Five members of the synod too impatient to await the reaction of the local churches decided to immediately found a society which became known as the Hague Sodety for the Defense of Christianity Against Its Present Day Adversaries. In order to achieve the goal of defending Christianity, it was decided to award a prize to the best treatise against Priesdey's work. Until 1967 prizes were awarded yearly to essays on theological subjects starring with several against Priestley. By the middle of the 19,h century the subjects dealt with differed gready from those in the previous fifty years and the name of the society was eventually reduced to the Hague Society for the Defense of Christianity?• At present the foundation is quite liberal and is even contemplating reducing its name to all but a shadow of what it once was, namely the Hague Society.‫נ‬ Apart form the Hague Society, there were two other societies similar in purpose to the aforesaid, which were founded in the same period: The Legatum Stoiplanum (1753) and Teyler's Theological Society (1778). All three societies were apologetic in nature, their purpose being to secure Christianity's place at the basis of society and prove that religion was not at all old-fashioned in a time of intellectual and scientific development. Of the three, the Hague Society was the most

1

2

‫נ‬

Heering, J. P. 1985. " T e n strijde tegen het verlichte Christendom!" In Op de bres. 200jaar Haagsch Genootschap tot verdediging van de christe/ijke godsdienst (1785-1985). 's-Gravenhage: Uitgeverij Boekencentrum Β. V., 5. Van Rossum, J. 1985. " H e t Haagsch G e n o o t s c h a p in de eerste eeuw van zijn bestaan." In Op de bres, 53-58. Smits, P. 1985. " D e theologische ontwikkelingsgang van het Haagsch G e n o o t s c h a p in zijn tweede eeuw." In Op de bres, 59-70.

opposed to enlightenment ideas such as rational belief and Deism. 4 This paper will specifically consider the Hague Society and more specifically the positions concerning the Jews voiced in the winning essays; those which did not win were alas not published and I fear are lost to posterity. N o w I must admit that my position in this undertaking is not one of disinterest. Almost three years ago I was appointed to a chair for the "History of Jewish-Christian Relations since the Reformation" at the University of Leiden, supported by the Hague Society. I was almost certain that the Jews were among the adversaries against whom the Society needed to defend Christianity. The Society's present day board was certain that this was not the case. As a result I decided to devote some time to studying the Society's publications and I will now present some preliminary findings. O f the eight essays which deal with Jews in one way or another only four treat the Jews at some length. These are: 1) Theophilus Piper's The Similarity and Difference Between the Earlier and Eater Opponents of Christianity (1788),5 2) Anton Möller's, Concerning the Jews' Incredulity (1795),6 3) The Truth of the Gospels as Attested to by the Fate of the Jewish Nation, written by Lucas Suringar and awarded a golden medal in 18097 and 4) Christiaan Kalkar's, Concerning the Israelite Theocracy (1841).8 The Hague Society itself suggested several topics for treatises per year. These topics, when not satisfactorily dealt with, would often be carried over to the next year or even the next two or three years. This means that entries could be received on as many as ten topics per year. In 1809, for example, the year in which Suringar's essay on The Jews' Fate was the only one awarded, entries could be submitted on such varied subjects as "The True Nature of Belief Whereby We Take Part in Reconciliation"—quite topical in the Netherlands and even the World Council of Churches today—"The Ascension Was N o Myth But Should Be Literally Understood," "The Origin and Genuineness of the Historical Books of the New Testament," and "The State of the Soul Between Death and Resurrection." 9 It is only within the entire framework of questions concerning the historicity of the Bible, Christianity and its institutions that the treatises concerning the Jews can be understood. I will return now to three of the winning essays in chronological order, the first being Theophilus Piper's essay of 1788. Piper was a doctor and professor of theology at the academy of Gryphiswald and preacher in St. Jacob's church in the same town. The author opens his essay on the Similarity and Difference Between 4

5

6

7

8

9

Van Leeuwen, Th. M. 1985. "Een godsdiensrig genootschap in de verlichdngsdjd." In Op de bres, 22-26. Piper, Th. C. 1788. De overtenkomst en bet verschit tusschen de vroegere en latere bestrijders van den christelijken godsdienst: Verhandelingen van het genootschap tot verdediging van den christelijken godsdienst. 's Haege, Amsterdam, Haerlem: J. du Mee & Zoon, J. Allart, C. van der Aa. Möller, A. W. P. 1795. Over het ongeloof der Joden: Prijsverhandelingen van het genootschap tot verdediging van den christelijken godsdienst, tegen des^elfs hedendaagsche bestrijderen. Amsterdam, Haerlem, 's Haege: J. Allart, C. van der Aa, B. Scheurleer. Suringar, L. 1809. De waarheid van het evangelic betoogd uit de lotgevallen der Joodsche natie. Amsterdam, , s Hage: J. AU art, B. Scheurleer. Kalkar, C. H. A. 1841. Over de Israelitische Godsregering: Verhandelingen, uitgegeven door het Haagsche Genootschap tot verdediging van de christelijke godsdienst, na desyetfs vijftigjarig bestaan. 's Gravenhage: D e erven Thierry en Mensing. Suringar 1809: 2 - 5 (Programma voor het jaar 1809).

Earlier and Later Opponents of Christianity by remarking that the Jews were the oldest and cruelest enemies of Christianity, and in view of the fact that the new opponents have borrowed much bitter slander from them, he has leafed through the Jews' books in order to discover in which writings the earlier and later slanderers agree.10 Piper notes that Celsus, Julianus, Porphyrius and the later Tindal, Collins, De La Serre and Jacob Amrams agree on several matters. Firsdy they compare the miracles of the New Testament to heathen miracle workers and the divine inspirarion of the prophets and aposdes with the Sybilline Oracles. 11 Voltaire and Hume place the establishes and lawgivers of the two Testaments in the same category as Lycurgus, Confucius and Mohammed, and the Holy Scriptures are valued no more highly than works of Herodotus, Josephus, Philo or Tacitus. 12 These critics in fact make no distinction between superstition and true religion; Voltaire, Piper notes, groups "our own purified religion (i.e. the Protestant one) together with the Catholic institutions"—a true insult. 13 In fact, all the opponents including Voltaire have adopted the ideas of both the Jews and the English philosophers Hobbes, Tindal, Collins, Toland and Morgan, Piper argues. These two groups are the sources of all later critique. Their arguments may be summarized as follows: a) It makes no differences which and how many gods are worshipped or whether God is nature or the world itself. b) Rationalism is most important, the mysteries and secrets of Christianity are rejected. c) The authority of the Scriptures is attacked and the holy books are said to have been purposefully forged. d) The opponents are disturbed by the account of the oldest history of the world—i.e. the books of Genesis and the stories of the forefathers. 14 R. Isaac, in Hisguq Emunah for example, claims that the New Testament was first written in the time of Constantine the Great; that Mark and Luke are not witnesses to their own records and the Gospels as a whole are not a divine institution.15 Present day opponents make similar claims based on higher criticism. Yet the heathens who were polytheists, would not have attacked the concept of the Trinity had the Jews not provided them with arguments concerning the oneness of G o d based on the words of Moses and the prophets in the Old Testament. So too the Arians, Muslims, Socinians, and the majority of English Dissenters and the Deists. 16 Piper must admit however that Jews of later times are considerably more sophisticated than their "crude" predecessors. Compare Hi?guq Emunah with Sefer Nisahim, he suggests. The author of Hisguq Emunah is more refined, more 10 11 12 13 14 15

Piper 1788: 11-12. Ibid., 35. Ibid., 37. Ibid., 40. Ibid., 53, 64, 68-69, 74. Ibid., 90-91.

knowledgeable of Old Testament and N e w Testament texts and of Jewish theology, and a better debater. That is why, Piper concludes, it would be best to overthrow these ideas because they strengthen the Jews in their errors and restrain them from embracing the truth. 17 The next winning essay is that of Anton Wilhelm Peter Möller, doctor and professor of theology at the royal Prussian University of Dulsberg. He responded to the question posed in 1795: What were the causes, characteristics and consequences of the Jew's incredulity concerning the person, doctrine and miracles of our Savior? H o w did Jesus and the aposdes respond to the unbelief and unbelievers of their time? T o what extent can Jesus' behavior serve as a model for us today? 18 According to Möller the cause of the Jews' incredulity was threefold: their civil state, religious decline and moral decline. 19 Beginning with the civil state Möller explains that the Jews' national belief in the one true G o d turned into extravagant national pride. Despite exile and foreign rule, Jews flourished and at the time of Christ the Jewish nation was highly regarded and spread throughout the civilized world. 20 They began to regard themselves as G o d ' s favorites and considered Jehova as their nadon's personal possession. 21 They hoped with the help of the messiah to be magnified above all nations. 22 Thus they were quite distanced from the true Israelite spirit of the moral kingdom and this led to the fall of the state. It is no surprise that they were deaf to Jesus' message in such circumstances. 23 As for the religious decline: since the rime of the reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah the Jews had made no visible progress concerning their understanding of G o d and his service. True they worshipped only the one G o d yet they became influenced by Neo-Platonic, Epicurean and Pythagorean philosophy, reducing their religion to an ardficially constructed shrewdness. 24 The religion became superficial, reduced to the precise observance of external ceremonies of the law mixed with superstition. Religion was reduced to a body without soul. 25 Lasdy, as for the Jews' moral decline: any other nation, had it been endowed with opportunities equal to those of the Jews, would have reached a much higher moral level. Jerusalem at the time of Christ was very wealthy and the priests w h o served as an example were power hungry, greedy and vain. It is no wonder that Jesus' call for repentance could not be heard and that he and his aposdes were persecuted. 26 Jesus' reaction to all this was moderate. He realized the Jews rejected him not while knowing better, but out of ignorance. Thus he treated them as errant and didn't damn them but remained patient, in any case with those including his own disciples, who had not become oblivious to im17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Ibid., 253-256. Möller 1795: 17. Ibid., 22-23. Ibid., 35-36. Ibid., 38. Ibid., 39. Ibid., 54. Ibid., 72. Ibid., 73-74.

provement on account of immorality. 27 Jesus tried to arouse a moral sense, direcdng his words not only to the intellect but to the heart. Lasdy, he appealed to the truth. 28 His behavior was free of coercion as should present day methods be as well. It makes no sense to try to unite all with common creeds or to portray those who hold other opinions as enemies of the truth. Oppression, denouncements and theological arguments resemble in fact the Jews' behavior who thought they were doing God a favor by persecuting the aposdes. 29 O n the whole, Möllers arguments seem rather mild and indeed the jury members felt so as well. In the preface to the publication the latter note that the author might have brought the great inattentiveness and ignorance of the Jews regarding God's extremely fair justice more to the fore. Furthermore this ignoranee was one of the major causes of the nation's refusal to believe and led it to reject to doctrine of reconciliation. Because it is necessary now as well to warn against disbelief, one should consult Joh. Hoornbeek's De convincendis et convertendis ]udaeis and Fr. Spanheim's Controversiarum de Religione cum diffidentibus et cum infidelibus Judaeis Elenchus and other similar works. 30 Lasdy, there is Christiaan Kalkar's work Concerning the Israelite Theocracy. Kalkar, doctor of theology and philosophy and professor at the Cathedral School in Odense in Fiihnen, Denmark, was awarded the gold medal in 1841. The purpose of the essay was to indicate the differences between the Israelite theocracy and the structure of the priesdy castes of eastern peoples (and the later hierarchy). Furthermore Kalkar set out to prove the divine origin of the theocracy in order to refute doubts concerning the credibility of the historical books of the Old Testament, and lead to proper appreciation of the history of the Israelite nation. Kalkar commences by claiming that Israelite history differs from that of all other peoples on earth. Its history proves, as Herder wrote "that Israel must be the people of God, the reflection of God's relationship with people and their relation to him, the only God." 31 Theocracy can only be understood in the context of the promises made to the forefathers which were related to later events which would involve the entire world. 32 O n the one hand this theocracy was unique and in no way a copy of Egyptian or heathen institutions. O n the other hand, the religion which developed from this theocracy was in many ways just a signifier or symbol of the perfect things. 33 The Deists, such as Tindal, Toland, and Bolingbroke, who claim that Israelite religion is a product of the Jewish narrow-minded spirit and that Jehova is no more than a Volksgod and the government one of particularism are all wrong. Jehova is the Volksgod but also the God of creation, of all mankind. 34 Israelite theocracy is unique, not as the particularist limitations of God's love to one people, but as God's condescending 27

Ibid., 120.

28

Ibid., 122-125. Ibid., 154-155. Ibid., III (Voorbericht). Kalkar 1841: 8. Ibid., 13. Ibid., 17. Ibid., 24.

29 30 31 32 33 34

to a covenantal relationship with Israel until the fullness of time comes. 35 This particularism is thus tied to historical developments in the world in which there is a slow and steady progress of God's counsel. Even if the Jews, through fanadsm, slavishly adhered to works instead of voluntary obedience and thought themselves a privileged people, this does not reflect negatively upon the nature of theocracy itself.36 Furthermore, scholars like Hegel and Vatke are wrong to try to force Israelite religion into an all embracing theory of mythologies. The purpose of the Israelite theocracy is none other than, through the covenant, to make all holy because "I the Lord am holy." 37 This is unique. O n the other hand—like any other state—the Israelite state too needed laws and therefor Christianity does not abolish the law; in fact it states not "Thou shalt" but "Thou must. It only removed the external, legalistic forms. 38 But Kant is wrong in stating that the law was mainly externals and so can't be considered a true theocracy. The law seems rather external because it was given according to the ability of those who had just been freed as slaves. Yet it was never meant to attain solely external righteousness. It was meant to glorify God in love (cf. Deut 4, Deut 11 and Nu 15), even in the small details which are also types or symbols. 39 Already in the Bible it is clear, for example, that God does not desire real offers but the offers of a broken heart. Thus the Israelites—as opposed to Bruno Bauer's asserdons—realized at least partially the symbolic value of the laws.40 As for the difference between Israel and eastern religions: in contrast to oriental institutions, in Israel G o d is not represented by one figure; he is distinguished from his creatures, his government is not despotic, there are no castes and the religion is not without development. 41 Thus the Pope and the institutions of the Catholic church are not a reflection of the Israelite theocracy, as some claim, but a pure dictatorship, whereby the laity is excluded from the gifts of Christ and the priests alone participate. 42 The theocracy had deep influence on Israelite history. It insisted on holiness and introduced the notion of the desire for redemption. It led to joy for God's institutions, a moral loftiness which other nations did not achieve. They did not rejoice in their god's commandments but obeyed for fear of revenge or punishment from an angry or insulted god. 43 Israelite history is unique. Such a history cannot be concocted nor can such a people be invented. 44 In summary then, the three essays really seem to be aimed more against the Deists than against Jews. O n the contrary, the defense of Christianity seems to be dependent on the defense of Judaism, if not as practiced by the Jews since 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

Ibid., 25. Ibid., 27. Ibid., 60. Ibid., 66, note 1. Ibid., 76-77. Ibid., 87-88. Ibid., 168-170, 174. Ibid., 193. Ibid., 208. Ibid., 243.

the time of Jesus onward, at least in what these Chrisdan authors thought of as its pure, original form as intended by God. It is amazing how little attention is paid to contemporary Jews apart from Piper's brief references to Mendelssohn, Troky and Jacob Amram amongst others. This is even more surprising if one realizes that precisely during this period the Dutch Missionary Society was founded 45 with the purpose of expanding both mission abroad and at home, the latter especially among the Jews and that many of the board members of the Hague Society served on the board of the Missionary Society^ Was it because the two societies maintained a clear distinction of labor? Possibly, as the Hague Sodety stopped its short-lived publication of popular works when the Dutch Missionaiy Society began producing pamphlets. 47 Or is it because the Jews were a force which hardly needed to be contended with, at least as far as philosophical discourse was concerned?

45 46

47

The Dutch Missionary Society, or Nederlandsch zendeling genootschap, was founded in 1797. Boneschansker, J. 1885. " D e kleine Prijsverhandelingen van het Haagsch Genootschap." In Op de hres, 33—46, esp. 37. Ibid.

QUESTIONING TIME SYLVIE A N N E GOLDBERG Ecole des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, Paris, France.

As shown by history, any questioning of time involves a questioning of origins. Between Jews and Christians, the question of origins always comes back to conflicts over the interpretation of the Bible. In this paper I will examine some effects of these interpretations on the course of history. But I would also like to show that a questioning of time intertwines the past to the present time, as an echo across ages, with diverse objects and in distinct contexts. I will present three examples, each with a different thrust, a different significance. T h e first concerns the reckoning of the Jewish era, the second deals with the notion of time in the Bible and the third questions Jewish temporality in the world today. We can consider that universal time, particular time and a combination of the two, with the movements and relations between them, make up the threefold time frame of the Jewish temporal register. 1. T o begin with, what is today's date? And what is the year? This first question can have three answers: Today is the third day of the week, the 27 th of Tames; Today is Tuesday, July 21 th ; and Today is both of the above. T h e answer given reflects a combination whose harmony or absence thereof is composed of a dosage that operates between Jewish time and universal time. T h e second question elicits a far broader reflection. Because, between the years 5758 and 1998 there comes into play a relation with history that is much deeper than the difference between the third and the second day of the week, or whether it is set in a lunar or a solar month. If we accept that determining the era corresponds to situating it on the axis of time, then we must admit that the axis has a starting point. Geometry holds that a straight line can be of infinite length—as it is in secular or astronomic time. However, the western world in which we live has traced an axis that is moving toward an end, envisioned as the end of time or else the redemption. That an end to time must c o m e — o n this point Jews and Christians find themselves in agreement; what divides them is when it begins: what is the starting point from which time must be counted? H o w did Jews arrive at their figure of over 5000 years? Any linear reading of the books of the Bible shows that temporal landmarks are provided in the Pentateuch by the lifespan of various people, in the books of Kings and Prophets by reigns of the kings of Judah and Israel, while the scribes of the Diaspora, align themselves with the reigns of the kings of Babylon and Persia. 1

1

See Bornstein, H. Y. 1920. "Ta'arikhei Yisrael." Ha-tekufab 8, 281-338; 9, 202-264.

The principle of determining this date by calculating from the creation of the world appears in the Seder Olam, a chronological account attributed to a Tanna of the second century. 2 In that period, when Roman Palestine was much agitated by war, the multiplication of dissident Jewish sects and the emergence of Christianity, the reckoning of time may have grown out of the expectation of Messianic redemption, with the idea of chronology itself being a deployment along a line from the beginning of time to its end. 3 For Jews and Christians alike, the origin of time is based on the biblical account of creation. But the end of days rests on the apocalyptic visions in the Book of Daniel: " N o w I am come to make thee understand what shall befall thy people in the latter days...," " K n o w therefore and understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem unto the Messiah the Prince shall be seven weeks..." 4 Messianic speculations were based largely on a reinterpretation of these visions and on explanations of this text, since they would make it possible to situate the end of time along an extension made up of fixed periods. T o grasp the hidden meaning of the text, it would suffice to pierce the mystery of the duration of the periods. 5 The question of the end of time can be formulated as follows: knowing that the final redemption must be accomplished in a time predetermined by God, how is it possible, using the same sources, for one party to show that it is imminent but not yet accomplished and for the other to prove that the Saviour did come at the predicted time? T h e Yeshiva of Elijah says: the world is destined to last 6000 years. T w o thousand years of chaos (Tohu), two thousand years of Torah, two thousand years of the days of the Messiah. 6 G o d finished his work in six days... That means that in 6000 years G o d will bring all things to completion, because for him "a day of the Lord is as 1000 years." Therefore, in six days, that is, in 6000 years, the universe wül be brought to its end. (for) " O n the seventh day he rested..." 7

Many computations are based on these two quotations. The first is Jewish, cited many times in the Talmud, the commentaries and the midrasbim. The second is part of Christian heritage. The Epistle of Barnabas, in the 2nd century of the c o m m o n era, although fervendy anti-Jewish, follows an apocalyptic structure deeply anchored in Jewish temporality and raises a "question of time." There was no problem predicting when the end would come if only we knew how much time had elapsed. From the account of Genesis 5 it is not a problem to add up the time passed from the dawn of creation until the flood. It is also not really a problem to calculate from the flood to the exodus from Egypt, since the

2

3

4 5 6 7

Ye v., 82b; Nid., 46b. Seder o/am was first published in 1514, Mantova. See Ratner, B. 1894. Mavo leSeder Olam rabba, and the forthcoming critical edition by H. Milikowsky. See Frank, E. 1956.Talmudic and Rabbinical Chronology. New York; Mahler, E. 1967. Handbuch der Jüdischen Chronologie. Hildesheim. Deut 10:14; 9:25. Deut, from chap. 9 on, until the end of the Book. AZ, 9a. Episde of Barnabas, Barnabae Epistula. Lipsiae, 1877.

ages of all the Patriarchs are given. Most of the problems concerning the reckoning of elapsed time arise from the contradictions found in the Bible about the length of the events described. From this point, that is, the Exodus, reckoning the elapsed time begins to be seriously debated in Jewish circles, as we can see from the Passover Haggadah, when it discusses the period of slavery f r o m the birth of Isaac on. O n the other hand, the first Christians, the Fathers of the Church, tried to build a chronology relying on the Greek translations of the Bible, claiming that six weeks of the seven announced by Daniel had really elapsed between the Creation and the birth of Christ. The reckoning of elapsed time starting with the creation of the world became an arena of confrontation between Jews, Samaritans and Christians, each of w h o m believed they held the authentic truth based on their interpretation of the Bible. The Jews evaluated the period elapsed between Adam's expulsion from Eden and the Flood as 1656 years; the Samaritans reduced this figure to 1307 years; while for Julius Africanus, it was 2262 years. 8 Partially obtained through numerical variations found in the Septuagint—which systematically adds a hundred years to the lives of the antediluvian generations—this temporal inflation can be seen as a response to theological motivations. 9 Confronting each other on the terrain of homiletic and hermeneutic history, the two religions fought one another, the one to acquire, the other to defend its position as "chosen people." By extending the interval between the flood and Abraham to 1015 years, Julius Africanus was able to situate the death of Joseph in 3565 of the Adamic era. Adding to this the 210 years that the Hebrews spent in Egypt, the 1235 years that are supposed to have elapsed between Moses and Cyrus and the 490 years since Cyrus, according to the prophesy of Daniel, the birth of Jesus took place in the year 5500 after the creation, the exact midpoint of the messianic millennium. 10 However, in the first century Flavius Josephus had already proudly proclaimed that the history of his people covered five thousand years." This would tend to show that the use of these inflated figures was not limited to only gentile circles. Thus, the question of elapsed time, deduced from different readings of the biblical text, was able to accomplish its historic destiny, and set Jews and Chrisdans along parallel lines of time. From the time of the Seder Olam, we can see in Jewish literature that landmarks are instituted by key moments in Jewish history: the exodus from Egypt, the building of the Temple, deportation, reconstruction, destruction, the Seleucid era 12 —Judaized by being identified with the end of prophesy—and creation. 13 Once they had worked out the amount of time

8 9

10 11 12 13

Al-Biruni (973-1048), Chronology of Ancient Nations. By C. Edward Sachau, London, 1879. Graetz, H. "Fälschungen in dem Texte der Septuaginta von christlicher Hand zu dogmarischen Zwecken." MGW] 2, 432-436. Patrologiac cursus completus. (PG). J. P. Migne, Series graeca, Paris, 1857-1866, 10, 63. Josephus, F. Against Apion. 1,1,1; Jewish Antiquities. 1,1,3,13. Grumel, V. 1958. Traité d'Études byzantines. 1. La Chronologie, Paris. Mekhilta d-r. Ishmaei\ massekhet Yitro, "in the third m o n t h , " see PT Rosb ha-shanah. F r o m the Seder Olam on, c. 30, the rabbinic literature constandy identifies the introduction of the Seleucid era,

elapsed since creation, it still took a few more centuries before the era of création came into regular use in the Jewish world. This happened in the Middle Ages, in response to the choice made by the Church to situate its history in the era of the Incarnation. In this way, the question of time, emerging from the respective readings of those who both based themselves on the Scriptures, sufficed to jusdfy a schism. The present figure used for the Jewish era is thought to be a result of the computations of the Sages who, in the period after the destruction of the Temple, sought to establish a permanent chronology of the past in order to evaluate the probable coming of the Messiah in the course of History. So, having started out on the same temporal axis, responding to a universal eschatological quest, Jews and Christians henceforth follow parallel lines through time—lines that can no longer meet. 2. Bible Criticism, as an academic field, appeared in the 19th century, at a time when Jews were seeking to obtain civil rights, but also to win recognition of Judaism as part of the cultural heritage of western civilization. The emergence of the Science of Judaism is one of the expressions of that struggle; the scientific study of the holy texts, by demonstrating their universal scope, was supposed to open the Gates of the City to the Jews. For over a century the work of Bible critics took it for granted that there was a profound difference between representations of time perceived by IndoEuropean and Semitic peoples. They claimed that it was impossible for the Israelites to represent time otherwise than through the perception of events, contrasted with the Greeks' ability to distinguish between "absolute time" and "space-time," implying that the Hebrews could not conceive abstract representations. 14 The usual history of the genesis of the notion of time suggests that the circular representation of temporality proper to barbarians and archaic societies was, 15 with the emergence of monotheism and later of Christianity, replaced by a representation that was vertical, then linear, serving as a scale of progress and evolution of societies. 16 The Christian approach characterizes European time as an "infinite line" along which events are placed, opposed to Israelite time, identifiable by its contents, 17 which forms a time that is "full" and concrete and leaves no place for ordering or arranging its episodes. 18 It has become commonplace, since von Orelli. 19 ο compare the Hebrew and Greek Bibles as well as the N e w Testament, term for term with the lexicon of philosophical temporality. The analysis is based on a comparison of vocabulary describing time: the biblical Hebrew moed, et, ^eman and olam with the Greek

14

15

16 17 18 19

introduced in 312 bee, with the "end of the prophecy," see Bar Hiyyah's, Sefer ha-Jbbur. Ed. H. Filipowski. London, 1851, 43, 308; Saadia Gaon's Sefer ha-Agron, 8, 5. A. Momigliano ridiculed this allegation in "Time in Ancient Historiography." History and Theory 5, Beiheft 6, 1966, 1-23. Eliade, M. 1974. The Myth Of The Eternal Return, or, Cosmos and History. Princeton; Gurevitch, A. J. 1985. Categories of Medieval Culture. London. Herder, 1968. Reflections on the philosophy of the history of mankind. Chicago. Boman, T. 1954. Das Hebräische Denken im Vergleich mit dem griechischen. Göttingen. Von Rad, G. 1957. Theologie des Alten Testament. 2 vol.. Munich, repr. 1960, 1980. Von Orelli, C. 1871. Die Hebräischen Synonyma der Zeit und Ewigkeit. Leipzig.

chronos (interval, instant), ai on (passage, generation), and kairos, rectitude of time. From this comparison come several c o m m o n ideas on the notion of biblical time: the Hebrew conjugations do not distinguish past, present and future; the world is made of flesh, which implies a concrete vision of time; time took on meaning only at that point in history that G o d brought the Hebrews out of Egypt. For the Greeks, time is essentially cyclical,20 for the Hebrews, time is the equivalent of substance; 21 the Greeks are dominated by a spatial vision, the Hebrews by a temporal vision. 22 The divergent opinions and contradictory visions of the philological and linguistic approaches lead to some very surprising results. For example, the time expressed in Qohelet is understood by some as recurrent and without meaning, while for others it shows the importation of non-Hebrew thought. 23 Opinions also diverge on the proper geometric figures for its representation: the circle is seen as defining Greek time for some and Biblical time for others; and one states that although cyclical time is indeed Greek, linear time is still not biblical, because it is a result of the (Greek?) introduction of chronological time into the understanding of biblical material. 24 Some see the Greek vision as being at the same time linear and circular. 25 In short, no vision of time is really identifiable in the Bible, which grasps only " m o m e n t s " and "decisive" times. All agree, however, in reaffirming the differences between Greek and Biblical visions, and Von Rad states that, in contrast to the Bible, the western conception of time is more or less consciously linear.26 James Barr opens another path. Because Biblical language as we know it comes from a distant past, from a foreign idiom and a different culture, we are faced with a real problem of translation and transculturation. 27 But nothing proves that the gap between the time perceptions of Biblical Hebrews, ancient Greeks and the Western peoples of today is so great that we will never manage to understand or identify them. By his explanations, Barr shows the bias and incoherence of theological approaches based on the methods of linguistics and Biblical philology. When Christian theologians attributed to the religion of Israel the paternity of the notion of temporal creation, thereby bestowing on it the merit of being the first historic religion, 28 it was the better to show the immaturity of its monotheism. Surprisingly, while Bible criticism was debating the authenticity of the divine word in the Old Testament by looking, as James Frazer put it in his time, at a succession of components clumsily placed end to end, 29 few Jewish studies defended the traditional vision, accepting de facto the principle of a text revealed

20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29

Vidal-Naquet, P. 1960. "Temps des dieux, temps des hommes." KHK 157, 55-80. Gesenius-Kautzsch, 1898. Hebrew Grammar. O x f o r d , repr. 1910,.141‫ם‬ Boman 1954. Robinson, H. W. 1946. inspiration and Revelation in the Old Testament. O x f o r d , 109. Marsh, J. 1952. The Fullness of Time. London, 175-179. Boman 1954. Von Rad 1957: 2,88. Barr, J. 1961. The Semantics of Biblical Language. London. Von Rad 1957: 1, 126. Frazer, J. 1923. Folk-lore in the Old Testament. New York.

and completed by corpus, within which the nodon of temporality really made no sense, since the biblical text had been formed over the centuries by the multiplicity of cultural systems at work in it, just like the Hebrew people itself. 30 If the first question of time discussed here emerged from an eschatological quest, a quarrel between heirs, then the second shows that the battle, when displaced to another terrain, is still purely theological in nature. I would now like to bring the dispute over Jewish time into the world of today. 3. The debates over Greater Israel can be seen from different angles, all of them fraught with polidcal conflicts. I am not about to place myself on this terrain. Reading the books of the Bible traces out a geography that some proclaim and others ignore: some espouse it in the name of religious dowry, others ignore it in the name of historical reality. In both cases, Biblical interpretation is summoned to the tribunal of present time. Those who proclaim their legitimate right to the land do it heads covered and Bible in hand; those who are willing to renounce these claims are often those who demand the right to civil marriage, the opening of shops on Saturday, in short, the right to live in a temporal register not based on Jewish religious principles. If, however, one were to pose the question of reformulating a Jewish identity, both camps would envisage it only for their opponents. The ultras want "universal" Jews to return to traditional Judaism and the secular want the haredim to become "civilized." The situation seems deadlocked, with two Jewish temporalities fighting each other, one eschatological, the other, let us say, astronomic. Although the Old Testament is the common heritage of the monotheistic religions, the question of its enduring validity is still a subject of debate. The N e w Covenant that marks this change of view comes with the emergence of the Rabbinic period and the beginning of the history of the Jews. It was then that Judaism sacrificed universalism (propagation) for singularism in order to endure in time. The field of Jewish Studies can illustrate how this works: it developed with the emergence of the political combat of Jews for emancipation, at the price, if we are to believe Gershom Scholem—of a renunciation; in the 19th and 20 th centuries, it sacrificed particularism to retain only the more "presentable" aspects of Jewish culture and religion. In recent decades however, a backlash began to be felt, due to the institutionalization of Jewish Studies everywhere as well as to the historic legitimacy introduced by the creation of the State of Israel. This recourse to science has enabled scholars to investigate spheres formerly reserved to the closed circles of the learned of the Torah. As the Torah has moved out of the hadarim md jeshivot to enter the University, the option is open to those who study it to choose its time frame or not. The eschatological axis of Judaism thus passes into the domain of free choice, and can be examined in the light of its evolution in contact with other civilizations. 30

Jacob, B. 1934. Das Erste Buch der Tora Genesis. Berlin, utterly denies the documentary hypothesis; some of the searchers pardy rely on it, as Kauffmann, Y., Greenberg M. (trans.) 1960. The Re/igion of Israel: From the beginnings to the Babylonian Exile. Chicago, repr. N e w York, 1972; Cassuto, U. 1961. The Documentary hypothesis and the composition of the Pentateuch. Trans, by I. Abrahams, Jerusalem, repr. 1983.

Let us return to our threefold conception of time in Judaism: the first example showed that establishing a specifically Jewish chronology grew out of a universal questioning, for the end of the world is the end of all mankind. The second showed that identifying the notion of Biblical time by studying the text turned into a theological discussion, and that wanting to affirm the supremacy of Christianity over Judaism, Bible criticism, thanks to Wellhausen, 31 brought out mainly the cultural contributions of the ancient world within Judaism. The third shows that what we are witnessing today is a confrontation of two temporal scales. Must we conclude therefore that Jewish temporality can be grasped only in its religious aspect? Is it conceivable that a Jewish temporal register exists outside of Messianism? Can Judaism endure by finding an arrangement between singularism and universalism? If these questions remain open, the rise of Jewish Studies, taking advantage of the alliance between tradition and profane knowledge, seems to attest that such a compromise is feasible! But if the era of the geulah that we find in the inscriptions of Bar Kokhba's epoch were to be repeated, one cannot help thinking that the same causes (messianism combined with nationalism) could produce the same effects, (ruin and destruction) and that the future of Jews and of their state could well be jeopardized. W h o could predict what would result from a neutralization of messianism? At a time when Christianity is recognizing its sources and rereading the documentary hypothesis with a new eye, the option of withdrawing into oneself is no longer in the spirit of the time. Biblical interpretation should be something more than just a source of conflict. T o reach the seventh millennium, Judaism may have to rethink the days of the Messiah, just as it did 2000 years ago. And seeing that Jewish time still provides a source for historic legitimacy, it might be time to examine the construction of its history and to avoid placing the two axes—the eschatological and the astronomic—on irreconcilable parallel lines. But in this sense, isn't history always an enemy of eschatology?

31

Wellhausen, J. 1878. Geschichte Israels. Berlin; 1883. Prolegomena %ur Geschichte Israels. Berlin.

JEWISH ORIENTALISM IVAN KALMAR University of Toronto, Canada Spain is m u c h admired for its Islamic and mudéjar architecture, b o t h of which are evident also in the city's former synagogues. T h e horseshoe arch and other features of Islamic building art knew a revival in the nineteenth century. This style, known throughout E u r o p e as "Moorish," became popular as a minor branch of the historical romantic style. T h e Moorish style was meant to be reminiscent not only of Muslim Spain but also of the Muslim world in general, and incorporated many elements evocative of Turkey. Alongside the Alhambra, the originally Byzantine Church of Santa Sophia in Istanbul provided perhaps the two major reference points for the architects designing in the Moorish style. Consequendy, the style is sometimes referred to as Moorish-Byzantine. Some examples have very few if any Byzantine elements; others have many. T h e Moorish style was used throughout the Western world; indeed, there is no reason to imagine that it originated in Spain. More likely, but this needs to be investigated, the mudéjar revival in Spain was a response to an earlier enthusiasm for the Moorish style elsewhere in Europe. There was a contrast between Spain and elsewhere in terms of the functions of neo-Moorish architecture. In Spain, the style was used to build numerous dwellings and office buildings, though rarely if ever churches. Outside Spain, however, the Moorish style was normally used only to build places of entertainment and recreation, such as exhibition halls, beach pavilions and burlesque houses. Undoubtedly, the "oriental" references evoked some feeling of romantic pride in Spaniards about the grandeur of their Muslim past, even though Spanish identity is so intimately connected to the defeat of the Muslims. Elsewhere, the Islamic evoked in the popular mind mosdy the excitement of a the "inscrutable" mystery of the East—at times understood as the key to spiritual fulfillment, and at times as a threatening, sinister enigma. In spite of some current simplifications of what "orientalism" meant and means in the history of ideas in the West, its significance is and was varied, complex, and contradictory, richly reflective of place, purpose, and time. Just h o w adaptable and complex the orientalism of the Moorish style was, is illustrated by the strange fact that it was taken very seriously by the Ashkenazic (not Sephardic!) Jews. Between about 1855 and about 1930, it was perhaps the m a j o r style in Ashkenazi synagogue architecture outside the Russian Empire. During this period, a typical town or city almost anywhere in the Western world would have one or two Moorish buildings. These would typically include a einema or variety theatre—and, if there was a Jewish community, a synagogue or synagogues.

Why did the Jews use Moorish architecture for a serious purpose, while their neighbours used it mosdy for entertainment? Like the Spaniards, the Jews had an attachment to their past under Islamic rule on the Iberian Peninsula. But, more importantiy, the Jews were themselves widely considered an Oriental people, a characterization that they accepted, sometimes assertively. There was a streak in Jewish thought that asserted this Oriental identity with pride. I refer to this now largely forgotten sentiment as part of what I shall call "Jewish orientalism," and it is this sentiment that my paper aims to briefly explore here. Among the early Jewish orientalists was Benjamin Disraeli, the towering Tory figure in nineteenth-century British politics and Queen Victoria's favorite Prime Minister. Disraeli was a man of extraordinary chutzpah. When in 1835 O'Connell, the powerful Irish parliamentarian, attacked his Jewish ancestry, Disraeli replied without hesitation: "Yes, I am a Jew, and when the ancestors of the right honorable gendeman were brutal savages in an unknown island, mine were priests in the temple of Solomon." O d d pride, perhaps, for a baptized Jew. Odder still, as we look back through the veil of decades of strife in the Middle East, was that Disraeli wrote of the Jews as an "Arabian tribe," and of the Arabs, as "only Jews upon horseback." When a character in his novel Tancred says, with Disraeli's obvious approval, that " G o d never spoke except to an Arab," he means of course that Moses, the Prophets of Israel, Jesus, and Mohammed were all Arabs. 1 What could seem more bizarre than such ecumenical Semitic pride? Yet the fascination Disraeli had for the Jews' supposed "oriental" character was far from uncommon. It is a striking fact that from the late eighteenth to the early twentieth century, Jews were universally regarded as an oriental people. Many of them internalized this view of themselves, and being "oriental" became for them a matter of considerable pride. Although perfecdy obvious when the appropriate sources are accessed, Jewish orientalism has been litde discussed in the literature. A fine exception is a chapter in Paul Mendes-Flohr's Divided Passions.2 The chapter is headed "Fin de Siècle Orientalism, The Ostjuden, and the Aesthetics of Jewish Self-Affirmation." In fact, however, Jewish orientalism dates back long before the period discussed by Mendes-Flohr: the turn of the twentieth century and the mass emigration of East European Jews. Voltaire referred to the Jews disparagingly as "Asian." The fist positive impersonation of the Jewish oriental was perhaps Lessing's Nathan the Wise. Disraeli's David Alroj may be the first such character created by a Jew. The term "Jewish orientalism" as I use it here is deliberately ambiguous, meaning both the Gentile view of the Jews as orientals, and the atdtude of the Jews who so viewed themselves. For it is essential that we view the development of Jewish orientalism as dialogic: both Jew and Gentile contributed to it. In the late eighteenth century, Jewish-Gentile contact increased in Western and Central Europe. People were able to test their acquired anti-Jewish preju-

1 2

All the quotes in this paragraph are from Tancred. Mendes-Flohr, P. 1991. Divided Passions: Jewish Intellectuals and the Experience of Modernity. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.

dice against the actual experience of meeting real, live Jews. As a result, a certain "good Jew" stereotype emerged as a counterweight to the ages-old vilifications. The new stereotype was held out as the image of what Jews could become if age-old discriminatory laws and attitudes against them were eliminated. Among the first social forums where Jews of distinction could socialize freely with Gentiles were the Masonic lodges. In England, an Edward Rose became a Freemason in 1732, and as early as 1756, a Masonic prayer book included a prayer "at the opening of the lodge meeting and the like for the use of Jewish Freemasons." The imagery of Freemasonry was thoroughly orientalist. (An obvious example is the name of France's most famous lodge, le Grand Orient.) The Masons claimed to be spiritual descendants of the builders of Solomon's Temple as well as of the Pyramids, and it proved difficult for them to resist admitting Jewish applicants, though many certainly tried. The Scottish Rite went as far in its romantic philo-Semitism that they adopted the Hebrew calendar. Contact with actual Jews also helped to create new, more positive depictions of the Jew in the world of fiction. Gotthold Lessing modeled his banker hero in Nathan the Wise (1779) on the Berlin businessman and philosopher, Moses Mendelssohn. 3 The character was widely imitated. In England, Cumberland established a tradition with his philosophical banker, Sheva, the hero of his play, The Jew. Among Sheva's apparent literary descendants are Disraeli's Sidonia and Besso, who appear in more than one of his novels. The "noble Jew" that such bankers represent is what we would call today a politically correct remake of an older stereotype. Here we are dealing with something similar to the case of Walter Scott's Rebecca. The heroine of lvanhoe is still very much the same character as Shylock's Jessica in The Merchant of Venice — t h e angelic daughter of an uncompromising Jewish usurer, and a sex object for her Gentile admirer. The older, anti-Semitic character is still quite easily perceived under the veneer of the enlightened, pro-Jewish reworking. The male "noble Jew" banker, too, does resemble the Shakespearean prototype in that he, like Shylock, lends money. However, his mental and physical characteristics are the exact opposite of Shylock's. He is a generous philanthropist, and a philosopher to boot. Nathan generously aids the temporarily impoverished sultan Suleiman; Sheva, in his play, The Jew (1794), anonymously helps out two Christian gendemen; both utter didactic principles meant to edify the audience. Many noble Jew and noble Jewess characters were, and this is important to emphasize, depicted as orientals, either by actual residence or, more often, by their appearance. The dress and appearance of Rebecca and her father are explicidy portrayed as oriental, and in the end daughter and father both emigrate to Muslim Spain. Nathan's wealth is acquired by his camel caravans, laden with oriental riches, plying the deserts from the Mediterranean to the Euphrates.

3

Earlier, Lessing had depicted a "noble Jew," perhaps also inspired by Mendelssohn, in The Jews. First performed in 1749. Here the noble Jew is also a wealthy man, but though his origins are uncertain, he is not in any sense depicted as an oriental.

Indeed, the noble Jew is a semiodc relative of an underexplored early modern character, the noble oriental. The sultan Suleiman provides an example in Nathan the Wise, as do the Mozartian characters, Sarastro in The Mage Flute and Sultan Selim in The Abduction from the Seraglio. (Such characters may, in turn, be enlightenment reworkings of the much-mocked Turk of mediaeval iconography·4) The noble Jew and the noble Oriental were both Enlightenment characters preaching the same deist views. However, they did differ in estate. The noble Oriental was typically a ruler; the noble Jew, a banker. In this respect, Harold Fisch 5 was right to maintain that the modern, including early modern, image of the "good Jew" is the image of bourgeois virtue emerging as an alternative to aristocratic pride. If the noble Oriental ruler was an image meant to flatter a German or Austrian Prince, the noble Jew was meant to flatter the typical bourgeois. 6

Jews, Aristocrats, and Bourgeois The typical bourgeois may or may not have disliked the actual nobility, but they loved nothing more than the idea of noble descent. As the Rothschilds' struggle to become Austrian barons proves, wealthy bourgeois would spare nothing to be given an aristocratic tide. Those who could not hope to become peers sought more readily available symbols of fine breeding. T o surround themselves with the aura of pedigree, the bourgeois bought antique furniture, thus purchasing for themselves a past of sorts. If they could not also purchase a patent of nobility, they found a symbolic substitute in the family tree of their plants and animals. The eighteenth century saw serious progress in animal husbandry, dog breeding, dove raring, and viniculture. As ladies and gendemen bred animals and improved plants, they pracdeed on their surroundings the doctrine of race as nobility. In the early nineteenth century, "race thinking," as Disraeli called it, was immature. In England, for example, there was no shortage of preaching and writing on the great racial merits of the English, though it was not generally agreed just what the racial make-up of the English was. While the Saxon element was most widely emphasized, relatively sane people held that the English were descendants of the Trojans, or a lost tribe of Israel. Note how association

4

Selim of the Abduction is portrayed (in his absence) as a cruel oriental despot in the first parts of the opera, but, to the European protagonists' surprise, turns out to be a philosopher king once they meet him. In Rossini's U Turco in Italia, the Turkish seducer, called Sultan Selim as in the Abduction is, though hardly a wise man, in no way m o r e or less despicable than the Italian characters. IlTurco's libretto includes some deliberately relativist c o m m e n t s on international customs and manners.

5

Fisch, H. 1971. The Dual Image: The Figure of the Jew in English and American Literature. N e w York: Ktav, 1971. If the noble oriental idealized the aristocrat and the noble Jew idealized the bourgeois, it is not surprising to see early o n representadons of the worldly Jewish banker as an unwelcome intruder, a parvenu in aristocratic high society, such as Baron Levy in Bulwer-Lytton's My Novel or Varieties of English Life.

6

with the Children of Israel did not seem to be demeaning to the true-blooded English. In general, early "race thinking" differed f r o m later racism in that its domineering, discriminating, and hateful message was still largely implicit. Its tone resembled what one would find in a handbook of horses or dogs, where the good traits of each breed are generally emphasized more than the bad. Similarly, orientalism, and particularly its early versions, was meant to be benign. Its hidden agenda was to a large extent, as Edward Said pointed out, one of colonial domination. This hidden agenda often became overt in the late nineteenth century, but when it did, it did so in a dialogue with the more admiring version of orientalism. The direcdy and openly racist texts that some of Said's vulgarizing followers see as the epitome of orientalism are better referred to as anti-orientalism than as orientalism itself. Orientalist fiction and painting typically presented scenes of male heroism and female sensuality, and as such was an important part of the nascent romantic imagination. The complex, polysemic, and to use a Bakhtinian term, double-voiced semiotic of orientalism ineluded romantic idealization, sexual fantasy, antimodern authoritarianism, the desire to dominate the Other, colonialist ambitions, and more. F r o m the late eighteenth to the late nineteenth century, the romantic idealization was experienced by Europeans as foremost. In the eighteen seventies, the Grand Dictionnaire du XIXe siècle defined "orientalism" as the "Système de ceux qui prétendent que les peuples occidentaux doivent à l'Orient leur origine, leurs langue, leurs science et leurs arts." 7 It added that orientalism had a revolutionary impact on European thought, making it more open to the ways and mores of others. 8 Orientalist representations sounded flattering, and many Jews decided to play up to them. In late eighteenth century Vienna, a number of inventive but insincere Jews convinced their fellow Masons that they possessed lost Hebrew secrets, recendy discovered in the Holy Land. Proudly calling themselves the "Asiatic Brethren, many of the lodge brothers, including members of the highest Austrian nobility, gave themselves secret Hebrew names. For example, "Ben-Jakhin," also known as "Abraham" and "Israel," was none other than Count Hans Heinrich von Ecker und Eckhofen. 9 Jewish orientalism was a public relations gamble aimed at investing the Jew with the romantic aura of oriental wisdom. It worked for the Jewish Masons in Austria and elsewhere as it did for Disraeli in England because it articulated the quest for Jewish dignity in the language of the contemporary bourgeois effort to rearticulate the aristocratic principle of descent in terms not of family but of race.

7

8 9

Grand Dictionnaire Universet du λ'/λ τ siècle. Paris: Administration du G r a n d Dictionnaire Universel, vol. 11, 1466. T h e preface of this work is dated 1865, but in vol. 11 mention is made of the eighteen-seventies. Pg. 1466. T h e case of the "Asiaric Brethren" of Vienna is explored in Katz, J. 1970. Jews and Freemasons in Europe 1723-1939. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Backlash The public relation ploy did not always work. Disraeli never ceased to be the target of vicious anti-Jewish attack, and the jokes about his mystic orientalism eventually made it unto the relatively respectable pages of a satirical magazine like Punch. T h e Asiatic Brethren were not only ridiculed but severely derided by the authorities, and the lodge eventually had to close down. In 1850, Richard Wagner wrote a pamphlet on "Jewry and Music," deriding what he saw as the noxious influence of the Jews. But the voice of the detractors was still relatively still. Wagner was much better known for his music (some performed by Jewish conductors) than for his diatribes against the Jews. Ernest Renan, author of the famous Life of Jesus (1863), was far better known than any self-confessed Jewhater. When he wrote about the Semites, including the Jews, his negative prejudices were widely ignored in favor of what appeared to be a positive assessment. Indeed, it was during the middle of the century that Jewish orientalism reached its untroubled peak. I have already alluded to the myriad of synagogues in the orientalist or "Moorish" style that were erected all over the Western world by modernizing Jewish congregations. The first was the Great Synagogue of the City in Vienna, erected in 1852. Other famous "Moorish" edifices were the Central Synagogue of Budapest (1853), the Oranienburgenstrasse Synagogue in Berlin, built between 1855 and 1866, the Cologne Synagogue (1861), the Central Synagogues of L o n d o n (1860), Florence (1880) and St. Petersburg (1893), and in the United States, Temple Emanu-El of N e w York (1868), Rodeph Shalom of Philadelphia (1869-1870), and the Plum Street Temple of Cincinnati (1868). The Plum Street Temple came complete with thirteen domes and two minarets. Yet, while these curious masterpieces were being built, the orientalist dialectic began to show its exclusionist potential. T h e noble Jew's role as an icon is to represent the idealized Other, not to become accepted by Gentile society. Oliv1er Cohen-Steiner suggests that it is this fact that forces Scott's Rebecca and her father to emigrate to Muslim Spain, a move for which lvanhoe gives no other justification. 10 Even in the most flattering portrayal of the Jew as Oriental there is the hidden suggestion that the Jew belongs elsewhere, outside the West. This dialectic of separateness resulted in the dialogical development of both andSemitism and Zionism. T h e spark set off by Wagner and others such as the literary critic, Konrad Menzel, led to an explosion of anti-Jewish feeling in the unsetded economic climate of the late nineteenth century. First the infamous Panama Canal scandal and then the more far-reaching Dreyfus Affair appeared to many to provide tangible evidence of a Jewish conspiracy against the Christian world. AntiSemitism became an almost fashionable pseudo-science. It was heavily equipped with hateful scientistic metaphors, as when soon after Koch's discovery of the

10

Cohen-Steiner, O . 1994. Le regard de l'autre: Le juif dans le roman anglais 1800-1900. sitaires de Nancy, 184—185.

Presses Univer-

bacillus the Jews were described as invisible agents of disease, attacking Europe's body politic.

Semitism and Anti-Semitism N o w that romantic Semitism had been turned into exclusionist anti-Semitism, most Jews veered away from Jewish orientalism. "Oriental" and "Asiatic" became pejorative synonyms of "Jew." During the notorious "Berliner Antisemitismusstreif ' of 1879-1880, the historian von Treitschke, who led anti-Semitic academies, liked to refer to the Jewish spokesperson, Graetz, as "an oriental who neither does nor wants to understand our People." 11 For most Jews, this turn of events meant the end of the desire to be seen, and to see oneself, as orientals. Fewer and fewer Moorish synagogues were built after the outbreak of World War I, when separate racial origins were not a particularly desirable symbolic commodity on either side of the conflict. Hardly any Moorish synagogues were built after Hider's rise to power in 1933—even though the Moorish style continued to be used, blended with art deco, for places of entertainment, and, in particular, cinemas. It is telling that the famous Temple Emmanu-El of N e w York, spiritual home of the city's most privileged and fashionable Jews, had been built in orientalist style in 1868. When in 1929 the congregation moved to its current location at Fifth Avenue and Sixty-fifth Street, it was rebuilt in an eclectic mixture of neo-Gothic and art deco. There was, nevertheless, early in the century a significant minority among the Jews w h o decided to continue contesting the image of the Jew as oriental. The anti-Semites have turned what seemed to be a flattering portrait into an instrument of contempt and hatred towards the Jew. The Zionists were prepared to reply. They asserted their oriental separateness with pride, agreeing that there was no place for Jews in Europe and seeking a return to the Orient.

Martin Buber and Orientalist Zionism The chief ideological spokesman of this late Jewish orientalism was Martin Buber, the noted existentialist and neo-Hassidic philosopher. The clearest outline of Buber's orientalism came in his 1912 speech entided "The Spirit of the Orient and Judaism." In it, he argued that the Orient, comprising China, India, the Arab world as well as the Jew, was a consistent, distinctive unit distinguishable from the West in terms of its mental characteristics. The Occidental was a sensoriscber Mensch, while the Oriental, including the Jew, was a motorischer Mensch. This speech was given to his devoted followers at the Bar Kokhba Association of Jewish University Students in Prague. Franz Kafka was a member of the Assodation, though probably a rather marginal one. His friend Max Brod was, as usual, more enthusiastic, and contributed an essay to a volume put out by the association, in which Buber's orientalist ideas were echoed by several authors, whose contributions carried tides such as "the Jew as Oriental."

11

T h e exchange is reprinted in Boehlich, W. ed. 1988. Der Berliner Antisemitismusstreit. Frankfurt am Main: Insel Verlag.

The young authors demonstrated, as did Buber, that in their view the Zionist setder in Palestine was not only a returning Jew, but also a returning Oriental. Buber himself eventually setded in Palestine. As far as his Jewish orientalism was concerned, he was not alone among the Zionist settlers. Many early Jewish settlers sported Arab headwear. Some wore original clothing designs blending elements of the Jewish tallis or prayer shawl with the Arab Palesdnian tunic. At the same time, Jewish setdement in Palestine was "orientalist imperialism" in the now classic sense of Edward Said's work 12 . The Zionists employed an orientalist ideology to justify their rule in an oriental country already inhabited by oriental "natives." Even more to the point, they formulated that ideology without no, or next to no, input from the "natives" w h o were to be affected by their rule. Yet the parallel between the orientalism of the European colonizing powers and the orientalism of the Jews, Zionist and otherwise, has important limitadons. Unlike the colonial powers, the orientalist Zionists were not primarily motivated by the desire to exploit an exotic land and the labour of its people. As Buber argued, " O u r setders do not come here as do the colonists from the Occident to have natives do their work for them; they themselves set their shoulders to the plow and they spend their strength and their blood to make the land fruitful." 13 Buber and those like him did not think of themselves as Occidental colonists, but rather as Orientals coming home to the East. This led to his conviction that only a binational state, to be shared equally by Arab and Jew, could provide a just solution to the problems of the Palestine Mandate. Buber came to head a commission that sought ways to make such a binational arrangement a reality. T o other Jews, of course, oriental and "Asiatic" became pejorative terms for some despised Other, as they had by and large become for the Gentiles. When Hannah Arendt was covering the Eichmann trial, she described the people she saw outside the courthouse as an "oriental mob, as if one were in Istanbul or some other half-Asiatic country." 14 (The orientals she was referring to were Jews, not Arabs, of w h o m there could not have been many around the courthouse. Given that "half-Asiatic" had been a favourite German pejorative for Russia 15 , it is hard to know if Arendt meant to insult the Jews of oriental origin, or the equally despised East European Ostjuden.) More significandy, negative

12

13

14

15

Said, E. W. 1979. Orientalism. N e w York: Vintage Books. The book has elicited a huge response, both posidve and negadve, across the humanities and social sciences. The historically obvious fact that orientalism was experienced mosdy as a positive depiction of the East is utilized by J o h n M. MacKenzie (1995) in his critique of Said: Orientalism: Histoiy, Theory and the Arts. Manehester and New York: Manchester University Press. Buber, M. 1963. "The Land and Its Possessors." In Israel and the World: Essays in a Time of Crisis. N e w York: Schocken, 2 ed., 233. Source: Open letter to Gandhi. The Bond. Jerusalem, 1939,1-22. Quoted by A m o s Elon, " T h e Case of Hannah Arendt." The New York Review of hooks. Vol. 46, number 17, N o v e m b e r 6,1997, 26. According to Mendes-Flohr 1991: 82-3, the term Hath-Asien was coined to refer to the then Austrian, now Polish province of Galicia by the Viennese Jewish author Karl Emil Franzos. Franzos, a native of Galicia himself, was full of contempt for Galician Jews. In Austria-Hungary, "Galician" meant a typical Ostjude.

orientalist rhetoric came to inform much of the debate in Israel on policy towards the Arabs. Today it is c o m m o n to hear Israelis of both European and Middle Eastern origin to speak of the "Arab mentality" in much the same way that late nineteenth century European anti-Semites spoke of the Jewish mind. Prominent in such Israelis' narratives are secretive conspiracies and the alleged untrustworthiness and bloodthirsty, implacable enmity of their Semitic cousins. Such discourse no longer belongs to Jewish orientalism but to the brazenly racist variety of orientalism plain and simple. I hope to have shown, however, that there were other varieties as well. Among the complexities of the issue was that often the "orientals" themselves espoused the romantic orientalist vision of themselves. This was surely true not only of the Jews, but others such as Indians and Arabs as well.

H I S T O R I O G R A P H Y O N M O D E R N JEWRY IN G E R M A N Y AFTER 1 9 4 5 URI R. KAUFMANN Dossenheim, Heidelberg, Germany

Preconditions The first time a German government funded the study of Jewish History was in 1936—the same year in which the Research Department for the Jewish Question of the Reichsinstitut für die Geschichte des neuen Deutschlands was inaugurated in Munich. 1 After 1939 similar institutions were established in Paris, Bordeaux, Genova, Bologna, Zagreb, Budapest and Cracow (Referat Judenfrage of the Institutfür deutsche Ostforschung in 1940). In 1939 "German Christians," known for their pro-Nazi view, established an Institute for Research and Elimination of the Jewish Influence on the German Ecclesisastical Ufe on the famous Wartburg, once the domicile of Martin Luther. 2 The founder of this Institute, Werner Grundmann, at one time professor for völkische (national-racist) theology in Jena, continued his career in the later G D R , where he published commentaries on the gospels. Gerhard Kittel, his colleague from Tübingen, had been responsible for Ancient Judaism within the Reichsinstitut> Karl Heinrich Rengstorf, who later became one of the initiators of Jewish Studies in the Bundesrepublik, had been one of his assistants. Kittel's attitude towards Otto Michel (the second professor of Protestant theology opening an Institutum Judaicum after 1945) who came to Tübingen in 1940 has not been examined as yet.4

Institutions We will refer to research on Jewish History between 1500 to 1933. Hereby the topics anti-Judaism resp. antisemitism will only be relevant in terms of stimulating studies on Jewish History. 5 Denazification in post-war Germany stopped at a low level because of the strategical use the Western allies had for Germany.

1

2

‫ג‬ 4 5

S c h o c h o w , W. 1969. Deutsch-jüdische Geschichtswissenschaft. Berlin, 170. With reference to Max Weinreich, Hitler's Professor, N e w York 1946, 173. S c h o c h o w 1969: 171 f. See the a n n o u n c e d works of Mrs. Siegele-Wenschkewitz, L e o n o r e , Heschel, Susannah, v o n Papen, Franziska. In Arbeitsinformationen no. 16, K ö l n 1998. S c h o c h o w 1969: 171 f. Kürschners GeUhrtenkalender. Berlin 1970, 1976, 2396. Z i m m e r m a n n , M. 1990. "Jewish History and Historiography: A Challenge to C o n t e m p o r a r y G e r m a n Historiography." In LBI-YB 35, 3 5 - 5 2 ; Idem. 1997. Die deutschen Juden 1914-1945. M ü n c h e n , 3 6 - 3 9 ; Herzig, Α. 1987. "Juden u n d J u d e n t u m in der sozialgeschichtlichen Forschung." In Sosjalgeschichte in Deutschland. E d . W. Schieder and V. Sellin. Bd. 4, G ö t t i n g e n , 1 0 8 132, Volkov, S. 1994. Die Juden in Deutschland 1780-1918, M ü n c h e n , 7 8 - 8 1 , see also Schäfer, P. 1990. Die Entwicklung der Judaistik in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland seit 1945, Die sog. GeisteswisenSchäften: Innenansichten. F r a n k f u r t , 352.

It is only today that a closer look is being taken at the activities prior to 1945 of leading history professors of the later Bundesrepublik. The famous Werner Conze and Theodor Schieder both gave ideological advise for "Lebensraum" policies in the German East, which included, after 1939, the suggestion of "dejudaization" of market towns in Lithuania and Poland. 6 Some personal correspondence written during the 1950s still displays the old antisemitic prejudice of Jewish domination of free professions. Seen in this context, one can explain that Jewish history was not promoted, only instrumentalized as a tool of legitimization, e.g. the patronage of Schieder—then professor in Cologne—to the exhibidon Monumenta Judaica in Cologne in 1963/64, which invoked much public interest in Jewish history, religion and culture. Evangelical theologians (NonCatholic) did more to further research. In Münster Rengstorf engaged Bernhard Brilling (1906-1982) in 1958, a rabbi and former archivist of the Jewish community of Breslau. 7 Brilling was the most productive researcher on Jewish history in the young Bundesrepublik. In Tübingen, O t t o Michel invited Jewish scholars (Martin Buber, David Flusser, Kurt Wilhelm, Gershon Shaked, Penina Navé, Jehuda Aschkenasy) before 1967 and sought a new appraisal of the Jewish context of the New Testament. 8 But he also established contacts to émigrés and supervised the deciphering of Hebrew inscriptions of the rural cemetery of Buttenhausen, two prominent topics now. In Mayence, the Protestant faculty established a chair for Jewish studies and invited rabbi Prof. Leo Trepp on a permanent basis. Other universities had great difficulties in integrating even a mere lectureship into its structure: thus the lectures held by Max Meir Sprecher in the 1950s, a Jewish survivor of Warsaw and a physicist, were paid by interchanging institutes of the Heidelberg University. It seems strange that collaborators of the Nazi system were able to publish their somewhat cleansed works in the early 1950s.9 In 1959 citizens of Cologne established a library on German-Jewish history, the Bibliothek Germania Judaica, a big exhibition on Jewish History and Culture followed 1963/4 and here also the first Institute for Jewish Studies was established in 1964. Young scholars had to turn to Vienna to Prof. Kurt Schubert to receive professional training. 10 The Institute for the History of German Jem in Hamburg began its activities the following year, it was headed by an émigré, Heinz Moshe Graupe. In 1952, Adolf Leschnitzer started to teach summer courses in Jewish History at the Free University of Berlin, other former German-Jewish scholars visited various German universities in the 1960s and 1970s.11 Jewish History was being re-imported from the USA and Israel. In the latter country 6 7

8 9

10 11

Aly, G . 1997. Macht-Geist-Wahn. Kontinuitäten deutschen Denkens. Berlin, 153-183. Neufeld, S. 1974. "Rabbiner Dr. Brilling in Münster [zu seiner E r n e n n u n g als Obercustos in Westfalen]." In Zeitschrift fur die Geschichte der Juden 4, no. 2 / 3 , 155-158; Freimark, P. et al. eds. 1988. Gedenkschnft Benhard Brilling. Hamburg, 9-13, see his bibliography (about 360 rides) and the periodical Theokratia of the Munster Institut. Michel, Ο. 1967. "Das Insdtutum Judaicum der Unversität Tübingen." Attempto 22, 21. Schnee, H. 1953 ff. Die Hoffman^ und der moderne Staat. Wiesbaden, and Kellenbenz, H. 1953. Sephardim an der untern Elbe. Wiesbaden. Schubert, K. 1974. 25 Jahre Judaistik an der Universität Wien. Typoscr. Wien, 5 (Unpubl.). Jütte, R. 1991. Die Emigration der deutschsprachigen Wissenschaft des Judentums. Stuttgart.

German students could perfect their Hebrew knowledge. The Catholic and Protestant churches give stipendia for this aim to some 40 students per year. Between 1964 and 1975 some major dissertations on German Jewish history were published. Work on the encyclopaedia of medieval Jewish communities, interrupted in 1934, was resumed in the 1970s and some of the collaborators continued with their Jewish topic including also the modern period (e.g. Friedrich Battenberg). A new restricted research program concentrates on two areas of the 16th century. Its German coordinator, Prof. Alfred Haverkamp of Trier managed to establish an Institute for Jewish History in 1996 dedicated to the medieval epoch. In 1979 the College for Jewish Studies in Heidelberg was established. N o State academic institution under Jewish patronage had ever existed in Germany before, the country which was once the center of the Science of Judaism. Most visiting professors did not leave a lasting imprint. However, the faculty with five chairs being the biggest in Germany was stabilized in the 1980s, and received the right to confer Ph.D.s in 1994. Since 1988 Jewish history has been taught on a continuous basis. The Technical University of Berlin added its Zentrum für Antisemitismusforschung [Center for Researching Antisemitism) in 1982, Jewish history being one of three teaching areas as well.12 One year later Prof. Schäfer gave a new impetus to the Seminary ofJewish Studies of the Berlin Free University. Another stimulus came from Duisburg, where a former group of researchers had managed to establish another Institute on German-Jewish culture under the name of Salomon Ludwig Steinheim in the year 1986. Unfortunately, it survived only four years, since the two professors had become more and more active outside the institute. It was however, revitalized in 1995. Plans to revive Jewish Studies in the former G D R led to a chair in Halle and an Institute in Leipzig after 1989. The latter was to specialize in the research of Middle-European Jewish History. In Potsdam a second curriculum of Jewish Studies was established in 1994 by Prof. Julius Schoeps from the Duisburg Institute. Topics of Jewish history were taught at other places, e.g. Zionism at the Theology Department of the University of Greifswald. In the West, the Hamburg Institute enlarged its conception in 1995. Another chair of Jewish History was established in Munich in 1997. The intensification of research is also apparent in the publication of four German periodicals after 1987/89 dealing mosdy or pardy with historical problems. O n the other side, the émigré journal Historia Judaica had merged in 1961 with the Revue des Etudes Juives, the Israeli Zeitschrift für die Geschichte der Juden of Hugo Gold ceased its publication and the Leo Baeck Institute Bulletin edited in Israel was discontinued in 1991. Thus after years of stimulating research in Germany, the Leo Baeck Institute was faced with some competition for its prèstigious London based Year Book.

12

European Association for Jewish Studies/A. Winkelmann eds. 1998. Directory of Jewish Studies in Europe. Oxford, 38 f.

O n e cannot contest that the Jewish Studies in Germany after 1945 emerged from Protestant theology, a theology which had developed a strong anti-Jewish bias before the Shoah.3‫ י‬The first generation of researchers receiving theological training, were interested mainly in the time period of Jesus. The old tradidon of Jewish Studies as auxiliary to N e w Testament research—not as a discipline of its own—was continued. Rengstorf in Münster used the term "Institutum Judaicum" and adopted the tradition of the Berlin and Leipzig academic and missionary institutes closed down by the Nazis. He even served as president of the Lutheran society for missions among the Jews. The Hamburg Jewish community considered this an obstacle when Rengstorf also wanted to become director of the mentioned Institut für die Geschichte der deutschen Juden in 1963.14 Also one leading promoter of the later Duisburg Institute, Heinz Kremers, hoped that a new Protestant theology might attract Jews. 15 The University of Göttingen still used the 1950s term of "late" Judaism, referring to the period of Jesus during which Judaism had been "subsdtuted" or "replaced" by Christianity, according to the wishful thinking of the old anti-Jewish theology. After the at least institutional emancipation of Jewish Studies from Christian theology in the 1960s, focus moved from the N e w Testament to later epochs. A younger generation was interested in other and later periods of Jewish literature, e.g. Peter Schäfer and Michael Brocke. The Talmud Yerushalmi is edited and translated, mystical texts after Qumran (Hecha/oth literature, Hassidei Ashkenas, Piyyut etc.) played and play a role. In the realm of history proper, immediately after the war, the remembering of the victims was important, but such publications stopped around 1950. Jewish History did not include much regional and local history until the 1970s. Visiting Jews had to take the initiative to get publications on local Jewish history printed. The older generation of local historians still clung to their prejudices. They tried to find legitimation of former "Rassenkunde" and without thorough comparative research the economic activity of rural Jews was often condemned by the expression "Schacher," deceitful petty trade. The harmonious relations between Christians and Jews were often stressed, their breakdown was not explained or attributed to obscure "bad outside influences." In 1962 Baden-Württemberg the first wide-range research project on the fate of its Jews during the Nazi period was launched. In addition information was collected from secondary sources of the period before 1933 going back as far as the 18th century. 16 The model of the Pinkassei haKehilloth of Yad vaShem was

13

14

15 16

Schäfer 1991: 352. O n e should also reckon with this fact, not only with the problems of "methods, aims and demands". Freimark, P. 1991. " V o m Umgang mit der Geschichte einer Minderheit, Vorgeschichte und G r ü n d u n g des Insdtuts für die Geschichte der deutschen Juden." In Juden in Deutschland. Ed. P. Freimark. Hamburg, 466-477. Kremers, H. 1965. Das Verhältnis der Kirche ç» Israel. Düsseldorf, 28, 30. Dokumentationsstelle zur Erforschung der Schicksale jüdischer Bürger in Baden-Württemberg 1933-45. Results published in Veröffentlichungen der staatlichen Archivverwaltung Baden-Württemberg by

known but realized earlier (1966/68). Nevertheless, the Jewish institutions were not systematically treated as it was done in the Hebrew Pinkas for Baden Württemberg in 1986. A similar, mosdy documentary multi-volume presentation was prepared by the archives of Rheinland-Pfalz/Saarland. Two rabbis, Zvi Asaria and Hans Chanoch Meyer, collected information on their regions of interest (Westphalia, Lower Saxony), Bavaria joining later a somewhat similar undertaking.17 Specific commissions were formed in Hessen in 1963 (one for the city of Frankfurt, one for the Land of Hessia, the latter having a distinguished series of publications of its own 18 ). The Berlin Historical Commission had a department for German-Jewish history and published several studies.19 When the famous students movement of 1968 called for an investigation of the past of the fathers, the nazi period became central, not so much Jewish history. Benevolent professors in Heidelberg had to send students to lectures on Jewish rites in order to not frustrate the lecturer. The protest movement understood itself as radically secular. In the late 1970s, gready influenced by the screening of the film "Shoah" in January 1979, a movement rescuing surviving synagogues began in Southern Germany. Such activity often led to regional research. Students and "Bildungsbürger" (cultured citizens) who had left the centers of the cities revealed the remnants of the Jewish past at their new place of living, be it a cemetery or the building of a former synagogue. As newcomers they felt free to research while the local population disliked too much investigation into the not so distant past, which could lead to leading families being compromised. But even these activities were characterized by a great distance to Judaism and Jewish history. Though lacking even basic knowledge the writers often felt obliged to present their readers with an elaborate introduction to Judaism. 20 Starting in the 1970s public pressure led to the invitation of émigrés and local researchers began to show interest in the perspective of the persecuted rather than the persecutors. Regional historians began to inquire into the time before 1933. History written by politicians often presented a harmonious picture. Many of them using it as a means to come to terms with it ("bewältigen"), but the Shoah does not lend itself to such an undertaking. Pardy a naive neoromantic veneration of Eastern European Hasidism—the philosemitic version of the age-old Protestant condemnation of Judaism as ceremonial law without religiosity—had its imprint on historiography, not realizing that patterns of acculturation and secularization in Germany differed much from the patterns found in Eastern Europe.

17

18

19 20

W. Kohlhammer/Stuttgart, see e.g.: Die jüdischen Gemeinden in Baden, resp. in Württemberg und Hohen^pllern. Stuttgart 1966/68. G u t h , K. 1988. ]üdische Landgemeinden in Oberfranken 1800-1942. Bamberg. Eva Gross-Lau was unfortunately not able to read Hebrew, while treadng traditionalist rural Franconian Jewry, see her Jüdisches Kulturgut auf dem Land. München 1995, 29, ref. 101 printed stars replacing the Hebrew! Kommission fur die Geschichte der Juden in Hessen, Pressemitteilung. Wiesbaden 1983, typewritten. Schochow 1969, 252 (Since 1959 Referat für Kulturgeschichte). Richarz, M. 1991. " L u f t a u f n a h m e — o d e r die Schwierigkeiten der Heimatforscher mit der jüdischen Geschichte." Babylon 8, 27-33.

In the former communist German Democratic Republic (GDR), Jewish history had never been a topic. After the antisemidc Prague Slansky trial in 1953 Jews feared to be linked with Zionism and fled as Jewish acdviries were suspected of being pro-Zionist and nonallegiant. Being aware of the West German insdtutes it was probably for competitive reasons that a chair for Hebrew was established in 1965. However, only a restricted number of students had access (2-5 in 4 years), helping the Foreign Office translating the Israeli press. 21 As in the West, the Protestant church served as haven for semi-clandestine discussion groups with interest in Jewish themes in the 1970s and 1980s. This suddenly changed in 1989 as the central committee of the communist party ordered studies on Jewish history to be published in order to "prepare" the way to the US-government by contacting functionaries of the World Jewish Congress. That same year, two young researchers were imprisoned. They had discovered too much evidence during their research concerning the destruction of Jewish cemeteries by G D R authorities. After 1990 the remnants of the former General Archives of the German Jem—formerly controlled by the Communist Central Archives—became accessible to researchers. History of Jewish organizations and communities can now be much better documented. Organisations such as the Deutsch-Israelitische Gemeindebund, Bne Brith, teachers associations, etc. are waiting for studies to become available. The majority of 160 regional and local studies registered in the 1998 listing (Arbeitsinformationen) of the Cologne library is undertaken in Germany. O f course, there is much redundancy and authors have difficulties in recognizing particular and important features. Sometimes there is even no knowledge of Jewish encyclopedias and lexica or of the Leo Baeck Year Book with its most important bibliography. Since a group of history professors today is ready to accept dissertations on topics of German-Jewish history but feel themselves no experts in the field, counseling and exchange of information had to be organized in a centralized way. This was done in the 1990s by Prof. Rürup of Berlin with the aid of a private foundation, the Reimers Stiftung. N o matter how severe the criticism it would be most unfair not to admit that progress has been made. In the 1980s a generation of students with a knowledge of Hebrew made its appearance. Today, editing the Hebrew inscriprions on Jewish tombstones is a major theme of research, especially promoted by Prof. Michael Brocke of Duisburg. The numbers of students has increased, e.g. in Heidelberg from 16 in 1979 to 161 in 1997. Books have been translated from German into Hebrew or English, e.g. Graupe's intellectual history of Modern Jewry or the collection of memoirs edited by Monika Richarz. She and Prof. Stefi Jersch-Wenzel were asked to contribute to the four-volume history of German speaking Jews (Munich 1997/98) which is published in English, Hebrew, and German. The lack of proficiency in Hebrew is especially apparent in medieval history. Thus studies on legal status, migration and persecution history still prevail in this domain. 22 Only few authors know to translate Israeli

21 22

Guide 1998: 38. T o c h , M. 1998. Die Juden im mittelalterlichen Reich. München, 47-74.

research. Here Germany could not reestablish a whole field of research being important before the Shoah. O n e has to ponder the fact that German professors of medieval history have intimate knowledge of Ladn, Greek and medieval layers of many modern languages, but Hebrew seems to be marginal for them unless there exists a hidden psychological barrier. A curious and unique p h e n o m e n o n found in German academic tradition is the predominance of theological faculties in field of research of ancient Near East. This is quite a sensitive subject and creates a problematic situation since non-Christian students or graduates are refused immatriculation and secular comparative religious studies are not very much developed in this country. This privileged status is much questioned today. Research of the modern period is still mainly confined to Germany. French, N o r t h African, Polish or other East-European or Balkan Jewry and the Sefardic heritage are neglected as is American Jewry. However, compared to the situation fifty years ago, research in modern Jewish history in Germany today, at the turn of the century, has to be taken seriously, despite some still existing inadequacies.

D I E A U S W I R K U N G E N DER EMANZIPATIONSGESETZGEBUNG AUF DIE J Ü D I S C H E N L A N D G E M E I N D E N IM H E R Z O G T U M S A C H S E N - M E I N I N G E N 1811 BIS 1871 1 A N N A - R U T H LÖWENBRÜCK Haus der Geschichte Baden-Württemberg, Stuttgart, Germany

Bis in die zweite Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts lebte die Mehrheit der deutschen J u d e n auf dem Lande. Jüdische Landgemeinden existierten in Bayern, Baden, Hessen, dem Rheinland, der Pfalz, in Württemberg und Thüringen, und zwar meist in Dörfern, die vor 1806 reichsritterschaftliche oder geistliche Territorien gewesen waren. Das gilt auch für das thüringische Herzogtum SachsenMeiningen. In diesem kleinen Herzogtum stellten die J u d e n im Jahre 1833/34 mit 1524 Personen 1,06% der Bevölkerung. Seit dem 17. Jahrhundert lebten sie ausschließlich in acht Landgemeinden und der Residenzstadt Hildburghausen. Typisch für ihre rechtliche und wirtschaftliche Lage vor 1808 war, daß sie unter dem Schutz verschiedener Patrimonialherren standen und dafür hohe Abgaben zu zahlen hatten, daß sie von Handwerk und Ackerbau ausgeschlossen waren, aber in religiösen Dingen Autonomie genossen. Sie konnten ihre Rabbiner frei wählen und ihr Gemeindeleben nach ihrer Tradition organisieren. In den D ö r fern, in denen ihre Vorfahren einst A u f n a h m e gefunden hatten, stellten sie ein Viertel bis ein Drittel der Einwohner und lebten räumlich in großer Nähe zur christlichen Bevölkerung. So entwickelte sich in diesen D ö r f e r n im Laufe der Jahrhunderte eine spezifische jüdische Volkskultur, wie es sie in ähnlicher F o r m auch in anderen süd- und südwestdeutschen Regionen und im Elsaß gab.

Die sozialen und wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse in den jüdischen Landgemeinden um 1800 Diese jüdischen D o r f b e w o h n e r ernährten sich in der Regel v o m Handel mit Vieh, Fellen und Häuten, sie waren Kleinkreditgeber und Hausierer. Unter der Woche zogen die Männer von D o r f zu D o r f , versorgten die ländliche Bevölkerung mit all jenen Dingen des täglichen Gebrauchs, die man in endegenen D ö r f e r n und auf den einsamen H ö f e n der Rhön und des Thüringer Waldes nicht selbst herstellen konnte, aber auch mit luxuriöseren Produkten wie seidenen Bändern, Tressen, K n ö p f e n , mit Uhren, Büchern, Kalendern—und mit den neusten Neuigkeiten. Frauen, Alte und Kinder blieben unter der Woche Dieser Kurzbeitrag geht basiert auf meiner noch unveröffentlichten Forschungsarbeit zu dem Thema "Zwischen Assimilation und Auswanderung. Zur politischen, sozialen und wirtschaftlichen Geschichte der jüdischen Landgemeinden des Herzogtums Sachsen-Meiningen 18111871."

allein auf dem Dorf. Die Mehrheit dieser jüdischen D o r f b e w o h n e r lebte zur Miete in Häusern, die der entsprechenden Herrschaft gehörten. Zur Selbstversorgung hielt man sich ein paar Hühner, Ziegen oder Gänse. Wie die christlichen D o r f b e w o h n e r so wurden auch die jüdischen zu gewissen Zeiten zu Frondiensten bei der Herrschaft herangezogen. Im Nachhinein ist es schwer, die wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse dieser Dorfbewohner einzuschätzen. Durch einen glücklichen Zufall sind uns jedoch umfangreiche Erhebungsdaten aus den Jahren 1808 und 1812 erhalten geblieben, die uns eine Einschätzung erlauben. Man kann davon ausgehen, daß sie in etwa die Realität widerspiegeln. Aus ihnen wird ersichtlich, daß von den etwa 1000 Juden, die damals in den sachsen-meiningischen Dörfern lebten, je nach Dorf zwischen 47% und 90% als Hausierer, Mäkler oder Altwarenhändler unter dem Existenzminimum lebten mit einem Jahreseinkommen von weniger als 80 Rthl (Reichsthaler) im Jahr. Z u m Vergleich: Um 1800 verdiente ein christlicher Handwerker in der Stadt zwischen 150 und 300 Rthl im Jahr—womit ihm ein bescheidenes Auskommen garantiert war—ein Minister am herzoglichen Hof etwa 1200 Rthl. Besonders Witwen waren von der Armut betroffen: sie hielten sich in der Regel mit Betteln und Stricken über Wasser, wenn sie nicht von ihren Kindern unterstützt werden konnten. Sieben der acht Dörfer hatten eine jüdische Bevölkerung von etwa 30 bis 100 Personen, die größte Gemeinde, Walldorf an der Werra, die nahe der herzoglichen Residenzstadt Meiningen gelegen war, zählte 432 Mitglieder. N u r in dieser größten Gemeinde gab es eine sehr kleine Gruppe von wirklich wohlhabenden Gemeindemitgliedern, deren Einkommen zwischen 1000 und 2500 Rthl im Jahr betrug und die ihr Brot vor allem mit überregionalem Tuch- und Spezereiwarenhandel, aber auch mit Viehhandel im großen Stil, verdienten. Darüber hinaus existierte nur noch in einer einzigen Gemeinde eine Gruppe mit einem mittleren Jahreseinkommen von etwa 200 bis 600 Rthl im Jahr. In allen anderen Gemeinden aber lag das Einkommensmaximum bei etwa 100 bis 200 Rthl im Jahr. Die absolute Mehrheit der jüdischen Bevölkerung SachsenMeiningens war also sehr arm. Diese wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse wirkten sich auch auf das Heiratsverhalten der Dorfbevölkerung aus. Da junge Männer, um einen eigenen Hausstand zu gründen, die Erlaubnis des Grundherrn und ein ausreichendes Einkommen benötigten, heirateten sie meist recht spät. Das Heiratsalter lag bei Männern zwischen 25 und 35 Jahren und bei Frauen zwischen 24 und 32 Jahren. Die Frauen waren häufig älter als die Männer, was auch in der christlichen ländlichen Gesellschaft nicht selten vorkam. In der Regel wurden Ehen durch Vermittlung geschlossen. Die Ehepartner stammten entweder aus den Nachbargemeinden oder aus Orten, zu denen man Handelsbeziehungen unterhielt. Die meisten jüdischen Frauen gebaren ihr erstes Kind nach ihrem 25. Lebensjahr. Die durchschnittliche Kinderzahl konnte nicht genau errechnet werden, da nur solche Kinder in den Statistiken auftauchen, die zur Erhebungs-zeit anwesend waren. Man kann aber von einem Durchschnittswert von etwa 2>—A Kindern pro Familie ausgehen. Die Zahl illegitimer Geburten war in diesen Dörfern im Vergleich zur christlichen Bevölkerung ausgesprochen gering. In der größten Gemeinde, in Walldorf, lag sie bei 2,3%, in christlichen Gemeinden

konnte sie bis zu 13% betragen. Die jungen Männer und Frauen, die keinen Ehepartner fanden, verdingten sich meist in anderen Dörfern oder auch in der Fremde, wie z.B. in Frankfurt am Main, in wohlhabenderen jüdischen Häusern als Mägde, Dienstmädchen, Diener oder Knechte. Viele junge Männer blieben aber so lange als Teilhaber oder Bedienstete im Geschäft ihres Vaters tätig, bis sie dieses allein oder gemeinsam mit ihren Geschwistern übernehmen konnten. Überhaupt wohnten häufig mehrere Generationen einer Familie in einem Haus zusammen. Wohnraum war auch auf den Dörfern knapp und teuer. Nicht selten führten in diesen Landgemeinden die Frauen nach dem Tode ihrer Ehemänner das Geschäft weiter, solange ihre Gesundheit es zuließ. Manchmal übernahmen es auch alleinstehende Töchter, vor allem, wenn die Eltern gestorben oder arbeitsunfähig waren und sie selbst keine Heiratserlaubnis erhielten. Von den Gemeindeabgaben, deren Höhe alle drei Jahre nach dem Vermögensstand der Familien festgelegt wurde, wurde neben der Armenkasse und der Suppenküche für durchreisende jüdische Betder auch der Rabbiner, der Gemeindediener, die Totengräber, die Gemeindeboten und die Frauen, die die Mikwe betreuten, bezahlt. Organisiert waren die Gemeinden in jenen Jahren in Form einer Oligarchie. Zwar gab es eine Gemeindeversammlung, doch die Meinung der Wohlhabendsten und Zahlungskräftigsten hatte bei Entscheidüngen das größte Gewicht. Sie waren es auch, die in den meisten Fällen das Amt des Parnas übernahmen und die Gemeinde bei der Obrigkeit vertraten. Diese Gemeindestruktur war typisch für die Landgemeinden um die Wende vom 18. zum 19. Jahrhundert.

Das Emanzipationsgesetz von 1811 In jener Zeit aber begannen die äußeren Parameter für das Leben der jüdischen Gemeinden sich zu verändern. Unter dem Eindruck der napoleonischen Herrschaft erließen die mit Napoleon verbündeten deutschen Staaten, die "Rheinbundstaaten," zu denen auch Sachsen-Meiningen gehörte, Emanzipationsgesetze, die die rechtliche und politische Lage der Juden verbessern sollten. Im Gegensatz zu dem französischen Emanzipationsgesetz von 1791 waren diese deutschen Emanzipationsgesetze Er^tebungsgeset^e. Sie gingen von der zwar aufklärerischen, doch judenfeindlichen Prämisse aus, die Juden seien durch die jahrhundertelange Unterdrückung durch die Christen und ihre einseitige Berufsstruktur verderbt und daher nicht fähig, sofort alle bürgerlichen Rechte zu genießen. Der Handel, das traditionelle Berufsfeld der Juden, galt als "unproduktiv" im Gegensatz zu den produzierenden Gewerben wie den Handwerken. Auch das sachsen-meiningische Gesetz, das 1811 erlassen wurde, ging von dieser Prämisse aus. Es hatte eine Art "Umerziehung" der jüdischen Bewohner des Herzogtums zum Ziel, nach deren Abschluß ihnen die vollen Staats- und Gemeindebürgerrechte gewährt werden sollten. Dieses Gesetz brachte den Juden zwar einige Verbesserungen, d.h. es machte sie zu Staatsangehörigen, es öffnete ihnen all jene Berufe, von denen sie bis dahin ausgeschlossen waren, die Zünfte und Innungen, den Ackerbau, Künste und Wissenschaften, und es glich ihre

Steuern denen der Christen an. Andererseits unterwarf es sie strengen, diskriminierenden Beschränkungen: So konnte in einer Familie nur der Sohn heiraten, der einen anderen Beruf als den des Hausierers oder Händlers ergriff. Händler durfte nur der werden, der eine Kaufmannslehre abschloß und über ein bestimmtes Grundkapital verfügte. Die Aufnahme in Zünfte und Innungen wurde zwar erlaubt, doch hing sie von der Zustimmung der christlichen Mitglieder ab. Auch das Staatsbürgerrecht konnte ein Jude nur erlangen, wenn er einen handwerklichen, landwirtschaftlichen oder wissenschaftlichen Beruf und einen moralischen Lebenswandel nachzuweisen vermochte. E r mußte hierzu einen Antrag bei der Regierung stellen. Im Nachhinein kann man feststellen, daß die Neigung vorherrschte, solche Anträge abschlägig zu beantWorten. Tatsache ist, daß praktisch bis zur Jahrhundertmitte, also bis zur 1848er-Revolution, nur wenige Juden dieses Ziel erreichten. Des Weiteren blieb den Juden das Recht auf Freizügigkeit verwehrt. Wollten sie sich in einem anderen als ihrem Heimatort niederlassen, dann mußten sie Handwerksmeister oder Fabrikbesitzer sein und die Zustimmung der gesamten Stadt oder Gemeinde erhalten. So errichteten Juden zwar in zahlreichen Gemeinden und Städten Handelsniederlassungen, Bürger konnten sie dort aber nicht werden. Nach dem Patent sollten im D o r f die christliche und die jüdische Gemeinde als kirchliche und politische Einheiten nebeneinander bestehen, wobei dem Parnas nicht dieselben Rechte zugestanden wurden wie dem christlichen Bürgermeister, der z.B. allein die Polizeigewalt auf Dorfebene besaß. Die Vereinigung von christlicher und jüdischer Gemeinde zu einer politischen kommunalen Einheit wurde erst 1856 vollzogen. Weiterhin sah das Gesetz tiefgreifende Eingriffe in das religiöse Leben der jüdischen Gemeinden vor: Z u m einen sollte die deutsche Sprache in Form von Predigten im jüdischen Gottesdienst benutzt werden, zum anderen sollte ein Land-rabbiner angestellt werden, der unter staatlicher Aufsicht stehen und die Ideen der Aufklärung und Reform in die Gemeinden tragen sollte. Begabte junge Männer sollten an staatlichen Schulen zu Lehrern ausgebildet werden und später dann in den Gemeinden unterrichten. Für jüdische Kinder wurde die Schulpflicht eingeführt.

Die Folgen des Emanzipationsgesetzes Dieses Emanziparionsgesetz wurde von den jüdischen Gemeinden des Herzogtums scharf kritisiert. Man sah sich einer Fülle von Neuerungen und Beschränkungen gegenüber, ohne dafür mehr Rechte, vor allem das Staatsbürgerrecht, zu erhalten. Sie reichten eine gemeinsame Petition bei der Regierung ein, die jedoch abgewiesen wurde. Die Regierung wollte ihre Politik durchsetzen. Deren Ziel lautete: Aus den bis dahin außerhalb der christlichen Gesellschaft stehenden Juden, die jahrhundertelang als eigene Gruppe im Feudalsystem nach ihren eigenen Gesetzen und Traditionen gelebt hatten, sollten künftig sachsen-meiningische Bürger jüdischer Konfession werden. Und in der Tat, trotz vehementer Widerstände seitens der christlichen Bevöl-kerung wurde die mit dem Patent begonnene Politik in den folgenden Jahr-zehnten durchge-

setzt. Zwar blieb zunächst der größte Teil der jüdischen Männer aufgrund wirtschaftlicher Zwänge als Händler tätig. Denn gerade für Männer über 25 war es nahezu unmöglich, einen neuen Beruf zu erlernen. Aber die meisten bemühten sich, ihre Söhne bei einem Handwerksmeister in die Lehre zu geben—gegen den massiven Widerstand der christlichen Zünfte und Innungen. Manche kämpften Jahre, bis es ihnen gelang, einen Lehrmeister zu finden. Andere schickten ihre Söhne auf höhere Schulen und Universitäten, wieder andere engagierten Privadehrer. In den 1840er Jahren gab es auch im Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen den ersten jüdischen Rechtsanwalt, der Jahre um seine Approbation hatte kämpfen müssen. Der Staatsdienst blieb Juden jedoch weiterhin verschlossen. Aufgrund der wirtschaftlichen Krisen der 30er und 40er Jahre des 19. Jahrhunderts fanden nicht alle, die ein Handwerk gelernt hatten, eine Arbeit. So kam es zu der paradoxen Entwicklung, daß gerade die jungen, gut ausgebildeten jüdischen Männer verstärkt nach den USA auswan-derten. Dies sei am Beispiel der Stadt Hildburghausen verdeutlicht: Von 42 jungen Männern, die dort zwischen 1811 und 1834 geboren wurden, erlernten 24 ein Handwerk oder ergriffen einen akademischen Beruf: Sie wurden Gürtler, Uhrmacher, Gerber, Riemer, Beuder, Weber, Schuhmacher, Drechsler, Bürsten-binder, Goldarbeiter, Bildhauer, Buchbinder, Posamentier, Lehrer, Mediziner, Jurist, Mathematiker. 16 machten eine Kaufmannslehre, einer wurde Handelsmann, einer erlernte keinen Beruf. Zwei der jungen Männer verstarben früh, von den übrigen 40 fanden nur acht in ihrer Heimatstadt ein Auskommen, davon fünf Handwerker und drei Kaufleute. Von den übrigen befanden sich 1853 zehn in den USA, sechs in anderen europäischen Ländern, sieben in anderen deutschen Staaten, zwei in anderen meiningischen Orten, bei zweien ließ sich der neue Aufenthaltsort nicht feststellen. Das heißt, nur 25% aller jungen jüdischen Männer Hildburghausens blieben im Herzogtum Meiningen, 75% suchten hingegen ihr Glück in der Fremde. So erklärt sich, daß die Juden 1833 1,06% (1524 Personen) der Bevölkerung des Herzogtums stellten, 1870/71 jedoch nur noch 0,89% (1625 Personen). A b 1838 wurde ein Landrabbiner eingestellt, der einerseits eine traditionelle Rabbinerausbildung durchlaufen, andererseits aber auch eine Universität besucht hatte und der Reformbewegung anhing. Gegen den Widerstand traditionsbewußter Gemeindemitglieder achtete er darauf, daß die von Moses Mendelssohn und seinen Anhängern inspirierten Ideen der Reform auch in den Dörfern Fuß faßten. Er und seine Nachfolger hielten Visitationen ab, d.h. sie besuchten regelmäßig die Gemeinden, überprüften die Lage vor O r t und schrieben Berichte darüber für das herzogliche Konsistorium. Im Jahre 1844 wurde eine neue Gottesdienstordnung eingeführt, die der Landrabbiner Joseph H o f f mann ausgearbeitet hatte. Sie hatte im Grunde die Angleichung des jüdischen Gottes-dienstes an christliche Gepflogenheiten zum Ziel, vor allem aber die Benutzung der deutschen Sprache für Predigten, die Gründung von Synagogenchören und die Einführung von Disziplinarstrafen bei Störungen der Ordnung. Die meisten Gemeinden bemühten sich, diesen Vorgaben gerecht zu werden. Gerade die wohlhabenderen Gemeindemitglieder orientierten sich früh an städtischen bzw. stadtbürgerlichen Vorbildern.

Schon vor der Einstellung des Landrabbiners begannen die jüdischen Dorfgemeinden unter einem mehr oder minder großen Druck seitens der Regierung moderne Verwaltungsmechanismen in ihrer Gemeindeorganisation zu übernehmen. Seit den 1830er Jahren wurden protokollierte GemeindeVersammlungen abgehalten, man führte eine geregelte Buchhaltung ein und legte ein Archiv an (erhalten in den Central Archives for the History of the Jewish People, Jerusalem, und im Centrum Judaicum, Berlin). Etwa zur gleichen Zeit begann man mit der Führung von Personenstandsregistern. Anhand dieser erhaltenen Register läßt sich u.a. beobachten, daß die jüdischen D o r f b e w o h n e r Sachsen-Meiningens ihren Kindern seit den 40er Jahren des 19. Jahrhunderts verstärkt deutsche Namen gaben; die traditionell jüdischen Namen dienten meist nur noch als Zweitnamen. Hießen die Kinder in den 1820er Jahren noch Gitel, Blümchen, Breine, Hayum, Löser oder Mordechai, so wurden sie nun Auguste, Amalie, Zerline, Gustav, Wilhelm oder Moritz genannt. Neben der langsamen Akkulturation, die sich über die 1. Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts hinzog und schließlich den Wandel der traditionellen Kehilla zu einer religiösen Körperschaft bedingte, fand der Kampf um die Emanzipation, d.h. um die rechtliche Gleichstellung der Juden mit den Christen, statt. Hier taten sich besonders jene jüngeren Leute hervor, die schon studiert oder ein Handwerk erlernt hatten und beruflich erfolgreich waren, die aber weiterhin von der polirischen Mitspräche im Lande ausgeschlossen waren. Sie forderten vor allem das Wahlrecht und die Freizügigkeit. Zwar hatte die herzogliche Regierung schon seit Beginn der 1830er Jahre die Absicht, ein neues Emanziparionsgesetz auf den Weg zu bringen. Doch wurden die unterschiedlichen Gesetzesentwürfe, die dem Landtag in den 1830er und 1840er Jahren vorgelegt wurden, immer wieder durch den starken Andsemidsmus der meiningischen Christen zu Fall gebracht. Die Juden selbst, allen voran die fortschrittlich gesinnte und polirisch engagierte Gemeinde von Hildburghausen, verlangten in wiederholten Petitionen "die rechtliche GleichStellung mit den christlichen Unterthanen im Namen der Religionsfreiheit, der Gerechtigkeit und der Staatsklugheit." Doch zunächst ohne Erfolg! Die Revolution von 1848 und die damals propagierten "Grundrechte des deutschen Volkes" brachten ihnen zwar für kurze Zeit gleiche Bürgerrechte, nach dem Scheitern der Revolution wurden sie jedoch—wie anderswo auch—wieder zurückgenommen. 1856 wurde schließlich ein Gesetz erlassen, das zwar einige Verbesserungen mit sich brachte, doch immer noch nicht die ersehnte Gleichstellung. Die Freizügigkeit blieb weiter eingeschränkt und der Erwerb des Staatsbürgerrechts wie bisher an einen besonderen Antrag gebunden. Die sachsen-meiningischen Juden fühlten sich durch dieses Gesetz diskriminiert und benachteiligt, als Bürger 2. Klasse. Erst am 25. Februar 1868 erklärte der junge, liberal gesinnte Herzog Georg II kurz nach seinem Regierungsantritt und dem Beitritt Sachsen-Meiningens zum Norddeutschen Bund die meiningischen Juden zu gleichberechtigten Staatsbürgern. Mit dieser späten Emanzipation stellt Sachsen-Meiningen jedoch keine Ausnähme dar. Die Mehrheit der deutschen Staaten handelte nicht anders. Auch

Preußen, Bayern, Baden oder W ü r t t e m b e r g gewährten ihren jüdischen Bürgern erst in d e n 1 8 6 0 e r J a h r e n gleiche R e c h t e , z u e i n e r Z e i t , als sich die A k k u l t u r a t i o n d e r d e u t s c h e n J u d e n s c h o n v o l l z o g e n h a t t e . D e r G r u n d f ü r diese v e r s p ä t e t e E m a n z i p a t i o n ist in e i n e r s t a r k e n a n t i j ü d i s c h e n G r u n d s t i m m u n g z u s u c h e n , die in all d i e s e n S t a a t e n existierte u n d d e r die R e g i e r u n g e n in i h r e r G e setzgebung i m m e r wieder R e c h n u n g trugen.

Bibliographie Bundesarchiv, Abd. Potsdam, Personenstandsregister Jüdische Gemeinde Walld o r f / W e r r a , Filme Nr. 74772/257; 74773/258, 259. Heß, U. 1954. Forschungen zur Verfassungs—und Verwaltungsgeschichte des Herzogtums SachsenCoburg-Meiningen. 3 Vol. Ms. ThStA Mgn. Vol 1, 233-242. Human, A. 1898. Geschichte der Juden im Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen-Hildburghausen. Hildburghausen. Jacobson, J. 1926. "Zur Begründung des Landrabbinats und zur Entstehung der Synagogen- und Gottesdienstordnung für das Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen." MGDJ 6. Jg., 66-97. Die "Synagogen- und Gottesdienstordnung der israelitischen Gemeinden im Herzogthum S. Meiningen" erschien als Beilage des Herzoglich SachsenMeiningischen Regierungs- und Intelligenzblattes vom 22. Juni 1844 (Nr. 25). Knodel, J. E. 1988. Demographic behavior in the past. Λ study offourteen German village populaHons in the eighteenth and nineteenth century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1 9 2 197. Levi, F., Liedtke, R., Wendehorst, S. 1996. "Die Frühphase der Judenemanzipation in Sachsen-Meiningen." In Beiträge zur Geschichte jüdischen Lebens in Thüringen. Ed. Th. Bahr. Jena, 39-103. Löwenbrück, Α., Olbrisch, G. 1996. "Juden in Thüringen." In Thüringen. Eine politische Landeskunde. Ed. K. Schmitt. Weimar: Böhlau, 218-226. Oelsner, T. 1942. "Three Jewish Families in Modern Germany. A study of the Process of Emancipation." JSS 4, 241-361. Richarz, M and Rürup, R. eds. 1997. Jüdisches Leben auf dem Lande. Studien zur deutschjüdischen Geschichte. Tübingen: Mohr. Thüringisches Staatsarchiv Meiningen, Bestand Staatsministerium, Abd. Finanzen, Nr. 5793, 5794, 5795, 5796; Bestand Inneres Alt, 42.1399, Bl. 100-126; Bestand Inneres Alt, 43.472 u. Bestand Staatsministerium, Abd. IV, Kirchen—und Schulen, 166; Bestand Herzoglich Sachsen-Meiningischer Landtag, Nr. 803, Bl. 20-21.

E U R O P E ' S LAST P O G R O M ? A PROVISIONAL N O T E O N T H E SOCIOGENESIS OF D I S C R I M I N A T I O N AND V I O L E N C E DANIEL MEIJERS Vrije Universiteit, Amsterdam, T h e Netherlands

Introduction W h e n I started to work on the present subject someone asked me, "why andsemidsm? A whole library is written on anti-semitism. Why anti-semitism again?" However, although m u c h is written on anti-semitism, in a certain sense many of these studies seem to miss the point. Explaining anti-semitism is often done in monocausal terms of cause and effect, which in my opinion is too simpie. Religion or the Church, or the economy is seen as a unique cause of andsemitism. O r , it is explained in psychological terms: man is an aggressive being, a statement, however, that fails to explain why it happened there and then. T h e problem is not unimportant. There is not only anti-semitism, but there is also a war in Bosnia-Hercegowina, there is a struggle between the Hutus and the Tutsis, and in Germany there are problems with foreigners. According to recent research one third of Europe's population is racially prejudiced. More than ever, it is time to perceive anti-semitism as a special variant of a world-wide phen o m e n o n . I will explain my objections against traditional explanations by analyzing a special case of anti-semitic violence, Europe's so-called last pogrom. And, by comparing two different societies, the Dutch and the Polish, I will propose a new approach to explain the socio-genesis of anti-semitic and other discriminatory behaviour.

Kielce 1946 O n July 7, 1996 the Polish town of Kielce commemorated the last European pogrom, which had taken place fifty years earlier on July 4, 1946. T h e trigger that sparked the p o g r o m was the sudden disappearance of a ten-year-old boy who, it was later discovered, had simply run away f r o m h o m e and returned the next day of his own accord. Immediately, a r u m o u r started that the Jews were holding fifteen Christian children in a house in order to ritually slaughter them for blood for their Passover matzos. Five thousand inhabitants of Kielce, led by police and supported by soldiers, raided the house and the incident escalated into a massacre. Forty-two of the 250 Jews w h o at that time had returned to Kielce f r o m the G e r m a n death camps were killed. This bloodbath marked the end of Kielce's Jewish community, where, before the war, more than 20,000 Jews had lived. They formed a third of the

town's population. Those 200 who survived the 1946 pogrom migrated to other countries and places. From a purely humanitarian perspecdve it seems incredible that the inhabitants of Kielce should have treated the Jews of the town, who had already suffered so much, in this way. H o w can one explain the fact that five thousand citizens of Kielce, helped by police and soldiers, could, from one m o m e n t to the next, turn so cold-bled on those few Jews?

Persecutors and victims: stereotypes in debate Were we to have asked the victims they would undoubtedly have replied: "That's how Poles are. Anti-Semitism is in their blood. The parents hand it down to the children." But this answer, which comes down to the supposition that Jews in Poland were always and in general terms "naturally" hated, explains nothing. It simply states that social relations between Jewish and non-Jewish Poles had been tainted by hatred and resentment for centuries. The same applies to other answers, such as the Roman Catholic Church being the single and real cause of Polish anti-semitism, or the Communists, among w h o m there had always been many Jews, who the Poles hated. The implication here is that antisemitism is the result of this hatred, which in itself needs an explanation. These answers are historical observations, but they do not explain why, in 1946, this massacre took place. Therefore, to say that the Roman Catholic Church has always promoted anti-semitism says equally little about the events in Kielce, although the rumour that Christian children were being murdered to provide blood for matzos suggests a religious justification for the pogrom. Let us not misconstrue the problem, however. The Polish Church—and more specifically the agitation by Roman Catholic priests—certainly played a prominent role in the history of Polish persecution of Jews. Catholic perceptions of Jews were not exacdy philo-Semitic and it was the Catholic clergy who were the most ardent in preaching the message of anti-semitism. Nevertheless, it is too simplistic to blame the Church and the Roman Catholic community as such, for all the discrimination and persecution. T o do so would imply either that all Catholics were born corrupt or that all Jews acted immorally and were accordingly persecuted. N o t only are both statements no more than extreme value judgements; more importandy, they miss the point. It is not a question of morality, but of an explanation in social-scientific terms. It is not a matter of identifying the perpetrators and the victims—Daniel Goldhagen's book forms a good illustration of such an approach—but of discovering how this reladonship between people could develop. Why was it that the Polish clergy felt it necessary to spread these ideas? After all, anti-semitic ideas have not been propagated by Catholic priests in every age and in every country. First and foremost, these priests were Polish priests. There is another reason to place question marks beside the usual explanations of anti-semitism. T o blame the Roman Catholic Church of Poland for anti-semitism suggests a rather uncritical acceptance that religious institutions have, over the centuries, defined the behaviour of their members. Surely this credits religion with rather more influence than it actually has. In my opinion,

the reifying idea of "religion" as the autonomous cause of behaviour is an ideological concept that is based on a religious rather than a sociological premise. Moreover, empirical evidence suggests rather less obvious conclusions. There are all kinds of regions and cultures in which people have the same or almost the same religious ideas as in Poland and where no or much less and-semidsm occurs. Current examples include Italy, Spain and Portugal, where Jews were indeed once persecuted. In more general terms, it is difficult to establish a direct link between religion and social behaviour.

Towards a possible explanation of the case The only way to explain ethnic discrimination is as a product of the social circumstances in the widest sense. Taking the specific case of Polish anti-semitism, it is remarkable that anti-semitism still plays a role in the way Poles think, even though there are hardly any Jews living in Poland any more. Likewise in the new republics of the former Soviet Union, where outbursts of anti-semitic violence occur regularly. It is legitimate to ask, therefore, why anti-semitism is so much stronger in Eastern Europe than in most parts of Western Europe. A comparison, for example, of the history of Dutch Jews and Russian or Polish Jews is enlightening. After the Middle Ages there were no pogroms to speak of in the Netherlands, while in the same period in Eastern and Central Europe there was hardly a period without persecutions and blood libels against the Jews. Throughout these centuries, Holland differed markedly from EasternEuropean, and many other societies. In the first place, the close of the medieval period ushered in the decline of the aristocracy. After the Reformation, the Dutch Republic developed as an almost exclusively commercial power in which the prosperous burgers of the cities dictated policy. The Dutch economy revolved around trade and shipping. Thinly peopled, it welcomed educated and wealthy immigrants. Newcomers brought money and new trading contacts. Moreover, the Protestant Republic was embroiled in a war of independence against Roman-Catholic Spain that lasted for eighty years (1568-1648). N o country was as emphatic about the principle of religious tolerance as the young Dutch Republic. Perhaps in reaction to the struggle against the Spanish king, no court society developed around the House of Orange, as happened in France, England and Germany. The princes of Orange led the Dutch army, but they were not the focus of a court culture. In the Dutch Republic after the Eighty Years War feudalism was no longer a significant factor (Davids 1995: 7-9). There was no major landowning class and there was no class of subservient peasants. Since then, the Netherlands has never acquired a "real" aristocracy, there is no aristocratic class derived from a system of feudal tenure. Apart from the royal family, the country has no princes or dukes. There are a number of counts and barons, but most hereditary rides are given to descendants of the urban regency who were raised to the peerage for their economic and administrative prowess. In short, Dutch society might, without too much exaggeration, be typified as one large middle class of urban traders and artisans and a free peasantry, with various

exceptions here and there, upward and downward. Compared with other societies, the social differences between those at the top and those at the bottom have been small. The Jews who began to setde in the Netherlands in the seventeenth century originally came from Spain and Portugal. They were no less opposed to the Catholic Spaniards than the Protestant Dutch. Moreover, they represented a reinforcement of the Dutch mercantile interest (Wolf 1982: 116). In fact, both the Sephardic Jews from the Levant and the Ashkénaze Eastern- and CentralEuropean Jews, who began settling in Holland after the Portuguese Jews, differed in many ways from the Dutch—in religion, traditions, language—but were much closer in an economic sense. They were not so much a threat to an underdeveloped middle class, as in Poland, as a reinforcement of the social fabric, of which the overall social-economic characteristics were essentially middle class. When the first Jews arrived in Poland in the Middle Ages, they were welcorned. The king granted them all manner of privileges, realizing that there were all kinds of economic advantages to their arrival (Meijers 1989: 17-18). Polish society at that time comprised mainly an aristocratic elite and a mass of servile peasants. Because the country was relatively un-urbanized, the burgers of the towns played a less prominent role in Poland than elsewhere. Both here and in Russia, trade and industry were not developed to any great extent, and it was Jews w h o were able to give a new impetus in this area. Agriculture in these thinly populated countries was still very much the principal means of subsistence. In this society the Jews played a role in which they incurred the wrath of first one and then the other social class (Dubnow VII, 1928: 18-19; Meijers 1989: 39-41). In the countryside, they represented the absentee aristocratic landlords, although they owned no land themselves. They were hated as the stewards and rent-collectors of the oppressors of the peasantry. Meanwhile, in the towns they were seen to pose a threat as commercial rivals to the existing burgers. Clearly, the enormous differences between the social classes formed the principal reason why anti-semitism continued to exist in Eastern Europe over the centuries. At the top of the Eastern-European social ladder was the aristocratic elite, while on the lowest rung was the mass of peasants. Compared with Western-European societies, the intermediate bourgeoisie was a factor of little consequence. Between the various classes of gentry, burgers and peasants lay enormous, unbridgeable divides. It would be hard to imagine a society in which the sentiments of hate were so perfectly preserved in the rigid social-economic and cultural stratification. Moreover, as a major landowner, the Church played a unique role. The Church rivalled the aristocracy in several areas, allying itself to the bourgeoisie and justifying its politics and actions by periodically accusing the Jews of responsibility for every possible social evil. This historical gulf between those at the top and those at the bottom of society remained in place in Russia and Poland even after the Revolution of 1917: the Communist regime simply imposed a new aristocracy of Party bureaucrats

who—in time-honoured fashion—treated the rest of the population as subservient. In societies in which the tensions and differences between the privileged and the oppressed run so high, the various social groups must find reinforcements simply to maintain their position in society. The weaker groups are constandy being suppressed since, in such an unstable society, they are constandy forming new coalitions and therefore form a perceived threat to the established position of the dominant group. In this way, in Eastern Europe the Jews formed an underclass that posed a potential threat. This applied equally to other minority groups. For example the Gypsies, who, as a subservient ethnic unit were also the historical target of persecutions. In a rigidly stratified society like this, the dominant and the dominated groups develop rather stereotypical notions about their rivals and, because these notions become part and parcel of their culture, handed down from generation to generation, they start to live a life of their own. They do not exist in people's imagination, bearing no relation to their lives, like a traditional legend or a fairytale. These images can convey deep emotions in human beings, since what we are dealing with here are still relatively unstable societies, in which "the other" still poses a serious threat to one's position in society. In 1995 a short but important research project investigated anti-semitism in a Polish village in which no Jew had lived since the Second World War. Despite that fact, the villagers appeared to have raised their children with all manner of grisly stories about Jews (Lehman 1995: 88-90). These stereotypes of Jews had become part of their cultural baggage, even though the protagonists were no longer a part of their everyday lives. In other words, as long as Poland is subjected to serious social tensions, Jews will always be equated with any threat to a group's existence. And the more powerful the tension, the bigger the chance that violence will erupt.

Kielce 1946 again As we have seen, a distinction must be made between what people think and the way they act. Thoughts are not direcdy related to actions. And the continuity of particular images of other human beings and the rise of violence should also be seen separately. In a country in which social differences are marked—in which people rarely interact on the basis of equality—these perceptions of the other tend to preserve people's prejudices, even if the subjects of those perceptions no longer exist. Societies of this nature will therefore always have a stock of notions on which to draw to justify violence. Perceptions in themselves do not lead to human behaviour; but human behaviour does lead to a surge for justification in legitimizing perceptions. Violence does not erupt of its own accord either. In any state, the established authorities must necessarily monopolize violence. The sudden eruption of violence in Kielce implies that in Poland, in 1946, the national means of enforcement—army and police—were not under central control. The local military and police authorities played—on their own authority and initiative—a leading role in the pogrom. Perhaps this can best be understood in the context

of the emergence of the Polish state as the result of a long struggle between rival groups—that is, of relatively independent human configurations of violence. This struggle eventually led to the victory of the strongest party, the Communists, w h o nevertheless still had to establish their authority in a society which was as yet far from pacified. The Communists were eventually able—not through their own strength alone, but with Soviet support—to establish their authority by violendy suppressing every other form of association. Finally, in 1948, Poland was declared a people's democracy and in 1952 a new constitution was promulgated. Despite these formal Communist milestones, tensions continued to exist in subsequent years and were occasionally suppressed with the aid of Russian military force. Years of resistance to Communist repression, a resistance which at times rested more on symbolism than on military force, implies that the monopolization of the means of enforcement by the state was not achieved without effort. The later struggles of Solidarity and the subsequent fall of the Communist regime demonstrate that the monopolization of military force is not sufficient to keep a government in place. The scale and duration of social conflicts also play a role, since this is what determines how many individuals are prepared to resist a particular authority. In an oppressive state, i.e. in a state in which a relatively small elite dominates the mass of the people, the struggle for power can lead to a succession of events in which the enormous economic significance of the masses makes it ever harder to control them. That applies all the more in today's society, which is far more dependent on production by the many than ever before. 1 Strikes by factory workers are a modern variation of the use of force which the state is scarcely able to control since this use of force contains an economic threat against which the violence of the state cannot prevail. This last is of course a consequence of the technical complexity of today's production processes. Workers may be forced back to their jobs, but it is far harder to impel people to make the extra effort that is essential in the production of high-quality goods on which society has become economically dependent. This development, the final demise of feudalism, is conceptualized as the Industrial Revolution, the process in which the power of the monarchy and aristocracy is gradually eroded and the power of the workers as a class gradually increases. However, the development of these new societies has led, especially in countries where relations between the various economic groupings were far from crystallized, to extreme conflicts. And Poland is no exception. This case is one of sudden and apparendy completely unnecessary and inexplicable violence. T o explain the events that took place in Kielce in 1946 an

An exception is perhaps societies in which production depended on a large army of slaves or a subservient populadon. In this kind of society the unfree masses were reladvely easily manipulated by the central authority. T h e difference between then and now is, however, that the slaves and serfs of the past were freed of their des as a socially essendal ingredient for industrial reform and were therefore able to overthrow the old regime. That led to a further strengthening of their position so that the government could no longer make them as dependent as they were during the old regime.

analysis should not only consider the global, social history of Poland, but also the local history, particularly the social relations between Jews and non-Jews in the town. More research is therefore needed into the relations between the two groups before the war, within the wider context of Polish society. For example, research should be directed into what happened to the possessions of the Jews of Kielce during the war. It seems clear that many inhabitants of the town were far from happy to see those two hundred Jews returning in 1945. It was a small town, with a large Jewish population: a third of the inhabitants. What kind of property owned by Jews before the war was now in the hands of non-Jews? H o w had Jews and non-Jews got on with each other in Kielce in the previous centuries? W h o had employed whom? If this history can be traced, it may reveal a pattern of people struggling to survive in competitive positions in the remains of a society with a past tainted by tension. This view, which requires further research for a more substantial basis in fact, suggests the provisional conclusion that in the long term, problems like this can only be solved through regulated prosperity and social equality. Only if the differences between the higher and lower levels in society are kept within bounds is it possible to defeat the social evils of anti-semitism and all other forms of repression and racism (Meijers 1995). This should be one of the main priorities of the modern world in general and of a united Europe in particular.

References Davids, C. A. 1995. De macht der gewoonte? Economische ontwikkeling en institutionele context in Neder/and op de lange termijn. Rede uitgesproken bij de aanvaarding van het ambt van hoogleraar economische en sociale geschiedenis aan de faculteit der letteren en de faculteit der economische wetenschappen en econometrie van de Vrije Universiteit te Amsterdam op 19 juni 1995. Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit. D u b n o w , S. 1928. Weltgeschichte des Jüdischen Volkes. Band VII. Berlin: Jüdischer Verlag.

Goldhagen, D. J. 1996. Hitlers willing executioners. Ordinary Germans and the Holocaust. London: Litde, Brown and Company.

Lehmann, R. 1995. Symbiosis and Ambivalence. Poles and Jews in a small Galician town. Amsterdam & Cracow: University of Amsterdam & Jagiellonian University. M. A. Thesis.

Meijers, D. 1989. De revolutie der vromen. Ontstaan en ontwikkeling van het chassidisme. Waarin i opgenomen het verslag van reb Dan Is/-Toms reis door de eeuwigheid. Hilversum: Gooi en Sucht. , 1995. "Slechts sociale rechtvaardigheid kan antisémitisme uitbannen." In

NRC/

Handelsblad d. d. 31-1-1995, 10. Wolf, E. R. 1982. Europe and the people without history. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press.

JEWISH A N D MARRANO CONNECTIONS IN T H E RELATIONSHIP OF P R I N Z LUIS SALVADOR OF HABSBURG AND N A T H A N I A L VON R O T H S C H I L D GLORIA M O U N D Casa Shalom, Gan Yavneh, Israel T h e friendship between Prinz Luis Salvador of Habsburg and Baron Nathanial von Rothschild is unique in many ways. While a considerable a m o u n t of detail regarding it is still shrouded in mystery because of the difficulty of accessing papers, we nevertheless know enoqgh to reflect on the fact that these two men had a reladonship that strengthened over the years and that it began at a time when Jews were not accepted at the Austrian Habsburg Court. Prinz Luis, w h o was the ninth child of the second marriage of Prinz Leopold, 11 of Tuscany and Maria Antonia de Bourbon of the two Sicilies, was born at the Pitti Palace, Florence, on the 4' h , August 1847. At an early age he travelled considerably to the Royal Courts and Palaces in Europe, 1 visidng families to which he was closely related. Even from the accounts of his earliest teenage journeys it can be seen that the young man took an extraordinary interest in his destinations and people he met en-route. By the age of twenty he was unofficially engaged to be married to his cousin Matilda, but she was to die before any official betrothal. H e never in his lifetime publicly committed himself again to wedlock. Prinz Luis first visited Ibiza, the third largest Balearic Island (Spain) in 1868, as part of the Grand T o u r of Europe then de rigueur for sons of the Nobility. He only planned to stay a day, but found there was no boat to continue his journey to the larger island of Majorca for a week. This prolonged visit was to change the course of his life entirely, because the enforced sojourn made him study his surroundings in depth. Consequendy the missives that he dutifully wrote h o m e to his mother about his impressions of this beautiful, but then rather primitive Island, seems to have been the catalyst to subsequent literary efforts. Henceforth he profusely studied, wrote about and drew the people, culture, folklore fauna and flora of all the Balearics, as well as many other places that he visited, but it was about these Spanish Islands that he wrote in greatest detail. In all, we have record of an excess of seventy written works d o n e by him in his lifetime. In the course of his meticulous research he reported h o m e that Jews were living on Ibiza, the families having been there for generations. H e mentioned that they were respected by the Islanders amongst w h o m they formed a distinct c o m m u -

March, J. 1983. S'Arxiduc. Palma de Majorca: Orlenata, 17.·

nity and that while outwardly they were good Catholics, in reality they kept to the ways of their ancestors, marrying only amongst themselves. He classified their trades and the important part they played in the Island's commerce, locating the part of Ibiza T o w n in which they resided. He also noted that the majority had red hair, which is quite usual for people of Jewish origin in the Balearics. 2 His publishing about the condnuadon of Jewish communal life on Ibiza was an unexpected revelation and is even today of great historical importance. Considering the deep insularity of the Ibicencos, a trait that continues to modern times, one cannot but wonder how a young inexperienced Prince became informed so rapidly about a group of people that should not have been there after 1492. A section of the Island's population who would have had reason to hide their way of life from outsiders, especially if inquiries were initiated by one so closely related to the Spanish Royal house. We now know that Prinz Luis stayed with the Austrian Consul, Juan Wallis, who was one of these outwardly conforming Catholics, many of whose descendants even today regard themselves as Jews, so one must conclude this was the prince's primary source of such private data. Wallis was the Austrian Consul from 1863-1896. He and other brothers and sons from this large family served as Consuls for France, England, Netherlands etc. In later years both the Prince and Nathanial von Rothschild were close friends with them, staying in each others houses and sailing the seas together in their yachts. Just one year after the prince's initial visit to these Spanish Islands, the first volume of Die Balearen in Wort und Bild appeared, entided Die Alten Pityusen. Pityusen, being the German tide for the Pitusues Islands, (or Pine Islands), by which the southern Balearics of Ibiza and Formentera are known. It is obvious that close scrutiny had been paid to many facets of the residents' lives before publishing. T h e number of dwellings, schools, criminals, doctors, chemists, general professions etc. were all dutifully documented. In addition, there again appeared a clear description of the Jews in Ibiza and their habits. The edition, which was eventually to one be of seven volumes, was arranged by an enterprising editor of the Leipzig publishing house, Brockhaus, who had seen the letters to Prinz Luis's Mother. He understood that this young prince was exceptionally perceptive and interested in a people and culture not connected with his own station in life; correcdy gauging that such expertise would find a publishing market, especially since the text was made even more explicit by the talented colorful drawings that accompanied them. The book was dedicated to Prinz Luis's uncle, the E m p e r o r of Austria, Franz Josef. Continuing a Democratic lifestyle that was way ahead of his time, the prince's subsequent association with the Rothschilds must have initially raised eyebrows at the strict Austrian Court. His closest and most enduring friendship within this Banking family was with Baron Nathanial von Rothschild, who was born in Vienna on October 26 th , 1836, the fourth child and eldest of three sons of Anselm Solomon Rothschild and his cousin Charlotte de Rothschild of London. Nathanial, was regarded

2

Patai, R. 1962. Midstream. Spring 1962, 59-62.

throughout his life as a good humored easy going person, considerate towards servants. He seems to have achieved a self satisfying lifestyle where the main occupation seems to have been the pursuance of beauty and love in all its forms. He erected for himself an opulent mansion in Vienna, amassing within it an exquisite collection of late eighteenth century Bijou trinkets, on which he was considered a world authority. Notwithstanding, he and his youngest brother Solomon Albert, gave enormous sums to Austrian charities, both Jewish and non-Jewish. Hospitals, Orphanages, schools, clinics for the Deaf, the instigation of the first Austrian workers pensions, and more, benefited from the brothers' attention. In addition Nathanial's abiding passion for all branches of horticulture was displayed in the way he presented the Austrian capital with the magnificent H o h e Warte Botanical gardens. Here he assembled plants and fruits from all over the world to enhance his gift. He engaged J o h n s o n an English gardener, who had previously been in the employ of his brother Ferdinand at Waddesdon Manor in England, 3 to manage the beautiful grounds. When became known that the gardener was missing his national Soccer game, Nathanial prompdy made arrangements for the first Austrian football team to be formed. Another sport in which Nathanial successfully indulged was the breeding and racing of horses, winning the Derby three times. He died a Batchelor, which was unusual in the family, on June 2 nd , 1905. Perhaps when his father, Anselm, head of the Vienna branch of Rothschilds' passed away on July 27 lh , 1874, firmly enjoining his children to continue in family harmony, 4 he suspected that this son would never marry. It was with some amazement that the Banking houses of Europe learned that the younger brother by eight years, Solomon Albert, (Salbert), was named to manage the Vienna branch, disregarding Nathanial although he was involved in the Bank's business and had successfully served on Boards and arranged loans for the Nobility. Presumably the second son, Ferdinand was passed over too because he was by then firmly established in England. In 1887, Franz Josef declared the Rothschilds, Hoffähig, or Courtworthy. This dispensation henceforth admitted them to all Royal family social occasions although unofficial contacts were going on, especially when loans were required by the Royal family. Previously, for some years, both Prinz Luis and Rothschild had been seen with the smart set, frequented by the Emperor's children, which possibly brought Rothschild initially into contact with Prinz Luis Salvador who was close to his cousin the liberal minded and gifted Crown Prince Rudolph, a headstrong young man, constandy at loggerheads with his autocratic father. The two young Habsburg cousins early on disregarded the Royal Edicts about the social non acceptance of Jews and engaged themselves in a Bohemian lifestyle within a circle that included Liberals, Socialists and even Hungarian revolutionaries, w h o were agitating for independence from Austria. Both Nathanial and Prince Luis were connected with the drama of the death to this heir to the Habsburg throne of Austria-Hungary in 1889, when the then thirty-one year old Rudolf and his mistress, Maria Vetsera, were 3 4

Rothschild, Mis. James de, 1979.TAf Rothschilds at Waddesdon Manor. London: Collins. Morton, F. 1962. The Rothschilds. New York: Ateneum, 220.

found dead at the Hunting Lodge of Mayerling, just outside Vienna. Numerous theories have been given since the tragedy, as to the reasons and scandals, many allied to treasonable links, that were about to unfold as the fatal act was done. Official bulletins were issued stating that the Prince had shot his lover and then himself. Prinz Luis's step brother, Ferdinand IV, Grand Duke of Tuscany, wrote to Prinz Luis important facts and theories about the deaths. 5 In later years it has been stated with documentary backing that it was the mistress w h o inidally shot the Crown Prince, and there may have been outside influences, but to date the complete events of the unhappy case have never totally come to public light, although it is more than possible that Prinz Luis and Rothschild were within the circle that ultimately knew the full details. Maria Vetsera, an exceptionally beautiful highly strung young woman, barely eighteen years of age at the time, had first been a paramour of Nathanial Rothschild, who it is reported passed her along to the Crown Prince, just a year before the suicide that was the culmination of a brief tempestuous affair. She was the daughter of a minor diplomat and an ambitious mother. It was Nathanial's brother Salbert, as Chairman of the Rail Telegraph Company, being first to hear of the tragedy, w h o broke the news of the ending of his only son's life to the Emperor. 6 Therefore, in this privileged situation, and in view of the fact that Salbert and Franz Josef became quite close friends, it was more than likely that the full facts were eventually leaked to Prinz Luis and Nathanial. In addition, Rudolph's mother, the beautiful Empress Elizabeth of Austria (known as Sissi in her own circle ) 7 was a close friend of Prinz Luis, frequently visiting him at his homes in Majorca and elsewhere as well as sailing with him on his yachts. 8 Prinz Luis and Nathanial Rothschild shared a great love of the sea, and visited, among other places, Palestine and America and even circumnavigated the Cape of G o o d Hope. Their vessels were fitted with the very latest amenities of speed and luxury. The prince bought and restored numerous beautiful homes on the island of Majorca which Rothschild frequendy visited. Indeed, over the years, as the lifestyle of Prinz Luis became more opulent and his constant acquisition of large country Estates increased, many wondered where all the money came from. We can now see from papers recendy discovered that possibly a considerable amount came from Rothschild. Prinz Luis's remarks about the Jews being on the nearby island of Ibiza was published in the first of his books in German, but deleted in the later Spanish editions, which appeared under the tide of Las Baleares in 1886, possibly out of deference for his aunt, the Spanish Empress Sophia, but the startling omission

5 6 7

8

March, J. 1983. SArxiduc. Palma de Majorca: Orlenata, 206-211. Cowles, V. 1973. Rothschild: A story of Wealth and Power. Weidenfeld and Nicholson, 272-275. The Empress was assassinated after spending her last day with her friend Salbert's sister Julie, at her Geneva lakeside mansion on September 9th. 1898. See Morton, F. 1962. The Rothschilds. N e w York: Ateneum, 213. Hamann, Β. und Hassman, Ε. 1998. Elizabeth—Stationen ihres Lebens. Wien-Munchen: Verlag Chrisdan Brandstatter. This book contains plans and maps of nearly all the known voyages of the Empress Elizabeth, but there can be litde doubt that because of her obsession with privacy and incognito visits some short ones are not documented.

was replaced and included in the republished volumes that re-appeared almost one hundred years later in 1982.9 The first transladon was done by the Spanish Vice-Consul in Berlin, D. Sandago de Palacios and the Prince's long standing friend, D. Francisco Manuel de los Herreros y Schwager, Director of the Instituto Balear, in Palma, an organizadon known to be very and-Jewish, like many other official bodies in Majorca at this period. 10 Herreros almost certainly would have advised the Prince to delete any mention of the Jews' lengthy residence in the nearby Island of Ibiza. Although not a large portion in relation to the total size of the book, the writings therein about the continuance of an Ibicenco Jewish Community reveal much that had then been hidden for 400 years, and are now proving of considerable use to researchers studying the hitherto unknown Jewish and Marrano history of the smaller Balearic Islands. Far less well known are the two books that Baron Nathanial published. We are fortunate in learning about how the Baron came to write these volumes because in 1924 there appeared a book entided Die Baron Rothschild: Jagden Reisen ("hunting tours"). The author was Erzahlt von Forstrat-Grukrainiz, who had been the administrator for twenty-five years of Rothschild's Hunting Lodge, and accompanied him, as did numerous other members of Nathanial's household on his frequent trips abroad. 11 Erzahlt like most of Rothschild's staff, showed throughout his writing deep respect and admiration for his master. He tells us that on an early visit to Prinz Luis's Majorcan estate, Miramare, Nathanial was presented with a copy of Die Balearan, and the author states that this pleased his employer so much that upon receiving it Rothschild decided to emulate his friend. So the decision was taken to collate and publish the material of the two cruises the Baron had taken in 1892 and 1893. The result was Skiqgen aus dem Süden (Sketchesfrom the South), published in 1894. The finished production was an opulent two volumes in heavy brown leather embossed in rich gold leaf, containing some fifty photos and forty three drawings of places visited. Nathanial, who, we are informed by von Grukrainiz, was a "passionate photographer," devoted much time and effort to the compilation of this travelog, aided in the text by his secretaries Baron August von Twickel and Carl Albrecht. Certainly the quality of the pictures, especially the indoor ones, taken in the Majorcan

9

10

11

Las Balears. Primera Parte. Las Antiguas Pitiuses. Published by Caja de Baléares Sa Nostra Palma 1982. Officially the Jewish Community of the Island of Majorca came to an end with the forced conversion of all its remaining Jews in 1435. More than half a century before the National expulsion. In the ensuing four hundred and fifty years, the Majorcans, many themselves of Jewish origin, never believed that the Jewish remnants that chose not to flee had become truly believing good Catholics. Terrible persecudon was metered out through the Inquisidon, who found many cases of continued Jewish practices. Even after its disbandment, heavy segregation of these descendents of Jews who became known as Chuetas continued. Until the 1960s no Priest would marry a Chueta with a non-Chueta. See Braunstein, Β. 1952. Chuetas of Majorca. New York: Ktav. Mound, G. 1998. "Jews In Places You Never Thought O f . " New York: Ktav 58-63: Idem. 1998. "Holy Day Ritual Amongst Marrano-Anusim Jews." Liturgy and Ritual in Islamic and judaic traditions Conference. Denver, Co: Univ. of Denver (due 1999). V o n Forstrat-Grukrainiz, Ε. 1924. Die Baron Rothschild Jagden Reisen. Munich: Verlag Für Kultueur Politik.

Caves of Drach, where there would have been so little light are exceptional considering the few photographic technical aides available at the end of the nineteenth century. This was an era when the Aristocracy and Royalty did not publicly show themselves to be interested in commercial ventures. A literary effort was therefore published purely for family and friends. Sixty copies were produced and today a specimen is rare. Surprisingly, the book is listed in a local Bibliography that was published in 1986 in Ibiza, 12 so it must have been known or mentioned there. Possibly a set was presented to one or more of the Wallis family, but if so the books have since disappeared. Certainly those that may have been presented in Royal circles of pre-1914 Europe could have been destroyed in the two World Wars and there are no known volumes today in the UK. The Rothschild Library in the University of Frankfurt is one of the few places that hold copies. Some of the hitherto unknown letters of Nathanial to Prinz Luis, while almost certainly not the full correspondence to the prince (and to date we have none from Prinz Luis to Rothschild) nevertheless throw light on their close relationship. For the most part it is not a pleasing collection, nor of the type one would expect from men constandy dealing with the management of world wide enterprises and enormous estates, evaluated as cosmopolitan and sophisticated individuals with an articulate and artistic bent. Disappointingly, in these private missives" Nathanial repeatedly writes with words of endearment in a tone of mawkish petty sentimentality. We find sentences filled with boring repetitive gratitude without in most cases saying for what he is grateful. O n e gets the tone of Nathanial's constant happiness of being with the Prince, but there are no profound phra es, only lame adjectives with constant reference to the Prince as his Kaiser. It is difficult to accept that the letters are written by a sixty year old man to another gentleman eleven years his junior. When compiling books Prinz Luis wrote his own notes, of which there are still many originals around. They are of a good literary style, seemingly without the aid of a secretary. With Rothschild, even though it is to another in his Mother tongue, the standard is not comparable and convince the reader that even if the photos of Rothschild's book were his personal work the text must have been assisted. We do not know when the attraction deepened or when the relationship between the two men took on a different dimension. Although Nathanial remained a Batchelor, we are aware that in his youth he had liaisons with a number of beautiful women. Descriptions are of him as being exceptionally fastidious and neat. O n the other hand Prinz Luis, is portrayed by his own people 14 as poorly dressed, often unwashed, preferring to wear the peasant sandals, alpargatas, even in places off the Islands, and sporting a sailors cap. So deplorable was his appearance in the eyes

12

13

14

Costa Ramon, A. 1986. Fitxes De Btbliografici Pitiusa. Eivissa: Imbosim, show these volumes known in Ibiza. In the authors library are the copies given by one of the Grandsons of Prinz Luis Salvador, and can be viewed by previous permission at the Institute For Marrano-Anusim Studies. G a n Yavneh. 70800. Israel. Schwendinger, H. 1992. Prin^Luis Salvador of Habsburg. Palma de Majorca.

of the Austro-Hungarian Diplomats stationed in Barcelona, that they were ashamed to walk with him in the street, although they felt obliged to do so. The prince would have preferred almost certainly to have walked alone, informing von Przibram, the Austrian Consul General, he wished to visit Incognito. Presumably this royal philanderer had the reputation for putting women in a compromising situation, as the Consul, who was married, emphatically registered in his book his outright refusal to the prince stay in his house for he was regarded as having scant respect for women and as being a "misogynist—a marriage hater." 15 Amazingly, these condemnations were published three years before the Prince died in 1915. We know that throughout his life Luis was constandy attracted to the fair sex and had many affairs, until well advanced in age, especially in Majorca. T o this day on the Island, can be seen the fruits of some of these relationships, some of whom were with women of Jewish origin and whose families still maintained Judaic practices, like not cooking on Saturdays. Within these families today, even after a gap of three or four generations the facial resemblance is intensely striking to their princely forbear. Without doubt from the recendy discovered correspondence one must conclude that there was a homosexual side to the Prince, which has been alluded to in the two biographies of him that appeared in 1983 and 199216 but in neither is there any intimation that there was an intimacy with Rothschild. Nathanial died ten years before Prinz Luis and we do not have details of his will. T o date only one paper has been found admitting that Rothschild gave Prinz Luis money. It was amongst the recendy discovered letters and is written as an invoice, showing a loan signed for by the Prince's long standing friend, D. Francisco Manuel de los Herreros, y Schwager. The amount mentioned is 53,000 Gulden, today's value being slighdy in excess of half a million dollars. The bill is dated February 5 th , 1892, just one month before Rothschild arrived in the Islands aboard his yacht the Aurora. This visit was announced in the local Ibiza Press of the time, 17 with what any student of the local Marrano Jewish history can only regard as ambiguous remarks in its closing sentence. The reporter comments that while the trip is for pleasure and taking photos, it is hoped that the visitors will find time to visit the salt works in Formentera. They were owned at this period by a Jewish Marrano family conducting the same trading operations in Ibiza, and were situated just outside Ibiza town, which was certainly much nearer and without the all too often rough sea crossing to Formentera. In addition the owners were cousins of the Wallis's. The importance of these remarks lies in the fact that the smaller Island organization, known as Anonomia S.A., was part of a large Estate also housing a building known as Can Marroig, which as far as we know has no connection to one of Prinz Luis's estates in Majorca of a similar name Son Marroig. The Formentera house was at

15

16

17

Ritter von Przibram, L. (Austro-Hungarian Consul General in Barcelona 1885-1889). 1912. Erinnerungen eines alten Österreichs—recollections of an old Austrian. Stutgart: Deutsche Verlagsanstalt. March, J. 1983. SArxiduc. Palma de Majorca: Orlenata. Schwendinger, H. 1992. Prin% Luis Sa/vador of Habsburg. Palma de Majorca. See Ibi^a (weekly newspaper) March 2 nd , 1892, and Diario de Majorca, March 17 th , 1893.

that time engaged as a crypto meeting place for those that wished to worship in the Jewish fashion, and had been such for many generations, bringing secret Jews by sea as visitors from Majorca and the mainland, and was to remain so until the Spanish Civil War of 1936.18 Certainly Nathanial could have received such information regarding the convening of Jews for prayer from his friends the Wallis's in Ibiza. From both the Rothschild photos taken in Ibiza and the text we can see that he indeed did visit the salt workers and the boats, and he alludes to the exceptional secretiveness and insularity of the Islanders, but there is no mention of actually meeting or visiting anybody from Can Marroig, or of any Jews in residence. He desisted from mentioning local names of any family at all except Wallis who was the Austrian Consul, with whom he stayed. One can only speculate if this was by accident or design? He may of course have deliberately refrained so that nobody should gossip afterwards about a local person's friendship with a known Jew. It can of course be understood why no publicity would have been given to Marrano practices. Indeed Prinz Luis may have later realized that revealing the information in his book about the Jews having been in Ibiza for a long time, was something the local secret Jews did not thank him for. These facts were only to emerge in the 1930s and even then discreedy, because the times were so dangerous; when Laurence George Bowman, the then newly retired Head-master of the Jews Free School in London visited Can Marroig in Formentera with some of his family in 1934 and 1935, and saw the continuance of Jewish practices there. 19 Briefly this is a list of the seventeen Rothschild letters /documents discovered: A letter of July 1894, Ref. 3, mentions the two men recendy visiting each other in Trieste. In Nov. 1894 Nathanial Rothschild sends thanks from Vienna for books the Prinz gave to him. In nearly all the letters found Nathanial addressed Prinz Luis with great endearment and called him Mj Kaiser as he did in this one. Ref. 5, Aug. 11 th , 1895: from Vienna to the Kaiser thanking him "Heartily" for the warmth of his reception at a meeting they had. The location is not specified. Ref. 6, Jan. 1896: a particularly unsophisticated communication with a repetition of Kaiser and thanks for help given, but bereft as so many of the other letters of any details as to what the "help "actually was. Ref. 7, March 25 th , 1896: from the yacht Veg/er, thanks again for help; this letter is one of the few preserved with an envelope. Ref. 8, April 1 st , 1897: Rothschild relates being yet again at Miramare in Majorca and is full of more thanks. A few days later (Ref. 9, April 19 th , 1897) there is word from Vienna again, as usual loaded with tones of gratitude, on this occasion for another recent holiday with the Prinz in Majorca. Somewhat mysteriously Rothschild alludes to "Thanks for all he gets from the Prinz," whereas it must be concluded that Rothschild gave money to his Royal companion. The source we can only conjuncture. Was it from Nathanial's private fortune or 18

19

Mound, G . Diario de Ibi^a, Dominical-Cultura. "Resumen de Can Marroig. Formentera 1969— 1998." 8 and 15 February, 1998. Idem, and M o u n d , G . "The Condidons of the Jews of Ibiza and Formentera, 1930-1960." Transactions of 7th. British Conference Judeo-Spanish Studies. Glasgow University: University Press Publicadon (due 1999).

from the Rothschild Bank coffers? If the latter, then there should have been some information in the Counting House ledgers. Yet no notice has come to light about demands for repayment to date. We can see that the meetings were quite frequent and there must have been opportunities in Vienna, but Ref. 10, Oct. 26 th , 1897, mentions Rothschild arranging to come again soon. As this letter arrived in Majorca, one must presume that it was to the Island that the visit was planned. It also mentions their enjoying being together on the boat recently. Another confirmation of the visits is the local press which usually announced the Rothschild's yacht arrival and departure. 20 In Ref. 11, March 17 th , 1898, we have yet another letter of appreciation from Rothschild, and plans for a further visit. Ref. 12, Mar. 22 nd , 1898: just a few days later he writes to the Prinz to say he was ill and in pain and consulting a Dr. Oppenheim. He was known to have always been very worried about his health and was often accused by his family of being a hypochondriac. With Ref. 14 of the correspondence, dated July 19th, 1898, Rothschild expresses from Vienna appreciation for a book sent by Prinz Luis on Napoleon Bonaparte. The recipient says it will add to the library on his yacht. Nathanial gready admired the Corsican; it being recorded that among his beaudful possessions was a greatly prized rosewood toilet box that the French Emperor left in his carriage when he fled from Waterloo. 21 This missive goes on to express delight in the pen-drawings within the volume. Finally Nathanial announces he is about to depart for Cherbourg, (possibly to visit his U.K. reladons, who we know also visited Prinz Luis in Majorca, leaving their calling cards, as did members of the Paris branch—all were found amongst this collecdon). 22 Some letters are undated and incomplete, specifying enjoyable trips to Salonika, Rhodes, Aswan (Egypt). There are obvious gaps in the letters and then correspondence dated close together, so there must be much missing. O n e must hope that in the not too distant future more information will surface about this unique relationship. 23

20 21

22 23

See La Republica, Palma de Mallorca, 14 and 22 March 1893. Las Batears. Primera Parte. Las Antiguas Pitiuses. Published by Caja de Baleares Sa Nostra. Palma 1982. See Alice Rothschild book as per no. 3. I would like to express my sincere appreciation for the interest and assistance I have been given since this research started in 1987, as follows: Mr. and Mrs. Elie Schallt of T h e Sampson Trust of the Schalit Family. The Rothschild Archives, London. In Frankfurt: The University, Rothschild Library and Jewish Museum. Dr. Rudolf Agstner, of the Diplomatic Corps of the Austrian Foreign Ministry, Vienna. D. Jacqueline Tobiass / D. Juan Albons, T h e Instituto de Relaciones Culturales Baleares-Israel, D. José Vives, of Majorca, w h o put his library and private knowledge at my disposal. The late Juan March, Son Galceran, Majorca. T h e Cilimingras Family at Son Moragues, Majorca.

Z U R ZENSURFRAGE DER J Ü D I S C H E N B Ü C H E R IN P O L E N IM 16. U N D 17. J A H R H U N D E R T KRZYSZTOF PILARCZYK Jagiellonian University, Poland

Im neuzeitlichen Polen schaffte seit dem 16. Jahrhundert seine ethnisch uneinheitliche Struktur in Verbindung mit seiner toleranten Politik eine günstige Grundlage für die gleichzeitige Entstehung auf diesem Gebiet der Druckereien der Kalvinisten, Lutheraner, Polnischen Brüder, Tschechischen Brüder, O r t h o doxen und Juden. Alle dort hergestellten Druckwerke unterlagen der Zensur der katholischen Kirche, die in Polen dominierte. 1. Grundsätzlich wurde jedoch dieser Pflicht, alle gedruckten jüdischen Bücher der Zensur zu unterziehen, seit G r ü n d u n g der hebräischen Druckereien in Polen in den dreißiger Jahren des 16. Jahrhunderts, die fast ausschließlich von J u d e n geführt wurden, nicht nachgegangen. Nicht so in Westeuropa, insbesondere im Kirchenstaat, in italienischen und deutschen Städten, w o die Zensur äußerst lästig wurde und manchmal den Juden untersagte, Druckereien zu führen oder in den bereits bestehenden im beträchtlichen Maße deren Verlagspläne beschränkte. Sie zielte vor allem auf den Talmud ab, der mehrmals, so wie im Mittelalter, zensiert, beschlagnahmt und sogar verbrannt wurde. 1 N a c h den heute bekannten historischen Quellen kam es in Polen im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert mit Unterstützung der königlichen Verwaltung nur wenige Male zum Eingriff der kirchlichen Zensur in hebräische Druckwerke aus jüdischen Druckereien (damals haben nur sie solche Schriften veröffentlicht). Aus diesen Quellen erfahren wir über ihre ersten Maßnahmen im Jahre 1539 gegen die jüdischen Drucker Schmuel, Ascher und Eljakim Halitsch, die in Kazimierz bei Krakau die erste jüdische Druckerei in Polen gegründet haben (1534—1540). Ihr Übertritt zum Katholizismus unter nicht näher bekannten Umständen ließ sie dank der Fürsprache der Königin Bona die besondere Betreuung des Königs Sigismund I 2 und des Krakauer Bischofs Piotr Gamrat genießen, führte jedoch gleichzeitig zum Boykott ihrer Druckerei durch die Juden. Infolgedessen mußte die Druckerei geschlossen werden. Der König, der dies nicht zulassen wollte, hat am 31. 12. 1539 den Erlaß veröffentlicht, demzufolge die jüdischen Gemeinden in Krakau, Posen und Lvov die in der Druckerei der getauften

Pilarczyk, K. 1998. Talmud i jego drukanç w Pierwsq!/ Rsçc%ypospolitej: ç d^jejow pnçkatçu rtligi/nego wjudai^mie. Krakôw: PAU, Kap. I. 4. Vgl. Krakôw, Archiwum Pansrwowe, Teutonicalia, Bd. 10, 453-456; Warszawa, Archiwum G l o w ne Akt Dawnych, Metryka koronna, Bd. 59, fol. 321b-324a; Berhson, M. 1910. Dyplomataryusζ do/ya^cy Zydöw w dawnej Police na šrédlach archiwalnych 0snuty. (1388-1782). Warszawa, S. 253, N o . 498; Ptašnik, J. 1924. " N o w e szczegôly d o drukarsrwa i ksiçgarstwa w Krakowie." Kwarta/nik Historynrny 37,1-2, 86-88.

Halitsch-Gebrüder veröffentlichen Bücher auszuverkaufen hatten. Dieser Urkunde läßt sich entnehmen, daß die jüdischen Bücher seit Beginn ihrer Veröffentlichung in Polen der kirchlichen Zensur unterlagen, die dem Bischof von der Kirche und dem Woiwoden als Vertreter der königlichen Gewalt übertragen wurde. Der jüdische Historiker Majer Balaban schließt daraus, daß dem Bischof die sachliche Kontrolle der Druckwerke gehörte, während der Woiwode als bracchium saeculare sie notfalls beschlagnahmte. 3 2. Die Verteilung der Zensurgewalt wurde 1569 offensichtlich, als der neue Drucker, Icchak ben Aaron aus Prosritz, der nach etwa 30 Jahren Stillstand eine jüdische Druckerei in Krakau eröffnete, zu Unrecht des Druckes des Talmud angeklagt wurde, obwohl er dafür das königliche Privileg besaß (vom 15. 10. 1568). Mit dem Dekret vom 2. 11. 15694 wurden ihm alle früher eingeräumten Rechte wieder entzogen und die Druckerei mußte schließen. D e m Beschluß lagen die Klagen piorum et doctorum virorum zugrunde. Diese Bezeichnung stammt offensichtlich von einigen Professoren der Krakauer Akademie—der Hochschule, der die Zensur für alle in Polen veröffentlichten Bücher übertragen wurde. Wir können vermuten, daß zu den aktivsten der Krakauer Kanoniker Jakub Görski (ca. 1525-1585) gehörte. Gegen Ende 1567 kehrte er aus seinem dreijährigen Bildungsurlaub in Italien (Padua, Rom, Genua) zurück, wo er den Titel eines Doktors sowohl des kirchlichen als auch des säkularen Rechts erworben hatte und nun Vorlesungen an der Philosophischen Fakultät der Akademie (1568-1571) hielt. 1569 veröffentlichte er eine lateinisch-polnische Broschüre, die einen lateinischen (Index errorum) und einen polnischen Titel {Oka^anie bi^dow) trug. 5 Somit wurde er zum Vertreter der antijüdischen Literatur, die in Polen immer mehr Anhänger fand. Er versuchte, in seinem Werk darzustellen, wie die Juden den Jesum Christum, Gottes Majestät und die Christen beleidigen und den Bibeltext fälschen, indem sie den Talmud verbreiten und studieren. Die Entscheidung des Königs erscheint insoweit unklar, als daß sie nur auf einen jüdischen Drucker in Kazimierz bei Krakau angewandt wurde, während in Lublin von 1559 bis 1576 die erste Auflage des Talmud gedruckt und allmählich verkauft wurde. Daraus könnte man schließen, daß dieses so extreme Vorgehen des Königs ausschließlich durch einige Geistliche aus der Krakauer Diözese beeinflußt war. Er wollte es auf die Hauptstadt einschränken, ohne es auf Lublin und das dort ansässige jüdische Druckzentrum auszudehnen. Die Bemühungen von Icchak ben Aaron, der anscheinend die UnterStützung vieler einflußreicher Mitglieder der örtlichen Judengemeinde fand, haben erst nach einem Jahr den erwarteten Erfolg gebracht. Am 15. 11. 1570 zog der König seine Verordnung vom 2. 11. 1569 zurück. 6 In seinem Brief an Ludwik Decius, den Krakauer Landeshauptmann (magnus procurator), hat der 3

4 5 6

Balaban, M. Orukarstwo ijdowskie w Polsce Χ\Ί w. In Pami(tnik Zja^du Naukowego im. ]ana Kocbanowskiego u> Krakowit 8 i 9 cvprwca 1930. Krakow, 111-112. Krakow, Archiwum Panstwowe. Inscriptiones castrenses cracovienses, Bd. 98, S. 1250 (oblata). Krakow 1569. Krakow, Archiwum Panstwowe, Inscriptiones castrenses cracovienses, Bd. 102, 316-317.

König dem "Isaak Italiener, J u d e n " (so wurde der Drucker aus dem O r t bei Krakau genannt) die Genehmigung gegeben, von nun an Bücher zu drucken, ausgenommen den Talmud und andere Bücher, die dem christlichen Glauben Schaden bringen. 7 Dabei ließ er dem Drucker alle vom Woiwoden Stanislaw Myszkowski beschlagnahmten Lettern umgehend zurückgeben. Die Ermitdungen haben nämlich ergeben—wie im Brief des Königs zu lesen ist—daß der Talmud nicht gedruckt wurde und "nicht einmal ein solcher Vorsatz entstanden sei," irgendwelche Bücher zu drucken, die dem christlichen Glauben schaden würden. Der König hat gleichzeitig angeordnet, der Landeshauptmann solle sich darum kümmern, daß das Recht auf Drucken und Verbreiten der hebräischen Bücher durch den jüdischen Drucker beachtet werde, damit es zu einer Situation wie im Herbst 1569 nie mehr kommen möge, und daß auch andere das Recht von Icchak ben Aaron beachten sollten. Infolge des Eingriffs der Zensur druckte Icchak ben Aaron Prosritz keine talmudischen Traktate bis Ende der siebziger Jahre des 16. Jahrhunderts. Nach den politischen Änderungen in Polen machte er sich an deren Druck, ohne dabei auf Widersprüche mancher Krakauer Geistlicher zu achten. Er wagte sogar, den Traktat Avoda %ara herauszugeben, der der Baseler Ausgabe des Talmud (1578-1581) beigelegt war und welchen der Baseler Drucker Froben aufgrund der Zensur nicht drucken durfte. Außer den einzelnen Traktaten wurden in seiner Druckerei in Krakau, die schon von zwei seiner Söhne und seinen Enkeln geführt wurde, in den Jahren 1602-1605 und 1616-1620 zwei weitere Auflagen des Babylonischen Talmuds und im Jahr 1609 der Palästinische Talmud gedruckt. 3. Das nächste Mal machte sich die Zensur in den dreißiger Jahren des 17. Jahrhunderts bemerkbar, als in Lublin die zweite Auflage des Talmud gedruckt wurde. Allem Anschein nach sah die Aufteilung der Zensorengewalt über die jüdischen Bücher und ihr Drucken auf den König und den Bischof etwas anders aus, als in den zwei oben beschriebenen Fällen. Einerseits wurden die Fragen der Kirchenzensur durch indices librorum prohibitorum geregelt, die durch zwei nachfolgende Krakauer Bischöfe, Bernard Maciejowski (in Krakau 1601-1605) und Marcin Szyszkowski (in Krakau 1617—1630) empfohlen wurden, unter deren Rechtsprechung derzeit Lublin lag, andererseits fällt in diesem Bereich die Aktivität des Königs auf, die im überlieferten Briefwechsel zwischen diesem auf der einen und dem Woiwoden und dem Bischof auf der anderen Seite sichtbar ist. So empfiehlt z.B. Bischof Maciejowski den Druckern, sich nach dem 1603 in Krakau veröffentlichten Index und dem von ihm verfaßten Vorwort zu richten.8 Dieser Index enthält in dem Teil, der den Titel "Observatio" trägt, einen Abschnitt über den Talmud und andere jüdische Bücher, der mit dem Titel " D e Talmud et aliis libris Hebraeorum" versehen war. 9 In den kirchlichen Vorschriften auf dem Gebiet des Krakauer Bistums galt Anfang des 17. Jahrhunderts das 7 8 9

Vgl. Juda, M. 1992. Pngwileje drukarskic w Polsce. Lublin, 87. Index librorum prohibitorum... Cracoviae, In Officina Andreae Petricouij, Anno Domini M.DCIII. Ibid., 49-50.

im Tridentium beschlossene Prinzip, demzufolge der Druck des Talmud verboten war, die Druckerlaubnis jedoch dennoch erteilt wurde, wenn im Titel das Wort "Talmud" nicht auftrat und aus dem Text alle Stellen gestrichen waren, die den christlichen Glauben beleidigen konnten bzw. gegen ihn gerichtet waren. Während die zweite Lubliner Auflage des Talmud gedruckt wurde, erschien nach Amtsantritt des Krakauer Bischofs Marcin Szyszkowski 1617 der nächste Index, diesmal mit einem Vorwort des neuen Krakauer Bischofs. 10 Er wiederholt die allgemeinen auf den Buchdruck bezogenen Grundsätze, somit auch, daß jedes Buch vor seinem Druck das Imprimatur der kirchlichen Gewalt (des Bischofs bzw. Inquisitors) einholen muß. 11 Der Index beinhaltet überdies einen Teil über den Druck des Talmud und nennt den Talmud im Verzeichnis der verbotenen Bücher. In dieser Hinsicht unterscheidet er sich in nichts von der Krakauer Indexausgabe von 1603.12 Es ist anzumerken, daß in diesem am Ende des Werkes befindlichen Verzeichnis "Auctorum librorvm haerericorvm & prohibitorvm 1617editum" Berachot, der erste talmudische Traktat in der zweiten, 1617 veröffendichten Lubliner Auflage nicht enthalten ist. Trotzdem verletzte das auf der Titelseite verwendete Wort "Talmud" die damals geltenden Vorschriften des Kirchenrechts. Die bei der Ausgabe des Talmud beschränkt angewandte Selbstzensur hat Zwi Kalonimos Jafe nicht vor der Strafe bewahrt, die König Sigismund III Wasa mit seinem Mandat 1628 ihm und seiner Druckerei für die Verletzung des geltenden Kirchenrechts auferlegte. Kraft des Mandates wurde der Druck und Verkauf von Büchern, insbesondere des Talmud verboten, was prakdsch die Stillegung der jüdischen Druckerei in Lublin bedeutete. Dieses königliche Mandat selbst kennen wir heute nicht mehr. Wir erfahren davon nur aus veröffentlichten Abschriften zweier Briefe. Der erste Brief ist ein Schreiben des Krakauer Bischofs Marcin Szyszkowski an König Sigismund III Wasa. 13 Der zweite Brief betrifft die Stillegung der Druckerei Zwi Kalonimos Jafes und die Beschlagnahme des Talmud. Das Schreiben stammt von dem Lubliner Woiwoden Mikolaj Olesnicki und ist an den König, Sigismund III Wasa gerichtet. 14 In der Jagelionen-Bibliothek in Krakau befindet sich ein Talmud-Band (Signatur: Teolog. 12174) mit drei in Venedig in der Druckerei von D. Bomberg gedruckten Traktaten: Masechet Schewuot (1521), Masechet Sanhédrin (1520) und Masechet Makkot (1520). Ich bin auf einen handgeschriebenen lateinischen Text über die Stillegung der jüdischen Druckerei in Lublin gestoßen, der im Nachsatz steht: A n n o Dni 1628 Mensi. Décembre M. Jacobus Vitellius, ex Mandato Illustriss. D o m . Martini Syßkowskij Episcopi Crac. Cancellarij Academiae revidebam Talmudum Judaeorum Lublini impressum. Versus an aliqui errores 10

11 12 13

14

Index Ubrorvm Prohibitorum... Cracoviae, In Officina Andreae Petricouij, S.R.M. Typogr., Anno D. 1617. Ibid., 6. Ibid., 53,182. Grabowski, A. 1849. "Nazwiska ksiçgarzy krakowskich, od pocz^tku XVI do polowy XVII wieku..." Biblioteka Warsqiwska 35, 3, 394-395. Bandtkie, J. S. 1826(1974). Historia drukarú w Krv/estwie Polskim... Krakow, Bd. 1, 354-356.

inopinantur contra religionem, et caput fidei nostre, deprehendi multos quos sub hoc tempus descripsi, et manifestavi Illustrisso. Eriam due contra pacris sunt ficiose cum erroribus precipue in Arba Mitoth, et Sanhédrin. Ubi de Messia agitur, videatur Ga1atinus de Arcanis fidei, et Sixtus Sinensis qui collegit ea quae possunt vitiosa in Hebriorum mendoso et mendari Thalmudo habui. Habitur ex Concilio Tridentino ripurgatus Thalmud a Marco. Idem qui supra. Brixiano Presbytero Canonico Regularium.

Anhand der drei vorstehenden Texte könnte man den Versuch wagen, den Ablauf der Ereignisse um Zwi Kalonimos Jafe, den jüdischen Drucker in Lublin, und die von ihm gedruckte zweite Auflage des Lubliner Talmuds zu rekonstruieren, auch wenn dies aus Mangel an ausführlicher Quellendokumentation nur ein lückenhafter Versuch sein kann. Die angeführten drei Urkunden werfen überdies ein neues Licht auf das Problem der Zensur der jüdischen Bücher in Polen. Es ist anzunehmen, daß der Druck der Traktate des Talmud in der Druckerei von Zwi Kalonimos Jafe im Jahre 1617 begonnen hat und im Sommer 1628 abgebrochen wurde. Was den König zur Vergabe dieses Auftrags bewog, war der gegen den Lubliner Drucker vorgebrachte Einwand, dieser habe zu dem Text des von ihm gedruckten Talmud Ergänzungen eingeführt und dadurch die früheren Zensurkorrekturen in anderen Talmud-Auflagen geändert. Der Bischof Szyszkowski, an den sich die Delegation der Juden zunächst mit Bitte um Hilfe und Fürsprache beim König gewandt hatte, ließ jedoch trotz Sympathie, die er der jüdischen Delegation zeigte, keinen Zweifel daran, d a ß wie er in seinem Brief an den König zum Ausdruck brachte-der Lubliner Drucker selber an seiner Lage schuld sei, da er sich nicht an das in der Krakauer Diözese geltende Kirchenrecht gehalten habe. Die neuesten Rechtsregelungen über die Zensur der Druckwerke waren—wie Bischof Szyszkowski schreibt—in der Konstitution der Krakauer Synode enthalten, die 1621 im Druck veröffentlicht wurde. 15 Die synodale Konstitution vom 10. Februar 1621 regelt in einem separaten, den Juden gewidmeten Kapitel (LXI) mit dem Titel " D e Iudaeis" die Rechtslage der von den Juden im Gebiet der Krakauer Diözese gedruckten Bücher. G e m ä ß der Konstitution durften die Juden keine Bücher und insbesondere nicht den Talmud drucken, wenn diese zuvor nicht überprüft und durch die vom Bischof berufenen Zensoren anerkannt wurden. Gleiches galt für Bücher, für die keine schriftliche Druckerlaubnis vergeben wurde. Der Lubliner Drucker hat jedoch die bei ihm gedruckten talmudischen Traktate und andere Bücher nicht der Zensur des Bischofs übergeben, die sie dahingehend überprüfen sollte, ob sie "gereinigt" sind. Zu seiner Entschuldigung brachte er vor, er habe diese synodale Konstitution nicht gekannt, und berief sich nur auf die Privilegien, die er von dem Vorgänger König Sigismud III Wasa für den Druck der jüdischen Bücher erhalten hatte, die von dem König bestätigt wurden, die jedoch keine Klausel enthielten, die den Druck des Talmud

15

Reformationes generale!... A. M.DC.XXI Petricouy Typogr. S. R. Ab.

die décima Februar. Crac. [1621]. In Officina Andrea

untersagt hätte. Daß der Drucker sich nicht beim Bischof um ein Imprimatur für den Werkdruck beworben hatte, begründete die jüdische Delegation mit in diesem Bereich aufrechterhaltenen Bräuchen, was der Wahrheit entsprach. Möglicherweise akzeptierte Bischof Szyszkowski schweigend diesen Brauch in Bezug auf die jüdischen Bücher, denn am Ende seines Briefes an den König schlug er eine mögliche Lösung für das Problem der Stillegung der jüdischen Druckerei in Lublin vor. Demnach sollten von ihm geistliche Zensoren berufen werden, so wie es die päpstlichen Urkunden und die Konstitution der Krakauer Synode vorsehen, um zu überprüfen, ob der gedruckte Talmud keine Blasphemien gegen Jesum Christum, die christliche Religion und die polnische Staatsräson enthält. Sollte nichts dergleichen festgestellt werden— so schlug der Bischof vor—so sollte man ihnen den Verkauf dieser Bücher genehmigen, die mit sehr hohen Auflagen verbunden waren. Er hat außerdem dazu geraten, der König möge selber seine Zensoren zur genauen Überprüfung der Traktate des Talmud ernennen. Diese Suggestion des Bischofs Szyszkowski macht klar, daß er keine Ansprüche auf alleinige Examination der gedruckten Bücher erhob, um dem König nur—wie M. Balaban bemerkt—die Vollstreckung zu überlassen in den Fällen, wo eine Beschlagnahmung der Bücher notwendig schien. 16 Nach dem Brief hatte auch der König Recht auf die Prüfung der in Polen veröffentlichten Druckwerke, unabhängig von der durch die kirchliche Zensur ausgeübten Kontrolle. Heute fehlen die Urkunden, die eindeutig überliefern würden, welches die Auswirkungen der Vergabe des königlichen Mandats, die jüdische Druckerei zu schließen und ihre Druckwerke zu beschlagnahmen, waren. F. H. Reusch behauptet, daß 1628 vom päpstlichen Nuntius in Polen das Verkaufsverbot der zweiten Auflage des Lubliner Talmud gefordert wurde. 17 Wußte Bischof Szyszkowski davon, dann würde sein Brief seine Sympathie für die Juden beweisen, die zudem von der von ihm bekannten rechtlichen Einstellung geprägt war, obwohl eine solche Haltung zu Spannungen zwischen ihm und dem päpstlichen Nuntius in Polen führen konnte, da sie gegen die Beschlüsse des Tridentinum war und von dem durch die nachfolgenden Päpste eingeschlagenen Weg abwich. Der Brief des Krakauer Bischofs konnte keineswegs die Juden, die bei ihm Hilfe suchten, zufriedenstellen. Die Juden, des ungünstigen Ablaufs der Sache bewußt, begaben sich etwa zwei Monate nach dem Besuch bei Bischof Szyszkowski zum Lubliner Woiwoden und suchten bei ihm Unterstützung vor dem König. Der Brief des Woiwoden Olesnicki vom 4. 11. 1628 an den König läßt schließen, daß die für Zwi Kalonimos Jafe eintretenden Juden dem Bischof ihre Bitte vorgetragen haben, indem sie insbesondere das Unrecht betonen, das dem Lubliner Drucker aufgrund der mit Beschlagnahme der Bücher verbundenen Verlust geschehen ist. Die Fürsprache des Lubliner Woiwoden beim König für die jüdische Druckerei in Lublin scheint den Erwartungen der Juden entgegenkommen zu 16 17

Bataban, ibid., 112. Popper, W. 1969. The Censorship of Hebrew Books. N e w York, 105.

sein. Der Woiwode schlug in erster Linie vor, von der strengen Strafe zurückzutreten, was der Bischof in seinem Brief nicht angedeutet hatte. Sigismund III Wasa hat dennoch den Vorschlag des Woiwoden nicht angenommen und anscheinend auch keine Zensoren zur Uberprüfung der Lubliner Auflage des Talmud berufen. Dagegen kannte Bischof Szyszkowski bereits im Dezember 1628 das Urteil des von ihm berufenen Zensoren, Priester Jakub Witeliusz, von dem allem Anschein nach der Vermerk im Band des Talmud aus der Jagellonen-Bibliothek stammt. Das Gutachten von Jakub Witeliusz (1587-1648), dem Professor der Krakauer Akademie, dem seit 1532 die Zensur in Polen übertragen wurde, genügte dem Krakauer Bischof als Grundlage für die endgültige Antwort auf die Bitten der Juden, die für Zwi Kalonimos Jafe aus Lublin eintraten. Uns ist jedoch leider weder die offizielle Antwort des Bischofs Szyszkowski an die Juden, noch die Fortsetzung seines darauf bezogenen Briefwechsels mit dem König bekannt. Dennoch erscheint uns seine Haltung angesichts der Ermitdungsergebnisse von Witeliusz eindeutig. E r muß wohl zu dem Schluß gekommen sein, daß, wenn die Bücher trotz Zusicherungen seitens der Juden, dennoch neue Inhalte, d.h. nicht von der kirchlichen Zensur zum Druck zugelassene Stellen aufweisen, sie nicht von den geistlichen Examinatoren anerkannt werden sollten. Das würde das auf dem Gebiet der Krakauer Diözese geltende kirchliche Recht verletzen, das in der synodalen Konstitution 1621 festgelegt wurde. Der Bischof meinte, daß keine anderen Argumente, auch die dem jüdischen Drucker verliehenen königlichen Privilegien, die den Druck und Verkauf hebräischer Bücher genehmigten, die Juden gegen die gegen sie gerichtete königliche Anweisung, die Bücher zu beschlagnahmen und die Druckerei zu schließen, rechtfertigen könnten. Einen Versuch, aus dieser mißlichen Situation herauszukommen, die nach Schließung der Lubliner Druckerei im Jahre 1628 entstanden war, bildete die Erklärung durch die Juden von 1631 zur Bestimmung über den Bücherdruck, insbesondere des Talmud, hier Mischna und Gemara genannt. Wir haben keine genaue Angaben, wo sie durch die Vertreter der jüdischen Gemeinden in Polen angenommen wurde. Wahrscheinlich geschah dies auf einer der Tagungen der jüdischen Sebstverwaltungsbehörde Waad Arba Aracot in Lublin. 18 Durch diese Bestimmung wurde versucht, die Grundsätze der Selbstzensur festzulegen, an die sich die jüdischen Drucker in Polen bei Veröffentlichung der talmudischen Traktate halten sollten. In den zwischen 1617 und 1628 in Lublin gedruckten Traktaten wurde die teilweise Rekonstruktion des zensierten Textes der Baseler Auflage vorgenommen, die dem Lubliner Drucker als Grundlage diente. Mit diesem Vorhaben, in der zweiten Lubliner Auflage den ursprünglichen Text des Talmuds wiederherzustellen, war die Befürchtung der Beschlagnahme der Auflage und Stillegung der Druckerei verbunden, die sich später als begründet erwiesen, obwohl die früheren Editionen der Traktate den Lubliner Drucker und seine Partner zu diesem gewagten Schritt anregen

18

Chiarini, L. A. 1830. Théorie du Judaisme. Paris, 1, 161-163.

konnten: die Krakauer von 1602-1605 und 1616-1620 und Lubliner von 15591577. Die Bestimmung von 1631 läßt uns anders als R. N. N. Rabbinovicz, der diese Fesdegung wohl nicht gekannt hat (er führt sie nie an), die Gründe erahnen, warum Zwi Kalonimos Jafe den Baseler Text als Grundlage seiner Auflage wählte. Wahrscheinlich wollte er die kirchliche Gewalt in Polen mit dem angesichts der kirchlichen Normen allzu freien Abdruck des Textes des Talmud (unzensierte Ausgabe) nicht provozieren, was den Eingriff des Königs und Bischofs verursachen und zu Repressionen gegen die jüdischen Gemeinden führen konnte, wie es schon früher in Italien der Fall war. Die Lage der jüdischen Drucker in Polen war trotzdem bedeutend besser als in jüdischen Zentren W e s t - und Südeuropas. Sie konnten im Druck des Talmud seinen ursprünglichen Namen auf den Titelseiten verwenden, mißachteten teilweise die Eingriffe der kirchlichen Zensur und gaben talmudische Traktate wie Avoda %ara, die in anderen europäischen Zentren nicht gedruckt werden durften, heraus. Demnach sollten die Juden in Polen mehr Freiheit haben, die sie zu nutzen wußten. Es waren jedoch keine rechtlich gesicherten Freiheiten. Im Grunde genommen galt hier dasselbe Recht, insbesondere das Kirchenrecht, wie in der ganzen Kirche, seine Vollstreckung sah jedoch in Polen anders aus als in anderen europäischen Ländern. Deshalb lebten die Juden in ständiger Furcht, daß sich die Vorgehensweise gegenüber ihnen ändern und die bisherigen Freiheiten, wie der Druck des Talmud in der nicht völlig zensierten Fassung sich in die Repressionen gegen alle jüdischen Gemeinden in Polen verwandeln könne. Es ist aber zu vermuten, daß auch bei diesem Versuch, die Druckerei wieder ins Leben zu rufen, indem den Druckern die Selbstzensurpflicht auferlegt wurde, der Erfolg ausblieb. Erst 1633, als nach dem Tod des Königs Sigismund III Wasa sein Sohn Wladislaus IV auf den Thron sdeg, und alle durch seine Vorgänger vergebenen Privilegien bestädgte, nahm die jüdische Druckerei in Lublin ihre Tätigkeit wieder auf. Keine uns überlieferten historischen Quellen teilen uns spätere Eingriffe der Zensur in die Tätigkeit der Lubliner wie auch der Krakauer Druckerei mit.

RABBI N O R M A N G E R S T E N F E L D ' S C R U S A D E AGAINST Z I O N I S M , 1 9 3 5 - 1 9 4 8 MARC LEE RAPHAEL T h e College of William and Mary, USA

In the spring of 1935, the leaders of Washington H e b r e w Congregation, one of the nation's largest Reform congregations, decided that the senior rabbi, 63 and ailing, needed an assistant. T h e president of T h e H e b r e w Union College, the Reform Jewish seminary, recommended a summer replacement while Rabbi A b r a m Simon tried to recover f r o m encephalitis with a two-month vacation. T h e board of managers hired Rabbi N o r m a n Gerstenfeld, without consulting Rabbi Simon, and, ironically, Gerstenfeld was at the time the Leo Simon Fellow in Jewish Philosophy, a travelling fellowship endowed at T h e H U C by Carrie and A b r a m Simon when their son, Leo, died suddenly. Gerstenfeld, however, felt no loyalty to Simon. In fact, he quickly felt himself more qualified than the senior rabbi to head the congregation. Gerstenfeld worked extremely hard: his first weekend included a radio sermon, a Temple sermon, 12 visitations, a Confirmation dinner dance, and visits to classes in the Sunday School. At the end of the summer, the board recommended hiring Rabbi Gerstenfeld for two years as Rabbi Simon's assistant; he would serve the congregation until his death more than three decades later, assuming the posidon of Senior Rabbi u p o n the death of Rabbi Simon in 1938. Rabbi Gerstenfeld immediately took control of the school and the youth group, keeping Rabbi Simon away f r o m both and building a strong base of support; he introduced the popular National Temple F o r u m which he controlled; the board gave him the secretary he demanded although Rabbi Simon had never had one; and he seemed to attract people, in contrast to the continuing problem of Rabbi Simon having lost his public speaking appeal. As the editor of The Tempie News noted during Rabbi Gerstenfeld's first summer in Washington: "he is young and brilliant, but modest, a learned Jewish student of the new school, with a charming personality, w h o had endeared himself at the [country] club." Rabbi Simon was an aging and ill senior rabbi holding on to his position tenuously, while Rabbi Gerstenfeld seemed to be the star of the future. By the spring of 1937 the president informed Rabbi Gerstenfeld that the board was prepared to offer him a new contract at $5,000 the first year and $6,000 the second year, whereas Rabbi Simon, with nearly 35 years of service to the congregation, would receive $9,000, less still than his salary a few years earlier. All of this made Rabbi Simon difficult to work with; the board simply called it the "situation confronting the congregation." Born into a deeply observant O r t h o d o x family in Croydon, England, in 1904, N o r m a n and his three siblings came to American in 1917 when his father, Rabbi Samuel (1872-1958), a Talmudist, was offered a teaching position at the

Rabbi Isaac Elhanan Theological Seminary in New York. After taking his baccalaureate degree at the City College of N e w York (1923), he worked in the field of Jewish communal service before entering The H U C in 1928. After five years of study in Cincinnau, as well as several summers of courses at the University of Chicago Divinity School (1929-31 and 1933), N o r m a n Gerstenfeld was ordained a rabbi. While still an assistant, Rabbi Gerstenfeld began to build a following of nonZionists and and-Zionists in the congregation. In a letter to a congregant in June of 1936, he pronounced himself in "complete accord" with those who attack the "nationalistic concept of Judaism." In a letter of July, 1938, which typifies his rich prose, he bemoaned the pace with which he and his followers were confronting those in the congregation determined to "seduce the membership" into promoting Zionism: Let's move faster. If we keep moving as we do we should call ourselves the Hans Castorp benevolent organization or the Chassidic seniles. Why all this prelude to a preface to a prolegomena to an introduction to action? Why the analysis that ends in paralysis so that all our ideas become luftmensch persiflage and, to be rather gende in the romantic tradition, we become, as Arnold once said of Shelley, "ineffectual angels beating in the void luminous wings in vain." We want a group to prevent the growth of subversive Zionism.

A year or so earlier, Rabbi Gerstenfeld began talking about organizing the nonZionist and anti-Zionist rabbis of America ("a small group of influential, independent, keen young men,") and one of his strategies was to initiate a radio show from the temple on Sunday mornings with "only hand-picked, nonZionist preachers." He had no doubt that the funding would be forthcoming from sympathetic congregants. He probably had the president in mind, for he had identified "a group of men, members of the board of our temple, the key men in the charity of our community, who are all non-Zionists, and wish to crystallize in our community a militant non-Nationalist Jewish unit." The president noted, in addition, the moving spirit behind the group: "our young rabbi, N o r m a n Gerstenfeld, who is a clear cut non-Nationalist." But Gerstenfeld still had not determined his precise mode of battling Zionism; he wondered if it might be better "not to talk a n d — o r non—Zionism but to identify himself with the Jewish tribalists [=Zionists] completely, then bore from within." His efforts to form a group of non-Zionist and anti-Zionist rabbis was joined by others, and Rabbi Gerstenfeld, together with 89 Reform rabbis, issued a "Statement of Principles by Non-Zionist Rabbis" in August of 1942. Convening in Adantic City in June, they had composed this declaration of opposition to political Zionism, and published it in the form of a small pamphlet. Rabbi Gerstenfeld had worked hard, primarily through correspondence but also some out-of-town meetings, to make sure this group emerged, and he delivered numerous lectures in Washington articulating his and his colleagues' philosophy. Never an anti-Zionist himself, as he had visited Palestine and supported the economic, cultural and spiritual efforts of the Jewish community there and clearly included himself when he would say that "Palestine is dear to the Jewish

soul," he was a fierce opponent of a Jewish state, a Jewish flag, and a Jewish army. The rabbi had two fundamental objections to a Jewish state, and he repeated these, in varying forms, in sermons, letters and addresses. First, he could not understand how the Jews imagined they could "create a Jewish state in a land where the large majority of the population is not Jewish." He argued, with a barrage of statistics and analyses drawn from wide reading in the history, politics, economics and sociology of the Middle East, that a Jewish state in Palestine with the current population division (the Jews constituted about 30 percent of Palestine during World War II) would be a military "disaster," and that a Jewish state in Palestine with a Jewish majority (and thus a displaced Arab population) would be a moral "calamity." And second, he worried that "a nationalist position segregates the Jewish people and jeopardizes the fate of the Jews in America,"so that the "non-Jewish community thinks of the House of Israel as a racial or a cultural minority with a separate 'civilization' in this land." T o support this argument, he would usually predict that the considerable American antisemitism of the 1930s would only increase if the Jews articulated a theory of themselves as a "nationality" rather than a "people." He felt that bigots in America would transfer the concept of a "Jewish nation," articulated by Zionists, from Europe and Palestine to America, and use this as a formidable weapon against the American Jewish community in times of crisis or even insecurity. At the end of 1942, when the provisional chair announced the establishment in Philadelphia of the American Council for Judaism, Rabbi Gerstenfeld, together with 16 Reform rabbis, became a member of the executive committee. This organization sought to define the Jew as a member of a religious community, and nothing else, and took note of the threat political Zionism posed to the security of Jews in America. The first director, Rabbi Elmer Berger (19081996), thanked Rabbi Gerstenfeld for his "strong voice," and Gerstenfeld responded with many suggestions for making the ACJ a more effective organization. At home, the rabbi worked hard to "build up congregational loyalty, to create greater interest among our members, [and to] destroy the virtual monopoly the Zionists now have in the Anglo-Jewish press." Never afraid to speak out for his position, his sermons, lectures, bulletin editorials, radio addresses, forums, and conversations attempted to "sweep the indifferent and the confused of the congregation into our orbit of thinking." If he succeeded, he would "build an impregnable bastion of our position in the capital of the world." He had much success in these efforts against Zionists, or what he called "batwinged, midget reactionaries." He did not exaggerate when he claimed that he had "been preaching the dangers of Jewish nationalism from the first day I came to Washington, even when as assistant I was in a most vulnerable position." Although the "richest member of my Temple [Edmund I. Kaufmann] became head of the Zionist Organization of America," he fearlessly "preached against Zionism even on Y o m Kippur eve." It was, as he frequendy noted, a "batde," and he claimed great success among his congregants, boasting to a non-Zionist

rabbinic colleague in Baltimore that "all of them—except for a tiny fraction— are non-Zionists." If so, it seems doubtful that they were converted by many of Gerstenfeld's sermons, as he noted in the same letter that "they have no religious discipline of worship, that Judaism means very little to them, and that I do not see them from one high holiday to another." Rabbi Gerstenfeld's radio addresses provided him with the opportunity to reach the largest number of people, and he enjoyed much fame with this medium. In 1944, he claimed that his radio preaching had yielded 40,000 letters of support "in the last years"; in 1945 he boasted that two out of three radio listeners tuned in his weekly address on Friday evening at 10:30; and in 1946 he insisted that he had two million listeners weekly. That same year, Gerstenfeld told a colleague that a series of five radio addresses "had been instrumental in achieving virtual unanimity in the Senate Foreign Affairs [sic] Committee on the Palestine resolution." and that "every member of the Foreign Relations Committee heard" his broadcasts. There is no denying that week after week he delivered addresses which are masterpieces of rhetoric, filled with rhapsodic prose and considerable political acumen. He followed developments in England and the Middle East with much care, and presented learned discussions about the Royal Commission Reports (1937) and the Anglo-American Committee of Inquiry (1946), among many topics. When he spoke about Zionism, he would insist that it offered a form of Judaism repugnant to the Protestant majority of America, compromised the Protestant good-will towards the Jews, suggested that Jews are a nation and thus essentially foreigners and not wholly a part of their country's people, and threatened to "decitinize" the members of Washington Hebrew Congregation in the eyes of their fellow Americans. Rabbi Gerstenfeld would even go so far as to claim that he entered the Reform rabbinate because of his "belief that Zionism was the false messiah of modern Jewry," and that he came to Washington to "prevent Jewish Nationalism from becoming the voice of and the guide of American Jewry." T o this end he certainly dedicated the first decade (1938-48) of his solo rabbinate. In 1945 and again in 1946 Gerstenfeld spoke frequendy on the origins of Zionism, noting that Zionism "was cursed from the very beginning by the frustrated East-European intelligentsia" and its "luftmensch philosophy." He described the early Zionists as "shouting shlemiels" w h o would have succeeded in rescuing millions of European Jews if they had presented a simple colonization or refugee plan rather than a program of statehood. For Chaim Weizmann he had the most scorn; his "schnorrer weakness at every step" appeased the British and made the Balfour Declaration "a scrap of paper." The result? A Palestinian Jewish community "headed for bankruptcy and murder" unless the nonZionists come to the rescue. And the efforts of non-Zionists will not only help the Jews of Palestine but those in America as well, for "if we desert these Jews they will go down in a blood bath that will encourage attacks upon Jews everywhere." And likewise, if non-Zionists help the "survivors of the old world who are praying to flee to Palestine even as did the Pilgrims" become Jews in Pales-

tine, they will not only make these immigrants stronger and more secure, they will "bring blessing to all Jews." Such thinking lay behind the decision of Gerstenfeld and other non-Zionists to unite with Zionists in an effort to get the displaced Jews out of Europe and setde them in Palestine, although the non-Zionists took care to stress they would not colonize "one foot of Arab land," and that their support of Jewish immigration to Palestine did not mean support for a Jewish state. Gerstenfeld continued to oppose Zionism in 1945, 1946 and 1947 because he thought its concept of Jewish nationalism a false view of the past and a defeatist view of the future, and its conception of Jewish statehood a dangerous program for Jewish survival in Palestine and a threat to the security of the Jews in America. He never wavered from his militant addresses in which he demanded that the gates of Palestine be kept open for the "homeless of Israel," and launched unrelenting attacks on the British in these years. But Zionism he abhorred. Even on the eve of Jewish statehood (6 May 1948), the rabbi was unrepentant, as he helped organize (but did not attend) an anti-Zionist rally under the sponsorship of the Washington chapter of the American Council for Judaism and presented the leading anti-Zionist rabbis in America. Gerstenfeld, the non-Zionist, chose to attend the rally at Constitution Hall where Moshe Shertok, head of the political department of the Jewish Agency, spoke to an overflow crowd. In 1947 and 1948 perhaps the best label for the rabbi would be his term, an "unlabeled J e w " whose heart bled for the children of an ancient faith and who demanded in the name of humanity a sound setdement for his desperate people. O n the one hand, the American Council for Judaism, so he claimed in 1945, was "started at my house," and several months after the birth of the State of Israel, on Y o m Kippur eve, he told the huge crowd at Constitution Hall in Washington D. C. that "I share all the principles [of] my friends of the [American] Council for Judaism." He refused to share a platform with his rabbinical colleague and Zionist leader, Stephen S. Wise, calling him a "false Messiah." O n the other, he consistendy attacked the British for steadily "whittling away" and "completely distorting" the Mandate from the League of Nations, and blasted the AngloAmerican Committee of Inquiry recommendations as too weak and as "diplomalic confusions and evasions," convinced that the British, in bed with the Arabs, would never agree with the committee's unanimous plea to the British to permit 100,000 Jewish refugees to enter Palestine despite Arab opposition. He seems to have favored a bi-national state with Jews and Arabs equal political partners, but whatever his own preference (other than a Jewish state) he vigorously supported the United Nations partition resolution of November 1947, for he would affirm a Jewish state side-by-side with an Arab state. Gerstenfeld's strong attacks on political Zionism, as well as his delegation of the pastoral responsibilities in the congregation to an aging assistant, made him many enemies. A congregant and local Zionist leader noted that "Gerstenfeld has worked miracles in this congregation and community" but "he is not only a non- but an anti-Zionist" and thus "we have no alternative except to destroy him." His enemies, by 1948, accounted for a sizeable minority of synagogue members, and they found an issue on which to unite in the spring of 1948 when

Gerstenfeld's stubborn non-Zionism, in the face of an emerging Jewish state, Israel, coalesced the opposidon. In addidon, a proposed contract extension and salary raise provided a tangible issue over which to express their hostility, and they voted, at a raucous congregadonal meeting, to deny him a multi-year contract renewal and to give him no raise. He survived, albeit battered, what he would later that same year (October) describe as a "slander incited m o b scene before the pulpit where I have served for fourteen years," by a "hostile minority," and the trauma would change him permanendy. He would renounce his non-Zionism and become a fervent supporter of the new state. The rabbi became a public champion of Israel. He still thought the Zionists to have the "power of the lunatic fringe," but he would communicate such thoughts only in private, and his radio addresses and sermons expanded declarations such as this national radio broadcast on 12 May 1949: "As an American I felt so happy last night at Constitution Hall when I took part with fellow citizens of every creed in the salute to new State of Israel." In the 1950s, a chastened Gerstenfeld, would use his radio microphone and pulpit to continually salute the new state. 1

All quotations come from T h e N o r m a n Gerstenfeld Papers, Washington Hebrew Congregation, Washington D.C. The papers are well-indexed and open to the public.

SETTING THE TABLE M E A L S AS J E W I S H S O C I O - C U L T U R A L PRAXIS IN LATE M O D E R N I T Y KAREN LISA GOLDSCHMIDT SALAMON Copenhagen Business School, Denmark

Abstract T h e article argues that food and meals remain some of the most powerful instances for the negotiation, transmission, reproduction and demarcation of Jewishness today. As in the talmudic tradition we find a particular self-re flexivity in this late-modern form of what the author terms a secular rituality. However this contemporary rituality differs radically from rabbinical rituality as it apparendy lacks univocal and translatable meanings or signifieds.

"Amen!" This text is about meals. But it is also about identity and meaning. I will try briefly to portray Jewishness today through a discussion of food and meals. Jewish food and meals. All human meals, anywhere in the world, are social occasions. They imply specific manners and constitute the most important daily rendezvous of families, alliances, friends and colleagues (Marenco 1995). All human meals which are shared by many people furnish occasions for informal negotiations, for displays of influence and power and for the strengthening of social ties, collective identities and personal positionings. People w h o dine together continuously develop and enact shared symbolic universes and forms of practice. Some of these are short-lived and others more stable. T h e food substances, table-props and the rules for how to handle these are more or less specific symbolic referents in this scenario. Jewish meals have all of this in c o m m o n with other meals. However, Jewish meals stand out as being closely interwoven with, and, in practice, as continuously commenting on one grand, central, historical and moral narrative. T h e most commonly known example of this is the seder pesacb, here in an 1845 literary version by the Danish-Jewish author Meir Aron Goldschmidt: 1 T h e frugal meal was brought in—for in contrast to other feasts plain dishes are eaten on this night. As on this night the forefathers partook of the last 1

The text, which is from a novel, is one of the first accounts in Danish of what was then contemporary Jewish life in Denmark, seen from a Jewish perspective and given a literary form. M. A. Goldschmidt (1819-1887) w h o is recognised as one of the most important Danish writers of the 19lh century, was a public figure of his time, often attacked for his very strong satirical criticism of the absolute monarchy. H e is also known for disputes with Soren Kierkegaard.

rapidly prepared meal in the land of Egypt, dressed for travel and in fear. And one entertained oneself with recalling all the wonderful deeds, by which G o d in those days had favoured the Jews. (Goldschmidt 1962/1845)

As an illustration of those cultural changes I wish to discuss here, I will now contrast this literary and ideal depiction of a traditional sedermeal with its latemodern version as recounted to me by one of its participants. A hundred and fifty years after Goldschmidt's description was written, an American Jewish family living in France was invited to celebrate a sederpesach with Canadian Jewish acquaintances in Paris. It had been years since they had last been present at a seder-meal and they accepted the invitation with happy anticipation. At the day they arrived early, so the children could play together. All afternoon the adults communally prepared the many traditional Ashkenasi dishes—gefillte fisch, matyp kneidlach and so on. As twilight fell they all gathered around the pretty table, all filled the first cup of wine and rose. The father of the house then exclaimed "Amen!" All joined him in the toast, after which they sat down and savoured all the traditional dishes of the seder with no further ado. Something clearly had happened to the festive meal during the years between Goldschmidt's seder in early 19th century provincial Denmark and the Paris seder-night of 1996. I will discuss certain aspects of this transformation towards what I call a secular rituality.2 Goldschmidt's seder was an institutionalised, structured social event representing very specific rules and rituals linked to historical, metaphysical and moral narratives. The 1996 seder seems to have been a fluidly structured and condensed situation of sociality and affect, possibly with some displaced or detached signification. The lengthy, communal preparation of the traditional foods seems to have been a conscious enactment of Jewishness—a secular ritual replacing the specific and prescribed rituals of the Haggadah. The singular "Amen!" was a moment of "instant rituality" in a context and time when most traditional Jewish rituals had otherwise disappeared from the lives of a majority of Jews.

Traditional Jewish meals as elements in one grand narrative Traditional Jewish meals are characterised by an institutionalised, structured, direcdy significatory representativity. They make reference to specific, textually rooted rules and rituals and to historical, metaphysical and moral narratives. Furthermore, in the rabbinical tradition there seems to be a self-reflexive consciousness of the constructed and symbolic role of food and meals. Examples of this are the Haggadah of the Seder and the early fourth century commentaries of Rabbi Nahmani bar Kaylil Abbaye 3 in the Babylonian Talmud on the practices

2

3

By rituality I mean a particular practice of rituals. A ritual is here defined as a stylised, repeduve, patterned form of collecdve practice evoking meaning or the idea of a possible meaningfulness, but not necessarily direcdy or univocally signifying any pardcular figures of meaning. Rituals can be carried out by individuals in solitude, but will then always symbolically invoke some kind of collecdvity. 2 7 8 - 3 3 8 Chrisdan time. Mirdal & Siesby 1992 drew my attendon to this.

of the Kosh Ha-Shanah meal. In these texts it is explicitly and self-reflexively discussed that food-items and table-scenes are symbolically and socially meaningful as signifiers of abstract ideas and values. Obviously, meals and the consumption of food are not the only significatory practices in rabbinical Judaism, where basic human needs are made part of a grand narrative and thereby reproduce cosmology. Judaism is characterised by its attempts to read relatively stable and specific signification into all of human behaviour (thus, supposedly, making human existence more holy and bringing humans closer to the Divine). As is the case in other traditions, especially those human actions which imply transgressing the culturally established borders between "self " / b o d y and "world"/other are viewed as potentially dangerous and disintegrative. They are thus heavily regulated, shrouded in added symbolic meaning and reshaped by ritual regulations. 4 In Jewish tradition the integratory act of eating stands out as being such a transgressive act par excellence. When eating, we consume·, we take in and thereby integrate something belonging to the outside world into our bodies. Most traditional Jewish meals are still set in gentile surroundings. In this context the meals act out, re-produce and negotiate the boundaries between the Jewish and the non-Jewish realms of substances, pracdees and signification. N o t only what and how we eat together is of importance here. What we do not eat and the ways in which we do not eat are of equal—if implicit—importance, such as is the case of the particular symbolic meaningfulness of pork. 5 In the traditional Jewish meal-culture(s) the stricdy regulated bodily praxis signified specific referents in the grand narrative of Talmudic Judaism. 6 Those who had a meal together enacted Judaism. They reproduced the tradition and themselves as Jews by doing this (Salamon 1996). Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz illustrates this point vividly, showing how the dining-table of each Jewish home represents the altar of the Temple and even can be said to have actually become an alter in itself: When the Temple still existed, the altar atoned for his sins, whereas after the destruction each man's table atoned for him. (Steinsaltz 1976)

4

5

6

T o exemplify this point, I will just remind you of the specific ritual ways of dealing with sexual acdvides, bleeding and various uncontrollable organic substances such as hair which play an important role in Judaism, but which are also found in other cultures (Busch 1994; Douglas 1966; Knudsen 1988). The swine has acquired a particular place as a symbol of reference in Jewish-gentile interaction. In gentile discourse Jewishness has often been constructed with references to pork and swine, such as in the Spanish use of the word "marranof (meaning "swine") as a synonym for the forcibly baptised Jews during the Inquisition. Simultaneously the interdiction to eat pork has acquired a particular place as a "primordial taboo" amongst modern Jews and is often the last prohibition of the Law to be transgressed by Jews assimilating into Christian society (Cooper 1993; FabreVassas 1997; Scaraffia 1995). Writing in the past tense does not signify here that this traditional meal-culture has disappeared. However, it is quesdonable if even the most traditional and orthodox practising Jews can avoid some kind of post-modern, second order self-reflexivity and self-analysis when practising the traditions today. This is possibly indicated by the use of past tense in the quotes below. I can not discuss this matter further here, but it certainly deserves closer scrutiny.

British Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks can add to this illustration with a description of his image of the traditional Jewish family-meals: And it was when parents and children sat together round the table, that they could most immediately feel the touch of the Divine presence. (Sacks 1991)

Traditional festival-meals were enactments of social alliances. The c o m m o n rituality invoked the alliances and the shared sociability of the immediate group coming together for the meal. It also invoked the symbolic alliances between those sitting at the table and the entire Jewish people in past, present and future, as well the covenant-alliance with the Divine presence.

Self-reflexivity and the detachment of significatory values Thus traditional Jewish meals play a significant role in evoking a sense of community, re-producing identities and social distinctions. They also discipline fundamental human needs into something "holy" and commemorate the covenant with God. H o w do these characteristics correspond to those of contemporary Jewish meals such as the Paris seder of 1996? I will leave out the difficult issue of what would even qualify as a Jewish meal today, but will assume that such an institution still exists, in some form, even outside of orthodox milieux. It is most obvious in the case of meals associated with the Jewish holidays, but also at occasions when particular people meet, and for contexts that the participants perceive as Jewish in some sense. Food and meals remain among the most powerful instances for the negotiation, transmission, reproduction and demarcation of Jewishness today. As in the talmudic tradition we find a particular selfreflexivity in this late-modern form of secular rituality. But it is a rituality which differs radically from the rabbinical rituality of traditional meals, as it apparendy lacks univocal and translatable meanings or signifies. J o Benkow, the former Norwegian president and first Jew ever to be elected to the Norwegian national parliament, describes in his autobiography how during the 1930s he grew up in the only Jewish family in a neighbourhood which knew nothing about Jews or Judaism. The family felt pressured to assimilate into the main-stream Norwegian culture. Jewish ritual life, which Benkow's father was supposed to direct and pass on to him, seemed weak and inauthentic to the boy, as he sensed that the father didn't seem to believe in much of what he said or did himself. The father "muttered his ritual prayers in a corner [...] ratherfor the sake of appearance than to praise the Lord. " However, the preparations of the traditional foods which the mother took care of were "more genuinely heartfelt" and supplied all the atmosphere of the Jewish holidays (Benkow 1985: 76, my translation). The food-culture appeared strong and authentic to the boy and actually seems to have supplied the main ingredients for his self-identification as a Jew later in life. It is interesting to see that the paternal rituality which was supposed to pass on a direct significatory correspondence between prayers, deeds and the religious meanings, only resulted in frustration that such a direct correspondence was absent. The father came to express something other than he pretended to, and the authenticity of the ritual's signification broke down. However the mother, whose food carried no pretensions to a particular sign-value or sin-

gular meaning, but rather introduced an open and diffuse atmosphere of something with which the boy affecdonately identified, seemed authentic to him. Benkow is not alone in having found his Jewish authenticity and identification mainly in food and the context of meals to the detriment of the traditional, verbally signifying rituality, such as the liturgy. The concepts of "Bauch-]tide" or "Bagel-" or "Chopped liver and pickled onions J e w " are commonly known.

The modern dilemma and radical individualism The late British Jewish comic Marty Feldman has described this figure of modern Jewish idendty thus: We Jews are o.k. After all, who gave the world Einstein? W h o gave them Freud? W h o gave them bagels and lox? (quoted in Rogov et. al. 1984)

Here Feldman manages to include the important identity-aspect that the Jewish " I " sees himself through the (imagined) eyes and images of the gentile world. His self-respect as a Jew is constituted via the utility of Jewish creations to gentiles. The Jewish contribution to global fast-food-culture—the bagel—is one such useful and harmless creation, which together with the well-assimilated, Great Jewish Thinker-celebrities are images through which he will allow himself to become identified as Jew (and thus accept himself as himself). According to the French Jewish philosopher Alain F in kielkraut Jews have become but images of ourselves or images of the images of the images that are mainly products of the gentile world. In Finkielkraut's terms this is an empty Jewishness, defined solely by its claim to being different. A difference with no content other than its own claim to being "distinct from." The non-Jewish world of the gojim which should make up the other side of the distinction and be the Something from which the Jewish difference should differentiate is as empty as the imagined Jewishness. The gentile world has been through a similar loss of essentialised identity as have the Jews (Finkielkraut 1980). This leaves late-modern Jewish identity as an image of an empty difference from an empty Something Other. Most Jews are not aware of this however. We walk around believing that we are still living in the modern Jewish dilemma, when Jews could choose between collectivist identity-formations of universalism on the one hand and equally collectivist root-metaphoric dogmas of essendalised identities on the other. If they chose the universalist formation, as in the French revolutionary ideals of uniform citizenship, they would have to give up the particularlistic forms of Jewish idendty and praxis. If they chose the identity-essentialising formation, which did leave room for particularistic alliances, they would also have to face the implicarions of organic nationalism and its mechanisms of exclusion, and often fall victim to that formation themselves—as happened in the Shoah. So none of the models of the modern Jewish dilemma ever really worked collectively for Jews, if they were to remain Jews and still wished to be part of the society of the gentile majority. However, modernism offered a third choice, that of opting out of any kind of collectivism and communitarianism and become a radical individualist. Finkielkraut claims that this has become the preferred identity-formation for Jews, especially after the Shoah when the earlier forma-

dons proved either fatally inadequate or catastrophic. By this formation the individual continually creates himself 7 by making those life-choices that will most individualize and distinguish him from others resembling himself. He is focused on creating himself in such a way that he keeps up his own individual difference from The Rest. The radical Jewish individualist is neither a Jew nor a Gentile. He is himself. His life is a project of individuation, by which he believes he will become more unique and more himself. He will be a Jew when this distinguishes himself as different in a gentile context, and he will play the role of "the gentile" when in Jewish surroundings. T o him the universalist communitarianism has proved a failure and the Jewish community is but a fiction existing only in the discourse of those re-enchanting traditionalisers who proclaim it and who speak in the name of an abstract Jewish "we" (Finkielkraut 1980: 113). The only remnants of a living Jewish community are scattered and fragile families of individuals living out endless processes of identity-tests and infinite selfclassification projects. They try to construct their Jewishness through the eyes of the " O t h e r s " — t h e goyim—forming ever new criteria for exclusion and inclusion. But they now meet new kinds of images in those eyes. Non-Jews no longer generally see Jews as doomed, inferior exoticisms. Today many non-Jews envy, admire and especially feel nostalgia for an authenticity and essence which they read into Jewishness, and to which they believe they have no access themselves (ibid.). Jews have become icons of idealised authenticity, folklore, essentialism and primordial cosmopolitanism invoking images of original diasporas and ghetto-life. The Jews have the honorary position of having been the pioneers of those spaces of marginality, hybridity and eternal migration which most people inhabit today. In spite of its new iconic quality in gentile contexts, Jewishness has become empty to most Jews. If anything it underlines that the essential content of Jewishness today is that of still and always being The Other—the radically different one in all situations.

Late modern Jewish meals as enactments of empty identity? Now, where does this take the meals, the food and the seder-party in Paris? That seder-meal was empty of the traditional narratives of other sedernights. As I see it, that meal was but one enactment of a new identity of empty signifiers which might be the identity-formation of Jewish late modernity. Perhaps it was a paradoxical "instant community" of radical cultural individualists united over signs which had drifted in from a dead sea of c o m m o n referents, the meaning of which could no longer be read because the language had been forgotten and no longer made any sense. The traditional foods had a quality of instant recognition calling forth affect, but an affect which could not be anchored in any specific significatory values (though I do hope it tasted good). The united "Amen" (literally meaning "truly"), which used to be an expression of affirmation of Something, now became its own referent and closed upon itself, reduced to an icon of a Something which was absent.

7

This could also be read "herself." T h e individual discussed here could be a woman or a man.

This must be seen as a radical transformation of Jewish rituality. I do not thereby mean to say that traditional Judaism no longer exists. But I do claim that it only reaches a small minority of Jews today. I also do not claim that traditional rabbinical Judaism has ever had only one original, stable and authentic kind of signification and meaningfulness. As already mentioned, talmudic tradition has always been self-reflexive and in negotiation with itself and the gentile world around it. However I do believe that the solitary "Amen!" of the seder-night in 1996 does represent a radical shift of what it means to practice Jewish rituality (and the role of meals therein). Sitting down to eat traditional foodstuffs in a pretended family-like setting (the setting that Finkielkraut saw as the closest we get to an existing Jewish community today) has, for many, become the only expression of Jewishness. The former Norwegian president, J o Benkow, nowadays meets his Judaism in the industrialised fish-balls called gefillte fisch, which he gets served wherever in the world he is invited to a so-called Jewish Occasion or Jewish Home. Whereas his mother used to spend hours preparing the gefillte fisch (which in those days actually were filled fish)—the hosts of these meals in Israeli kibbutzim, Jewish restaurants in the large western metropolises and in the homes of relatives all serve him the same imported fish-balls with a slice of home-steamed carrot balancing on top so "you would believe that the slice of carrot were prescribed in the Jewish dietary laws" (Benkow 1985:77). In parallel with the "Amen!" of the seder-party in Paris, this global 8 fish-ball with its littie home-made slice of carrot carries a condensed, instant marker of "Jewishness," an icon, however empty of any mediated signification it may be. What do these icons signify then, if anything? Maybe they just signify that they signify that they signify. Maybe they refer to the c o m m o n loss of a c o m m o n narrative that all the radical individualists present would have had in c o m m o n had they actually (still) made up a community. Maybe the icons just indicate that we are all eternally and radically different in the same different ways.... By gathering for a meal of industrially-produced gefillte we—the late-modern Jews—perform some instant tradition, a rudiment of practising something we no longer recognize or can designate in other terms than as a differentiation from...

References Benkow, J. 1985. Fra Synagogen til Levebakken. Oslo: Gyldendal Norsk Forlag. Busch, H . J . et al. eds. 1994. Kroppe. Tidsskriftet Antropologi 29. K0benhavn.

Cooper, J. 1993. Eat and be Satisfied. A Social History ofJewish Food. Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson Inc.

Douglas, M. 1966. Purity and Danger. An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. London: Roudedge and Kegan Paul.

Fabre-Vassas, C. 1997. The Singular Beast. Jews, Christians, and the Pig. New York: Colombia University Press. T h e dish Benkow mentions is originally Ashkenazic from Eastern European. However, today, it is found from Siberia to N o r t h America and from Australia to Norway, often even served in otherwise Sephardic restaurants.

Finkielkraut, A. 1980. Le Juif imaginaire. Paris: Editions du Seuil Goldschmidt, Μ. Α. 1962. En Jede. K0benhavn: Hans Reitzels Serie. (1845. T h e quoted edition is a reprint of the 1896 version). Knudsen, A. et at. eds. 1988. Smitte. Tidsskriftet Antropologi 18. K0benhavn. Marenco, C. 1995. "A Table." In Mille et une Bouches. Cuisines et Identités Culturelles. Ed. S. Bessis. Paris: Éditions Autrement. Mirdal, G. & Siesby, B. 1992. Ό et sefardiske kekken gennem 500 àr. Fra Spanien til Tjrkiet. K0benhavn: C. A.Reitzel. Rogov, D., Gershon, D. & Louison, D. 1980. The Rogue's Guide to the Jewish Kitchen. A Feast of Yiddish Foodsfor Thought and Eating. Jerusalem: Carta. Sacks, J. 1991. The Persistence of Faith. Religion, Morality & Society in a Secular Age. T h e Reith Lectures 1990. London: Weiden feld and Nicolson. Salamon, K. L. Goldschmidt 1996. " D u bliver som D u spiser—mâltidet som j0disk identitetsfaktor og sakralt rum." In Kritisk Forum for praktisk teologi 65/1996. Frederiksberg: Anis Scaraffia, L. 1995. "Au commencement était le Verbe." In Mille et une Bouches. Cuisines et Identités Culturelles. Ed. S. Bessis. Paris: Éditions Autrement. Steinsaltz, A. 1976. The Essential Talmud. New York: Bantam Books.

T H E K E D E M — A CULTURAL F O U N D A T I O N FOR H E B R E W C U L T U R E IN PALESTINE A N A T T E M P T THAT FAILED BARBARA SCHÄFER Freie Universität Berlin, Germany

With this paper I wish to draw attenuon to the K E D E M , a cultural venture that failed—nisayon she 10 hityliach. This is the well-known tide of Ahad Haam's last article in the collection of his At the Crossroads—Al Parashat-derakhimpronouncing his final judgement on the failure of the Bene Moshe. They initiated the first attempt to p r o m o t e the subject of cultural work as part of Zionism's agenda, striving to give it a prominent, if not, a paramount place. O t h e r such attempts to p r o m o t e cultural issues were to follow—the most spectacular of them being the walk-out of the Democratic Fraction at the Fifth Congress 1901—none of them successful. T h e foundation of the K E D E M Fund for Hebrew Culture in Palestine in 1913 was but another such attempt, the last before World War One. T h e existence of the K E D E M seems to have escaped the attention of the contemporary public as well as that of most historians of Zionism, although its pretensions were all-encompassing and very fundamental. T h e Encyclopedia Judaica does not have a lemma K E D E M . T h e only substantial account can be found in Adolf B ö h m ' s History of Zionism. 2 1 came across the K E D E M in the course of a research project that is being presendy conducted at our Berlin institute under the tide of "Zionist Circles in Berlin." T h e Zionist journal Die Welt became our main source of information. Some material could be found in the Central Zionist Archives in Jerusalem. T h e cultural fund K E D E M — K E R E N H A - T A R B U T H A - I V R I T — w a s registered as a limited company in L o n d o n on July 23, 1913, the executive bureau being based in Berlin. T h e Eleventh Zionist Congress in Vienna 1913 officially authorized it. T h e outbreak of World War O n e in August 1914 abrupdy halted the highly spirited aspirations and activities of the fund, its president Moses Feldstein from Warsaw being an "enemy alien" in Berlin and subject to psychological and economic tribulations. T h o u g h active work had therefore already come to an end in summer 1914, the K E D E M continued to exist and was only removed officially from the register in L o n d o n in the early twenties. Given the short period of active existence and the absence of concrete traces the K E D E M left behind, we might skip this cultural initiative as episodic Ahad Haam 1950. "Nisayon she lo hitzliach." Kot kitve, 437. Ahad Haam's most revealing facit was: Lo hayah burnt ration umiti lichyot we-emunah umitit be-efshurut chayyenu—we then did not have the real will to live and we did not really believe in the possibility of our life. Böhm, A. 1935. Die Zionistische Bewegung. Bd. I. Berlin, 437.

and add it to the rest of the unnodced and mosdy unproducdve attempts. However, the K E D E M deserves a closer look because of its daring and ambidous claim, which was no less than to establish a new central Zionist institution that would be a twin institution of the National Fund, the K E R E N H A - K A Y Y E M E T — in the cultural sector. In the following I will trace the emergence of the K E D E M , try to outline its organizational structure and its concept of culture, and look into the reasons for its failure.

The Emergence of the KEDEM According to the report of Moses Feldstein, President of the K E D E M , to the Eleventh Congress in Vienna (September 2 - 9 , 1913) 3 the K E D E M came into being at the initiative of a preparatory commission, elected by the "small congress" (the "Jahreskonferenz") convened in 1912. This commission was established to implement the resolution of the Tenth Congress at Basel in 1911 "to centralize and organize cultural work in Palestine and the neighboring countries." As is well-known, the Tenth Congress brought about the end of David Wolffsohn's presidency, the end of the "Cologne Period" of Zionism, meaning also the end of the predominance of the mainly Western, or, more precisely, German leadership. Though prominent figures like O t t o Warburg and Arthur Hantke remained members of the new Actions Committee, the Zionist executive, the membership of Shmarya Levin, Victor Jacobson and N a h u m Sokolow indicated the new direction. Critical voices about the lack of a cultural orientation towards Palestine had already been uttered at the Ninth Congress in Hamburg, but the real breakthrough came only with the Tenth Congress in Basel 1911. This Congress brought about a shift not only, as mentioned, in personnel but above all in ideological terms: after the material opening of Palestine, promoted by such leading German Zionists like O t t o Warburg, Franz Oppenheimer, Arthur Ruppin and others, cultural work in Palesdne now became part of the official agenda. For the first time a whole session of the Congress was conducted in Hebrew. This highlighted not only a new general spiritual orientation. More importandy: it revealed that the hitherto rather vague concept of Jewish culture itself was undergoing a process of diversification or, put more positively, the idea itself was taking concrete shape. The one coming to the surface in 1911 at the Tenth Congress—and gathering m o m e n t u m in the period thereafter—was that of Hebrew culture. Hebrew had been an element of cultural work from the outset, but it was but one element. From the Eleventh Congress onwards Hebrew turned into the determinant element of cultural work in Zionism. Promodon of Hebrew with all its implications became the epitome of the national Renaissance. It goes without saying that this new direction was not shared by all Zionist fractions. Thus the Tenth Congress was indeed a turning point in Zionist policies. It can only be fully assessed against the background of the thriving Hebrew 3

Printed in Die Welt X V / 3 9 , 26. September 1913, 1330.

Movement outside the Congress platform. Let me briefly trace the milestones of this development: After the death of T h e o d o r Herzl, during the years 1905 to 1910 Shai Ish Hurwitz, Reuwen Brainin and others propagated their SlNAI-project for the promotion of Hebrew Culture f r o m the central office in Berlin. 4 Its program names many of the items K E D E M would later include, such as the publishing of Hebrew textbooks, the organization of symposia on cultural issues, the founding of an avant-garde Hebrew journal, support of Hebrew authors and so on. T h e S1NAI project was not realized, but after the merger of S 1 N A I , the Bern/Switzerland based I V R I Y Y A and a few other cultural centers in Russia the H 1 S T A D R U T L E S A F A H W E S I F R U T I V R I T came into being in 1910. Here again we find the main issues of the later K E D E M on the agenda. In December 1909, shordy before the Congress in Hamburg, Berlin witnessed the first "conference for Hebrew language and literature," initiated and prepared by an impressive committee of prominent figures from the Hebrew Movement all over the world. The central aim, namely the establishment of a Hebrew Congress to be held every other year, was not achieved because of the lack of cooperation between the participants. A second conference took place in Kiev about a year later, with more or less the same agenda, and with the same, negative, result. T h e c o m m o n denominator of all these initiatives was a cultural concept heavily leaning on Ahad Haam that surpassed the narrow limits conceded by the Zionist Congress to cultural issues and consequendy dismissed the binding nature of the Baseler Program. Though many Zionist leaders actively participated in both movements no official cooperation could be worked out. T h e emergence of the K E D E M as a thoroughly Zionist cultural institution at the eve of World War O n e therefore was a new phenomenon. It is not possible to determine in detail the organizational steps that preceded its sudden appearance for lack of documentary evidence. If we wish to understand the circumstances of its coming into being we must depend on inner evidence and therefore have to take a closer look at its organizational structure and its cultural concept as expressed in the preserved materials.

The organizational structure of the KEDEM The K E D E M was built on the patterns of the Jewish National Fund, the K E R E N H A K A Y Y E M E T , its elder brother. Registered in London as a limited company, it was managed by a directory of at least five but at most twelve members to be elected by the General Assembly constituted by the members of the fund. 5 Like in the National fund, members of the K E D E M had to be members of the supervisory board of the Jewish Colonial Trust (the Zionist bank), w h o were exclusively members of the Great Actions Committee, elected every other year by the Zionist Congress. 4

5

See Nash, S. 1980. In Search of Hebraism. Shai Ish Hurwitz and his Polemics. Leiden: Brill, chapter 13: " T h e Sinai Experiment." Memorandum des jüdischen Kulturfonds KEDEM, CZAJ, Z 3 / 1 4 0 3 .

The power of the General Assembly was considerable. According to § 34 the General Assembly was empowered to dismiss any director. § 32 provided that certain central projects had to be submitted for approval to the General Assembly by the directory. § 35 determined that half of the directory had to resign after one year on the convening of its assembly, to be replaced by new members or old reelected ones. Thus Zionist control was protected and assured. But in order to open the K E D E M to vital cultural influences outside the Zionist Organization § 4 provided the membership of the directors of the Nadonal Fund and the president of the Odessa Committee. Furthermore, § 8 endded the General Assembly from time to time to elect eminent intellectual leaders as members who had contributed in an outstanding way or by generous donadons to the idea of the Jewish Renaissance. Moses Feldstein as the spiritual and material originator of the K E D E M was nominated a lifetime member. The General Assembly itself was controlled once a year by a supervisory board and a chartered accountant of the state. 6 Most of this is well known from the Nadonal Fund. Indeed the two were built like twin insritudons, differing only in their aim and their agenda. Feldstein remarked in his report to the Congress: Both institutions will work in a parallel way. T h e one wants the land, the other will conquer the spirit. O n e wants the land for the people; the other wants the people for the land. T h e national Fund is the hard core in the nucleus of the National Renaissance; the K E D E M is the vitalizing lotion of the nucleus. Both institutions complete each other and together they strive for a historical creation: the Renaissance of the nation in its country. 7

The cultural concept of the KEDEM T h e cultural concept of the K E D E M becomes clear on two levels: O n a very fundamental ideological plane and through the presentadon of its concrete program of acdon. a) Moses Feldstein in his address to the Eleventh Congress made some fundamental statements: T h e soul of the nation is language, where alone the whole spiritual power of a nation is stored. Our abnormal situation probably is less due to the loss of the land, but to the loss of our language and thus we have become alienated from our national culture.

This loss of the language could only be called a shameful treason, a surrender to assimilation. At present the Jews were running the risk of losing the young generation through it. The very fact, that not only in the Diaspora, but even in Eretz Israel the Jews were disunited by different languages, revealed the utmost tragedy of the present time. But new signs of hope could be recognized in the young colonies in the country. There a unifying strength was germinating

6 7

Ibid. Die Weltes

ibid., 1331.

through the renaissance of the Hebrew language. And there promising new fields of commitment and action were opening up. 8 The unifying power of the Hebrew language is the main focus of Heinrich Loewe's ardent appeal, which he formulated with powerful rhetoric in Die Welt and elsewhere: T h e cultivation and maintenance of the language has been the only vessel of Jewish culture throughout four thousand years. Even where it disappeared to the very rudiments of the vernacular, these remnants remained a glue for the dismanded limbs of the nation, scattered all over the world, to the present day.

Thus, through the Hebrew language the Jews are connected through all periods of history and in the present time over the whole world—a unifying power both in time and in space. The name of the K E D E M , Loewe explains, implies all these aspects: K E D E M means "morning," whose sun is shining for the happy days in the future of our people. It is also /east,' for which our people is longing, and where our beloved Zion at all times tuned the lute for the song of Israel. ... But K E D E M also means "what preceded us," namely the ancient time, when our nation grew from a shepherd's family into a people, which resisting all rigors and persecutions could never be eliminated, for eternal life is granted to it through its ancient cultural heritage. But the word K E D E M also hints at the life that lies ahead of us and commands us: Forward! Conserve the old and create the new—such is our slogan. 9

b) Let us now turn to the practical steps proposed by the K E D E M . These are the items presented by Feldstein: First priority of all cultural work must be the promotion of Jewish knowledge and Jewish learning. The means to achieve this aim are: —The publishing of teaching and reading materials. This aim presupposes the systematical enlargement of the Hebrew language. - T h e r e f o r e the creation of an enlarged thesaurus must be achieved by the establishment of a language academy, a S Y N H E D R J O N in Jerusalem, in which all leading Hebrew intellectuals participate. - T h e foundation of the Jewish University in Jerusalem, one of the pet ideas of cultural work from the outset, is given highest priority on principle but under the present conditions cannot be realized. § 3 of the association's Memorandum 1 0 enumerates altogether 24 projects, representing the whole gamut of topics ever discussed during the long fight for Jewish culture. Once the fundamental claims were laid down in the statutes, the demand of the hour was: to start action. Feldstein's reservations towards the university project indicate the pragmatic intentions of the K E D E M : the time was ripe for practical work. Accordingly Feldstein introduced his plan of action with the following clarification: 8 9

10

Ibid. Loewe, H. 1913. " D e r Jüdische Kulturfonds K E D E M . " Die Welt XVII/Kongreßausgabe IV, 7. September, 59-60. CZAJ, Z 3 / 1 4 0 3 .

T h e K E D E M does not aim at the solution of cultural questions as such. Moreover we conceive of ourselves as an element striving for the acknowledgement of the political idea of the nation, to p r o m o t e the idea of t h e j i s h u v a m o n g Palestine Jewry and to raise a new generation that is bound to the land of its fathers by material and moral bounds. 1 1

If we sum it all u p — t h e preparation and edition of Hebrew material and the establishment of the S Y N H E D R I O N language academy are the main points—it proves to be a remarkably modest scheme after all. O n the other hand, by stipulating the rest of the projects in the statutes of the fund, the K E D E M consolidated its claim as the leading institution for all questions concerned with cultural work, setting the organizational framework for future development. T o conclude the question of K E D E M ' s sudden emergence raised in the beginning: Given the previously described new Congress politics since 1911 concerning cultural work in Palestine on the one hand and the power and progress of the Hebrew Movement outside the Congress on the other, we may probably conceive of the K E D E M as the outcome of direct or indirect interchange between the two camps, one side—the Congress platform—permanendy and increasingly formulating the need for cultural work and providing the organizational tools, and the other—the Hebrew Movement—offering contents and concepts that could not develop within the Congress platform.

Why was the KEDEM "an attempt that failed? There is one simple answer: with the outbreak of World War O n e the central financial construction of the K E D E M , the Feldstein Fund, collapsed: The 40.000 frcs 12 donated to the foundation consisted of public loans by the city of Lodz, which were immediately lost. Thus the financial basis of the K E D E M was seriously damaged, if not destroyed. This is the external explanation. But there were other reasons. I can only list them here without entering into details: 1. Feldstein's central project of the SYNHEDRION language academy was obstructed right f r o m the beginning by David Jellin and Eliezer Ben Yehuda, the heads of the " W A ' A D H A - L A S H O N ‫ ״‬in Jerusalem. F r o m a Hebrew correspondence between Feldstein and the two, preserved at the CZAJ, 13 we learn that they were anything but enthusiastic about the interference f r o m outside and unwilling to cooperate with the K E D E M along his lines. T h o u g h glad to receive financial help they stricdy refused any control of their work. 2. When shordy after the establishment of the K E D E M the language war ensued in September 1913 over the use of Hebrew or G e r m a n as the language of instruction at the Technion a new cultural focus emerged with the so-called "Hebrew schoolwork," in which the teachers' union took the lead. Quite surprisingly, and in stark contrast with its explicit declarations, the K E D E M seems to have had no part in it. The Hebrew schoolwork consumed enormous sums, but it also succeeded in raising considerable funds given for this very purpose, 11 12 13

See note 7. T h e n equivalent to 16.000 Rubel or 1.510 Pounds St. Z 3 / 1 4 0 0 , Jellin and Ben Yehuda to K E D E M , 6. And 28. Tewet 1913/14.

thus distracting the flux of donations from the K E D E M and at the same time undermining its authority. 3. The idea of the Jewish University, deferred by Feldstein, nevertheless continued to attract strong financial supporters w h o were very determined that this special project should have priority over all other cultural projects or at least equal them in importance. And we can find other cultural initiatives like the "Union for promoting the Hebrew Gymnasium in Jerusalem," "Friends of the Hebrew National Library" and others, focussing on a very special objective and not willing to submit to any centralizing institution like the K E D E M . This p h e n o m e n o n , characterized by Michael Berkowitz in his book on Zionist culture and West European Jewry as the "decentralized polycentric approach" of cultural work, no doubt was the main reason for the failure of the K E D E M . It seems an inherent feature of culture itself, and therefore not only the K E D E M but many other cultural inidatives aiming at institutionalization became "attempts that failed." May I close this paper by quoting an observation of M. Berkowitz's: Ironically, in the long run, the diversity of effort which this decentralized polycentrist approach permitted may have proven more fruitful than the stricdy centralized coordination of policy and may have enabled the movement to extend its influence to a far greater audience. 14

The failure of the K E D E M certainly was a case in point.

14

Berkowitz, M. 1993. Zionist Culture and West European Jewry Before the First World War. CUP, 56.

1 H E ONLY LITTLE CORNER OF T H E GREAT BRITISH E M P I R E IN W H I C H N O ONE EVER PLAYED CRICKET‫״‬ RECIPROCAL RELATIONS IN BRITISH PALESTINE H E A L T H AND EDUCATION ( 1 9 3 0 - 3 9 ) MARCELLA SIMONI University College London, U K

T h e aim of this paper is to outline the general scheme of the reciprocal relations between the numerous bodies providing welfare in Palestine in the mid-years of the Bridsh Mandate, 1 the 1930 s. T h e history of welfare development remains one of the fundamental issues to be studied in order to analyse and comprehend the birth and radicalisation of the discrepancies within the populations inhabiting the land of Palestine. But the history of the cultural intertwining of all the bodies involved in welfare provision in the 1930 s, offers us an even clearer picture of h o w two of the main plagues afflicting the successive history of the country developed. I refer here to the creation of cultural and social hierarchies based on ethnic cleavages and to the growth and consolidation of nationalistic feelings. This paper is divided into three parts. T h e first introductory part delineates the importance of the category of welfare as a research tool for the analysis of short and long term political processes. T h e second part deals with the active agents of the welfare policies and their reciprocal relations. T h e third and conelusive part suggests that the social processes begun in these very years are accountable for the radicalisation of the political confrontation between Jews and Arabs before 1948 and afterwards.

Welfare T h e relationship between the individual, the family, the state and welfare agents is one of the keys to understand the political nature, and the social aims of a particular form of government. This assumption is valid for an organised state, for a nation state, for a country with a definite national identity, but also for one in the process of nation-building. 2 Welfare is henceforth a valid category to in-

T h e Mandate over Palestine was assigned to Great Britain by the League of Nations at the San Remo Conference in 1920. It became official only on the 29 th of September 1923, following the Lausanne Treaty. T h e 1929 connotation for the word welfare barely corresponds to what we understand by welfare today. Generally speaking, welfare was in those years on the Continent a means for the state's control and intrusion in its citizens private life, to structure free-time and to invade family

vestigate the characteristics of the country's development, and to see how it influenced not only the material process of nation-building, but also the conceptual shaping of the political and social ideas behind the formation of the different national identities within that nation. In a country like the 1930 s Palestine, welfare (the analysis of the population's social conditions, their cultural approach to their own improvement, their own capability of forming the structures for their self-renovation) offers a privileged perspective on the growth of patterns of economic, 3 social and political differentiation. Welfare as such encompasses a whole series of other problems, related to labour organisation, 4 colonisation practices, political activities, treatment of prisoners, the (in)fam0us question of the status quo, periodical rioting, immigration, land sales5 etc. All these themes fall out of the space assigned to this paper. In this context therefore, we have to limit our understanding of welfare as the social and cultural organisation behind the two pillar problems of health and education. Welfare is a broad cultural and social category to investigate internal political relationship, means of sustaining authority, power and identity (the creation of political and cultural hierarchies), means of asserting difference and distinction both socially and culturally and of implementing ethnic, social and cultural divisions among the population. Our instruments for this analysis will be schools, hospitals, voluntary associations, religious and missionary bodies and the state, institutions devoted to the organisation and the transmission of welfare itself. Education and health policies are also fundamental to investigate the conflicting cultural influxes that infiltrated Palestinian life in its two longest lasting aspects: religion and nationalism.

Welfare providers and their reciprocal relations The material agents of welfare provision in the 1930 s Palestine can be sorted in three main groups: a) the British administration, b) the Missionary bodies, c) the Yishutf s 6 social organisation. Bearing in mind that each of these three groups perceived very differendy the reasons of its being present in the area, its roles in the social and political context, its goals and the section of the population it aimed at,7 we can start by saying that health and education policies were trig-

3

4

5

6 7

space. Examples can be found in most of the European states' social policies, in particular of totalitarian régimes in Italy, Germany, Spain, Portugal. Halevi, N . 1983. " T h e political economy of absorptive capacity: growth and cycles in Jewish Palestine." Middle Eastern Studies 19 (4), 456-469; Smith, B. J. 1993. The Roots of Separatism in Palestine, British Economic Policy, 1920-1929. London, N e w York. Ben-Porat, A. 1986. Between Class and Nation. The Formation of the Jewish Working Class in the Period before Israel's Statehood. N e w York, London; Lockman, Z. 1993. "Railway workers and relational history: Arab and Jewish in British ruled Palestine." Comparative Studies in Society and History 35,4, 601-627. Porath, Y. 1976. The Land problem as a factor in Relations among Arabs, Jews and the Mandatory Government. In The Palestinians in the Middle East Conflict. Ed. G. Ben Dor. Tel Aviv. T h e Jewish Community in Palestine. Freisal, E. 1987. " T h o u g h peculiar lens: Zionism and Palestine in British diaries 1927-1936." Middle Eastern Studies 29,3 419-444; Sherman A. J. 1997. Mandate Days. British Lives in Palestine. 1918-1948. Thames and Hudson; Makdisi U. 1997. "Reclaiming the Land of the Bible: Missionary Secularism, and Evangelical Modernity." The American Historical Review 102,3, 680-713.

gered or hindered by the reciprocal relations of their policy makers. The analysis of their activities has been done confronting a few principles that these three groups considered founding of their activities. The British Administration upheld the notion of co-operation and of a shared Palestinian identity between Arabs and Jews. Economic development and religious influence was promoted by missionary bodies. The concept of nation building was the leading idea behind the Yishutis leadership and course of action.

British Administration and Welfare Since the late 1920 s co-operation became the British strategy to unite the bodies involved in welfare management, sustained by the idea of embedding British values in social policies. This was meant to generate with time a fundamentally united population, regardless of the fact that by the mid—1930 s a very advanced and organised Jewish social organisation had materialised after difficult but solid beginnings. Financial concerns set the tone of the British social policies. The Treasury upheld the notion that the "capital equipment" of Palestine had to be kept as far as possible within the power of the country to pay for it (i.e. Jewish medical services' standards had to be lowered, or "run on a less extravagant basis", in Colonel Heron's 8 words). The Colonial Office however could not conceal their admiration for the working model of the Jewish welfare organisations. Generally speaking the Treasury showed themselves very uneasy about the future of Palestine and inclined to think that it was already over equipped, having regard to its present and prospective financial resources [...]. O n e cannot but feel considerable sympathy for the Jewish organisations which have done such excellent health work in Palestine and now find themselves financially strained. It is natural enough that they should expect Government to take over some of the burden from them [...].' Officially British educational and medical institutions were really directed at Muslim and Christian Arabs, 10 there where Missionary bodies were not making up for the Government's lack of institutions. At the same time Anglican Missions intended to promote British values and interests, believed to offer long term solutions to a widening cultural, social and political Jewish-Arab gap. The need for Palestine of the British Mission Hospital is not less urgent now. The British Administration has no safer asset for creating prestige and no

8 9

10

Head of the Department of Health of the British Government. Public Record Office, London (henceforth PRO), Series Colonial Office (henceforth CO), 733/223/4. T h r o u g h o u t the Mandate the Arab population's demographic growth was, between 1922 and 1947, of 120 %; this caused a vast movement of the Arab population, characterised by urbanisation on the one hand and a growing flow from East to West on the other. Haifa's Arab population grew by 87 % between 1922 and 1931 and Jaffa's by 63 %. Jerusalem's dominance declined. In 1922, Jerusalem had the largest Arab population. By 1944, it could count the third largest Arab population. See Migdal, J. S. 1980. Palestinian Society and Politics. Princeton. Kimmerling, Β. and Migdal, J. S. 1993. Palestinians: the making of a people. N e w York; Khalidi, W. 1984. Before their Diaspora, A Photographic Histoiy of the Palestinians, 1876-1948. Washington DC: Institute For Palestine Studies.

surer ally in breaking down opposing prejudices than these institutions dotted here and there throughout the country." 11 Drastic economic stringencies on the one hand and Imperial interests on the other led to British schools pairing with religious ones administered by missionary bodies. Of these the more contiguous to the ruling class was the Anglican "Jerusalem and the East Mission" (J&EM). The major consequence of this co-operation, and the more burdened with long term repercussions, was the formation of an élite culture, and therefore, of a cultural élite, instead of the promotion of a culturally egalitarian society. Despite the country's primary need for basic instruction first, higher education was privileged instead. N o law for primary or secondary compulsory education ever existed. Until 1927 no ordinance regulated the country's schools, sanitary conditions, teachers, curricula, examinations etc.12 Despite the acknowledgement, as early as 1926, that two separate school systems existed, one for Jews and one for Arabs, the object of the Government remained an administrative control to be carried out through the development of a "public system of education" where "English is taught in the upper classes of the Jewish Elementary schools in towns and in the larger colonies." 13 The 1927 law, confirmed by the 1933 Education Ordinance ultimately meant that, together with a higher and more organised standard in education, administrative control was exercised through inspection while political control was similarly accomplished through means of financial contribution. It also came to signify that among the two parallel systems the Jewish one could offer an almost total coverage for children education. Among rural and urban Arabs only 58 and 57 % of children applying for education respectively could be satisfied.14 The Peel's Commission decision on partition (1937) was taken after a complete analysis of the educational system, as it had developed until that day in Palestine. In the same year the Arab schools provided for 2 0 % of the Arab school population. 15 Health provision and administration reproduced some of the mechanisms outlined above. One fundamental distinction however has to be introduced here. While the British administrative control in education contributed to the cultural Jewish-Arab gap widening, it was a social distinction which achieved similar results in matters of health. At the same time, without the dominating British scientific rigour in sanitary, hygienical, medical and, from the beginning of the 1930 s, preventive policies, no development of any medical structure would have ever been possible. Campaigns against infectious disease, towards education to health and hygiene, a whole series of new sanitary regulations, demolishment of filthy and dangerous areas, water channelisation, rules on food sale and conservation, were all 11

12 13 14

15

Middle East Center Archives, St. Antony's College, O x f o r d (henceforth M E Q , Jerusalem and the East Mission Papers (henceforth J&EM) box 58, file 3, Report of St. Luke's Hospital, Haifa. N o v e m b e r 1922 to N o v e m b e r 1923. PRO C O 733/141/7. PRO C O 733/131/5. Colonial Office, Colonial n. 134, Palestine Royal Commission, Minutes of Evidence Heard at Pubäc Sessions. London, 1937. Evidence of Mr. H. E. Bowman, Director of Education. 27 th N o v e m b e r 1936, 48. Ibid, Evidence of Mr. A. Katznelson, Professor I . J . Klieger, Miss H. Szold, 28 December 1937, 208.

legislated during the first decade and in the mid-years of the Mandate. If the British Department of Health fought epidemics and infectious disease, the medical work in public health was left to missions and charitable institutions ("a main feature of the country") or to the growingly self-sufficient Jewish medical organisations. The latter acquired an autonomy, legitimisation and recognition that made of it the main health system of the country, serving primarily Jews, even if they did not meet the government sanitary requirements. The British medical authority tolerated and even supported Jewish private tuberculosis wards and mental asylums which mushroomed in the country when the British supply of medical structures could not fulfil the overwhelming demand. 16 The Yishuv's welfare leaders such as Henrietta Szold, 17 head of the Welfare Department of the Palestine Zionist Executive, or such as Dr. Yassky, the head of the Hadassah Medical Organization (HMO), of Dr. Perlson, head of the Kupat-Holim (KH), 18 all resented the lack of initiative of the Palestine Government. While Hadassah contributed in no small measure to the hospitalisation and care of Arabs as well as of Jews, social and cultural distinctions between the two were such that they overwhelmed any effort towards an equal care, despite the fact that illness fell without distinction of ethnic or religious denomination. The creation of a shared Palestinian identity by all means failed to come into existence. T w o were the main reasons, beyond those enumerated above. First of all, if the Mandate incorporated the Balfour Declaration, only religious relationships were possible. Arab political institutions lacked the explicit recognition and autonomy that Jewish Palestinian institutions came to enjoy. Secondly, the years 1930-1936 witnessed the British political consolidation following the 1929 disturbances. In such a scenario, where political sovereignty was believed to have the same meaning of security, social policies and their implementation could not escape this basic contradiction. In Henrietta Szold's words: Now, if one asks the question, which is preferable, security or these [social] services, my answer in part is that whilst security, of course, is a primary requisite, it also contributes to security to have those services of an educational and social character spread over larger portions of the community with a lower cultural level. 19

16

17

18

19

Documentation on this subject can be found in Israel State Archives, Jerusalem (henceforth ISA) Mandate Series (henceforth M) 1576 54/18, ISA M 1576 5 4 / 4 , ISA M 1577 5 4 / 3 0 ISA M 1577 54/45, P R O C O 7 3 3 / 1 5 5 / 1 3 , P R O C O 7 3 3 / 1 8 4 / 9 , Central Zionist Archives, Jerusalem (henceforth CZA) Series S (henceforth S) 4 8 / 4 3 J / 1 1 3 . Henrietta Szold's role in the consolidation and management of welfare services in Palestine is of the utmost relevance. See Dash, J. 1979. Summoned to Jerusalem: The Life of Henrietta S?0ld. New York; Fineman I. 1961. Woman of Valor, the Life of Henrietta S-old, 1860-1945. N e w York, 1961; Krantz, H. 1995. Daughter of My People-Henrietta S?old and Hadassah. Northvale NJ; Kustanovitz S. E. 1990, Henrietta S ?old-Israel's Helping Hand. New York; Lowenthal, M. 194Z Henrietta S?old, Life and Letters. New York; Shargel B. R. ed. 1997. Lost Love-Thc Untold Story of Henrietta S ?old. Philadelphia; Zeitlin, R 1952. Henrietta S ?old: Record of a Life. New York. Schvarts, S. 1997. Kupat-Holim Haclalit. The General Sick Fund Its Development as a Major Factor in the Health Services in Eret? Israel, 1911-1937 (Hebr.). Sede Boqer Campus. Colonial Office, Colonial n. 134, Palestine Royal Commission... Evidence of Mr. A. Katznelson, Professor I.J. Klieger, Miss H. Szold, 28 December 1937, 208.

Missionary Bodies and Welfare Different denominational missionary bodies operated in the field of welfare. Their presence in Palestine was rooted in 19th century European political strategies.20 Antagonistic relations developed with Jewish institutions, Catholic and Protestant ones. The YMCA represented the exception (through its secretary Heinrichs Waldo Hundey), 21 co-operating with the British administration on the one hand and with Yishuv on the other. Reciprocal antagonism between religious institutions mainly developed because of the prominent position accorded by the British administration to the Anglican bodies: the 'J&EM' and the 'Order of St. John in Jerusalem'. The latter's relations with the British Government, for one example, are indicative of that making up for lack of British activities, mentioned above. The Warden of the St. John's Ophthalmic Hospital, was appointed Honorary Consulting O p h thalmic Surgeon of the Government of Palestine, responsible for the treatment of ophthalmic diseases in the whole country. Most of the high ranking British officers were also knighted by the Order of St. John. O n e of the most interesting examples is that of Miss Margaret Nixon, D a m e of the Order since 1919 and Welfare inspector of the Government since 1921, followed by that of Humphrey Bowman and Colonel G. W. Heron, Stewart Perowne (Palestine Government Education Service since 1927 after working as the Bishop Secretary) and others. The relationship between the two was therefore very close, not only in their social work, but primarily in their political work and social attitude. What united them was the feeling of belonging to a British élite ruling society, c o m m o n to all those who had served, either as missionaries, doctors, or Government officers in colonial milieux other than Palestine. In 1935 a missionary opened his report on Medical Work emphasising the charitable aspect of their own work "supplying a grave lacunae in the Government scheme", and at the same time "a fruitful avenue of approach to nonChristians." 22 These were both Arab and Jews, as missionary schools and hospitals were open to all groups. Urban Arabs used missions' welfare services together with the Jewish poor. Hadassah and K H , in a constant mutual opposition which in reality fostered progress and improvement of medical standards in the country, could not however provide for those members of their own community w h o were unable to pay their respective membership fees. In this context we have to read the worried and maybe a litde distorted words for Jewish children lost to the Jewish faith because educated in mission schools. A mission school of the London Jews' society is in the neighbourhood, ever ready to seize hold of the Jewish children and bring them up in the Christian faith. In these rat-infested hovels, around these evil-smelling doorways, sit the children-lisdess, pale, ignorant of play and games of any kind, spending hour after hour sitting still, often in the dark, loosing energy and vitality at this early 20

21

22

Schwake, N. 1996. Hospitals and European colonialpolicy in the 19^ and early 20* centuries. In Health and Disease in the Holy Land Studies in the Histoiy and the sociology of Medicine from Ancient Times to the Present. Ed. M. Waserman and S. Kottek. Lewiston NY. Yale Divinity Library (henceforth YDL) Miscellaneous Personal Papers Collection, Waldo Heinrichs Huntley Papers, Record G r o u p 30, box 30. Waldo Heinrichs Huntley had to resign in 1934. M E C , J & E M Box 58, fde 2, [1935-36],

age. Many are the children of professional beggars-mosdy they belong to Moroccan, Persian, Yemenite, Baghdad or Aleppo Jewish families. 23

Almost ten year later the same preoccupations, in the medical field this time, were expressed by Miss Szold. It is a lamentable fact that the poor of Jerusalem must seek refuge in the English Mission hospital, which is occupied entirely by Jewish patients (to the number of about 1,300).24 But missions did not aim at poor Jews only. In a more ambitious and long-term political project, they tried on the one hand to defend British prestige in the area. O n the other hand, by adopting one section of the population for whom welfare services were barely provided for, they protected and shielded the Arab national cause. The creation of an Arab leadership through the establishment of a British Institute for Higher Studies to side the Hebrew University was proposed in 1925, 1932, 1936 and then abandoned. 25 Other alternative schemes were found then, such as exchange scholarships with the Universities of London, Oxford or Cambridge for the creation of a loyal class of civil servants. Arab doctors were sent to specialise in London, 26 together with architects and engineers. The educated Christian Arabs, many of whom were employed in the Palestine government service in the last days of the Mandate, became the protégés of those missions which remained in Israel after 1948. Additionally, the already poor contacts between Jewish and Christian authorities did not improve when, immediately after 1948 and following the "birth of the Palestinian refugee problem", most of ecclesiastic properties in Israel were expropriated and confiscated, and until today only partially restored to their original owners.

The Yishuv and Welfare The provision of welfare services was here consciously confined to the Jewish section of the population, with a more structured and advanced system than Government's or the missions' ones. Jewish welfare was represented by an overlapping number of organisations which operated geographically on a vaster scale, and with a much broader range of activities than any other body involved in welfare in Palestine. Proof of a greater vitality of the Jewish community, and of a more organised and structured civil society, the Va'ad Leumi (with its Va'ad Hachinuch on the one hand and its Va'ad Habriuth on the other), the K H (1911), the H M O 23

Mrs. N. Bentwich 1926. "Jerusalem Kindergarten and Day Nursery." In The Jewish Chronicle, The Jewish Chronicle Women's Supplement, May 21, 1926-5686. O n the 1 1 o f J u n e 1926 we read a letter to the Director by Rabbi Dr. Salis Daiches: "When I expressed my astonishment to the mother (...) that she allowed her children to attend a mission school, the only reply I received was that the Jewish schools would not allow her children without a fee and being unable to pay for the education of her children she had no alternative but to send them to the mission schools. She thought however that no harm was being done, as "the children did not go there for the purpose of receiving religious instruction, but only to receive a good education and to learn English."

24

Hadassah Medical Organization Archives, N e w York, (henceforth HDS) Series 32, Box 32, Folder 14. PRO C O 733/155/6. PRO C O 733/340/3.

25 26

(1913), the Histadrut (1923), its teachers', doctors' and nurses' syndicates, the Hebrew University (1925), the joint Hadassah-University hospital (1936), constituted the backbone of Jewish welfare sustaining the whole nation-building effort. It created in fact the possibilities for the development of the welfare structures which became after 1948 the spine of the State of Israel. Jewish educational work was considered as one of the brightest factors in the upbuilding of the Jewish National H o m e in Palestine, being Hebrew the only language of instruction in all the schools. Far from being united, a tripartite system of schools had developed already between 1920 and 1926. Education was split between Mizrahi schools, Labour schools and General schools. The religious groups were already trying in the late 1920 s to establish rival institutions to Labour schools in colonies and villages, attracting pupils and their parents as for the documented case of Balfouria. 27 Health care witnessed, in the 1930 s, a growing animosity in the relations between the H M O and K H . Based on a system of health insurance, it provided its members with a reasonable health care system of clinics and hospitals. In 1932 Hadassah adopted the policy of transferring its various health services to the local Jewish Communities. 28 Fearing that political entanglements with the Palestinian political bodies would hamper its programs' effectiveness, it adopted in 1935 the role of a private American Zionist organization working for the general welfare of the Yishuv i.e. its board of health. The practice of medicine, started on a rudimentary base, sparked off also thanks to the German Jewish immigration. In this tri-partite welfare system, we can say that the Jewish bodies were at least ten years ahead of the rest, either in education or health. But it is necessary to say as well that the social and cultural differentiations deepened by this complex system, were in these years accepted, encouraged and finally exploited for political purposes after 1936, within the Jewish system, as well as towards the Arab population. This dangerous gap, left unattended for too long, can account for the Jewish Agency's political and cultural prominence after 1948.

The dangerous heritage. Historical conclusion In this picture where welfare policies were dictated by the very different nature and aims of the participants, financial considerations were at the base of the relationship between the Yishuv and the Government. Political factors instead determined the connection between the latter and the Jerusalem and the East Mission. These relations turned into mutual mistrust and in open rivalry and competition. These bodies competed for the Government's support, esteem, favour and political recognition. They also tried to reach different sectors of the population at the same time establishing a practice of division that remained

27 28

CZA S 48/27 " D r . Yassky [...] said that at present the policy of the Hadassah has been to transfer the responsibility for medical services to the local Jewish community and to decrease its grants accordingly, with the eventual object of concentrating its attention on its Jerusalem hospital, which would become the Hospital of the University, and on child welfare activities." P R O C O 7 3 3 / 2 2 3 / 4 ,

permanently after 1939. They exploited a division that was latent to make it permanent and to cement it in the society. In terms of the cultural organisation, the problem can be identified in the eternal clash between the western tradition and the natives' culture. What this meant and implied in the case of the 1930 s Palestine fell in the social sphere: in the Jewish dynamic growth of the civil society's organisation versus the static Arab family's structure, hampering communication within and outside the Arab community and hindering the advancement of education, especially of its female component. This meant that a whole series of professions, such as nursing and teaching in elementary schools, was not covered in the Arab community. As health and education are both means to perpetuate a society's existence and to guarantee the possibilities of its advancement and self-renewal, under a physical or under a spiritual point of view) this also came to signify that no self-perpetuating institutions were secured for the Arab population in those years. Against all these differences broke the proclaimed notion of a Palestinian identity to be shared by Arabs and Jews, and also its development. Economic development also failed because of substantial lack of capital. Nation-building succeeded, but a huge social, cultural and political gap was left in heritage to the new b o m Israelis, after the British left. It may be asked what else is left of thirty years of British rule in the country, apart from the red letter boxes. I will start by saying, together with David Vital, that "Jewish Palestine may have been the only little corner of the great British Empire in which no one ever played cricket." 29 Very litde is his answer. The limited impact of the British on the Jews while they were still present in the country as rulers can be a first explanation, followed by the fact that no class of Anglo-Palestinian Jews ever evolved, and that no English type schools for Jewish children was ever built. In the above mentioned article Palestine as such, as more than a mere geographical expression, is acknowledged as the greatest British result. Hygienical improvement, sanitary conditions and a remarkable work in medical provision can also be credited, together with a long list of public works. If we distance ourselves from material achievements and focus on political and social results, including the judicial system, we find a process of social construction which set the tone then for a controversy yet unresolved.

29

Vital, D. 1992. "Bread upon the waters. The legacy of the British in Jewish Palestine." In T U J u n e 5.

JEWISH MODERNISM T H E H I D D E N M E A N I N G S OF G E R S H O M S C H O L E M ' S SABBATEI

SEVI

A N T H O N Y D A V I D SKINNER University of Chicago, USA Even if differently than you once suggested, I have made myself into one of the figures who camouflages himself in famous paintings. Gershom Scholem to Joseph Weiss. March, I960 1

T h e tide of this paper is somewhat misleading. It is not my point that there is something inherendy " m o d e r n " about Judaism. Rather, I will attempt something much more modest—namely, to show how certain Jewish thinkers in Germany of the 1920s and 30s adapted Jewish history to their own contemporary needs and desires. They sacked and plundered holy sources, stripped them of their cultic aura, culled them for their "desirable" figures, motifs, and ideas, and reformulated them according to a modern, secular sensibility. They sought to "feel" the past—and to discover in it something new, relevant, and personal. Archival sources, religious figures, past heroes, saints, and villains became allegories of m o d e r n urban life. It is in this sense that G e r s h o m Scholem's masterpiece, Sabbatei Sevi: The Mystical Messiah, was more than the product of a skilled philologist and historian; its author was a "modernist" w h o "camouflaged" himself into his scholarship. Elusively, Scholem himself admitted to the presence of a " h i d d e n " and personal dimension to his work. Joseph Weiss, w h o m Scholem considered his best student, once remarked in a local Tel Aviv newspaper appeared that a strange "incongruence" existed between Scholem's "very lively personality and his seemingly dead scholarship." Scholem's highly charged voice rarely penetrated into his dryly objective works, said Weiss, lending his works an "impersonal anonymity." But u p o n closer inspection, his teacher's philological studies appeared as "Scholem incognito." Like a medieval painter w h o "paints his own face" onto a figure in a crowd, he "camouflaged" himself into his scholarly compositions. Weiss went on to note that only those w h o knew Scholem's "singularly sculpted personality" could decipher these deeper and more hidden motifs. Scholem responded to the article by complimenting Weiss for his quite "exquisite and audacious suggestion." This does not mean that Scholem made up his facts. Scholem was an exceptionally vigilant and exacting historian and philologist, carefully extracting his

This quote comes from a letter reprinted in Peter Schaefer, '"Die Philologie der Kabbala ist nur eine Projektion auf eine Flaeche': G e r s h o m Scholem ueber die wahren Absichten seines Kabbalastudiums." Jcivish Studies Quarterly 5, 1998, 22.

materials from the vast quarry of the Jewish past. Even if he let his materials "speak for themselves," Scholem alone decided which source was allowed to speak and how. He was a craftsman who formed his materials to conform to his own demands. Let me begin with his materials. Like a montage artist, Scholem found his materials in hitherto despised or ignored sources. He spoke of the "stammering symbol-language" of Sevi's disciples and the "vituperations of the opponents." 2 Scholem fit into his philological mosaic letters written by Sevi himself and by his "prophet," Nathan of Gaza. He also turned to "legends" about Sevi to unravel the mysteries surrounding him. Legends, he believed, often "expresses more truth than an accurate enumeration of facts, and the legends surrounding a great man often tell us more about him than historical research ever can." 3 He spoke of "many and diverse rumors" and of "vague and hazy reports" passing through a "filter of popular legends." 4 His book "deciphered" these "halfarticulated utterings about mystical secrets, symbols, and images," "transforming" them into "invaluable keys to an understanding of important historical processes and into matters worthy of profound analysis and serious discussion." 5 Scholem then bolted all of these sources, a dazzling array of citations, into his book. The result was well suited for his cultural Zionism. Scholem believed that Jews must actively work to secularize and deepen Jewish culture. The new Jewish homeland in Palestine was to be for him a Utopian project based upon labor, Hebrew revival, and scholarship. Far from fleeing the realities of the modern world, as many anti-Zionist critics claimed, he viewed Zionism as the only chance for Jews qua Jews to return to history and to take up their place within m o d e m humanity. In his book on Sevi Scholem thus focussed his attention upon a radicalized generation of young 17th century kabbalists he called ‫״‬Utopians with a sense of crisis and with an avidity for the new age, who would shed no tears for the passing away of the old state of things." They wanted to change history, to transform Judaism, and to return to a healthy, normal national life free of the oppression of galut and the unbending conservatism of tradition. Youthful scholars and mystics longed to seize control of their own fate. They yearned for a "Messiah." This messianic urge Scholem identified among early modern believers was very similar in function, though in a different form, to his own cultural Zionism. He said about his generation of German-Jewish intellectuals: "We are now able to perceive the spark of Jewish life and the constructive aspirations even in phenomena which Orthodox Jewish tradition has denounced with full force." None of this is particularly new, as the connection between Scholem's political ideas and his scholarship has long been recognized. As I hope to show, however, Scholem packed even more into the story. In one place he used the expression "existentialism" to describe the deepest emotional force behind his

2 3 4 5

Scholem, G. 1973. Sabbalai Sen': The Mystical Messiah. Princeton, 929. Ibid. Ibid, 332. Ibid, χ.

"new form of thinking." 6 Just as his pupil Weiss observed, he "painted" his own face into his characters. Beyond obvious differences in details, the relationship between Nathan and Sevi bears a "functional" resemblance to a friendship that deeply influenced Scholem's own life. Sabbatei Sevi: The Mystical Messiah can be read as an allegory of a story later recounted in Walter Benjamin: the Story of a Friendship. Both authored by one of the 20th century's master textual interpreters, the "ventriloquist" projected his voice into the figure of Nathan, Benjamin's into Sevi. There are many parallels joining the two books. Scholem gave Benjamin and Sevi a similar appearance, oddly analogous sexual problems, and an almost identical psychology: both were ingenious, self-destructive melancholies. The parallels between Nathan and Scholem are just as striking. For Scholem, both were committed scholars, experts in Lurianic Kabbalah; and both looked to an older charismatic figure as a model. For this paper, the similarity I want to explore is Nathan's and Scholem's various responses to the "apostasy" of the men they most admired: Sevi and Walter Benjamin. I will begin with the story of Sevi and his prophet. The basic story may be well known. Here I only want to describe the central drama. Sevi was a genius who, due to the prompting of a brilliant young scholar named Nathan of Gaza, accepted the role of Messiah in 1666. For a time it looked as if the Jewish world would have its messiah and the messiah would have his prophet, Nathan. But Sevi was a deeply flawed genius. Even if he moved the world with his charisma, he could never move outside of himself. He remained a prisoner of his "psychic rhythm with its ups and downs." More seriously, he wholly lacked both the moral fiber and the real desire to change the world. Though he accepted the office of Messiah, he never quite knew was this entailed. Proclaimed Messiah in 1666, he began to give himself to increasingly "bizarre and strange acts." Moved by a "dizzy whirl of illuminate exaltation," the Messiah's "enthusiastic and eschatological transvaluation of values" stirred up opposition among traditional Jewish leaders; his "nihilism" also caught the attention of the Sultan, who threatened him with death unless he converted to Islam. Without much thought, Sevi donned a turban—the sign of conversion— and turned to Mecca in his prayers. 7 The world's and Nathan's dreams were shattered. It was the prophet Nathan who saved the message from the wayward ways of the genius. T o do so Nathan undertook what Scholem called a "dialectical explosion within traditional linguistic and conceptual usage." 8 Nathan proved himself a master at symbol-making. Through his "allegorical and typological method" he made full use of the ancient rabbinic adage that "scripture has seventy different meanings...." Nathan "combined whatever notions and texts served his purpose," filling traditional images and figures of speech with new

6

7 8

Here Scholem cited Margarete Susman. See: Gershom Scholem, Judaica 2 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1977), 204. Sevi, 853. Ibid, 803.

contents. 9 His "audacious and novel ... exegedcal m e t h o d " often inverted the original meaning of texts. 10 And where the ancient texts failed to yield what "exegedcal ingenuity and ardent faith required of them, they were, on occasion, misquoted or falsified." 11 Nathan's "diligent search of ancient texts ... yielded a profusion of hidden allusions that the Messiah would have to apostatize." 12 I would n o w like to turn to Scholem's story of Benjamin, where a remarkably related drama unfolds. Scholem met Walter Benjamin in 1915, who dazzled him by the ingenious "sparks that often flew out f r o m his dark thoughts." Older and intellectually far more mature, Benjamin had by then already developed many of the basic tenets of his later philosophy, a philosophy of language that was to uncover the "secrets" of being. Benjamin freely shared his views with his eager new friend. By the end of the next year scattered conversations began to pull the young scholar into the older man's orbit. Scholem n o w looked upon Benjamin as his spiritual and intellectual mentor. What impressed him most was a hand-written draft to an essay he received from Benjamin in October of 1916. The treatise, " O n Languages as Such and on the Languages of Man," added a mythic foundation to Benjamin's emerging thought. Judging from Scholem's diaries and letters, after he read and absorbed Benjamin's letter he began to reinterpret his Jewish "ideas" according to a Benjaminian method. When he tried to translate the essay into Hebrew he felt overwhelmed by a series of "miracles." He transcribed it, typed it up, and gave out copies to friends. Particular terms that appeared in it n o w became permanent features of his new vocabulary. During this period, Scholem decided to "go with Benjamin." He began to devoted himself to the "theory of language in the Kabbalah." 13 The young scholar also began to see in him a "tremendous prophetic, "moral" and "spiritual" figure.14 He even spoke of an experience of "positive redemption (.Erlösungj)."15 T o illustrate his "purity and absoluteness," Scholem likened him to a traditional rabbinical scholar (Schriftgelehrte) who, finding himself in a secular world, seeks out his Text (Schrift).16 " O t h e r than my friend, I know of no one else who, not only through the ingeniousness of what he knows, but also through the perfect purity of his being, can become such a teacher to me." He praised in particular Benjamin's method of commentary, rooted assumed —his younger friend—in Benjamin's interest in "Hebrew texts of Jewish literature, whose commentary represented for him a kind of Utopian point or refuge." 17 The excitement did not last long, though. Scholem's writings on Benjamin narrate a story of failed expectations, bitterness, misunderstanding, and ultimately tragedy. Benjamin's "attraction to the world of Judaism remained an 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

16 17

Ibid, 721. Ibid., 814. Ibid,m. Ibid, 720. Scholem, G . 1976. Walter benjamin: Die Geschichte einer Freundschaft. F r a n k f u r t , 107. Ibid., 69. Briefe, XI. Freundschaft, 70. Ibid., 157.

abstraction"; he "denied" his true calling.18 After 1927 began a period of "disappointments, crises, twists and turns." Due to his "restlessness" Benjamin repeatedly set off on journeys, though not to Palestine. 19 And instead of learning Hebrew, he went to an island with his Communist lover. Brecht and Theodor Adorno, not Scholem, were his closest collaborators. With this, commented Scholem, Benjamin disavowed all the "hopes of earlier years ...." He "no longer" wanted to have a "true confrontation with Judaism." 20 Benjamin committed suicide after the Nazi invasion of France. He hence never made it to Palestine and could never develop the new theology Scholem hoped for. Scholem, however, devoted much of later career to assuring that the "message" survived the tragedy. Beginning in the early 1960s, he worked hard at getting Benjamin's works known. Indeed, all of Scholem's clearly non-scholarly works—Walter Benjamin: The Story of a Friendship, From Berlin to Jerusalem (1977), and the Correspondence of Walter Benjamin and Gershom Scholem (1980)—were in part devoted to this cause. He even identified materialism as a "disguise" (Verkleidung hiding Benjamin's "true and substantial" beliefs. Since materialism functioned as a mere heuristic principle, Benjamin's "metaphysical source and spirit (Quellgeisi) continued to unfold." 21 Brecht notwithstanding, he remained "instinctively" "oriented towards Jewish ideas." 22 Benjamin continued to nurture his "true" Jewish self; he clung to his "messianic beliefs" in religion, philosophy, and literature; he remained in "constant reliance upon Jewish categories, visible to the very end in all of his writings." He remained a "genius of pure metaphysics," a "theologian marooned in the profane." 23 Judaism "consciously" endured as the "foundation of his being ... and ultimate aim of his thought." "Like the Kabbalists, [he] experienced through language the deepest connection to true theological thinking." 24 In both the case of Sevi/Nathan and Benjamin/Scholem, a weak and flawed and ultimately tragic messianic figure was redeemed by a brilliant friend, who turned tragedy and personal loss into a powerful new Jewish myth. This, I suggest, is the deepest and most interesting link between the two books. In 1978 Hayden White declared that "there have been no significant attempts at surrealistic, expressionistic, or existentialist historiography." 25 If the above reading is correct and Scholem combined his expertise as an historian and philologist with autobiography, Sabbatei Sevi can be seen as an early example of "existentialist" historiography. Scholem's method of speaking through history also confirms the judgement of one other historian, that "the metaphorical dimension in historiography is more powerful than the literal or factual dimensions." 26 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

26

Ibid, 286. Ibid., 222. Ibid., 201. Ibid., 210. Judaica 2, 220. Ibid, 212. Ibid, 219. Hayden, W. 1978. " T h e Burden of History." Tropics of Discourse: Essays in Cultural Criticism, Baltimore: J o h n s I lopkins University Press, 42,3. Ankersmit, F. R. 1989. "Historiography and Postmodernism." History and Theory 28, 152.

" M I S S I O N OF M E R C Y " AND T H E S H I P THAT C A M E T O O LATE A M E R I C A N J E W I S H M E D I C A L RELIEF T O PALESTINE DURING WORLD W A R I SANDY SUFIAN N e w Y o r k University, U S A &

SHIFRA SHVARTS B e n G u r i o n U n i v e r s i t y , Israel

Story of Sterling O n February of 1916, an American ship named the U.S. Collier Sterling set sail from Norfolk, Virginia for Jaffa, Palesdne. It carried 87 cases of medical supplies worth about $18,000' and 95 cases of Matzot in order to relieve the starvad o n and disease within the fledgling Jewish community of Palesdne during World War One. 2 T h e Sterling, however, never got there. Its mission was cut off. A mission iniriated and funded by the American Jewish community and aided by the State and Navy Departments of the United States of America. A mission, as it was argued by the Secretary of the Joint Distribudon Committee to the Assistant Secretary of State Phillips at the time (1916), that was "of the highest importance to the whole of the inhabitants of that country (noncombatants) irrespective of race and creed." 3 Instead of Palestine, the Sterling arrived at Naples, Italy where the majority of its supplies were transferred to a merchant steamer which then sailed to Alexandria, Egypt. 4 T h e medicines and matzot were then held there indefinitely. This was at first, due to the French blockade on the Eastern Mediterranean. After continual diplomacy between American Jewish leaders, such as Oscar Straus and Jacob Schiff, 5 as well as the

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This was a huge amount of money considering that an American physician's annual salary during this time was $2000. O n e kilo of sugar cost 5 francs in Palestine during this time. O n e kilo of Quinine was 240 francs in Palestine. O n e dollar was equivalent to 5 francs = 20 pennies English m o n e y = 20 Turkish grush. Letter from Lucas to Commandant and other officers of the United States Navy Yard. February 14, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. Letter from Lucas to William Phillips, Assistant Secretary of State. Feb. 4, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. The leftover portion of its supplies, mosdy some cases of matzos, were thrown overboard because the steam carrier did not have enough room. Press Notice. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123.

American, French and British governments, 6 the blockade was specially lifted for the landing of these supplies at Jaffa. The story of the Sterling raises the following historical questions: What was the general context and historical background which compelled such an endeavor to be undertaken? Why would the American government become so intricately involved in this particular mission? W h o were the main actors in such a project? What is the significance of the story of the Sterling for the future of American medical assistance/participation, especially Jewish aid, to Palestine? The authors of this article propose three main points: first, that as far as we know this mission was one of the first cases that presents the American use of medicine for a dual purpose—one of humanitarianism and the other for preserving economic interests in Palestine; 7 second, that this endeavor illustrated the political strength of the American Jewish community and their ability to join forces with and exert pressure on the American government on behalf of Palestinian Jewry; and third, most importandy, that this relief work set the stage, both in an organizational and ideological sense, for the implementation of the American Zionist Medical Unit, later known as Hadassah Medical Organization. The case of the mission, we argue, helps re-contextualize the historical emergence of the American Zionist Medical Unit. 8

General Background and Sterling Story The Sterling set sail due to letters from Jewish hospitals in Jerusalem and local Jewish leaders that requested food, medicine and general relief funds. As early as August 1914, Ambassador Morgenthau sent a letter to Jacob Schiff, a leader in the American Jewish community stating: "The Jews of Palestine confront a terrible crisis. Funds from Europe have ceased. Serious destruction threatens the setdements. 50,000 dollars is needed." 9 Indeed between the years 1915-1917, there was a desperate lack of doctors in Palestine, typhus and starvation were rife and a cholera epidemic had occurred. These conditions later led to extremely high mortality rates, resulting in the loss of about 25% of the entire Jewish population in Palestine. From 88,000 Jews in Palestine at the beginning of the war, only 55,000 remained in 1918 due to death and dislocation. With the eruption of war, the collapse of all the institutions in Palestine, and the subsequent discontinuation of foreign charity, the Yishuv (the Jewish com6

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See Letter f r o m Alvey Adee, Second Assistant Secretary to Lucas. April 8, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. During the negotiation process with the French and British governments, Schiff invoked the Geneva Convention in order to convince them of their obligation. T h e Vulcan (1915) and Tennessee (1915) both sailed before the Sterling but they delivered mainly foodstuffs and money. T h e Vulcan delivered a very small amount of medicine (1,500 dollars worth). This argument serves as an addendum, due to new information and research, to an article by Shvarts, S. and Brown, T. 1998. " K u p a t Holim, Dr. Isaac Max Rubinow and the American Zionist Medical Unit's Experiment to Establish Health Care Services in Palestine, 1918-1923." Bulletin of the Histoiy ofMedicine 72,1, 28-46. Letter f r o m Morgenthau to J a c o b Schiff. August 31, 1914. Schiff Archives AJA, File 438 in Efrati, N. 1991. The ]ewish community in Ere t^Israel during World War I (1914-1918). Jerusalem: Yad Ben Zvi Publications, 19.

munity in Palestine) had only one possible realistic source for outside assistance—the Jewish community in America. Turning to America was based on previous American involvement in the area.10 The Yishuv, for its part, knew that the Ottoman government would not allow relief monies to enter Palestine by private means but only through internationally recognized channels. It was therefore clear to both the American Jewish community and the Yishuv that the cooperation of the State Department was the key factor in the success of their endeavor. O n January 24, 1915, the first telegram arrived to the State department in Washington from the Alexandria Palestine Committee describing the difficult health situation in Palestine." This telegram provided a direct plea to the "American nation" from the Yishuv to use its‫ ׳‬influence to save Jewish setdements in Palestine. The telegram was immediately published and only four days later, American Jewish leaders arranged a private meeting with the Secretary of State to demand a promise from the State Department to take action. In order to confirm the claims set forth by the Yishuv, William Bryan, then Secretary of State, requested in a personal message to Henry Morgenthau and to Captain Decker of the U. S. Tennessee to report on the situation in Palestine, alerting them not to rely on Ottoman reports. Thus, Captain Decker visited Jewish leaders and the American consuls in Palestine and Alexandria in February 1915 to confirm the reports and to transport seven hundred Jews, (mosdy Russian), from Palestine to Alexandria. 12 F r o m that point on, a solid commitment was made by the United States to engage in a joint venture with the American Jewish community to aid Jews in Palestine. This is where the story of the Sterling comes in. The Sterling was one of several American ships that carried medical relief supplies, monies, and food to Palestine in order to help the sufferers in the war. By the time the Sterling arrived at Naples, some of its medicines were already lost due to rough seas. 13 At Naples, arrangement was made for the shipment of the medicine to Alexandria via merchant steamer. O n August 19, 1916, the French government finally consented to the free passage of medical supplies to Jaffa. 14 Landing of the medical supplies, however, did not immediately occur with this approval. The reason for the delay lay in an accompanying plan to transport 10

T h e American Jewish community could have turned to the Rockefeller Foundation to undertake this endeavor since that organization was involved in similar affairs all over the world. Doing so, however, meant funds could not be specifically designated to the Jewish community in Palestine. Thus they chose to turn direcdy to the American government in order have more direct control over the recipients of their monies and supplies and to p r o m o t e specific Jewish interests in Pales tine.

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Alexandria Palestine Committee to Secretary of State, Washington DC. January 24, 1915. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . Copy sent to Nathan Straus and Lewin-Epstein. Telegram from American Ambassador of Constantinople to Secretary of State. January 27, 1915. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . See also "Report on Conditions in Palestine with reference to Zionism." T o Secretary of Navy, Daniels f r o m Decker. February 10, 1915. Confidential. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . Letter f r o m Ellis, Lieutenant Commander USN of Sterling to Engelman. April 15, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. Letter f r o m Jusserand, Ambassador of French Republic to Straus. August 19, 1916. J D C AR1418. 1 2 0 - 1 5 5 / 4 / 1 2 3 .

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wives and children of US citizens (mainly Jewish) out of Palestine on the same ship that was to deliver the medical goods. This type of operation had been done before in 1915 on the US ships Tennessee, Chester and Des Moines. 15 Implementation of this plan required intense negotiations with the Turks—but as Albert Lucas, Secretary of the J D C , wrote: "Leave no stone unturned to accomplish both (taking the citizens out and delivering the medicine) of these acts of mercy. In accomplishing them the United States will have the right to feel that it has served humanity; for these are humanitarian interests in the highest sense." 16 So the US Des Moines was instructed to proceed to Alexandria to take the medicine and bring it to Jaffa. 17 O n November 14 th , 1916 it was ready to do so but it, along with the US Collier Caesar (also involved in relief delivery), was interned at Alexandria until official permission for the departure of US citizens could be secured. Once America entered the war in April 1917, the chance to transport the medicine became impossible. 18 By September, 1917 no transportation of medicine or people had occurred. Contrary to our initial understanding as well as the findings of several secondary sources about the arrival of these medicines, documentation from the US National Archives shows that it was only a few days afier Allenby's entrance into Jerusalem in mid-December 1 9 of 1917 that the Des Moines and Caesar actually landed the medical supplies at Jaffa. 20 The ships had come too late but the medicines were still desperately needed. 21 From the time the medical supplies were boarded on the Sterling until they actually arrived in Jaffa, almost two years had passed.

American Interests and Jewish influence As the Secretary for the Joint Distribution Committee, Albert Lucas, called the whole expedition, the relief effort of the J D C and the American State Department was first and foremost a "Mission of Mercy." 22 T h e American government used this incident as a way to promote its pursuit of "life , liberty and happiness" 23 abroad. It saw itself as the only country that could "render this great

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Transporting Jews out of Palestine was permitted due to the Capitulations. Letter to Brylawski f r o m Lucas. August 30, 1916. J D AR 1418.120-155/4/123. T h e Des Moines took over four hundred Jewish immigrants f r o m Jaffa to Crete and Alexandria in September 1915. See p. 3 Blakely of Des Moines to Secretary of the Navy. "Movements of the USS D e s Moines-Mediterranean." US National Archives. R G 4 5 / 1 0 8 6 / 1 . N o v e m b e r 2, 1915. Instead, efforts were made for a Spanish ship to take the medicine f r o m the D e s Moines for Jaffa but this too was n o t possible. Around December 17*, 1917. Telegram. State Department to Joint Distribution Committee December 17, 1917. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . Shiloni states that the period f r o m late 1917 until the end of the war posed an exceptionally difficult health situation for the Jews of Palestine. Shiloni, Z. 1991. "Health Services in Jerusalern." In Siege and Distress: Erct^ Israel during the First World War. Ed. M. Eliav. Jerusalem: Yad Ben Tzvi, 81-82. O c t o b e r 1918 the health situation of the entire area finally improved. Lucas, A. " T h e 'Des Moines' and the 'Caesar' are Impotent." Letter to the Editor, New York Tribune. March 7,1917, 5. J D C AR 1 4 1 8 . 5 3 - 1 2 0 / 3 / 8 2 - 2 . Ibid., 1.

humanitarian service." 24 Its humanitarian objectives, however, did not stop at the level of general sentiment but could be seen in the particular attention this issue was given by individual diplomats including Consul Glazebrook, Ambassador Elkus, and even President Wilson. Furthermore, both American Ambassadors Morgenthau and Elkus took a personal interest in trying to save the Jewish population in Palestine. They called private meetings with Ottoman govemmental and local leaders in January 1917 in order to persuade them to permit the landing of medical supplies at Jaffa. 25 Indeed, in June 1917, President Wilson called for Morgenthau to head a commission to go to Palestine in order to distribute relief and to assess what measures could be taken to ameliorate the situation. 26 The operation was eventually aborted but the plan illustrates the extent to which the American government was dedicated to the relief of the Jews. Although the United States government did extend its relief efforts to other sufferers abroad during this time, including the Armenian and Syrian populations, it seems that this particular mission was given special care. 27 The unique treatment of the Palestinian issue by American diplomats was further influenced by certain powerful figures within the American Jewish community w h o diligentiy negotiated with the State Department in order to achieve their goal. Jewish figures like Jacob Schiff, Felix Warburg, Jacob DeHaas, Henrietta Szold, Judah Magnes and Justices Mack, Marshall and Brandeis frequendy corresponded with State Department officials and the President himself in order to put pressure and secure assistance for the relief effort. In addition, it was fortunate that some of the American dignitaries in Palestine and Turkey, like Oscar Straus, Abraham Elkus, and Henry Morgenthau, were Jewish and so they consciously promoted relief efforts for the Yishuv. This correspondence, and the effects it had upon American policy, displays the extent of American Jewish political influence during this period. Protecting economic investments was another reason for the American backing of this venture. The case of Nathan Straus provides an interesting look into the intersection of Jewish social aid and American economic interests in the Holy Land—a convergence which added to the possibility and practical fulfillment of these relief efforts. Nathan Straus was the brother of former Congressman Isador Straus and former Ambassador to Constantinople, Oscar

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Letter f r o m Bryan, Secretary of State, to the Secretary of the Treasury. March 5, 1915. US National Archives M353/867.48/51. Letter f r o m Elkus to Schiff. Personal and Private. January 18, 1917. J D C AR 1 4 1 8 . 5 3 - 1 2 0 / 3 / 8 2 - 2 and Press Release of House of Representatives. December 18, 1916. J D C AR 1418.531 2 0 / 3 / 8 2 - 1 for information about his additional work regarding the Caesar. Felix Frankfurter was supposed to accompany Morgenthau on this mission. The J D C promised unlimited funds to Morgenthau for distribution during the visit. See New York Times J u n e 20 and 21, 1917. Public Records Office. F O 371/3055/40642. T h e British, for their part, commented that Wilson was really calling the commission for political reasons—in order to "gratify Morgenthau's ambitions and to give his energies convenient vent." Colville Barclay to Balfour. J u n e 26,1917. P R O . F O 371/3055/40642. See Letter f r o m Elkus to Schiff. Personal and Private. January 18, 1917. J D C AR 1418.53120/3/82-2.

Straus. 28 Active in health issues both in N e w York City and Palestine and coowner with his brothers of Macy's and A & S department stores, he frequendy requested that reports be made about the status of his Health Bureau and soup kitchens in Jerusalem. 29 These reports were encouraged by the State Department since they were viewed as important for learning about American social and financial activities in Palestine. It should be noted too, that Nathan Straus was one of the first major financial contributors to the American Jewish relief effort in Palestine, due in part, to maintaining his already-established ventures there. 30 Worries were also expressed regarding the Agricultural Experiment Station at Adit, which was registered as an American institution and owned by several N e w York citizens, including Nathan Straus. The Station did cooperative research with the United States Ministry of Agriculture and was therefore perceived as an important American agricultural and economic investment. 31 The Anglo-Palestine Bank was yet another institution that received particular American attention. Closed by the Turks in January 1915 as a distinct measure against the Zionists, the Bank contained about one million francs deposited by various American individuals and organizations, including Hadassah money designated for nursing work in Jerusalem. 32 Zionist and American interests converged on the issue of the Bank. Captain Decker in his original report to Wilson recognized that "where American interests are mixed with Zionist affairs, those interests are jeopardized..." 33 Indeed it is not by chance that during his visit to Palestine in 1915, Decker was instructed to focus on American interests and there-

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Isador Straus was the oldest of the three Straus boys. H e owned Macy's and A &S department stores with his brothers, served in Congress from 1893-1895 and died with his wife o n the Titanic in 1912. Oscar Straus, the youngest, was appointed minister to Turkey in 1887-1889 and then f r o m 1897-1899 when he succeeded in restoring American interests there and secured the rights of American missionaries in the O t t o m a n Empire. In 1902, President Roosevelt appointed him to the Permanent Court of Arbitration at T h e Hague and in 1906, Secretary of Commerce and Labor. Oscar was the first Jew to enter the American cabinet. F r o m 1909-1910 he served as Ambassador to Constantinople.. "Straus Family" in Dictionary ofJewish Biography. Ed. Wigoder, G . Simon and Schuster. N e w York, 1991, 502-504. Nathan Straus was the middle of the three sons. H e was educated in business and joined his older brother in the Macy's and A & S endeavor. In 1898, he served as president of the N e w York Board of Health. Nathan was devoted to pasteurization of milk and built milk stations for p o o r children throughout the US, Germany, Palestine, Cuba and the Philippines. During WW1, he distributed milk to the US Forces. As a strong supporter of Zionism, Straus established a Health Bureau in 1912 as well as the Pasteur Institute. In 1920, he endowed health centers in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. See "Straus Family." In Wigoder, 1991. G. Dictionary of Jewish Biography. N e w York: Simon and Schuster, 502. Morgenthau's speech at Glazebrook reception sponsored by J D C for his cooperation in Jewish relief efforts in Palestine as American consul. December 23, 1917. J D C AR1418/ 2 / 2 4 . Telegram by Bryan, Secretary of State to Embassy at Constantinople. February 1, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . T h e American Ambassador tried to get the Turks to reopen the Bank but I am not sure of the results. American Ambassador to Secretary of State. January 29, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . T h e US N o r t h Carolina delivered Hadassah money that was deposited in the Anglo-Palestine Bank and then confiscated it on N o v e m b e r 2, 1914. Letter f r o m Szold to Wise. January 15, 1915. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . See also Wise to Secretary of State. January 15, 1915 of same file. Decker to Wilson. February 9, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 .

fore requested to meet speafically with leaders involved with the Zionist movement, the Agricultural Station and the Anglo-Palestine Bank. 34 During their meeting, the Zionists requested that Decker transmit to President Wilson an appeal to save Zionism. Decker complied and noted his admiration for the movement. Thus, indirect, unofficial support for the Zionist endeavor, mosdy due to shared economic interests, proved to be an additional motivation for American help." The American Jewish community, for their part, showed exceptional unity and command in their relief efforts in Palestine and around the world. The main organ for Jewish relief during World War One, the Joint Distribution Committee, served as the umbrella organization for three constituent committees: the American Jewish Relief Committee, the Central Committee for the Relief of Jews and the Jewish People's Relief of America. 36 T h e Joint provided food and money to those Jewish victims in war zones and Palestine was one of their main target communities. A m o n g other Jewish leaders that were already mentioned, the Joint's Secretary, Albert Lucas and lawyer, Fulton Brylawski wielded important influence with the State Department and negotiated constandy with them in order to secure the transport of relief supplies for Palestine. The extreme tenacity and drive of American Jewish leaders as well as their success in raising sufficient funds for their brethren, led the Director General of the American Red Cross to note: "The liberality with which the Jewish people of the United States have contributed for the relief of their people ... has been such as to make all the rest of us blush with shame." 37 President Wilson recognized the Jewish victims of the war and gave his support for American Jewish relief efforts when he declared January 27—February 4, 1917 the Week of Mercy, a week during which American citizens were called upon to contribute to that particular purpose. 38

Foundation for the American Zionist Medical Unit Finally, and most importandy, Jewish medical and general relief efforts during the War set the stage for the eventual arrival of the American Zionist Medical Unit (AZMU) to Palestine in August 1918.39 The Unit was conceived of in July

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Decker to Secretary of the Navy. February 7, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . "Report on Conditions in Palestine with reference to Zionism." Confidential. T o Daniels from Decker,. 20. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . By September 1915, American institutions had invested forty million dollars in Turkey and real estate and equipment valued at eight million dollars. Letter from Foreign Secretary, James Barton, to Secretary of State Lansing. September 18, 1915. US National Archives. M353/867.48/51. J D C to New York County Chapter, American Red Cross. July 10, 1917. J D C AR 1418/ 2/48. Letter f r o m Ernest Bicknell, Director General of Civilian Relief of the American Red Cross to Albert Lucas. N o v e m b e r 29, 1916. J D C AR 1418/2/47. "Week of Mercy." J D C AR 1418/2/50. T h e Unit left N Y on J u n e 11,1918 and landed in Jaffa on August 17, 1918. See p. 3 of American Zionist Medical Unit for Palestine Report. February 13, 1919. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/124. T h e Unit was one of four medical units to be sent through the American Red Cross. There were some hesitation amongst the British to send the Red Cross Units due to possible Arab response but the Zionist Unit was considered welcomed. President Wilson, however, was against the sail-

1916 as a response to the typhus epidemic and lack of doctors in Palestine. 40 In January 1913, Hadassah sent two nurses in Palestine to perform sanitary and clinical work. In February 1915 (same time as Sterling), both Hadassah nurses returned to the US for personal reasons, leaving Bertha Kagan and Albert Ticho of the LeMaan Eye Clinic as the main Hadassah doctors in the country at the time. Hadassah also supplied a nurse for Palestinian Jewish refugees in Alexandria. See "Hadassah" press release. July 20, 1916. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 / 5 2 . It was originally supposed to set sail on the US Des Moines with additional medicines on the US Caesar—but the mission was suspended because of American's breaking off of relations with Turkey and its entrance into the War. 41 See Letter from Szold to Louis Marshall. September 13, 1917. J D C AR 1418.53-120/3/58. Waiting in Palestine for both the Sterling's medical supplies and the Medical Unit, were several local, Jewish committees established in October 1914 to distribute general supplies to the Yishuv. Local Palestinian political leaders, rabbis and doctors in the Yishuv, including those in the Old Yishuv and Zionist communities, commonly participated. American consuls in Palestine were supposed to oversee these committees and receive periodic reports of their activities. 42

ing of the Zionist Unit because he claimed the US was not yet at war with Turkey. P R O February 6, 1918. F O 371/3392/40642. O n May 15, 1918, however, he officially recognized and granted permission for the A Z M U to sail. Memo by Sokolow to DeHaas. May 22, 1918. P R O F O 371/3392/40642. T h e Unit may have been conceived of as an alternative to the Sterling's delivery of medicine because it was at this d m e at the Sterling was unable to pass the French blockade. Indeed, a letter f r o m Alvey Adee, Second Assistant Secretary of State gives deHaas approval to talk to the French Ambassador about the sending of the Unit and additional medicines. This discussion could well have been in conjunction with negotiations to open the blockade for the Sterling's medicines. Letter f r o m Adee to deHaas. August 4, 116. US National Archives M 3 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . If it was not an alternative, it was definitely conceived of as a needed addition.

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T h e Unit, proposed by the Zionist Provisional Committee but later financially administered by the Joint, was to consist of ten doctors and four nurses. Letter from Jacob deHaas to Frank Polk, Acting Secretary of State. July 20, 1916. US National Archives M353/867.48/51. See also Extract of minutes of meeting of J D C J u n e 18, 1917. J D C AR 1418.53-120/3/120(2). In another letter f r o m deHaas to Polk, he notes that Hadassah, "the subordinate organization," was charged with organizing the unit. Letter f r o m DeHaas to Polk. July 24, 1916. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . Palestine was the first country into which it was possible for the Joint to send this kind of war relief. Press Notice of Felix. Warburg. August 1918. J D C AR 1418.120155/4/124. Reports at the time f r o m Palestine stated that there were only four doctors in Jaffa, four in Jerusalem and none in the colonies, including doctors of all races. Letter to Lucas f r o m Magnes. February 20, 1917, 2. By the time the A Z M U sailed, fourteen physicians in departments of medicine, surgery, pathology, pediatrics, skin, obstetrics, gynecology, eye, ear, nose and throat and orthopedics plus a sanitarian and sanitary engineer, bacteriologist, three dentists, a pharmacist and twenty trained nurses were included in the Unit. Letter to Lucas from Szold. May 28, 1918. J D C AR1418.120-155/4/124. Djemal Pasha, in December 1916, refused to grant permission for the Unit to land in Palestine because he claimed there were n o epidemics and unusual illnesses. He claimed that Ruppin conferred but Ruppin (expelled to Constantinople at the time) wrote saying that he this was not true. Letter f r o m Phillips, Third Assistant Secretary to DeHaas. December 19, 1916. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . See also Letter f r o m DeHaas to Phillips. February 31, 1917. Ibid See Ruppin's suggestions for reorganization of committee protocol. P. 3 Palestine-Relief. J D C .

3 / 1 2 0 - 2 . Problems with enforcement of guidelines, however, often occurred. The nature of the distribution system reflected the contours of Jewish social divisions in Palestine. At the beginning stages of distribution, religious and non religious elements of the committees, especially in Jerusalem, were at extreme odds with each other. Distrust and suspicion between what Ruppin, w h o later head of the Land Setdement department of the Palestine Zionist Executive, termed the "Orthodox and Modernist" contingents continued until the end of the war. 43 Yet as the situation in Palestine worsened, there were instances where the committees turned out to be an arena for inter-Jewish cooperation. Guidelines for distribution paid particular attention not to discriminate between observant Jews and non-observant ones as well as between communities coming from different countries of origin or ethnicity. Complaints regarding corruption and the non compliance of these provisions, however, were frequendy made. It should be noted that although the Joint's distribution motto was "irrespective of race and creed," the large majority of relief supplies were designated to the Jewish community with a smaller portion being distributed to the Palestinian Muslim and Christian populations. 44 In general, little reference is made to the economic and health status of the Palestinian Arab community in the documents relating to relief work. Even though the war primarily hurt the Jewish setdement, thousands of Arabs died from epidemics and starvation as well.45 Towards the end of the war, a new system of distributing general relief was established that was more sensitive to people's worsened economic position and ideology. Towards the end at the war, the Zionists gained control of relief distribution and at the very end of the war, they were officially recognized by the British to fulfill such a task.46 Recipients of relief supplies and monies included soup kitchens, hospitals, orphanages, insane asylums, schools, andyeshivot. The existence of a distribution system and of a group of people in Palestine already experienced in such work, made the final arrival of the Unit easier and the work more efficient. Indeed the A Z M U was organized during the war and under war conditions and was therefore originally intended to perform medical relief work. Shordy before its arrival, plans for the Unit expanded in scope and size, adding to its staff and equipment and—as Henrietta Szold remarked— with the intention of making itself a more permanent presence in Palestine's AR1418.53-120/

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Palestine-Relief. A. Ruppin. P. 2. Extract from letter received through Ambassador Elkus. January 6, 1917. J D C . AR 1 4 1 8 . 5 3 - 1 2 0 / 3 / 1 2 0 - 2 . Nathan Straus' individual efforts are an exception. Kimmerling and Migdal. 1993. Palestinians: The Making of a People. New York: Free Press, 328 no.58. Comparatively, given the case of Jerusalem, the Jewish mortality rate was almost seven times that of the Muslim and Christian communities and so greater quantities of relief were in fact required by the Jewish community. Letter to Ruppin from Ticho and Kagan. December 26, 1916. J D C AR 1418.53-120/3/58. The relief effort most likely boosted Zionist political clout in Palestine after the war since they were responsible for distributing medicines/food and other supplies. The relief mission also allowed committee leaders during the war to gain more prestigious political and bureaucratic positions after the war and during the Mandate. It gave these actors, mostly Zionists again, more legitimacy in future work.

medical activities. 47 During its first months in Palestine, the Unit did in fact mainly render emergency medical aid for all of Palestine. 48 Once the British Mandate took effect, however, the A Z M U changed its function to one of reconstruction. As Rubinow, the Director of the A Z M U stated in 1922: "May I say without undue boasting that the growth of the A Z M U during the last three years from a temporary war relief organization to its present dimensions is almost unprecedented in the history of colonial work, [and] surely unprecedented in the history of the Zionist effort." 4 9

Conclusion. In conclusion, it is important to reiterate that the mission of the Sterling is not only one about relief efforts to Palestine during World War O n e but that it provides the initial basis for American Jewish medical activity in Palestine. Distribution of medical supplies, food and money as relief during the war shifted to the provision of health services after the war. In addition, the Zionists gradually gained control of relief distribution at the end of the war and were officially recognized by the British to fulfill such a task. Thus the story of the Sterling not only tells us about the extent of dedication to saving the Yishuv by both the American Government and Jewish American community, but also has significant ramifications upon the nature and future development of health services in Palestine, well-known to us today as Hadassah Medical Organization.

47

48

49

Letter f r o m Szold to Lucas. May 28, 1918, 2. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4124. U p o n its arrival, the Unit was to follow up the army and administer medical aid to the civil population. M e m o r a n d u m on Activities of A Z M U . Drs. Rosen and Kibyovich. J D C File 276. Hadassah Medical Organization Third Report. September 1920-December 1921. Jerusalem, 1922, 6. J D C File 276. See also N o t e s on meeting of Committee on Medical Affairs. January 16, 1922, 1. C o m m e n t by Heiser of IHB. J D C File 275. Letter to Flexner f r o m Rubinow. February 7, 1922, 9. J D C File 276.

SEPHARDI AMSTERDAM AND T H E EUROPEAN RADICAL E N L I G H T E N M E N T ADAM SUTCLIFFE University College London, UK T h e history of unbelief in the early m o d e r n period is a controversial and contested subject. 1 Lucien Febvre's influential argument that atheism was effectively "unthinkable" in the sixteenth century has been challenged by several historians, according to w h o m distinctively atheistic ideas did circulate amongst late Renaissance radicals, at least in France and Italy. 2 However, the speculative expression of subversively heretical ideas within Renaissance élites must be distinguished f r o m the sustained critique of religious authority which characterises the Radical Enlightenment. It has been widely noted that the collapse of religious hegemony in the eighteenth century was largely the consequence of sustained attrition f r o m the intense polemical combat between competing theological camps since the Reformation. Dispute between Protestants and Catholics, and between rival groups within these two traditions, was ultimately deeply corrosive of Christian authority in general. 3 If the confrontation of opposing systems of religious belief is acknowledged as an important causal factor in the emergence of secularism, then the experience of the seventeenth-century northern E u r o p e a n Sephardi diaspora is in this context particularly interesting. After several generations of at least outward observance of Catholicism, those Marranos w h o setded in Hamburg, Amsterdam and a few other N o r t h Sea setdements f r o m the 1590s onwards were able for the first time to live openly as Jews. Most of these migrants quickly conformed, at least nominally, to orthodox Judaism, and accepted the authority of the newly-formed Jewish communal structures. However, not all arrivals immediately accepted the differences between the rabbinically enforced Judaism they discovered in northern E u r o p e and the Judaeo-Catholicism with which they were familiar. Internal dissent was to some extent c o m p o u n d e d by external influences: D u t c h and G e r m a n Protestants responded to the Sephardim in a very different way f r o m the inquisitorial Catholics of the Iberian peninsula. In Amsterdam in particular, the high degree of interest in Judaism in some Protestant circles led in some cases to a relatively high level of intellectual contact between

1

2

3

See Wootton, D. 1992. " N e w Histories of Atheism." In Atheism from the Reformation to the Enlightenment. Ed. M. Hunter and D. Wootton. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 13-53. See Febvre, L. 1982 [1942]. The Problem of Unbelief in the Sixteenth Century. Trans. Beatrice Gottlieb. Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press; Davidson, N. 1992. "Unbelief and Atheism in Italy, 1500-1700." In Hunter and Wootton, Atheism. 56-75; Berriot, F. 1976. Atheismes et Athéistes au XVI Siècle en France. Lille: Cerf. See, e.g., Kors, A. 1990. Atheism in France, 1650-1729. Princeton: Princeton University Press, I, 265-379.

Jews and Protestants. In the middle third of the century both communities experienced a parallel phenomenon of heightened religious instability and millenarian excitement, culminating amongst the Jews with the Shabbatai Zevi affair of 1665-6. Dutch Sephardi Jewry in the mid seventeenth century was a theologically and economically unstable community, 4 within which there was an unprecedentedly high degree of awareness of the differences and tensions between Jewish, Catholic and Protestant beliefs. It is not surprising that the key thinker of the Early Enlightenment, Baruch Spinoza, should emerge from this particularly disputatious, intense and intellectually multi-faceted communal background. Spinoza's early non-Jewish admirers portrayed his expulsion from the Amsterdam Sephardi community as a confirmation of the contrast between his isolated genius and the petty-minded dogmatism of the Jewish world into which he had had the misfortune to be born. As Richard Popkin has pointed out, a similar attitude survives in much twentieth-century historiography, in which the Amsterdam community is inaccurately characterised as dominated by a "ghetto mentality." 5 More generally, it is widely assumed that until the beginnings of the Haskalah in the late eighteenth century—a belated "Jewish Enlightenment"— European Jewry was largely oblivious to the wider intellectual climate that surrounded it. However, the Sephardim of western Europe were far from isolated from the impact of the Enlightenment, and in the early eighteenth century increasingly absorbed the fashions and values of the prevailing secular culture. 6 As Jonathan Israel has argued, the declining respect for rabbinic authority and traditional scholarship in this period was symptomatic of a more general communal crisis in the face of the Enlightenment. 7 However, Sephardi intellectual life in the immediate pre-Enlightenment period, especially in Amsterdam, was characterised by a vibrancy and dynamism strikingly in contrast with this later crisis. Theologico-political dissent within the community, and lively cross-fertilisation with ideas f r o m outside, produced a rich literature of theological argument, which both prefigured and direcdy influenced later non-Jewish Early Enlightenment debate. The mentality of the Sephardim of seventeenth-century northern Europe was highly intricate and distinctive. The collective psychology of the community was influenced by the complex interpénétration of Jewish and Iberian patterns of thought. 8 The members of the "Portuguese nation," as the Amsterdam community at first described itself, possessed a powerfiil sense of communal loyalty and pride, based at least as much on traditional Iberian notions of purity of blood

4

5 6

7 8

See Israel, J. 1990. "Dutch Sephardi Jewry, Millenarian Politics and the Struggle for Brazil (16401654)." In Sceptics, Millenarians and Jem. Ed. D. S. Katz and J. Israel. Leiden: Brill, 76-97. Popkin, R. H. 1977. "Spinoza and La Peyrère." The Southwestern Journal of Philosophy 8, 179-80. Israel, J. 1989. European Jewry in the Age of Mercantilism 1550-1750, 2nd edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 252-8. I hid, 237-62. See Popkin, R. H. 1995. "The Jews of the Netherlands in the Early Modern Period." In In and Out of the Ghetto. Ed. R. Po-Chia Hsia and H. Lehmann. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 311-6; Nahon, G. 1980. "Amsterdam, Métropole Occidentale des Sépharades au XVII s siècle." Cahiers Spinoza 3, 15—50.

and ethnic exclusivity as on a specifically religious sense of affiliation. 9 The relationship of Jewish religious practice to Jewish identity was an issue that caused some conflict in Amsterdam. O n arrival in the city, many Marranos possessed only a limited knowledge of Judaism, and religious education was therefore a major communal concern. Even amongst those who were unequivocally eager to adopt normative Judaism, dissonant concepts derived from long-standing Catholic observance often remained deeply rooted within personal systems of belief. Several migrants, however, were resistant to the imposition of an orthodox conformity on them by the Amsterdam community establishment. 10 The degree of religious heterodoxy and debate within the community is difficult to gauge, but the survival in large numbers of controversialist anti-Christian manuscripts, often written in response to the questions of doubting Marranos, suggests that theological disagreement and uncertainty was widespread. The catalogue of the Amsterdam seminary, Ets Haim, lists more than thirty manuscript copies of these texts." The composition, translation and copying of these manuscripts continued into the early eighteenth century, suggesting that theological doubt and dispute was a sustained phenomenon. Despite the vigorous efforts of community leaders to impose theological conformity through both persuasive and coercive methods, including frequent recourse to the herem (community ban), 12 a significant current of dissent survived in Sephardi Amsterdam. A sequence of bold individuals, stimulated by the range of theological and philosophical ideas accessible to them in this city, challenged the communal orthodoxy. The earliest heretic was Uriel da Costa, born in O p o r t o in about 1584, and in his youth a devout Catholic. Through private study Da Costa had developed an interest in Judaism, and emigrated to Amsterdam in order to escape the attentions of the Inquisition. However, his personal understanding of Judaism as developed in Portugal did not conform with the rabbinically disciplined Jewish life he discovered there. The publication of his Exame das Tradifoes Phariseas (1623), a trenchant attack on rabbinical authority, led to his expulsion from the synagogue under a herem. Da Costa took temporary refuge in Hamburg, and his text was burned, and was believed to be lost until in 1990 a single surviving copy was located in the Royal Library in Copenhagen. 13

9

10

" 12

13

See Bodian, M. 1994. '"Men of the Nation': T h e Shaping of Comtrso Identity in Early Modern Europe." Past and Present 143, 48-76; Weiner, G. M. 1994. "Sephardic Philo—and Anti-Semitism in the Early Modern Era." In Jewish Christians and Christian Jews. Ed. G. M. Weiner and R. H. Popkin. Dordrecht: Kluwer, 189-209. See Kaplan, Y. 1995. " D e joden in de Republiek tot omstreeks 1750." In Geschiedenis tan de Joàn in Nederland Ed. J. C. H. Blom el aL Amsterdam: Balans, 164-6. Méchoulan, H. 1991. Etre Juif à Amsterdam au temps de Spinoza. Paris: Albin Michel, 101. Kaplan, Y. 1996. Judios nuews en Amsterdam: Estudio sohre ta historia social e intelectual del judaismo sefardi en el siglo XVII. Barcelona: Gedisa, 39—42; idem, 1993. "Deviance and Community in the Eighteenth Century." In Dutch Jewish History. Vol I. Ed. J. Michman. Tel Aviv University / Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 103-5. See Salomon, H. P. 1990. "A Copy of Uriel da Costa's Exame das Tradifoes Phariseas Located in the Royal Library of Copenhagen." Studia Rasenthatiana 24, 153-68.

Da Costa's attack in his Exame is closely aimed at rabbinic authority. He repudiates the rabbinically mediated oral law, asserting that the written law alone must be paramount, and that the notion that it needs to be supplemented by an oral tradition scandalously implies that the written law alone is imperfect. 14 He attacks at length the practice of the wearing of tefillin (phylacteries) while praying, on the grounds that they are not mentioned in Scripture. The biblical verses traditionally given as the basis for this law should, he argues, be interpreted tiguratively rather than literally. " T o be in harmony with the spirit of the lawgiver," he writes, "it is necessary to understand allegorically." 15 He goes on to attack other shibboleths of the oral law, such as the dietary separation of meat and milk.16 Throughout the text, he characterises the rabbis as legalistic, unspiritual Pharisees—a stock image of Christian anti-Jewish rhetoric, undoubtedly absorbed by Da Costa during his earlier life as a practising Catholic. However, his stress on the self-sufficient perfection of the biblical text suggests the influence of Protestantism. Although there is no direct evidence of Da Costa's contacts with Protestants, it seems unlikely that a man of his religious inquisitiveness would not rapidly and easily have informed himself about Protestant theology. Already at this early stage in the history of Sephardi radicalism, the interpénétration of Jewish, Catholic and Protestant modes of thought was of crucial importance. Da Costa was most vociferously condemned not for his attack on rabbinic and Talmudic authority, but for his denial of the immortality of the soul. This doctrine, he argued, implied divine cruelty in inflicting the souls of sinners to torment in purgatory. It was also manipulated by rabbis as a metaphysical disciplining device, by deflecting attention from this world to the world to come. The soul was in truth physically present in the blood, and died together with the body. 17 This theory was immediately and vehemendy rebutted by Samuel da Silva, a doctor and member of the Hamburg community. In his Tratado da Immortalidade da Alma (1623), Da Silva throughout refers to Da Costa indirecdy as "our ignorant adversary," and argues sustainedly against his "mad opinion that the human soul dies together with the body." 18 Da Silva engages in detail with Da Costa's arguments, arguing that hope in an afterlife is not a mere distraction, but brings with it positive benefits in this life.19 At various points, D a Silva quotes Da Costa extensively, thus unintentionally ensuring that even after the mass destruction of Da Costa's own text knowledge of his ideas and arguments survived in some detail.

14

15 16 17 18 19

Uriel da Costa, 1993 [1623], Examination of Pharisaic Traditions. Trans, and ed. H. P. Salomon and I. S. D. Sassoon. Leiden: Brill, 271-2. Ibid, 290-3. Ibid, 298-9. Ibid, 416-9. Samuel da Silva, 1993 [1623], "Treatise on the Immortality of the Soul." Ibid, 427-551. Ibid, §27.

The sources for Da Costa's theory of the soul are uncertain: Servetus, Averroës and Pomponazzi have all been put forward as possible influences. 20 Da Costa's knowledge of Judaism was somewhat confused, and his use of notions such as purgatory reveal an idiosyncratic fusion of Jewish and Catholic theology. 21 Although it is impossible to identify with any confidence his formative influences, it is clear that Da Costa's heresy was a product of the clashing and mixing of the wide range of ideas to which interested ex-Marranos in Amsterdam were newly able to gain access. Alongside anxieties concerning the nature of religious authority, salvation and textual interpretation, the question of the nature of the soul became a recurrent and troublesome focus of debate within the Amsterdam community. N o fewer than five treatises asserting the immortality of the soul were written by members of the Amsterdam rabbinate between 1624 and 1640,22 as well as important later texts dealing with the theme, such as Menasseh ben Israel's Nishmat Hayyim (1652) and Raphael Moses Aguilar's brief Tratado da Immortalidade da Alma.73 The numerousness of these polemics suggest that rabbis believed that this heresy continued to circulate within the community, and required sustained refutation. Despite the suppression of his text, there was a significant level of awareness of Uriel da Costa's ideas in mid seventeenth-century Amsterdam. It can safely be assumed that the young Spinoza, who was eight years old at the time of Da Costa's suicide in 1640, would have acquired detailed knowledge of his opinions. However, Spinoza was not the only dissident in Sephardi Amsterdam in the mid 1650s. His older associate, Juan de Prado, who arrived in Amsterdam from Spain (after a brief sojourn in Hamburg) in 1655, had a communal herem pronounced upon him in February 1657, seven months after Spinoza had been similarly punished. 24 None of Prado's own writings remain extant, but it is possible to reconstruct his arguments from the three counterblasts written against them by the prominent community member Isaac Orobio de Castro (c. 1617— 1687). The first and most extensive of Orobio's tracts, of which many copies survive in manuscript, 25 reveals in its tide the essence of Prado's natural law theology: Epistola Invectiva contra Prado un Philosopho Médico que dudava 0 no creia la verdad de la divina Escntura, y pretendiô encubrir su malicia con la afectada confession de Diosj la Ley de Naturale^.26 This text was written in 1663, when rumours reached Am-

20

21

22 23

24

25 26

See Strauss, L. 1965 [1930], Spinoza's Critique of Religion. New York: Schocken, 57-58; Salomon, H. P. and Sassoon, I. S. D. 1993. "Introduction" to D a Costa Examination, 38 ff. Faur, J. 1992. In the Shadow of History: Jews and Comersos at the Dawn of Modernity. Albany: State University of New York Press, 110—41. Salomon and Sassoon 1993: 48-50. Faur 1992: 35; Dan, J. 1979. "Menasseh ben Israel's Nishmat Hayyim and the concept of Evil in seventeenth-century Jewish Thought." In Twersky, I. and Septimus, B. Jewish Thought in the Sei‫׳‬enteenth Century. Cambridge Mass. and London: Harvard University Press, 63—75. See Kaplan, Y. 1989. From Christianity to Judaism: The Story of Isaac Orobio de Castro. Oxford: O x f o r d University Press, 122-178; Révah, I. S. 1959. Spinoza et le Dr. Juan de Prado. Paris and T h e Hague: Mouton, 13-20. See Kaplan 1989: 147, 431-3. BL MS Harley 3430, 165 ff. See also a printed version in Révah 1959: 86-129.

sterdam from the Antwerp crypto-Jewish community, where Prado was then living in exile, that the heretic was prepared to recant his views. Orobio presents a detailed defence of rabbinic and Talmudic authority and of the validity of the Halakah, which we can therefore presume were for Prado central issues of contention. Most interestingly, though, Orobio also discusses abstract philosophical issues. The third chapter of his text makes the titular claim to "pruevase que la Ley de Moseh y sagrada Escritura son conforme a razon natural, y, consiguientemente, dignas de todo credito." 27 By explicidy basing his argument at this point on philosophical reason, rather than on scriptural authority, Orobio is presumably seeking to rebut an attempt by Prado to differentiate between reason and religion—which was precisely the claim made by Spinoza in the preface to his Tractatus Theologico-Poiiticus.28 It seems likely that Spinoza and Prado were in close contact between 1655 and 1659, when it seems that Prado finally left Amsterdam. 29 From the fact that regular donations from Spinoza appear in the community records up to December 1655, we can surmise that Spinoza was an unalienated participant in community life up to this date, which closely coincides with the arrival of Prado in Amsterdam. 30 Evidence of their association appears in a 1659 deposition to the Spanish Inquisition in Madrid by an Augustinian friar, Fray Tomas Solano y Robles, who mentions that he encountered them both while recendy in Amsterdam, and describes them as close associates. 31 Spinoza's ideas can therefore be seen as the culmination of a long-standing tradition of radical thought within the Amsterdam Sephardi community. The cultural specificity of Spinoza's thought does not lie only in the enduring traces of his allegiance to Marrano notions of Jewish communal identity and survival,32 but also in his indebtedness to this tradition of Sephardi radicalism. With the almost immediate notoriety gained by Spinoza after the publication of the Tractatus Theologico-Poiiticus m 1670, the distinctively Jewish dimension to his thought was studiedly neglected by most parties. Spinoza himself, of course, had no wish to emphasise his intellectual debt to the world from which he had been expelled; while within the Jewish community, within which even any mention of Spinoza was technically banned, there was undoubtedly an even stronger desire to distance Spinozism from Judaism. Amongst non-Jews, responses to Spinoza's Jewishness were intricate and highly significant. However, Spinoza was universally regarded as a very special case. Jewish intellectual culture in general was over the course of the late seventeenth century increasingly seen as intrinsically inimical to philosophical thinking. Texts by seventeenth-century rabbis and community leaders such as Eliahu Montalto, Saul Levi Morteira, and Orobio de

27 28

29 30 31 32

Orobio, Epistola, in Révah 1959: 95-8. Benedict de Spinoza, 1951 [1670]. Tractatus Theologico-Poiiticus, trans. R. H. M. Elwes. N e w York: Dover, 9. Kaplan 1989: 146. Ibid, 131-5; Révah 1959: 27. Kaplan 1989: 133-4; Révah 1959: 31-3, 61-5. See Yovel, Y. 1989. Spin0?a and Other Heretics: The Marrano of Reason. Princeton: Princeton University Press, esp. 177-97.

Castro were read with great interest by early eighteenth century radicals, and Jewish themes continued to be intensively debated, but after the debate between Philip van Limborch and Orobio in 1684 respectful, serious theological discussion between living Jews and Chrisdans effectively ceased. While remaining fascinated by Judaism, the Early Enlightenment for the most part erased any suggestion of its possible indebtedness to currents of thought from within the Jewish world: an erasure that has been very little challenged even in the twentieth century. However, primarily but not solely via Spinoza, the early crucible of theological dissent of Sephardi Amsterdam was an important contributory source of the ideas and arguments of the wider European Radical Enlightenment, as it gathered force in the closing decades of the seventeenth century.

TKHINES

FOR T H E SABBATH BEFORE THE N E W M O O N CHAVA WEISSLER Lehigh University, USA

Let me begin with a passage f r o m My Mother's Sabbath Days (Di mames shabosim), the memoir by Chaim Grade. Wandering in exile in the Soviet Union during the Second World War, Grade is overcome by a memory: Quiet and radiant, with no beginning, no end, the melody stretches through my memory like a ray of sunlight, and I follow the unending, luminous strand back to Vilna, back to my mother's house. From my earliest childhood I remember how, on the Sabbath preceding the New Moon, my mother, before she left for the synagogue, would chant a Yiddish prayer in the front room of the smithy near the workbench, and I, still sunk in sleep in the back, would hear it: "I beseech Thee, Ο God most praised, that Thou shalt send me my sustenance, and shalt feed me and my household and all Israel, in joy of spirit and not in sorrow, in dignity and not in shame. Deliver me from all terrors, and misfortunes, and save me from slanders and all evil encounters. For this I do beseech Thee..."1 Let us, too, follow this luminous strand of memory into the past, and illuminate one of the pious practices of Polish Jewish w o m e n . What was the tkhine,2 the Yiddish supplication, that Chaim Grade's mother Vella recited? What were its origins? Why did she recite it so faithfully on the Sabbath before the N e w Moon? What other tkhines were composed for this event, and by w h o m ? H o w can the range of tkhines for shabbes mevorkhim help us understand the meaning of this day for Polish Jewish women? As we shall see, in different texts f r o m difGrade, Ch. 1986. My Mother's Sabbath Days. New York: K n o p f , 307-8. Earlier in the memoir, Grade quotes a longer version of the same tkhine‫׳‬. I beseech Thee, Ο G o d , that thou send me my sustenance, and T h o u feed me and my household and all Israel, in h o n o r and tranquility and not in sorrow, in dignity and not in shame. Deliver m e f r o m all terrors and disturbances, and save me f r o m slanders and all afflictions. I beseech Thee, grant me good fortune this year, and every new month, and every week, well-being and blessing and success, and grant me grace and favor in Thine eyes and in the eyes of others, so that none may have cause to speak evil of me. N o w I raise up my eyes to Heaven, and my broken heart I reveal u n t o thee. In the words of King David, peace be u p o n him: "A broken and a contrite heart, Ο G o d , T h o u wilt not despite." A m e n and may this be Thy will (48-49). Grade notes in this passage as well that his mother recited this prayer on every Sabbath preceding a N e w Moon, early in the morning at home. It is not clear to m e whether the differences in the two quoted versions are the result of poetic license, of Grade's faulty memory, or if Grade's m o t h e r improvised and altered her prayers according to her own desires, instead of "sticking to the b o o k . " For a complete study of the tkhines, see Weissler, Ch. 1998. Voices of the Matriarchs. Boston: Beacon Press.

ferent periods, the moment of blessing the new moon took on meanings that ranged from penitential prayers for forgiveness, to hopes for blessing and abundance, to pleas for the messianic redemption. Let me also suggest, although I cannot prove it, that both the penitential and eschatological themes in these tkhines are women's adaptations of similar observances of Yom Kippur Qatan— the Eve of Rash Hodesh, observed as a fast day.3 O n the Sabbath preceding Kosh Hodesh, during the morning service in the synagogue after the Torah reading, the time of the arrival of the New Moon is announced, along with brief prayers for the redemption of Israel from exile, implicidy symbolized by the renewal of the moon each month. (This practice was instituted in the geonic period—end of 6 th century to middle of 11th century) In the early eighteenth cerytury, a prayer for faith, health, sustenance, and good fortune in the coming month, adapted from the prayer of Rav recorded in the Talmud (Berakhot 16b), was added preceding the announcement. This prayer first appeared in the Polish ritual, and spread to all Ashkenazic communities. It is still recited today.4 The announcement of the N e w Moon, with its accompanying prayers, is known in Yiddish as Rosh-khoydesh bentshn, "blessing the New Moon," and the Sabbath on which it was performed is called Shabbes mevorkhim, "the Sabbath on which the New Moon is blessed." It came to be considered an et raison, a special time of divine favor, auspicious for petitions to God. The tkhine Vella Grade chanted first appeared in print in the early eighteenth century, and its tangled roots go back even earlier, to sixteenth century Safed, and seventeenth century Poland. Its bibliographical history is complex—one could almost say bizarre—and I will not go into it here. Suffice it to say that it first appeared in full-fledged form in Yiddish (so far as I know), in Seder tkhines (Amsterdam, 1752). It goes back to Nathan Nata Hannover's Tiqqunei tefillot, in his anthology of kabbalistic meditations entided Shaarei Tsiyyon, first published, under the influence of the Lurianic revival, in 1662.5 And while Vella Grade In the sixteenth century, Moses Cordovero and other Kabbalists of Safed, w h o conceived of the waning of the m o o n as a metaphor for the exile of the Shekhinah, G o d ' s indwelling presence, began observing the day before the New Moon as a "Minor Day of A t o n e m e n t " T w o religious impulses were intertwined in this observance. First, it was a day of private penitence for individual sins, and of hope that forgiveness of these sins would lead to a life of blessing and abundance. Equally important, it was a day of collective penance for the sins of the people Israel, and of prayers for the end of the exile in the messianic era, when, according to the kabbalists, the G o d h e a d would be reunited, and the people of Israel would return to their homeland. In Safed, this day was widely observed, by women, as well as men. See Fine, L. ed. 1984. Safed Spirituality. N e w York: Paulist Press, 42, 51. T h e custom of fasting until after n o o n and reciting special penitential prayers on this day was recommended to Eastern European Jews by I. Horowitz in his Shenei luhot ha-berit (first ed., Amsterdam, 1649), and this observance became widespread among both Sefardic and Ashkenazic Jews by the middle of the eighteenth century. Special liturgies were composed; see Goldschmidt, D. 1980. 'Tefillot le-erev rosh hodesh." In Goldschmidt, Mehqerei tefillah u-ftyyut (2nd ed.). Jerusalem: Magnes, 322-340. T h e Ashkenazic liturgies appear to have considerably less eschatological content than d o the Italian and Sefardic liturgies. Millgram, A. \9Ί\. Jewish Worship. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 264-266; Encyclopaedia Judaica. Jerusalem: Keter, 1972, s.v. " N e w Moon, Announcement of." Specifically, the tkhine is a paraphrase in Yiddish of Hannover's Hebrew prayer to be recited on Tuesdays. Perhaps the connection is that both the blessing of the N e w M o o n and Tuesdays were considered an et raison.

recited this prayer at home, it was originally intended for recitation in the synagogue during roysh khoydesh bentshn. The heading in the Amsterdam Seder tkhines reads: "A Tkhine to be said when one blesses the new moon." This tkhine was very popular, and was reprinted, in various tkhine collections, from the 18th through the 20th centuries, although not always in complete form. And second, while it primarily contains requests for livelihood and other blessings, it has a strong penitential theme, including the reciting of the following confession: May you cause me to hear good tidings, true and righteous, and may you give

me a good heart, and forgive my sins: sins and trespasses and transgressions that I have sinned and that I have trespassed and that I have transgressed.6 And may there not be in me any sin or trespass, and may the evil inclination never rule over me. 7

It also includes the so-called Thirteen Attributes of G o d (Ex 34:5-7), a common feature of penitential liturgy, and concludes with the recendy introduced Hebrew prayer for blessing the new moon. Whether because this tkhine originated in the kabbalistic devotions for Tuesdays, or for some other reason, there are halakhic problems with its recitation on the Sabbath, although these did not hinder its growing popularity. In general, penitential prayers and confessions are not supposed to be recited on the Sabbath, because they are considered contrary to the spirit of the day. The Thirteen Attributes are also omitted from the liturgy on the Sabbath; further, they are only supposed to be recited congregationally, and not as a private meditation, whether at home or in synagogue. Thus, there is a lack of fit between the occasion—that is, the Sabbath—and the content—penitential prayers and petitions. This text, however, was not the only tkhine for the Sabbath before the new moon. Two tkhines for this occasion were composed by 18th century Polish Jewish women, "The Tkhine of the Matriarchs" (tkhine imohos) by Leah Horowitz, and the third gate of the "Tkhine of Three Gates" (Tkhine shloyshe sheorim), attributed to Sarah bas Tovim. 8 The Tkhine of the Matriarchs expressly takes issue with the "lack of fit" between the tkhine found in Seder tkhines (Amsterdam, 1752) and the Sabbath. The author, Leah Horowitz (ca. 1720-ca. 1790), daughter of Yukl Horowitz, lived in Bolechow, Dobromil, and Krasnik. She was among the most learned of tkhine authors, conversant with rabbinic and kabbalistic literature. Her eight-page tkhine, Tkhine imohos (The Tkhine of the Matriarchs) contains a Hebrew introduction, an Aramaic liturgical poem on birkat ha-hodesh, and a Yiddish prose paraphrase of the poem, the actual tkhine she offers to her readers. Leah polemicizes against the importation of penitential material into the tkhines for the Sabbath on which the New Moon is announced. In the Hebrew introduction, she says:

6

7 8

This portion of the confession is in Hebrew: hataim va-avonot u-feshaim she-hatati veshe-aviti veshepasha'ti. I have used italic type to indicate the presence of Hebrew, rather than Yiddish, in the original t e x t Seder tkhines u-vakoshes. Fuerth, 1762, no. 66. O n Leah Horowitz and Tkhine imohos, see Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs, chap. 6. O n Sarah bas Tovim, and aspects of her two tkhines, see Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs, chap. 7.

An evil have I seen among my people. Every month, when the new m o o n is blessed, tkhines have been instituted that are not proper for two or three reasons. O n e reason is that it has been ordained not to say on the Sabbath the well-known [formula] "I have sinned, I have transgressed, I have trespassed." There is no need for proof; ... even a beginning school-boy knows that it is a sin. For on a good day (i.e., the Sabbath), everything is good, and the world is therein established; [saying confessions] is a weekday act.

Yet Leah's critique goes deeper than this. Both the tkhine she criticizes and the relatively recendy introduced prayer for announcing the new m o n t h are primarily concerned with asking blessings for the worshiper: "Grant us long life, a life of peace, a life of goodness, a life of blessing, a life with sustenance, a life of vigor and vitality..." For Leah, this is not prayer at all, but merely the barking of Z0har((s, 22a), she says, "They bark like dogs, greedy dogs. Paraphrasing Tiqqunei give us life, e t c . — h a v lan hayyim—there is no one who repents for the sake of the Shekhinah, but all the good that they do, they do only for themselves." Leah offers her own tkhine for the Sabbath before Kosh Hodesh as a substitute for these greedy, self-centered prayers. In Leah's view, proper prayer is for the the tenth sefirah, w h o mediates between the human and sake of the Shekhinah, the Shekhinah, like Israel, is in exile, the divine worlds. According to the kabbalah, and it is the goal of all true prayer and religious performance to end this exile and reunite her with her divine consort, Tiferet, the sixth sefirah. The full and final reunification will only come in the era of messianic redemption. Prayer that strives to bring about this end is "prayer for the sake of heaven." Leah argues strenuously that women are capable of "prayer for the sake of heaven," calling those who would object "fools." In fact, Leah makes a strong argument that women have the power, through their tearful prayer, to bring about the messianic redemption—if only they prayed properly. That is, they should attend synagogue daily, morning and evening, and they should refrain from idle chatter comparing their clothes and jewellery in synagogue. Most imThis is especially important, they must know how to weep for the Shekhinah. portant, Leah says, because "The day of the Lord is near." There are kabbalistic complications here that I discuss more fully elsewhere; briefly, Leah, w h o has a mystical understanding of prayer, is trying to teach women with no such understanding how to pray efficaciously, how to affect the seftrot. Leah simplifies this somewhat in the Yiddish portion of her tkhine, directed at an audience of non-learned women. It begins: 9

Today, when we consecrate the new m o o n , when we say the blessing on the Sabbath before the new moon, then it is a time to petition G o d . Therefore, we spread out our hands before G o d , and say our prayers that you bring us back to Jerusalem, and renew our days as of old. For we have no strength; we can no longer endure the hard, bitter exile, for we are also like the feeble lambs. O u r Sabbaths and festivals and our new moons have been ruined...

Leah then continues with an appeal that the merit of each of the matriarchs will cause G o d to redeem the people of Israel and bring them out of exile. When 9

See Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs, 115-121.

she gets to Rachel, she gives women a model of prayer with weeping that, in her understanding, will be theurgically efficacious, the model of the children of Israel weeping at Rachel's grave: Ο G o d , ... answer us this month, by the merit of our faithful mother Rachel, to w h o m you promised that by her merit, we, the children of Israel, would come out of exile. For when the children of Israel were led into exile, they were led not far from the grave in which our mother Rachel lay. They pleaded with the foe to permit them to go to Rachel's tomb. And when the Israelites came to our mother Rachel, and began to weep and cry, "Mother, mother, how can you look on while right in front of you we are being led into exile?" Rachel went up before G o d with a bitter cry, and spoke: Lord of the world, your mercy is certainly greater than the mercy of any human being. Moreover, I had compassion on my sister Leah when my father switched us and gave her to my husband. H e told her to expect that my husband would think that I was the one. N o matter that it caused me great pain; I told her the signs [that Jacob and I had agreed upon to prevent the switch]. Thus, even more so, it is undoubtedly fitting for you, G o d , w h o are entirely compassionate and gracious, to have mercy and bring us out of this exile now. So may it come to pass, for the sake of her merit. 10

This dramatic depiction of the children of Israel, on their way into exile, pleading at Rachel's t o m b for her aid, and Rachel's impassioned plea to G o d , expresses the anguish of later Jews in exile, and their hope for redemption. Rachel, the matriarch most typically identified with the Shekhinah, is moved by her maternal concern for the children of Israel to recall her own struggles with passion and jealousy. She calls G o d to account to have compassion on Israel, as she had compassion for her sister. But this passage is even more than a heart-rending and powerful picture: it is the paradigm for "prayer for the sake of heaven." When the children of Israel come to Rachel's tomb, they weep·, their tears stir Rachel to respond with a bitter cry of her own. And Rachel's tearful plea to the Holy O n e causes him to respond with redemption: "and your children shall come back to their own country" (Jer 31:17). Thus, there is a graphic depiction of the effectiveness of tearful prayer. Leah's tkhine pointedly does not include the new prayer associated with blessing the new moon. And it is clear that her text rejects both the penitential themes and prayers for abundant blessing and protection found in the earlier material. Rather, for Leah, the m o m e n t of blessing the new moon, an et raison, must focus on eschatological hopes for the messianic redemption. The third text is Tkhine shloyshe sheorim (The Tkhine of Three Gates), by the legendary Sarah bas Tovim of Satanow. While Sarah's dates are unknown, the text itself can be dated to approximately the 1740's, and in any case, no earlier that 1732.11 Unlike Leah, w h o read rabbinic and Kabbalistic sources in Hebrew and Aramaic, Sarah seems to have worked exclusively with Yiddish paraphrases 10 11

T h e source of this passage is, ultimately, Midrash Lamentations Rabbati,petihta 24:23-25. It includes material f r o m the a n o n y m o u s Sabbatian work, Sefer litmdat jamim, first published in 1732, a n d reprinted in Zolkiew in the 1740's.

and translations of kabbalistic and rabbinic texts. (She does seem to have known a certain amount of Hebrew.) O n e of the "gates" of this tkhine is devoted to the Sabbath before the N e w Moon. Unlike Leah Horowitz's reasoned and logical text, this portion of Sarah bas Tovim's tkhine is a disorganized pastiche of sometimes unrelated material. It begins with an impassioned plea, deriving from the Sabbatian pietistic work Sefer Hemdatyamim, begging Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and "the King Messiah" to arise from their graves and beg G o d to bring the redemption. This passage ends with the recitation of the Thirteen Attributes. Next comes the Hebrew prayer for the blessing of the new month, each phrase of which is followed by a Yiddish translation and interpretation. Next, oddly enough, there is a description of women in paradise, deriving ultimately from the Zohar. Sarah compiled all of these passages from other sources; however, the tkhine concludes with a long passage for which I have not yet identified an external source, and parts of which may have been written by the author herself. In any case, it combines three themes: pleas for the messianic redemption, prayers for forgiveness of sin and individual salvation, and hopes for individual benefits, both material and spiritual. Like much of Sarah's writing, it is quite powerful. This is how it begins: Lord of the whole world, hear my cry and answer me. Free us this year! May we be delivered from the bitter Exile, and may our bodies be removed from trouble. For we are like a firstborn child moaning in pain, like sheep without a shepherd, like a ship without a helm, like orphans without a father, like sucklings without a mother. I hope in the living God, that he may accept my great petition, as he accepts the petitions of all the low in spirit and the brokenhearted; may God accept my prayer and my broken heart. May the merit of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and of all the Little children who died before their time, plead for us. May the merciful angels also plead for us. This part of the passage shades from messianic hope to individual petition. A little later, the focus definitely becomes more personal: Lord of the whole world, with your right hand and with your left hand, with which you have created the world, may you spread those hands over us and help us P]. The God who saved Abraham from the fiery furnace, may that God, blessed be he, not send any evil to our children before our eyes. The God who saved Isaac when he was bound on the altar, may that God, blessed be he, bless our children with both his gende hands. The God who saved Jacob from the hands of Esau and Laban, may that God, blessed be he, grant that we be able to bless our children at the marriage canopy with our own hands. Next, the text turns back to messianic themes, and concludes on an eschatological note: The Shekhinah went into exile through a gate, and through that gate w‫ ש‬she return in the future. The Mount of Olives is opposite that gate, and if one stands on the Mount, one can see the gate, just as it says in the verse: "On that day, He will set his feet on the Mount of Olives "For every eye will behold the Lord's 12

Zech 14:4.

return"3‫ י‬through that gate. This means: And their feet will stand on that day on the Mount of Olives, and also they will see with their eyes how God, blessed be he, wffl return to Zion, and it will be rebuilt, and Jerusalem will be comforted, and the Messiah will come, speedily and soon, and the dead will come to life, speedily and soon, and wonders and miracles will be seen and heard, and [a voice] will cry out in the heavens, speedily and soon, to the Messiah, that he should prepare himself to be crowned with the holy crown, that he should arise, for the dear time is come when Israel will be delivered, speedily and soon. And may I, the woman Sarah, live to see how the Fathers and Mothers rejoice when that dear time comes. The holy Zohar writes, Redemption depends only on repentance, and on prayer with tears, which comes from the heart.14 Therefore, I, the woman Sarah, entreat you that you say your prayers with great devotion and with awe, fir prayer without devotion is like a body without a soul. Therefore, I pray the dear God, blessed be he, that my soul may come without any fear or fright to the place under the Throne of Glory from which it was taken, and that the Redeemer may come speedily in our days. Amen. Clearly, there is some similarity of content between this text and the Tkhine of the Matriarchs, even if there is a difference in tone. Both Leah and Sarah feel that redemption may be imminent; both Leah and Sarah stress the importance of women's devoted, tearful prayer. Sarah, however, sees nothing wrong in also asking for God's help in bringing her children to the wedding canopy. In reviewing all three of these tkhines, we note that the text later recited by Vella Grade was in fact the earliest text, originating in Hannover's Shaarei tsiyyon. Although this tkhine was first printed in Yiddish paraphrase in the eighteenth century, its content is of the seventeenth. This tkhine stresses individual repentance and blessing. A lot happened in Jewish eastern Europe in the intervening eighty to a hundred years before the composition of the two eighteenth century texts: the Sabbatian messianic movement and, depending on the dates of the two texts, perhaps the beginnings of Hasidism and Frankism. This atmosphere of religious excitement and messianic fervor is expressed in both Tkhine imohos and Tkhine shlojshe sheorim. Yet even as that excitement passed, the tkhines that expressed it survived. Sarah bas Tovim's impassioned plea for redemption appeared in various tkhine collections throughout the nineteenth century, while Leah Horowitz's messianic tkhine and the Amsterdam penitential tkhine against which she polemicized are printed, ironically, side by side in tkhine collections and prayer books such as Korban minkhe with Yiddish translation, well into the twentieth century. Perhaps, then, this combination restores the main character of Yom Kippur Qatan observances, their blend of penitence and messianic expectation, which may have been the original model for the heightened observance of shabbes mevorkhim among Polish Jewish women. But whether or not the Minor Day of Atonement is actually the origin of this observance, it is clear that women, as well as men, felt the need to express both personal and eschatological hopes at the renewal of the moon.

13 14

Is 52:8. Cf. Z o h a r II 12b.

PART SEPHARDIC

FIVE STUDIES

E L RÉGIMEN DE COMPARATIVO Y SUPERLATIVO EN LA TRADUCCIÔN LADINADA (SIGLO XV) DEL CuZARI

DE Y E H U D A HALEVI

CARMEN ALBERT Universidad Complutense, Madrid, Spain E n la Biblioteca Nacional de Madrid se encuentra el manuscrito con signatura ms. 17812 que contiene'la obra catalogada como Exposition deljudaismo. Se trata de una traducciôn al castellano de la obra de Yehuda Halevi, Sefer ha-Cu^ari. La existencia del manuscrito, antes solo mencionado de pasada por Baer ο en el Catâlogo de las obras que pertenecieron a don Pascual de Gayangos, se dio a conocer a través de la ediciôn realizada por Moshe Lazar para Labyrinthos en 1990, y posteriormente, con un facsimil publicado por José Escudero Rios en 1996. La traducciôn que aqui encontramos, como ya afirma Lazar en el prôlogo a su ediciôn, se basa en la version hebrea que Ibn Tibbon realizô a partir del original árabe. El texto, que traduce del hebreo con bastante libertad, reproduce la obra compléta excepto algunas secciones, de contenido estrictamente lingüisrico, que el traductor califica como intraducibles. Falta, además, el primer folio del manuscrito, que se perdiô en algûn momento de la historia de éste. Nos encontramos aqui ante uno de los mejores ejemplos de ladinamiento medieval, item más si consideramos que, al no tratarse de una Biblia ni libro de oraciones, contendrà nuevas palabras y estructuras no registradas antes en castellano-calco. Pretendo centrar la atenciôn sobre el uso que en el texto se hace del adjerivo calificadvo, en particular sobre las estructuras valorativas en las que se utiliza. El numéro de adjetivos calificativos es abundante en esta obra, sobre todo si tenemos en cuenta la aficiôn del traductor—comûn en la retôrica medieval, por otra parte—por utilizar dos vocablos sinônimos traduciendo la palabra original. Predominan los adjetivos primarios—no derivados—y los participios de presente y pasado, aunque también encontramos adjetivos secundarios, sobre todo en -oso, -ivo y -al (ej.: divinal, çeloso, discritiva), y la forma metaverbal en -dor (ej.: apanador, vengador, aportilladores). N o cabe, dado lo reducido del espacio, llevar a cabo ahora una caracterizaciôn formai de todo esto, ni ocuparnos de las formas sustitutivas del adjetivo, donde habria que hablar, entre otras cosas, de las formulas con de confluyentes con el estado constructo, y de las estructuras de reladvo con carácter ilativo. En lo que se refiere a la colocaciôn en la frase, el adjetivo se situa de forma indistinta antecediendo ο siguiendo al sustantivo al que modifica, y no es éste el momento de establecer hipôtesis sobre las motivaciones para esta posposiciôn ο anteposiciôn. Recordemos, sin embargo, que nos encontramos ante un texto traducido del hebreo, y que en hebreo el adjetivo siempre va pospuesto, y en él

no se distinguen por la posiciôn la funciôn atribudva y la predicadva. Por lo tanto, será dificil, si no imposible, determinar en qué casos la posposiciôn del adjetivo se deba a una fidelidad a la traducciôn, y en qué otros exista una razôn de indole expresiva. Además, el texto que aqui tenemos, c o m o ya he mencionado, abunda en parejas y trios de adjetivos. Siguiendo aqui la reflexion de Paufler sobre que el factor cuantitativo (la posposiciôn del elemento más largo) juega un papel importante en la colocaciôn del adjetivo, 1 vemos que gran parte de los adjetivos de este texto aparecerán pospuestos por razones de mero orden sintáctico y lôgico, y no por otras de naturaleza expresiva. Sobre la bivalencia de aigunos adjetivos que indican tamano (ej. grande, alto) a los que frecuentemente se atribuye un significado diferido, habrá que hablar en otro lugar. Se observan en este texto algunos casos de ladinamiento evidente. Destacaré, por su frecuencia de apariciôn, très situaciones relacionadas con el adjetivo: 1. E n primer lugar, la tendencia a determinar con articulo el adjetivo que sigue a un sustantivo determinado. Se trata de un claro calco del hebreo, donde sustantivos y adjetivos concuerdan no solo en género y numéro, sino también en determinaciôn. Ej. Esta mar la grande, (fol. 140a1) Ej. los varones del apanamiento el grande, (fol. 126a2)

Esta concordancia sucede también en árabe, y asi la encontramos a menudo en la prosa medieval de las traducciones del árabe. Cito algunos ejemplos recogidos por Alvaro Galmés: 2 Ej. Y pusole en su m a n o la bendita. (Libro de las Batallas, 64v, 11) Ej. Volviôse a nosotros con su cara la fermosa. (B.P. 3226: 19v, 9)

2. La estructura de comparativo (adj. + más que...), que aparece en ocasiones en el texto, y que refleja el calco de la formulaciôn hebraica (adj. + ‫)יותר מ ן‬. Ej. en el logar escogido y singularizado más que otro logar alguno. (fol. 46a2) Ej. de la m a n o de los fuertes más que ellos. (fol. l O l b l )

3. E n te, tan demos alterna

tercer lugar, encontramos un abundantisimo uso del participio de presencaracteristico de la lengua calco y del judeoespanol en general, y que poencontrar por doquier también en las biblias romanceadas. Este uso se con o t r o — m u c h o más escaso—de la forma metaverbal en -dor.

Ej. la gloria del m u n d o viniente. (fol. 101 al) Ej. del ánima razonable, la sapiente y memorante. (fol. 144b1)

El participio de présente conserva a menudo su régimen verbal, y aparece acompanado de complementos. Ej. asi c o m m o de aportüladores e confondientes la Ley, y negantes la rayz que es profeçia y esprito de santidat. (fol. 127a1)

1 2

Paufler: Strukturproblem... (réf. en Garcia Gonzâlez: 110). Galmés de Fuentes 1996: 215.

E n los textos castellanos de esta época (siglo XV) que presentan un carácter culto ο tendencia ladnizante podemos también encontrar este uso del pardcipio présente, influido por la forma latina équivalente, y que tiene ya un uso escaso y decreciente. Asi lo encontramos en autores de marcada impronta culta como Enrique de Villena, Alonso de Cartagena ο Rodriguez del Padrôn. Veamos algunos ejemplos: Ej. en el cuarto concilio de Toledo, reinante el rey Sisignando. (Cartagena, Doctrinal de cavalleros, 14 [fol. 2r])

Ej. si [...] alcançasen feliçidad tenporal, saçiante sus voluntades. (E. de \ ^ e n a , Tratado de la consolaàôn, 104)

Este uso del participio présente es un rasgo compartido por la lengua aljamiadomorisca, como nos muestran los estudios de Alvaro Galmés sobre la mismo. Cito a Galmés: "la literatura aljamiado-morisca abusa extensamente del pardcipio présente, usado con valor verbal acompafiado de complementos como ocurre en la lengua árabe." 3 Me centraré ahora en las distintas estructuras intensivas en las que podemos identificar el uso del adjetivo. He optado por destacar cinco casos: 1. E n primer lugar encontramos el adjetivo acompanado de adverbios con carácter valorativo ο ponderativo, taies como tan, muj/ muncho, grande,flaco,alto. Ej. Ej. Ej. Ej.

nuestro Senor Alto (forma lexicalizada de apariciôn frecuente en el texto). y le fizo grande honra. (fol. 30al) grandisima retôrica exçelente. (fol. 4al) que siempre manaban cosas ynfinitas de su boca sobre el más flaco sojebto de çiençia ο misterio que estoviesen. (fol. 128a2) Ej. gente santa, abstrayda d materia y tanto fuerte de forma, (fol. 77bl)

Muj/muncho, de claro carácter intensificador, se alternan en su uso adverbial. Muncho equivale a muy cuando antepuesto, y se dan casos de doble intensificaciôn, donde se usa la formula muj muncho. El vocablo mucho suele aparecer marcado en el ms. con un signo de nasalizaciôn, por lo cual creo debemos leerlo como "muncho," forma caracteristica, por otro lado, del judeoespanol, y que vamos a encontrar en muchas ocasiones en las copias de la literatura tradicional, aunque no he encontrado paralelo alguno en otros textos ladinados medievales ο en las biblias romanceadas. Ej. denen los tesdgos muncho lexos. (fol. 31 b l ) Ej. la esençia divinal es ensalçada y separada, y muy m u n c h o enaltesçida. (fol. 39a2) Ej. siendo muy más dignos de privaciôn que de firmamiento. (fol. 98b 1)

2. En segundo lugar debo hablar del uso paranomâsico con valor intensivo, que consiste en la reduplicaciôn de la raiz del adjetivo que se quiere intensificar. Se trata de una formula de clara influencia semitica, présente también en las

‫נ‬

Galmés de Fuentes 1965: 539.

traducciones medievales del árabe y en la literatura aljamiado-morisca. 4 Asi, por ejemplo, aparece très veces en el texto la formula "ynposible de toda ynposibledat." 3. E n tercer lugar tenemos el ya mencionado rasgo de la pluralidad de adjetivos: parejas ο trios de vocablos relacionados entre si, ya sinônimos, ya antônimos, ya enumeraciones dentro de un mismo campo semântico. Se trata de un rasgo caracteristico de toda la retôrica medieval. E n el caso de los sinônimos, nos encontramos con lo que Sephiha ha dado en llamar "redoublements synonymiques." 5 Este hecho no se limita al uso del adjetivo, sino que también es frecuente para otras categorias gramaticales como verbos, sustantivos ο adverbios. E n el caso del adjetivo suelen utilizarse parejas de participios de pasado, aunque no de forma exclusiva. Veamos algunos ejemplos: Ej. todo esto es Cosa publica e sabida. (fol. 5a2) Ej. a tus contrarios y a los lidiantes contigo. (fol. 6 b l )

4. Me ocupo ahora del régimen de comparativo, cuarto punto en esta clasificaciôn de estructuras valorativas. Hay que distinguir entre los distintos grados de la comparaciôn: 4.1. El comparativo de igualdad se sirve de la estructura más habitual en castellano "tan.... como." Ej. una cosa tanto baxa c o m m o el onbre. (fol. 55bl)

La forma "asi c o m m o . . . " se usa a menudo para establecer similes y para introducir exempli. 4.2. El comparativo de inferioridad usa la formula "menos .... que." 4.3. El comparativo en grado de superioridad suele presentar la forma habituai del castellano "más que": Ej. ,;Non contenplas si la luz del coraçôn y yntelecto es mas delgada y mas noble que non aquella luz sensible [...]? (fol. 69b2)

A menudo esta formula se acompana de un intensivo c o m o muy / muncho: Ej. era muy más fuerte que non él. (fol. 45b 1) Ej. la quai es m u n c h o más grave de resçebir sin dubda que la ynovaçiôn. (fol. liai)

o ambos intensificadores a la vez: Ej. eran muy m u n c h o más fuertes que non ellos. (fol. 27al)

El segundo término de la comparaciôn puede aparecer negado ο afirmado indistintamente y con el mismo valor: Ej. somos muy más dignos que ellos. (fol. 3al). Ej. era muy más fuerte que non él. (fol. 45bl)

4 5

Galmés de Fuentes 1996: 200 y ss. Sephiha 1977: 292.

Ya he mencionado, en el apartado de los calcos del hebreo, las estructuras de comparadvo que traducen la formula de ‫יותר מ ן‬. Ej. de la mano de los fuertes más que ellos. (fol. l O l b l )

Existe un caso posible de calco de ‫ יותר ע ל‬en: Ej. y fazer fermosas obras sobre las obras de otros. (fol. 104a2)

5. Finalmente, el grado superlativo présenta algunos aspectos interesantes y novedosos a nuestro conocimiento. Ya hemos hablado de la alternancia muylmuncho y de la formula paranomâsica con valor intensivo. Por otra parte, la acunaciôn de la forma sintética en -isimo se reduce a unos cuantos vocablos que se repiten sistemáticamente (sanusimo, grandisimo, sinpiïsimo) Ej. el [...] santisimo Abraham, (fol. 34a2)

y otro punado de adjedvos, siempre con un carácter claramente apreciativo: aldsimo, clarisimo, perfecdsimo, feliçisimo, sapiendsimo y verisimo). E n ocasiones, este superlativo absoluto se ve incrementado con la anteposiciôn del intensificador muj (Ej. con muj gra(t)disim0 go%o, fol. 86bl). El grado superlativo relativo utiliza básicamente la estructura puramente castellana de (el más de): Ej. a los más nobles de los fljos de Levi. (fol. 58a2)

Existe, por ultimo, una estructura de superlativo, distinta a todo uso del castellano, y de la cual he podido encontrar paralelos en una traducciôn medieval coetânea de la Guia deperplejos. Se trata de la expresiôn tipo "perfecto en fin de la perfecciôn" (fol. 19b2). Esta formula aparece en gran numéro de ocasiones: Ej. un saber divinal declarado en fin de la declaraçiôn. (fol. 12b2)

Y hasta tal punto está asimilada que en la mitad de los casos se omite el adjetivo que se quiere intensificar: Ej. Pero esto que te diré será todo en fin de la cortedat y brevedat. (fol. 135a1)

Esta expresiôn, que no he encontrado resenada en ningún lugar, parece traducir la formula (adj + ‫ בתכלית‬+ sust.) que se da en hebreo medieval. Jastrow traduce como "finalidad, fin, perfecciôn." Aunque no siempre que esta expresiôn aparece lo hace traduciendo su équivalente en hebreo, sino alguna otra similar. Asi, cuando el texto dice en fin de la diminuçiôn (fol. l a l ) , está traduciendo del hebreo ‫" =( ב ת כ ל י ת החסרון‬en el fin de la carencia"); y cuando el texto ladinado dice saber divinal declarado en fin de la declaraçiôn (fol. 112b2) traduce del texto hebreo ‫הבאור‬ ‫" =( מ פ ר ש ת ת כ ל י ת‬saber perfecto muy claro fin de la aclaraciôn") donde en lugar de reduplicaciôn de la raíz del adjetivo se utiliza una raiz sinônima (‫ באר‬/ ‫)פרש‬. Termino asi este primer esbozo sobre el uso del adjetivo en este tipo de textos medievales. Muchas cosas han quedado fuera. Otras irán llegando.

Bibliografia Cartagena, Alonso de, 1995. Doctrinal de los Cavalleros. Univ. de Santiago de Compostela. Galmés de Fuentes, A. 1965. "Interés en el orden lingüistico de la literatura espanola

aljamiado-morisca." Actes du X' congrès International de Linguistique et Philologie Romanes. Paris.

, 1996. 1nfluencias sintácticas y estilisticas del arabe en la prosa medieval castellana. Madrid: Gredos.

Garcia Gonzalez, J. 1990. Contribution a! estudio de la sintaxis histôrica del adjetivo en espanol (tesis doctoral). Madrid: Univ. Complutense.

Maimonides, 1989. Guide for the Perplexed (a 15,h century Spanish Translation !y Pedro de Toledo). Ed. M. Lazar. California: Labyrinthos. Sephiha, H. V. 1977. "L'intensité en judéo-espagnol." E n Iberica I. Ed. H. V. Séphiha. Paris: Éditions Hispaniques, Sorbonne, 285-294. Yehuda Halevi. Cu^ari (ms. 17812 Β. Ν de Madrid).

ELEMENTOS HISPÂNICOS Y JAQUÉTICOS EN LOS REFRANES JUDEO-ESPANOLES DE MARRUECOS TAMAR ALEXANDER & YAAKOV BENTOLILA Universidad Ben-Gurion del Neguev, Beer-Sheva, Israel

Elaboration del corpus1 El présente trabajo está basado en dos colecciones de refranes judeo-espafioles, ο jaquédcos, de Marruecos, una que se publico en 1978 (Benazeraf; abrev.: Β A), y la otra, inédita, consiste en un manuscrito, compilado p o r Anita Levy (abrev.: AL), emigrada al Canadá, donde falleciô hace pocos anos. Muchos de esos refranes figuran también en el repertorio paremiolôgico hispânico general, sea porque ambos repertorios, el hispânico y el jaquético, denen raices comunes, ο porque refranes hispânicos han sido adoptados por los judios de las comunidades de lo que fue el Marruecos espanol. Esos proverbios espanoles han podido ser adaptados lingüisticamente a la Jaqueda. P o r otra parte, los proverbios jaquédcos han atravesado p o r un proceso general de "castellanizaciôn" que caracteriza culturalmente a dichas comunidades. A pesar de contraponerse, ambas tendencias coexisten en lo que concierne a los refranes. La cuesdôn que nuestro trabajo se p r o p u s o resolver fue saber en qué medida aquellos proverbios conservan su carácter lingüisdco y cultural original, espanol ο jaquético. H e m o s intentado responder a esa cuesdôn, mediante la comparaciôn de las colecciones jaquéticas con dos compilaciones paremiolôgicas hispánicas: Maldonado 1974 (abrev.: M) y Campos & Barella 1993 (abrev.: C&B). Para efectuar la comparaciôn, hemos procedido c o m o sigue: 1. H e m o s dado una nota a cada u n o de los refranes jaquéticos. Dicha nota, deducida combinadamente de la cantidad de rasgos jaquéticos y del tamano del refrán, indica el nivel de caracterizaciôn jaquética de éste. Los refranes se alinean pues del más jaquético, que ha obtenido la nota 18, hasta todos aquellos que han recibido un cero. Los rasgos jaquéticos más importantes son: el uso de una palabra dpicamente jaquética (vocablos de etimologia árabe, hebrea, etc.); estructuras morfolôgicas peculiares, c o m o " t o m i m o s " ( = " t o m a m o s " ) ; propiedades fonolôgicas: " s " intervocâlica sonora, geminaciôn de consonantes, velarizaciôn de labiales en el entorno de vocales posteriores—"gueno" (="bueno), el sincope de la fricativa palatal intervocâlica—"maravia" (="mara villa"), etc. 2. Establecimos una lista de todas las palabras de contenido semântico (excluyendo vocablos gramaticales, conjunciones, etc.), reuniendo bajo un m i s m o encabezamiento las ocurrencias distintas: " c o m i m o s , " "comerâs" " c o m e " , todas Esta primera parte ha sido preparada y presentada por Yaakov Bentolila.

bajo la palabra-clave "comer." Esas palabras-clave recibieron también una nota, deducida de los refranes previamente anotados en los que se hallaron. Por ejemplo: la palabra "aceite" dene la nota 3,66, porque figura en très refranes jaquéticos, que recibieron respectivamente las notas de 0, 6 y 5. 3. Finalmente reunimos una muestra de 41 palabras-clave. El criterio fue que habian de tener una frecuencia de más de dos ocurrencias y que debian representar toda la gama de notas, de las mas altas hasta la de cero. La más frecuente es "Dios" que aparece 191 veces; siguen "dar" (164), tener (150); entre las menos frecuentes hallamos "cocina" (3), "reir" (5), "ajuar" (6). Las notas más altas en esta muestra son 7.33 ("ayuno"), 5.33 ("cosa" y "cocina"), 5.00 ("casar"). Esas 41 palabras-clave encabezan 1906 ocurrencias, pero no todas las ocurrencias, ο no todas las palabras, figuran en refranes jaquéticos y espanoles que pueden considerarse como paralelos y por lo tanto prestarse a la comparaciôn. Como tuvimos que operar únicamente con refranes paralelos, nos quedamos finalmente con 29 palabras-clave, 96 proverbios espanoles y 123 jaquéticos, los cuales constituyeron el objeto de nuestro estudio. Variantes, cuando las hay, se contaron por refranes a parte entera.

Lista de las 29 palabras analizadas 2 ayuno anafe cosa cocina casar mayor haver casa aceite ajuar bajar mirar ver negro padre corner mano ir Dios venir adobar querer dar día cansar 2

Free. 3 3 30 3 48 11 5 103 5 6 3 25 83 32 31 100 58 108 191 74 3 129 164 46 6

F.BA 2 1 3 3 11 2 3 24 2 1 3 13 17 15 10 22 13 16 22 16 2 17 33 13 2

F.AL 1 2 0 0 8 1 2 13 1 2 0 6 16 5 10 16 6 16 12 15 1 12 19 6 1

F.BAL 3 3 3 3 19 3 5 37 3 3 3 19 33 20 20 38 19 32 34 31 3 29 52 19 3

Nota 7.33 6.33 5.33 5.33 5 4.66 4.6 .3.70 3.66 3.66 3.33 3.31 2.93 2.9 2.9 2.81 2.57 2.56 2.5 2.25 2 1.93 1.80 1.78 1.66

F. BA = frecuencia en la colecciôn de Benazeraf; F. AL = idem en la colecciôn de Anita Levy; F. BAL = idem en ambas colecciones jaquéricas.

mal madre bien camino bianco alzar hijo tener cerrar crecer reir valer balde gente clavo hoja

135 37 122 12 7 5 41 150 15 10 5 79 12 5 7 6

22 8 16 0 3 2 14 36 4 2 1 23 1 3 1 2

19 13 14 3 0 1 8 23 2 1 1 2 2 0 2 1

41 21 30 3 3 3 22 59 6 3 2 25 3 3 3 3

1.56 1.52 1.43 1.33 1.33 1.33 1.27 1.20 1 0.66 0.5 0.44 0 0 0 0

La comparaciôn se efectuô a partir de cuatro criterios: a) el mensaje; b) 01 tema; c) la estructura, ο formulaciôn (implica sintaxis, modos y tiempos verbales, etc.); d) el vocabulario. El tema corresponde al significado literal del refrán; siempre es explicito, puesto que sobresale directamente del texto como tal. El mensaje se refiere a la idea general, a la intenciôn ο a la funciôn del refrán; éstos pueden ofrecerse de m o d o explicito ο implicito, pero en este caso incumbe al destinatario del refrán (ο al investigador) deducir el sentido pragmâtico del proverbio. La formulaciôn ο los vocablos usados pueden variar también entre los paralelos. Un ejemplo: Vibda de buen marido y no cazzada con mal rnarido (BA 552) / / Para mal maridar, más vale nunca casar (M 1200) El mensaje es el mismo: ambos refranes aportan la ensenanza de que es preferible quedarse sola a aceptar un marido indeseable. El vocabulario se puede considerar comûn a los dos refranes, puesto que figuran las palabras-clave "marido" "casar/casada" " b u e n " "mal." Pero la formulaciôn es diferente, de lo que resultan dos estructuras disdntas: A prep. buen C, y no B prep. mal C / / para mal A más vale (adv.) Β E n jaqueda A y B son sustantivos, mientras que en espafiol son verbos. E n la version jaquérica, se trata de las preferencias de una viuda, mientras que en la espanola la idea se exriende también a una mujer soltera. El tema pues es diferente. Este refrán se analiza según el modelo: =mensaje

Sterna

^formulaciôn

=vocabulario

Esos cuatro criterios, según se dé diferencia ο similitud entre el refrán jaquérico y el espanol, nos han permiddo clasificar los pares de refranes en 12 modelos distintos. 74 refranes jaquéticos, ο sea más de la mitad, entran en modelos donde tanto el mensaje como el tema son idénticos a los refranes espanoles correspondientes. Se trata de refranes espanoles incorporados al repertorio verbal de los judios oriundos del norte de Marruecos. Por ejemplo:

Quien madruga el Dio le ayuda (BA 471) / / Quien madruga, Dios le ayuda (M

1268)

que se analiza segûn el modelo: =mensaje

=tema

=formulaciôn

=vocabulario

Las notas calculadas a esos refranes son por lo general relativamente bajas. Lo mismo que los rasgos lingûisdcos peculiares de la jaqueda, la formulaciôn y el vocabulario pardcipan de la "jaquedzaciôn" de refranes espafioles, de su integraciôn en el repertorio lingûisdco. Además, la integraciôn de refranes espanoies en el patrimonio cultural, y no meramente lingûisdco, supone también mutaciôn del mensaje ο del tema. Veamos varios refranes jaquéticos que ejemplifican los modelos donde el mensaje y / o el tema se apartan de sus homôlogos espafioles. Estos serán objeto de un anâlisis más detallado más adelante. Desbanaibos madré que no vino padre (AL 88) / / Tiraos, padre, y pasarse ha mi madré (C&B 2613) ?^mensaje

Sterna

^formulaciôn

^vocabulario

Da un palmo al perro, tomara cuatro (BA 123) Al judio dadle un palmo y tomará cuatro (C&B 1976) =mensaje

Sterna

^formulaciôn

^vocabulario

Buen mazzal tengas hija, que el saber poco te apresta (BA 56) / / Fortuna te dé Dios, hijo, que el saber poco te basta (C&B 3366) =mensaje

Sterna

=formulaciôn

^vocabulario

El mal del Milano y el papa sano (AL 116) / / El mal del milano, las alas quebradas y el papo sano (C&B 2105) ^mensaje

Sterna

=formulaciôn

^vocabulario

Desigualdades en el mensaje y / ο en el tema son las que contribuyen más al grado de jaquetizaciôn de los proverbios. Eso consta en los promedios de las notas calculadas cuando agrupamos los refranes segûn esos dos criterios: a) b) c) d)

=mensaje =mensaje ^mensaje ^mensaje

=tema ^tema =tema Sterna

74 27 6 16

0.71 1.25 1.83 2.75

La gran proportion de refranes del repertorio jaquético que presentan mensajes ο temas ocurrentes en las colecciones hispánicas, como también el hecho de que el tema influye menos que el mensaje—todo eso refleja un alto nivel de la "hispanizaciôn" que se alcanzô en esas comunidades. N o obstante, los refranes más castizos, y por lo tanto los que reciben una nota más alta, son aquéllos que conciernen a las preocupaciones más puramente cotidianas de los miembros de la comunidad. Pero como estos refranes no denen homôlogos espafioles, no han sido tratados en nuestro trabajo. Aazarito, mi yerno, wahed l'ummu Al hattar no le falta alhena Au cuando vay! vay! au cuando baruj habba

BA 2 AL 16 BA 43

Cada c o z z a y su mazzal hatta el sefer en el hejal

B A 58

Cazzar cazzar que la landra v i e n e

A L 41

C h o l l o y m o l l o y capi aburacado

AL 42

X o l - l o y M o l - l o y capia aburacada

B A 555

C o m i t é ο n o c o m i t é a la m e z z a te pusites

A L 45

C o m i t é s ο n o c o m i t é s a la m e z a te puzzites

BA 80

D e t o d o tiene O r i c o hatta alhena e n el culico

A L 82

D e c h a t o d o m u j j e r y baite al b a n o

A L 85

El mazzal d e la fea la h e r m o z z a le d e s s e a

B A 190

El que se cazza cazza quiere

A L 129

Fantaz-zia y la boisa bazia

BA 230

H a c e r ver el h o l a m pacharitos

A L 150

H a h a m de docena!

BA 246

H i z o esta y m e z z a

BA 262

J u r o Rahel p o r M e n a h e m

B A 271

K a d e el pan kade el k e z o

BA 272

Para que vinites m a m m a sin dexar n i n g u n o e n cazza

BA 424 B A 421

Para'l D i o , nada es madavia

B A 451

Q u e m i la cevada y aaudei el trigo

BA 470

Q u i e n luzze c o n la c o z z i n a n o luzze c o n la bezina

BA 522

S o b r e v i v o s c u z z o que s o b r e m u e r t o s n o es m i l u z z o

BA 544

U n o en maarab y o t r o e n mizrah

H e m o s visto ejemplos de adaptaciones jaquédcas de refranes espanoles. La corriente opuesta, ο sea "castellanizaciôn" de refranes jaquédcos parece ser más floja. C o m o se ha precisado en un articulo que está en prensa (Bentolila, en prensa), se trata de adaptaciones menores, sobre todo en el dominio fonolôgico. Hemos observado los resultados siguientes: 1) pocos refranes jaquéticos (14/123, ο sea el 11 %) reproducen integralmente versiones espanolas; 2) una gran proporciôn (60/123: 49 %) reproducen también versiones espanolas, pero la jaquetia se percibe por adaptaciones en la fraseologia ο la formulaciôn, en simplificaciones sintácticas y substituciones léxicas 24 refranes presentan rasgos fonolôgicos ο morfolôgicos jaquéticos; 3) 33 refranes (33/123: 27 %) difieren de los homôlogos espanoles en el mensaje ο en el tema—12 de ellos presentan rasgos jaquéticos; los demás (16/123: 13 %) difieren prácticamente en todo de los paralelos espanoles, y se incluyen aqui ûnicamente por estar vinculados a

+ =mensaje

=tema

= formulaciôn/vocabulario

14

3

17

=mensaje

=tema

=/#formulaciôn/vocabulario

36

21

57 27

=mensaje

#tema

formulaciôn/vocabulario

16

11

^mensaje

=tema

=/^formulac1ôn/vocabulario

5

1

6

^mensaje

Sterna

=/^formulaciôn/vocabulario

7

9

16

Total

78

45

123

63%

37%

Relaciones interculturales entre los proverbios hispânicos y jaquéticos3 El aspecto principal de la idenddad de los grupos étnicos está expresado en su folklore. Como idenddad étnica, esta compuesto por diferentes tradiciones comunes de la cultura circundante, y el folklore es una forma dinámica, flexible, no obligatoria y permite expresiones que diferencian a los grupos. Para que una tradiciôn folklôrica pueda expresar la idenddad comunal del grupo, tiene que pasar por un proceso de adaptation designado en la disciplina del folklore, por el término de "oicotipificaciôn" (Von-Sydow 1965). Este proceso es necesario para la vitalidad de la tradiciôn folklôrica cuando pasa de cultura a cultura. La tradition folklôrica judeo-hispana tiene très componentes principales: a) la tradiciôn judia—los clàsicos textos hebraicos comunes a toda la cultura judia; b) la tradiciôn hispana; c) la cultura ambiental de los paises adonde llegaron los judios sefardies después de su expulsion de Espana, como Turquia, Grecia y Marruecos. Esta observation se refiere a todos los judios sefardies, pero el segundo factor, la continua influencia de la cultura hispánica, es más importante entre los judios sefardies de Marruecos por la constante y estrecha interaction entre estas dos culturas. Dado que el proverbio es una corta frase poética estructurada, está más ligado a la tradiciôn que al cuento ο a la canciôn. Por eso el proverbio guarda mejor las verdades de la cultura, de la cual ha sido tomado. Además, a medida que el proceso de adaptation del proverbio profundiza en la cultura de los grupos, se producen cambios significativos en la formulation del proverbio, sus temas, mensajes y vocabulario. Compararemos algunos proverbios hispanos con sus paralelos jaquéticos, de acuerdo con très categorias que expresan el nivel de adaptation: 1. Adaptation profunda: cambios en el mensaje, el tema, el vocabulario y la formulation. El proverbio se vuelve especifico y exclusivo de la cultura judia. Por ejemplo: Desbanaivos, madré que no vino padre (BA 145) Esta es una adaptation del espanol: Tiraos, padre, y pasarse a mi madré (C&B 2613) La palabra "banyo" en jaqueda tiene dos significados: bano publico y miqmh, el bano ritual. A una mujer casada no le esta permitido tener relaciones intimas con su marido antes de su purification en el miqweh (banyo), conforme al câlculo de su ciclo mensual. La situation textual del proverbio implica un mensaje de la hija a la madré (posiblemente) diciéndole que no dene sentido prepararse, dado que su marido (el padre) no 11egará. Se trata más bien de un mensaje intimo poco probable para ser dicho por un hijo a la madré. Incluso para una hija no es usual, aunque conversaciones intiEsta segunda parte ha sido preparada y presentada por Tamar Alexander.

mas entre madré e hija exisdan en la sociedad tradicional, pero usualmente solo unidireccionales. La madré aconsejaria a su hija y no viceversa. N o es claro si la hija simpadza con la desilusiôn de su madré ο bien si la ridiculiza. E n cualquier caso, por boca una hija, ese dicho está altamente cargado de emociôn. El proverbio original hispano dene una estructura similar y contiene caracteres familiares paralelos: padre, madré y el portavoz, que es la hija ο el hijo. Pero contrariamente al proverbio jaquético, en el proverbio hispano los roles están inverddos. El portavoz se dirige al padre, no a la madré. Contrariamente a la esposa del proverbio jaquédco, quien se prépara para su marido, el proverbio hispano implica una relaciôn hostil y tensa entre la pareja, incluso entre el hijo ο la hija y el padre. Podria ser que este proverbio esté conectado con el dpo narrarivo "Belfagor" (AT 1164),4 en el que la mujer es tan terrible que el propio diablo, su marido, le teme, y el hijo ahuyenta a su padre diciéndole que su esposa se aproxima. E n cualquier caso, éste es un ejemplo en el cual la situation temádca textual del proverbio adaptado es especifica y ûnica de la cultura judia, y solo puede ser entendida si se conocen los preceptos maritales judios. El mensaje del proverbio podria ser aún más general: podria indicar también cualquier expectadva dudosa para una cita (en negocios, etc.). 2. E n la categoria opuesta del proceso de adaptaciôn hay proverbios con tema y mensaje universal, los cuales transmigran de cultura a cultura con solo minimos cambios. Por ejemplo: Quien madruga el Dio le ayuda (BA 471)

E n espanol: Quien madruga Dios le ayuda (M 1268)

Si bien el proverbio trata de Dios, es usado sin cambios en dos religiones diferentes. La única diferencia está en la formulaciôn del nombre de Dios. La expresiôn "el Dio," en lugar de Dios, es dpica del lenguaje jaquético y es usado principalmente por las mujeres. Indica intimidad y acercamiento y va en singular. E n ambos casos, el mensaje, el tema, la formulaciôn y el vocabulario son idénticos. Dios ayuda a quien se levanta temprano. El proceso de adaptaciôn se expresa sobre todo en el hecho de haber seleccionado y elegido este proverbio de un repertorio hispânico general para incluirlo en la tradiciôn jaquética. a) La mayoria de los proverbios se encuentran en una categoria media, es decir, se transforman y pasan por variados grados de adaptaciôn cultural y lingüistica. Ofrecemos dos ejemplos para mostrar los cambios ideolôgicos, lingüisticos y de género. El proverbio hispano dice: Aljudio dadle un palmo y tomarà cuatro (C&B 1976)

El tema de este proverbio expresa el estereotipo negativo del judio, como codicioso y avaro. Naturalmente, tal como está es inaceptable en la cultura judia. El proverbio jaquético paralelo dice: 4

Cf. Aarne & T h o m s o n 1973.

Da un palmo al perro tomarà cuatro (ΒΑ 123)

El término "judio" es cambiado por "perro." El tema es diferente, el mensaje es el mismo: que algunas personas nunca estarán sausfechas con lo que les es dado, y tratarán de tomar cuatro veces más. El uso de la palabra "perro" dentro del grupo jaquético, es extremadamente negativo. E n este sentido se retiene la connotaciôn del término "judio" en el proverbio hispânico. La diferencia sintáctica también émana de la misma razôn: en la version espanola se trata especificamente del judio, y lo pone en evidencia mediante la transposition de la palabra al principio de la oration. El refrán jaquético, en cambio, utiliza "perro" c o m o metâfora de cualquier individuo indeseable. E n este contexto no cabia ordenar las partes de la frase a la manera de *"Al perro dadle un palmo..." b) C o m o las palabras hebreas forman uno de los principales componentes de las lenguas judias, un cambio lingüistico comûn consiste en sustituir palabras del castellano por équivalentes hebreas, como en el siguiente proverbio: Fortuna te de Dios, hijo, que el saber poco te basta (o te vale) (C&B 3366) E n jaquetia: Buen Ma%a! tengas hija que el saber poco te apresta (BA 56)

E n lugar de "fortuna" tenemos mayal que significa lo mismo. Pero usar el término hebreo agrega connotaciones interculturales. E n judeo-espanol en general, no solo en jaquetia, mayal es la palabra hebrea más frecuentemente utilizada en los proverbios. Es usada principalmente por la mujer y además de "fortuna" ο "suerte," significa también "buen marido." De este modo, dirigirse a una mujer joven con este proverbio, significa desearle un buen matrimonio. Este significado no está relacionado con el espanol "fortuna." O t r o cambio interesante entre estos dos proverbios es el cambio de género. La aposiciôn binaria en el proverbio jaquético es entre matrimonio y conocimiento (education). Es muy comûn aconsejar a una mujer joven en la sociedad traditional que atienda a su marido y no a su education: una mujer educada no encontrarà marido fâcilmente. Al hombre, en cambio, no se le anima a no aprender. El contraste en el proverbio hispano original es diferente: "fortuna," en general, queda opuesto a education y conocimiento; es decir, el destino y las fuerzas supernaturales son mas fuertes que los logros humanos. El cambio lingüistico del espanol al hebreo permite el cambio de género. 4. El ultimo tipo de adaptation del que vamos a mencionar un ejemplo es el que ocurre en el estrecho circulo individualista. El cambio es creado por el individuo que usa el proverbio. El proverbio hispano "El mal de milano, las alas quebradas y el papo sano" (C&B 2105) présenta una estructura triple y trata de una enfermedad. El sujeto del proverbio (hombre ο pàjaro) está enfermo y dolorido (sus alas están quebradas) pero su estômago no está afectado. El proverbio paralelo aparece asi en la colecciôn jaquética de Benazeraf.

El mal de milano (= un hombre perverso) y el papo sano (BA 189). El cambio está en la estructura, dos partes en lugar de très. El omitir la descripciôn de las alas quebradas, hace el mensaje del proverbio más moderado y general. N o puede ser aplicado a pàjaros y claramente se refiere al dominio humano. E n la colecciôn de Anita Levy, encontramos una version diferente: "El mal de Milano (M mayûscula) y el papa sano." Levy entendiô la palabra Milano como el nombre de la ciudad y una especie de enfermedad. Ella cambia la palabra " p a p o " (estômago) por "papa" (el Papa). Ahora tenemos un mensaje completamente diferente relacionado con la gente de Milano (o cualquier otro lugar), quienes están sufriendo mientras el Papa (o cualquier otra personalidad) está a salvo e indiferente. La diferencia entre los dos proverbios jaquéticos indica creatividad individual.

Conclusion El proceso de adaptaciôn, que transluce en diferentes niveles de "jaquetizaciôn" de proverbios espafioles o de "hispanizaciôn" de refranes jaquéticos, es también un proceso de reaction a diferentes niveles: nacional, colectivo e individual. La interrelation cultural, compuesta por procesos opuestos de integraciôn y segregaciôn (Barth 1969), permiten al grupo définir sus propios limites étnicos y a expresarse en su propia y exclusiva tradiciôn folklôrica.

Bibliografia Aarne A .& Thomson, S. 1973. The Types of the Folktale. Helsinki: F. F. C, 184. Barth, F. 19692 Ethnie Groups and Bounderies. The Social Organisation of Culture Differences. London: George Allen and Unwin. Benazeraf, R. 1978. Refranero: Recueil de Proverbes Jude'o-Espagnols du Maroc. Madrid: Raphael Benazeraf. Bentolila, Y. (en prensa). "Le processus d'hispanisation de la Hakétiya à la lumière de quelques sources littéraires." En Les Langues Juives: de Quelques Thématiques Transversales, Actes du colloque organisé par le Centre de Recherche Français de Jérusalem (2—4 janvier 1996). Maldonado, F. C. R. 1974. Refranero clàsico espanol. Madrid: Taurus ediciones. Campos, J. G. y Barella, A. 1995. Diccionario de refranes. Madrid: Espasa Calpe. Von-Sydow, C. W. 1965. "Folktale Studies and Filology—Some Points of View." En The Study of Folklore. Ed. A. Dundes, New York: Prentice-Hall. 219-243.

E N T R E LA ACEPTACIÔN Y EL RECHAZO LA PRESENCIA JUDIA EN O R Â N , 1 5 8 9 - 1 6 3 9 BEATRIZ ALONSO ACERO C S I C , M a d r i d , Spain

La presencia de judios en Oràn desde su conquista por Espana en 1509 y hasta 1669 es muy significativa respecto a la importancia que se otorga a este reducido nùcleo de poblaciôn en dicha ciudad de Berberia. E n un m o m e n t o en que esta presencia está ya vedada en Espana, serán tan solo algunos enclaves muy concretos de los que forman parte de la Monarquia Hispánica entre 1589 y 1639— àmbito cronolôgico en el que se centra nuestro estudio—los que, a pesar de las medidas adoptadas por los Reyes Catôlicos en 1492, estén autorizados a permitir la presencia de judios en su interior. Siguiendo a J. Israel, en el norte de Africa, Oràn, Ceuta, Larache, Tánger y Mazagán conservan, durante buena parte del siglo XVII, nûcleos de poblaciôn hebrea. 1 El estudio de la presencia judia en O r à n en el periodo propuesto pretende contribuir a fundamentar la relevancia del Judaismo en las relaciones entre Cristiandad e Islam en el m u n d o mediterrán e o d e los siglos XVI y XVII.

E n Oràn, el mayor peso especifico lo tendrán, hasta finales del siglo XV, los herederos de los primeros judios que empezaron a habitar en el norte de Africa, allà por el siglo X a.C. Mientras, los llegados tras el edicto del rey Sisebuto en el ano 613—que obligaba a los judios peninsulares a elegir entre la conversion ο la expulsion—asi c o m o tras las persecuciones de 1391 en diversas zonas de Andalucia y'Levante y tras la definitiva expulsion de 1492, aun reforzando de manera relevante el numéro de hebreos, ejercieron mayor influencia por su valia intelectual que por su magnitud cuandtariva. La comunidad judia oranesa fue expulsada tras la conquista de la plaza, dispersândose por ciudades vecinas c o m o Tremecén, Mostaganem y Honein. Sin embargo, tan solo très anos después, el 30 de enero de 1512, Fernando el Catôlico otorga una cédula al gobernador de Oràn y Mazalquivir, 2 D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba, autorizando a los judios ape‫ש‬dados Cansino y Bensemerro a vivir en Oràn, uniéndose a Rubi Satorra, que habia quedado c o m o intérprete de árabe desde 1509. 3 A partir de este mom e n t o se puede hablar de juderia propiamente dicha en el O r à n cristiano, muy 1

2

‫נ‬

Israel, J. 1994. "The Jews of Spanish Oran and their Expulsion in 1669." Mediterranean Historical Review 9, 2, 235-255. A partir de 1669 solo hay poblaciôn hebrea dentro de las plazas espanolas de Berberia, en Ceuta y Larache. Orân y Mazalquivir, distantes entre si apenas una légua, se convierten, desde sus respecdvas conquistas (1509 y 1505), en plazas que comparten un ûnico destino, además de un mismo gobierno y administraciôn. Por esta razôn, hay que referirse a ellos como "doble presidio." A(rchiv0) H(istôrico) N(acional). Estado, Leg. 1.749, s.f. / 23 sepdembre 1668. Carta del marqués de los Vêlez, gobernador de Orân y Mazalquivir, a la regente D* Mariana de Austria, cit. por Caro Baroja, J. 1978. Las judios en ta Espana modernay contemporanea. Vol. I. Madrid: Istmo, 231.

prôxima a la alcazaba, y separada del resto de la ciudad por un muro con una puerta de acceso que se cerraba por las noches y era custodiada por un oficial cristiano. 4 El cambio en la acdtud de la Corona respecto a la presencia de judios en Oràn debe explicarse por la forma de entrada de Castilla en Berberia: la ocupaciôn restringida del espacio impide el autoabastecimiento de las guarniciones que se desplazan a este presidio, las cuales pronto empiezan a necesitar de unos envios realizados desde Espafia que no siempre es posible efectuar, y que se irán espaciando en el dempo, conforme se agraven las circunstancias econômicas de la Monarquia, y sean más insalvables las dificultades para cruzar un mar cada vez más Ueno de peligros en forma de corso y pirateria. El ûnico recurso para subsistir en medio de un territorio hostil a los intereses crisdanos va a ser, précisamente, relacionarse con él. La inmediata necesidad de entrar en contacto con los musulmanes del entorno y la comprobaciôn de que la mejor manera de lograrlo es a través de los judios que habian vivido en esta plaza y en su alfoz pues, no en vano, algunos eran herederos de los expulsados en 1391 y / o en 1492 y habian venido manteniendo unas estrechas relaciones con la poblaciôn musulmana, son los factores que establecen los origenes de la coexistencia entre Crisdandad, Judaismo e Islam en este enclave norteafricano. Llegados al final del Quinientos, la situaciôn parece haberse agravado tanto en lo que respecta a las relaciones entre judios y crisdanos, que el fantasma de la expulsion está más présente que en cualquier otro momento desde 1512. La historia de la presencia de los judios en Orán alcanza un capitulo especialmente dramâtico.

Entre la aceptaciôn... La razôn que explica la permanencia de un nûcleo judio en Oràn en las décadas postreras del Quinientos y primeras del Seiscientos no es otra que su profunda e intensa colaboraciôn con los espafioles. Funciones y oficios, de un lado, y cooperaciôn financiera, de otro, fijan la ayuda de los judios a los crisdanos espanoles, gracias a la cual consiguieron perpetuarse en Orán manteniendo sus creencias y sus costumbres. Por lo que respecta a las funciones j oficios, los judios realizarán las más diversas tareas, siempre con el propôsito de llegar a converrirse en personas imprescindibles para la condnuidad de la presencia espafiola en este presidio. Si bien estas labores no definen a todo el nûcleo judio que habita en Orán sino tan solo a unas cuantas familias, su validez 1egitimará al conjunto de la presencia hebrea en esta ciudad. Se trata de tareas que, sin ser privativas de los judios oraneses, 5 si son del todo prioritarias y debido a que los judios habian tomado ventaja en su desempeno desde el primer momento, los crisdanos les consideraron durante muchos anos insustituibles en sus comeddos y fundamentales para la pervivencia espafiola en Orân. En las décadas finales del siglo Epalza, M. de y Vilar, J. B. 1988. Pianos y mapas historicos de Argelia (siglos ΧΙΊ-ΧΙ-W). Madrid: ICMA, 138. E n otras plazas espanolas allende el Estrecho, los judios, habitantes o no en ellas, realizaron funciones y oficios de muy semejante cariz. Asi ocurre en Melilla, donde los judios, aun no viviendo en el interior de la plaza, cuando se allegan a ella lo hacen en calidad de mercaderes, espias y traductores. (Salafranca Ortega, J. F. 1995. Historia de la poblaciôn judia de Melilla desde su concjuista por Espana hasta 1936. Malaga: Algazara, 14).

XVI la situation es diferente: aumentan los recelos hacia la realization de estos oficios tan compromeddos por parte de los judios, al dempo que se comprueba que algunos de ellos también puede ser sadsfactoriamente realizados por crisrianos. Asi, el oficio de lengua e intérprete, uno de los más relevantes dadas las caracterîsdcas de Orân como plaza espanola en el norte de Africa, es desempenado en esta época por los Cansino—familia sefardi procedente de Sevilla.6 Isaac Cansino, que realiza este comeddo entre 1558 y 1599, empieza a recibir, desde 1589, un sueldo de 20 escudos mensuales. Pero justo en estos anos es cuando se decide crear un segundo cargo de lengua que, a diferencia del otro, siempre deberá recaer en un cristiano, dado que algunos espanoles ya conocian la lengua árabe con suficiente profundidad como para poderla leer y escribir sin dificultad. El cargo, que dende a recaer en oficiales de la guarniciôn, será servido sin remuneration, ο, en todo caso, con un salario inferior al cobrado por el intérprete judio. 7 Lo que se busca con la creaciôn de este segundo oficio de lengua es contrarrestar la influencia que los judios intérpretes estaban Uegando a tener en el gobierno de Orân y poder confirmar la veracidad de las informaciones que transmidan, impidiéndoles posibles acciones contrarias a los intereses cristianos. Y es que la participation judia en acdvidades tan fundamentales para la condnuidad espanola en Orân como podian ser en la fijaciôn de los precios del grano entregado por los moros de paz y la recogida de las fanegas provocaba todo d p o de recelos, opinândose que estas "cossas de calidad que es justo las träte ombre que tema a dios... porque en ello va la reputacion y buen nombre de las dichas plaças y la seguridad délias." 8 Por el contrario, también habia quien pensaba que la designation de un cristiano, si bien proporcionaria mayor confianza en la legalidad de su actuation, acabaria por llevar a este oficio a personas de menor preparation y recursos. 9 Algo semejante ocurre con respecto a los judios que ejercen como guias en jornadas y como espias: el peligro que puede conllevar dejar en sus manos tareas tan comprometidas hace que se discuta la conveniencia de que en los aiios postreros del siglo XVI sigan siendo los hebreos de Orân los que desempenen estos oficios. Pero, además, los judios endenden que aún pueden ser más irreemplazables si comparten con los espanoles lo que obtienen de sus actividades agricolas, ganaderas y comerciales. Los judios que poseen arados con los que siembran las escasas pero fértiles tierras del alfoz oranés emplean parte del grano obtenido para su venta directa. En ocasiones, dada la precariedad en el abastecimiento de 6

7

8

9

Los Cansino estuvieron al frente de dieho oficio durante más de cien anos, tal y c o m o refiere Jacob Cansino en el prôlogo a su traducciôn de la obra de Almosnino Moses Ben Baruch, Extremosy grande^as de Constantinopla. Madrid, 1638. La patrimonializaciôn del oficio de lengua en la familia Cansino es evidente. El primer intérprete crisdano, el capitán D. Gil Hernandez de Sotomayor sirve el cargo hasta 1612 sin sueldo, lo mismo que su hermano y sucesor, el capitán D. Fernando de Navarrete, hasta 1618, aunque éste recibe una merced de 15 escudos. A(rchivo) G(eneral) de S(imancas). G(uerra) A(nrigua). Leg. 565, s.f. / 17 mayo 1600. Carta de Cristobal de Heredia, veedor, solicitando la provision del cargo de intérprete en un crisdano en vez de en otro judio, a la muerte de Isaac Cansino. AGS. GA. Leg. 586, s.f. / 3 enero 1601. Carta de D. Francisco de Cordoba y Velasco, conde de Alcaudete.

la guarniciôn, este grano era el recurso al que acudir cuando ni lo enviado desde Espana ni lo comprado a los moros de paz era suficiente para alimentär al ejército alli destacado y a sus familiares. Los judios no dudaban en ponerlo a disposiciôn de las autoridades, aunque, eso si, a unos precios realmente elevados en comparaciôn con los que ofrecian los moros de paz. Los judios comerciantes, por su parte, introducen productos que, fuera de las murallas, suelen vender las tribus musulmanas, a las que estos hebreos se los compran. Panos, aceite, cera, plumas y dâtiles, son algunas de las mercancias que hacen llegar a la ciudad, beneficiando con ellos al conjunto de la poblaciôn alli existente y a la propia real Hacienda, al ser gravadas sus transacciones comerciales con el pago de alcabalas. De igual forma, en muchas ocasiones, este tràfico comercial traspasaba los limites de las derras norteafricanas, con lo que muchos de estos productos acababan abasteciendo a la poblaciôn espafiola de la Peninsula. Pero pronto se empieza a cridcar esta actuaciôn comercial de los judios, acusândoles de incrementar los precios, al tiempo que se denuncia la posibilidad de que su gran poderio econômico termine por ahogar las escasas perspectivas de los pequenos mercaderes naturales de las plazas. En lo referente al pago de alcabalas se apreciarian dificultades en el transcurso de los afios, pues, de ser una renta apetecible para la Corona por el montante anual de su valor, pasa, en la década de los anos 30 del siglo XVII, a disminuir significadvamente, observândose fraudes al respecto por parte de los judios en el pago de las mismas. La realization de todas estas acdvidades supuso la posibilidad—para algunos de estos judios—de amasar importantes fortunas. Ellos, conscientes de la preeminencia social que la posesiôn de dinero les otorgaba, no dudaron en emplear una parte en beneficio de aquellos mecanismos de actuaciôn necesitados de un importante capital para su adecuado funcionamiento. Asi, los judios oraneses se consolidan en las primeras décadas del siglo XVII c o m o los duenos por excelencia de los esclavos musulmanes. Aparte del beneficio que significaba la compra de estos esclavos, gracias a las relaciones entre los judios y sus esclavos era posible acceder a informaciones con respecto a posibles nuevos ataques a moros de guerra, a través de las confesiones que los esclavos les hacen de forma más o menos voluntaria. 10 De la misma forma, los judios se afirman como figuras relevantes en el rescate de crisdanos caudvos en Argel. La labor mediadora de los hebreos en las relaciones entre crisdanos y musulmanes, unida a los frecuentes contactos de estos judios con las regencias berberiscas prôximas a Orán, favorecen su participation en misiones tan principales y arriesgadas como la de llevar a Argel el dinero que hará posible dichos rescates." Por lo que respecta a la coopérationfinanciera, si bien ésta es una funciôn restringida a muy pocas de las familias judias habitantes en Oràn, su importancia contribuyô a fundamentar la pervivencia hebrea en esta plaza. Si tenemos en cuenta los entretenimientos y sueldos cobrados por servicio al rey, son las familias Cansino y Saportas las que obtienen beneficios más altos, del orden de los 1.104 escudos anuales para la primera y de 794 escudos para la segunda, en 10 11

AGS. GA. Leg. 518, fol. 5 / 8 abril 1598. I(nstituto) V(alencia) de D(on) J(uan). Envio 85, fol. 18 / s.a. Memorial de Jacob Cansino.

1627, mientras que de todo el resto de judios habitantes en Orân, solo otras dos familias, la de David Maque y la de Joseph H o b o , cobran entretenimientos que no llegan cada ano ni al 10% de lo que ganan los Cansino y los Saportas en ese mismo afio. 12 Estas familias que consiguieron un elevado nivel de rentas, ejercieron un papel decisivo en el mantenimiento del doble presidio. Y lo hicieron en su vertiente financiera, como prestamistas de aquellas cantidades de dinero que no eran remiddas de Espana con suficiente diligentia y volumen como para satis facer las necesidades más perentorias de la ciudad y, en especial, de su guarniciôn, obteniendo a cambio sustanciosos aumentos en los entretenimientos de los que ya disfrutan o, incluso, accediendo a plazas en el propio ejército c o m o recompensa a su actitud. Dada la precariedad economica de las plazas, referencia directa de lo que ocurna con la real Hacienda, los gobernadores solian encontrarse con muchas dificultades en el m o m e n t o de tener que devolver los préstamos a los judios. Aunque desde Espana se procurase hacer efectiva la recuperation de este dinero, procediendo a consignar determinadas cantidades para pagar estas deudas contraidas con los judios de Orân, la imposibilidad de llevar esto a feliz término hacia temer que los judios no volvieran a colaborar en el sustentamiento de la gente de guerra. Con el paso de los anos, 11egará un momento en que estos judios no puedan seguir socorriendo las necesidades financieras de las plazas, 13 ante lo cual los gobernadores se vieron obligados a tomar medidas tendentes a conminar a los judios a prestar su dinero. 14 La situation economica del doble presidio, especialmente deteriorada en los anos 20 y 30 del Seiscientos, convertirà la voluntad prestamista de los judios en una obligation includible.

... y el rechazo El rechazo cristiano a los judios de Orân encuentra en el incremento demogrâfico hebreo una causa déterminante, de tal forma que este crecimiento marca la historia de los diferentes bandos de expulsion decretados entre 1589-1639. Conforme habia avanzado el siglo XVI, las diez casas de judios autorizadas en Orân por Carlos V en 1534 habian ido creciendo, si bien siempre de forma débil, a causa del estrecho control mantenido por las autoridades. 15 Llegados a los anos finales del Quinientos, las posturas contrarias a la permanencia hebrea en Orân aún se radicalizan más. E n junio de 1591 es el propio gobernador, D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba, quien ordena la salida de Orân de todos los judios. 16 E n

12 13

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16

B(iblioteca) Z(abá1bun1). Carpeta n° 256, fol. 75 r.-v. / 10 febrero 1627. E n 1625, el Consejo recibe la informaciôn de c o m o se ha pedido dinero a Yaho Saportas para hacer la provision de grano "y ha respondido que no lo dene." (AGS. GA. Leg. 912, s.f. / 2 agosto 1625. Consulta del Consejo) BZ. Carpeta n° 256, fols. 32 r.-33 r . / 8 enero 1626. Copia de carta de D. Antonio Sancho Dàvila a Olivares. AGS. GA. Leg. 514, fol. 19/ 1598. Traslado de cédula real otorgada por Carlos V al conde de Alcaudete, gobernador, el 4 de junio de 1534. AGS. G A. Leg. 514, fol. 19 / 1598. Traslado del original del bando de expulsion decretado por D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba el 13 de julio de 1591. El gobernador pone en marcha una orden real dada a D. Martin de Côrdoba, que habia desempefiado el cargo de gobernador entre

seguida se estableceria la division entre judios naturales o forasteros segûn hubieran nacido en O r á n — o llevaran más dempo habitando alli—o se hubieran asentado en ella recientemente, division que tuvo una repercusiôn inmediata. E n julio, el gobernador, siguiendo la orden de Felipe II, redime de la expulsion a los judios naturales de Orán. 17 El monarca comprende que su presencia es tan fundamental para la pervivencia de estas plazas en manos espafiolas—por las acdvidades que en ellas desarrollan—que es necesario que siga habiendo un nûcleo judio en Orán, aunque, eso si, nunca demasiado numeroso. Segûn la relaciôn que se hace en este ano, hay un total de 18 casas de judios naturales, que suponen una cifra en torno a las 120-125 personas. A ellos se les va a dejar quedarse, mientras que "los demas judios que ay en la çiudad demas de los contenidos y sefialados en la dicha informaçion dentro del denpo en el dicho vando contenido... salgan destas plaças y no se esten en ellas." 18 E n 1598, ya durante el gobierno de D. Francisco de Côrdoba y Velasco, conde de Alcaudete, resurge con fuerza la idea de la expulsion. El regidor de Orán, Tomâs de Contreras, se dirige a Madrid, donde, en nombre del cabildo, solicitada a Felipe II una cédula por la cual "no aya en aquella ciudad tanto numero de judios como de présente ay mandandolos echar de alli sin dejar mas cassas de las que V.M. dene mandado aya." 19 Contreras pide la reduction de esas 18 casas de judios naturales contenidas en la relaciôn de 1591, a las 10 que ya Carlos V fijara en 1534. Además, el regidor exponia la necesidad de reducir el margen de actuaciôn de los judios que se quedaran, a los cuales se les deberia prohibir tratar y contratar bastimentos, tanto de los moros de paz, como de los que llegan de Espana, asi como impedir que compraran esclavos blancos o negros. El 25 de enero aparece—firmada por el principe Felipe, en nombre de su padre Felipe II—la cédula real por la cual se décréta dicha expulsion. 20 La orden muestra como las razones aducidas por Contreras para la expulsion fueron especialmente tenidas en cuenta en la cédula real, prohibiéndose desde aquel momento a los judios la realization de esas dos actividades, en las que esta minoria habia desempenado un papel decisivo en el àmbito oranés. E n el bando de expulsion se especifica con rotundidad la obligation de salir de la ciudad a todos y cada uno de los judios "vezinos estantes y abitantes en esta diçha çiudad dentro de noventa dias primeros siguientes de la publicaçion deste auto," 21 a exception de aquellos que vivan en diez casas, "numéro que su magestad tiene mandado y permitido abiten en esta çiudad." 22 Sin embargo, para poder realizar con todas las garantias lo expresado en este decreto, era necesario saber de antemano quiénes y cuàntos eran los judios que vivian en Orân. Por ello, se encarga a Isaac

17 18 19 20 21

22

1575-1580 y 1581-1585, y que en su m o m e n t o n o se habia cumplido (AGS. G A . Leg. 324, fol. 227 / 29 agosto 1591. Carta de D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba). AGS. GA. Leg. 324, fol. 233 / 26 julio 1591. AGS. GA. Leg. 324, fol. 233 / 8 agosto 1591. AGS. GA. Leg. 534, fol. 4 0 / 1 4 enero 1598. AGS. GA. Libros de registro, n° 78, fol. 88 r - v / 25 enero 1598. AGS. G A . Leg. 514, fol. 20 / 24 marzo 1598. Bando de expulsion firmado por D. Francisco de Côrdoba y Velasco. Estas palabras del conde de Alcaudete demuestran cômo Felipe II acatô la cédula real de Carlos V en 1534, por la cual se establecia que el numéro de casas judias en O r â n debia ser de 10.

Cansino una lista en la que debian figurar tanto los nuevos asentados—explicando si su reciente entrada en Orân se debia a un casamiento ό a qué otra eausa—como los naturales y los avecindados desde antiguo. 23 18 casas formaban la juderia oranesa, cifra idéndca a la que la Corona habia permitido en 1591. Según la relation del intérprete, el total de habitantes judios en Orân en junio de 1598 estaria en torno a los 70, de entre los cuales unos 40 serian antiguos y unos 30 avecindados después "que no es numéro considerable en ningun caso." 24 Con ello se observa como, aun habiendo en 1598 el mismo numéro de casas que en 1591, la cifra de judios habia disminuido sensiblemente. ,:Se trata, por tanto, de cifras reaies, ο estamos ante la ocultaciôn consciente de miembros de la comunidad judia por parte de Isaac Cansino, para rebajar la importancia cuantitativa del nùcleo hebreo de Orân? Muerto Felipe II, es su hijo quien, en febrero de 1599, revoca la orden de expulsion, 25 con lo que todos los judios referidos en la lista de Cansino podian seguir viviendo en Orân, y asi lo hicieron. Lo que no parece es que se cumpliera respecto a ellos la voluntad expresada por Felipe III con relation al respeto y buen trato que para con ellos debian mostrar los crisuanos: en julio de 1605, el monarca ordena al gobernador D. Juan Ramirez de G u z m á n que haga cumplir en la ciudad lo expresado en la cédula de 1599, intentando hacer realidad el propôsito de que los judios sean tratados con absoluta igualdad en relation con el resto de habitantes de las plazas. 26 E n 1611, el bando de D. Felipe Ramirez de Arellano senala que desde 1599 ha crecido de forma importante el numéro de casas existentes y el de judios avecindados, hecho que considéra que "demas de contrabenir a la boluntad de S. M. esta esta çiudad ocupada de gente ynutil y sin provecho." 2 7 Para aquellos judios que han llegado a la ciudad desde entonces, aunque haya sido al casar con alguna mujer perteneciente a alguna de las dieciocho casas permitidas, se décréta la expulsion en un plazo màximo de très meses. De entre los judios naturales ninguno podria entrar ni salir de la ciudad sin permiso previo del gobernador, ni podrân comprar casa—ni ningun cristiano vendérsela—sin antes darle cuenta de ello. E n 1613 se le pide al gobernador que "avise que numéro de casas de judios ay alli y con que numéro de gente cada una." 28 El total recoge diecinueve casas, tan solo una más de las permitidas, donde viven hasta 277 judios, lo que supone casi cuatro veces más de los avecindados en 1598. Un testimonio nos lleva a pensar que esto no puede explicarse tan solo por la multiplication de los judios naturales referidos en la lista de 1598: en el memorial de Sebastián de la Fuente, con 40 anos de servicio en Orân, se afirma que, "en todo este dicho tiempo no a visto en la juderia lo que de un ano y medio a esta parte a visto y que es averse 23

24

25 26 27

28

AGS. GA. Leg. 518, fol. 4 / 3 junio 1598. Para una consulta de esta lista vid. Alonso Acero, B. 1997. Orân y Ma^alquivir en la politico norteafricana de Espana, 1589-1639. Tesis doctoral inédita. (Madrid, U. Complutense), 393-4. AGS. GA. Leg. 518, fol. 3 / agosto 1598. D. Mardn de Côrdoba a Felipe II sobre la permanencia de judios en Orân. AGS. GA. Leg. 642, s.f. / 1605. A G S . G A . Leg. 708, s . f . / 1605. AGS. G A . Leg. 786, s.f. / 10 agosto 1613. Traslado del bando del conde de Aguilar, con fecha 14 de enero de 1611. AGS. GA. Leg. 786, s.f. / 10 agosto 1613. Cf. Alonso Acero 1997: 398.

venido a la dicha juderia mas de ciento cinquenta vecinos judios a vivir en ella no aviendo visto en todo este dempo mas de treinta casas en ella."29 Este testimonio confirma la idea de que lo que provoca el incremento en las cifras es, más bien, la llegada de numerosos judios—desde comienzos de 1612—que, dado que no pueden crear sus propias casas—en el senddo de familias—son acogidos por los titulares de casas ya existentes, consdtuyendo el conjunto de judios que la lista de agosto de 1613 recoge, pero sin dar nombres y apellidos, siendo posible que muchos de ellos no fueran familiares de aquellos que les acogieron. Esto demuestra la escasa valia prácdca de las medidas adoptadas por el gobierno de Orân en 1611, pues aunque se controlaba a los judios andguos para que no entraran ni salieran de la ciudad sin permiso, y para que no compraran nuevas casas sin dar cuenta de ello, seguian entrando nuevos judios y en altas cantidades. El crecimiento en las décadas preliminares a la definitiva expulsion de 1669 no parece deberse a nuevas oleadas de judios que entran en Orân, sino al matrimonio de los existentes con otros que vienen de fuera. 30 Por lo que a la inasimilaäön se refiere, eran numerosos los problemas en la relation con la comunidad hebrea, tanto con aquellos miembros de cuya presencia a priori no se podian obtener los beneficios por los cuales se toleraba a este grupo en Orân, como con aquellos otros que desempenaban las relevantes funciones que justificaban la continuidad de los judios en estas latitudes. A los primeros, se les consideraba poblaciôn ociosa, directamente implicada en los problemas de vivienda que el crecimiento demogrâfico de esta comunidad traia consigo. A los segundos, se les recriminaban los desôrdenes, excesos y abusos que cometian en las actividades que realizan. A unos y a otros se les engloba bajo el calificativo de gente non grata por la inasimilaciôn existente hacia una lengua, unas costumbres, y sobre todo, hacia una religion y una cultura diferentes.31 C o m o se ha visto, cada una de las relevantes funciones desempenadas por los judios oraneses tenia alguna vertiente que se convertia en objeto de critica para los cristianos. Pero lo que está latente por debajo de estas criticas y quejas es más bien la falta previa de aceptaciôn de unas formas culturales y religiosas diferentes, que se traducen en unos métodos de actuation muy distintos a los que el cristiano concibe como adecuados, siempre dentro de la debida ortodoxia. Ese rechazo preexistente, heredero de la escasa asimilaciôn judia en los territorios peninsulares previa a los acontecimientos de 1492, está en la base de tantos testimonios contrarios a la actuation de la comunidad hebrea en Orân, en cualquiera de sus vertientes. A las muestras de rechazo manifestadas por vecinos y soldados, hay que unir la voluntad de algunos gobernadores y eclesiâsticos también contrarios a la continuidad judia en Orân. E n el caso de los primeros, la norma general muestra a estas autoridades persuadidas a seguir las directrices de protection que marca la Corona con relation a esta comunidad. Mas el juicio contrario a la permanencia de los judios en Orân también es posible oirlo en boca de más de uno de estos gobernadores: de ellos—y no de la Corona—tien-

29 30 31

AGS. GA. Leg. 785, s.f./ 19 abril 1613. Memorial de Sebastian de la Fuente. AGS. G A. Leg. 887, s.f. / abril 1622. Carta de D. Juan Manrique de Cardenas. Cardaillae, L. 1979. Moriscosy cristianos, un enfrentamientopolémico (1492-1640). Madrid: F.C.E. 53.

de a partir la iniciadva que supone la promulgaciôn de bandos de expulsion para este nûcleo hebreo y ellos suelen ser los que más alertan a la Corona de los peligros derivados de la conunuidad judia en Orân. Por su parte, cuando la Iglesia se pronuncia respecto al tema de los judios, también intenta apoyarse en los inconvenientes que resultan de su convivencia con los crisdanos de la plaza. A pesar de la transigencia mostrada para con los judios de Orân durante más de un siglo,32 el deseo de acentuar la vigilancia respecto a esta comunidad y la practica de sus creencias, hace posible que, en 1628, el comisario de la Inquisiciôn en Orân sea enviado a la juderia para "saber si entre los hebreos que residen en dicha çiudad havia algunos libros que llaman el talmud." 33 Los ataques a los pilares del judaismo se generalizan, tanto en lo relativo a la practica pûblica de la religion—en la sinagoga—como en lo referente a la lectura privada del libro sagrado, persiguiéndose de forma especial la posible difusiôn de las doctrinas hebreas entre la poblaciôn cristiana de Orân. Los judios encontrarân en la Corona—siempre guiada por las recomendaciones previas del Consejo de Guerra—a su principal valedor. Aunque, al final, la decision de su expulsion definitiva procéda de ella, como no cabia otra opciôn, durante todo el siglo XVI y casi setenta aiïos del siglo X V I I , si los judios se perpetûan en Orân a pesar de todas las dificultades que se les plantean, lo deben a la protecciôn que reciben desde Madrid: desde Fernando el Catôlico hasta Felipe IV, todos los monarcas conocen suficientemente la importancia de la labor desempenada por los judios en Orân, amén de los beneficios que de sus acdvidades reciben la poblaciôn espafiola de la Peninsula y las propias areas reales. Por ello, la Corona protege y defiende a estos judios, y aunque se mantiene firme en su deseo de impedir que su nûmero se desborde, les alienta para que sigan colaborando en el mantenimiento de una plaza en la que la precariedad de la real Hacienda impide actuar en su debida medida. Y cuando la situaciôn se torne más oscura para los hebreos, la Corona también reacciona con la suficiente presteza para impedir que se prolonguen en demasia comportamientos claramente ofensivos, c o m o ocurre con D. Juan Manrique de Cárdenas, uno de los gobernadores más contrarios a la poblaciôn hebrea de Orân a quien Felipe IV dirige, en junio de 1623, una carta en la que ni una sola linea deja de expresar el amparo de la Corona a los judios de Orân. 34 Aunque las ôrdenes protegen de forma especial a las familias Cansino y Saportas, Felipe IV extiende su amparo al conjunto de los judios oraneses, no admitiendo ninguno de los procedimientos empleados por el gobernador para su control y vigilancia. Sin embargo, a estas alturas del Seiscientos, la protecciôn a los hebreos resultaba insuficiente frente a una posibilidad de convivencia ya desechada para la Espana peninsular desde 1492. Tan solo treinta anos después, en 1669, durante la regen-

32

33

34

Segûn D. Martin de Côrdoba, ni Carlos V ni Felipe II habian permiddo que el Santo Oficio se entromedera con los judios de Orân, hecho por el cual se congratulaba el ex-gobernador de las plazas. (AGS. G A . Leg. 518, fol. 5 / a g o s t o 1598). A H N . Inquisiciôn. Leg. 2022 / 45, fol. l r / Ano 1628. Causas presentadas ante el tribunal del Santo Oficio de Murcia. A H N . Codices, Libro n° 1384, fols. 223v-224r / Madrid, 9 junio 1623. Felipe IV a D. Juan Manrique de Cárdenas.

cia de Mariana de Austria, los judios serian definirivamente expulsados: el precario equilibrio de fuerzas favorables y contrarias a la continuidad de la presencia judia en Orân acaba por inclinarse del lado del rechazo y los judios son obligados a salir del territorio en el que habian habitado durante varias generaciones, cerrando asi un importante episodio de la presencia judia en un enclave espanol después de 1492. Mas, de manera muy significariva, se volverà a permitir la entrada de judios en Orân en 1734, después de que la plaza sea de nuevo tomada por Espana en 1732.

T H E R O L E OF J U D E O - S P A N I S H IN T H E FRAMEWORK OF T H E T U R K I S H J E W I S H COLLECTIVE IDENTITY MARY ALTABEV Hove, Uk

Abstract This paper aims to interpret the relationship between Judeo-Spanish and the Turkish Jewish collecdve idendty. It will focus on language as one of the salient components of the Turkish Jews' social identity, bearing in mind that it is only one of the features among several group-identity markers such as nation, ethnicity, gender, age, and not necessarily linked directly to group identity. After a brief description of the study's theoretical and methodological framework, I go on to discuss the language(s) included in the Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire, and in particular, the role of Judeo-Spanish in the construction of their collective identity.

Theory & Methodology T h e aim of the research was to record and analyse evaluations of Judeo-Spanish by the speech community members themselves. I follow Cohen's (1985) and Gumperz's (1982) theories of community and ethnicity. They both focus on the individual who "acquires culture" through her/his experience in the community, giving h e r / h i m the c o m m o n denominator for interpreting the meaning of the shared symbols (Gumperz 1982). As in Street's cultural paradigm, the important thing is not what community is but what it does (Street 1993: 25). T o rephrase and apply it to the particular case of the Turkish Jews, one can have different ethnicities: a Sephardic Jew, an Arab Jew or an Ashkenazi Jew, can trace one's roots to different localities in the past, but the fact that one lives and, most importandy, socialises in the confines of Istanbul Jewish community makes one share the meaning of certain symbols regardless of the language in use (Gumperz 1972). T h e main method of data gathering was participant observation: "living with and as the people one studies" (Ellen 1984: 23). It was completed during two periods of fieldwork in Istanbul in 1994—95. T h e data also include 69 questionnaires, 41 hours of recorded formal and informal interviews, and verbatim notes of natural conversations. Previous international and Turkish studies and articles from the community newspaper §alom were added to the main data corpus with the purpose of supplementing and cross-checking the fieldwork data. T h e qualitative analysis of the data focused on "what is going o n " and how the Turkish Jews made sense of the erosion of Judeo-Spanish. T h e unit of re-

search is the Turkish Jew, whether or not s / h e speaks Judeo-Spanish. It was considered that the speakers' self-evaluation in a stigmatised language would present difficulties in the sense that: a) some speakers deny or fake only partial knowledge (Watson, 1989); b) since there is not an accepted standard for the language, testing can produce inaccurate results; c) the placement of the "semispeaker" within the speaker/non-speaker spectrum is problematic (Dorian 1978); d) the non-speaker in certain cases, by refusing to learn or to speak the language is the active resistance to Judeo-Spanish's survival.

Turkish Jewish identity The Turkish Jews are mainly of Sephardic descent or mixed with other Eastern Jews who are nearer in life style to them or try to adopt the Sephardic Turkish Jewish life style, and do not present a state of competition. Most think in terms of Sephardic culture as their c o m m o n culture. The number of Ashkenazim within the Turkish Jewish community is not high (estimated at about less than 5% of the total Turkish Jewish population). This study's results suggest that internal differences became apparent, and internal boundaries of otherness were only clear in the presence of the "other." Otherwise, on the whole, internal differences were considered as superficial. Rather than Sephardic or Ashkenazi identity, Jewish identity as a whole was perceived as numerically and culturally threatened and the participants thought that it might at this rate disappear in Turkey. For the Turkish Jews, identity is grounded mainly on the difference between "Jewish" versus "Turkish." And in popular speech "Turkish" includes the Muslim religious component. Although it is never mentioned as such, "Turkish," used on its own, by implication means "Muslim" in general (Akçam 1995; Bora 1995; Lewis 1961). Subsequendy, "non-Muslim" is easily related to the realm of "foreignness." The expression of the boundaries through bigler, "us," and siller, "you" (plural) is a common linguistic strategy used both among Muslims and J e w s — w h o sometimes switch to Judeo-Spanish and use eyos, "them." The attribute of "foreign" is not only given; it is at the same time internalised by the Turkish Jews and reflects itself in their daily behaviour. For example it surfaced in the case of a folklore evening at a Jewish social club. The show was about Jewish history told with the aid of folk songs and dance. Immigration to Israel was described aided by various folk songs and dances related to the communities which arrived at different points of time. In the end, all the cultures, including Palestinian culture was represented. Interestingly there was not one sample of Turkish Jewish or Sephardic folklore sample unless one includes the last song which was a modern Turkish pop song. According to later expianations they had not excluded it on purpose, it just did not occur to them! Other participants pointed out the Eastern folklore samples, saying that they were very similar to the Turkish folklore. I argue that this is indicative of the ambivalence in the Turkish Jewish collective identity. They strive to be included in the Turkish national identity; however, the exclusion is so much a part of their lives that they do not even think of their Turkishness when representing themselves in a cultural show as they do to

other Jewish cultures. Moreover, the participants of this study considered themselves "Orientals" in the sense that they perceived their culture to be almost the same as for example, the Yemenite, Moroccan, Tunisian, Iraqi Jewish culture. So much so, that they did not feel that a separate representation was needed. Following this, the principal assumption of this study is that the Turkish Jewish social identity separates them as a whole, from the mainstream society. This, therefore, requires attention to the concept of "boundaries" and one of the important boundary markers is the Turkish Jews' different linguistic repertoire.

Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire Emancipation during the twentieth century, in the form of full citizenship under the Turkish Republic, presented the Turkish Jews with a legitimate national identity without a direct threat to their religious identity. They adopted the Turkish national language, based on the assumption of integration and social mobility direcdy related to the ideology of a unified nation cemented by a comm o n language. This move was not a difficult one. With the aid of the Alliance's Eurocentric discourse the general belief had already been established that JudeoSpanish was the language of the uneducated Eastern Jew (Rodrigue 1990). French, as the language of high culture and modernity, had already made its way, into both the urban/educated Jewish and Muslim linguistic repertoire through the military and missionary schools which had established themselves in the O t t o m a n Empire towards the end of the eighteenth century (Lewis 1961). The fact that the Eurocentric discourse was internalised by the intellectuals from the broader Muslim society as well as by Jewish society had a double impact on the construction of the Turkish Jewish idendty. Emulation of the Western values became an imperative endorsed both by the nationalist discourse through Turkish, and the elitist discourse through French (Altabev, in press). It is important to underline that the adoption of Turkish did not include the dismissal of French, but only the demise of the already impaired Judeo- Spanish. Thus, Turkish became the everyday communicative tool for the Turkish Jewish community, competing with, and lately overtaking French, as a prestige and modernity marker (Bornes-Varol 1982). Even so, at least in the transition period, which approximately stretches until the late 1950s, the variety of Turkish the Turkish Jews used was considered to be a non-standard Turkish. Today, some of the community members argue that the quality of Turkish used especially by the young generation is equal to the standard Turkish used by the majority. Paradoxically, they also argue that they can identify a community member "as soon as they open their m o u t h " (fieldwork data, 1995), an issue which will be expanded on in the next part of this paper.

Languages as boundary markers The data from the questionnaires show that the Turkish Jews are highly multilingual. A m o n g others, Judeo-Spanish, 1 French and English are the most commonly spoken languages. Although knowledge of Hebrew is regarded as desirable, it is still rare to find members of the community who can speak it fluendy or use it daily even in the private domain of their homes. Turkish is the sole official national language and has been adopted as the main daily language by the Turkish Jews. However, codeswitching and "speaking differendy" is used as an identity marker as well as or instead of Judeo-Spanish as a separate language. The Turkish Jews' constant switching from Turkish into French or JudeoSpanish and recendy to English (by the young generation) became a permanent feature of the Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire, used both for stylistic effect and to substitute for lexical items unknown in Turkish. Both minority and majority speakers use codeswitching into French a n d / o r English depending on the age group, education of the speaker and the speech context. Nevertheless, their evaluation depends on the speakers' additional identity markers such as a different accent, or a non-Muslim name. Whilst codeswitching by a Turkish Muslim may be perceived positively as a sign of modernity, professionalism, the same strategy may be perceived as the non-standard way of speaking Turkish and negatively, by a speaker who belongs to a religious minority. In addition to signalling identity, the choice of language during the process of codeswitching functions as a boundary marker, and as such, it can be a medium for inclusion or exclusion from the social or ethnic group. Even in intragroup situations, the common language, Judeo-Spanish, or the codeswitching from Judeo-Spanish, can create a social boundary of exclusion rather than inclusion. In agreement with Saul's observation, codeswitching from Judeo-Spanish is still a negative element in the Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire in certain speech situations (Saul 1983: 346). Moreover, most participants of this study claimed that they could identify a Turkish Jew from "their way of speaking." They maintained that this was possible whether the speakers used Judeo-Spanish or not, and even if they used standard Turkish. Judeo-Spanish is alleged to be the main influence on the nonstandard speech for various reasons. It is argued that because the Turkish Jews spoke/speak Judeo-Spanish at home, they do not speak standard Turkish. That is, Judeo-Spanish was blamed for the accent which is carried into Turkish. In other words, the speaker's use of different sets of linguistic conventions (conscious or otherwise), such as the tone of voice, pitch, accent, emphases, signal their specific identity (Gumperz 1972). An identity, which according to the participants, carried a negative value in most cases associated with the use of JudeoSpanish and the transfer of its prosodie features into Turkish. Although this was

T h e data gathered from the quesdonnaires of this study indicates that among the 4 1 - 6 0 age group, 100% evaluated themselves as Judeo-Spanish speakers; among the age group 26—40, 79% did so, and among the age group 17—25, 63% did so. T h e community newspaper §alom's 1994 survey shows the propordon of Judeo-Spanish speakers as 90% for the age group 50+, and 56% for the age group 2 0 - 3 5 (Altabev, in press).

denied by some, the fact that I was always presented with the "exceptions who spoke like Muslims" proves in some way that there is a "Jewish way of speaking Turkish" and that this linguistic feature is used as an identity marker. The "accent problem" for some of the participants was important to such an extent that the opposite, that is, a Turkish Jew speaking with a Muslim accent became a source of pride (also Saul 1983: 345). Based on these premises, I suggest that as a result of the marginal identity that Judeo-Spanish reflected in the past, and the secondary position the Sephardie ethnicity is placed in the present day, the Turkish Jewish community is reluctant to use Judeo-Spanish even partially, in the form of codeswitching, or identify with it, at least in public. 2 As a consequence, in addition to codeswitching, what linguistically differendate the Turkish Jews from the Turkish Muslims are some different features of their Turkish speech patterns. In this respect, Judeo-Spanish, as a different linguistic system is not a necessary feature in the current Turkish Jew identity kit. "Speaking [Turkish] Differendy," in comparison to the majority, fulfils the same function of an identity marker. In summary, the Turkish Jews switched first to French as a language of prestige, and later on to Turkish as the national language. The partial switch from Judeo-Spanish to French and then Turkish left residual marks in the linguistic and metalinguistic features of their spoken Turkish. They did, and still, to some extent do "speak Turkish differendy." I have also argued that the Turkish Jewish idendty is marginal because they feel that they are not considered as part of the national majority mainly because of their different religion. T h e difference is apparent in most non-Muslim names, and the non-standard way of speaking Turkish. As a consequence the Turkish Jews distance themselves from the old image of Judeo-Spanish and do not want to identify with it. Although a new and positive image of JudeoSpanish is building up, for the moment the binding agent and the main identity marker of the community has been replaced by their different way of speaking Turkish.

References Akçam, T. 1995. "Hyzla Türklejiyoruz." [We are Turkifying swiftly] Birikim 71-72, 1 7 30. Altabev, M. (in press). " T h e effect of the dominant discourse(s) in the vitality of Judeo-

Spanish in the Turkish social context." Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development.

However, it has to be pointed out that recent socio-historical changes have had some posidve effects on the perception of Judeo-Spanish. T h a t is, recent changes in international and national discursive practices on ethnicity, culture and language have altered the Turkish Jews' views on the value of Judeo-Spanish. Some of the community members have started to mention the value of the language as a heirloom, its practical uses abroad as an international language, and its value in helping learning other Latin based languages.

Bora, T. 1995. "Tiirkiye'de milliyetçilik ve azinkklar." [Nationahsm and minority in Turkey] Birikim 71-72, 34-49. Bornes-Varol, M. C. 1991. Le Judéo-Espagnol vemaculaire d'Istanbul. (Etude linguistique). Thesis presented to the University of Sorbonne, Langues Orientales. Paris: Unpublished. Cohen, A. P. 1985. The Symbolic Construction of Community. London: Roudedge. Ellen, R. 1984. Ethnographic Research. London: Academic Press. Gumperz, J. J. 1972. "Introduction." In Directions in Sociolinguistics. The Ethnography of Communication. Ed. J. J. Gumperz & D. Hymes. New York: Holt, Reinhart and Winston, 1-25. , 1982. Discourse Strategies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lewis, B. 1961. The Emergence of Modern Turkey. London: O x f o r d University Press. Rodrigue, A. 1990. French Jews, Turkish Jews. The Alliance Israélite Universelle and the Politics of the Jewish Schooling in Turkey, 1860-1925. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Saul, M. 1983. "The mother tongue of the polyglot: Cosmopolitanism and nationalism among the Sepharadim of Istanbul." Anthropological Linguistics 25-3, 326—358. Street, Β. V. 1993. "Culture is a Verb: Anthropological aspects of language and cultural process." In Language and Culture. Ed. D. Graddol, L. T h o m p s o n , & M. Byram. Clevedon: BAAL and Multilingual Matters, 23-43. Watson, S. 1989. "Scottish and Irish Gaelic: The giant's bed-fellows." In Investigating Obsolescence. Ed. N. C. Dorian. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 41—61.

A S P E C T O S DEL N E O J U D E O E S P A N O L EN EL ME 'AM LO 'EZ SIR

HAŠIRIM

ROSA ASENJO France

Introduction E n esta comunicaciôn pretendo centrarme en la influencia del francés en el judeoespanol literario de la segunda mitad del siglo XIX, tal y c o m o se refleja en el libro Me'am Lo'e% Sir Halirim (MLSH), haciendo hincapié en ciertos aspectos, fundamentalmente léxicos, que pueden suponer una manifestation extrema de tal influencia.

El MLSH El MLSH, escrito por Hayim Yišhac Šaki en Constantinopla (1898-99) es el ultimo de los libros de la serie del ML, la llamada "enciclopedia popular" del sefardismo (Molho 1945) comenzada por Yacob Juli en el siglo XVIII con el propôsito de comentar los libros de la Biblia utilizando la lengua vernâcula, el judeoespanol. Esta idea básica condnua siendo utilizada en el resto de la serie, pero debe adaptarse a las condiciones de cada momento. E n este sentido, el autor del MLSH comenta e interpréta el Cantar de los Cantares en judeoespanol segûn lo explica en la introduction (6-7) E s ansi que m u c h o s sabios antiguos y m o d e r n o s declaran este libro cada u n o de una manera; [...] E s t o s declaros son escritos, bien entendido, en ίαίόη hacodei, de manera que pueden entenderlo solamente los que son versados en la cencia y en la literatura hebraica; p e r o aqueos de nuestros h e r m a n o s que n o son tanto sabidos ni c o n o c e n la cencia, malgrado todas sus confienza en nuestros antiguos sabios y en sus ideas sobre este libro, quedan muy pensatibles y n o se les aresenta sus corazôn a cuàlo atriuir cada verso y verso de este libro, muy p o c o entendible p o r ellos. E s d u n q u e sobre este e s c o p o que m e determini de declarar este santo libro en la lengua espafiola, lengua conocida por horas p o r la mayor parte de nuestros coreligionarios del Oriente, en un lenguaje coriente y entendible, con el e s c o p o que nuestros queridos h e r m a n o s se hagan una idea más ο m e n o s del espiritu y lo c o n t e n i d o de este santo libro.

Sin embargo, el MLSH es un caso extremo en ambos aspectos (interpretaciôn y lengua utilizada) porque el autor hace uso de las ideas modernas que han llegado a la sociedad traditional judeoespanola en un lenguaje también moderno. Asi, se distingue de las dos etapas anteriores (ML clàsico y M L de transition), en que es una obra más de creation personal que de simple divulgation de fuentes religio-

La transcripciôn sigue las normas dadas por I. M. Hassán en Estudios Sefardies 1, 1978, 147-150.

sas y que utiliza una lengua que refleja el cambio operado en la segunda mitad del siglo XIX. Es en este segundo aspecto en el que me voy a concentrar.

Neojudeoespanol Después de la formation de la koiné en los siglos X V I - X V 1 I y del periodo clàsico castizo del XVIII, el judeoespanol inicia en la segunda mitad del siglo XIX una nueva etapa, que ha sido denominada "neojudeoespanol" por E. Romero (Romero 1992: 23) y "judeofranol" por H. V. Sephiha (entre otros ardculos, Sephiha 1973). Esta etapa se caracteriza por un proceso de rerromanizaciôn de la lengua, debido fundamentalmente a la influencia del francés, ensenado como lengua de prestigio en las escuelas de la Alliance Israélite Universelle abiertas en las principales áreas de asentamiento sefardi a partir de 1860. Si bien el francés impregnará todas las capas sociales, será en la superior donde dejará sentir su peso con más fuerza, tanto en la lengua hablada como en la escrita. E n este ultimo aspecto, el MLSH es una muestra de este nuevo judeo‫־‬ espanol literario. ο

Influencia del francés La influencia del francés, como hemos indicado, se manifiesta ante todo en las ideas que aporta. 2 Un ejemplo en el libro que comento es la implication del autor en las explicaciones que ofrece a través de incisos del dpo: según difimos, según mi poca idea, me pareciô convertible [escoger las ideas] que meparecen mas ra^onables, etc. Este proceso de modernization, sin embargo, no es completo. Asi, para el autor el concepto de asimiladôn, tan en boga en la época, no es el camino para evitar sufrimientos al pueblo judio ni su forma de salvation sino la firmeza en la fe (explication del versiculo 14 del capitulo 2): Y es que el autor de este sir quiso ser romez de pasada a que n o nos vayamos detrás de_la idea yerada de algunos de nuestros coreligionarios, que viendo las persecuciones y los males que están somportando nuestros hermanos en aigunas partes de_la Evropa y pretendiendo que todo esto depende de_la pešgadumbre de nuestros usos y de nuestro culto que nos desparte tanto de_los usos de nuestros contrarios, se imaginan de remediar este negro estado con asemejarnos a ellos en abandonando nuestros usos sagrados y en dando de pasada sobre muchas encomendanzas de nuestra santa religion, y pensan que de esta manera se tiene que alivianar el yugo pesgado y los males de nuestro puebio. Pero debemos saber que esto es una idea muy yerada: no es de esta manera que nuestro pueblo tiene la esperanza de ser delibrado (escapado) de sus ansias, es justamente al contrario. Es en haciendo la veluntad del Criador y conformândomos a todos sus comandos que tenemos la esperanza que se va apiadar de nosotros y va escaparnos de todas nuestras angustias, no es en haciendo contra su veluntad y su ley santa.

Y pone el ejemplo de la zorra y los pescados tornado del Talmud, 3 donde la raposa dice a los peces que si están en peligro en el agua, que salgan de alli y se 2

3

Ver Hassán 1982: 25—44 y Diaz-Mas 1989: 143-53 para una vision general de la influencia del francés en la literatura sefardi. Berajot 61b.

junten con ella y los peces la tratan de loca al tratar de exponerles a un peligro mayor. Y condnùa: Esto es un doctrino del pastor neemán M0šé que todo üempo que por nuestros pecados nos topamos en cativerio sin ningún abrigo y protecciôn, que no nos sonbaigamos detrás de_la vista de nuestros ojos de bušcar a remediar nuestros males con abandonar los usos sagrados de nuestro culto y asemejarnos a nuestros adversarios por series agradables por tener reposo y gozar de vicios de este mundo, que si hacemos ansi, toda nuestra pena será inutil (en baldes) [...], que aunque a_la aparencia parece haber con esto un poco de resfolgo, ma a_la fin del conto es }usto al contrario, y en lugar de obtener de nuestros enemigos sus favor en paga de nuestra asimilaciôn (asemejanza) a sus usos, nos aborecen más mucho y bušcan alejarsen de nosotros y exterminarnos con mucha enemistad, segûn lo estamos viendo en muchas partes de_la Evropa.

La lengua no solo va a servir como vehiculo de introducciôn de ideas, sino que se va a convertir en el ejemplo más claro del proceso de galificaciôn/ rerromanizaciôn del judeoespanol (y en este senudo, a veces es dificil deslindar la frontera entre el francés y otras lenguas românicas que contribuyeron al proceso de formaciôn del judeoespanol, c o m o el italiano o el portugués en menor medida y que trataré más adelante). Estos son algunos ejemplos, que no pretenden ser exhausdvos, en los diferentes niveles lingûisdcos: 1. E n los niveles fonédco y fonolôgico 4 la pronunciation francesa aparece claramente en palabras como atanciôn (fr. attention) o inpardonable (fr. impardonnable). E n cierta medida, el francés también ha contribuido a mantener ciertos rasgos dpicos del judeoespanol, como el yeismo y la consiguiente pérdida de -II-: cabalen'a (fr. cavalerie), maravia (fr. marawe),famia (fr. famille?) o el mantenimiento d e / - : fuye {it. fuir), refusa (fr. refuser). Sin embargo, de otra parte, ha detenido otros com o la metátesis -rd->-dr-, que vacila (recodro/recordo, guadrar/guardar) o el paso de n->m- en los pronombres: mos, que apenas aparece en el texto, frente a nos. 2. E n los niveles morfolôgico y sintâctico, entre otros fenômenos, se tiende a marcar la diferenciaciôn de género en -0/-a (Sephiha 1976: XXXIV): idolatro, ayudo, clasa, sublima·, se usan sufijos como -an%a, que evidentemente exisda en el espafiol medieval, pero que puede verse reforzado por el italiano -an%a y el francés -ance (Stern 1984: 483): abondan^a (fr. abondance, it. abbondan^a), important? (fr. importance, it. importan^à), inoran^a (fr. ignorance, it. ignoran^a); la concordancia de los posesivos se hace con el poseedor. sus fin [de ellos], sus buen giiesmo, en relaciôn con el leur francés, pero también con el sistema de los posesivos en turco; los préstamos verbales, en su mayoria pertenecientes al grupo en -er del francés se incorporan en gran parte al grupo de la primera conjugation: acceptor (fr. accepter), corijar (fr. corriger), encurajar (fr. encourager), posedar (fr. posséder), proposar (fr. U n o de los aspectos más destacados es el desplazamiento acentual hacia la ultima silaba en consonancia con la pronunciaciôn francesa. Aunque el texto original aljamiado no da ningún ripo de indicaciön sobre la colocaciôn del acento, parece evidente que seguiria este proceso, y asi he transcrito determinadas palabras: util, inutil, facil, dificil, esteril (en el texto aparece el plural estri/es, con pérdida de la que séria la vocal tônica en espanol), Asia, Mesopotamia, Biblia, modestia, etc. A este respecto cf. Jerusalmi 1990: 24

proposer), protejar (fr. protéger), repetar (fr. répéter), aunque también las otras dos conjugaciones reciben, en menor medida, préstamos: composer (fr. composer), permeter (fr. permettre), executir (fr. exécuter). El fenômeno más visible séria el de los cambios sufridos en el régimen preposicional de los verbos. Ejemplos: - L a perifrasis de futuro ir a + infwitivo puede aparecer con la preposiciôn, como en espanol, ο sin ella, como en francés aller + infinitivo·. va divor^ar, va guerrear, iba ser. —Aparece el giro en + gerundio (gerundio en espanol):?« abandonando, en lavdndose, en pagândote, en prometiéndole, en saliendo. - O t r o s calcos del régimen preposicional francés: arabiar sobre (fr. enrager sur), recibi sobre mi (fr. recevoir suή, se acercara de mi (fr. s'approcher dé), se permete de (fr. permettre dé), recibi de (fr. recevoir dé), ο los valores de finalidad de por y a + infinitive‫׳‬, por alabar, por consolar, a sostener, etc. 3. En el nivel léxico-semândco, el préstamo de palabras ο expresiones tomadas del francés es el aspecto más destacable en el proceso que estoy comentando. C o m o ya he indicado, en ciertas ocasiones puede ser dificil decidir a qué lengua românica adscribir determinado vocablo, 5 y nos encontramos con algunos relacionados con el espanol anterior a 1492, "arcaismos" del dpo quitar ('dejar, abandonar,' fr. quitter), defender ('prohibir,' fr. defendré), ο con otras lenguas como contente (portugués contente, fr. content) ο el italiano, del que ya he aportado algùn ejemplo, otros pueden ser: cualitá (it. qualità , fr. qualité ), dunque (it. dunque, fr. donc), inteli£en%a (it. intelligent, fr. intelligence), maladia (it. malattia, fr. maladie), malgrado (it. malgrado, fr. malgré), rango (it. rango, fr. rang), raporto (it. rapporte, fr. rapport), senso (it. senso, fr. sens), verso (it. verso, fr. vers), etc. Una pequena lista de galicismos (palabras y expresiones con mayor ο menor grado de integraciôn al sistema del judeoespanol) que aparecen en el texto incluye: avantaje (fr. avantagé), bienfecencia (fr. bienfaisance), curaje (fr. courage), espirituosa (fr. spiritueux), favori^ada (fr. favoriser), malhorosamente (fr. malheureusement), parfumaria (fr. parfumerie), peruca (fr. perruque), promenada (fr. promenade), regretar (fr. regretter), respectar (fr. respecter), a este sujeto (fr. à ce sujet), al punto que (fr. à tel point que), del espanto no sea que (fr. de peur qué), él mismo (fr. lui même, como manera de enfadzar), hacer atanàôn (h. faire attention), otro que (fr. outre qué), por tanto (que) {it. pourtant), etc. E n este ultimo nivel, el autor parece utilizar un neojudeoespanol aún más romanizado, más ennoblecido, más literario en suma, que el usado por el puebio. Por ello, inserta una especie de traduction ο de glosa explicadva a condnuaciôn de ciertos términos que considéra que pueden presentar dificultades de comprensiôn. E n algunas ocasiones es un vocablo hebreo el que aparece glosado en neojudeoespanol: hômer (madera), nebuâ (profedcia), meraguelim (espiones). Pero en su gran mayoria son los galicismos de nueva factura los que necesitan la traduction ο explication correspondiente, bien a través de un término más coloquial en

" O n ne peut toutefois toujours savoir si un trait déterminé est un archaïsme, un emprunt récent ou le produit de la confluence des deux." Sephiha 1974: 176.

judeoespanol o en turco o en turquismos ya hispanizados, bien con el tecnicism o hebreo correspondiente. C o m o ejemplos: i) neojudeoespanol > judeoespanol (las más abundantes) asimilaciôn (asemeanza), hacer alušián (ser romez), conservar (guardar), delivrado (escapado), divonçar (quitar), edificio (casa), ensenarles (embezarles), eternel (de siempre), inutil (en baldes), medicamentos (curas), pretexto (achaque), provis'oria (por horas), relativamente (confrontando), utilidad (provecho), etc. ii) neojudeoespanol > turco esterìl (yabán),^»«/ (yo\iy),frecuentar (yorusear), res'istir (dayanear), etc. iii) neojudeoespanol > hebreo consorte (bat zug), modestia ('anavut), naturel (tibf), population (hamôn ha'am), etc. /

Conclusion C o m o vemos por los ejemplos escogidos, los términos utilizados cubren prácdcamente todas las clases de palabras (sustantivos, adjedvos, verbos, adverbios, etc.) y glosan no solo conceptos religiosos o referentes cultos, sino actividades o situaciones corrientes. Podemos decir que estas glosas, y en general el método repetitivo-perifrâstico que emplea el autor es uno de sus rasgos de estilo, un método que le permite poner de manifiesto su grado de cultura y de modernidad para adecuarse al m o m e n t o que vive a la vez que continua la idea básica del ML.

Bibliografia Diaz-Mas, P. 1989. "Influencias francesas en la literatura sefardi: estado de la cuestiôn."

En Imâgenes de Francia en las letras hispánicas. Ed. F. Lafarga. Barcelona: PPU, 143-53. Hassán, I. M. 1978. "Transcription normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Estudios sefar-

dies 1, 147-50. , 1982. "Vision panorâmica de la literatura sefardi." E n Hispania Judaica II. Ed. J. M. Sola-Solé et al. Barcelona: Puvill, 25-44.

Jerusalmi, I. 1990. From Ottoman Turkish to Ladino. Cincinnati: Ladino Books. Molho, M. 1945. Le Meám-L0e^ encyclopédie populaire du sépharadisme levantin. Salônica: Librairie Molho.

Romero, E. 1992. Ea creation Uteraria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre. Sephiha, H. V. 1973. "Le judéo-fragnol." Ethnopsychologie 2 - 3 , 239-49.

, 1974. "Problématique du judéo-espagnol." Bulletin de la Société Linguistique de Paris 59, 59-189.

, 1976. "Le judéo-fragnol, dernier-né du djudezmo." Bulletin de la Société Linguistique de Paris 71, XXXI-XXXVI. Stem, C. 1984. "The Sephardic Theater of Eastern Europe: Literary and Linguistic Pers-

pectives." Romance Philology 37, 4, 474-85.

MARTIRIO,

ÖENAS DE LA

VIDA

U N FOLLETIN DE SAM LÉVY 1 AMELIA BARQUÍN CSIC, Madrid, Spain Ahora hace cien anos se estaba publicando en Salônica una novela por entregas, ütulada Martirio, cenas de la wda, escrita por Semuel Sa'adi Halevi (o Sam Lévy, c o m o firmaba en sus obras tardias). 2 A continuation me propongo presentar esta novela y destacar someramente algunos de sus aspectos sobresalientes, que serán objeto de estudio más detallad o en la edition del texto que estoy preparando. La novela apareciô en el periôdico La Epoca, semanal a la sazôn, en 52 entregas, que se publicaron entre el 3 de sepdembre de 1897 y el 16 de septiembre de 1898 (durante poco más de un afio, por tanto). 3 Cada entrega ocupa generalmente una página compléta del periôdico y a veces hasta dos, de m o d o que el resultado es una novela de mediana extension. Antes de entrar en más detalles, expongamos brevemente el argumento. E n 1880 el joven médico suizo Ferdinando Laport se casa con la encantadora An^élica Bristol, mimada hija de una familia de la alta sociedad financiera de Constandnopla. Tras un largo y feliz viaje de novios por Europa, el matrimonio se instala en Constandnopla, donde Ferdinando se convierte en reconocido médico de enfermedades nerviosas entre las mujeres de las clases altas. El esposo de una paciente a la que ha conseguido curar con sus terapias hipnôdcas le ofrece un puesto c o m o director del servicio sanitario de la linea férrea en construcciôn en Asia Menor. Una vez alH, empieza el protagonista a practicar una serie de experimentos de magnetismo sobre su esposa sin que ésta lo sepa, expertmentos que acaban por arruinar la salud de la mujer. El doctor es además responsable de la muerte de uno de los trabajadores de la obra, al que ha pretendid o curar sin otros medios que el poder de su mente. Agobiado por los remordimientos que siente por esta muerte, Ferdinando Laport emprende un periplo de varios anos por diversos paises de E u r o p a central y oriental, acompanado de su esposa—cuya salud es cada vez más fràgil—y de sus hijas, tras el cual terminan por establecerse en Salônica. E n esta ciudad Ferdinando se encapricha de Elena, la hermosa sirvienta de una de sus pacientes, y la contrata c o m o gobernanta de su casa. El desprecio de La présente comunicaciôn es el resumen de un trabajo mas extenso que se publicarà en la revista Sefarad. Asi le Uamaremos en adelante. Los numéros correspondientes del periôdico se conservan en la Biblioteca de Estudios Sefardies del Departamento de Estudios Hebraicos y Sefardies del CSIC. Faltan en esta colecciôn la pagina donde se encuentra la entrega 36 y el numéro donde se encuentra la entrega 39. Espero poder completar prôximamente la novela mediante copia procedente de otra colecciôn del periôdico.

Ferdinando y los malos tratos coddianos convierten a An^élica en una sombra de si misma. Ferdinando obtiene a fuerza de golpes y amenazas el permiso de su esposa ante el tribunal religioso para casarse en segundas nupcias con Elena, que en realidad ya la ha suplantado en la casa. Sin embargo, una joven costurera que trabaja para los Laport consigue que su padre y un amigo de la familia Bristol ayuden a An^élica. Estos hacen venir al hermano mayor de An^élica a Salônica y entre los très consiguen rescatar a la mujer y desenmascarar a Ferdinando. El malvado es apresado cuando se dispone a huir con sus hijas y su amante y es condenado a varios anos de prisiôn. An^élica regresa a casa de su familia a Constanrinopla. La novela vio la luz en uno de los ôrganos más longevos e importantes de la prensa sefardi y fue escrita por uno de sus protagonistas más activos. La Epoca (1875-1912) "revista polirica, comercial y literaria," de talante liberal, fue fundada por el patriarca y popular coplero Sa'adi Halevi. Paso por varias etapas en las que fue semanal, bisemanal y diario. Sam Lévy (Salônica 1870-Paris 1959), hijo del fundador, pardcipô desde muy joven en las tareas del periôdico hasta convertirse en redactor jefe y se encargô de la direcciôn tras la muerte de su padre en 1903. Asumiô igualmente la direcciôn del periôdico en francés Journal de Salonique (1885-1910), también fundado por Sa'adi Halevi. Sam coloborô en otros periôdicos sefardies e incluso fundô en 1905 en Zemun (poblaciôn cercana a Belgrado) Le Rayon en francés y El Lucero en judeoespanol, que duraron poco dempo. Después de 1912, tras la anexiôn de Salônica a Grecia, se estableciô primero en Lausana y después en Paris, donde publico de 1920 a 1930 el anuario Guide Sam (un directorio de las empresas industriales y comerciales de Oriente Proximo) y fundô Les Cahiers Séfardis, que vieron la luz entre 1947 y 1949. Ardculista apasionado y de àgil pluma, personaje polemista y controverddo, antisionista ferviente, la figura de Sam Lévy está esperando todavia un estudio monogrâfico que lo situe en el lugar que le corresponde dentro de las letras sefardies. Mientras tanto, sus propias memorias (publicadas en 1961-65 en El Tesoro de los Judios Sefardies) condenen datos de gran interés sobre la época de su juventud, en la que escribiô la novela que nos ocupa. 4 En cuanto a las circunstancias de creaciôn y difusiôn de la novela, conviene destacar algunos hechos relevantes. En primer lugar, Martirio dene el interés de ser una novela original. Hay que recordar aqui que la gran mayoria de las novelas sefardies son traducciones o adaptaciones; tal es la opinion de los invesdgadores que mejor conocen el género, aunque aûn queda por determinar el grado de originalidad de muchas obras. Y es además una de las primeras novelas originales de la literatura judeoespafiola. Sabido es que la narradva moderna es uno de los géneros importados tardiamente entre los sefardies; las primeras novelas en judeoespanol se publicaron a partir de los anos sesenta del siglo pasado. Pues bien, de las consideradas 4

Datos dispersos sobre Lévy y sus empresas se encuentran en Nehama (1978: 756), D u m o n t (1992: 213-14, 218) y Romero (1992). Igualmente en diversos aruculos de los mencionados Cahiers se puede entresacar informaciôn sobre él. Sobre La Época pueden verse G a o n (1965: n° 151) y Molho (1967: 103).

c o m o originales por Romero (1992: 239-244), solo très son anteriores a la de Sam Lévy (publicadas en los anos 1865, 1877 y 1897 respectivamente, esta uldma en segunda edition). La gran mayoria son, efecdvamente, posteriores a 1900. Es de esperar que, con el dempo y ulteriores investigaciones, se aiiadan nuevos dtulos al conjunto de las novelas originales reconocidas hoy como taies y se adelanten fechas con ello, pero seguramente no será necesario recdficar nuestra afirmaciôn de que la novela que nos ocupa es una de las primeras novelas originales en judeoespanol. E n segundo lugar, no nos consta que esta obra fuera publicada con posterioridad como volumen independiente, cosa que si ocurriô con muchos otros follednes sefardies. Esto explicaria que no aparezca en ninguna de las modernas bibliografias de obras en judeoespanol. T a m p o c o se encuentra en fuentes castizas como los catâlogos de la libreria Šáyich de Jerusalén (fundada a fines de siglo pasado y activa al menos hasta 1922), donde se recogen varios centenares de obras sefardies, entre ellas muchas novelas; ni en los anuncios insertos en las novelas ο en los periôdicos que hemos consultado hasta el m o m e n t o en los que se hacia propaganda de otras publicaciones. La novela tampoco aparece mencionada en estudios sobre la literatura sefardi. Creemos, por todo ello, muy probable que no fuera reeditada de m o d o independiente y se encuentre únicamente en las páginas del periôdico. Se trata por otra parte, conviene destacarlo, de una obra no documentada por la critica moderna. Volvamos ahora a la cuesdôn de la originalidad. Para considerar una novela sefardi como original no basta con que aparezca bajo el nombre de un autor sefardi. Muchos ejemplos demuestran que los publicistas no se sentian afectados por las exigencias modernas en materia de autoria. 5 Asi, es frecuente la omisiôn de datos en la publication de folletines (a menudo no se da más que el titulo); en la publication de novelas en formato libro puede aparecer sin más, por ejemplo, el nombre de quien ha traducido ο adaptado la obra sin que se aluda al autor de la fuente ni a la fuente misma. Es necesario, por tanto, determinar el carácter de original ο no de muchas novelas una por una. Martim lleva al final de cada una de sus entregas el nombre de Samuel Sa'adi Halevi e incluso su firma con forma manuscrita cuando el espacio lo permite. Bajo el titulo se lee siempre "romanzo escrito para La Epoca." Esta information por si sola no résulta déterminante. Pero hay otros testimonios en el periôdico que son más significativos, de entre los cuales hemos seleccionado varios. Seis numéros antes de la publication de la novela, Sam Lévy escribe un articulo anunciândola con toda la ilusiôn, pretensiones y temores de un autor novel en lo que no es sino un intento de atraerse la simpatia del lector. El escrito se titula "Cenas de la vida (romanzo nuevo)" y está firmado en Salônica y julio. (...) muchos se meten a escribir, y si todos n o reušen ['denen éxitoj, ellos tapan el camino a los verdaderos, a aqueos que recibieron este oficio c o m o una dádiva de los cielos y que penan, sufren, pelean contra la hambre y lo más de 5

Varios estudios sobre la novela han mostrado los problemas que entrana la cuesdôn (véanse Romero 1993: 180-183 y Barquin 1997: 81-116).

veces son vencidos y desparecen en dejando los parientes en la más profunda mišeria. De estos tristes enjemplos se vieron cada dia en los países los más civiliz ados. Aqui, en Oriente, la vida de escribidor no es tan tragosa, siendo no hubo ainda dinguno que se ocupe de este oficio. N o quero decir que no puede haber muchos mancebos que denen vocaciôn de escribir.... Uno de esos mancebos, por no yir a buscarlo lejos, es el humilde autor de la novela Cenas de la vida, que presentaremos cercamente el pueblo. Desde einco anos la cariera de escribir se presentô al afirmado abajo como el bodre de una mar imensa (...). Me atrevo, sin saber nadar, sin saber navegar, a meter en la agua una barca muy liviana, una cašca de muez , y abandonarla al capricho del viento.... El obraje fue escrito en un espacio de dempo bien corto. N o es por escusar las faltidas que él puede contener que decimos esto. El autor de Cenas delà vida no se hace ninguna ilusiôn ni tiene grandes pretansiones sobre la valor de su primera obra.... Los encorajamientos del pueblo mos van a mostrar se cale yir adelantre ο si cale abandonar por siempre la vida de escribidor por no auntar una víctima de más a un oficio que ya hizo tantas otras. (ano 22, n° 1096,1-2: 9-7—1897). Se trata, pues, de su p r i m e r a novela, a u n q u e s e g u r a m e n t e habia ya t r a d u c i d o ο p a r d e i p a d o en la t r a d u c t i o n de otras p a r a La Epoca. Lévy p r é s e n t a su o b r a c o n la conciencia d e ser u n o de los p i o n e r o s e n u n g é n e r o q u e n o riene tradiciôn en Oriente. M e s y m e d i o d e s p u é s d e este ardeulo, e x a c t a m e n t e en el n u m é r o a n t e r i o r al de la p u b l i c a t i o n de la p r i m e r a entrega d e la novela, l e e m o s o t r o i n t e n t o d e c o n graciarse c o n el lector p o r p a r t e de Lévy en el q u e pide indulgencia p a r a los d e f e c t o s d e la o b r a y ruega a los lectores " d e dinar agradecer el flaco h o m a g e d e esta p r i m a y m o d e s t a n o v e l a " ( a n o 23, n° 1103, 7: 2 7 - 8 - 1 8 9 7 ) . E l a u t o r firma este a r d e u l o en Salônica y m a r z o d e 1897 (a pesar d e q u e se p u b l i c o en agosto). Salvo e r r o r del p e r i ô d i c o en la fecha de la firma, ésta indica s e g u r a m e n t e q u e la novela estaba t e r m i n a d a p a r a e n t o n c e s . P o r o t r a parte, la intriga t r a n s c u r r e e n t r e abril d e 1880 y d i c i e m b r e d e 1896. Si el a u t o r n o introd u j o c a m b i o s en el tiempo de la o b r a en el m o m e n t o d e publicarla, c a b e s u p o n e r q u e a c a b ô d e escribirla e n t r e d i c i e m b r e d e 1896 y m a r z o d e 1897. Si t o d a esta retôrica d e escritor n o v e l deja p o c a s d u d a s acerca d e la autorfa d e Lévy, todavia e n el n u m é r o q u e d e b e c o n t e n e r la entrega n° 36 ( r e c o r d e m o s q u e es u n a d e las q u e n o s faltaba) e n c o n t r a m o s u n t e s t i m o n i o m á s . Se trata d e la p r o t e s t a d e Lévy p o r el ataque q u e h a s u f r i d o la integridad d e su o b r a : A los lectores: La Época me hizo el honor de publicar las Cenas de la vida, que fueron escritas a su inteciôn. En la tercia partida del romanzo, la redaction de La Época, sin darme aviso, creô utile de embarar ["borrar"] muchas pá^inas del capitulo sobre "Lo pasado de una nina." N o n puedo dear pasar esta ocasiôn sin declarar que estas pá^inas fueron embaradas sin mi veluntad. Atorgo que el capitulo en cuestiôn contenia pasajes que los lectores de Oriente non están usados a meldar ["leer"]. Ma las Cenas de la vida es un romanzo realista, acontecido, y la prima condiciôn de un romanzo realista es de decir la verdad, mismo si esta verdad non conviene a

algunos meldadores o meldadoras. Es por esto que jugo menesteroso de protestar.... (ano 23, n° 1140, 5: 27-5-1898)

Nôtese que, para defenderse, Lévy introduce un elemento nuevo sobre el carácter de la novela, y es que se trata de "un romanzo realista, acontecido." La necesidad del autor de aducir argumentos para defender su trabajo y lo tardio de la indication nos inducen a dudar de su veracidad. Otros indicios, ahora internos de la obra, que apuntan a que ésta saliô de la pluma de Sam Lévy son ciertos episodios que podemos relacionar con aspectos de su biografia. El ejemplo más significadvo es, creemos, el que exponemos a continuation. Una parte de la novela transcurre en un lugar indeterminado de Asia Menor, donde Ferdinando ha sido contratado como director del servicio sanitario de la linea férrea en construction. Las explicaciones y descripciones de diversos aspecto relativos a los trabajos, taies c o m o el proceso de constitution en Francia de una sociedad anônima para optar a la concesiôn de las obras, la contrataciôn del personal y sus dificultades, el funcionamiento del servicio sanitario, determinados aspectos de la vida de los trabajadores durante la construcciôn de la linea, etc. demuestran el profundo conocimiento en esta materia que tenia el autor. Efectivamente, Sam Lévy estuvo empleado durante seis anos, de 1890 a 1896, en el "bureau de contrôle des Chemins de fer Orientaux, inspection de Salonique-Zibeftché" como inspector de contabilidad. 7 Una vez que hemos presentado la novela y mostrado brevemente su interés en varios aspectos externos relativos a su creation y difusiôn, conviene mencionar, aunque no podamos extendernos aqui en ellos, otros aspectos tanto externos como internos a los que un estudio más detallado deberá prestar también atenciôn. Está, por un lado, la cuesdôn de la censura. La Epoca se refiere sin más al "averticimiento de la sansur," sin indicar qué instantia ha censurado la novela de Lévy (quizá porque resultaba claro entonces): pudo tratarse tanto de la censura gubernamental como de la propia de las autoridades rabinicas. Habrá que indagar en los motivos y en la naturaleza de lo expurgado y mostrar la probable relaciôn entre la actuaciôn de la censura y el contenido sexual de algunos episodios (recordemos que en la segunda mitad de la obra la acciôn está motivada por los apetitos carnales de Ferdinando y su inclination por la criada, inclination que es eminentemente sexual). Convendrà, además, relacionar estos episodios con los acentos naturalistas que se dejan apreciar en la obra y que son particularmente dignos de consideration, ya que de momento se desconocen otras novêlas sefardies que muestren influencias claras de las corrientes realista y naturalista. Merece comentario asimismo la ausencia total de los judios y de lo judio en la novela, que puede tener su explication en el contenido potencialmente "escandaloso" de la obra para algunos sectores del publico.

6

7

La redacciôn responde en una nota en la misma pagina lo siguiente: Muestro corespondiente se yera en atribuendo a la redacciôn de La Epoca el embaramiento de algunos pasajes de este capitulo. N o s apresuramos de hacerle saber que, malgrado que estos pasajes se raportan a fatos verdaderos y seguros, ellos non pudieron ser reproduicidos sobre ['debido a'] el avertecimiento de la sansur. Véase Lévy 1962: 65 y 1963: 56-57.

T o d o ello sin dejar de lado el examen de aspectos tan heterogéneos c o m o la figura del narrador, la lengua de la obra, los puntos en comûn de ésta con la novela turca contemporânea, y otras cuesdones cuya simple m e n t i o n séria demasiado extensa. E n fin, baste lo dicho para resumir el interés que présenta esta novela. N o s hallamos—a pesar de sus deficiencias, en las que no me puedo detener—ante una obra de envergadura y digna de consideration, que como una de las primeras originales en judeoespanol se muestra como laboratorio de experimentation de las novedades prestadas de la literatura occidental. Quisiera terminar recàlcando que esta novela, sin documentar hasta ahora por la crítica moderna y de la que no conocemos edition independiente, es una buena muestra de lo que puede deparar el despojo de la prensa sefardi que está por hacer.

Bibliografia citada Barquin, A. 1997. Ediciôn y estudio de doce novelas aljamiadas sefardies de principios del siglo XX. Bilbao: Universidad del Pais Vasco. D u m o n t , P. 1992.'Li français d'abord" en Salonique, 1850-1928. Dir. G. Veinstein, Paris: Autrement. de la libreria Šáyilh de libres en judeoespanol y en hebreo. 0herez1í, Š. Y. 1913—1914. Catâlogo Jerusalén: Šáyich. , 1922. Catâlogo de la libreria Šáyilh de libres enfudeoespaiiol. Jerusalén: Šáyich. Gaon, M. D. 1965. A Bibliography of the Judeo-Spanish (Ladino) Press (Hebr.). Jerusalén: Instituto Ben-Zvi. La Época, ano 22, n° 1096 (9-7-1897) a ano 23, n° 1156 (16-9-1898). Lévy, S. 1961. "Mes mémoires." Tesoro de los judios sefardies 4, V-XXV1; 1962. Tesoro... 5, XLIV-LXV; 1963. Tesoro... 6, U I - L X X I ; 1964. Tesoro... 7, LXIX-LXXXV; 1965. Tesoro... 8, XLV-LXII; 1966. Tesoro... 9, LXVIII-LXXIV. Molho M. 1967. "Ha'itonut haespanolit beSaloniki." E n Salonique, Ville-Mère en Israël, Jerusalén-Tel Aviv, 103-108. Nehama, J. 1878. Histoire des Israélites de Salonique.

vols. 6 - 7 . Salônica.

Romero, E. 1992. La creaciôn literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre. , 1993. "Nuevos aspectos de la narrativa judeoespanola." En Proyecciôn histôrica Vol. III, Valladolid: Junta de Casdlla y Leôn, 177-194. Espana en sus très culturas.

de

" L E DIXO TOMADLO POR

QUIDUXÏN"

LA VALIDEZ DE ESTE FENÔMENO SEGÚN SE REFLEJA EN ALGUNA DE LAS RESPONSA SEFARDIES DEL SIGLO XVI ANNETTE BENAIM University of London, UK

"Torna esta mansana que vos lo d o p o r quiduxin" E n Salônica en el siglo XVI Isaac Navarro le ofrece una manzana a Palomba, ella la acepta sin decir nada. Es esto un contrato matrimonial vâlido y legal? (Medina 12). E n la primera pregunta de las Responsa de rabi Samuel de Medina de Salônica tenemos el caso de un h o m b r e que ofrece "una naranjji" c o m o simbolo de los esponsales. La tercera pregunta nos habla de très limones que se le entregan a una muchacha redcente. Y en las responsa del Maharasaj 134, el rabi Salomon hijo de A b r a h a m Hakohén (1535-1602), también de Salônica, se présenta el siguiente caso: 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20.

que me fiziesen un plazer que queria que viniesen con mi que queria dar quiduxin a una mosa y tome un anillo y se lo mostré y lo fue a pesar y pesaba un quintal y siete jacardises y los llebi a los edim al cortijo y ellos quedaron abaxo los dos edim y uno fue con él ariba bino a la puerta y me abriô la mosa y dixe yo a los edim estás ai abaxo respondieron si mira que le do quiduxin estas son palabras meReuvén.

Aqui el lenguaje nos demuestra dos conceptos imprescindibles en los quiduxin, las capitulaciones matrimoniales segûn la ley judia: 1) que el peso y el valor del objeto simbôlico son importantes; 2) la necesidad de la presencia de dos testigos durante la entrega de la prenda de los quiduxin.

Puntos generates sobre los

Quiduxin

Hay que anotar que la presencia de dos testigos vâlidos es esencial en la ley criminai y ritual. Un casamiento solo puede ser vâlido si hay al m e n o s dos testigos présentes. Por ejemplo, Navarro en el primer caso (Medina 12) le da una manzana a Palomba durante un almuerzo d o n d e hay otra gente que puede servir c o m o testigo. Ella la acepta sin decir palabra: esto solo puede ya convertirla en mujer casada. Segûn Mordejay Friman en el SéderQuiduxin Venisuin (163-180), los rabinos de Salônica decidieron instituir la n o r m a de que hacia falta un minim o de diez h o m b r e s présentes en los quiduxin, y que el casamiento fuera efectuado p o r un sabio, un rabino. E s t o era un m o d o de reforzar la ley biblica para elevar el nivel de santidad, y de camino proteger a las jôvenes e inocentes mujeres que n o se dieran cuenta de que el simple h e c h o de aceptar una naranja, un limon, una manzana o hasta un ramo de hojas la vincularia en matrimonio.

Se estableciô otra ley rabinica local que hacia constar que la mujer deberia tener présentes a sus familiares a la hora de los quiduxin. Esto tenia también la funciôn de proteger a las mujeres de llegar a ser prisioneras de la ley si querian divorciarse y quedar libres para volver a casarse. Al insistir en la presencia de un rabino y de la familia de la mujer, el contrato matrimonial se hace reconocer por todos y se convierte en responsabilidad publica, de la comunidad.

Las arras de los quiduxín Las arras de los quiduxin debe tener un valor minimo de una perutd, que es una moneda de cobre équivalente a la unidad minima de valor monetario. E n la Misná (Quid 2:1) se utiliza hasta un dâtil como objeto simbôlico, es siempre que el dâtil tenga el valor minimo que se esdpula. La prenda de los quiduxin representa el m o d o de adquisiciôn. El casamiento, segûn la ley judia, se lleva a cabo a través de la ley de contratos y la ley ritual. La mujer es adquirida por su marido de très maneras: con dinero, con documento, con cohabitation. E n cambio, ella solo puede adquirirse a si misma a través del divorcio ο de la muerte de su marido {Quid 1:1). La adquisiciôn en la ley judia se efectúa con dinero y con un contrato por escrito. Para validar un casamiento es imprescindible que el hombre declare sus intenciones a su apalabrada ο desposada de manera que ella pueda entenderlas. La Biblia describe los quiduxin en términos de adquisiciôn, pues la realization se compara con la adquisiciôn de bienes monetarios. Esta analogia pertenece solo al m o d o en que se realizan los quiduxin, la esencia de los quiduxin y la del casamiento no se equipara a la adquisiciôn material. Según la ley biblica, los quiduxin son la primera parte del casamiento. La parte siguiente, los nisuin, tiene lugar cuando la novia entra en la casa de su marido ο debajo de la hupâ (el palio nupcial). El proceso del casamiento ya esta completo. Hoy dia los quiduxin y los nisuin se llevan a cabo conjuntamente en una misma ceremonia. Antano se necesitaba un divorcio para romper el contrato una vez que se hacian los quiduxin. El rabino con autoridad legal tenia que considerar todos estos factores antes de tomar decisiones sobre la validez de los quiduxin. Es importante que el hombre sea el dueno de la prenda de los quiduxin, y nunca podria ofrecer un objeto que perteneciera a otro. E n las responsa del rabino Isaac Adarbi tenemos a Samuel Vida Caro, quien: 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

le preguntô a su ermano ribi Yehudá hanizkar [el mencionado] si tenia algùn dinero para gastar, y respondiô ribi Xemuel hanizkar, aqui tengo medio gros, y sacôlo, y llamô a su esposa que le estaba aparejàndolos seudat haberit y dixole, Rahel toma este gros por quiduxin para d, y ella lo tomô.

Esta es la description de uno de los testigos. La moneda no estaba destinada para los quiduxin. E n realidad, de la respuesta rabinica aprendemos que Xemuel le habia pedido a su hermano dinero para dar a los pobres. La frase "dinero para gastar" quiere decir segûn Adarbi, "dinero para dar a los pobres." Luego decide utilizar medio gros de ese dinero para sus quiduxin. Adarbi llega a la conclusion de que el hecho de que Samuel Caro admita haber pedido a su hermano dinero

para gastar, del cual apartô medio gros para quiduxin, quiere decir que su intenciôn era ser dueno del dinero. Este se trans firiô de su hermano a él, y luego él tomô la decision de usar una parte para quiduxin. Ya que no hubiéramos conocido toda esta information sin su confesiôn, el rabino se fia de la otra parte de la confesiôn. Adarbi se fia de la integridad de Samuel porque hace una admisiôn compléta sobre la fuente exacta del dinero. A pesar de que él no era dueno de ese dinero al principio, llega a serlo después de adquirirlo. T o d o esto sucediô el dia de la circuncisiôn de su sobrino. Este caso en las responsa de Adarbi condene también otro concepto significativo en los quiduxin. Estos quiduxin se llevaron a cabo sin la presencia de los familiares de Rahel. En estos casos se habria s o m e d d o a los testigos a un riguroso interrogatorio (din merumé) ; asi se asegura la corte de que se cumplen los demás requisitos de los quiduxin. Adarbi no hace esto. Por qué? E n estos procesos legales vemos muchos ejemplos donde el legislador utiliza su experiencia relativa al contexto y su sentido comûn, junto a su profunda comprensiôn de la ley biblica y rabinica. La cuesdôn aqui es que Rahel no tenia familiares présentes al recibir la media moneda, es verdad. Pero segûn Adarbi puede verse claramente de la siguiente ilustraciôn que Rahel era ya su prometida. Tenia bastante confianza con ella. O t r o tesdgo cuenta: 34. vide a R Samuel Vida Caro 35.yairnero, que sacô un gros de veinte àspros de la faldriquera y 36. dixo a su esposa la cual estava mondando espinacas, 37. Rahel toma este gros por quiduxin para mi y ella lo 38. tomô, y se riô y lo metiô en la faldriquera que andava 39. vestida de Colorado...

Es evidente que las frases "estava m o n d a n d o espinacas," "y se riô," etc., muestran que habia un grado de familiaridad, confianza e intimidad social (por el hecho de que ella participara c o m o una más de la familia en la preparation de comidas para la circuncisiôn de su futuro sobrino). Ella entonces comprende el significado del compromiso matrimonial. Asi pues, segûn Adarbi, el casamiento es vâlido y Rahel necesita un divorcio para volver a casarse. T o d o esto prueba que el lenguaje y la ley están íntimamente interrelacionados en estos textos rabinicos del siglo XVI. El orden en que se entrega la prenda de los quiduxin y se pronuncia las palabras "tomadlo por quiduxin" es significativo en la cuestiôn de la validez del matrimonio. E n las responsa del rabino Samuel de Medina (76), Reubén le da un anillo a Lea: 1. bona dona toma este anillo que vos lo do por quiduxin.

Ella lo acepta. Segûn las normas de ley, Reubén debia haber declarado su intenciôn antes de entregar el anillo. A pesar de que no lo hace, el rabino Samuel de Medina no déclara nulo el casamiento. El lo defiende con un argumento lingûistico. El hecho de que Reubén diga "por quiduxin" y no "para quiduxin" deja en claro su intention de casarse con ella. La frase "tomadlo para quiduxin" se utiliza en el caso de que Reubén representa otra persona. C o m o Reubén utiliza las pa-

labras "por quiduxin," eso es prueba de que su intenciôn es séria y enfocada al matrimonio. Aunque en judeo-espanol el " p o r " y el "para" no implican distinciôn, es interesante que Medina se fije en ello. Esto puede interpretarse de dos maneras: 1) Quizás la gente sabia que la disdnciôn era necesaria en cuestiones legales, es decir, que aunque intercambiasen el " p o r " y el "para" al hablar, en el m o m e n t o del casamiento se sabia que la frase "por quiduxin" era lo propio. 2) Quizás Medina aplica al judeo-espanol la disdnciôn de sentido del hebreo. De todos modos, ella acepta el aniUo; asi pues, por ley está casada y necesita un divorcio para desvincularse y quedar libre de Reubén. De ésta y de otras responsa puede verse que el m o m e n t o en que se pronuncian los quiduxin es importante; pero ello solo no dene fuerza suficiente para hacer nulo un matrimonio. E n la respuesta numéro 34 de Medina Haim Gateno le ofrece un dedal de plata a Rica: 2. venatán Iah hadedal hanizk' 3. después que lo tomo le dixo toma este dedal por quiduxin y ella 4. dixo y yo que lo resibo.

Aqui Medina sigue la norma de rabi Moisés Almosnino de Salônica. La norma esdpula que el hecho solo de que la idenddad de los individuos no esté claro no es razôn para anular un casamiento. Medina dice que aqui tenemos un caso en que se entrega el dedal antes de decir las palabras de quiduxin. E n este caso Haim Gateno ha fallecido y Rica quiere liberarse del precepto del levirato. D e acuerdo con la ley biblica, este mandamiento se invoca cuando una viuda sin hijos tiene que casarse con un hermano de su fallecido esposo para procrear un hijo que herede. Los rabinos trataban siempre de liberar a las mujeres y a los cunados de este vinculo. E n este caso los testigos se contradicen también en los detalles de la ropa que llevaba Rica. Aunque en cuestiones de quiduxin, asi c o m o en la ley monetaria, el desacuerdo entre los testigos no tiene tanta importancia, el rabino Medina se basa en él para liberar a Rica del levirato. Rica puede volver a casarse con el hombre que desee. Este es un ejemplo del razonamiento legal de Medina, quien siempre ponia en practica su sentido comûn en sus respuestas. Esto lo describe Morris Goodblatt en 1952 con las siguientes palabras: at times when the strict interpretation of the letter of the law would lead to a decision contrary to c o m m o n sense he [Medina] would by a process of reinterpretation stress the spirit rather than the letter.

Formular los quiduxin Las palabras "para mi" en el proceso de los quiduxin son imprescindibles. "Tomadlo por quiduxin para mi " expresa con claridad la intenciôn del novio, y la novia lo endende asi. Con todo, la ausencia de estas palabras no es suficiente para anular un matrimonio. Aqui vemos en el texto 8 de Medina (Even Ηαε^βή : 9. dixo c o m o le dixo Yosi hanyz' leDina hanyz', quies estos 10. ducados por quiduxin para una cadena? y dixo la mosa pon uno en el

11. suelo, y lo puzo y lo tomô la mosa y ella que se iva dixo R Yosef 12. a los que alli estavan sedme edim que lo tomô por quiduxin.

El matrimonio de Diná es nulo por varias razones. El novio no dijo "para mi," ni tampoco lo dio a entender. Es decir que "para mi" puede también estar implicito y cuenta como vâlido. Es aqui donde el lenguaje también asume un papel importante; el leer entre lineas y recoger el senddo de las palabras del testimonio solo puede efectuarse a través de un p r o f u n d o conocimiento del idioma, en este caso el judeo-espanol. Además, Diná no acepta todos los ducados, sino solo algunos. Vemos también que no toma las arras de los quiduxin directamente de la mano del novio, sino que le pide que ponga un ducado en el suelo y luego ella lo recoge. De aqui aprendemos que el objeto dene que ser aceptado directamente del hombre por la mujer. Sin embargo, en el caso del rabino Salomon hijo de Abraham Hakohén (numéro 134), la omisiôn del "para mi" supone diferencia en el juicio del rabino. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68 69. 70.

...fuimos todos très juntos. quedamos mosotros abaxo arimados a una paredica fronte del b[a]randad0.. ariba el dito Hayim dixo, estás abaxo vosotros? y dixo mira que do un anillo lo dio en mano de una mosa, y dixo mira que do quiduxin

El testimonio es largo, condene más de 90 lineas de judeo-espanol de varios tesdgos contando los quiduxin desde diferentes puntos de vista en un rico lenguaje entremezclado con palabras hebreas. Hakohén déclara nulo este matrimonio a causa de la omisiôn del "para mi." Además, los testigos no parecen tener una imagen clara de la novia, a la que se refieren c o m o "una mosa." Asi pues, si ella niega haber aceptado el anillo, la autoridad rabinica la cree. Luego, cuando la corte pregunta al testigo si Haim dijo la formula de los quiduxin antes ο después de entregar las arras de los quiduxin, el testigo contesta: 73. tenia el 74. a n ‫ ש‬o en la mano la mosa, y dixo mira que do quiduxin

Está claro que al recibir el anillo aûn desconocia el propôsito. Hakohén sigue la norma rabinica de Maimônides, quien daba mucha importancia al orden en que se suceden la parte verbal y gestual de los quiduxin. Hay un caso en particular que quiero sacar a relucir, y es uno que fue enviado a Adarbi y también al rabino Yosef Caro, nacido en 1488 aqui en Toledo: 9. c o m o un dia en el barandado vido cômo estava rebi Yisrael 10. asentado con un pandero en su mano y vino Estrella y le demandô el 11. pandero y diôselo por quiduxin, y no se acuerda de si le dixo "tomadlo por

quiduxin," ο "vos 12. lo do por quiduxin," mas que se acuerda sierto que non le dixo "para mi."

Son vâlidos estos quiduxin o no? Segûn Yosef Caro la omisiôn del "para m i " es ya suficiente par anular este casamiento. Luego está la cuesdôn del pandero. El pandero es un objeto de mujer, al menos las mujeres suelen poseerlos. E n realidad, Estrella confirma que el pandero pertenece a Sara, y ya sabemos que el objeto de quiduxin dene que ser propiedad del novio. Además, segûn el rabino Caro, el t o n o de estas lineas citadas es tal vez distendido y en broma. El matrim o n i o es nulo: Estrella puede casarse de nuevo sin tener que divorciarse antes. La ûltima de las responsa a las que voy a referirme es una que le mandaron a Adarbi en 1553. El hecho es que Sete, la supuesta novia, n o está présente cuand o se escribe el testimonio. Hay una norma que esdpula que el testimonio solo puede ser aceptado en presencia de ambas partes. Lo que sucede aqui es que très dias después de que el tesdmonio fuera escrito, Sete acepta quiduxin de otro hombre. Pues si su matrim o n i o no está anulado, c o m o puede ella volver a casarse? E n realidad, de todos los ejemplos citados el caso de Sete es u n o en el que n o cabe la m e n o r duda de la validez de los quiduxin. 10. y estonses quedôse rebi Yomtob hanizcar a la mujer de rebi Abraham hanizcar 11. senora, llamalda acá, y que llamô la mujer de rebi Abraham hanizcar, Sete 12. sal acá, also Sete un paramento que estava delante la 13. puerta, y que saliô Sete hanizc' enpar de su madré, y que rebi Yomtob hanizc' 14. le dise leSete hanizc', queres resibir quiduxin dime, y que Sete hanizc' mirô 15. a la madré en la cara y luego dixo Sete, si

Luego Y o m Τ ο ν pronuncia claramente las palabras todas de los quiduxin y le da una m o n e d a veneciana que ella acepta delante de testigos. T o d o está de acuerdo con las leyes de los quiduxirr. las arras, la situaciôn y unas senales claras de amistad entre la madré de Sete y el novio. Asi pues, Adarbi n o déclara nulo el primer matrimonio de Sete, y su segundo matrimonio n o cuenta.

Conclusiôn E n conclusion, las responsa elegidas para esta comunicaciôn son las que contienen testimonios en judeo-espanol escritas en letras hebreas. Mi investigacion inicial trata de buscar taies textos, descifrar el lenguaje y luego interpretar y ofrecer mis comentarios. E s evidente que la comprension del judeo-espanol es necesaria para entender totalmente estos casos de quiduxin. El lenguaje en estos testimonios sirve para clarificar las arras de los quiduxin, el propietario del objeto y la intention del novio en relaciôn al objeto. A través del lenguaje puede verse el grado de amistad y conocimiento de la pareja. Podemos averiguar si la mujer sabia exactamente el significado de los quiduxin. Palabras c o m o " p o r " o "para," dichas con o sin intention de matrimonio adquieren un significado legal. El orden en que se suceden el pronunciar la formula y el entregar las arras de los quiduxin tiene importancia legal. Asi pues, " t o m a d l o p o r quiduxin para mi de acuerdo con la ley de Moisés e Israel," debe

decirse s i e m p r e antes de q u e la m u j e r a c e p t e el o b j e t o q u e la vincule e n matrim o n i o para la eternidad. 1

Obras citadas Adarbi, Isaac ben Samuel 1581. Dibré ribot. Colecciôn de Responsa. Salônica. Caro, Yosef ben Efráyim 1598. Seelot utsubot (Dîné Quiduxin). Colecciôn de Responsa. Salônica. (Mantua 1730). Friman, A. H. 1964. Seder Quiduxin Venisuin. Jerusalén: Mossad Harav Kook. Goodblatt, M. 1952. Jewish Life in Turkey in the XVIth Century. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America. Hakohén, Salomon ben Abraham 1592. Seelot utsubot, helek bet. Colecciôn de Responsa. Venecia. Medina, Samuel de 1594. Seelot utsubot Maharasdam. Colecciôn de Responsa. Salônica.

Quiero dar las gracias al Profesor Iacob M. Hassan por sus recomendaciones y consejos, y por la revision de este trabajo.

A S P E C T O S LINGÜfSTICOS DEL LIBRO DE DAVID M . ATÍAS LA GÜERTA DE ORO (LIORNA, 1778) ÁNGEL BERENGUER AMADOR Universidad de Haifa, Israel

E n esta comunicaciôn me p r o p o n g o analizar algunos rasgos lingüisticos que he encontrado en una primera aproximaciôn al libro La güerta de oro. E n estos aspectos p o d r e m o s encontrar también algunos de los rasgos que caracterizan la lengua sefardi, y particularmente la de la edad de oro de su literatura. Antes de comenzar el anâlisis lingüistico voy a hacer una breve presentation de esta obra del escritor sefardi David M. Adas, 1 que es el libro de tema p r o f a n o más antiguo que conservamos en judeoespanol. El hecho de que la temática de este libro sea de carácter p r o f a n o lo destaca literaria y lingüisticamente del resto de la p r o d u c t i o n sefardi del siglo XVIII. Desde el p u n t o de vista literario, este libro no se puede clasificar dentro de ninguno de los géneros a los que pertenecen otras obras de su siglo, sino que es un precedente, dentro de la literatura sefardi, de otros libros de entretenimiento con contenido miscelâneo publicados hacia el primer tercio del siglo XX. Desde el p u n t o de vista lingüistico, nos encontramos con un texto de libre creaciôn en judeoespanol y que no está influido—ο lo está en mucha m e n o r medida que el resto de la literatura sefardi de su é p o c a — p o r originales hebreos, puesto que ni los traduce ni los tiene c o m o fuente, por lo que présenta un registro de lengua singular que hace muy interesante su estudio. La obra está editada en la aljamia hebraica, c o m o la amplia mayoria de la p r o d u c t i o n literaria sefardi. A lo largo de la comunicaciôn abordaré varios aspectos que caracterizan la lengua de este texto, principalmente algunos rasgos caracterizadores del sistema verbal, c o m o son varios de los usos del futuro en lugar de los présentes tanto de subjuntivo c o m o de indicativo. Pero antes de ello vamos a hacer referencia a otros fenômenos que merecen ser resenados: 2 E n primer lugar, este texto présenta palabras hebreas que no siguen la ortografia hebrea, sino una ortografia fonémica, en la que cada fonema está representado por una letra ο conjunto de letras, a diferencia de la ortografia hebrea, en la que la mayoria de los fonemas vocâlicos no aparecen representados más

Para su caracterizaciôn literaria me he basado en el libro: Romero, E. 1992. La creaciôn literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre, 209-212. Remito a él para más informaciôn. Al ser esta comunicaciôn una cala de la tesis doctoral que me encuentro realizando—dirigida por los doctores Iacob M. Hassán y Eugenio Bustos Gisbert—no incluyo en ella la bibliografia relacionada con los diversos fenômenos aqui comentados, la cual se consignarà en la etapa final de la tesis.

que p o r signos diacridcos. 3 Quizás lo veamos más claro con un ejemplo: la palabra hebrea batlanut4 (2b, 'ociosidad"), se escribe en hebreo sin letra de apoyo para ninguna de las dos ocasiones en que aparece el f o n e m a / a / . Pues bien, en La giierta de oro dicha palabra aparece con un álef para cada una de las realizacionés de dicho fonema / a / . Además, la ultima consonante de dicha palabra en hebreo es tav, y en nuestro texto aparece con tel, que es la forma habituai de representar el sonido dental oclusivo sordo [t] en el sistema ortogrâfico sefardi, puesto que las letras hebreas kaf, 'áyin y la mencionada tav se reservan a palabras de origen hebreo. Otras palabras que aparecen con esta grafia son %anay (2b, "putanero") yyovel (12a, "jubileo"). Este f e n ô m e n o es p o c o frecuente en textos anteriores a la segunda mitad del siglo XIX. D e b i d o a que en el libro hay muy escasos testimonios de esta forma de escribir palabras hebreas n o p o d e m o s senalar a qué obedece su apariciôn, pero no parece i n f u n d a d o sostener que solo se produce en palabras que ya están integradas en el sistema lingûisdco sefardi. Un segundo aspecto que vamos a mencionar, y en el que nuestra obra también se adelanta a otros textos sefardies, es la apariciôn de la escritura correspondiente a bente (2a y hasta un total de once casos) junto a gente, (2b y o c h o casos más en la introduction, forma general en el resto de la obra), es decir, la susrituciôn ocasional de la letra guïmel con rafé, representation escrita del sonido prepalatal africado sonoro [y], p o r la letra hebrea jet, que representa el sonido velar—o faringeo—fricadvo sordo. 5 Los primeros casos de este f e n ô m e n o habian sido advertidos ya en obras impresas en Italia en la primera mitad del siglo XIX y se deben a impresores italianos conocedores del espanol peninsular, en el que se habia producido esta evolution, o a impresores sefardies norteafricanos, que introducen el sonido que conocen y utilizan. E n nuestro texto este fenômen o n o es generalizado y se reduce a los ejemplos que h e m o s citado, que aparecen solo en la introduction. S u p o n e m o s que quizás el autor advirdô este hecho

Este fenômeno ya lo ha resaltado Bunis, D. 1993. A Lexicon of the Hebrew and Aramaic Elements in Modern]ude?m0. Jerusalén: The Magnes Press, Hebrew University y Misgav Yerushalayim, 34. Los ejemplos han sido tornados de la ediciôn de La güerta de oro mencionada. Entre paréntesis indico la pagina donde se encuentran. El sistema de transcripciôn utilizado esta basado en la grafia alfonsi, aunque présenta algunas parucularidades. A condnuaciôn presento sus principales caracterísricas: -b : fonema labial oclusivo sonoro; —ν : fonema labial fricadvo sonoro, sin que podamos saber si su realizaciôn es bilabial o labiodental, puesto que ambas realizaciones coexisten en judeoespanol.; -•g" y j : fonemas prepalatales sonoros: fricadvo interior de palabra tras vocal y africado a principio de palabra y tras consonante; -χ• : fonema prepalatal fricadvo sonoro; —h : fonema velar—o faringeo—fricadvo sordo. Hay seseo (como en todos los textos sefardies), por lo que c", f, s n o intervocâlica y ss representan el fonema alveolar fricadvo sordo /s/; s intervocâlica y z representan el fonema alveolar fricativo sonoro / z / . Hay yeismo, por lo que la combinaciôn II se articula c o m o fricativa linguopalatal central sonora [y], igual q u e j . Normalizo los casos de anomalias grâficas sin senalarlo. Con este fenômeno esta relacionada la ûnica apariciôn de enhemplos (4a) junto al mas abundante enxemplos (5a, entre otros).

antes de que se compusiera el resto del libro y p u d o intervenir evitando que este f e n ô m e n o se extendiera al resto de la obra. O t r o de los f e n ô m e n o s que p o d e m o s senalar es la apariciôn de varias negaciones pleonâsticas, esto es, n o necesarias, puesto que la o r a t i o n tendria el mism o significado sin ellas. Estas negaciones aparecen en oraciones que d e p e n d e n generalmente de verbos de temor ο de palabras de carácter negativo. V e a m o s algunos ejemplos: sienpre está temblando que non sean danadas sus veluntades del haver (22b) el dichoso quismet es echo y criado de las bocas de las personas y esto por Jalta de non poder entender las razones y cavzas de aquellos maies que les vienen sin pensar sovre la caveça (23b) cale que vos guardex mucho de non acercarvos ni tocar vestido con vesddo con algûn franco (59a)

Este d p o de negation pleonâsdca es frecuente en el espanol medieval y, aunque también existe en el espanol m o d e r n o , está m e n o s extendida. E n t r a n d o ya en el sistema verbal, vamos a presentar varios ejemplos de ausencia del gerundio ο susdtuciôn de esta forma verbal p o r una preposition y el infinitivo, c o m o se observa en las siguientes oraciones: y ansi premiar y estimar a los que fazen bien para que se les acrecente la gana de continual a a%er y de fuir y apartarse de los que pagan y fazen mal (23b) como bedéreh maxal a un rey baxar vadam que setencia que todos los que están debajo de él sean povres y esto faze con tomarles las aziendas (20b) está en su mano a fazerse crecer esta 1ágrima de meollo y arafinarla cada dia más [...] con estudiar y conugear de ves en cuando todo modo de gente y sentir las cosas del mundo (20b)

Pasamos a condnuaciôn al anâlisis de los usos del futuro en distribution diferente a la del espanol c o n t e m p o r â n e o . E n el texto, c o m o hemos dicho, encontramos varios casos de futuro imperfecto de indicativo en lugar del présente de subjunrivo, en algunas estructuras pardculares que vamos a ver a condnuaciôn: 1. E n primer lugar, en las oraciones relativas especificativas prospectivas, es decir, referidas al futuro, que en el espanol c o n t e m p o r â n e o se construyen con présente de subjundvo, en el texto aparecen con futuro, c o m o p o d e m o s observar en los siguientes ejemplos: con demás aver metido la letra francesa que vino yaquindán del Rey de Francia que déclara los provechos y grandezas que ternán todos aquellos jidiôs que trän a morar en su reinado (1 a) la mi intenciôn non fue otra que para azer enbevecer y complazer al sovre dicho mi amigo que sox vos, como también a todos aquellos que les agradará meldarlo (3b) y esto será cuando la fuerça y la claridad del su meollo sovrepasse a la fuerça negra que podrâ tener la su estrella (23b)

E n oraciones relativas especificativas n o prospecdvas, sin embargo, encontram o s en el texto el présente de subjundvo:

non ay otro que un Xe[m] yit[barah] que sea bivo y firme (21a)

2. U n segundo uso del futuro de indicativo en lugar del présente de subjundvo lo encontramos en oraciones subordinadas sustantivas en funciôn de objeto directo de verbos de pensamiento c o m o esperar, segûn muestran los ejemplos que siguen: espero que a vos y a la gente savia y onrada les gustará a meldar esta mi fatiga y entenderân que lo que la fize fue más por amor vuesso (3a) espero que a vos y a la gente de buen entendimiento y de sanos meollos ressiviran y meldarân esta mi fadga con buen coraçôn: y agradecimiento (5b)

3. P o r ûltimo, hemos encontrado también algûn caso aislado de empleo del futuro en oraciones finales: esforçarà a aquella persona a azer el bien para que este que tuvo el quismet lo

go^arà (22a) Pese a este ejemplo, el uso del présente de subjundvo es el habituai en nuestra obra en este tipo de construcciones, lo que ejemplificamos a condnuaciôn: por non querer servirse del meollo que el Xe[m] yit[barah] le enpresentô aposta para que pense a todo modo de echo que va a azer (22b) espera a mandârsela más tarde que puede para que se le venda la suya más presto y más mijor (22b)

Este uso del futuro de indicadvo en lugar del présente de subjundvo que hemos senalado n o ha de tomarse c o m o indicio del retroceso en el uso del subjundvo en esta obra p o r dos razones: la primera es que el uso del futuro imperfecto de indicadvo en construcciones d o n d e hoy se emplea el présente de subjundvo lo encontramos también en castellano medieval y clàsico; la segunda razôn es que los d e m p o s del m o d o subjundvo se emplean ampliamente a lo largo del texto. Asi, el présente de subjundvo, al margen de las estructuras antes senaladas, presenta la misma distribution que en el espanol c o n t e m p o r â n e o y de ello encontramos n o pocos ejemplos, entre los que entresacamos los siguientes: sienpre está temblando que non sean danadas sus veluntades del haver (22b) non se le inporta que sea más baja (23a) cale que por fuerça vcryga también él en Franquia para poder bivir (23a)

También del pretérito imperfecto hay ejemplos en la obra, de los que aqui ofrecemos estos dos: el verdadero jidiô debe de tomar lehaf zehut, ο sea a parte buena, todo modo de cosa que se sintiesse dezir del haver (5b) si ellos entedieran que [...] aziendo alguna otra cosa pomposa. y tantas otras que son cuentra el buen entendimiento que es natural que con sus propias manos se están aziendo el quismet de tener mal (23b)

del pretérito perfecto hemos encontrado este ejemplo: cale ver si esta su povreza: la cavzaron la mala gente con llevarle y arevatarle las aziendas ο que aiga sido por el fuerte disgusto de la su Ventura (21b)

y el pretérito pluscuamperfecto también está representado en esta obra, de lo cual aqui expongo unas muestras: dize que si uviera savido él allà que el tal navio se tenia de perder que non avería cargado su azienda (21a) Y ansí digo que si todo Yisrael uviessenpodido antes ver con sus meollos assegún antesveian los profetas de la destruiciôn de ellos y de Yeruxa1áyim, cierto que uvieran tornado en texuvá (21a)

El ûnico tiempo del s u b j u n d v o del que n o hemos hallado ejemplos en esta obra es el futuro, que también se encuentra en amplio retroceso en el espanol contemporâneo. El ultimo f e n ô m e n o lingûisdco que vamos a analizar es el uso del futuro p o r el présente de indicadvo en la protasis de oraciones condicionales reales referidas a un tiempo futuro. Presentamos aqui varios ejemplos: si una persona sera savia y terná el vicio de jugar toda su hohmà, non varlà un aspro por la razôn que con el jugar se destrûe y viene a ser despreciado: y la gente necia toman enjemplo de él y se destrûen. lo mizmo es si sera borachôn: o sera mujerenco o gaavento: o si ternà alguna otra cosa fea que es tenida de la gente necia (21b) si la fuerça de la su negra estrella sera más grande de la fuerça suya y del su meollo, estonces el ombre quedará de debajo y terná el mal (23b)

Este uso t a m p o c o es el normativo en el espanol m o d e r n o , pero si se encuentra en la lengua medieval, generalmente, aunque n o exclusivamente, en textos con influencia catalana o aragonesa. También se halla en el espanol clàsico, fundamentalmente en textos de autores relacionados con Italia. Además, el uso del futuro es habituai en otras lenguas, c o m o el latin y el italiano, lo que n o ha de ser extrano, pues nos estamos refiriendo a condiciones cuyo cumplimiento o n o está en el porvenir. N o parece extrana la existencia de relaciôn entre los usos analizados del futuro de indicativo en lugar de los présentes—tanto de subjuntivo c o m o de indicativo—que prefiere el espanol contemporâneo. Es posible suponer que en el sistema lingüistico subyacente al texto hay una tendencia a expresar la nociôn de futuro con el tiempo que recibe esta d e n o m i n a t i o n de una forma más extensa que en el espanol. A m b o s fenômenos, asi c o m o el de la negation pleonâstica, n o son exclusivos de esta obra, sino también de otros textos sefardies y en nuestra opinion son muestras de una de las características principales de la lengua sefardi, la fijaciôn de su norma de forma independiente a la de las otras ramas del espanol con las que comparte un origen c o m û n .

G E N I O Y FIGURA DE SEIS POETAS SEFARDIES DE AMSTERDAM, H A M B U R G O Y L I V O R N O DE LOS SIGLOS XVII-XVIII KENNETH BROWN University of Calgary, Canada

Durante más de dos siglos la Inquisiciôn espafiola y portuguesa perseguia a sospechosos de judaizar con un afán resoluto y con la eficacia de una burocracia moderna. Las medidas empleadas por los inquisidores, sobre todo por los nuevos en el cargo, eran inhumanas, salvajes, brutales. La existencia de este organismo oficial y burocrâdco tuvo que responsabilizarse, además de los horrores, de obligar a un grupo nutrido de estos judaizantes a exiliarse de la Peninsula Ibérica. El exilio tenia sus desventajas obvias, pero sus ventajas también. Posibilitô una renovaciôn de dotes personales, promoviô estrategias para la supervivencia, y ampliô la creadvidad literaria. Por ejemplo, el exilio obligô al espanol judaizante hacia un muld- ο plurilingüismo tanto prâcdco c o m o estético. Se le muldplicaban las experiencias vitales, las que se evocan en las obras de estos exiliados con una plurivocidad de significados, comprensibles solo a una minoria de correligionarios. El exilio favoreciô la formaciôn de varias "nuevas personalidades," tanto civicas c o m o literarias. Los criticos literarios han tendido a destacar al cordobés Miguel de Barrios (1635-1701) c o m o el modelo ejemplar del escritor sefardi a caballo entre dos culturas: la espafiola del siglo de oro y la hebrea ortodoxa de Amsterdam. Pero habia m u c h o s más. E n este trabajo escribiré sobre seis personalidades sefardies de la diàspora de los siglos XVII y XVIII: 1. Shlomo Abudiente (Simâo Rodrigues Navarro), de Moura, Portugal (ca. 1580-ca. 1630); 2. Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z , de Cuenca (1600-1661); 3. Abraham G ô m e z Silveira (Diego Gomes), de Arévalo (16561741); 4. Rebeca Isabel Correa, de Portugal (m. ca.1698); 5. David (Félix) del Valle Saldana, de Badajoz (1699-1755); y 6. Jeosûah (Jesus?) Habilho, de H a m b u r g o (s. XVIII; m. ca. 1765). Cada individuo tenia o debia tener su musa séria, contrita y conforme a la ortodoxia hebrea, y cada u n o también tenia su musa secular y a veces fesdva. Mi propôsito es comentar y analizar ciertos rasgos evidentes en sus respectivas obras literarias que nos ayudarán a comprender mejor su perfil psicolôgico y creadvo. Cada uno de estos seis individuos era en alguna manera un sobreviviente de las redadas inquisitoriales. T o d o s habian perdido su patria, amigos y familiares. T o d o s se negaron al conformismo de una vida crisdana en una Iberia acomodada; todos eran exiliados contra su voluntad. D e ahi una fortaleza especial, un talento agudizado, una flexibilidad inusitada: el deseo de sobrevivir. Comienzo con la personalidad más estrafalaria del grupo, Shlomo Abudiente, nacido Simâo Rodrigues Navarro en Moura, Portugal. Procedia de una fami-

lia de conversos; sin embargo, seguia un tren de vida muy conformista: estudiante de derecho canônico y civil en Coimbra (1597-1603), luego monje extrapenitente en Madrid en la época de 1608—1618 [Ρ] ; por fin lo localizamos en Venecia y Livorno en 1621 ("em veneria entrey quando uim de Amsterdam a noite de pascoa de sucot ano 5380"). 1 Alii se hace amigo adoptivo de la familia Abudiente, cripto-judios de abolengo portugués, oriundos de Hamburgo con enlaces en Italia. De Livorno pasa a Bologna, donde reside con el Dr. Manuel Rodriguez Navarro, conocido como "il Dottor Spagnuolo," su do de parte patema. Segûn su propia declaration ante los inquisidores de Roma en 1624, Shlomo creia que su do pracdcaba el judaismo en secreto. Es curiosa tal déclaraciôn tenida de duda de este sefardi atormentado, ya que en 1617 y 1622 su famoso do, profesor de la Universidad conimbrense, habia padecido in absentia la confiscation de sus bienes ante el Santo Oficio por ser judaizante. El acta fue formalizada en Madrid. E n su vida se ve que Shlomo nunca estaba seguro de casi nada, menos de si mismo. N o s fascina este nuevo reconverso puesto que gracias a sus estudios de Talmud y Torà, nos ha proporcionado un bello cancionero lirico, cuya action amorosa tiene lugar en Toledo y también en Madrid. Shlomo, Jacob Esperiel y sus amigos correligionarios solian reunirse en sus ratos de ocio para entonar las "cantigas" más melifluas de Castilla la Nueva de su tiempo. Shlomo Abudiente recordaba una tira de versos de la égloga tercera de Garcilaso ("Serca del taio en soledad amena"), trasladaba a su hebreo recién aprendido, pero en aljamia, con su letra hebrea cursiva Rashi, el romance tal vez lopesco de "Oye, divina sefiora / las quejas de un triste amo. / ... Esto cantaba un pastor / a las orillas del Tajo / a ausencia de su Amarilis [Marta de Nevares?] / y asi cantaba a los aires"; y hasta sonaba con otro romance en el repertorio, " P o r las puertas de Toledo" que ha de ser una equivocation mem0rística por "Por las puertas del esdo," de Lope. Genio y figura hasta la sepultura: gracias a nuestro antologista, sus tormentos personales le llevaron a la neurosis, la inseguridad y a la paranoia, pero también le brindaban la posibilidad de atravesar fronteras, estudiar nuevas lenguas, comprender otras ideologias para captar para la posterioridad unas muestras de la musa lirica de mil seiscientos que en cualquier otra situation humana seguramente hubieran quedado olvidadas. C o m o apéndice a la historia cabria decir que este judaizante ferviente tornaria al seno del catolicismo además de denunciar a su familia adoptiva a la Inquisition italiana. El segundo ingenio es el converso Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z (1600-1661), conquense perambulante, poeta, autor de teatro, polemicista, que quiso ser judio a toda costa durante una época decisiva para su formation creativa, pero sin atenerse necesariamente a la ortodoxia de los rabinos de Amsterdam ni a los preceptos de la alianza entre Abraham y Adonay, es decir mediante el ‫" ברית מ י ל ה‬la circuncisiôn." 2 Un rasgo saliente de su genio era el dominio de su publico, ya fuera lector ο espectador, laico, religioso ο politico. Se ensenô a nutrir una pluri1

2

Brown, K.-Gômez Aranda, M. 1998. "A New Seventeenth-Century Spanish and Portuguese Canâonero and its Sephardi Connection." Romance Philology 52, 45-70. Véase de Wilke, C. L. 1994. Jiidische-Christliche Dopplelehen in Barock: Antonio Enrique^ Gáme^. Frankfurt: Peter Lang.

vocidad de significados en sus obras literarias segûn las exigencias del consumidor. He aqui un nuevo ejemplo del juego polisémico que guiaba su intelecto de converso: en el tomo de las Academias morales de las musas (1642) intercala très sonetos " E n alabanza de Adán," " E n alabanza de E n o c h / ' y " E n alabanza de N o é " en la narration. 3 El tomo de las Academias se encabeza con una Dedication a cargo de Francisco Sazedôn, y va dirigida a D. Juan de Goyeneche, "sindico de la Santa Provincia de Burgos, del Orden de N uestro Vadre S an Francisco, y Administrador de los Puertos Secos de Casdlla." Le sigue una "Aprobaciôn" del Padre M. Fray Juan Baurista Palacio, del Orden de la Sandsima Trinidad, Calificador del Santo Oficio." Unos preliminares de sello más catôlico y casdzo no podian encontrarse. A condnuaciôn viene una historia de caballerias y de pastores fantásdca, en rima de romance (que la voz narradva cualifica de "triunfo enamorado"), seguida de la primera Academia, donde el personaje del Pasajero, nàufrago desde hace cuarenta anos y piloto del bajel de la vida, présenta a cualquier lector "pasajero" una exhortation a la templanza y una prédica contra la vanidad de lo material. Unas treinta páginas más adelante en el texto, c o m o si fueran contertulios de una academia literaria madrilena, Albano, Alvaro y Danteo recitan très epigramas, los sonetos sobre los biblicos Adán, Enoch y Noé. Estos mismos sonetos, acompanados de veindtrés adicionales, todos sobre héroes y heroinas de la Torá, aparecen en un manuscrito milanés de procedencia holandesa. Yo, en otro lugar, considéra este cancionero una colecciôn bipolar divisible en dos campos: el peninsular catôlico, representado por Gôngora, Lope, Quevedo, Villamediana, la Inquisition y el catolicismo militante frente al de los exiliados sefardies: Abraham Salon, Barrios, Antonio Raposo, A. E. G., Jacob de Pina, David Henriques, los patriarcas y matriarcas del Anriguo Testamento y los mártires judeoespafioles relajados en el auto de fe de Côrdoba, de 1655. E n este manuscrito, el conjunto de 26 sonetos forma un corpus poetarum unitario de un catâlogo de hebreos triunfantes, que han pervivido gracias a su transmisiôn manuscrita. Podrian ser los "triunfos inmortales en rima" que anunciaba A. E. G. en el prôlogo a su Sanson Na^areno. En las Academias morales, no obstante, los très sonetos resultan facdcios, sin relaciôn estrecha entre si, aunque el que trata sobre Noé, descrito como "piloto ... errante," puede que sirviera al poeta de un àlterego en busca de un gobierno justo. Aqui Noé maneja el timon de su "cisne de pino" de una manera tnunfante. Clara está que existe un leve vinculo lingûisdco entre el discurso de este soneto y la narraciôn que le precede en el texto. Los 26 sonetos son asimismo un pequeno cancionero unitario además de un fuerte testimonio, en forma manuscrita, del atractivo que siente el poeta por una hagiografia judia militante, justa y heroica. Su temárica es la necesidad de que hubiera una monarquia sabia y prudente, de validos como Moisés. Los héroes y las heroinas véterotestamentarios son pasajeros, peregrinos, exiliados, y victimas también, taies como lo son las voces del älterego del autor conquense en varias obras suyas. Incluso se percibe una llamada mesiánica en el soneto n° 13, " E n alabanza de

Cfr. Brown, K. y Valerio, C. 1996. "Nuevas calas sobre la persona y la obra de Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z . " Revista Cuenca (Cuenca: Diputaciôn Provincial) 44, 47-65.

Judá," en cierto m o d o equiparable al del "Romance de Lope de Vera y Alarcôn" ( w . 493 ss.). Con la lectura del texto manuscrito estamos muy lejos en tono e intencionalidad de la lectura de los preliminares del texto impreso. Son mundos aparte, y permiten apreciar cuán ingenioso era Antonio Enriquez G o m e z al crear un côdigo hermenéudco basado, en gran parte, en el mero medio de transmisiôn de su texto. El tercer ingenio es Diego ο Diogo G o m e s Silveira (1656-1740), de Arévalo, que se transforma en Abraham Gômez Silveira ya instalado en Amsterdam. Su primer brote de gran creadvidad es un pequeno volumen de sermones predicados en la sinagoga de Kahal Kado en 1676. Me llaman la atenciôn no las homilias en una prosa poco esdmulante, sino très poemitas en los très idiomas que ya dominaba a una edad tan temprana: el hebreo, el portugués y el espanol:

Respuesta del Autor [Cuarteto] ‫מ ז מ ו ר ל ת ו ד ה כל בנועם שרו‬ ‫בשיר ו ה ו ד א ה ואמרי ש פ ר‬ ‫בעלי ברית אברם מ א ד נכרו‬ ‫על כל אשר כ ו ת ב אני בספר‬ Canto esta canciôn de agradecimiento, que todos han cantado. Mediante la canciôn se asegura el convenio con Abraham, y que la naciôn hebrea acepte todas mis palabras que he escrito en este libro.

Breve reposta aos referidos elôgios [Dézima] C o m o é tanta a discreçào con que aplaudis meu sugeito, nào hay razào, sem conceito, nem conceito sem razào; mayor é a emulaçào que ο aplauso que me dais, pois tal engenho mostrais meus estudos sublimando, que mais dizeis vos louvando que eu digo en quanto Iouvais.

Al curioso (p. 112) N o hay impresiôn sin erratas, y si en ésta hallares yerros yo enmiendo los de la estampa, tu enmienda los del ingenio. 4

El poeta poliglota aparentemente nunca llegaria a ser otro Paravicino, orador en plan serio—por suerte nuestra. E n prosa y en forma manuscrita se haria polemicista pro-ortodoxia mosaica. Ahora bien, al contrario, como ingenio del Siglo Brown, Κ.-den Boer, Η. Abraham Gáme^ Sitveira (Arévalo, prov. de Avila, Castilla 1656-Amsterdam 1741): el Quevedo sefardi. Estudio preliminar, obras tiricas, vejámenes en prosa y verso, y documentation personaL Kassel: Reichenberger (en prensa).

de Oro, pero desde la periferia de los países del norte, se haría un académico del Amstel, un forjador de versos de cabo roto en su Historia de Sabbatai Sevi, asi imitando al Cervantes de los preliminares del Quixote del 1605; un poeta de la digresiôn absurda, arte este aprendido en las prosas de Quevedo y transmidda a sus vejámenes rimados con fines homiléucos; y un secuaz gongorino empedernido. El librito de Sermones (1676) lo escribiô a la edad de veinte afios; en los 1730, cuando ya es septuagenario, escribe el siguiente epitafio como 1ápida funeraria para Reina Enriques Silva: "Yace en esta fria losa / la mas constante mujer, / de lo adverso supo hacer / motivo a lo virtuosa ... " (énfasis mio), asi recordando el dtulo de una obra de teatro que Pérez de Montalbân incluia en el Para todos de 1636. Genio y figura hasta la sepultura. La cuarta personalidad es Isabel Correa (m. ca. 1696), de Lisboa, Madrid y, luego Amsterdam, de quien actualmente se escribe bastante, pero de quien se sabe poco nuevo. 5 En una décima conceptual que hace poco pude idendficar, Miguel de Barrios la coloca como décima musa por encima del Monte Parnaso. 6 Vuelvo a contribuir a la escasa documentaciôn literaria sobre esta poedsa con un romance donde ella tal vez saiga retratada. Proviene del mismo manuscrito donde localicé el p r i m e r o y p a r e c e ser del m i s m o Barrios: 203v:

(5)

(10)

(15)

(20)

5

6

Por hermosa y por letrado sale en la estampa Isabel, libro de tan lindo cuerpo como de buen parecer. Punto es final su cabeça de la linea de su ser y Naturaleza que es pluma con pelo la formô bien. Es punto de admirasiôn pues esdngue Amor en él los senddos con que habla, las potencias con que ve. Côncabo por lo sublime cubre al juizio con que fiel hibanal dene en el seso quando apelô al ciego Rey. Su frente es plana sin letras de rapaz que por dar fe de tener llaneza altiva ciega al ver su candez. Cada ceja es un ce grande

Véanse de Lopez Estrada, F. 1994. "Isabel Rebeca Correa: Defensa de la mujer escritora en el Amsterdam sefardi del siglo XVII." En Los judai^antes en Europa y ta literatura castellana del Siglo de Oro. Madrid: Letrümero, 261-272; Idem, "Poética barroca. Ediciôn y estudio de los preliminares de Et Pastor Fido de Guarini, traducido por Isabel Correa (1694)." E n Hommage à Robert Jammes. Anejos de Criticôn 1, 739-753; e Idem, "Una voz de la Holanda hispánica sefardi: Isabel Rebeca Correa." En La creatividadfemeninay las trampas delpoder. Ed. Kassel: Reichenberger (en prensa). Véase Brown, Κ. con la colaboraciôn de Karau, S. "La Poétisa es la luna que con las de Apolo viene: nuevos datos sobre y textos de varias poétisas sefardies de los siglos XVII y XVIII." En La creatividadfemeninay tas trampas delpoder. Ed. Kassel: Reichenberger (en prensa).

con que 11amánd0me ayer

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por segar a letra vista alcé los ojos, alcé. Respirante abreviatura la puerta de su boz es de dos carreras de perlas con márgenes de clavel. Son del libro de su pecho fabla, las mexillas que dan senales encendidos de lo que haga a encender. 7

Mi hipôtesis es que Barrios "reciclara" un romance esqueleto que ya habia usado para una novia sefardita de la Comunidad como retrato de la poétisa su amiga, retrato éste que iba a agraciar la ediciôn de un libro suyo {{El Pastor Fido? /‫׳‬,S1798 S1829 E1860a B1861 V1892ab S 1 8 9 3 j feto-, todas salvo SI798 S1803 de largo. 50 L1875 L1902 que-, S1800 S1829 le pue, B1861 S1866 J1884 J1885 B1889 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 k fue, SI 803 me por, S1798 E1860abc L1875 E1880 S1893 L1902 E1913 muncho, S1803 mugo, S1800 S1829 B1861 SI866 J1884 J1885 B1889 V1892ab C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 muy. 51 S1800 Porim. 52 A partir de aqui no disponemos de S1800. 53 E1860bc E l 8 8 0 V1892b E 1 9 1 3 y a 10 encolgan, J1885 C1923 que 10 colguen, S1798 tocolguen, S1803 locolgan, E1860a B1861 B1889 V1892a S1893 to encotguen, L1875 L1902 10 ‫״־״‬%‫»״‬, J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 10 col· guin, Sj1932 10 enforken-, S1798 S1803 S1829 E1860abc E1880 J1884 J1885 V1892b aél·, S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 om. alla. 54 E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 C1923 om.y, Sj1932 sc-, todas salvo S1798 S1803 S1829 queres. 55 S1798 S1829 S1866 J1884 J1885 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 a mariana. 56 S1798 S1803 ogo. C l 9 2 3 οίο-, C1923 canta. 57 Sj1932jamami. 58 S1798 Porim. 59 S1803 Higo-, B1861 L1875 E1880J1885 B1889 V1892ab L1902 E1913 C1923 stürm. «‫ ·י‬E l 8 6 0 a S1866 S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 norr, L1875 L1902 otn. urr, S1803 agueno, J1884 astno. 61 B1889 paratr, S1798 S1803 S1829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 B1889 V1892ab S1893 L 1 9 0 2 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 loque, Sj1932 tukr, S1829 S1866 Sj1932 bueno. 62 S1803 endegar, Sj1932 endilar, L1875 L1902 llorarmuncho-, S1798 Porim. 63 S1803 E1860a S1893 Ytú, Sj1932 me /; S1803 %>,J1884 hiŠ0. 64 S1798 vinimos. 65 L1902 de Agagoer, S1829 S1866 Sj1932 muestra, E1860bc E1880 V1892b E1913 nuestra; C1923 ra%a. 66 Ε1860a S1866 S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 non; S1798 Porim. 49

67 68 69 70

71

72 73 74 75

76

77 78

79 80

81

82

83

16

Enrecíate tú, Arisay,67 como Ahimán y Šišay, véngate de Ben-Yišay 68 y gásta1es el Purim." 69

17

Despoés vino Ariday7O llorando con mucho goay,71 para modre Mordejay 72 enforcáse en Purim. 73

18

Despoés vino Vai2ata:74 "Lo que a mi mâs me mata 75 quedarme mi facha alta76 encolgado en Purim." 77

19

La su mujer le decia 78 qué era esta alferecia, 79 con Mordejay qué tenia a tomarse en Purim. 80

20

"Calla tú, Zereš la loca, a ti hablar no te toca,81 por ti odreni la força 82 y me la estreni en Purim." 83

J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 C l 9 2 3 o m . tu. Sj1932 vengati. S1 S0ijgástales, Sj 1932 igasta 1er, J1884 al. S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 Después, B1861 B1889 V1892a C1923 Denpuir, L1902 o m . vino·, B1861 B1889 V1892ab Sj1932^1 risqy. S1803 mugo, S1798 S1829 E1860abc B1861 L1875 E 1 8 8 0 J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892a S1893 L I 9 0 2 E l 9 1 3 C l 9 2 3 muncho-, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932guqy. E 1 8 6 0 b c E 1 8 8 0 E 1 9 1 3 por modre de, Sj1932 poramorde. J 1 8 8 5 E 1 9 1 3 C1923 Sj1932 se enforce, S1803 enporcose,) 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 enforcôse. L1875 L1902 Y después, S1829 S1866 Sj1932 Después, B1861 B1889 V1892a Denpués. S1803 S1829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 L1875 E 1 8 8 0 J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892ab S1893 L1902 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Loque, Sj1932 Luke, todas salvo L1875 L1902 Sj1932 ami, E 1 8 6 0 a b c E 1 8 8 0 E 1 9 1 3 o m . mar, SI 893 me mâs mata. B1861 V1892ab quedar conmi, B1889 Sj1932 quedar con mi, E 1 9 1 3 quedar ml·, S1798 S1829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 L1875 E l 8 8 0 J1884 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892a L1902 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 pacha, S1803 posa, E 1 9 1 3 paga. J 1 8 8 5 S1893 C1923 encolgando; Β1889 el·, S1803 Porim. E1860abc L1875 E 1 8 8 0 L1902 E 1 9 1 3 Sj1932 o m . sir, S1803 muguer, J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 mojer, L1875 L1902 me le decia, S1803 ledecia, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 le dicia. S1798 a/fertciya, S1829 Sj1932 alferiäa, S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 alfiricia. S1803 SI 829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 E l 880 j 1884 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892a S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 atomarse, Sj 1932 a tomarsi. T o d a s salvo L1875 L1902 Sj1932 ati-, S1893 habla, E1860a S1893 non te t., V 1 8 9 2 b note t., J1884 no tetoca. L1875 J1885 L1902 C1923 que por ti, B1861 E 1 8 8 0 B1889 V1892ab porte, S1829 E1860a S1866 J1884 J1885 V 1 8 9 2 b S1893 E 1 9 1 3 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 ordenr, S1803 porca, S1829 B1861 S1866 J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892ab C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 borca. E l 860a J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 S 1 8 9 3 j w S 1 8 2 9 j .«ώ, S1866 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 j ^ e la, S1798 S 1 8 0 3 j / w / ‫; ״‬ S1829 E1860a S1866 J1884 J1885 S1893 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 1strená, Sj1932 estrini.

21

Vino su hija Remor: 84 "Despoés de tanta amor, 85 colgarlo como un hamor 86 mandé Ahasveros en Purim. 87

22 88 La mano me se tullera89 coando echi el bacin de medra." 90 De la ventana en riera91 se echô en dia de Purim. 92

84 85 86

87 88 89 90

91

92

93 94 95 96 97 98 99

100 101

23

Y Šimši el escribano se mataba con su mano, 93 avoltaba roto y sano, sienpre salia Purim. 94

24

Los amigos le hablaban, con esto lo amargaban, 95 "Yisrael bien se alaban 96 por d en este Purim." 97

25

Al cabo lo suntrujeron 98 que enforcar lo quiseron, 99 "jisa, isa!" le dijeron, 100 lo colgaron en Purim. 101

E l 860a S1893 V. asu b, S1803 higtr, S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Rimor. SI 829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj 1932 Después, B1861 B1889 VI 892a Denpués. E1860abc L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 S1893 L1902 E1913 cotgaldo, C1923 colgado, Sj1932 enkongaldo. S1798 Porim. S1893 E1913 om. estr. SI803 mesetullera, S1829 S1866 L1875 J1884 J1885 L1902 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 se le t., Sj1932 mise t. S1803 mande, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 cuando-, S1803 egui, L1875 J1885 L1902 C1923 ech&, J1884 a/b, B1861 B1889 V1892ab e! b. atiera, L1875 L1902 el b. en /‫·״‬ra.J1885 C1923 elb. de medra. S1803 E1860bc S1866 L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 L1902 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Delà, E1860abc E1880 a liera-, B1861 B1889 V1892ab 22cy esto no aconteciera (Sj1932 akuntisera), L1875 L1902 22c De la v. se echo en t. / areventô como puerca. S1803 ego-, E1860bc E1880 om. dia de-, B1861 L1875 B1889 V1892ab L1902 22d enel dia de P. (Sj1932 en et)-, S1798 Porim. Cl 923 om. 23b-, E1860bc B1861 E1880 V1892a consu mano, E1860a S1893 con sus manos. L1875 E l 8 8 0 V1892b L1902 E1913 C1923 Sj1932 siempre-, B1861 B1889 V1892ab Sj1932 J. en P. J1884 amargaban, J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 amargaban. E1860abc E1880 E1913 om. bien. B1861 V1892ab portr, J1885 C1923 en e. dia de P. Todas Alcabo-, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 sontrujeron, E1860bc E1880 E1913 trujeron. S1798 S1803 J1884 enporcar, E1860a B1889 enforcar, J1885 enforvcar, S1798 S1803 quiguervn, Sj 1932 ke^eron. S1803 ledijeron, Sj1932 le deiewn. E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 ίο encotgarvn, B1861 L1875 B1889 V1892ab L1902 Sj1932 10 enforcaron.

Glosario102 Adaliá (12a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.], Agag (5b, 15c): el antepasado de Amán [hb.]. Ahaívemi(21d): "Asuero" [hb.]. Ahimán (16b): uno de los gigantes de Palesdna [hb.]. alfereäa (19b): "perlesia, hemiplejia" [cf. DRAE]. Aridata (13c): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Ariday (17a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Aspata (8a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. barin (22b): "orinal" [cf. DRAEj. Ben-Yišay (16c): uno de los nombres que recibe Mardoqueo [hb.]. cabristo (3c): "ronzal" [cf. DCECH, s.v. cabestro]. Dalfin (7a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.], enmentar (3b): "hacer mention." facha (18c): "cara" [it.facria]. gastar (16d): "estropear, corromper" [Romero 1979: 3, 1233] hamor (3d, 21c): "asno" [hb.], 'icar, el(3a): "lo importante, lo esencial" [hb.], isa (25c): "grito para incitar, animar a hacer algo." manäa (8b): "pena" [cf. DRAE, s.v. mancilla\. mania (8c): "brazalete, puisera" [cf. DRAE, s.v. manilla]. matarse (23b): "pegarse." modre, para/por (17c): "a causa de." Mordejay (17c, 19c): "Mardoqueo" [hb.]. negro (7b): "malo." Parmaita (15a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Paršandata (5a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Porata (10a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. rasta (15c): "linaje." reayá (12c): "prueba, senal" [hb.]. registo (3 b): "vergüenza" [cf. DCECH, s.v. gesto). Remor(21a): hija de Amán [hb.]. šal0m (15d): "paz" [hb.], sehora (13b): "tristeza" [hb. mará χ.]. SimŠi (23a): escribano del rey Asuero [hb.]. Šišay (16b): uno de los gigantes de Palesdna [hb.]. sontraer (25a): "arras trar." ta'anit (9d): "ayuno" [hb.]. tomarse con, a (19d): "enfadarse, renir." Vaiyata (18a): uno de los hijos de Aman [hb.]. Zera' (lc): "descendencia, descendiente" [hb.]. Zeres" (20a): mujer de Amán [hb.].

102

Entre paréntesis indicamos la estrofa y el verso en el que aparece la entrada. Entre corchetes senalamos la procedencia lingüisdca del término: [hb.] = hebreo, e [it.] = italiano.

Bibliografia Bunis, D.M. 1974. The Historical Development of Jude^mo Orthography: A brief sketch. New York: YIVO Institute. , 1975. A Guide to Reading and Writing Jude^mo. New York: The Judezmo Society. Carracedo, L. 1981. "Textos purimicos de carácter burlesco." En Actos de las Jornadas de Estudios Sefardies, 123—130. Cáceres: Universidad de Extremadura. Corominas, J., y Pascual, J. A. 1980. Diccionario critico etimolôgico castellano e hispänico. Madrid: Gredos. Hassán, I. M. 1976. Las copias de Purim. Universidad Complutense. Madrid. Tesis Doctoral inédita. , 1978. "Transcription normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Estudios Sefardies I, 147-150. , 1988. "Sistemas graficos del espanol sefardi." En Adas de I Congreso International de Historia de la Lengua Espanola, 127-137. Madrid: Arco Libro. Nehama, J. 1977. Dictionnaire dujudéo-espagnol. Madrid: CSIC. Prieto Prieto, R. 1995. "Algunas consideraciones acerca de las copias sefardies de carácter burlesco." Cuadernos de! La^arillo 8, 59-60. Salamanca: Colegio de Espana. Prieto Prieto, R. 1997. Edition y estudio de la copiajudeoespanola burlesca de Purim: E! testamento de Aman. Universidad de Valladolid. Memoria de Licenciatura, inédita. Real Academia Espanola. 1992. Diccionario de la lengua espanola. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 21* Ediciôn. Romero, E. 1979. El teatro de los sefardies orientales. 3 vols. Madrid: CSIC. , 1981. "Las copias sefardies: categorias y estado de la cuesdôn." En Actus de las]0rt1adas de Estudios Sefardies, 69-98. Cáceres: Universidad de Extremadura. , 1989. La ley en ta leyenda: Relates de tema biblico en tasfuentes hebreas. Madrid: CSIC. , 1992. Bibliografia analitica de ediciones de copias sefardies. Madrid: CSIC.

PROCESO DE RECASTELLANIZACIÔN DEL J U D E S M O ALDINA QUINTANA RODRIGUEZ* T h e Hebrew University, Jerusalem, Israel

Resumen La présente comunicaciôn trata del proceso de recastellanizaciôn del judesmo y del consecuente abandono de elementos turcos, hebreos y franceses en la lengua de los sefardies; también explica algunos de los factores que ocasionan dicho proceso. Asi mismo se invesdgan la conciencia lingüisdca de los sefardies sobre las lenguas que emplearon y emplean, asi c o m o los cambios que en este senudo fueron teniendo lugar desde el siglo XVI. Finalmente se analizan algunos de los instrumentos lingüisucos utilizados por autores sefardies en el proceso de recastellanizaciôn de la lengua escrita.

Conciencia lingiiistica de los sefardies La conciencia lingüisdca que los sefardies poseen de las lenguas por ellos usadas, debe ser analizada desde una triple perspecdva que varia según la época y las circunstancias extralingüisdcas. E n funciôn de la situaciôn de diglosia hebreo-judesmo, 1 caracterisuca de los sefardies entre los siglos XVI y XIX, al hebreo (Lesbon ha-Kodesh) le es asignado el papel de la lengua del pueblo judio. Al judesmo le es concedido solamente el calificativo de "lengua ajena," especialmente en el siglo XVI. 2 D e esta relation 3 résulta el siguiente esquema:

*

1

2

3

HEBREO

-*

Lesbon ha-Kodesb

‫>־‬

Nuestra Lengua Santa

LADINO

‫»־‬

a von (-pecado)

‫»־־‬

lengua ajena

Munchas grasias alos miembros del Konsejo de La Au ion dad Nasiona/a de! Lidino de Israel por el ayudo material emprestado. De mezmo grasias a los safranim de la Biblioteka Ben Tsvi de Yerushalayim ke kon grande pasensia me emprestan tantas goyas sefaradis. Salud i vidas largas a todos eyos! Aunque el nombre que con más frecuencia usan los sefardies es ladino, mantenemos aqui el término judesmo, siguiendo la tradiciôn establecida por el Prof. David M. Bunis en la Universidad Hebrea de Jerusalén. Véanse las Hakdamoth de las siguientes obras del siglo 16: - R a b i n o Moshe Almosnino: Livro entilolado Regimien/o de la Vida. Salônica 1564, p. 13 de la Hakdama. -Bahye Ibn Pakuda: Sefer Hovoth ha-Levavoth. Trad, en ladino de S. b. Y. Formon. Salônica 1567, portada. -SeferShulhan ha-Panim. Salônica 1568, pp. 4a-4b de la Hakdamá. Las mujeres quedan fueran de esta situaciôn de diglosia. Sus conocimientos de hebreo, en general, eran muy reducidos.

En relaciôn al Espanol de la Peninsula solamente entrado el siglo XVIII, los sefardies son conscientes de hablar una variedad diferente de aquélla, como se desprende de los comentarios de Yakov Khuli en la Hakdamâ del volumen Bereshith de Me'am Lo'e% (Estambul: 1732) donde afirma que sus " 'avlas son muys seradas... ke 'aun ke syerto 'es ke 10 suyo 'es 10 dereco 'i vedradero, pero syendo la gente de 'estas partes no 10 'entyenden, no puede 'aprovecarse de 'el..."* cuando se refiere a las obras publicadas en el siglo XVI. E incluso mâs déterminante es David Atdas en La Gwerta de Oro (Livorno 1778), cuando habla de "nuesa lengua espanyola levant.ina'' h Tengamos aqui en cuenta que nos encontramos de lleno dentro del llamado siglo de oro de la literatura sefardi. El papel del judesmo frente a otras lenguas, aparte del hebreo, se plantea por primera vez en el siglo XIX, sobre todo después de la publication de la reforma de Tanqjmat en 1839. Durante la primera mitad del siglo XIX además de continuar apareciendo obras en judesmo, se publican también diversos métodos para la ensenanza de otras lenguas, y sobre todo para la ensenanza del hebreo a los nifios sefardies. 6 El rabino Eliezer Papo estuvo a punto de publicar su obra Pelé Yoets (1824) en judesmo. Finalmente se decidiô por la lengua hebrea, debido a que queria que la obra fuera también usada fuera de la comunidad sefardi. Pero en 1870 (vol. I) y 1972 (vol. II) aparecieron en Viena sendos volûmenes en ladino. 7 Por la reforma de Tan^mat se concedia a las minorias la igualdad de derechos con los musulmanes. Después de la derrota de Imperio Otomano por las potencias occidentales, comenzô la occidentalizaciôn otomana con la consiguiente secularization de la sociedad. Francia era entonces el modelo a seguir. Los sefardies tampoco permanecieron ajenos a estas influencias que ocasionaron el surgimiento de tendencias lingtiisticas y literarias nuevas, como puede ser el desarrollo de la prensa secular y la creation y publication de obras de contenido laico. La caracteristica preocupaciôn lingüistica occidental por el "buen uso de la lengua" se manifiesta, por ejemplo, en Shaare Mi^rah (Edirne 1845), uno de los primeros periôdicos sefardies. Su director se quejaba de la mestura del judesmo y de la pérdida de la homogeneidad lingüistica entre las comunidades sefardies,8 e identificaba como verdadera lengua espanola, la hablada en la Peninsula: ... ke del dia ke nwestros tigos salyeron de la Espanya rompyeron la vedradera lingwa espanyola < i > la fweron pratikado kada uno segûn le venia. I era por razôn ke eyos tenian tantas kozas ke pensar otro ke la lingwa... I de entonses kaminaron ansi de manera ke se pedryô e la konosensya de la vedradera lingwa espanyola... 9

4 5 6

7 8

9

Khuli, Y. 1732. Me'am Lo'e% Bereshith. Hakdamâ. Estambul. Attias, D. b. M. 1778. La Gwerta de Oro. Livorno, en la Hakdamâ del autor. Véanse a este respecto el método para los morim de Yisrael b. Hayim de Belogrado: Hattox taNaar. Viena 1821, y varios libros de ensenanza de hebreo para los metamde tinokoth de Yehuda Alkalay publicados entre 1839 y 1840. Véase la Hakdamâ del traductor al ladino, Yehuda Eliezer Papo de Papo 1870: 3. Véase a este respecto lo que escribia el director de S haare Mibrox. 30 Kislev 5606 [29.12.1845], Hakdamâ del komponedor, 1. Reproducido y transcrito en Bunis 1992: 48. Cf. ant., 1.

Otro acontecimiento decisivo que puso en contacto al judesmo con otras lenguas, fue la independencia de los estados nacionales que componian el andguo Imperio Otomano, lograda en el ultimo tercio del siglo XIX y principios el 20 que, por primera vez, obligaba a los sefardies a aprender la respecdva lengua nacional. El turco aunque habia sido la lengua oficial del imperio, no habia sido lengua obligatoria de las minorias, de manera que a principios del présente siglo, solo una minoria sefardi lo hablaba, como nos muestra el considerable numéro de textos legales traducidos del turco al judesmo después de la introduction de la reforma de Tamgmat.

Precedentes de la "recastellanizaciôn " El castellano de los anusim El castellano, llevado por los anusim llegados al Imperio Otomano casi sin interrupciôn desde el siglo XVI, dejô ciertas huellas en algunas de las variedades lingüisdcas de los sefardies, sobre todo en la de Estambul (v.gr., uso de muchas palabras sin la/etimolôgica ladna).

El castellano de los Protestantes Después de la reforma de Tanymat se permidô la entrada de misioneros protestantes en el Imperio Otomano. Sus intenciones eran de carácter proselitista. Para ello, su primera labor fue la publication de traducciones biblicas y de libros sobre crisdanismo y educaciôn, manuales y periôdicos, en una mezcla de castellano-judesmo, ausente de cualquier elemento turco, hebreo o de otra lengua. Parece que la misiôn no tuvo mucho éxito, aunque si sirviô para poner a los sefardies en contacto con géneros literarios seculares y con muchos fenômenos lingüisdcos del espanol moderno, desconocidos antes por los sefardies. 10 Por ejemplo, la terminologia édco-religiosa crisdana suele susdtuir en las obras de temas religiosos, a la propia usada por los sefardies: sabado (sabath), biblya (tanach), trompeta (sofar o kwerno), primogenito (bechor ο mayor)... 11

La Haskalâ La Haskalâ ocasionô el surgimiento de los primeras entusiastas sefardies partidarios del uso del castellano moderno. En Viena el periodista Josef Kalwo en 1867 fue el primero en proponer una susdtuciôn del judesmo por el castellano moderno. 12 En 1885 comenzô a publicarse en Turnu-Severin (Rumania) el "Lucero de la Paciencia" (en lugar de pasensia) bajo la direction del rabino L. M. Crispin. La grafia ladna y la importante presencia de formas castellanas (Dios por el Dio; médias por calsas; sombrero por chapello, etc.), asi como la sufijaciôn (apaniateis o arepudiaeis, estaeis) son las caracterîsdcas más notorias de esta temprana publication recastellanizada.

10 11 12

Véase a este respecto Bunis 1993: 425-426, y Bunis 1996: 228-229. Ejemplos en Tomson 1886. Citado en Bunis 1996: 229.

Los jôvenes sefardies vieneses veian en la conservaciôn de la lengua espanola entre los sefardies, la ûnica posibilidad de sobrevivir culturalmente como judios en medio de las sociedades nacionales en las que habitaban, asi como de pervivir como grupo con idenddad propia frente a otros grupos judios. Este era uno de los fines que tenia la sociedad académica por ellos creada el 24 de julio de 1897, bajo el nombre de "La Esperanza," que un ano más tarde impulsô la creaciôn del periôdico "El Progreso" en letras ladnas y que finalmente en 1890 se planteô el acercamiento al castellano para "purificar y perfeccionar" su "lengua madré," cuyo primer paso para ello debia de ser el uso de las letras ladnas, porque el judesmo contenia, "grande abondancia dey erras j faltas, especialmente causados por las letras hebraicas ... empleadas en el escribir.. ."13

L'Alliance Israélite Universelle y el "judeo-fragnol" Aun más trascendencia lingüisdca que el contacto de los misioneros protestantes con las comunidades sefardies o la influencia de la Haskalâ, tuvo la apertura de escuelas de L'Alliance Israélite Universelle en 1860. Las primeras discusiones pûblicas en pro o en contra del uso del judeo-espanol, como los alumnos de L'Alliance Israélite Universelle lo empezaron a llamar, tuvieron lugar en las comunidades sefardies del sur (Salônica, Estambul, Esmirna...). L'Alliance Israélite Universelle relacionaba al judesmo con la situaciôn de ignorancia y miseria, en la que, segûn sus dirigentes, vivian los judios en Oriente y lo comenzaron a llamar: "jargon, jerga, lengua corrompida, jerga corrompida, lengua bastarda..." Sin embargo, este "judéo-fragnol," segûn el término propuesto por H. V. Sephiha, 14 ahora con una masiva cantidad de términos franceses espanolizados que habian susdtuido a los turquismos y a los hebraismos contenidos en el léxico de los sefardies, seguiria siendo la variedad usada por los propios ex-alumnos de L'Alliance Israélite en la prensa y en su production literaria sin disdnciôn de géneros. La introduction del género periodisdco dene aqui como consecuencia el surgimiento de un nuevo estilo que usa predominantemente construcciones verbales pasivas, poco usadas hasta enfonces en la variedad espanola de los sefardies. La estructura de la oration pasiva es la misma que en espanol moderno. Ciertos "gazeteros" toman incluso nexos oracionales del espanol moderno en lugar de los franceses. Una forma conocida en ladino era "el kualo /la kuala"— pero que no tenia mucho uso—se emplearà ahora con excesiva frecuencia al lado del pronombre reladvo kuyos/kuyas (en lugar de *lekel, *lakel [lequel, laque//