History of the Jews, Vol. 3 (of 6)

by Heinrich Graetz

The Spanish Jews continued in this state of degradation until Egica's death. When his son Witiga followed him to the grave, the last hours of this empire were evidently at hand. The Jews of Africa, who at various times had emigrated thither from Spain, and their unlucky co-religionists of the Peninsula, made common cause with the Mahometan conqueror, Tarik, who brought over from Africa into Andalusia an army eager for the fray. After the battle of Xeres (July, 711), and the death of Roderic, the last of the Visigothic kings, the victorious Arabs pushed onward, and were everywhere supported by the Jews. In every city that they conquered the Moslem generals were able to leave but a small garrison of their own troops, as they had need of every man for the subjection of the country; they therefore confided them to the safe-keeping of the Jews. In this manner the Jews, who but lately had been serfs, now became the masters of the towns of Cordova, Granada, Malaga, and many others. When Tarik appeared before the capital, Toledo, he found it occupied by a small garrison only, the nobles and clergy having found safety in flight. While the Christians were in church, praying for the safety of their country and religion, the Jews flung open the gates to the victorious Arabs (Palm-Sunday, 712), receiving them with acclamations, and thus avenged themselves for the many miseries which had befallen them in the course of a century since the time of Reccared and Sisebut. The capital also was entrusted by Tarik to the custody of the Jews, while he pushed on in pursuit of the cowardly Visigoths, who had sought safety in flight, for the purpose of recovering from them the treasure which they had carried off.

Finally, when Muza Ibn-Nosair, the Governor of Africa, brought a second army into Spain and conquered other cities, he also delivered them into the custody of the Jews. It was under these favorable conditions that the Spanish Jews came under the rule of the Mahometans, and like their co-religionists in Babylonia and Persia, they were esteemed the allies of their rulers. They were kindly treated, obtained religious liberty, of which they had so long been deprived, were permitted to exercise jurisdiction over their co-religionists, and were obliged, like the conquered Christians, to pay only a poll-tax (Dsimma). Thus were they received into that great alliance, which, to a certain extent, united all the Jews of the Islamite empire into one commonwealth.

As the Mahometan empire grew in size, the activity of its Jewish inhabitants increased in proportion. The first Caliphs of the house of Ommiyyah, by reason of their continual wars with the descendants and comrades of Mahomet, with the fanatical upholders of the letter of the Koran, and with the partisans of the spiritual Imamate (high-priesthood), had become entirely free from that narrow-mindedness and mania for persecution which characterized the founder and the first two Caliphs. The following rulers of the Mahometans, Moawiyah, Yezid I., Abdul-Malik, Walid I., and Suliman (656–717), were far more worldly than spiritual; their political horizon was extensive, and they fettered themselves but little with the narrow precepts of the Koran and the traditions (Sunna). They loved Arabic poetry (Abdul-Malik was himself a poet), held knowledge in esteem, and rewarded the author quite as liberally as the soldier who fought for them. The Jewish inhabitants of Mahometan countries soon adopted the Arabic language. It is closely related, in many of its roots and forms, to Hebrew, with which language all of them were more or less familiar, and they needed a knowledge thereof, as it was the indispensable medium of communication. The enthusiasm which the Arabs felt for their language and its poetry, the care which they took to keep it pure, accurate and sonorous, had their effect upon the Jews, and taught them to employ correct forms of speech. During the six hundred years which had elapsed since the fall of the Jewish nation, the Jews had lost the sense of beauty and grace of expression; they were negligent in their speech, careless of purity of form, and indifferent to the clothing of their thoughts and emotions in suitable terms. A people possessed of an imperfect delivery, using a medley of Hebrew, Chaldee, and corrupt Greek, was not in a position to create a literature, much less to enchain the wayward muse of poetry. But, as already mentioned, the Jews of Arabia formed an exception. They acquired from their neighbors correct taste, and the art of framing their speech pleasantly and impressively. The Jewish tribes of Kainukaa and Nadhir, which had emigrated to Palestine and Syria, the Jews of Chaibar and Wadil-Kora, who had been transplanted to the region of Kufa and the center of the Gaonate, brought with them to their new home this love and taste for the poetical Arabic tongue, and gradually instilled them into their co-religionists. Hardly half a century after the occupation of Palestine and Persia by the Arabs, a Babylonian Jew was able to handle the Arabic language for literary purposes: the Jewish physician, Messer-Jawaih of Bassorah, translated a medical work from the Syriac into Arabic. Henceforward the Jews, together with the Syrian Christians, were the channels through which scientific literature reached the Arabs.

The enthusiasm of the Arabs for their language and the Koran evoked in the hearts of the Jews a similar sentiment for the Hebrew tongue and its holy records. Besides this, the Jews were now obliged to make closer acquaintance with the Scriptures, in order that they might not be put to the blush in their controversies with the Mahometans. Until now the talented men among them had turned their attention exclusively to the Talmud and the Agadic exposition, but necessity at last compelled them to return to the source, the Bible.

As soon, however, as it was desired to recover what had been lost for centuries, and to return with ardor to the study of Biblical literature, a need manifested itself which first had to be supplied. In supplying the Biblical text with the vowel signs invented in Babylonia or in Tiberias, it was necessary to proceed in such passages, as had not become familiar by frequent reading in public, according to grammatical rules. The Punctuators were obliged to be guided partly by tradition and partly by their sense of language. In this manner there arose the rudiments of two branches of knowledge: one treating of the above-mentioned rules of the Hebrew language, the other of the science of orthography, together with the exceptions as handed down by tradition (Massora). This apparently unimportant invention of adding certain strokes and points to the consonants thus led to the comprehension of the Holy Scriptures by the general public and the initiation of a more general knowledge of Judaism. By its help the holy language could now celebrate its revival; it was no longer a dead language employed only by scholars, but might become a means of educating the people. The auxiliary signs tended to break down the barrier between the learned (Chacham) and the unlearned (Am-ha-Arez).

An immediate consequence of contact with the Arabs and the study of the Holy Writ was the birth of neo-Hebraic poetry. Poetical natures naturally felt themselves impelled to make use of the copious Hebrew vocabulary in metrical compositions and polished verse, in the same manner as the Arabs had done with their language. But while the Arabic bards sang of the sword, of chivalry, of unbridled love, bewailed the loss of worldly possessions, and attacked with their satire such of their enemies as they could not reach with the sword, the newly-awakened Hebrew poetry knew of but one subject worthy of enthusiasm and adoration, God and His providence, of but one subject worthy of lament, the destitution and sorrows of the Jewish nation. The new-born Hebrew poetry, however different in form and matter from that of the Bible, had a religious foundation in common with it. The psalm of praise and the soul-afflicting dirge of lamentation were taken by the neo-Hebraic poets as their models. But a third element also claimed attention. Since the state had lost its independence, learning had become the soul of Judaism; religious deeds, if not accompanied by knowledge of the Law, were accounted of no worth. The main feature of the Sabbath and festival services was the reading of portions of the Law and the Prophets, the interpretation thereof by the Targumists and the explanation of the text by the Agadists (preachers of homilies). Neo-Hebraic poetry, if it was to reach the hearts of the people, could not be entirely devoid of a didactic element. The poet's only scene of action was the synagogue, his only audience, the congregation assembled for prayer and instruction, and his poetry, therefore, necessarily assumed a synagogical or liturgical character.

The poetical impulse was strengthened by practical necessity. The original divine service with its short and simple prayers was no longer sufficient. It was extended, it is true, by the recitation of psalms and appropriate liturgical compositions, but even this did not fill up the time which the congregation would gladly have spent in the house of God. This was especially felt on the New Year's festival and on the Day of Atonement, which were dedicated to deep devotion, and during the greater part of which the congregation remained in the house of prayer, contrite, and imploring forgiveness and redemption. It was evident that the divine service must be amplified, and more matter for meditation provided. In this manner arose the synagogical, or, as it was also called, the poetanic composition. At the head of the succession of neo-Hebraic poets stands José bar José Hayathom (or Haithom), whose works are not without true poetic ring, although devoid of artistic form. The date and nationality of this poet are entirely unknown, but it appears probable that he was a native of Palestine, and that he lived not earlier than the first Gaonic century.

José b. José took as the subject of his poems the emotions and memories which move a Jewish congregation on New Year's Day. On this occasion, the birthday of a new division of time, on which, according to Jewish ideas, the fate that the year has in store for men and communities is decided, God is extolled in a sublime poem as the mighty Master, the Creator of the world, the just Judge and the Redeemer of Israel. This poem, which was attached to the old prayers for the prescribed blowing of the cornet, and was intended to interpret them, embraces in a small compass the story of Israel's glorious past, its oppressed present, and promised future. José's poem is at once a psalm of triumph and of lamentation, interwoven with penitential prayers and words of hope. The resurrection is described in a few striking, picturesque lines.

Another and longer of José's poems has for its theme the ancient worship in the Temple on the Day of Atonement, which an attentive nation had once followed in devotional mood, and the description of which was well calculated to awaken the great memories of the glorious times of national independence (Abodah). It is a sort of liturgical epic, which describes simply, and without any lyrical strain, the creation of the universe and of man, the ungodliness of the first generation, Abraham's recognition of God, the election of his posterity as God's peculiar people, and the calling of Aaron's family to the service of the Temple. Arrived at the priesthood of Aaron, the poet, following the account of the Mishna, goes on to describe the duties of the high-priest in the Temple on the Day of Atonement, and concludes with the moment when the high-priest, accompanied by the whole nation, joyful and assured by visible signs of forgiveness, leaves the Temple for his home,—a beautiful fragment of the past, which has always awakened a powerful echo in the hearts of the Jewish people.

Elevation of thought and beauty of language are the characteristics of José b. José's poetry. His New Year's sonnets and Temple epic have become parts of the divine service of certain congregations, and have served as models for others. His verses are unrhymed and without meter, a proof of their great antiquity. The only artificial feature of his poetical works is the alphabetical or acrostic commencement of verses, for which several of the Psalms, Jeremiah's Lamentations, and the post-talmudical prayers served as models. In the first fruits of the new Hebraic poetry, form is completely subservient to the subject-matter. There has been preserved from ancient times another Abodah, ascribed to a poet named Simon ben Caipha. It appears to have been written in imitation of that of José b. José, but is greatly inferior to its model. However, it was honored by being adopted by the synagogue of the Gaonate. To the name of Simon Caipha, which sounds like the Jewish name of the apostle Peter, a peculiar legend is attached: The apostle, who supports the foundation of the Catholic Church, is represented as having written this Abodah in order to declare in the opening part his truly Jewish acknowledgment of God's unity, and to renounce his adherence to Jesus, as though the disciple who three times denied his Master had desired in this liturgical poem to attest his unbelief.