1105–1148 C. E.
The Jews of Spain, even those of Andalusia, could still consider this land of culture as their home. Even under the barbarous Almoravides, who had become masters of the south, they lived in security and peace, for these people were no fanatics. Only on one occasion did a prince of the Almoravides, named Yussuf Ibn-Teshufin, attempt to compel the Jews of his district to accept Islam. He was traveling through Lucena, and noted the populous Jewish community, which through Alfassi had become the most influential in Spain. The prince called together the representatives of the Jews, and announced to them that he had read that Mahomet had bestowed religious liberty on the Jews on condition that their expected Messiah should arrive within 500 years, and that if this space of time after the Hejira passed without his appearance, the Jews must, without opposition, accept Mahometanism; that the Jews of Mahomet's age had accepted the condition, and the time having now elapsed, he (Yussuf Ibn-Teshufin), the leader of the Faithful, expected them to fulfil the condition, or his protection would be withdrawn from them, and they would be outlawed. The Jews of Lucena, however, by gifts of money and through the intercession of his wise vizir, Abdallah Ibn-Allah, induced Yussuf to alter his intention.
Under the second ruler of the Almoravide dynasty, Ali (1106–1143), the Jews not only lived in peace, but some of them were entrusted with the collection of the poll-tax from Jewish and Christian inhabitants, and distinguished men received posts of honor at the court. Science and poetry were the qualifications for high dignities. A Jewish physician and poet, Abu Ayub (Solomon Ibn-Almuallem), of Seville, was the court-physician of the Caliph Ali, and bore the titles of prince and vizir. Alcharizi says that his verses rendered eloquent the lips of the dumb, and illuminated the eyes of the blind. The physician Abulhassan Abraham ben Meïr Ibn-Kamnial, of Saragossa, likewise occupied a high post at Ali's court, and also bore the title of vizir. The greatest poets of the time celebrated his nobility of soul, his generosity and his interest in the welfare of his co-religionists: "A prince who treads the earth, but whose aim is in the stars. He hastens like the lightning to do good, whilst others only creep along. The gates of his generosity are open to his compatriots and to strangers. Through his fortune he saved those doomed to death, and rescued the lives of those doomed to destruction. The prince (Ibn-Kamnial) is a protection and a guard unto his people; he dwells in Spain, but his loving-kindness reaches unto Babylon and Egypt." Abu Ishak Ibn-Mohajar also bore the title of vizir, and was similarly immortalized by the poets. The prince Solomon Ibn-Farussal, likewise praised by his contemporaries, appears to have been in the service of a Christian prince, and was entrusted with an embassy to the court of Murcia. Shortly before the battle of Ucles, at which the Mahometan forces obtained a signal victory over those of the Christians, Ibn-Farussal was murdered (1108, 20th Iyar—2nd May). The young Jehuda Halevi, who had composed a song of praise for the reception of the vizir, had to change it into an elegy on the mournful news of the vizir's murder.
An astronomical writer, Abraham ben Chiya Albargeloni (b. 1065, d. 1136), occupied a high position under another Mahometan prince. He was a sort of minister of police (Zachib as-Schorta), and bore the title of prince. He was held in high consideration by several rulers on account of his astronomical knowledge, and he debated with learned priests, to whom he demonstrated the accuracy of the Jewish calendar. But he also practised the pseudo-science of astrology, and drew a horoscope of favorable and unfavorable hours of the day. He calculated in the same way that the Messiah would appear in the year 5118 of the world (1358 C. E.).
Thus men of influence and knowledge were not wanting at this period in Spain, but none of them acted as a center, like Chasdaï Ibn-Shaprut and Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, from which might go forth the impetus that would rouse to activity slumbering talents, or mark out the road for literary efforts. The first half of the twelfth century produced a vast number of clever men in Jewish circles, poets, philosophers, Talmudists, and almost all their labors bore the stamp of perfection. The Jewish culture of this period resembled a garden, rich in odorous blossoms and luscious fruits, whose productions, though varied in color and taste, have their root in the same earth. The petty jealousy that rendered Menachem ben Saruk and Ibn-Gebirol unhappy, the inimical feelings existing between Ibn-Janach and Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, between Alfassi and Ibn-Albalia, were banished from this circle. The poets eulogized each other, and cordially praised the men that devoted their powers to other intellectual work. They took the greatest interest in one another's successes, consoled one another in misfortune, and regarded one another as members of one family. The cordial feeling which Jewish poets and men of learning entertained for one another is the completest testimony to their nobility of mind.
It is difficult in a history of these times to record and describe all the important personages. There were seven distinguished rabbis in this period, almost all disciples of Alfassi, who, besides studying Talmud, showed taste for poetry and science, and in part devoted themselves to these pursuits. In Cordova, Joseph ben Jacob Ibn-Sahal (born 1070, died 1124), a disciple of Ibn-Giat, was the rabbi. He appears to have met with trouble in his youth, and in his verses he complains that his own efforts have lacked appreciation, and that poetry in general is not honored. To Moses Ibn-Ezra, who was his bosom friend, he wrote a versified letter of lamentation. Ibn-Ezra, who also craved sympathy, consoled him in a poem written in the same rhyme and meter as Ibn-Sahal's. The verses are easy, flowing and smooth, though without much depth.
His successor in the rabbinate of Cordova, Abu-Amr Joseph ben Zadik Ibn-Zadik (born in 1080, died 1148–49), was even more celebrated. Although Ibn-Zadik is known as an expert Talmudist, his works are not Talmudic, but consist of philosophical treatises in the Arabic language. Ibn-Zadik dedicated his religio-philosophical work (Microcosmos) to a disciple who had asked to be instructed about the greatest good for which man can strive. The thoughts developed by Ibn-Zadik are by no means new, they were current in the Arabic philosophy of the times, but were modified by him so as to fit into the system of Judaism. Knowledge of self leads to knowledge of God, to a pure conception of the God-idea, and to the recognition that the world was created out of nothing by the divine will. This will is contained in Revelation, in the Torah; God revealed it to man, not on His own account, for He is rich, sufficient unto Himself, and without wants, but to promote man's happiness in the world beyond. The first duty of man, of the Jew, the servant of God, is to cultivate his mind and acquire wisdom and understanding, so that he may honor God in a worthy and spiritual manner, and gain the bliss of future happiness. Ibn-Zadik also remarks that the rites of Judaism, such as the observance of the Sabbath, are consonant with sense and divine wisdom. Man having free will, it is natural that God should mete out to him reward and punishment for his actions. The reward of the soul is its return to its source, the universal soul, and the only conceivable punishment is the sinful soul's failure to attain this end. The soul of the sinner, stained with earthly failings, cannot wing its flight to heaven, but flutters without rest about the world; and this is its punishment. Ibn-Zadik's philosophical work, bearing the stamp of mediocrity, was but little noticed by his contemporaries and successors. His fame as a poet was not great, although his liturgical and other verses are light and pleasing. They are not the outpourings of a poetic soul, but are to some extent a tribute to fashion.
Joseph ben Meïr Ibn-Migash Halevi (born 1077, died 1141) surpassed his contemporaries in mastery of the Talmud. Grandson of an important man at the court of the Abbadides in Seville, and son of a learned father, he became in his twelfth year a disciple of the school of Alfassi, whose lectures he attended uninterruptedly for fourteen years. When Ibn-Migash married (in 1100), Jehuda Halevi composed a glowing epithalamium for the young couple. Before his death Alfassi chose him as his successor, and by that act showed the nobility of his character; for although he left behind him a learned son, he preferred as his successor his gifted disciple. The wisdom of choosing a young man of six-and-twenty seems to have been questioned by some of the members of the congregation (Sivan, May, 1103). Joseph Ibn-Migash deserved the praise lavished on him for his intellectual and moral qualities. His descent from an ancient and noble family, his high position as chief of the most respected community, did not affect his modesty, nor did the dignity of his important office strip him of his humility. Mild, however, as was his character, he employed the utmost severity when the welfare of Judaism was in question.
Spain was at this time in an excited state, and split up into parties. In Andalusia the native Arabs were opposed to the victorious Almoravide Berbers, and they attacked each other in secret and in open war; the Christians (the Mozarabs) settled in the neighborhood of Granada conspired secretly against their Mahometan landlords, and summoning the conqueror of Saragossa, Alfonso of Aragon, promised to hand Granada over to him. Christian Spain was no less divided, though Castile and Aragon ought to have been united through the marriage of Alfonso of Aragon and Urraca, Queen of Castile. This unhappy marriage was the cause of anarchy. One party sided with the king, another with the queen, and a third with the young prince Alfonso VII, whose teacher had incited him against his mother and stepfather. Christians and Mahometans were frequently seen fighting under one standard, sometimes against a Christian prince, sometimes against a Mahometan emir. The making and breaking of treaties followed each other in quick succession. Deception and treachery occurred continually, and even the clergy of high position passed from party to party, and fought their former allies, or assisted their former enemies.
The Jews of Spain did not remain neutral, and either willingly or perforce joined the one or the other party, as their interests or political opinions dictated. When Mahometans or Christians conspired, they could, in case of discovery, take refuge with their powerful co-religionists. The Jews, however, did not enjoy such protection, and could only hold together for safety. Treachery in their midst was, therefore, most disastrous for them, as the anger of the enraged rulers not only struck the conspirators or their congregation, but the entire Jewish population of the country. When, therefore, a member of the congregation of Lucena on one occasion threatened to betray his co-religionists, the rabbi and judge, Joseph Ibn-Migash, determined to make an example of him. He condemned the traitor to be stoned to death at twilight on the Day of Atonement. Joseph Ibn-Migash left a learned son, Meïr (1144), and a large circle of disciples, amongst whom was Maimun of Cordova, whose son was destined to begin a new era in Jewish history.