History of the Jews, Vol. 4 (of 6)

by Heinrich Graetz

1500–1538 C.E.

It is astonishing, yet not astonishing, that the surging movement, the convulsive heaving that shook the Christian world from pole to pole in the first quarter of the sixteenth century scarcely touched the inner life of the Jews. Whilst among Christians a radical change took place, in thought, customs, studies, and even in language; whilst their ancient customs and usages were rejected or put aside in some places, and in others freshened up; in a word, whilst a new era started, everything remained unchanged with the Jews. Having had no "Middle Ages," they needed no new epoch. They needed no regeneration, they had no immoral course of life to redress, no cankering corruption to cure, no dam to raise against the insolence and rapacity of their spiritual guides. They had not so much rubbish to clear away. It must not be imagined, however, that within the pale of Judaism all was bright. The refining and civilizing thoughts of Judaism had not yet gained the upper hand. The people were wanting in spirituality, their guides in clearness of mind. Reliance on justification by works and scholastic sophistry were prevalent also among Jews. In the synagogue service spirituality was missing, and honesty in the world of business. The ritual retained all received from olden times, and became filled with unintelligible elements, so that, on the whole, it acquired an unattractive character. Sermons were unknown in German congregations and their offshoots; at best, Talmudical discourses, utterly unintelligible to the people, especially to women, and, therefore, leaving them cold and uninterested, were delivered. The Spanish and Portuguese preachers spoke in the beautiful language of their country, but their sermons were so full of pedantry that they were no more easily understood by the laity.

The breaking up of Jewish congregations into national groups was also a misfortune. The persecution of the Jews had thrown into the large towns of Italy and Turkey fugitives from the Pyrenees and from Germany, who failed to unite themselves with the existing congregations, yet did not amalgamate with each other. There were, therefore, in many towns, not only Italian, Romanic (Greek), Spanish, Portuguese, German, and, now and again, Moorish (African) congregations, but of each almost as many as there were provinces and towns in each country. For example, in Constantinople, Adrianople, Salonica, Arta (Larta) in Greece, and many other towns, there was a large variety of congregations, each of which had its own directors, ritual, rabbi, academy, charities, its own prejudices and jealousies. In the face of such division, nothing for the public benefit or general good could be accomplished. The spiritual leaders, although generally moral, and, as a rule, sincerely and fervently religious, humbled themselves before the rich members of their congregation, witnessing insolence and misconduct without daring to reprove them.

Worse than this splitting up into tiny congregations was the faintness, the narrow-mindedness, the self-abasement, not merely of German Jews, but of the Sephardic exiles. Only when it was necessary to die for the faith of their fathers did they show themselves heroic and full of courage; at other times their activity was expended on petty concerns. No new course was taken, not even at sight of the daily changes of the Christian world. The few who maintained themselves on the heights of science kept to the beaten track, served but to level it still more. The ruling idea was to elucidate old thoughts and old thinkers, and to write commentaries, yea, even super-commentaries. The Talmudists explained the Talmud, and the philosophical inquirers Maimuni's "Guide." Higher flight of fancy and greater spiritual insight were not possible. No sound of real poetry came from the lips of those nourished on it, not even a thrilling song of lamentation, putting their grief into words. The only circumstance testifying to change of position and times was interest in historical research, and that was almost entirely confined to the Jews of Pyrenean descent. The endless suffering which they had endured, they wished to preserve for future generations. Present misery brought before them the sorrows of early ages, and showed them that the history of the Jewish race was one long course of painful martyrdom.

Otherwise there was nothing new at this period. Freedom of philosophical inquiry was not favored. Isaac Abrabanel, the transmitter of the old Spanish Hebrew spirit, found in Maimuni's philosophical writings many heresies opposed to Judaism, and he condemned the free-thinking commentators who went beyond tradition. A Portuguese fugitive, Joseph Jaabez, laid on philosophy the blame for the expulsion of the Jews from Spain and Portugal. Free-thinking was the sin which had led Israel astray; thereon must the greatest restriction be laid.

A fresh spirit breathes in the philosophical work of the talented Leon Abrabanel, or Medigo. Its title, "Dialogues of Love" (Dialoghi d'amore), tells the reader that it is not tainted with the insipidity of commonplace philosophy. No one can better show the elasticity of the Jewish mind than this scion of the ancient noble family of Abrabanel. Torn from a comfortable home, thrown into a strange land, leading an unsettled life in Italy, his heart tortured by gnawing pain for the living death of his first-born, who had been snatched from him, Leon Medigo had enough intellectual strength to immerse himself in the Italian language and literature, and reduce his scattered philosophical ideas to perfect order. Hardly ten years after his flight from Spain he might have passed for a learned Italian, rivaling in style the polished writers of the Medici era, and even excelling them in extent of learning. With the same pen with which he wrote Hebrew verses to his son, who was being educated in sham Christianity in Portugal, admonishing him, "Remain continually mindful of Judaism, cherish the Hebrew language and literature, and keep ever before thee the grief of thy father, the pain of thy mother," he wrote his "Dialogues of Love," the outpourings of Philo's deep love for Sophia. This ostensible romance is the keynote of Leon Medigo's philosophical system, which sounds more like a philosophical idyll than a logical system. There is more imagination than reality, and his reflections are suggestive rather than true. Possibly Leon Medigo put his deeper thoughts into a work, now lost, entitled the "Harmony of Heaven." His "Dialogues of Love" throughout was far removed from Judaism. Leon Medigo paid high honor to "Hebrew truth," and endeavored to uphold the scriptural doctrine of creation out of chaos, in opposition to the principles of Greek philosophy, but he did not penetrate to the true spirit of Judaism. Therefore his work was valued by Christians more than by Jews. The Italians were proud to see—it was the first time—philosophical thought laid down in their own enthusiastically beloved language. The work became the favorite reading of the educated class, and in the space of twenty years went through five editions.

The Kabbala with its futilities soon took possession of minds no longer accustomed to strict logical discipline, and in a measure it filled the void. In the sixteenth century it first began to have sway over men's minds. Its adversaries were dead, or indisposed to place themselves in opposition to the ideas of the age, only too strongly inclined to mysteries, paradoxes and irrational fancies. Sephardic fugitives, Judah Chayyat, Baruch of Benevento, Abraham Levi, Meïr ben Gabbai, Ibn-Abi Zimra, had brought the Kabbala to Italy and Turkey, and with extraordinary energy won zealous adherents for it. Also, the enthusiasm felt for the Kabbala by Christian scholars, such as Egidio de Viterbo, Reuchlin, Galatino, and others, reacted upon the Jews. The doctrine, they reasoned, must have some deep truth in it, if it is so sought for by noble Christians. Preacher-Kabbalists expounded the doctrine from the pulpit, which had not been done before. On questions of ritual the Kabbalist writings were consulted, often as final authorities. No wonder that typical elements of the Zohar crept into the liturgy, conferring upon it a mystical character. With bold presumption the Kabbalists asserted that they alone were in possession of the Mosaic tradition, and that the Talmud and the rabbis must give place to them. In this way the secret doctrine with its tricks and fancies, which had hitherto unsettled only some few adepts, became known amongst all the Jews, and affected the sober minds of the people. The opposition of the rabbis to this interference in the ritual and religious life was rather weak, as they themselves were convinced of the sanctity of the Kabbala, and objected to the innovations only in a faint-hearted way.

The empty Kabbala could not fail to arouse enthusiasm in empty heads. With the Zoharist mystics, as with the Essenes, the expectation of the Messiah was the center of their system. To further the kingdom of the Messiah, or the kingdom of Heaven, or the kingdom of morality, and to predict, by means of letters and numbers, the exact time of its advent, was the labor in which they delighted. Isaac Abrabanel, although he did not favor the Kabbala, gave this Messianic enthusiasm his countenance. The accumulated sufferings of the few remaining Spanish and Portuguese Jews had broken the spirit of many, and robbed them of their hope of better times. The hopelessness and despair of his people, which, if they spread, would further the plans of the church, pained the faithful Isaac Abrabanel, and in order to counteract this dangerous tendency, he prepared three works, based upon the Bible (principally the Book of Daniel) and Agadic sayings, which, he believed, proved incontrovertibly that Israel would have a glorious future, and that a Messiah would unfailingly come. According to his reckoning, the advent of the Messiah must of necessity be in the year 1503, 5263 years after the creation of the world, and the end would come with the fall of Rome, about twenty-eight years later.

The support given to Messianic calculations by so thoughtful and respected a man as Isaac Abrabanel, together with Kabbalistic fancies, seems to have encouraged an enthusiast to predict the immediate realization of Messianic ideals. A German, Asher Lämmlein (or Lämmlin), appeared in Istria, near Venice, proclaiming himself a forerunner of the Messiah (1502). He announced that if the Jews would show great repentance, mortification, contrition and charity, the Messiah would not fail to come in six months. The people's minds, prepared by suffering and the Kabbalist craze, were susceptible to such convulsive expectations. Asher Lämmlein gained a troop of adherents, who spread his prophecies. In Italy and Germany he met with sympathy and belief. There was much fasting, much praying, much distribution of alms. It was called the "year of penitence." Everyone prepared himself for the beginning of the miracle. They counted so surely on redemption and return to Jerusalem that existing institutions were wilfully destroyed. The sober and thoughtful did not dare check this wild fanaticism. Even Christians are said to have believed in Asher Lämmlein's Messianic prophecy. But the prophet died, or suddenly disappeared, and with him the extravagant hopes came to an end.

But with the termination of the Lämmlein "year of penitence," the Jews by no means lost their hope in the Messiah; it was necessary to support them in their misery. The Kabbalists did not cease arousing this hope, ever and anon promising them its wonderful realization. Thirty years later a more important Messianic movement commenced, which, by reason of its extent and the persons implicated in it, was most interesting. The Marranos in Spain and Portugal played the principal part in it.