JUDEO-ARABIC LITERATURE, writings by Jews in Arabic, generally with Jewish coloring. It has been established that the idiom of this literature is linguistically closer to the spoken form of Arabic than is the idiom used in Muslim literature, which is a classical form. It may plausibly be assumed that prior to the rise of Islam in the early seventh century, the Jews who lived in the Arabian peninsula spoke Arabic and belonged to the more or less cultivated class, which may have included some writers. If this is so, almost nothing of their works has survived. The one Jewish poet whose work is extant, Samuel ibn Adiya, can be distinguished so little from his non-Jewish colleagues in theme, imagery, and style, that only history has preserved the knowledge of his Jewish identity. The writings of Muhammad, which contain a considerable amount of biblical and midrashic material, lead to the conclusion that the Torah and the Midrash were studied during the period, but concrete testimony is wanting.
The remarkable spread of Muslim domination over vast territories in Southwest Asia, North Africa, and Spain, and the diffusion of Arabic in these areas, did not leave the Jews unaffected. It may be surmised that Arabic gradually displaced the Aramaic vernacular, initially in the larger centers, and that the Jewish population began to use it in its everyday intercourse from about the beginning of the ninth century. The more inquiring Jews also began to acquire a knowledge of Arabic literature and science, which were undergoing a tremendous growth as a result of the large number of Greek, Syriac, Pahlavi, and Hindi works that had been translated into Arabic. The language became a storehouse for much of the world's knowledge and learning, and there was an upsurge of writing in Arabic on subjects which originated in other cultures. The participation of non-Arab Muslims and of other minorities in this activity was very great, and it likewise stimulated an intensive study of the imported learning among interested Jews. From the ninth century onward, there appeared in the Jewish communities under Muslim rule men who presumably received a traditional education, but who also turned their attentions to the recently developed or rediscovered areas of secular studies. They took a particular interest in medicine, mathematics, astrology and astronomy, and philosophy and theology. Of equal importance with their pursuit of these studies was the influence this acquaintance with foreign lore had on their understanding of their Jewish heritage. Not only did they introduce into Jewish culture the investigation of theology, secular Hebrew prose and poetry, Hebrew grammar and lexicography, they also subjected traditional areas to the rationalism and orderliness which they acquired from their excursions into foreign fields. In the biblical commentaries of the time, in the compilations of talmudic law and the expositions on diverse topics particularly relevant to the Jewish world, a novel organization and presentation of the material can be discerned.
Just as the Muslims of Spain for a time looked to the East for learning, and for scholars and literary personalities, so in Judeo-Arabic letters it was Babylonia, Palestine, and Egypt, the ancient centers of Jewish cultural activity, which were the first to flourish. Mashallah (770–820) of Egypt was an astrologer and astronomer of note who is credited with a considerable number of works on astronomical phenomena. Masarjawayh of Basra (late 9th cent.) was among the first to translate medical works into Arabic, among them the Pandect in Syriac of the archdeacon Ahron. Masarjawayh probably also wrote original works, since U\aybia, the historian of medicine, states that the quotations from "the Jew" in the encyclopedic al-Hawi by the celebrated physician al-Razi are taken from his writings. Isaac b. Solomon Israeli (c. 850–950), of Egypt and later Kairouan, established a reputation as a philosopher and medical scholar. His writings include al-Hudud wa al-Rusum ("The Book of Definitions and Descriptions"), an explanation of logical and philosophical terms; al-Ustuq\at ("The Elements"), a treatise on the components of the physical world, based on the works of Aristotle, Hippocrates, and Galen; a study on the nature and value of different foods (fi Taba'i al-Aghdhiya wa-Quwaha); On the Knowledge of Urine and Its Components (fi Marifat al-Bawl wa-Aqsamuhu); Introduction to the Study of Medicine (al-Madkhal ila \inaat at-Tibb); Introduction to Logic (al-Madkhal ila-al-Mantiq); Regarding Philosophy (fi Hikma); and Commentary on the Sefer Yezirah.
Saadiah b. Joseph Gaon (882–942) left his native Egypt and traveled through Palestine to Babylonia, where he was appointed Gaon of the Academy of Sura; there he became involved in a serious dispute with the exilarch, which was finally resolved. Possessing encyclopedic knowledge and capable of enormous productivity, his works include a translation of the Bible into Arabic, a long and a short commentary on the Pentateuch, and comments on and introductions to other books of the Bible. He codified the laws relating to such topics as inheritance, trusts, and oaths. In addition, he compiled a list of hapax legomena in the Bible, which he sought to explain with the aid of extra-biblical sources, a Hebrew grammar, and a rhyming dictionary. In expounding the Sefer Yezirah, a theosophical tract, Saadiah attempted to interpret it as a philosophical monograph. He also wrote a theological work, the Kitab al-Amanat wa-al-Itiqadat, made great contributions to liturgy and chronology, and composed polemics against the Karaites and other heretics. His vigorous attack on the Karaites roused their anger and he was designated their arch-enemy. He also encountered criticism from the Rabbanite R. Mevasser ha-Levi, who raised objections to explanations of rulings in his works, either because they did not agree with tradition or because they appeared to contradict a previous statement of the author. David ibn Marwan al-Mukammi\, a contemporary of Saadiah who converted to Christianity and subsequently returned to Judaism, wrote the theological treatise, lshrun Maqalat ("Twenty Tracts") of which only about a tenth is extant. The work deals with the attributes of God, and in accordance with the Mu'tazilite view, regards them as aspects of His essence. Another fragment of al-Mukammi\' writing, cited in an 11th century commentary to the Sefer Yezirah, treats the question of the Creation.
R. Samuel b. Hophni (d. 1013) who, like Saadiah, was a Gaon in the Academy of Sura, devoted all his writings to the exposition of traditional Jewish lore. However, the influence of Arabic literature and theology is very evident in his works. More verbose than Saadiah, Samuel supplied commentaries on those parts of the Torah which the former did not annotate, as well as on Ecclesiastes and on some of the Later Prophets. He did not hesitate to include an excursus on any subject related to his theme, for example, his digression on dreams in general after having dealt with the dreams of Pharaoh. He produced a refutation of the doctrine held by Muslim theologians that God would void His revelation to Moses in favor of one to be revealed later. His major work, however, was on the Talmud to which he wrote an introduction and compiled monographs on various topics in Jewish law such as ritual slaughter, benedictions, partnership, and gifts. As with Saadiah, what distinguishes Samuel's writings is his systematic organization and treatment: in each case, he provides an introduction and a table of contents, and he divides his material into chapters with headings summarizing what is to be dealt with. His son-in-law, Hai b. Sherira Gaon (939–1038), wrote both in Hebrew and in Arabic. His well-known work, Purchase and Sale, is in Arabic, as is his monograph, Oaths, and a number of other writings. Although his responsa were generally in Hebrew, they were written in Arabic when the inquiry was written in that language. Of particular interest is his glossary of difficult words in the Bible and Talmud, al-Hawi ("The Comprehender"), which works on the basis of triliteral roots. The glossary was used in Spain and was directly consulted until at least the end of the 11th century. Of the writings of Hai's father, Sherira b. Hanina Gaon, only one responsum is a manifest translation from Arabic; and although it is said that he wrote halakhic works in that language, nothing has survived. But he did use Arabic in the course of his Hebrew and Aramaic writings.
Hefez b. Yazli'ah (late 10th or early 11th cent.) was the author of Sefer ha-Mitzvot, apparently a work which enumerated and discussed in detail the 613 commandments of Jewish law. He began every elucidation with either "It is commanded" or "It is required," in the case of positive precepts, and "It is prohibited" in the case of negative commandments. First the biblical law is summarized, and then follows the rabbinic expansion and ramification. His work was used by scholars who read or wrote Arabic, among them Maimonides; but since it was not translated into Hebrew, later citations are secondary. Moreover, only a relatively small part of what must have been a large work has so far come to light; from the table of contents of the extant section only an idea of the probable extent of the entire production can be formed.
Although they adopted an antagonistic stance toward rabbinic traditions and initially asserted every individual's right, nay duty, to make his own intensive study of the Holy Scriptures, the Karaites gradually restricted this prerogative to the learned, whose conclusions were then followed by the masses. Originating in the eighth century, the movement's earlier leaders—Anan b. David, Benjamin b. Moses al-Nahawendi, and Daniel b. Moses al-Qumisi—used Aramaic or Hebrew in their writings. But as Arabic came into wider use, Karaite writers began to adopt it as their means of communication. Among the more renowned was David b. Boaz (c. 930), a descendant of the movement's founder, Anan, who translated the Pentateuch into Arabic and also wrote a commentary on it. Salmon b. Jeroham, one of the most vitriolic opponents of Saadiah, wrote a polemic in Hebrew against the Gaon which, following the manner of the time, heaped abuse on him as part of the attack. His outlook was in general narrow and partisan, and he was also opposed to the pursuit of secular studies. In Arabic he composed commentaries on the Five Scrolls and also on the Psalms. Jacob al-Kirkisani (c. 930) produced a large work, al-Anwar wa al-Maraqib ("The Lights and the Lookouts"), which is in the main an exposition of Karaite beliefs and laws and a somewhat polemical defense of them against criticism from the ranks of the Rabbanites and from fellow-Karaites. In addition, the book contains a historical survey of the Jews and Karaites, as well as of heretical sects, which is highly esteemed by modern scholars, particularly for its information about the early divisions among the Karaites and the attitudes toward Anan of his immediate successors. Jacob also wrote a commentary on the book of Genesis, which makes extensive use of Saadiah's interpretations. In the field of Bible study, Japheth b. Ali ha-Levi holds a high place. He lived in Jerusalem, where the Karaites had established a community in 950–980. He translated the Bible into Arabic, much more literally and unidiomatically than Saadiah, and wrote extensive commentaries which contain a considerable amount of grammatical analysis. He tended toward making as much of the text as he could contemporary in application; this is particularly true of his explanation of Daniel. He made attacks upon Saadiah, Christianity, and Islam; and he is also credited with the authorship of a polemical tract directed against Jacob b. Ephraim, a disciple of Saadiah. His son, Levi b. Japheth (Abu Said), was likewise a writer. Levi's most important work, a book on the precepts called Sefer ha-Mitzvot in its Hebrew translation, was completed in 1007 and is a codification of Karaite halakhah. It deals with such topics as the calendar, the nazirite prayer, and civil law, and it is cited by many later Karaites. He may also have composed commentaries on the Early Prophets and on the Psalms.
David b. Abraham Alfasi (second half of 10th cent.) compiled a dictionary of the Bible in 22 parts corresponding to the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. The various usages of a word are cited, and every entry is translated into Arabic. He refers to Onkelos and Jonathan b. Uzziel, the Aramaic versions of the Bible, and also to the Mishnah, the Talmud, the masorah, and even the Rabbanite prayerbook. He occasionally compares the vocable with Arabic, Aramaic, and mishnaic Hebrew. Abu al-Faraj Harun ibn al-Faraj (c. 1000–1050), who lived in Jerusalem, wrote a grammar of Hebrew called al-Mushtamil ("The Encompasser"), which he completed in 1007. It consisted of seven parts and dealt with the manifold aspects of the language. He utilized his knowledge of Arabic and Aramaic for comparison and elucidation. Abu al-Faraj, when giving paradigms of the Hebrew verb, started from the infinitive and showed the difference in the use of this form in Hebrew and Arabic; he also discussed Hebrew particles and syntax. His work was known in Spain, and is cited by Jonah ibn Janah, and Moses and Abraham ibn Ezra. An epitome of the Mushtamil, which was probably intended as an appendix, also exists; this may explain why Abraham ibn Ezra speaks of the book as having eight parts. Joseph b. Abraham al-Ba\ir (called the Seer, a euphemism for "the Blind") was a widely traveled theologian, a polyglot, and a student of Rabbanite lore. He was held in high esteem by the Karaites as a religious authority. His works include al-Muhtawi ("The Compendium," or in Hebrew Sefer Ne'imot), a theological study which reveals deep Mutazilite influence. Consisting of 40 chapters, the book presents a Karaite adaptation of the kalam doctrines as well as polemics against Christians and pagans. He also left an epitome of his major work, al-Tamyiz, and a book on inheritance and on ritual cleanliness, al-Istib\ar ("Investigation"). His pupil and disciple Joshua b. Judah Abu-l-Faraj Furqan ibn Asad (c. 1050–1080) is known as the teacher par excellence. He made an Arabic translation of the Torah together with a commentary on it, which were completed about 1050. His detailed commentary on the Decalogue is available only in the Hebrew translation which covers only the first four commandments. He also produced Bereshit Rabbati, philosophic homilies on Genesis, partially translated into Hebrew. His most important work is on the precepts and is called Sefer ha-Yashar. Because of the comparative relaxation of the strict system of relationships (rikkub) which prevailed among the Karaites, the best-known section of the book is on incestuous marriages. He defends his personal views, arguing with his Karaite predecessors and criticizing Halakhot Gedolot and the Hilkhot Re'u, compilations of Rabbanite law.
The Jewish communities of North Africa and Spain were as influenced by the Islamic-Arabic environment in which they existed as were their brethren in the East. Although the Jews in those lands (as the Muslims) were for a considerable time pupils of their coreligionists in Iraq, Palestine, and Egypt, some of them began to write books at about the same time as the Jews in the East. Abu Sahl Dunash ibn Tamim (10th cent.) was a grammarian, theologian, astronomer, and physician. His work on grammar, of which a small fragment may have been found, is cited by several Spanish Jewish writers. He appears to have undertaken a comparative study of the cognate Semitic languages, lexical rather than morphological; he believed Hebrew to be the mother of Semitic languages, and, thereby, Arabic to be only a derivative of Hebrew. In his work on astronomy he included a critique of astrology for the Fatimid Imam Man\ur Isma'il, and in another study on the same topic he answered the inquiries of Hisdai ibn Shaprut. There is also mention of works on philosophy and medicine. It is not clear whether his commentary on the Sefer Yezirah is a revision and editing of Isaac Israeli's commentary or an entirely independent study. Judah ibn Quraysh of Tahert in Morocco (first half of tenth century) was the physician of the emir of Fez. He knew Eldad ha-Dani, the self-styled traveler from a distant Jewish land, and believed in his account. His work, called Risala (Epistle) or possibly Av va-Em after the first vocables, is an attempt at comparative linguistics. He states that he composed it in order to rebuke his fellow-Jews for neglecting the reading of the Aramaic version of the Torah which he believed important for the knowledge of Hebrew. In the first of the three parts of the book he compares Aramaic and biblical Hebrew words in alphabetical order; in the second he does the same with Aramaic and Hebrew words in the Mishnah and the Talmud. The final section deals with Arabic and biblical Hebrew.
Talmudic studies flourished in North Africa in the 10th and 11th centuries. One scholar writing in Arabic was Nissim b. Jacob ben Nissim of Kairouan (c. 990–1060), who headed a school in his native city. His works (a discussion and selections in Abramson, Rav Nissim Ga'on; Heb., 1965) in chronological order are: Ha-Mafte'ah she-le-Manulei ha-Talmud ("The Keys to the Locks of the Talmud"), in Arabic, which apparently covered the entire Babylonian Talmud, although only parts of it have so far come to light; comments on the Talmud in Arabic and Hebrew, of which some portions are known and more being discovered; Piskei Halakhot ("Legal Decisions") in Arabic, fragments of which have been discovered; Megillat Setarim ("Scroll of Secrets"), a collection of explanations on difficult passages in the Talmud and on sundry religious topics; al-Faraj bad al-Shidda ("Relief After Distress"; in Hebrew Hibbur Yafeh me-ha-Yeshu'ah), and a book of consolation, a genre current in classical Arabic literature, made up of stories written to bring comfort, faith, and acceptance of God's judgment. This last work has appeared both in Hebrew and in its Arabic original, but it is not yet clear what the author's form and arrangement were.
Jewish works of importance written in Arabic were far more abundant in Muslim Spain than in the East. Among the men who were primarily grammarians and only incidentally biblical exegetes, two names are distinguished. The first, Judah b. David Hayyuj (10th–11th cent.), a native of Fez who died in Spain, devoted two works to the geminated verbs and the verbs with weak letters in their roots. He established the principle that all Hebrew verb-roots, regardless of what happens to them in inflection, consist of three letters; and in this manner he worked out the rules which govern the classes of weak verbs. He also compiled a book of random comments on the books of the Bible, parts of which have been found and published. The second name of importance is Hayyuj's outstanding disciple, Jonah ibn Janah (first half 11th cent.), who compiled a comprehensive work, al-Tanqih ("Polishing"), consisting of a grammar and a lexicon. The former, called al-Luma(("Brightness," in Hebrew Ha-Rikmah), is a complete presentation of the rules of Hebrew grammar and their exceptions. The lexicon, which consists of the Hebrew roots, gives their definition together with examples from the Bible to illustrate their secondary and tertiary meanings as well as their most common usage. He also composed three smaller works which examine and explain the classes of weak verbs. As a result of culling illustrations from the Bible, his writings contain considerable exegetical material.
Moses b. Samuel ha-Kohen ibn Gikatilla (11th cent.) occupies a prominent place among biblical commentators who used Arabic. A native of Cordoba who lived in Saragossa, he produced commentaries on most of the books of the Bible which, unfortunately, have been lost with the exception of part of his commentary on the Book of Psalms. However, many of his views are known from extracts quoted in the writings of others, notably of his critic, Judah b. Samuel ibn Bal'am, who condemned him for his "radical" views on the messianic prophecies. Ibn Gikatilla interpreted these prophecies as predictions of events to take place soon after they were uttered, and he also made efforts to explain miracles rationally. Another work, his short grammatical treatise on gender in Hebrew, is extant. Ibn Bal'am, Ibn Gikatilla's younger contemporary, whose exegetical work has survived, was an eclectic commentator who frequently made use of the works of others. True to the practice of the time, he mentions authors only when he disagrees with them. He charges both Saadiah and Ibn Gikatilla with violating Arabic usage in their translations, and occasionally finds fault even with his master, Ibn Janah. In the field of grammar, he compiled a list of Hebrew particles and their uses, a list of homonyms with their different meanings, and a list of verbs derived from nouns. He is known to have had a remarkably good memory and a very sour disposition.
While many halakhic responsa by Spanish Jews were penned in Arabic, legal compilations were composed in Hebrew or hebraized Aramaic. Even Maimonides, who wrote most of his works in Arabic, turned to Hebrew for his magnum opus, the compendium of Jewish law entitled Mishneh Torah or Ha-Hibbur. However, as an aid to making his great compilation well-arranged and complete, he prepared in Arabic a list of the 613 commandments before embarking upon his enterprise. He provided this propaedeutic because he had his own ideas, which differed from those of his predecessors, on the nature of the laws which ought to be included in the 613. He insisted, for example, on the need to distinguish between a biblical and a rabbinic prescription and to exclude general admonitions, such as "Be ye holy." By laying down these principles of selection he hoped to establish an unchallengeable list, a hope that was not fulfilled.
Both Maimonides and his father wrote epistles in Arabic. The latter addressed a letter of comfort to the Jews in North Africa who were victims of religious persecution by the Almohads, a fanatical Muslim movement preached by Ibn Tumart and adopted by a Berber tribe. The letter seeks to fortify the Jews with the faith that God will not forsake them and that the promises of reward to the righteous will be realized. Maimonides himself discussed the same persecution, but in a much more pragmatic fashion. His missive is in fact in response to a question asked of him by a North African crypto-Jew who had been told by a local rabbi that his secret practice of Judaism was of no use since he was outwardly a Muslim. Maimonides refutes the rabbi's ruling, adding, however, an analysis of the talmudic principle that certain demands made by persecutors should not be acceded to, even if the consequence is martyrdom. He exhorts Jews in the same position as the inquirer to leave the locale where the oppression exists, or, if this is too difficult, to practice Jewish law as much as possible without endangering their lives. A second letter, Iggeret Teiman, deals with the religious persecution in that country in 1172, which was complicated by the rise of a pseudo-Messiah who promised imminent salvation and the return to Zion. Maimonides offers consolation, and gives warning against the readiness to believe in the pseudo-Messiah out of despair. He also wrote the monograph Resurrection, the object of which was to refute accusations that he did not believe the dead would eventually return to life. His refutation was that since he included this hope as one of the 13 articles of the Jewish faith, it was unnecessary to repeat it; and his failure to discuss resurrection in other appropriate places was due to the distinction between rational doctrines and those accepted on faith.
A unique volume in Arabic was composed by the celebrated poet Moses b. Jacob ibn Ezra. It is a study of the art of Hebrew, especially biblical poetry, called Kitab al-Muhadara wa al-Mudhakara, but it is in fact much more than that, for it also contains a brief history, and occasionally characterizations of the literary figures who flourished in Spain, a disquisition on the composition of poetry in sleep, and an explanation of why the Arabs excel in poetic composition. The whole work is presented in the style of adab, a popular Arabic genre in which the author enjoyed the freedom to digress on any subject. The digression was accompanied by an occasional reminder that it was time to return to the major theme.
Religious Philosophy and Theology
These subjects were cultivated more actively in Muslim Spain than in the East; but like most other cultural activities, they flourished initially in the Levant. Ibn Mukammi\ has been discussed above. Saadiah's Emunot ve-De'ot, though not blindly following Mu'tazilite thought, was nonetheless considerably influenced by it. In general he used reason to buttress the accepted articles of the Jewish faith. With the exception of Bahya b. Joseph ibn Paquda (11th cent.), who in the first chapter of his Hovot ha-Levavot gives a brief resume of a theological position deriving from Saadiah, the works of the other great Spanish Jewish thinkers show that they were under the influence of Plato and Aristotle, or a combination of the latter and neoplatonism. The most philosophic of the group, Solomon b. Judah ibn Gabirol (1021–1058), was drawn to the views of the Muslim thinker Ibn Masarra (883–931), who was strongly influenced by pseudo-Empedocles and who taught the doctrine of universal matter and universal soul. Basing his philosophy on the Aristotelian principles of matter and form, Ibn Gabirol in his writings cited no passage from biblical or rabbinic sources and made no reference to the Jewish tradition. He did not treat matter and form as opposite ends of being, rather he defined matter as the substrate, common to all being, and form as the differentiating principle which gives individuality to every existent. He regarded matter and form as being the universally constituent factors in every object, from the lowest species to the highest intellectual being, and he ascribed the appearance of corporeality to some quality in matter which gives it body. In Ibn Gabirol's view, since matter is the subject, it is logically prior to form, which specifies it; nevertheless, both universal matter and universal form are the sources of all being. The beginning of the world, the first cause, was God's Will, which is intermediate between Infinite God and the universe. Ibn Gabirol did not, however, define God's Will with sufficient clarity to make it plainly comprehensible, and his philosophy did not win favor among Jews. Although neglected by Jewish theologians, it was adopted by some Christian thinkers, and it subsequently exerted considerable influence on the Kabbalah.
As stated above, Bahya ibn Paquda (11th–12th century) employed the reasoning of kalam to prove the existence and oneness of God. But these issues were not his primary concern, they were merely the first requirement of the correct attitude to be taken toward God.
Bahya's real interest was in emphasizing the duties of the heart (the title of his book), the state of mind and of emotion prerequisite to the true performance of the practical religious precepts. He feels doubly impelled to undertake this task first, because among the community in general performance of ritual acts is the backbone of Judaism, and, secondly, concern with the approved manner of practice occupies the time and mind of the learned. Essentially, Bahya preached the inward experience of faith: trust, humility, asceticism, repentance, and self-examination. His book, therefore, may be regarded as a guide which, though written about Judaism for Jews and replete with quotations from the Bible and the Talmud, actually belongs to the sphere of religion in general; and for this reason Bahya does not hesitate to adduce proofs from outside sources. Of all the religious literature produced in the Islamic world, his work was probably the best known and most widely studied among Jews. The monograph Maani al-Nafs ("Matters of the Soul") falsely ascribed to him, although probably dating from the same period, deals primarily with the fate and duty of the human soul from the time it separates from its source to join the body, until it is once again free to return to its original home. In the course of this exposition, the author also gives his views on the emanation and creation of the world, its constituent factors and other religious and philosophical issues.
Joseph ibn Zaddik (d. 1149) wrote his Olam Katan (Microcosm) as a guide to help man gain, through introspection and self-analysis, the necessary knowledge of the world, its Maker, the human soul, and the ethical life. This short tract is not endowed with originality, following neoplatonism in its psychology, Aristotelianism in its physics, and kalam in its proof of the existence of God. A far-better-known poet and literary figure, Moses ibn Ezra, is the author of Kitab al-Hadiqa fi mana al-majaz wa al-haqiqa ("The Garden of the Subject of Metaphor and Reality," in Hebrew Arugat ha-Bosem), a semiphilosophical study in which there is the usual discussion of God and His attributes and man and his psychology, but in addition there is much attention given to metaphor in the Bible.
The well-known poet Judah Halevi (1080–1141) was also the author of a philosophical work which was unique in its time among the books in this field. Its title, Kitab al-Hujja wa al-Dalil fi Na\r al-Din al-Dhalil ("The Argument and the Proof in Defense of the Despised Faith"; popularly called Sefer ha-Kuzari, indicates that it was produced in defense of the Jewish religion, which, the author says, was held in low esteem by the Gentiles. Although critical of philosophy, Judah Halevi is not, like the extremely orthodox, against it; in fact, in his discussion of ethics and of God's uniqueness, he concedes the correctness of the philosophic approach. However, he criticizes metaphysics on the grounds that it simply cannot attain to the ultimate truths, but nevertheless pretends that its conclusions are totally valid. Because their revelation is historically attested, the Jewish Scriptures and tradition are the only unimpeachable sources for the essential truths. The revealed source teaches that man's highest attainment is the gift of prophecy, a gift reserved for the people of Israel in Erez Israel. The Jew receives this gift when he lives in full accord with the Law revealed to Moses. Halevi makes the interesting point that the essence of Judaism is not found in the prescriptions which are rational and apprehendable by human reason, but in the irrational precepts known to us only because they were revealed. He thus demonstrates that the Jewish tradition contains not only the basic truths but also the highest good. The book is written in the form of a dialogue between the author and the king of the Khazars, who came to him to learn about the Jewish faith. It is interesting, although not surprising, that this spokesman for Judaism concludes his discussion by announcing his decision to settle in Erez Israel, which he in fact did, as we know from his poetry. Abraham ibn Daud (d. c. 1180), the compiler of an original history of the Jewish tradition, was the first Jewish thinker in Spain to attempt a fusion of the doctrines of the Jewish faith with Aristotelian philosophy (the latter, it must be remembered, was suffused with the neoplatonic system of emanations). Ibn Daud did not examine all theological issues, but he provided summaries of topics such as proofs of the existence of God, the Creation, the Revelation, immortality, and providence. His work, Sefer ha-Emunah ha-Ramah, was apparently disregarded in favor of Maimonides' celebrated synthesis; its Arabic original is unknown, and the two translations into Hebrew, one of them published in 1852, were both prepared in the late 14th century.
As stated above, Maimonides (1135–1204) wrote most of his works in Arabic. Of these the most celebrated is his Guide of the Perplexed (Moreh Nevukhim), a philosophical analysis of Jewish law and theology. Believing like many others that revealed truth and philosophical conclusions reach one and the same end, he proposed to establish the principles of Jewish theology according to doctrines of Aristotelian philosophy, which he accepted as the valid interpretation of the sublunar cosmic process. On this basis he discusses the person of God, the Creation, prophecy, providence, the afterlife, and the content and purpose of the revealed law. In order to anchor his philosophy in Jewish doctrine, he used proof texts from the Bible and traditional Jewish sources. The Guide became the most important philosophic compendium in the Jewish world. Its Hebrew translation had been eagerly awaited by admirers of his earlier works. Two Hebrew renderings almost simultaneously produced became available, one by Samuel ibn Tibbon, and the other by Judah b. Solomon al-Harizi. The former has always been treated as the authentic and reliable version, although it was severely criticized by Shem Tov b. Joseph Falaquera, one of the early commentators on the work.
The Guide's popularity resulted in two contrary developments. For many it became the basic text, the authoritative reconciliation between the two sources of the one truth, so that the philosophically-minded in the subsequent centuries invariably took it as their point of departure for commentary, summary, or controversy. At the same time, there were scholars who were wary of the intrusion of philosophical reflection into the religious sphere, because they sensed that reconciliation meant setting up philosophy as the judge of what in religion could be maintained, and what had to be interpreted, no matter how far the interpretation carried it from its literal meaning. Even students who were not particularly interested in philosophical speculations were compelled to confront it since Maimonides introduced a number of philosophical concepts into the first of the 14 books of his legal compendium. This alignment of admirers and antagonists led to serious conflict in the 13th and 14th centuries.
Joseph b. Judah ibn Aknin (c. 1150–1220), a contemporary and friend of Maimonides, settled in Fez after his departure from his native Spain. By his own admission he lived there as a crypto-Jew, although his energetic literary activity seems to show that his private life did not suffer any interference. Save for his commentary on Avot, which was originally in Hebrew, his other writings were probably all in Arabic, although there is naturally uncertainty in the case of those of his writings which are no longer extant. Of his surviving works, Tibb al-Nufus al-Salima... ("Medicine for Healthy Souls..."), is an ethical treatise which includes a chapter on the soul and its needs and destiny. The book also contains chapters on friendship, speech and silence, keeping a secret, lying, food and drink, and asceticism. In every chapter there is an exposition, followed by relevant rabbinical sayings and epigrams culled from Arabic anthologies. The work is concluded by a chapter on persecutions and Jewish behavior in relation to them, and a chapter on repentance. A threefold commentary on the Song of Songs, dealing with the plain meaning, the rabbinic elaboration, and a philosophical-psychological interpretation, which Joseph claimed to be an original contribution, has the distinction of providing an explanation of every word in the Scroll. He wrote an Introduction to the Talmud (Mevo ha-Talmud), and a tract on quantities and measurements in Jewish literature. An as yet undiscovered compilation, Hukkim u-Mishpatim, may have resembled the legal compendium of Maimonides; and his Risalat al-Ibana fi U\ul al-Diyana ("A Religious Clarification of Religious Fundamentals") was apparently theological in character.
From the 13th Century
In Judeo-Arabic literature, in both Spain and the Middle East, the 13th century marks a division between what preceded it and what followed. In Spain, Christendom's final victory over Islamic power in 1212 led to the gradual elimination of Arabic from Jewish life in favor of the Romance languages in daily intercourse and of Hebrew in writing. During the 11th and 12th centuries, the continuous shift of the Jewish population from Andalusia to Christian territory, where Arabic had never been the dominant language, accelerated the abandonment of Arabic. However, knowledge of the language remained essential for the translation of texts on philosophy and logic, medicine, mathematics, and astronomy into Hebrew, Latin, and Spanish. It was at this time that the cultural heritage which originated in the East and enriched during the period of Islamic ascendency was transmitted to the West. Among the authors who continued to write in Arabic, Judah b. Solomon ibn Matkah (13th cent.), who corresponded with Emperor Frederick II of Sicily, compiled an encyclopedia of logic, physics, and metaphysics, which he translated into Hebrew under the title Midrash ha-Hokhmah. He also produced Mishpetei ha-Kokhavim, a digest of Ptolemy's astronomical Almagest. Joseph b. Isaac Israeli of Toledo (d. 1331) wrote a compendium on astronomy which was based on his father's well-known monograph, Yesod Olam. Samuel ibn Waqar, the personal physician of Alfonso XI of Castile, may have been the author of the medical work "Castilian Royal Medicine" (1376). Solomon b. Ya'ish (d. 1345) composed a supercommentary on Abraham ibn Ezra's commentary to the Pentateuch, as well as a six-volume commentary on Avicenna's Canon, which remained the standard medical text for centuries. In the field of theology, Moses ibn Crispin Cohen, who in 1336 left his native Cordoba to settle in Toledo, composed a tract on providence and the afterlife. Joseph b. Abraham ibn Waqar (14th cent.), a philosopher and kabbalist, also wrote a book on theological matters, for which only a Hebrew title, Ma'amar ha-Kolel, is suggested by the name of one of the two extant translations. Judah b. Nissim Malka (14th cent.) of North Africa was a neoplatonist who wrote a tripartite work in the spirit of that philosophy; the first two sections were a commentary on the Sefer Yezirah, the former being an introduction to the theosophic booklet, Uns al-Gharib ("Consolation of the Foreigner," i.e., man's soul on earth) and the latter was on the Midrash Pirkei De-Rabbi Eliezer.
The composition of works in Arabic by Jews was much more prevalent in the East, where Arabic continued to be used as the spoken language. However, the general reaction against foreign influences which gradually eliminated from Muslim intellectual life the variety of interests that had attracted earlier generations, also affected Jewish literary productivity. There was a marked decline in the pursuit of secular subjects, with the exception of medicine; and studies in humanistic areas became confined to theological and ritual topics. Salama b. Mevorakh (12th cent.), a physician and philosopher, and a student of Ephraim b. al Zafah (who was physician to the court), wrote Nizam al-Mawjudat ("Arrangement of the Existents"), which was probably philosophic in character, al-Sabab al-Mujib li-Qillat al-Matar fi-Mi\r ("The Reasons for the Paucity of Rain in Egypt"), and fi-al-Ilm al-Ilahi "On Theology"). Hibat Allah ibn al-Hasan b. Ephraim was possibly the head of the academy and community of Fostat, whom the traveler Benjamin of Tudela mentioned by the name of Nethanel and who wrote among other works: Irshad li-Ma\alih Anfus al-Ajsad ("Guide to the Well-being of Souls and Bodies"), which treats of illnesses, cures, and hygiene; and al-Ta\rih fi Tanqih al-Qanun ("Revelation of the Hidden in Correcting the Canon of Avicenna"). The Karaite David b. Solomon (1161–1240), physician to Sultan al-Malik al-Adil, and possibly the teacher of Ibn Abi U\aybia, wrote a celebrated history of medicine and physicians. He compiled the 12-chapter antidotary Akrabadhin or Dustur al-Adwiya al-Murakkaba ("Register of Compound Remedies") and Risalat al-Mujarrabat ("Epistle on Experiences"). Jacob b. Isaac (al-Asad al-Mahalli; c. 1200) was the author of Maqala fi Qawanin al-Tibbiyya ("Treatise on the Fundamentals of Medicine") and Masail Tibbiyya wa-Ajwibatiha ("Questions and Answers on Medicine"), addressed to the Samaritan author Sadaqa ibn Munajja in Damascus. Abu-al-Muna ibn abi Na\r al-Kohen al-Attar (13th cent.) compiled a popular pharmacopoeia, Minhaj al-Dukkan wa-Dustur al-Ayan ("Practice of the Shop and List of the Important"), which is a painstaking collection, arranged in alphabetical order, of pertinent material gleaned from diverse sources, both oral and written. It includes a moralizing first chapter addressed to his son, which in fact may be an addition written by someone else. Numan ibn abi al-Rida((14th cent.) wrote a medical treatise which he considered to be a collection of glosses on the work of al-Masihi. There were a large number of other physicians in the Muslim Jewish communities who tended to write on religion rather than on their profession. Abraham b. Moses b. Maimon (1186–1237), who succeeded his father as court physician and head of the Jewish community, composed a voluminous work, Kifayat al-Abidin ("Enough for the Worshipers"), most of which has yet to be discovered. Although he was an ardent defender and great admirer of his father, Abraham's work exhibits a piety which was independent of his father. While not minimizing the importance of learning, he stressed that worship requires humility, concentration, devotion, and other qualities characteristic of pietists such as the Sufis. He also wrote a commentary on Genesis and Exodus and composed two works in answer to his father's critics, as well as responsa (still extant) in answer to religious and legal inquiries. Attributed to one of his two sons, David b. Abraham (1212–1300), who succeeded him as nagid, is a commentary on the Avot, which enjoyed great popularity. Also attributed to David is a collection of homilies on the weekly portion of the Torah, but the authorship of both works has been disputed. Like his father, David also had occasion (1290) to rise to the defense of Maimonides. Obadiah (1228–1265), David's brother, is said to have composed a vademecum for his son, called al-Maqala al-Hudiyya ("The Inclusive Treatise"), in which biblical and rabbinic passages were interpreted allegorically in order to provide moral instruction.
An ardent admirer of Maimonides, Tanhum b. Joseph Yerushalmi (d. 1291), wrote the commentary al-Ijaz wa al-Bayan ("Short and Clear"), which was probably on the entire Bible and is still largely extant, although only very few of his remarks on Ezra and Nehemiah have so far been discovered. A rationalist, entirely rejecting any mystical approach to the text, he strove to explain every facet of it with the aid of medicine, realia, chronology, geography, and philosophy. Of philosophy he made use on numerous occasions, particularly where the literal meaning of the text was difficult to accept. He employed allegory and included digressions on subjects such as prophecy, and the allegorical method. He occasionally disagreed with the Seder Olam, the chronological monograph which was almost undisputed during the Middle Ages, although he sometimes assumed approximate dates in the Bible in order to explain away discrepancies. He showed an appreciation for the aesthetic quality of the Bible and also a recognition that copyists' errors may have found their way into the masoretic text. In a comprehensive introduction to his vast enterprise, Tanhum discussed grammatical and philosophical principles at length, and also dwelt on the relation between exegesis and aggadah. In addition, he compiled a lexicon of the Hebrew in Maimonides' Code, al-Murshid al-Kafi ("The Adequate Guide"). In the introduction to this work he elaborated upon the tremendous importance of the Code, especially at a time when there was a decline in the study of the Talmud. He criticized the Arukh, the lexicon of Nathan b. Jehiel of Rome (11th cent.), because it did not include all the words in the language and operated on the basis of biliteral roots. Despite his criticisms he was in fact extremely indebted to the lexicon. Moreover, in his own lexicon he strayed from his objective. Not all the words in the Code are listed, nor are all the vocables given there taken from the Code, since he also provided explanations of a number of mishnaic terms. His tendency to go into philosophical and theological matters emerges even in this work. His son, Joseph b. Tanhum ha-Yerushalmi, a gifted writer of Hebrew poetry, may also have been the author of a book in Arabic on theology and philosophy, a fragment of which is extant.
Ibn Kammuna (Sad b. Man\ur; d. 1184) lived in Baghdad; toward the end of his life he was the target of attack by orthodox Muslims, who took offense at his statements about Islam in Tanqih al-Abhath i al-Milal al-Thalath ("Examination of the Inquiries into the Three Faiths"), a study of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The book, interesting and enlightened, opens with a general discussion of religion and prophecy, and continues with sections on each of the three religions. Ibn Kammuna's method is to present the principles of each faith in a general essay, and then to list questions and objections, followed by replies of the adherents of the particular faith. The work is outstanding for its fair-mindedness and objectivity, which may be the reason for the belief, now discredited, that the author was a convert to Islam. His other writings include al-Hikma al-Jadida ("The New Science"), on logic; Risala ("Epistle"), on the immortality of the soul; and Sharh Talwihat, a commentary on the Notes of the Muslim mystic Suhrawardi (d. 1191). He also wrote on chemistry and ophthalmology.
Israel ha-Dayyan ha-Ma'aravi (14th cent.) lived in Cairo and was judge of the Karaite community there. His works include a legal compendium known only by its Hebrew name, Sefer Mitzvot, a compilation of the personal and ritual laws of the Karaites. His Shurut al-Dhabaha ("Requirements of Ritual Slaughter") may have been part of his original Arabic Code. He also wrote Tartib al-Aqaid al-Sitta ("Classification of the Six Articles of Faith: God, Moses, the other prophets, the Torah, Jerusalem, and the Final Judgment"), as well as a book on the calendar. Samuel b. Moses al-Maghribi (15th cent.), a physician living in Cairo, compiled al-Murshid ("The Guide"), which was a book of laws in 12 sections; he also wrote a commentary on the Pentateuch and a history of Mount Moriah and the Temple. David b. Sa'del al-Hiti (15th cent.) composed a bibliography of Karaite scholars, which although uncritical and sometimes unreliable, has been of service to modern scholars.
The Jews of Yemen, who were subjected to many trials and persecutions, probably constituted the most cultivated among the Jewish communities living under Islam in the second millenium. In any case, they can boast of a larger number of literary figures than can other centers. One of the earliest, Nethanel b. al-Fayyumi (d. c. 1170), was probably the head of the community and was the father of Jacob b. Nethanel whose inquiry to Maimonides brought about the latter's Iggeret Teiman. Nethanel wrote Bustan al-Uqul ("The Garden of the Intellects"), a theological study with chapters on the unity of God, man the microcosm, the worship of God, repentance, reliance on God, messianic times and the afterlife. He quoted a good deal from extraneous sources and did not hesitate to invoke the support of the Koran and other Islamic works. Abraham b. Solomon (1350–1400), probably of Yemen, compiled a commentary on the Prophets and probably also on the Hagiographa. His Midrash al-Siyana is eclectic, quoting copiously from a number of predecessors. Its chief value lies in the fact that it preserves material from works no longer extant. Several Yemenite compositions are midrashic in character, probably because there were frequent occasions in the community when a small sermon was preached at some religious ceremony. Of these works the best known is the Midrash ha-Gadol by David b. Amram Adani, an eclectic compilation on the entire Torah, incorporating a great deal of material from earlier books, including some which cannot yet be identified. Even the compiler's name is not known with certainty and, in any event, it is possible that material from more than one hand was included in the book. Nethanel b. Yesha, a 14th-century scholar and preacher, composed the midrash Nur al-Zulam ("Illumination of the Dark") in 1329. Like Adani's work, it was written in a combination of Hebrew and Arabic and made up of citations from other sources. In the 15th century Zechariah b. Solomon ha-Rofe (Yahya b. Suleiman al-Tabib), a physician in Sana, produced Midrash ha-Hefez, a commentary on the Pentateuch, Lamentations, and the Scroll of Esther. It, too, is eclectic and shows the author's preference for ethical and philosophical interpretations. Zechariah is also credited with a Sharh ("Commentary") to Maimonides' Guide. Another 15th-century author, Abu Man\ur al-Daimari, composed in a philosophic tone the midrashic commentary on the Pentateuch, Siraj al-Uqul ("The Light of the Intellects").
In conclusion it is to be noted that composition of Jewish works in Arabic continued to appear until there ceased to be Jewish communities in the Arabic-speaking lands. However, it must be admitted that there is little value in these works, most of which are liturgical, exegetic, or translations of Hebrew pietistic works. The European influence, which from the end of the 19th century began to affect Arabic literature as it had affected Jewish literature in Europe a century earlier, does not seem to have played a part in the intellectual life of the Jews in the East. Nevertheless, their output of Hebrew or predominantly Hebrew poetry, rhymed prose, and religious works is of higher quality.
We are dealing here with that particular body of Jewish religious writings of all types, written in the shadow of Islam, usually in Arabic, but in Hebrew characters, during the period from before Saadiah Gaon until after the days of Maimonides and his son Abraham, i.e., from approximately the 8th century to the end of the 13th century. This culture is not merely a Jewish culture in Arabic language, but rather a Judeo-Islamic culture. Consequently, it is needless to point out that the Jewish writers who wrote in Arabic during this period were influenced by ideas then current in Islam, but their work should be viewed as the fruit of a period of centuries of creativity and cultural fertility shared by both religions. Similarly, the Arabic language used by the Jews in this period should not be regarded as a mere instrument employed by them, but as an integral part of the religious culture they had absorbed.
The extent to which a culture has absorbed and assimilated influences from another culture, as well as the preconditions which enabled their absorption and assimilation, is well known. The renowned orientalist H. A. R. Gibb, who studied the influence of Islam on the European Renaissance,1 laid down, among others, three basic theses which may constitute also a suitable starting point for a discussion of the influence of Islam on medieval Judeo-Arabic culture. These are:
(1) No culture absorbs influences from another culture unless the two possess certain similar and related qualities and the ground has been further prepared by similar activities.
(2) The absorption of foreign influences is a sign of the vitality of the absorbing culture or religion, but "the borrowed elements conduce to the expanding vitality of the borrowing culture only insofar as they draw their nourishment from the activities which led to their borrowing in the first place."
(3) Additional evidence of the vitality of the absorbing culture is provided if it confines this foreign influence to certain limits, thus preventing it from becoming too strong and undermining the foundations of the absorbing culture. "A living culture disregards or rejects all elements in other cultures which conflict with its own fundamental values, emotional attitudes or esthetic criteria."
There is no doubt that all this applies to the interrelationship of Judaism and Islam. The essential similarity of these two monotheistic religions which, unlike other religions, are based on law created from the very beginning a sense of special relationship and led to extensive reciprocal borrowing. The fact that the new religion of Islam assimilated many Jewish elements at the time of its origin and during the years of its consolidation was the reason that many Jewish Sages adopted a much more lenient attitude towards it than to other religions and even declared explicitly that it was not to be regarded as idolatry, and differed from Christianity in essential aspects.2 On the other hand, there is no doubt that Judaism at least had some reserves with regard to borrowing and assimilating Islamic influences. As we will see later on, this reserve was especially strong in the field of mysticism, though many Jews were strongly attracted by Sufi (Islamic mystical) teachings. It is also an established fact that much Islamic material which was absorbed by Jewish culture has been adapted and developed in a clearly Jewish spirit.
To be properly appreciated at least three interesting and important viewpoints should be added, however, to these three theses:
(1) Two periods can be clearly distinguished in the interrelationship of Judaism and Islam. During the first period—the 7th and maybe also the 8th centuries—Judaism, more than any other religion and culture, left a decisive impact on Islam, a new religion in the process of consolidation. In the second period—probably from the 8th century, and in particular from the 9th century onward—Islam, which had become a rich and variegated culture, profoundly influenced Jewish culture. Consequently, the interrelationship of these two cultures may be regarded as a closed circle, a rare phenomenon in cultural relationships. Thus it is sometimes possible to trace an idea, concept or custom that was absorbed by early Islam from Judaism, assimilated by it in a genuine Islamic spirit and subsequently, in its Muslim guise, left its impact on Judaism. As an example, the concept of intention (kavanah, the devotional frame of mind which has to accompany compliance with a religious duty) was doubtless taken from Jewish—mainly Talmudic3-sources by Islamic thinkers, who turned it into a Hadith saying, allegedly of the prophet, or into a saying of the Sufi (mystic pietists). However, Islam also transformed this concept into a formula which may sometimes deprive it of its very spirit: every believer must declare, before performing a commandment, that he is about to perform it with intention, by reciting a formula: "I now intend to perform the commandment of morning prayer (or midday prayer, etc"). Pietist Jewish circles seem (at a rather late stage) to have accepted and translated it into Hebrew.4
(2) The interrelationship of these two cultures—Judaism and Islam—always took place in the presence of a third religious culture—Christianity, which has strong links with both Judaism and Islam. This permanent Christian presence left its imprint on the interrelationship of these religions. Islam, for instance, regards Judaism and Christianity as belonging to the same category in many respects. They are recognized by Islam as the two earlier monotheistic religions, even though Islam claimed to have superseded and abrogated them. The "People of the Book" (Ahl al-Kitab) or the "Protected People" (Ahl al-Dhimma), as both Jews and Christians were called, were granted freedom of worship, though many humiliating restrictions were imposed upon them.5 The Jews, on their part, generally regarded Islam either as a counterpart of Christianity (as did Judah Halevi, for instance, in his Kuzari, Book IV, par. 11), or as its opposite (Maimonides, for instance in his above-mentioned Responsa). Only seldom did they deal with Islam in a specific way unlinked to Christianity.
(3) This leads us to the central and principal feature of the relationship of Islam and Judaism (and we may now add: and Christianity) in the medieval Arab East: there was a profound religious-cultural alliance among these three positive religions in their common confrontation with the pagan cultural legacy which, in its philosophical Arabic disguise, threatened equally the existence of the three revelational religions.6 The extent and depth of their spiritual collaboration is highly astonishing and probably has no parallel in any other period of human history. It seems that only against the special cultural background of medieval Islam could such a spiritual alliance spring up. The rich Arabic language with its advanced religious and philosophical terminology, in which the scholars and thinkers of all three religions wrote, was an additional factor. One striking example may be given: it had long been noticed that the "Duties of the Heart" of Bahya ibn Paquda contains a chapter ("The Ways of Discernment of the Creatures"-Bab Al-I'tibar Fi-al-Makhluk<n) which is surprisingly similar to the book "The Wisdom of God in His Creatures" (Al-Hikma f< makhlukat Allah) probably written by al-Ghazal< (d. 1111), one of the greatest Muslim thinkers of all times. Some passages of these works, which praise God's creation, especially man, are literally identical, and their general contents are the same. It was long believed that Bahya had copied al-Ghazal<. D. Z. Baneth, however, discovered a manuscript upon which both based their work, and he maintains that it was written by a Christian-Arab author. Both Bahya ibn Paquda and al-Ghazal< adapted this book, each in the spirit of his own religion, mainly by adding verses from the Torah of the Jewish Sages in the case of the former, or verses from the Qur'an, or sayings of the Prophet and his companions, by al-Ghazal<.
STUDYING JEWISH CULTURE IN THE SHADOW OF ISLAM
The relationship of Judaism and Islam has so far been considered, as it were, from the outside—a step which is necessary if one wishes to study the Arabic period of Jewish history or the form of Jewish culture that was created in the shadow of Islam. Only thus is it possible to obtain an overall picture of the relationship between two cultures, without which one is bound to get entangled in details, without being able to discern the general framework clearly. However, these cultures must now be considered "from within" in order to determine their characteristic and striking features.
But first an important methodological problem has to be faced. There is a widespread tendency to ascribe a phenomenon occurring in two cultures to the influence of the earlier culture on the later. A. Geiger, in the introduction to his "Was hat Mohammed aus dem Judenthume aufgenommem?" (Leipzig 1830) and I. Goldziher already warned against this tendency with regard to the relationship of Judaism and Islam. Similar developments and phenomena in different cultures are not necessarily the result of the influence of one on the other, but may also be the fruit of equal external conditions or of the religious needs and developments of the individual believer or the community, etc.
A few examples may illustrate this point.
Both Judaism and Islam are unique in that they have a sacred oral law in addition to the Divinely given written law.7 It is, nevertheless, questionable whether this phenomenon in Islam is necessarily the fruit of the influence of the older religion. It is true that when the Muslim oral law (al-Sunna) was committed to writing, the opponents to this act used arguments very similar to those of the Jewish Sages, who opposed the redaction of the oral law into a book. Nevertheless, Goldziher strongly rejects the assumption that this is a case of direct Jewish influence. An oral law is bound to appear sooner or later in a religion that possesses a written law, in order to answer new questions and needs which arise, and are not solved by the written law. It is also natural that initially such a suggestion will meet with fierce opposition, but gradually the oral law will take its place alongside the written law and even overshadow it, in matters of both doctrine and practice. In Islam this is even explicitly expressed by the saying that the oral law, the Sunna of the Prophet, may change or even abrogate explicit statements of the Qur'an. Both in Judaism and Islam it is explicitly stated that the later sayings of the oral law are as sacred and binding as the early words of the legislator. In Judaism this was formulated by Rabbi Joshua ben Levi: "Even what an outstanding student may point out to his teacher in the future, was already said to Moses on Mount Sinai" (T. J., Hag. 1, 8); and in Islam, in the paradoxical sayings ascribed to the Prophet Muhammad, such as: "All beautiful things that are said stem from me, whether I have said them or not."8
Another example is the commandment of Islam to make, at least once in a lifetime, the pilgrimage to the holy places in Mecca. Abraham I. Katsh maintains that this practice was adopted from Judaism (see Ex. 23:14ff; Deut. 16:16–17).9 Yet the assumption is unfounded. The Hajj was a common practice in the Arabian peninsula already in pre-Islamic times and it was adopted by Islam, which gave it an ethiological and monotheistic interpretation, just as Judaism did with the many pagan relics it preserved.
There are, of course, many cases in which direct influence of one religion on another can be established with certainty, especially direct influence of Judaism on Islam; not only in basic concepts and ideas, biblical narratives10 (such as the stories of the Patriarchs) and laws, but also with regard to minor details of which two examples are given here, though the main subject of this article is the second stage of Muslim-Jewish interaction, in which Judaism was influenced by Islam.
Originally, the Islamic fast, which is now Ramadan, was held on the tenth day of the first month, from sunset to sunset, like the Jewish Day of Atonement. The change to a whole month's fast was probably the result of Muhammad's disillusion with the Jews and his wish to sever relations with Judaism. Nevertheless, an interesting example of Jewish influence is seen in the verse of the Qur'an: "... and eat and drink until you distinguish between the white thread that becomes distinct to you from the black thread at dawn (or: of the dawn)" (Sura II, 187). The source of this verse is almost certainly the Mishnah Ber. 1, 1: "When is the morning prayer said? When blue can be distinguished from white." For the Jew, wrapped in his usually white prayer shawl with blue stripes, these words had a real meaning, but transferred to an entirely foreign sphere they reveal the direct influence of Judaism.11
To the same category belongs a passage of the story in the Qur'an of Joseph (Sura XII) and its commentaries. When Potiphar's wife heard that the women were gossiping about her passion for Joseph, she invited them to a meal and gave each a knife. When Joseph entered they were so overwhelmed by his handsomeness that they cut themselves. The knife was presumably to cut fruit which was placed before them, but the name of the fruit is not given in the Qur'an. The story is also found in later Midrashim, eg., the Midrash ha-Gadol, which was composed under Muslim influence of the Qur'an. But the commentators state that it was the etrog, the citron, a fruit which was completely unknown in the northern Arabian peninsula. The Israelites, on the other hand, already knew this fruit, perhaps even as early as the Babylonian captivity, and they perhaps transmitted this story to Islam together with the story of Joseph.12
ISLAMIC INFLUENCE ON JUDAISM
We now return to the second period in the history of Jewish-Muslim relations, the long period in which Islam exerted its influence on Judaism. This investigation is still in its initial stage, even though many scholars—mainly Jewish—have dealt with it since the 19th century, and the results of their research are published in scores of books and hundreds of articles scattered through periodicals and books.
The philosophical and theological influence of Islam on Jewish thought in the Middle Ages, or on the history and way of life of the Jews in Muslim culture, is now generally recognized. The many studies of Goldziher (published mainly in REJ and MGWJ, and most of them now collected in several volumes by D. Desomogyi) have perhaps also brought about a general recognition of the fact that Muslim sources contain much material for the study of Jewish history and religious way of life. But only few scholars, especially S. D. Goitein, G. Vajda, N. Wieder and M. Zucker, have hitherto discussed the influence of Islamic religious terminology and practice on Jewish literature and practice. S. D. Goitein's monumental A Mediterranean Society has become a major breakthrough in this respect as well, although its more important contributions lie, of course, in the completely new description and analysis of Jewish social and economic history under Islam in the Middle Ages.
Judeo-Arabic also has been studied so far mainly from its linguistic angle-as the counterpart of Christian-Arabic—or as an additional aspect of middle-Arabic. Arabic was the main language of the Jews in speech and religious literature in all its varieties; a close examination may help to appreciate the tremendous religious influence of Islam on Jewish medieval scholars, which is more than a mere linguistic phenomenon. Scores of religious Islamic terms permeated Jewish literature, including denominations of the Torah by Qur'anic terms such as al-Kitab, al-Shari'a, al-Ma\haf, al-Nuzul, Um al-Kitab and even al-Qur'an. Chapters of the Torah were called a "Sura" (verses retained their Hebrew name Pasuq, although for the plural an Arabic form was used, Pawas<q). The oral law was called Sunna or Eiqh, the cantor Imam, Jerusalem became Dar-a-Salam, Abraham "Khalil Allah," Moses "Rasul-Allah" like Muhammad; the Messiah was called "al-Qa'im al-Muntazar" like the awaited Messiah of the Shi'ites; the direction of prayer to the east was named "al-Qibla," which is the name the Muslims gave their direction of prayer to the south towards Mecca. There are, in addition, hundreds of religious words that may be classified as mere linguistic phenomena, such as al-Mu'minun (the believers); Nawafil (optional prayer); Jama'a (congregation, community; also minyan, the quorum of ten men required for Jewish prayer); Bid'a (undesirable religious innovation), etc.13 In contrast to the west, where Jews never used their non-Hebrew names for religious purposes, Jews used their Arabic names in the synagogue, in marriage contracts, etc.
Combined Hebrew-Arabic phrases, such as Salat al-Shaharit, or Laylat al-Pesah and such terms as Qad< and Muft< (judge) and Fatwa (halakhic responsa) were also widely used. Apart from these, Jewish literature is full of literal quotations from the Qur'an and the Hadith, as well as from later religious literature of Islam. Medieval translations of Arabic works into Hebrew, such as Abraham ben Hasdai's translation of al-Ghazal<'s M<zan al-Amal ("The Scales of Justice") also retained Qur'anic verses and Hadith sayings in the Hebrew version, but sometimes added biblical verses and sayings of the Jewish Sages.14 The Jewish authors often changed the proper names, but seldom the quotation itself. For instance, instead of "Aisha," the wife of the Prophet Muhammad, they quoted "the Prophetess Deborah"; instead of writing "said Umar ibn Khattab," they wrote "said Rabbi Akiva"; they replaced Abu Hanifa and al-Shaf<'< by Ravina and Rav Ashi; the expression "said the Messenger of Allah" by "said one of the Prophets" or "one of the sons of the Prophets" and "the words of al-Sahaba" ("the Companions of the Prophets") by "the words of our Sages," etc.15 Moreover, in the Cairo Genizah (see below, note 32) and other places, verses of the Qur'an (especially the two last Suras) and fragments of Arabic religious literature (for instance, verses of the mystic martyr al-Hallaj or of al-Ghazal<'s autobiography) were found in Arabic, but in Hebrew transcription, apparently for use as amulets or for study. During the Middle Ages the whole Qur'an was also transcribed word for word in Hebrew characters. Unlike some scholars, who consider the use of Hebrew characters in writing Arabic proof of the fact that the spiritual assimilation of the Jews to Islamic culture was less extensive than their assimilation to modern European culture, it is maintained that the Jewish use of Arabic is much more than a mere linguistic phenomenon, and had far-reaching cultural-religious repercussions. Medieval Judaism in the Arab East was not only arabicized, but in almost every sphere of life—and not only in philosophy and theology—it bore the stamp of Islam.16
A few examples, some better known than others, are given here. The first is taken from the field of linguistics, but its significance exceeds this field by far. The linguistic skill of the Arabs and their veneration of the Arabic language, from the dawn of their civilization (cf. pre-Islamic poetry), may have been one of the reasons that the Qur'an, the Word of Allah, may have been one of the best miraculous proofs of the truth of Muhammad's message (just as, according to the Hadith, the previous prophets had performed their own miracles, each in conformity with the characteristics of either his people or times).17 Hence the interesting Muslim theological doctrine, according to which the Qur'an is superior to other holy writs not only from the religious, but also (and mainly so) from the linguistic-stylistic viewpoint and, therefore, cannot be imitated by men.18 This veneration of language as such was adopted by the medieval Jews (Moses ibn Ezra was one of the intermediaries) and even led to a revival of Hebrew among them to attempt to demonstrate that Hebrew was in no way inferior to the rich language of their Muslim neighbors. Even the Muslim belief that the Quraish, the tribe to which the prophet belonged, spoke a purer language than the other Arabs, had its Jewish parallel in the belief that the tribes of Yehuda and Binyamin, or the Jerusalemites, spoke the purest form of Hebrew.18
The second example is from the field of history. It was a strange phenomenon, alien to the spirit of the People of the Book, that some of our false messiahs, who appeared in the shadow of Islam, boasted of their illiteracy and were proud to claim that they could neither read nor write. This motif is found in Judaism only in the appearance of some later false messiahs. Again, we may have here an obvious case of Muslim influence, namely of the concept of al-Nab< al-Ummi, a title conferred on Muhammad on the basis of an obscure expression in the Qur'an, the original meaning of which was that Muhammad considered himself as the prophet who was sent to all nations, but very soon it was interpreted as "the prophet who cannot read and write."19
This motif was transmitted to Judaism, but it is so alien to the spirit of Judaism that it justifies the assumption that it was a Muslim motif which the false messiahs needed to rally the ignorant masses of Israel behind them.
The next example belongs to an entirely different sphere. Judaism and Islam both possess a special class of literature which, to a large extent, fulfills the part that is taken in other cultures by the written law, the responsa literature. This literature consists of legal decisions given in answer to questions by individuals. These responsa (Fatwa pl. Fatawa in Arabic) have the force of decisions of law, and have been collected in tens of books which, both in Judaism and Islam, serve as textbooks of legal precedents and as the basis of subsequent decisions. It is true that Roman law also knew this genre of legal literature (Jus Respondendi), and the assumption that the Jewish and Muslim responsa literature was derived from the Roman practice cannot be rejected offhand.
However, with regard to Judaism and Islam, it is difficult to establish with certainty what preceded what. In general, one can state, however, that a great part of Muslim religious law developed in Iraq was influenced to a certain extent by the Jewish halakhic activity, which reached its zenith there under the Geonim. It seems, therefore, reasonable to assume, with Goitein, that the well-developed halakhic literature left its imprint on the early law of Islam, but on the other hand, the possibility should be considered that the development of Jewish halakhah received momentum as a result of the rise and influence of Islam.20 Moreover, it should be kept in mind that Islam had the same needs as Judaism, which led to the growth of a similar halakhic literature, and vice versa. The tremendous socio-economic revolution the Jews faced under Muslim rule (their transition from a people of farmers to a people of merchants) led to the rise of laws similar to those of Islam, which is, to a considerable extent, the product of a middle-class, mercantile civilization.21
However this may be, the fact remains that the two religions, Judaism and Islam, seem to be the only halakhic religions in the world (the Muslim name for halakhah is Shari'a," meaning the main road; and the various halakhic schools are called "Madhahib, " a root also related to "going" and expressing—just like the Hebrew term halakhah—the idea of a "way of life"). As mentioned above, both possess a sacred oral law alongside the written law; and both created a huge literature of religious law, chiefly by means of rational analogy. In both, this was the work of independent religious scholars (Fuqaha, Ulama—in Arabic) and in both, different schools of law are all considered equally orthodox. In both, religious preoccupation with the religious law is considered a Divine precept, and both even believe that God Himself engages in the same activity together with His heavenly companions; both have similar basic principles (cf., for instance, the idea of "The power of permission is preferable," in the Babylonian Talmud, Ber. 60a to the end of Sura II in the Qur'an), and similar categories to classify all human deeds and scores of identical legal details. It is, however, impossible to determine with certainty when the literary genre of Responsa first appeared, or whether it was the result of the influence of one religion on another. There are hardly any Jewish responsa from the time preceding R. Yehuda Gaon (middle of the 8th century), and in Islam there were, up to the same time, only a few "private" responsa from such individuals as Ibrahim al-Nakh'i of al-Kufa, who lived in the first century of the Hegira. According to those scholars who believe that this literary genre already occurs in the Talmud, and that the geonim only continued the work of earlier Jewish Sages, the responsa literature would have been taken over by Islam from Judaism, but the question still requires thorough research.22 I. Goldziher, on the other hand, showed that, in some details at least, the influence of Islamic responsa literature on Judaism can be asserted with some certainty. Much of the Jewish responsa literature in Islamic countries was written in Arabic, and the questions addressed to the Sage from all over the world, sometimes open with this formula: "Let our master teach us, and may the Lord give him a double reward." But why a double reward? Goldziher showed that this formula is based on a popular Hadith saying, ascribed to the Prophet, which says: "If a judge rules with deliberation and his decision is right, he shall receive a double reward from the Lord."23
One more example of responsa literature illustrates Islamic influence on Judaism, even though this whole literary religious genre may have first started in Islam under Jewish influence. Jewish religious literature proscribes the playing of any musical instrument on Sabbath and holidays as a token of mourning over the destruction of the Temple. However, during the period between Saadiah Gaon and Maimonides, another strange argument for this prohibition was added: here it is linked to the immoral ways of musicians and singers (especially female singers). It seems that this reflects the general religious Muslim negative attitude to music (with the exception of the pietist Sufis, who cultivated religious music). Some Muslim scholars even forbade singers and musicians to appear as witnesses in court, since their profession made them unfit to give evidence. Jewish Sages in the same period followed this example and forbade singers to give evidence in court since they were considered transgressors.24
RABBI ABRAHAM, THE SON OF MAIMONIDES
This final chapter deals with the interesting topic of Rabbi Abraham, the son of Maimonides, who succeeded his father as the head of the Jewish community in Egypt (1204–37) and, more generally, with the influence of Muslim Sufi pietism and mysticism on Judaism. This Muslim movement and its marvellous religious literature had a tremendous impact on the Jews, who were attracted by it even more than by Arab philosophy.25 That some Jews actually joined Sufi groups is attested by Muslim sources as well as by Jewish letters from the genizah. S. D. Goitein published a heart-rending letter from a poor Jewish woman to the Nagid David (probably the David II Maimonides who, in the middle of the 14th century, became one of the leaders of Egyptian Jewry), in which she implores him to help her bring her husband Basir back to her from the company of "al-Fuqara" (the Muslim mystics; literally: the poor). Basir had forsaken his wife and children and taken up residence in a Sufi convent on a mountain near Cairo. His wife expressed her fear that he would abandon Judaism and that their three children would follow his example.26
Fragments of poetical and prose works of the Muslim mystics, in their original language but in Hebrew transcription, were found in the Cairo Genizah, and R. Abraham Gavison of Tlemcen in Algeria (d. 1605) says in his commentary on the Proverbs that "every educated man must be impressed by the great philosopher Abu Hamid al-Ghazali," whose books are studied by many Jewish scholars.27 Al-Ghazali was, of course, not only one of the great Muslim thinkers, but also an outstanding Sufi pietist. Jewish writers, however, never reached the same degree of extreme ecstasy which the Muslim mystics sought, and which induced them to tear down the partitions between religions, between good and evil and even between God and man.
The story of R. Abraham the son of Maimonides is one of the most striking episodes in the history of this influence.28 R. Abraham (d. 1237), who had inherited the function of Ra'is al-Yahud (leader of the Jews) from his father, was not only a leader and a halakhic scholar (see the volume of his Responsa published by C. Freiman and S. D. Goitein), but also an outstanding Sufi. He wrote a great pietist Sufi compendium named Kifat al-'abidin (The Sufficient Book for the Servants of God), and tried to win his generation over to the Sufi way of life and to prove to them, with the help of a great many quotations from Jewish sources, that this was the true way for God-fearing men. Although opinions differ as to his sources, there is no doubt that he was deeply influenced by the world of Sufism, with which he had become closely acquainted in Egypt.29 Rabbi Abraham argued that Islam, especially in its Sufi version, preserved many elements of the practices and teachings of the ancient Jewish Sages, which the latter had intentionally neglected with the appearance of pietist heretic circles. Among these elements were kneeling and prostration during prayer, ritual immersions, nightly prayers, etc. Early Islam adopted these ceremonies, as well as the attending feelings of awe for the Day of Judgment and disgust of this world. In the world of Islam all these elements were developed in a special way in the Sufi movement, and that is why they are so closely related to the ancient Jewish Sages.
R. Abraham did not, however, content himself with theoretical study alone. His conviction induced him to demand the return to the ancestral customs by imitating the Muslim surroundings, for instance in the matter of prayer. In one section of his work he suggests the removal of pillows from the synagogues and instead to spread prayer-mats and carpets on the floor as in the mosques, and to prostrate as the Muslims in prayer,30 and he praises the respectful silence in the mosques, which was in flagrant contrast to the noise and lack of devotion in the synagogues of his day. R. Abraham's suggestion, however, was not adopted, as we learn from the genizah documents. The members of his congregation filed a complaint against him with al-Malik al-'Adil, the ruler, the brother and heir of Saladin, that he tried to force upon them innovations (Bid'a) forbidden by their religion. This was in contravention of the laws of Islam, which in this respect were also applied to the non-Muslim communities under its jurisdiction. R. Abraham was compelled to apologize to the Muslim ruler and to announce that he did not intend to abuse his authority as leader of the Jewish community by introducing such religious innovations.31
Judeo-Arabic culture should not, therefore, be treated as a Jewish culture which merely expressed itself in Arabic, but as a common Jewish-Muslim culture cultivated by Jews who lived under the rule of Islam, spoke Arabic, and were deeply influenced not only by some spheres of Islamic civilization, such as Muslim philosophy, but by Islam as a religion in its widest sense.
1. H. A. R. Gibb, "The Influence of Islamic Culture on Medieval Europe," in: John Rylands Library Bulletin, 38 (1955–56), 82–98, esp. 85–87.
2. See, e.g., R. Moses b. Maimon Responsa, ed. and transl. from the Arabic into Hebrew by J. Blau, Jerusalem, 1957, II, 726ff (in Hebrew). This does not mean that Jewish Sages, Maimonides included, refrained from stressing the basic differences and points of dispute between Judaism and Islam.
3. Cf. Mishnah, Ber. 5:1, 5: "None may stand up to say the Tefillah save in sober mood. The pious men of old used to wait an hour before they said the Tefillah that they might direct their heart towards God."
4. S. D. Goitein, Jews and Arabs, their Contacts through the Ages, Schocken, N. Y. 1955, 178–79.
5. Many of those regulations were taken over by Islam from Byzantine legislation. Cf. A. S. Tritten, The Caliphs and their non-Muslim Subjects (London, 1930) and Encyclopaedia of Islam v. DHIMMA.
6. This aspect was especially stressed by J. Guttmann in his studies. See e.g., his Philosophies of Judaism (transl. by D. W. Silverman), The Jewish Publication Society of America, Phila., Pa. 1964, Ch. II, and see his article, "Religion u. Wissenschaft im mittelalterlichen u. modernen Denken," in: Festschrift zum 50. Bestehen der Hochschule fcr die Wissenschaft des Judentums, Berlin 1922, 146–240. In spite of the feeling of alliance, as it were, there also flourished of course a whole genre of polemic literature, especially Islamic polemics against Judaism and Christianity, often composed by Jewish or Christian converts to Islam. Cf. M. Perlmann, "The Medieval Polemics between Judaism and Islam," in: S.D. Goitein (ed.), Religion in a Religious Age, Association for Jewish Studies, Ktav Publishing House, New York 1974, 103 ff, and especially the general bibliography mentioned there on 135–38. Cf. now also his ed. and transl. of Shaykh Damanhuri on the Churches of Cairo, University of California Press 1975, and see Hava Lazarus-Yafeh, Studies in Al-Ghazzali, Jerusalem, Magnes Press, Appendix A.
7. See G. Weil, Oral Tradition in Judaism and Islam (Hebrew), Magnes Anniversary Book, Jerusalem 1938, 132–42. (English summary, ibid., XXXI-XXXVIII)
8. Cf. I. Goldziher, Vorlesungen cber den Islam, Heidelberg 1925, Ch. II, 44.
9. See A. I. Katsh, Judaism in Islam, Biblical and Talmudic Backgrounds of the Koran and its Commentators, New York 1954, Sura II, 193, 137–39, and cf. my review of the Hebrew translation of this book (in Hebrew) in Ha-Mizrah he-Hadash, the New East, Quarterly of the Israel Oriental Society, 9 (1958/9), 111–12.
10. A. Geiger's above-mentioned study was translated into English by M. Young as Judaism and Islam, Madras 1848 (and reprinted by Ktav, New York, 1970 with a prolegomenon by M. Perlmann) and was followed by many studies. It should be noted here again that many of these Jewish (and Christian) stories (Isra'iliyyat) were "Islamicized," as it were, and elaborated upon in special Muslim collections called Qi\a\ al-Anbiya. Afterwards these Islamic versions of ancient biblical stories exercised clear influence on late Hebrew Midrashim, thus proving once more the "closed circle" relationship mentioned above between the two cultures. Cf. e.g., J. Heinemann, Aggadah and Its Development (Hebrew), Jerusalem 1973, Ch. 12 (on the late Midrash "Pirkei de Rabbi Eliezer"). The study and translation of the various "Qi\a\ al-Anbiya" as a literary genre of Arabic religious literature was only recently begun.
11. G. Vajda, "Jeune Musulmane et Jeune Juif," HUCA, 12–13 (1938), 1938, 369. Encyclopaedia of Islam v. Ramadan (S. D. Goitein).
12. Cf. Encyclopaedia Judaica, Etrog." See also S. D. Goitein, Jews and Arabs, 193. According to Goitein this specific Arabic version of the Joseph story may have its origins in early Persian literature, ibid., 194–95.
13. Cf. J. Blau, The Emergence and Linguistic Background of Judeo-Arabic, Oxford 1965, 158ff (Appendix II, c). Idem in: Tarbiz, Quarterly for Jewish Studies, 15 (1970/71), 512–14; see also the innumerable Judeo-Arabic texts, such as Saadiah Gaon's Siddur (Book of Prayers), his translations of the Bible into Arabic or his famous Kitab al-Amanat wa'al-Itiqadat—Book of Beliefs and Opinions (transl. into English by S. Rosenblatt, Yale University Press). The same holds true for Judeo-Persian Literature. Cf. e.g., H. H. Paper, A Judeo-Persian Pentateuch, Jerusalem 1972, passim. This may mean that we deal not only with Arabic linguistic influences, but with Islamic influences.
14. The Hebrew translation of the book was published with a Hebrew introduction by J. Goldenthal, Paris 1839, with the title Compendium Doctrinae Ethicae, auctore al-Ghazzali Tusensi, philosophe Arabum clarissimo, de arabico hebraice conversum ab Abrahamo bar Chasdai Barcinonensi (liber argumento luculentissimus et oratione dulcissimus...). Cf. also M. Gottstein, "Translations and Translators in the Middle Ages," Gotthold E. Weil Jubilee Volume, Jerusalem 1953, 74–80.
15. A. S. Halkin (ed. and transl. into Hebrew), Moshe b. Ya'akov ibn Ezra, Kitab al-Muhadara wal-l-Mudhakara, Liber Discussions et Commemorationis (Poetica Hebraica) passim and see A. S. Yahuda (ed.), Al-Hidaya Ila Fara'id Al-Qulub des Bahja ibn Josef Ibn Paquda aus Andalusien, Leiden 1912. Introduction (German), Ch. 3.
16. See S. D. Goitein's monumental A Mediterranean Society, especially Vol. II The Community, University of California Press 1971 and Vol. III Daily Life and the Individual, 1976. As for specific influences cf. also N. Wieder, Islamic Influences on Jewish Worship (Hebrew), Oxford 1957 or M. Zucker, "The Problem of Isma—Prophetic Immunity to Sin and Error in Islamic and Jewish Literatures" (Hebrew), Tarbiz 35 (1966), 149–73 (English summary p. VII). Yet one has to be very careful, especially when dealing with details. Cf. e.g., S. D. Goitein's Review of J. Blau's edition of Maimonides' Responsa: "Maimonides as Chief Justice," in: JQR 49 (1958/9), 191–204, especially 198, n. 25. Nevertheless, the fact of Islamic influence on medieval Oriental Judaism is today acknowledged almost unanimously among students of Jewish history. Cf. also A. S. Halkin, "Judeo-Arabic Literature," in: L. Finklestein (ed.) The Jews, Their History, Culture and Religion II, New York 1960, 1116–48; G. Vajda, Introduction B la PensIe Juive au Moyen Age, Paris 1947. It is interesting to discern the same acknowledgement of general influence and the same reservation with regard to specific religious influences in the study of Islamic influences on the Christian West. As against this see, e.g., G. Makdisi's studies, for example his articles: "The Scholastic Method in Medieval Education...," in Speculum 49 (1974), 640–61, esp. 641, 661.
17. Cf. El2 v. I'djaz.
18. Cf. A. S. Halkin, "The Medieval Attitude Toward Hebrew," in: A. Altmann (ed.) Biblical and Other Studies, Brandeis University. P. W. Lown Institute of Advanced Studies, Studies and Texts I, Harvard University Press 1963 and Moshe Ibn Ezra, ibid., i.e., p. 42 ff, 54 ff.
19. See El v. Ummi. I. Goldziher, Vorlesungen, ibid., Ch. I, 27 ff. Cf. also W. M. Watt, Bell's Introduction into the Qur'an, Edinburgh 1970 (Islamic Surveys 8), 33ff.
20. See J. Schacht, An Introduction into Islamic Law, Oxford 1964, 20–21; S. D. Goitein, Jews and Arabs, 59–61; idem, Introduction into Muslim Law, in: Goitein–Ben-Shemesh Muslim Law in Israel (Hebrew), Jerusalem 1957. For a different view with regard to the responsa see A. J. Rosenthal, Judaism and Islam, Popular Jewish Library, 1961, 55. See also M. A. Friedman, "The Ransom Divorce, Proceedings in Medieval Jewish Practice," Israel Oriental Studies VI, 1976, 288–307, esp. 298–99.
21. See S. D. Goitein, Jews and Arabs, ch. VI, 89 ff. and cf. idem, A Mediterranean Society I, Economic Foundations, University of California Press, 1967, esp. chs. II, III.
22. Cf. also EI2 v. Fatwa.
23. I. Goldziher, ">ber eine Formel in der Jcdischen Responsa Literatur und in den Muh. Fatwas," ZDMG, 53 (1899), 645–52 (Jewish medieval sources trace this formula back to Isaiah 57:14).
24. Cf. B. M. Lewin (ed.), Ozar ha-Ge'onim, Gittin, Jerusalem 1941, 10, Responsum 20. On Music in Islam, see now A. Shiloh, "The Dimension of Sound," in: B. Lewis (ed.), The World of Islam, London 1976, esp. 168. Cf. also EI2v. 'Adl; EI1v. Shahid and Th. W. Juynboll, Handbuch des Islamischen Gesetzes, Leiden 1910, 316.
25. Cf. e.g., G. Vajda, "La Theologie Ascetique de Bahya ibn Paquda," in: Cahiers de la Societe Asiatique, 7 (1947); F. Rosenthal, "A Judeo-Arabic work under Sufi influence," HUCA 15 (1940), 443–84; R. J. Z. Werblowsky, "Faith, Hope and Trust: A Study in the Concept of Bitahon," Annual of Jewish Studies, London 1964, 118ff.
26. S. D. Goitein, "A Jewish Addict to Sufism," JQR, 44 (1953), 37–49.
27. Omer ha-Shikhhah (Hebrew) Livorno 1748, 138a.
28. For a full account see S. D. Goitein, "Abraham Maimonides and his Pietist Circle" (English), in: A. Altmann (ed.), Jewish Medieval and Renaissance Studies, P. W. Lown Institute of Advanced Jewish Studies, Brandeis University, Studies and Texts IV, Harvard University Press, 1967, 145–64; and the bibliography mentioned there in note 1. Cf. also idem, i.a., "A Treatise in Defense of the Pietists by Abraham Maimonides," JJS, 16 (1966), 105–14; Jews and Arabs, 182ff.; A Mediterranean Society II, 1971, 156–57, 406–7; G. Cohen, "The Soteriology of R. Abraham Maimoni," PAAJR, 35 (1967), 75–98; 36 (1968), 33–48. An analysis, edition and English translation of parts of R. Abraham's Kifayat al- 'Abidin is to be found in S. Rosenblatt (ed.), The Highways to Perfection of Abraham Maimonides I, New York 1927, II Baltimore 1938.
29. Scholars are divided upon the question and some, like G. Cohen, try to minimize Islamic influences on R. Abraham.
30. It may be important to note here that from many aspects there is a much greater affinity between a synagogue and a mosque than between the former and a church, especially a Catholic church. Cf. for example, the common prohibition of paintings and sculptures of men and animals based on Exodus 20:4–5 and cf. Sura V, 91 and the commentaries thereon. (This prohibition did not hinder the rise of the fine arts, especially in Islam. Cf. K. A. C. Creswell, "The Lawfulness of Painting in Early Islam," ARS Islamica 11 (1946), 159–66 and cf. EI-Sura; cf. now also the general survey of R. Ettinghausen, "Decorative Arts and Paintings: Their Character and Scope, in: J. Schacht and C. E. Bosworth (ed.): The Legacy of Islam2, Oxford 1974; 274ff. and the bibliography mentioned there 291–92.) Suffice it to mention here that the religious law of both Judaism and Islam permits paintings, sculptures, etc., of people and animals, only if they are maimed or put on the earth to be trodden upon.
31. The most interesting documents concerning this affair were preserved in the Cairo Genizah (see Encyclopaedia Judaica—v. genizah, especially in the Supplementary entries vol. XVI; cf. also S. D. Goitein—A Mediterranean Society I, Introduction and idem (ed.) Religion in a Religious Age, 139ff.
Year Book 1977–78 Feature
[Abraham Solomon Halkin]