Without doubt both Habus and Badis permitted the Jewish vizir to exercise authority over the Jewish congregations of Granada, similar to that which Chasdaï and Ibn-Jau had possessed in Cordova. Samuel was named chief and prince (Nagid) of the Jews, and this title is used by Jewish authors. The minister of state was also the rabbi; he presided over the school, where he delivered lectures on the Talmud to his disciples. He gave judicial decisions on religious questions, and in fact completely filled the functions of a rabbi of the time. The same pen which wrote the decrees of the government was used for treatises and discourses on the Talmud. Samuel Nagid compiled a methodology of the Talmud (Mebo ha-Talmud), in which he clearly explained the technical expressions of the Talmud. As an introduction, he added a list of the bearers of tradition from the men of the Great Assembly through the successive authorities of the Tanaite, Amoraite, Saburaite, and Gaonic schools down to Moses and Chanoch, his teachers. He afterwards composed a commentary to the whole Talmud for religious practices, which was afterwards highly prized, and was recognized as the standard authority (Hilchetha Gabriatha). Samuel Ibn-Nagrela was also a neo-Hebraic poet, and employed both rhyme and meter skilfully. He composed prayers in the form of psalms, full of religious depth and submission, and called the collection the Young Psalter (Ben Tehillim). He wrote thoughtful aphorisms and parables, the fruit of his deep observation of men and manners, and called this composition the younger book of Proverbs (Ben Mishle). Last he compiled a book of philosophy modeled on that of the Preacher (Ben Kohelet). The latter, written when he had attained an advanced age, was the most successful of his works, and is full of deep thought and eloquence. He also composed epigrams and songs of praise, but his poetic compositions, both secular and spiritual, are heavy and dull, full of thought, but devoid of beauty of form. It became proverbial to say, "Cold as the snow of Hermon, or as the songs of the Levite Samuel."
It is not remarkable that a man of such pure integrity and deep appreciation of wisdom and religion should spread blessings around him, should advance science and poetry, and should support learning with princely generosity. Samuel was in communication with the most prominent men of his time, in Irak, Syria, Egypt, and Africa, especially with the last of the great Geonim, Haï and with Nissim. He gave rich gifts to the learned, he had copies of books made to be presented to poor students, arousing dormant talents and becoming the protector of his countrymen, far and near. The greatest poet of the time, Ibn-Gebirol, he comforted in his distress. A writer of the following generation aptly describes him in the words, "In Samuel's time the kingdom of science was raised from its lowliness, and the star of knowledge once more shone forth; God gave unto him a great mind which reached to the spheres and touched the heavens, so that he might love knowledge and those that pursued her, and that he might glorify religion and her followers."
The position of the Jews in a country in which one of them held the reins of government was naturally high. In no country of the world did they enjoy so complete an equality as in the city of Granada. It was as a ray of sunshine after days of gloom. They were, in fact, more highly favored by the ruling race, the Berbers, than the Arab population, who bore the yoke of the Sinhajas with silent anger, and whose glances were always directed to the neighboring city of Seville, in which a king of pure Arab race wore the crown.
The minister of state and rabbi, Ibn-Nagrela, also occupied himself with researches into the structure of the holy language, but this was his weak point. He did not get beyond the rules laid down by Chayuj. He was so partial to this master that he could not appreciate new efforts. Samuel composed twenty-two theses on Hebrew grammar. Only one, however, Sefer-ha Osher, the "Book of Riches," is worthy of mention. The rest were only polemic treatises directed against the great Hebrew linguist, Ibn Janach, towards whom Samuel was unfriendly. Ibn Janach, the greatest Hebraist of his time—no less an ornament of Spanish Judaism than the vizir Ibn-Nagrela—deserves a special page in Jewish history, more especially because for a long time he was unknown and then misunderstood. Jonah Marinus (in Arabic, Abulvalid Mervan Ibn-Janach, born about 995, died 1050), was educated in Cordova, where after the death of Chasdaï all hearts were filled with enthusiasm for knowledge and a devoted love for the holy language. Isaac Ibn-G'ikatilia, of the school of Menachem, taught him Hebrew grammar, and Isaac Ibn-Sahal was his teacher in prosody. He studied medicine in the high school of Cordova, founded by the Caliph Alhakem. In his youth Ibn-Janach, like everybody at that period, made verses, which even later on, when his taste was developed, did not appear to him entirely bad. But he gave up versifying in order to devote himself entirely to the study of the Hebrew language in all its ramifications. He lived entirely for this study, and obtained such mastery of it that up to the present day he has not been surpassed. Posterity has learnt much from Ibn-Janach, but students of the Hebrew language can yet learn much more. Like his opponent Ibn-Nagrela, he also was compelled to leave Cordova after its destruction by Suleiman of Barbary (1013), when he settled in Saragossa. The Jews of Saragossa were for the most part still laboring under the delusion that rabbinical Judaism would be injured by research, and especially by grammatical investigations. Ibn-Janach nevertheless devoted himself to the study of the structure of the Hebrew language and to the explanation of the text of the Bible. He also pursued the study of medicine both theoretically and practically; but his chief attention was directed to a thorough exegesis of the Bible, and grammatical research with him was not an end in itself, but simply the means for a better comprehension of Holy Writ. Ibn-Janach, in his researches, reached conclusions not discovered by Chayuj. The alterations which on this account he necessarily had to make in the grammatical system of Chayuj, were made modestly and with due recognition of its merits. He had the greatest admiration for the founder of Hebrew philology, but like Aristotle, "his love of truth was greater than his love of Plato." This independence of Chayuj's teaching aroused the anger of the latter's followers, chief amongst whom was Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, and the disputes that arose ended in bitter personalities. The two chief exponents of the Jewish culture of this period, the noble-minded prince and the master of the Hebrew language, thus became bitter, irreconcilable enemies.
Feeling the approach of old age, which with Plato he calls "the mother of forgetfulness," Ibn-Janach devoted himself to his greatest work, wherein he summed up his researches, and deposited the treasures of his soul life. Ibn-Janach was not only the creator of the science of Hebrew syntax, but he also developed it almost to perfection. None before him, and but few since his time, have entered into all the niceties of the holy language with so much discrimination as Ibn-Janach. He first drew attention to the ellipses, and to the misplacement of letters and verses in the Holy Scriptures, and he was sufficiently daring to explain that various dark and apparently inexplicable expressions were due to the change of a letter or a syllable. He explained over two hundred obscure passages by means of the supposition that the writer had substituted an inappropriate word for a more fitting one. By the insertion of the correct word, Ibn-Janach often gives the intended meaning to a number of verses which up to his time had been interpreted in a childish way. He was the first rational Bible critic. Although convinced of the divinity of Holy Writ, he did not, like others, rate the language so highly as to accept sheer nonsense; but he assumed that, even though inspired, words addressed to mankind must be interpreted according to the rules of human language. Ibn-Janach did not, indeed, assert that the copyists and punctuators had altered or corrupted the holy literature from want of understanding, but that being human they had erred. He justly called his chief work (which with five others he wrote in Arabic) "Critique" (Al Tanchik), and divided it into two parts—into grammar with exegesis ("Al-Luma', Rikmah"), and lexicon ("Kitab Al-Assval").
Although Ibn-Janach had many enemies amongst those who belittled him, and amongst those who condemned him as a heretic on account of his scientific treatment of the Bible, yet in his work he never mentions them in anger, and, in fact, had he been the only one concerned, the world would never have known of the enmity of Samuel Ibn-Nagrela towards him. Ibn-Janach was not unacquainted with philosophy. He refers to Plato and Aristotle in a scholarly manner. He also wrote a book on logic in the Aristotelian spirit. But he was opposed to metaphysical researches into the relation of God to the world, and first principles, speculations with which his countrymen, and especially Ibn-Gebirol, concerned themselves, because he considered that such matters did not lead to any definite knowledge, and that they undermine belief. Ibn-Janach was a clear thinker, and opposed to any extravagant or eccentric tendency. He was the opposite of the third of the triumvirate of this period, his townsman Ibn-Gebirol, with whom his relations apparently were not of the pleasantest kind.
Solomon Ibn-Gebirol—His early life—His poems—The statesman Yekutiel Ibn-Hassan befriends him—Murder of Yekutiel—Bachya Ibn-Pakuda and his moral philosophy—The Biblical critic Yizchaki ben Yasus—Joseph ben Chasdaï, the Poet—Death of Samuel Ibn-Nagrela—Character of his son Joseph and his tragic fate—Death of Ibn-Gebirol—The French and German communities—Alfassi—Life and works of Rashi—Jewish scholars in Spain—King Alfonso.
1027–1070 C. E.
An ideal personage, richly endowed, a poet, and at the same time a great thinker, was Solomon Ibn-Gebirol (Jebirol), in Arabic, Abu Ayub Sulaiman Ibn-Yachya (born 1021, died 1070). His father, Judah, who lived in Cordova, appears to have emigrated with Ibn-Nagrela, during the disturbances that befell the city, to Malaga. In this place was born and bred the Jewish Plato, by whom many hearts have been warmed, and from whom many minds have gained light. It appears that Ibn-Gebirol lost his parents early, and that they left him without means. His tender, poetical soul grew sad in his loneliness; he withdrew from the outer world, and became absorbed in self-contemplation. Poetry and a faith resting upon a philosophical basis seem, like two angels, to have shadowed him with their wings, and to have saved him from despair. But they could not bring joy to his heart; his thoughts remained serious, and his songs have a mournful strain.
At an age when other men still indulge in the frivolities of youth, Ibn-Gebirol was a finished poet, outshining all his predecessors. His poems show that words and rhymes, thoughts and metaphors, readily and exuberantly came to him. He improved the Hebrew meter and softened its tones. The poetic muse, which had been personified neither in Biblical nor in neo-Hebraic poetry, he depicted as a dove with golden wings and a sweet voice. In his desolation and distress the young poet found a comforter and protector in a man whom his poems have immortalized. Yekutiel Ibn-Hassan or Alhassan appears to have had a high position in Saragossa, under King Yachya Ibn-Mondhir, similar to that held by Samuel Ibn-Nagrela in Granada. This distinguished man kindly protected the desolate poet, supported him and soothed him with his friendship. Ibn-Gebirol poured forth the praises of his patron, under whose protection his heart was taught a more cheerful philosophy of life. At this time his muse sang the praises of his patrons and friends, and his pictures of nature are bright, graphic and spirited.
But fate did not long permit him to enjoy these privileges, and before he had begun to feel the joy of living, his protector was snatched away from him. Abdallah Ibn-Hakam plotted against the king, his cousin, attacked and murdered him in his palace, and took possession of the treasures. The king's favorites were not spared by the conspirators, and Yekutiel Ibn-Alhassan was imprisoned and afterwards killed. Northern Spain was plunged into grief over the tragic end of the well-beloved Yekutiel. Ibn-Gebirol's grief was without bounds, and his elegy on his benefactor is touching, withal a model of lofty poetry. The poem numbers more than two hundred verses, and is a memorial both of the departed and of the poet. Ibn-Gebirol again fell a prey to melancholy after this incident, and his poetry henceforth reflects the gloom in which his mind was shrouded. But what would have borne down another, stimulated him to fresh flights, and he now approached the summit of his poetic and literary greatness. Versifying was so easy to him that in his nineteenth year (1040) he wrote a Hebrew grammar with all its dry rules in four hundred verses, hampering himself, moreover, by acrostic tricks, and the repetition of the same rhyme throughout (Anak). In the introduction to this poem Ibn-Gebirol describes the holy language as one favored by God, "in which the angel choirs daily praise their Creator, in which God revealed the Sinaitic Law, the prophets prophesied and the psalmists sung." He blamed his countrymen, the men of Saragossa, the blind community, for their indifference to pure Hebrew. "Some speak Idumæan (Romance), and some the language of Kedar" (Arabic). His versified Hebrew Grammar was intended to awaken love for the language of the Bible, and at the same time to teach the laws of the language.
In Saragossa, Ibn-Gebirol composed a work on moral philosophy (1045), which, without possessing the depth of his later philosophical works, is remarkable for the peculiar spirit which pervades it, and for the intimate acquaintance with the masters of philosophy evinced by this young man. By the side of the sayings of Holy Writ and ethical sentences from the Talmud, Ibn-Gebirol put the favorite sayings of the "divine Socrates," of his disciple Plato, of Aristotle, of Arabic philosophers, and more especially those of a Jewish philosopher, Alkuti (perhaps Chepez Alkuti). It is surprising how so young a writer could have had so deep an insight into the condition of the human soul and into worldly affairs. Ibn-Gebirol's writings contained scornful criticism of various personages in the community of Saragossa, whom he no doubt desired to offend. They must have felt his castigation the more keenly, as he said, "I need not mention names, for they are sufficiently well known." He describes the haughty, who look down upon their fellow-citizens, and always consider their own counsel the best, and those who, filled with hate, bear words of love on their lips. The pamphlet seems, in fact, to have been a challenge to his opponents in Saragossa. Ibn-Gebirol, in consequence of its publication, was turned out of Saragossa (in 1045) by the influential men whom he had embittered.
In return, he describes the town as a second Gomorrha in a mournful, heart-rending lamentation, the beautifully rhythmical cry of distress uttered by despair. Whither he next went is not known. The unfortunate young poet was so inconsolable that he determined, in his indignation, to leave Spain altogether, and to go to Egypt, Palestine and Babylonia. In a poem he encourages his soul in the resolve to shake off the dust of Spain. He calls to memory the example of the patriarchs and of the greatest prophet, who left their native lands and went to foreign climes. He thus apostrophizes Spain:
He did not, however, carry out his determination to emigrate, but wandered about in Spain, meeting with real or imaginary misfortunes. He complained of the inconstancy of the times and of his friends, and poured forth his plaints in beautiful verses:
The tutelary genius of the Spanish Jews, Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, appears to have taken an interest in Ibn-Gebirol, and to have found a refuge for him. For this kindness Ibn-Gebirol extolled Nagrela in melodious lines. Under the powerful protection of the Jewish minister he occupied himself with philosophical studies, which held the place next to poetry in his heart. If poetry was his beloved, philosophy was a mother to him. He thus sings:
As Ibn-Gebirol, whilst yet a child, created the most difficult artistic forms of Hebrew poetry, and handled them with sportive ease; so while still a youth, he built up a system attempting to solve the deepest problems which concern the human understanding. What is the highest aim of man? What is the nature and origin of the soul, and whither does it go when it leaves its earthly dwelling? How is the highest Being to be conceived, and how did He, being One and perfect, bring forth the manifold, corrupt and defective things of a visible world? These and many other questions Ibn-Gebirol attempted to answer, to satisfy not the believing heart, but the critical human mind, to show it its true place in the universe, to direct its attention to the invisible spirit-world above, and to the world of matter beneath, and induce it to seek the link binding them together. In the exposition of his system Ibn-Gebirol reveals a superabundant wealth of ideas, and a depth of subtle thought, so that the thinker must concentrate all his attention in order to be able to follow out his reasoning. To him, however, these extremely complicated thoughts, encircling the whole world from its very origin, and the whole range of beings down to lifeless stone, were so comprehensible that for everything he found the most fitting word and the most suitable image. Indeed, one portion of these thoughts he poured forth in a poem in the form of a prayer (Kether Malchuth), which for sublimity, elevated tone, and truth has no equal. It is true that the leading ideas of Ibn-Gebirol's system had been expressed by earlier philosophers, but he formed into one organic whole a confused mass of scattered thoughts. He developed his system in a work entitled, "The Fountain of Life" (Mekor Chayim, Fons Vitæ), written in Arabic, which he handled with as much ease as Hebrew. A Christian emperor destroyed the temple of philosophy in Athens, and exiled its last priests. Since that time philosophy had been outlawed in Europe; at least, it was little known there, and had been compelled to find a home in Asia. The Jewish thinker, Ibn-Gebirol, was the first to transplant it again to Europe, and he built an altar to it in Spain, where it found a permanent habitation.
Like Plato of a poetical nature, Ibn-Gebirol borrowed the dialogue form of composition from the Greek philosopher. His system is developed in the course of a lively conversation between a master and his disciple. He thereby avoided the usual dryness of metaphysical studies, which makes them unenjoyable. He paid so little attention to Judaism in his system, that unless the reader knows that he was a sincere Jew, thoroughly devoted to his faith, he cannot discover it in his writings. The philosophy of Ibn-Gebirol, therefore, found little favor in Jewish circles, and exercised very little influence. Jewish thinkers found the tenor of his philosophy foreign to their own mode of thinking, and the form of demonstration too involved, the explanations too fitful, the method of presentation too lacking in system, and the whole not satisfying. Ibn-Gebirol's system aroused all the more attention among the Arabs and the Christian schoolmen. A century after its appearance, his chief work was translated into Latin by the combined labor of a Christian priest and a baptized Jew. Several prominent scholastic writers subscribed to the views of Ibn-Gebirol, whom they called Avicebrol or Avicebron. Others opposed them, but all considered them. In later times, the Kabbala borrowed some formulæ from him.
Another Jewish philosopher of this time, which was so rich in great men, pursued a course different from Ibn-Gebirol's. He stood entirely upon Jewish ground, but he also introduced foreign elements into his system. Bachya (Bechaya) ben Joseph Ibn-Pakuda (Bakuda) was a model of earnest piety and altruistic morality. He established an entirely original moral theology of Judaism. Bachya was one of those natures whose energy of spirit and powerful moral force, if favored by the circumstances of the time, effect reformations. Of the details of the life of this moral philosopher absolutely nothing is known, not even the part of Spain in which he lived. We identify him wholly with his work, "Guide to the Duties of the Heart," which he wrote in Arabic. The sum and substance of its teachings is that nothing is of so much importance as that our conduct be ruled entirely by most serious religious convictions and godlike holiness of purpose. Biblical exegesis, grammar, poetry, speculative philosophy, all the pursuits with which the scholars of the age busied themselves are, according to Bachya, subordinate branches, hardly worthy of serious attention. The study of the Talmud even has no very great merit in his eyes. Bachya Ibn-Pakuda's aim was the spiritualization of Judaism. The duties which conscience demands are of infinitely greater importance to him than the ritual duties prescribed by the legal code. Like the Christian teachers of the first century, he distinguished in Judaism between the purely religious and moral injunctions and the ceremonial laws, attaching greater importance to the first than to the second.
The complete surrender to the demands of a godly, self-denying, holy life, which is the summum bonum of Bachya, remained no abstract theory with him, but was exemplified in his whole being, changing conscientiousness in him to overscrupulousness. Too subtle spiritualization of religion led Bachya to practise rigid asceticism, which appeared to him to be the highest degree of wisdom attainable by man. Judaism, according to his view, inculcates frugality and abstemiousness. The patriarchs, from Enoch to Jacob, received no laws setting limits to their pleasure, as they were unnecessary, their souls being able to overcome the lusts of the flesh. But their descendants, the Jewish nation, were commanded to be abstemious, because they had become corrupt by their intercourse with the Egyptians, and conceived a desire for luxury, when they obtained an accession of wealth at the time of the capture of the land of Canaan. For this reason the law of the Nazarite was instituted. The more degenerate the Jewish nation became, the more certain individuals, especially the prophets, felt themselves impelled to withdraw from communion with society and from worldly affairs, and to retire into seclusion and lead a contemplative life. This example men ought to follow. It is indeed impossible that all men should relinquish the world and its activity, because utter desolation would ensue, which was never intended by God. There must, however, be a class of exemplary persons, who shall deny themselves intercourse with the world (Perushim), and who shall serve as patterns to mankind to show how the passions can be curbed and controlled. Bachya came near extolling monasticism, toward which the Middle Ages, both in the Mahometan and in the Christian world, markedly inclined. Although well versed in philosophy, he would have passed his days, a Jewish hermit, in retirement from the world and in a contemplative life of meditation, like his younger contemporary, the Mahometan philosopher Alghazali, or he would have imitated the "Mourners for Zion" among the Karaites, were it not that the basis for such extravagant excesses was wanting in rabbinical Judaism.
The first rabbinical epoch was fertile in original minds, also producing a character whose course tended to shake violently the firm basis of Judaism. Abu Ibraham Isaac Ibn-Kastar (or Saktar) ben Yasus, with the literary title Yizchaki, was a man whose profound knowledge of philosophy and medicine was also celebrated among the Arabs. Born at Toledo (982, died 1057), he was appointed physician to Mujahid, the Prince of Denia, and his son Ali Ikbal Addaula. Ben Yasus composed a Hebrew grammar, under the name of "Compositions," and another work with the title of "Sefer Yizchaki," in which he displayed remarkable boldness in his Biblical explanations. He asserted especially that the portion of the Pentateuch in Genesis which treats of the kings of Edom was not written by Moses, but was interpolated some centuries later, a critical statement unique in the Middle Ages, and not advanced until very recently.
It would be wrong to pass over in silence a poet, who, for flight of fancy, depth of thought, and beauty of expression, may claim equality with Solomon Ibn-Gebirol, but of whose poems only a single one is extant, "an orphaned song," as he himself called it. Abu Amr Joseph ben Chasdaï was probably born in Cordova. His two brothers, who were compelled by the troubles of the wars in Spain to leave home, dwelt under the protection of the statesman, Samuel Ibn-Nagrela. Respect and thankfulness towards their noble patron induced Joseph ben Chasdaï to write an elevated, artistic, and highly imaginative poem, in which he eulogized Samuel and his young son Joseph with enthusiastic warmth (about 1044–1046). Samuel, who would never accept anything, not even a gift of praise, without making some return, wrote, in praise of Joseph ben Chasdaï, a similar poem in the same meter, but not possessing the same poetical beauty. Joseph ben Chasdaï left a son, who later obtained in Saragossa a position similar to that of Ibn-Nagrela in Granada.
Samuel, the pride of the Spanish Jews, who, as his biographer says, bore four crowns, the crown of the Law, of the priesthood, of renown, and pre-eminently that of magnanimity, was the soul of the Jewish congregation for over a quarter of a century, and died deeply lamented by his contemporaries (1055). He was buried at the gate of Elvira, in Granada, and his son erected a magnificent monument to him. A still finer monument was built for him by Solomon Ibn-Gebirol in a few pregnant lines:
Samuel's noble son, Abu Hussain Joseph Ibn-Nagrela (born 1031), was a worthy successor to all the honors and titles of his father. King Badis appointed him his vizir, and the Jewish community in Granada acknowledged him, although but twenty-four years of age, as their rabbi and chief (Nagid). His father had placed him under learned tutors from different countries, and in his youth he displayed extraordinary maturity of mind. Joseph, who, like his father, was well acquainted with Arabic literature, became during his father's lifetime secretary to the heir-apparent Balkin. When he was eighteen years old, his father chose a wife for him, and he did not seek her among the wealthy and noble families of Andalusia. She was the learned and virtuous daughter of the poor Nissim of Kairuan. Joseph was heir to all the greatness of his father, and though rich and surpassingly handsome, he lived, in the prime of his youth, with a moderation that presented a marked contrast to the debauchery of the Mahometan nobles. In his capacity as minister, Joseph worked for the welfare of the state, and ruled as independently as his father. He supported science and its votaries, and so great was his liberality and so lofty his nobility of soul, that even Arab poets sang his praises. "Greet his countenance," said a Mahometan of him, "for in it wilt thou find happiness and hope. Never has a friend found a flaw in him." When the sons of the last Gaon, descended from the Prince of the Captivity, fled to Spain, Joseph Ibn-Nagrela received them hospitably, and assisted them in finding a new home in Granada. The young Jewish vizir, like his father, was the head of a college, and delivered lectures on the Talmud.
In two things only did Joseph's conduct differ from his father's; he promoted his co-religionists too conspicuously to positions of state, and behaved haughtily to his subordinates. A near kinsman of his was installed in the office next beneath his own. By these acts Joseph aroused the hatred of the Berbers, the ruling population in Granada, against himself and the Jews. They envied his truly princely splendor. He had a palace which was paved with marble. Certain occurrences during his administration transformed the hatred into fierce anger. Between the heir-apparent Balkin and his former secretary Joseph there was mutual antipathy. Suddenly Balkin died, it was thought by poisoning. King Badis thereupon had some of the servants and wives of the prince executed as guilty of his death. The remainder fled in fear of a similar punishment (1064). It was popularly believed, however, that Joseph had administered the poison to the prince. An incident, in which Joseph revealed himself at once as a humane man, and as a diplomatist devoted to his master, appears to have lost him the favor of Badis. Between the Berbers who held the sovereign power in Granada and other places in Spain and the original Arabs, there raged so fierce a racial hatred that every town of mixed population was divided into two camps. On one occasion King Badis learnt that the Berber ruler in Ronda had been slain in consequence of a conspiracy of the Arabs organized by the king of Seville, and on this account he was filled with mistrust towards the Arabs of his capital. He feared at every moment that he, like his kinsman, would fall a victim to a conspiracy. He thereupon concocted a fiendish plot; he ordered his army to massacre all the Arabs of his capital during divine service on a Friday. This plan he communicated to his Jewish minister, without whose advice he did nothing, adding that his determination was so firmly made that no objections would avail to cause him to desist from his purpose, and that he expected Joseph to maintain the deepest silence about his project. Joseph, however, considered this murderous plan as a baleful political mistake, and omitted nothing whereby he might persuade the bloodthirsty monarch to abandon his design. He asked the king to consider that the plot might miscarry, and the Arabs of the town and of the suburbs might rush to arms in self-defense, and that, even if the whole Arab population were destroyed without resistance, the danger would not disappear, but rather become magnified; for the neighboring states, which, like Seville, were wholly Arab, would be excited to deadly fury, and enter upon a war of revenge against the murderers of their kinsmen. "I see them even now," said Joseph with energy; "even now do I behold them hurrying towards us, burning with rage, each one brandishing his sword over thy head, O king. Foes, countless as the waves of the sea, hurl themselves against thee, and thou and thine army are powerless." Thus spake the Jewish statesman.
Badis, nevertheless, persisted in his resolve, and issued his commands to the generals of his army. Joseph alone deemed it his duty to abstain from taking part in the mischievous design of the king against his Arab subjects, and determined to frustrate the plot even at the risk of his own life. Through the medium of certain women, on whom he could rely, he sent secret instructions to the chief Arabs of the capital, warning them not to attend the mosque on the following Friday, but to keep themselves concealed. They understood the hint and obeyed it. On the appointed Friday the troops were drawn up in readiness near the palace. The spies of Badis found in the mosque only Berbers and a few Arabs of the lower classes. Badis was thus obliged to abandon his plan; but his anger turned against his minister, whom he suspected of betraying his trust, and he reproached him bitterly for it. Joseph denied the charge of having warned the Arabs, and maintained that the plan had been revealed by the mysterious, unnecessary military preparations. Finally, he remarked that the king ought to thank God that he had protected him from impending danger. "The time will come when thou wilt approve of my view of the matter, and wilt readily follow the advice I give thee." A Berber sheik came to the support of the vizir, and Badis was appeased. But dislike lingered in his heart against his Jewish minister, and he was full of suspicion of him. Joseph could maintain his position only by the aid of spies, who reported to him every utterance of the king. The Berber population, however, noticed that the Jewish vizir was now no longer in high favor with their sovereign, and dared enter into plots against him, and follow the dictates of their hatred against him and the Jews. Damaging rumors were continually circulated about him. His enemies gained the upper hand. A fanatical Mahometan poet, Abu Ishak al-Elviri, in an inflammatory poem, stimulated the fierce enmity of the Mahometans of Granada against the Jews into energetic action. A passage in it ran as follows:—"Say unto the Sinhajas, to the mighty men of the time, and the lions of the desert, 'Your lord has committed a disgraceful deed, he has given honor to the infidels. He appointed as minister (Katib) a Jew, when he was well able to find one among the Faithful. The Jews buoy themselves up with foolish hopes, make themselves lords, and treat the Moslems with haughtiness. When I entered Granada, I perceived that the Jews possessed the sole authority, and divided the capital and the provinces among themselves. Everywhere one of this accursed tribe is in power.'" This seditious poem was soon in the mouth of all Mahometans; it was the raven's croaking for Joseph's death.
At length, a certain incident unchained the fury of his opponents. The troops of a neighboring prince, Almotassem of Almeria, had invaded the territory of Granada, and they declared that Joseph was in league with their king, and that the army had appeared because he intended to surrender the country to Almotassem. The truth of the matter cannot be discovered now. As soon as the statements of the Almerian soldiery had spread abroad, the Berbers, accompanied by a crowd of the common rabble, hastened on the same day, on a Saturday, to the palace of Joseph. On receiving news of the rising, he concealed himself, and blackened his face, so as to escape recognition. His furious enemies nevertheless recognized him, slew him, and crucified him at the gates of Granada. The young minister met his sad end in the thirty-fifth year of his life (9 Tebet, 30 December, 1066). The rage of the infuriated assassins also spent itself on all the Jews in Granada that had not saved themselves by flight. Over one thousand five hundred Jewish families were massacred on that day, and their houses destroyed. Only a few escaped the slaughter, among whom were Joseph's wife, with her young son, Azaria. They fled to Lucena, but so little of their enormous wealth had they been able to save that they were compelled to rely for their support on the congregation of Lucena. Joseph's valuable library was partly destroyed and partly sold. Great was the mourning for the Jewish martyrs of Granada and for the noble Jewish prince. Even an Arabic poet, Ibn-Alfara, who had celebrated Joseph during his lifetime, dedicated an elegy to him, in which these words occur: "Faithfulness is my religion, and this bids me shed a tear for the Jew." His sympathy caused calumnies to be spread against the Mahometan poet at the court of the king of Almeria, who was admonished against extending the hand of friendship to him. The prince, however, replied, "This poet must have a noble heart, since he laments a Jew after his death. I know Moslems who pay no attention to their living co-religionists."
The revolt against Joseph Ibn-Nagrela in Granada was the first persecution of the Jews in the Pyrenean peninsula since its conquest by Islam. It appears to have lasted some time, for the Jews throughout the kingdom of Granada were exiled, and compelled to sell their landed property. It had no effect, however, upon the Jewish inhabitants of other parts of Spain. The princes or kings of each district, who had made themselves independent on the downfall of the caliphate of Cordova, were so hostile towards each other, that the people who were persecuted by one prince were protected by his enemy. The three distinguished Jews who had been banished from Granada were received in a friendly spirit by Almuthadid, king of Seville, and Joseph Ibn-Migash I was given a high office. The king of Saragossa, Al-muktadir Billah, a patron of science and poetry, also had a Jewish vizir, Abu Fadhl, a son of the poet Joseph Ibn-Chasdaï who contended with Ibn-Gebirol for the laurels of poetry. This Abu Fadhl Chasdaï (born about 1040) was likewise a poet, but, although acquainted with Hebrew, he wrote only in Arabic verse. The following opinion of him was expressed by an Arabic critic: "When Abu Fadhl wrote poetry one was ready to believe in witchcraft; he did not compose verses, but miracles." Abu Fadhl was also distinguished in other branches of science. He understood the theory and practice of music, but his favorite study appears to have been speculative philosophy. The remarkable qualities of his mind attracted the attention of the king of Saragossa, who made him his vizir (1066).
Not long after these events, Solomon Ibn-Gebirol, the noble philosopher-poet, ended his days on earth. His gloomy spirit appears to have become still more somber through the tragic events in Granada. His last poems were therefore elegiac laments over the cruel fate of Israel: "Wherefore does the slave rule over the sons of princes? My exile has lasted a thousand years, and I am like the howling bird of the desert. Where is the high-priest who will show me the end of all this?" (1068). In the last year of his life, Solomon Ibn-Gebirol complained similarly: "Our years pass in distress and misery; we look for the light, but darkness and humiliation overtake us: slaves rule over us. Till she fell, Babylon held sway over me; Rome, Javan, and Persia then hemmed me in, and scattered me far and wide; and these 461 years (from the time of Hejira) doth Ishmael despoil me." This probably was Ibn-Gebirol's last poem. He spent the last years of his life, after many wanderings, in Valencia, and there he died, not yet fifty years old (1069 or 1070). A legend relates that an Arab poet slew him from envy of his masterly powers of song, and buried his body beneath a fig-tree. The tree produced extraordinary blossoms, the attention of passers-by was drawn to it, and thus the murder of the noble poet was discovered.
At the time when Spain showed such an abundance of distinguished men, France and Germany were lacking in great creative minds, and the history of the Jews of these countries presents few interesting features. They lived entirely undisturbed, were landowners, cultivated the vine, occupied themselves with handicrafts and trade, and only had to pay to the prince, in whose territory they dwelt, a kind of Jew-tax.
The French and German Jews doubtless lacked energy and chivalry, but theirs was not a lower grade of culture than that of their Christian compatriots. Their chief occupation on both sides of the Rhine was the study of the Talmud, into which Gershom had initiated them. "They drive away sleep to absorb themselves in the Talmud."
The first Jewish persecution on Andalusian soil by the Mahometan fanatics of Granada alarmed all the communities of Spain, but it did not have the effect of discouraging them, or producing stagnation. The pursuit of science and poetry had become second nature to the Jews of southern Spain, and only frequent and crushing disasters could repress their love. The persecution was neither repeated nor imitated. The people of Granada had murdered the Jewish vizir and several of his nation, which, however, did not hinder other kings or emirs from attracting gifted Jews to their courts, entrusting them with important affairs, and placing the Jews on an equality with the ruling population of the state.
An Arab historian complained that the princes of the Faithful abandoned themselves to sensual enjoyments, placed their power in the hands of the Jews, and made them Hayibs, vizirs and private secretaries. The example of the Mahometan courts was followed even by Christian states. They also began to employ Jews in affairs of state, and their ability and faithfulness added greatly to the growth of their power. Thus the position of the Spanish Jews remained for a time wholly unaffected by the success of Christian arms and the gradual dissolution of the Mahometan principalities. They felt as much at home under the dominion of the Cross in Spain, as under that of the Crescent, and were able, unfettered, to satisfy their love of investigation. Their ardor in the domain of science and of poetry, far from cooling, increased, if possible, more and more, and the number of students grew from year to year. Yet it appears that in the period after Ibn-Nagrela and Ibn-Gebirol, poetry, philology, exegesis, and philosophy, although eagerly followed, were superseded by the study of the Talmud, which became, as it were, the central study. The dialectics of the Talmud were revived and cultivated simultaneously in Spain, Africa, and France. The study of the Talmud was so thoroughly prosecuted that the achievements of the Geonim were thrown into the shade. Six men, of whom five bear the name of Isaac, and the other, that of Yizchaki, may be regarded as the principal figures of the second rabbinical age: Isaac Ibn-Albalia, distinguished also for his political position; Isaac Ibn-Giat and Isaac ben Reuben, who were at once Talmudists and writers of liturgical poems; Isaac Ibn-Sakni; Isaac Alfassi and Solomon Yizchaki, the two creators of an independent method of Talmudic study, far surpassing that used by the Geonim.
Isaac ben Baruch Albalia, by means of documents, traced his origin to Baruch, a noble exile from Jerusalem, who is supposed to have been sent by Titus to a proconsul at Merida, in order to carry on in Spain the silk culture, in which his family was skilled. Later the Albalias removed to Cordova, and became one of the most distinguished families of the Andalusian capital. Isaac (born 1035, died 1094) early betrayed a gifted mind and a burning thirst for knowledge. His inclinations led him equally to astronomy, mathematics, philosophy, and the Talmud. Samuel Ibn-Nagrela encouraged him in his studies by gifts and books, and his son Joseph endowed him with abundant means. Isaac Ibn-Albalia lived alternately in Cordova and with his noble patron in Granada. He only trifled with poetry, and turned his mind to deeper studies. Isaac Ibn-Albalia had scarcely attained his thirtieth year, when he began a commentary to elucidate the most difficult portions of the Talmud. At the same time (1065) he was writing an astronomical work called Ibbur, on the principles of the Jewish calendar, which he dedicated to his patron, Joseph Ibn-Nagrela. Isaac Ibn-Albalia, who was at the time visiting his friend Joseph, luckily was not injured in the massacre at Granada (1066), and he afterwards made Cordova his permanent abode. Here he became acquainted with the noble prince, Abulkassim Mahomet, a lover of science and poetry. When the latter ascended the throne of Seville, under the name of Al-Mutamed (May, 1069), he summoned Ibn-Albalia to his court at Seville, and made him his astronomer, whose duty it was not so much to observe the motions of the stars as to foretell future events from the position of the constellations. He also appointed Isaac Albalia as chief over all the Jewish communities of his kingdom, which fortunate conquests had made the mightiest in Mahometan Spain. It extended northward as far as Cordova, and eastward to Murcia. Isaac, therefore, like Ibn-Chasdaï, Ibn-Jau, and Ibn-Nagrela, took the rank of prince (Nassi). He was at the same time rabbi over the communities of the realm of Seville, and his authority was acknowledged abroad. As his master, Al-Mutamed, was the most illustrious prince in Spain, so Isaac was the most illustrious and learned man among the Spanish Jews. Beautiful Seville became through him the center of Jewish Spain, as Cordova and Granada had been in the past. Al-Mutamed, the last noble ruler of the Arab race in Spain, had another Jewish functionary at his court, Ibn-Misha'l, whom he employed on diplomatic missions.
Of Albalia's contemporary, Isaac ben Jehuda Ibn-Giat (b. 1030, d. 1089), little is known. He belonged to a rich and illustrious family of Lucena (not far from Cordova). Both the Ibn-Nagrelas gave him in his youth many proofs of their respect, and he was devoted to them heart and soul. After the tragic end of Joseph Ibn-Nagrela, Ibn-Giat gave himself much trouble to raise Joseph's son, Abu-nassar Azaria, to the rank of rabbi of Lucena. But death deprived this noble house of its last scion. The community selected Isaac Ibn-Giat as its spiritual chief, on account of his learning and virtues. Liturgical poetry, philosophy, and the Talmud were the three domains sedulously cultivated by him.
Isaac ben Reuben Albergeloni, in his old age, compiled an original work treating of the civil jurisprudence of the Talmud in a systematic way. He also was an earnest religious poet. He composed new "Azharoth" in pithy but awkward language, and adorned his verses with Biblical quotations aptly applied. Isaac Albergeloni is the first Hebrew writer to make use of this mosaic of Biblical verses, which are not quoted for their usual meaning, but woven together in ingenious and unexpected combinations.
Albergeloni in early youth had gone from Barcelona to Denia; at the same time the fourth Isaac (ben Moses) Ibn-Sakni was departing thence, probably because a slight had been put upon him. He wended his way to the Orient, and in Pumbeditha was made a teacher of the Law under the title of Gaon. So greatly had the times changed! Whilst the Occident had formerly lent a willing ear to the utterances of the Geonim in the Orient, it was now, scarcely half a century after the death of Gaon Haï, able to send teachers to the country in which had stood the cradle of the Talmud, and a man who found no recognition in Spain was considered an authority by the once proud Pumbeditha.
In knowledge and sharp-witted understanding of the Talmud, these four Isaacs were outstripped by the fifth, Isaac ben Jacob Alfassi, or Alkalaï. Born in Kala-Ibn-Hammad, in the neighborhood of Fez (1013), he was instructed by the last African authorities, Nissim and Chananel, and after their death in 1056 he became the representative of Talmud studies in western Africa. Indifferent to the scientific pursuits which their taste as well as consideration for their material advancement prompted the gifted Jews of Spain and Africa to cultivate, Alfassi devoted all his acumen to a profound study of the Talmud. His was a deeply earnest, independent nature, not content to keep to the beaten track of time-honored customs, but desirous of striking out into new paths. It had hitherto been the custom to follow in practice the rulings of the Geonim, whenever, as frequently occurs, the Talmud records conflicting opinions on a given subject, and to accept their explanations and decisions as norms. Alfassi, however, proceeded from the commentaries to the text itself, and sought with his peculiar acuteness to distinguish all that was incontestable and durable, and of real import, in the Talmud, from that which was doubtful, superficial, and expedient. The opinions of the Gaonic authorities were not final for him. In this spirit he compiled a work, which, in spite of the attacks leveled at it at the time, became a standard book for the entire Jewish community. His "Halachoth" abstract from the Talmud only whatever affects conduct, but fix the practical bearings of the laws thus classified with absolute certainty. Alfassi's work consigned to oblivion all similar works compiled in the course of three centuries, since Jehudaï Gaon's time. His name was borne by this work far beyond the straits into Spain where he counted still more admirers than in his native land.
A complete match for Alfassi, however, in knowledge of the Talmud was the Frenchman, Solomon Yizchaki, a man as acute and independent as himself, only less bold and impetuous, but more versatile.
Solomon Yizchaki, known under the name of Rashi, was born in 1040 (died in 1105), at Troyes, in Champagne, in the year in which the last Gaon suffered martyrdom, as if to intimate that the new spirit infused by Rashi would fully compensate for the downfall of the old institution. Rashi's mother was the sister of Simon ben Isaac, highly respected on account of his services to the community of Mayence and his liturgic poetry, and his father was well versed in the Talmud. Thus Rashi had, as it were, drawn his nourishment from the Talmud, and in it he lived and had his being. In order to perfect himself in the study of the Talmud, he frequented the Talmudical school of Mayence, but also attended the lectures of the Talmud teachers in Worms, and of Eliakim in Speyer. Like Akiba he left his home and his wife to devote himself to the study of the Law in foreign parts. He tells in what needy circumstances he pursued this study, "in want of bread, denuded of clothing and fettered by matrimony." Now and then, probably on the festivals, he visited his wife, but he always returned to the German, or as they were then called, Lotharingian centers of learning. At the age of twenty-five (1064) he settled permanently at Troyes.
In his modesty he did not suspect that at that early time he was honored as a master of Talmudic lore. In Rashi's earliest decisions which he delivered when a youth, there is no trace of the groping novice, they reveal the hand of the skilful adept, the master of his subject. His teachers, in their letters, lavished on him the most flattering praise. Isaac Halevi, of Worms, wrote to Rashi, "We owe it to you that this age is not orphaned, and may many like unto you arise in Israel."
Undoubtedly the community of Troyes and its vicinity selected him as their rabbi, though we have no proof thereof; but he drew no emoluments from the office. In a time, about which a dispassionate author, in speaking of the prelates under Pope Hildebrand, can say, "No one could become a bishop or an abbot of the empire unless he either was rich or addicted to vice; amongst the priests, he was praised most highly who had the most splendid garments, the most sumptuous table, and the handsomest concubines"—in that time, and also for a long while afterwards, it was considered in Jewish circles a sin and a disgrace for rabbis to accept remuneration for the performance of their duties. The rabbinate in Christian and Moslem countries was an honorary office to be given only to the most worthy; and the rabbi was to be a shining light to the community, not only intellectually, but also in moral character. Sobriety, frugality, indifference to Mammon, were as a matter of course expected of every rabbi. Rashi was the most perfect embodiment of this conception of a rabbi, and Jewish posterity has beheld in him a spotless personification of its ideal. His contemporaries also revered him as the highest authority. From all parts of France and Germany doubtful cases were sent to him to be decided, and his answers testified to his profound knowledge and to his mildness of temper.
After the death of the Talmudical scholars in Lorraine, about 1070, the German and French students flocked to Rashi's lecture-room at Troyes; he was looked upon as their worthy successor. He lectured on the Bible and the Talmud. Rashi was so imbued with the spirit of the Talmud that for him it contained nothing obscure. In its elucidation he surpassed all his predecessors, so that it was rightly said that without him the Babylonian Talmud would have been neglected like that of Jerusalem. His explanations of a large number of the Talmudic tractates, which he called "Commentary" (conteros), are models of their kind, simple, concise and lucid. He wrote in the clear idiom of the Talmud, and neither used an unnecessary, nor omitted a necessary word. The explanations of words and things are intended for the beginner as well as for the learned specialist. Rashi gave clearness to the text by placing himself in the position of the reader; by a skilfully chosen expression, he prevented misunderstanding, met objections and anticipated questions. Rashi, as commentator, may be called an artist. He soon supplanted the commentaries of Gershom and his own masters. Rashi also wrote a commentary of equal originality on most of the books of Holy Writ. His tact and his love of truth led him to seize the true meaning of words and passages. But he allowed himself frequently to be guided by the Agadic opinions, on the supposition that the elucidation of verses occurring in the Talmud and in Agadic works was to be taken seriously. Yet he was, to a certain extent, conscious that the simple text (peshat) was opposed to the Agadic mode of explanation (the derasha). In his old age this consciousness deepened, and he told his learned grandson (Rashbam) that he meant to revise his commentaries of the Bible in the spirit of a sober and literal explanation of the text. Rashi towered above the contemporaneous Christian expositors of the Bible, who all believed that Holy Writ contained a fourfold meaning. Rashi's skill in exposition appears the more surprising as he was not acquainted with the important achievements of the Spanish school. He was acquainted only with the first part of the Hebrew grammar by Menachem ben Saruk and that by Dunash, and these he took as his guides. Chayuj's and Ibn-Janach's works, however, being written in Arabic, remained unknown to him. Therefore, his grammatical nomenclature is clumsy and frequently obscure. Nevertheless, no commentary of Holy Writ has been so popular as Rashi's, so that at one time many considered his commentary part and parcel of the text, and every one of his words was in turn commented upon and expounded. His mantle fell upon his grandsons and sons-in-law, who were his greatest disciples. For he had no sons, only three daughters, of whom the one was so deeply versed in the Talmud that during her father's illness she read to him all the questions concerning the Talmud that had been sent to him, and wrote down the answers dictated to her. His three daughters were married to men of learning, and gave birth to sons worthy of their ancestry. One of these sons-in-law, Meïr of Rameru, not far from Troyes, was the father of three distinguished sons. Through Rashi and his school, the north of France, Champagne, became the home of Talmudic lore as Babylonia had been of old. It laid down the law for the rest of Europe. The French Talmudical students were in request even in Spain, and were liberally remunerated for their instruction. The leadership, which Jewish Spain had taken from Babylonia, from Rashi's time had to be shared with France. Whilst Spain remained classic ground with respect to Hebrew poetry, linguistic attainments, exegesis and philosophy, it had to yield the palm to France in the study of the Talmud.
At this time there were two men in Spain who occupied themselves exclusively with grammar and the study of the Bible, and although they did not particularly enrich these studies, yet they undoubtedly imbued them with fresh vitality. They were Moses ben Samuel Ibn-G'ikatilia, of Cordova, and Jehuda Ibn-Balam, of Toledo (about 1070 to 1100). The former, the disciple of Ibn-Janach, in his exposition of Holy Writ occupied his master's liberal point of view. Some of the Psalms were attributed by Ibn-G'ikatilia to a later period, whilst the common opinion prevailed amongst Jews as well as Christians that the whole psalter was the work of the royal bard. He did not think well of the division of verses by the Massora, and contrary to its directions, joined consecutive verses.
The representatives of the Spanish Jews thus distinguished themselves in science and poetry, while in France great impetus was given to the study of the Talmud. The Jews of the Italian peninsula, however, occupy a very low position in the history of culture at this period. Their poetic effusions, in harsh and barbaric language, whether liturgical or secular in character, lack the true charm of poetry, and their Talmud lore was obtained from foreign parts. Nathan ben Yechiel, of Rome, is the only Italian of that time whose name figures in Jewish literature. He compiled a Talmudic lexicon, under the title of "Aruch," in about 1001 or 1002; it was more complete than the earlier works of similar purpose, but was compiled, with little originality, from these older works, principally from the writings of Chananel, of Kairuan. This lexicon became the key to the Talmud. Kalonymos, of Rome, is also mentioned as a Talmudic authority. Rashi spoke of him with great respect; the community of Worms elected him as rabbi after the year 1096. However, he has left nothing in writing, and seems to have exerted no influence. The historical works of this period are silent respecting the political position of the Italian Jews, a proof that it was not unfavorable.
Events of world-wide importance in western Europe, the extensive invasion by Christians of Mahometan Spain, and the first crusade against the Mahometans in the East, brought about important changes for the Jews of western Europe. The changes were chiefly of a deplorable kind, and interrupted their peaceful occupation with the Law. In the fortunes of Spain the Jews played no insignificant part, although their active interference is not conspicuously visible. They were helpful in digging the pit into which their great grandsons were to fall. The first powerful blow at the Islam dominion in the peninsula south of the Pyrenees was dealt by the Castilian king Alfonso VI, who was as brave in combat as he was clever in state affairs, and who placed more reliance on the sword and on diplomatic art, than on the cross and prayer. His purpose, to conquer the Mahometan kingdoms and principalities, was only attainable by fomenting dissensions among the rulers, stimulating rivalry between them, and playing off one against the other, thus weakening them all. To that end he required clever diplomatists, and among his subjects the Jews were the ones best prepared for the work. His knights were too clumsy, and his citizens too ignorant to be fitted for missions of a delicate nature. At the Mahometan courts of Toledo, Seville, Granada, there reigned a refined, cultured, intellectual tone, and frequent allusions were made in conversation to the brilliant history and literature of the Arabs. If an ambassador at these courts wanted to accomplish anything, he was obliged, not only to be acquainted with all the niceties of the Arabic language, but also to be familiar with its literature and the manners of the court. In these respects the Jews were particularly useful. Therefore Alfonso employed Jews on diplomatic missions to the courts of the Mahometan princes. One of them, the Jewish diplomatist at the court of King Alfonso, was Amram ben Isaac Ibn-Shalbib, originally Alfonso's private physician. As Ibn-Shalbib was well versed in Arabic, and possessed insight into the political circumstances of that period, the king of Castile appointed him private secretary, and entrusted him with important affairs. Alfonso had another Jewish adviser, Cidellus, who was on such intimate terms with the king, that the latter's reserve was overcome, and he permitted him to speak more freely than any of the Spanish noblemen and grandees of the empire. Alfonso, who was far from being a religious bigot, and who had acquired liberal views from his contact with the Mahometan princes, not only conferred distinctions on certain individuals among the Jews, but cleared the way to dignities and honors for all the sons of Jacob dwelling in his dominions. Alfonso had, indeed, found a certain equality in citizenship existing in many parts of Christian Spain, where custom had superseded the old Visigothic laws. According to the Visigothic code, the Jews were to be treated as outcasts, to be subjected to regulations applying to them alone, and were not to be allowed to act as witnesses. On the other hand, according to the law of custom (fueros), Christians, Jews, and Mahometans of the same town and the same country came under the same law. The Jew had to testify against the Christian on the "Torah." If Jews and Christians had a lawsuit, they had to select a Christian and a Jew as arbitrators (Alkalde). If a man wished to sell his house, two Christians and the same number of Jews had to appraise it. According to another law established by custom (fuero de Nájera), the Jews were treated on an equality with the nobles and the clergy; the same sum was fixed as compensation for the murder of a Jew, a nobleman, and a priest. Down to the smallest details of daily life, the equality between Jews and Christians before the law was made manifest. As Alfonso now confirmed these municipal laws, the civil equality of the Jews was legally acknowledged, and the ignominy of the Visigothic legislation against the Jews was effaced. Jews, under certain circumstances, were permitted to enjoy the privilege of duelling, and admitted into military service. Light seemed to be dawning upon the Middle Ages, and Roman-Christian narrow-mindedness, emanating from Theodosius II, seemed about to vanish.
However, the Church, whose foundation was intolerance, was not likely to countenance the promotion of Jews to honorable offices in a Christian land. The head of the Church, Pope Hildebrand, who, under the name of Gregory VII, through his legates and the shafts of excommunication plunged Europe into a condition of ferment and disruption, protested against this state of things. He, the mightiest of the mighty, before whom kings and nations groveled in the dust, wished also to humble the defenseless Jews, and to rob them of the respect and honors which they had acquired by their merit.
Emperor Henry IV had granted the same privileges to the Jews of Worms as to the other citizens of that town. When princes and priests, towns and villages, unmindful of their oath, and excited by the Pope, broke faith with him, and treated him as one under the ban, the town of Worms remained faithful to him. A year later, when Pope Gregory had treated the emperor as a boy, making him do penance in his shirt, he also became eager to humble the Jews. At the Church congress in Rome, in 1078, when the Pope issued for the second time his interdict against the enemies of the papacy, he promulgated a canonical law to the effect that the Jews should hold no office in Christendom, and exercise no supremacy whatever over the Christians. This canonical decision was directed principally against Spain, where, owing to the peculiar position caused by continual strife with the Arabs, the Roman Church had asserted a degree of independence. As Gregory wished to force upon King Alfonso foreign bishops, pliant tools in the execution of his will, so he endeavored to arrest the influence of the Jews at the court of Castile. He therefore addressed a vigorous epistle to Alfonso in 1080, in which the following words occur:
"As we feel impelled to congratulate you on the progress of your fame, so at the same time must we deprecate the harm you do. We admonish your Highness that you must cease to suffer the Jews to rule over the Christians and exercise authority over them. For to allow the Christians to be subordinate to the Jews, and to subject them to their judgment, is the same as oppressing God's Church and exalting Satan's synagogue. To wish to please Christ's enemies means to treat Christ himself with contumely."
On the other hand, the Pope was well satisfied with William the Conqueror, King of England and Duke of Normandy, who ratified the decision of the congress in Rouen, that the Jews were not only prohibited from keeping Christian bondmen, but also from having Christian nurses.
But Alfonso had to give his attention to other affairs besides the intolerance of the Church. He troubled himself but little about the decision of the great council in Rome and the autograph letter of the Pope, and retained his Jewish advisers. He was just then revolving in his mind a plan of invading the kingdom of Toledo. In order to accomplish this he had to isolate its governor from the neighboring princes of his faith and race, and to be assured of their neutrality or their co-operation with himself. For that, however, he required his Jewish diplomatists, and could not entertain the idea of satisfying the importunities of the Pope. By an alliance with the noble and valiant king of Seville, Al-Mutamed Ibn-Abbad, in all probability effected by Jewish agents, Alfonso conquered the old and important town of Toledo (1085), the first bulwark of the Spanish Mahometans against the aggressive power of the Christians. The victor of Toledo assured to the Jews of this town and the territory appertaining to it, all the liberties which they had enjoyed under the Mahometan rulers. The last unfortunate Mahometan king of Toledo, Yachya Alkader, who had to take refuge in Valencia, had a Jewish confidant in his suite, who remained faithful to him long after his death, whilst his nearest friends betrayed him.
Alfonso did not rest satisfied with the possession of Toledo, which was again elevated to the rank of capital, but wished to make use of the disagreements and petty jealousies of the Mahometan princes for the purpose of making fresh conquests. First of all he determined to attack the territory of the king of Seville, who also ruled over Cordova. He therefore suddenly dropped the mask of friendship, and made demands of Al-Mutamed, such as this noble prince could not in honor concede. With the perilous mission of revealing the true state of affairs to the king of Seville, and of facing him in a firm and defiant attitude, Alfonso entrusted his Jewish councillor of state, Isaac Ibn-Shalbib, instructing him not to pay any regard to the requirements of courtesy. Five hundred Christian knights accompanied Alfonso's Jewish messenger to the court of Seville, in order to lend dignity to his embassy. This commission cost Ibn-Shalbib his life. Acting in the spirit of his master, he spoke in terms so positive, and insisted so unflinchingly on the fulfilment of the demand he was charged to make, that Al-Mutamed fell into a violent passion, and transgressed the law protecting the person of an ambassador, had Ibn-Shalbib killed, nailed to a gibbet, and his followers imprisoned.
The breach which in consequence occurred between Alfonso and the king of Seville induced the latter to join the league of the rest of the Mahometan princes, and send for the conqueror of northern Africa, the Almoravide Prince Yussuf Ibn-Teshufin, to aid them against Alfonso. Al-Mutamed spoke the deciding word in favor of this plan. The African hero appeared in response to the invitation, and his presence eventually caused the servitude and downfall of the Andalusian princes.